Carson looked as if he’d seen a ghost. “She…she’s heterodyning,”15 he breathed.
Krosp looked interested. “What? The music thing? She does that all the time. Is that what it’s called?”
Vanamonde stood entranced. remember this. Before the Masters disappeared…” He swung around and clutched at Carson’s sleeve. “Grandfather, maybe she really is—”
Agatha straightened up and wiped her brow. In the sudden silence she held a hand up behind her head. “Hepler wrench!”
“Yes, Mistress,” the crowd roared and easily two dozen wrenches appeared for Agatha to choose from.
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.”
The surety struck Gil like a bolt of his own lightning. “Agatha!” He turned to Dr. Sun. “It’s her! It’s got to be her!”
The old man frowned. “Wait. This is the genuine Heterodyne girl you said was ‘already taken care of’? But now you look pleased that she’s here.”
Gil realized that he was, in fact, grinning like an idiot, and his pulse was racing. He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be pleased.”
Sun looked wary. “Oh?”
Gil continued, “Father is convinced she’s dangerous.”
Sun glanced over at Klaus’s array of medical devices and the bandaged man they served. “Well, all the evidence does suggest—”
“That is why I sent her to England.”
Dr. Sun had worked very hard over the years, perfecting a reputation for heroic unflappability. He was usually very good at it. Thus, it was a shame for Gil that he had his back to him at that moment.
“You did what?18 You sent a genuine Heterodyne heir to England?” It seemed something of a counter intuitive move.
Gil shrugged. “You remember my man, Ardsley Wooster? He was a British agent. I had to use him to get Agatha out of Sturmhalten. Allowing him to take her to England seemed like the best motivation.”
Sun stared at him. Gil began to feel somewhat anxious under that unflinching stare. He tried to explain: “I wasn’t going to let them keep her, of course. I told him that if they didn’t keep her safe for me, I’d destroy them, okay?”
Dr. Sun was one of those Sparks who liked to believe that he trod rather firmly upon the path of sanity. He did this by maintaining a rock-steady focus upon the administration of the Great Hospital and only unleashed his own considerable talents when he was devising new medicines or treatments. He tried to avoid the politics of the Empire, but even he was familiar with the tensions between the two great powers. He knew well enough how much even a casual threat by the young Wulfenbach could affect the entire continent. He took a deep breath.