71 Zola is understating things. Cain Mongfish’s masterpiece, A Reasoned Diatribe Regarding thee Methods and Required Madnesses Towards the Manipulation of ye Stuffe of Life and thee Entertaining Consequences Thereof and How Best to Avoid Them is regarded as the seminal work that gathered and codified all of the then-known processes for reanimating, bending, warping, and subjugating life as we know it. Cain died while researching a sequel, which according to his notes was to be entitled How to Promote and Manipulate thee Natural Fealty and Gratitude That Thine Creation Will Express Towards Thou, Their Creator. For some reason, that never works.
CHAPTER 8
After Faustus Heterodyne finished his Great Work, the waters of the river Dyne ran clean—at least beyond Mechanicsburg’s famous “mouth of the Dyne” sculpture through which it leaves Castle Heterodyne and falls to the base of the pinnacle from which it springs. Previously, the waters had been possessed of unusual and generally poisonous properties and had wound through the landscape, killing or mutating man and beast alike.
Once the waters of the Dyne were cleansed and the Castle and its defenses improved, the Heterodyne began the task of fully establishing his town.
Faustus liked the idea of ruling his own city, but—aside from his own band of reavers, the occasional oppressed servant, and the extremely odd camp followers that favored his men—the area was sorely lacking in people. The Heterodyne was forced to create a thriving population from next to nothing. He threw himself into the challenge with a will.
From that point on, across Europa and Asia, indeed, wherever he raided, Faustus was seen consulting what his men jovially called “The Master’s Shopping List.” But it was not a list of stores, treasure, or materials—it was a list of people.
Like a hausfrau at market, the Master of Castle Heterodyne browsed the World and carefully selected farmers, carpenters, engineers, stonemasons, and a half a hundred other professions, all lured or looted to populate the town that was to become Mechanicsburg.
As a result, while there are many other adjectives that can be used to describe the Heterodyne’s creation, the first and foremost one must be cosmopolitan.
—Mechanicsburg: Economic Principles of a Town That Should Not Work by Professor Isaac Horowitz/ Transylvania Polygnostic University Press
Agatha had set out by herself, following the Castle’s directions, and she now found herself toiling up a tilted floor. There were cracks throughout the stonework. She climbed upward gingerly as the cracks became wider. The Castle had assured her that this broken hallway was the quickest, safest way to Gil—but it had been quiet for a while, now. She wondered just how much perverse amusement it was getting from watching her clamber around, puffing with effort. She briefly considered turning back and demanding another, easier route. Then she realized that it could probably always find someplace worse—and more entertaining—to send her.
As she pulled herself to the top of the incline, she realized that she was now standing upon a giant saw-toothed gear. Faintly gleaming in the darkness around her, she saw several more, equally large. Agatha marveled at the sight. She again moved forward, but carefully. She didn’t want to damage anything else.
The Castle broke in on her thoughts with a wracking, metallic cough. “Oh, now this is interesting. I really do have to thank your young man, my Lady. I can now observe several areas formerly closed to me.” It made a sound remarkably like a fussy professor clucking his tongue. “I really do need dusting.”
“What about Gil?” Agatha felt a flash of annoyance at the eagerness she heard in her own voice.
“Ah. He is with our imposter.”
“That pink fake? What’s he doing with her?!”
Gil slammed a hand down on a countertop. “You shot him in cold blood!”
“I’m the Heterodyne,” Zola said in a low, furious voice. She glanced at the prisoners. “People have expectations. I had to!”
“Had to? You didn’t even hesitate!”
The Castle paused, processing the conversation. “He is complimenting her.”
Agatha felt a pang in her heart. “Really?”
Zola stomped her heel and leaned in. “If I show weakness, these scum will defy me!”
Gil shook his head. “But you didn’t even try anything else.”
Zola rubbed her temples. “I’m not as clever as you,” she muttered, “and I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Generally, shooting people is the last resort!”
“He is impressed with the way she does things,” the Castle said. Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “And she thinks that he is clever,” the Castle continued, helpfully.
“For a normal person, yes! These people are animals! They have to fear us, or else they’ll turn on us!”
“Of course they will!” Gil’s voice was sarcastic. “So how about we just shoot them all now and get it over with? Then we can build a nice doomsday device and wipe out all of Europa!”
“He has asked her out on a date.”
Agatha took a slow, deep breath. “I see.” She blew a lock of hair away from her eyes. “Well, I don’t care what he’s getting up to with the sugarplum airship princess. He can jolly well put it on hold until he’s had a look at Tarvek.” She kicked a fragment of rubble that lay at her feet—hard enough to send it smashing through a nearby window. It seemed to activate something. A warped wooden wall panel juddered aside and a large clank, armed with a rusty polearm, swiveled towards her.
“Die!” it rasped.
An instant later, its head and most of its torso boiled away into super-heated vapor. “I never said he was my boyfriend,” Agatha snarled as she stomped past. “That’s just what the rest of Europa seems to have decided!”
“Er…My Lady—” The Castle sounded slightly worried.
Agatha ignored it. “After all, let’s not forget why I’m risking my neck trying to find the idiot. I’ve already got a perfectly good ‘suitor’ on the slab—assuming I can keep the treacherous, duplicitous weasel alive!”
A faint sound came from above. Agatha kept walking—she merely raised her weapon and pulled the trigger. The rain of javelins directly above her exploded into a metallic mist along with an entire section of ceiling, upper stories, and roof, as the rest thudded to earth around her.
“Of course, my Lady, but…”
“And you know what really gets me angry?”
“Er…”
“I actually do like Tarvek. I mean, I can’t trust him, but that doesn’t mean I want him to die.” She paused. “Or even stay that weird color.”
The Castle tried again: “Ooh, but could you just—”
She came to the end of the hallway and glanced at the giant door before her. Agatha saw an intricate locking mechanism connected to a series of copper dials cunningly inscribed with alchemical symbols. She frowned.
“Behold!” a voice boomed. “The Puzzle of the Philosopher’s Conscience. If you can—”
Agatha raised her gun and a hole three meters in diameter burned into existence, its edges glowing red. She stepped through it.
“And the really annoying thing is that even if you completely misinterpreted the situation—which I wouldn’t put past you, by the way—Gil has still managed to get himself tangled up with Miss Pinkie Psycho Pants. He’s such an idiot! It’s just a good thing one of us has a death ray!”