Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

⁹⁷ Only one person had successfully circumvented this system; Herr Doktor Felix van Gunt, who had operated upon himself and removed his own head, enabling him to simply slip the collar off. Tragically, while he was leaving the castle with his head safely tucked under his arm, he misjudged the distances, and fell down a flight of stairs.

⁹⁸ Yes, yes, the whole “brain swap without surgery” thing. In a rare display of solidarity, Sparks have universally discouraged this particular field of research for two reasons. The first, that science is regarded with enough suspicion as it is, without allowing plausible justification for the whole ‘Is my ruler/boss/lover who I think they are? Or has their mind been replaced by an agent of a secret cabal that is out to get me?’ thing. The second, that it’s really hard to do, and those who manage to successfully pull it off are bloody insufferable about it.

CHAPTER 11

We then did as the Master commanded us, and when we were finished, lights, like fireflies, began to gleam in the darkness. P’raps it be but fancy, but I did feel as if a Great Presence, invisible and malevolent, was being slowly roused from a deep slumber, and was looking about like a man roused from a wine-induced sleep.

A most terrible noyse did fill the chamber, and Master Faustus did laugh in glee. “The power of speech is not learned instantly! Try thou again,” he demanded.

There followed a most unpleasant span of tyme, but shortly enough, the howls and squeals did slowly transmute themselves unto the very semblance of speech. Horrid and blasphemous though ’twas, I could now understand its words.

“Who…am I?” The horrible voice asked.

This simple question did please the Master right well, more than anything I have ever witnessed in all my time under his hand.

“Didst thou hear that, von Mekkhan? No mere mechanism of rote calculation this! It asks a question! It hath a thirst for knowledge! I proclaim it a thing alive!”

Master Faustus then spun about and spake proudly, “Thou art…Castle Heterodyne.”

—From the Private Journals of the von Mekkhan Family

Agatha was hovering in mid-air. Her hair was billowing straight up, as if caught in some terribly powerful slow gale.

Around her floated a galaxy of small devices and bits of machinery that were assembling themselves into a cohesive ring. Connectors snapped together and cables coiled lazily towards a belt of sockets that encircled Agatha’s waist. Whenever one slid into place, a new segment of the ring glowed to life. All of this was happening without Agatha moving a muscle. A look of knowing bliss filled her face, and her skin glowed with radiant energy.

Because he was shackled to a lab table, Tarvek was unable to do the sensible thing—the thing that his brain was screaming for him to do—which was drop to his knees and await the thunderbolt. He fought to regain self-control.

“Agatha,” he ventured. “Are…are you all right?”

To the side, the angel clank stared upwards. “You know-ow-ow, I don’t-can’t remember that any of her ancestors ever did-id this…”

Higgs shifted his pipe from one side of his mouth to the other. “Sure they did. Remember old Igneous? Just before he exploded?”

The clank nodded. “Ah, yes. My, h-h-ow time does fly.”

Agatha turned her glowing eyes to Tarvek and regarded him for a long minute. Then she threw her head back and laughed. Tarvek made remarkable strides towards tearing his straps free from the metal table.

“Oh, yessss! I am far more than all right!” Agatha said, “I am perfect!” She glided toward Tarvek, radiating heat that he could feel from almost a meter away.

“I feel…suspended in an eternal moment of supreme clarity. I can do anything!”