Agatha H and the Siege of Mechanicsburg Page 8

  A faint wheeze from von Zinzer was the only indication the frozen man was actually still alive.

  No longer panicking, Theo quickly freed Sleipnir and they stared at the great metal construct with awe. It looked like a giant cat over two meters tall. A cat covered in decorative metal plates with wicked-looking spikes on all its joints. A pair of huge red eyes glowed above a mouth of dagger teeth. The great head swiveled towards them and grinned to show them off.

  Theo and Sleipnir stepped back. “Agatha really wants us to load Von Pinn into this?’

  Snaug patted the great clank’s head. “Yeah!”

  “Has she seen it? Now that it’s moving around, it seems . . . bigger?”

  “Oh, it is,” Snaug admitted cheerfully. “And they gave it more teeth. It’s all ready to go.” She banged the side of the clank’s head again, and it tipped forward. Now they could see that—where a small cognitive enginette would normally reside—a gang of Agatha’s helper clanks crowded together, operating a makeshift control panel. They waved at Theo who, in response, looked bemused.

  Snaug continued. “All you have to do is disconnect this external control panel, hook your patient into the blank enginette inside, and presto!” She waved her hand, airily dismissing several technical hurdles and one outright Abomination of Science18 with the blithe casualness of one who associates with sparks far more than is good for them.

  Theo nodded slowly and then, with more enthusiasm: “Yes, I see. Well done! Very elegant!” He clapped his hands. “Let’s get started!” A slight whimper caught his attention and he glanced up. “Um, Herr von Zinzer? You can let go now.”

  The man slowly looked at him. “Nyrrrrg,” he growled through clenched teeth.

  Theo nodded amicably. “Ooorrr not.”

  Snaug tapped Sleipnir on the shoulder. “How do you think the patient will handle the change?”

  Sleipnir looked at her blankly.

  “Psychologically, I mean,” Snaug said patiently. She gestured towards the recumbent Von Pinn. “She’s been in her current form all these years and now you’re putting her mind inside a giant tiger clank with steel claws instead of hands.”

  Sleipnir considered this. “An interesting consideration, but given the similarities, I think it quite likely that Mistress Von Pinn won’t notice much of a difference.”

  Snaug blinked, then looked at Von Pinn askance. “Ooh, you people are fun.” She grinned.

  Her reverie was broken by the entrance of Mittelmind and Mezzasalma, who had chosen a statelier method of descending the stairs. “My, my!” Mittelmind said approvingly. “This does look like an interesting setup.”

  Mezzasalma sniffed. “Rather modest, as secret lairs go.”19

  Theo hurried up. “Ah! Herr Doktor! Professor! I wondered where you were.”

  “We did have to see to poor Professor Diaz. That adventuress killed him.”

  Theo paused. “Oh . . . I’m so sorry. The loss of your friend must be—”

  Mittelmind waved a hand. “He helped make us the men we are today.”

  Mezzasalma nodded. “He’d have done the same to us.”

  Theo paused. “Wait—to?”

  Mittelmind grinned at his colleague. “He did do the same to you. Remember? That time you were knocked out?”

  “And now it’s back,” Mezzasalma huffed righteously. “The nerve of the man! That was my favorite pancreas!”

  Theo sighed. “Come, gentlemen, we have a delicate procedure to undertake and I require your assistance. Let us focus on the matter to hand.”

  Agatha removed a jeweler’s loupe from her eye and sat back with a satisfied “ah-ha!” The map shimmered before her.

  Tarvek looked up from where he lay face down, peering down through the glass at the mechanism below. “Found something?”

  “I hope so. You know those lines we think represent the Castle’s nervous system analog?”

  “I know the lines you mean. It would be easier to be sure if the thing wasn’t so blurry.”

  “After sixteen-some-odd years without maintenance, you’d be a bit blurry too. That’s why we’re here to fix it. Anyway, one of the main ones runs right through this library.”

  “That certainly makes sense. So where is it in actuality?”

  Agatha got up and headed towards one of the book-covered walls. “If I’m reading it correctly, there’s a hidden room. Several of them, actually, but the one we want now is here.” She waved her hands. “—ish.”

