Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg Read online

  Hagopia took a deep breath. “All of the units we’re supposed to be coordinating . . . ” She indicated her clipboard. “We’re losing them.”

  L’Marge stared at her. “Rumbletoys?”

  “No answer.”

  “Ninth Ætheric?”

  “No answer.”

  “Knifegrinders?”

  “No answer!”

  “Wind Walkers?”

  “They were cut off.”

  L’Marge pursed her lips. “Too many different units.” She glanced out the window. “I’m not seeing any ground action.” She reached over and slammed a communicator switch. “Tower maintenance! Are we still on the air?” They stared at the speakers, but all that came through was a rolling hiss of static.

  “What the Hell is going on?” L’Marge scowled. “We’ll miss the fighting!”

  “Wrong!” Everyone jumped as a cheerful voice rang out. In the hatchway stood a Jäger, his uniform crisp and jaunty. L’Marge was the first to grasp what was happening. Her hand darted towards the holster at her side, but the Jäger’s hand was already gently closing over it. He gave an apologetic shrug and flipped the gun out and into his own hand.

  L’Marge snarled. “How dare you betray—”

  The Jäger tapped her lips with a clawed hand and smoothly retracted it before she could bite him. “Hyu iz confused, sveethot. De Heterodyne iz de vun ve ain’t betrayink today. Dot vos de deal und de Baron knew dot.”

  L’Marge stepped back. “That . . . that girl is a fake.”

  The Jäger considered her with an arched eyebrow. “Hyu sure about dot?”

  “Yes,” she lied. “And don’t hurt my people! We’re noncombatants!”

  The Jäger glanced at the gun in his hand and absentmindedly spun it around his finger. “Ho, yez? Iz dot vot hyu calls flyink around melting pipple down below into leedle puddles?”

  L’Marge blustered. “We are a communications—”

  The Jäger ended the discussion by crushing the gun in his hand. “Und hy iz de Princess Hasenpfeffer ov Spätzle”87

  Another Jäger popped into the control room. “De rest of de fleet iz secured, Jorgi.”

  Jorgi nodded and then loomed over the pilots. “Hokay, keeds, hyu can land dis ting.” He surveyed the ground and then jovially clapped a hand on each of the pilot’s shoulders, causing them to start violently. “Howz about right outside de Monsters’ Gate?88 Ve gots to be ready to march in, yah?”

  One of the pilots stared at the hand on her shoulder and said the first thing that came into her head: “But, you can’t go into town, can you?”89

  Jorgi winked at her. “Dot’s right, dollink, not yet. But verra soon.”

  DOOOM!

  Everyone in the cabin shrieked and collapsed. Jorgi quickly grabbed the controls, and with a knowledge that would have shocked Captain L’Marge if she had been coherent enough to appreciate it, began to guide the airship smoothly towards the ground.

  “Verra soon indeed,” he chuckled. “like, right now!”

  The streets of Mechanicsburg were burning. Not all of them, of course, but Captain Kepler of the First Smarty-Pants Brigade vowed that, with enough time, he’d make sure he got to them all. He was roused from his murderous contemplation by one of his men stomping up to him, coming to order with a pop and a clank. “Sir!”

  Kepler flicked a switch on what looked like a pair of ornately enameled mechanical hip waders and wheeled to face him. “What is it, Spinoza?”

  “Got a situation, sir.”

  “Another one?”

  “We’ve finally taken some prisoners, sir. They’re just townspeople, but they were really giving us a hard time.”

  Kepler looked around and nodded. “How many?”

  “Eight, sir.”

  “Anybody important? Doctors or City Council?”

  “No, sir. I think they’re bakers.”

  Kepler shrugged. “Okay, so what’s the problem? Shoot them.”

  Spinoza blinked. “Shoot— but we can’t do that!”

  “Don’t tell me you’re out of bullets?”

  “No, sir! But . . . but they’ve surrendered. And they’re just a bunch of old men! Civilians!”

  “So what are we supposed to do with them? Give them a kick in the pants and send them home? Who do you think is fighting us? ‘Civilians’ have wiped out half our squad! I’ve never seen resistance like this. They’re shopkeepers, for Ares’ sake! They shouldn’t care who’s in charge! They’ll cheat anybody!”

