Agatha H and the Voice of the Castle

Krosp grinned at Carson who had collapsed into his seat. “Convinced yet?”

“NO!” The old man shook himself and sat up. “Not until the Castle accepts her control.” He watched the room, which was full of a renewed sense of purpose. “But she’s bought herself the time to get there,” he admitted.

Krosp shrugged. “Then the sooner she gets there, the better.”

“The cat is right,” Wooster stated. “If the people on that pink airship are as organized as you believe, then they’ll have spies in town.” He gazed out at the chaos that filled the room and continued to spill out onto the street. “They’ll hear about this soon enough and then Miss Agatha will be in danger. We must move quickly.” That said, he sat down and deliberately poured himself another cup of coffee. “However, I doubt we’ll be able to get her out of here before she is done ‘fixing’ your coffee engine.”

Vanamonde looked relieved. “Thank goodness, do you know what that thing cost?”

Carson ignored him. He studied Wooster. “You’ve been around Sparks then?”

Ardsley nodded as he sipped his coffee. “Oh, yes.” He examined Agatha with an educated eye. “As long as she’s in the middle of something, I really wouldn’t recommend trying to move her.”

The old man sat down and nodded. “I agree.”

There was a sudden odd sound and one of the large copper pots shuddered and imploded down into a small chunk of metal. The crowd cheered.

“How long?” Van asked.

Carson considered this. “Something like this? I’d say a strong Heterodyne would take about two hours to truly warp the laws of nature.”

Krosp flicked an ear. “I thought you weren’t convinced.”

Agatha picked up the chunk of metal and saw Zeetha snickering. “I meant to do that,” she said, and tucked the chunk into a space that accommodated it perfectly. A row of lights lit up.

Carson shivered. “I’m getting there.”

A coded series of taps sounded on the hospital room door.

“Come in.”

Dr. Sun gingerly swung the door inwards and then stopped in surprise. Gil was busy fighting with two men who were flailing away with, as it happened, flails.

“Huh,” the old man looked interested. “You don’t really see proper flails much these days, much less trained flail-fighters.”

“I have news for you,” Gil said sardonically. “You’re not really seeing them now.” With that he elegantly disarmed both fighters while running his sword through the one on the left.

The man on the right screamed and pulled a knife.

“I can come back if you’re busy,” Sun remarked frostily, tapping his foot.

“Not particularly,” Gil said. He skewered the man’s hand. The knife flew upwards and Gil snagged it at the top of its arc. He frowned in disappointment. “Hmf. I was hoping it was one of those Sturmhalten Sewer knives.” He tossed it aside and looked at Sun. “You have news?”

Sun tipped his head back towards the hallway. “I have a soldier here with an interesting report.”

“Send him in,” Gil said, “I’ll be done in a moment.”

“Wrong,” his opponent roared. He held up a small device in his uninjured hand. “Kill me and this dead-man switch will release and blow you and your bloody Baron to bits!”

A large sea-green hand closed over the upraised fist. “Vell, ve kent haff dot.” A tall Jäger in a crisp white uniform then casually ripped the assassin’s arm off. As the man screamed and collapsed to the ground, the Jäger swiveled about and gave the startled Gilgamesh a perfect salute. “I haff not yet giffen my report,” he explained.

He looked down at the shrieking assassin and with a booted heel, gave a savage stomp, crushing his throat.

Gil swallowed. Thanks to the Baron’s efforts, much of the Jägermonsters’ casual cruelty and disregard for human life had been knocked out of them (or at least been better hidden). This fellow seemed untouched by the Baron’s behavioral modification efforts. A sudden realization hit him.

“A Jäger? Here in Mechanicsburg?”¹⁶

The creature looked down at him and sneered. “Captain Vole. Mechanicsburg Security Division. I iz not a Jäger, sir.”

Gil was used to having to humor a great many self-delusional people amongst the Empire’s command staff, but there were some things that could not remain unchallenged. “How do you figure that?”

The creature spat. “Der Jägers iz veak. Dey cannot let go of der oldt dead masters. I heff renounced der Jägertroth.”¹⁷

Gil blinked. “You can do that?”

Sun stepped in. “It wasn’t his idea.” The tall Jäger looked away as Sun continued, “They threw him out. It was an unprecedented move.”

Gil nodded slowly. “And your loyalty to the House of Heterodyne?”

Vole snapped his head back. “Pah. Non-existent, sir.”

“Fascinating. Your news?”

“Yes, sir. Dere iz now, in der town, a second gurl claiming to be a Heterodyne.”

Gil felt a tightening in his chest. “A second girl…is she also attempting to enter the castle?”

“No, sir.” Vole shrugged. “She iz in a coffee shop.”

“A coffee—what is she doing in a coffee shop?”

“Hy’m told she iz makink coffee, sir.”

A touch of annoyance crept into Gil’s voice. “Making coffee.”

Vole grinned. “Dere haff been three explosions so far, sir.”