  Tarvek rolled his eyes. “Great. All we have to do is figure out where an evil, paranoid genius would put the access to a secret room that protects his family’s greatest secrets.”

  “True. Let’s try to think like a diabolical, amoral megalomaniac.” Agatha thought for a second, then turned to Tarvek and smiled at him engagingly. “Where would you put it?”

  Caught in the light of her smile, Tarvek grinned back and tapped an unassuming book. “Oh, I’d put it right here!” Instantly a section of the bookshelf swung aside on smooth pivots.

  “I knew it!” She patted him on the cheek. “Thank you, Tarvek.”

  Realization of the implications of this played across Tarvek’s face and he glared at Agatha. “Now just a minute . . . ”

  “And here’s all our equipment!”

  The space was filled with little clanks, each carrying a component or tool. They bounced about and waved. “Fascinating. They didn’t get lost, they just continued on to where they were supposed to go.”

  “Makes sense,” Tarvek admitted grudgingly. “They have access to smaller conduits. And secret passageways must run all through the place. That’s what we paranoid megalomaniacs would do.”

  Agatha nodded as she looked at a wall of machinery. It was definitely some sort of monitoring-and-control station. If any place housed the soul of the Castle personality, it would be here. “Really. Now where would you put an access panel?”

  Tarvek looked offended, paused, and then pointed towards an inconspicuous set of switches. “There.”

  Immediately, Agatha looked on the wall directly opposite of where Tarvek had pointed. She found a screw that seemed out of place and, with a deft twist, the false front swung aside revealing a much more complicated array. “Amazing! Well done!”

  Tarvek stared at her. “Hey! I said over there!”

  Agatha waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I knew you were lying.”

  As she mentally analyzed the set-up before her, she searched for a rheostat that controlled “insanity.” She wasn’t surprised it was absent, but a girl could hope. The layout before her abruptly clicked into place. Yes! This will work! “Let’s get this head hooked in and . . . ” A silent seething from beside her gave her pause. “Aw, now you’re mad.”

  “Am not.”

  “Hee. And now you’re lying again.”

  Tarvek, whose pride—not to mention continued existence—had long depended on an ability to lie convincingly, grit his teeth. Suddenly, a cool hand touched his cheek and drew his face back towards Agatha’s. Her eyes were wells of sympathy. “Oh Tarvek, I understand you’re just using the experience you gained—at great personal pain—from life with your family. I know that deep down, in your heart of hearts, you have a noble soul.”

  Tarvek’s breath caught and his heart clenched. “Agatha— I . . . you . . . ” His face went cold. “You’re messing with me on purpose.”

  Agatha’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh. You can tell.”

  With a snort, Tarvek shouldered her aside and studied the panel. “Hand me Otilia’s head,” he said brusquely. Several tense minutes followed as Tarvek began testing circuits and slowly began constructing a transfer shunt. He threw down a pair of wire-strippers and faced Agatha. “Okay, fine. You know what? I admit it. I’m totally one of the ‘bad guys,’ okay? I’m a great big devious weasel. But it’s not like that should be some kind of great big surprise! And I won’t apologize for it either, because I’m with you now and I’m exactly the kind of person you’re going to need on your side now
that you’ve been revealed as the Heterodyne.”

  Agatha tched. “Oh dear, you really are mad.” She giggled, “And not in a good way.”

  Tarvek’s eyes narrowed. “And you are acting very strange.” He paused. “You’re acting . . . ” He recoiled. “You’re acting like Lucrezia!”

  “How dare you,” Agatha flared, then stopped, appalled. Her head began to roar, almost sending her to her knees. She took a deep breath and marshaled her thoughts. The pressure receded.

  She opened her eyes to see Tarvek watching her warily, a heavy spanner in his hand. When he saw Agatha looking at it, he hastened to hide it behind his back. Agatha held up a hand. “It’s okay. She’s not in control.”

  Tarvek kept his distance. “But?”