  The lieutenant trotted along silently, giving his superior time to wind down. “Well, this is Mechanicsburg, sir. They’re not happy unless a Heterodyne in charge.”

  “Well then, their Heterodyne can protect them.”

  Soon they arrived at what indeed proved to be a bakery, though, from the state of its walls it wouldn’t be functioning for quite a while. Indications were the shutdown might be permanent, at least as far as the staff was concerned. They were lined up against a brick wall with ten armed troopers covering them.

  Kepler stomped onto the scene and the troops gave him a salute. “Don’t look at me when you’re covering prisoners,” he roared.

  “Sir! Sorry, sir!” The soldiers snapped back into position. Kepler shook his head. It was easy to see why they’d allowed themselves to slip. The men against the wall were obviously bakers. Even beneath the battle grime, you could see the flour. But . . . these weren’t just bakers. Even now, it was evident these were men just waiting for an excuse to leap back into action. Kepler had been a professional soldier long enough to know the most dangerous thing a career soldier could face was an impassioned amateur. They didn’t follow the rules. He stood behind his men now. “You treat those men with respect?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Now, shoot them!”

  “Yes—what?”

  “Stand to attention!” They snapped into place. Don’t give them time to think, Kepler thought grimly. “Form a firing line! Ready, aim—”

  DOOOM!

  The soldiers collapsed to the ground along with several of the younger bakers. The older men along the wall stared for a second before breaking into wild grins. One or two of them looked like they were going to be ill, though whether that was from the bell or the near death experience they would be hard-pressed to say.

  The bakers gathered around the twitching soldiers. “That girl,” Second Kneader Svenorgi said, “she really is the Heterodyne!”

  “Which girl?”

  “Time enough for that later,” Ovenkeeper Kaspodin snapped. “We have to deal with these guys.”

  “Tie ’em up,” said Master Gorpedi, already hauling a coil of rope out of one of the bakery’s sheds. “They’re just kids.”

  “And the one giving the orders?”

  Master Pitokya pulled a rolling pin from his apron pocket and slapped it into his hand. “Oh, him we treat with respect.”

  Outside Mamma Gkika’s, Gil held up a hand and the herd of tiger clanks came to a stop. “We’re here,” he announced.

  Sleipnir looked at the building in confusion. Even with the shutters closed over the windows and the furniture from the beer garden stacked against the wall, there was no mistaking the nature of the establishment. “Gil? What do you mean, ‘we’re here’? This is a beer hall.”

  Gil vaulted off the clank. “It’s not just a beer hall.”

  “I thought we were heading towards the Wulfenbach lines. There aren’t any troops here.”

  Gil thought of Mister Higgs and wondered if he was still with Zeetha. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” He gave a couple of booming knocks on the front door.

  “Okay, so why a beer hall?”

  “Because it’s not just a beer hall.” He strode over to Theo, who was slumped forward across the back of his clank. When he realized Gil was next to him, he straightened up and gave a very creditable performance of a man in only mild discomfort. “Don’t bother,” Gil said. “I can see you’re in a lot of pain. If only because these cats aren
’t the smoothest ride.”

  “It’s just my arm,” Theo insisted. “I won’t hold you back.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gil agreed. “Because you’ll be here.”

  “In a beer hall.”

  “It is not just a beer hall!”

  The front door groaned open and a girl dressed in an abbreviated uniform posed in the entryway. “Sorry, sveethot, ve iz closed.” Suddenly she recognized Gil and her demeanor warmed considerably. “Oooh! It’s hyu again! Come on in!”

  Sleipnir stared at the girl and then at the few other girls she saw framed in the doorway. She calculated she was wearing more than all the women put together. Theo swiftly became accommodating as they stepped forward to help him down from his clank and into the building.

  “It had better be just a beer hall,” Sleipnir growled.

  The doorkeeper smiled, revealing an elaborate set of sharp false teeth. “Ho! Is someone feeling shy?”

  Theo blinked at the women. Sleipnir ducked under his arm, ostensibly to lend him support. “Jägers? Female Jägers?” He muttered.

  “No,” Sleipnir answered under her breath. “These are . . . costumes, I think.”

  “But why would customers want girls to dress as Jägers?”

  A pale-skinned girl dressed in strips of black leather giggled saucily. “Hyu vanna find out, cutie pie?”

  Theo stared at her. “No,” he said slowly. “No, I don’t think I do.”

  Gil recognized the look in Sleipnir’s eye and quickly interrupted. “Will you please tell Mamma we’re here?”

  “Hy iz already here, Master Wulfenbach.” Mamma swept into the room, defusing Sleipnir’s annoyance with her sheer physical presence. Mamma was well over two meters tall and from her stunning aquamarine hair to her elegantly pointed ears there was no question she was a genuine Jäger. Gil noticed her usual attire—an elaborate gown—had been replaced with a finely decorated set of golden armor. She clapped her hands. “Gorls! Dis gentlemen is vounded! Schtop foolink around!” Instantly, professionalism of a different sort filled the room. Theo was laid on top of an empty table, and one of the girls began cutting away his bandage.

  Gil filled Mamma in on what had happened at the Castle while she gave him a military overview of what had been happening in the town. A mug of really fine coffee had somehow appeared in his hand. He took a drink and finished up. “So Agatha should be done any time now.”

  “Dot’s goot,” Mamma said with a smile. “Becawze hy gots a cellar full ov ediots who’s chust about to burst!”

  An involuntary yip of pain caused them to glance over at Theo. “Can I leave the two of them here until the fighting’s over,” he asked quietly.

  “Ov cawze! Ve gets heem fixed op toot sveety! Dot’s French,” she added helpfully.

  Gil nodded. Mamma laid a clawed hand on his arm. “Vait, vun more ting.” She took a deep breath. “Hyu poppa. He protected my boyz. Hy . . . all ov de Jägerkin, ve vill not forget dot.”

  “Memory goes both ways, madam. The Jägers served the empire loyally. It is my hope we will be defending the town together, assuming I can take control of my father’s forces quickly. But now I must—”

  DOOOM!

  The room rocked as people moaned and fell, twitching.

  “YEZ!” Gkika was on her feet, roaring in triumph. “De Bell rings! Ve haz a Heterodyne again!” She glanced at the people sprawled across the floor. “Keeds today,” she sniffed. “Kent even take a leedle existential despair.” She sighed. “Ho vell, s’poze hy gotta . . . ”

  “Agatha!” With his exclamation, Gkika noticed Gil was still standing beside her. She stared at him, astonished. His face was lit with an unholy glee that gave even her pause. “She did it,” he marveled.

  Gkika glanced at the others strewn on the floor and frowned. “Iz . . . iz hyu okeh? De sound ov de Doom Bell—”

  Gil snapped his head towards her, and she stepped back from the fire in his eyes. “It means she’s taken the Castle! She’s alive and fighting! It sounds beautiful!”

  Gkika shivered. “Hokay,” she said over a growing roar that could be heard building in the cellars. “My boys iz comink and de Lady Heterodyne’s consort iz gonna need an escort!” She grinned. “Let me get mine hat!”

  In the courtyard before what today is known as The Lady’s Gate, the City Council of Mechanicsburg dropped to one knee and bowed respectfully. Count Roargapotts, the Minister of Snails, hauled a dazed Vanamonde up from the ground with one burly hand, and manually inclined his head along with the rest of them. That done, he gently laid the young man back down. He faced Agatha, who was watching with concern. “He will recover quickly, my Lady. The von Mekkhan family was never one to cultivate philosophical pretensions.”90 He took a deep breath, then exclaimed, “Welcome home, Lady Heterodyne.”

  At this, all of the elders of the Council looked up at Agatha. She was struck by the need that burned within their eyes. She remembered the effect she’d had on the people in the coffee shop. A whole town of minions waiting for a master. For several seconds, various possibilities warred with the ethical quandary this presented. Who was she to determine every aspect of these people’s lives? Then she looked about the town, the town that her ancestors had built and shaped to serve their every whim. She again noted the obvious signs of decay that had begun to manifest ever since her family had left. Her jaw tightened. Priorities.

  “Thank you, sir, but I cannot help but notice my home, as you call it, appears to be on fire. We can’t do anything useful about that with you all on bended knee. Please get up.”

  This pronouncement had a marked effect, and Agatha noticed the people before her looked pleased as they rose to their feet. One of the ladies of the council, a rawboned harridan equipped with a shining pair of brass goggles, positively simpered and stepped forward. “Noticed the fire, have you?” She glanced out at the burning buildings. “And what do you think about that?”