  “But,” Agatha replied, “You’re right. She is here.” Gently she massaged her temples. “She’s always . . . pushing. And well, frankly, I’m exhausted. When this is all over, I want to sleep for a week.” She looked at Tarvek with tired eyes. “She can’t take control. Not fully. Not while I wear the locket, but she’s trying to influence me and she’s had a lot of experience in doing that to people.” A faint wisp of smug malice flickered briefly through Agatha’s thoughts. She shuddered. “It’s horrible! I can’t even trust my own emotions! Tarvek, what am I going to do?”

  Several schemes that could utilize this situation arrayed themselves in Tarvek’s mind before he viciously crushed all but two of them, which he guiltily filed away for future consideration. He took a deep breath. “You can’t trust your own emotions? Fine.” He patted his chest. “You can trust mine. I know how you act and I know how Lucrezia acts.” He stepped in and placed his hands on Agatha’s shoulders. “And yes, there is a difference. A huge one and it’s a difference worth fighting for. We’ll beat her. You’ll see. I’m going to stay by your side until we completely eradicate all traces of her personality from your mind.”

  Agatha looked skeptical. Tarvek continued, “Between what I already know from my father, and what Lucrezia taught me herself while in Sturmhalten, and what I can learn from her own lab here, I believe that I can remove her rather easily, once I get a chance.”

  A jolt of fear echoed through Agatha’s mind, causing her to actually smile. “I think she believes you can.” Agatha took a deep breath and released it in a rattling sigh. She impulsively leaned in and gave Tarvek what she had planned as a brief hug. But once she had her arms around him, she found herself unwilling to let go. Tarvek stared at the top of her head and then gingerly, as if unwilling to allow himself to believe what was actually happening, enfolded her in his arms and held her tightly.

  “Thank you, Tarvek,” she whispered. “And . . . I’m sorry for teasing you.”

  “As long as it’s you doing it, you can tease me all you want.”

  Agatha felt a delicious shiver at his words, which brought her up short. “Wait. Are these my feelings or hers?”

  Tarvek gave her a tentative squeeze. “Probably yours. I can’t see Lucrezia worrying about anything, let alone feel the need to apologize.” With a regretful sigh, he released her from his arms. “Now let’s finish setting up that transfer.”

  Theo was living in the moment. He could feel it. That glorious sensation that only came when he surrendered to the power of the spark and let it use his hands and brain to reshape reality. “Hit the first switch,” he cried.

  Off to the side, Moloch heaved a sigh and grasped a knife switch that was almost larger than he was. “Yeah, yeah, here it goes.”

  Beside him, Fräulein Snaug looked scandalized. “It’s ‘yes, Master.’ ” she whispered.

  Moloch gave her a sour look. “Not even if it would get me out of here today.” Then he drove the switch home. Instantly, halos of electricity blossomed around the laboratory, the largest centered on Von Pinn and the great cat clank.

  “The generators are coming up to speed,” reported Mezzasalma. He checked some readings, put a hand against an engine cowling, and swore as he jerked it back. “This equipment is too old! I’m getting huge amounts of excessive vibration!”

  “Keep them together just a bit longer, old fellow,” Mittelmind called out cheerfully. His hands danced across a series of consoles, delicately adjusting current flow intuitively. “The neural translators are almost finished!” He shook his head in admiration. “Ha! That Lucrezia—what a beautifully twisted mind! Her system makes it all so simple!”

  Standing amidst a cluster of power pylons, Sleipnir reported, “Power’s holding steady . . . ” With a start, she realized she actually had nothing to do. She stared at the pylon above her as a swarm of little mechanisms crawled over its surface. Left behind by Agatha, they had been diligently repairing the equipment even before the others had returned. They’re patching potential shorts before they happen, she thought with admiration.

  Moloch was straining to hold down the lid of a battered soup pot. Faint hammering could be heard from within. “Okay,” he called out, “we’ve disengaged the driver clanks from the security clank.”

  Snaug sealed up the cranial cover. “The clank should now be fully autonomous.”

  The clank gave a shudder and its eyes began to glow.

  “A possible problem,” Mittelmind called out. “The neural interfaces are synchronized, but we’re fighting signal degradation on the organic side.”

  Theo swore as he confirmed the problem. “The strain on the organic body is too much for its damaged state. It is almost spent! We must do this correctly the first time!”

  A row of lights in front of Sleipnir switched one-by-one from orange to green. “We’re getting full signal transfer,” she reported. “All circuits are engaged!”