  Agatha stared at her. “What do I think about it? I think we need to put it out and get busy crushing everyone who’s attacking us! The town is being invaded!” At this the entire council sighed in evident relief and a few even clapped their hands in delight.

  Van had recovered somewhat. Herr Diamant helped him to his admittedly still shaky feet, then slapped him on the back. “Excellent!”

  Agatha frowned. “An invasion is excellent?”

  “No, no—” Van raised a hand. “Allow me to explain. What is excellent is that you noticed.”

  “Not just that.” The woman leaned in. “But that you care!”

  A man with an elaborate beard nodded vigorously. “That’s not always the case, you know.”

  “It is an encouraging sign!”

  “We also like the ‘crushing’ part.”

  “The Heterodynes have always protected Mechanicsburg, but some of you were better at it than others.”

  “In the War of Three Winters, your grandfather set the old Town Hall on fire, ostensibly to keep the people warm. He kept it burning for five months.”

  Agatha looked pensive. “Well, desperate times—”

  “He lit it in June.”

  “Your great-grandfather decided that all of the children of the town should be magnetized—so we’d never get lost.” The old man speaking sank into a pool of memories. “I used to get stuck to the Iron Bridge every time Mother sent me out for cheese,” he murmured.

  Another lady, a grand dame who reminded Agatha of nothing so much as a preserved dragon she had once seen in the Beetleburg Museum, sighed. “And your great-granduncle Ominox would goad enemies into attacking—and then yell ‘surprise’ when he released the magma bees!” She tittered at the memory. “Oh, I had such a crush on him!”

  Agatha bit her lip. “And here I was worried I wouldn’t be any good at this,” she muttered.

  Vanamonde leaned in and murmured, “You have fifty generations of lowered expectations working for you, my Lady.”

  One of the council members who had stayed towards the back g
asped and waved a large watch on a chain. “Two minutes and she hasn’t killed anyone! A new record!” The rest of the Council cheered.

  What alarmed Agatha the most was that she couldn’t tell if they were kidding or not. She turned towards Vanamonde. Aside from a newfound realization that life was transitory and we are all but insects crawling on an insignificant ball of rock hurtling through the cold, pitiless, void of space—he was feeling much better. “What is the situation?” she asked him.

  Van considered this. “Well, the Doom Bell will have knocked out a lot of our attackers . . . ”

  At that moment a trio of spidery mechanisms, each piloted by what appeared to be a mummified pilot, hove into sight over the Castle wall. On sighting Agatha, the loudspeakers atop their central domes began to blare: “Death to the Witch of Mechanicsburg!”

  Van sighed. “So it’s a safe bet that anything left is going to be a bit tricky.”

  Agatha swung Gil’s lightning cane upwards and sent a bolt crashing into the midst of the invaders. Several of them exploded most satisfactorily, but the third continued to advance, screaming, “DIEEEEEEE!” over and over again in a manner everyone was beginning to find rather annoying.

  Again Agatha aimed her stick, but this time it brought forth nothing but a faint crackle. This so outraged her that she scarcely noticed when Van grabbed her by her toolbelt’s leather straps and dragged her away while the rest of the Town Council pelted the surprised invader with bricks.

  “So, about these defenses?”

  Van shrugged as he pulled her along. “The empire disabled our obvious weapons, but we’re working on them. We have sappers in the tunnels and, of course, there are the tunnels themselves. There’s a lot you can do with a good tunnel. We also have various tradesmen who use dangerous tools on a daily basis,91 the Town Watch, and the Town Militia,92 but they’ve mostly just got small arms and whistles.”

  “Whistles?”

  “Really loud whistles.93 Oh, and Frau Hoggle’s got a really mean dog.”94

  “That’s it? Centuries of mad science and we have nothing?”

  “I didn’t say that. We have stuff, but without the Castle we don’t know how well it will work.”

  From around the corner in front of them stepped an elegantly dressed, seven-meter-tall clank, fashioned entirely out of well-polished mahogany. Seeing Agatha, it whipped off its opera hat and bowed. “Lady Heterodyne,” it boomed in a voice with a smooth burr to it. “My master demands your hand in marriage at your earliest convenience. Or else—”