  “What we are getting is dangerous levels of oscillation.” Mezzasalma scuttled away as one of the generators began visibly shuddering. “The shock mounts are starting to crumble! Cut the power!”

  “We’re experiencing a resonance disaster,” Mittelmind said calmly. “We must shut it down before—”

  “No! Not yet!”

  A thunderous boom shook the room. Sleipnir stared upwards in horror as cracks began to spread in the already-unstable ceiling. “Theo!”

  “Stay where it’s safe,” Theo yelled back. “You promised!”

  “I will! But you’ve all got to move! The ceiling is going to collapse!”

  “Just a few more seconds . . . ”

  “No!” she screamed as the ceiling seemed to slip sideways. “Now! You’ve got to move—”

  Her voice was lost in a grinding roar of stone and dust that seemed to shake the world—

  And then—

  There was silence punctuated by the occasional rattle of debris. A particular mound shifted aside, revealing the dusty form of Moloch von Zinzer. He spat out a mouthful of grit, then looked anxiously down at the girl cradled in his arms. “Hexalina? Are you . . . ?”

  Snaug blinked and looked up at him. “I’m fine,” she whispered, and then allowed herself to relish the situation. “Oh yes,” she purred, “mighty fine indeed.”

  Another pile shifted to reveal Theo, battered but whole. “Sleipnir? Are you okay?”

  In an instant, she was next to him pushing rocks aside. “I’m here. Are you all right?”

  “I am.” Theo freed a leg and examined it in wonder. “Amazing. I really am.” He glanced upwards and recoiled when he saw solid metal less than a meter above him. His cry of surprise made them all look up. The great metal cat was standing over them all, legs wide to shield them from the collapse. It shrugged; rocks and support beams slid to the floor. It gave a rumbling rattle, which Theo realized was actually a deep mechanical chuckle. “But of course, children. Am I not Otilia, the Muse of Protection?”20

  With a groan and a clatter, Professor Mezzasalma extracted himself from under a semi-collapsed table. He sighed, pulled an oily rag from a pocket, and began wiping down his mechanical legs. “I see that if it were not for you . . . ah . . . madam, we would have been crushed.”

  “Indeed you would have been
, were I still imprisoned within that frail sheath of dying meat.”

  By this time they had all crawled free. The cat clank gave a great rattling shake that sent dust and gravel flying. Theo turned to look, but the apparatus—and the remains of the construct they had known as Von Pinn—were entombed under several tons of rock.

  The mechanical cat gnashed its jaws and bowed to the assembled people. “Well done, children.” It lifted a large paw and regarded it critically. “While this body cannot compare with the work of my creator,21 I find it—” It flexed its paw and gleaming claws slid forth, and then, with a hiss, smoothly retracted. “—acceptable.” It then glanced up and casually shoved Doctor Mittelmind a meter to its left. A chunk of stone crashed to the floor where he had been standing. “But now, children, the Castle continues to crumble and this room is dangerously unstable. We must leave this place immediately.”

  “Actually,” Sleipnir said, “we can’t. The ceiling also collapsed inside the stairwell. We’re trapped down here.”

  Everyone considered this. Doctor Mittelmind sighed and clapped his hands together. “Cannibalism it is, then,” he said brightly. “Herr von Zinzer, which leg would you like us to start with?”

  “My leg?!”

  Professor Mezzasalma nodded. “Of course. A minion as talented as yourself, well, it would be foolish to eat you all at once.”

  At that moment the great clank interrupted. “The collapse appears to have cleared and reopened the shaft made by that troublesome Heterodyne girl.”

  Everyone glanced up at the ceiling that was easily six meters above them. It continued, “We shall simply go up.”

  A few minutes later, Professor Mezzasalma finished spinning an efficient web of rope around the body of the clank. Clutching this while astride the broad back was Moloch, looking resigned.

  Theo leaned in towards the great head. “Mistress von Pinn?”

  The great clank regarded him and seemed to smile. It was an unsettling sight. “That is no longer my name, child.” It flexed its claws hard enough that the rock floor below them cracked. “I am once again worthy to be called Otilia.”