Фил Фоглио - Agatha H. and the Siege of Mechanicsburg

”Boring,” Lucrezia sang out. “Just stick to the truth, darling. It’s usually easier to remember, anyway.” Zola stared back at her. “Is Klaus Wulfenbach really the ruler of Europa?”

“The Baron? Yes! Yes he is!”

“And everyone accepts this?”

Zola stared fixedly at the needles above her. “The Fifty Families don’t like it, but no one can resist him.”

Lucrezia sighed nostalgically. “I can believe that. And his empire—it’s stable?”

Zola paused. “He’s done nothing but expand it for the last sixteen years. He’s never had to deal with the problems of stability, per se.”

Lucrezia sighed. “That impossible man. He’s too good a piece to lose.” She nudged the syringe rack away with a foot. “All right, my dear, lucky for you, I simply must stay. We have a bargain.”

Zola allowed herself to relax back against the chair. She heard Lucrezia humming to herself as she began fiddling with a device on one of the work benches. She frowned. “Um . . . Auntie? Aren’t you going to release me?”

“All in due time, darling.”

Several minutes later, Lucrezia swept over lugging a complicated device that trailed several wiry cables behind her. She hooked it to the helmet and once again placed it on Zola’s head. “There we go,” she said cheerfully. “Now obviously I’ve had to make a few modifications, but this old equipment should prove quite adequate.” When she was satisfied, she placed another helmet on her own head and hooked up several more wires. Several lights came on and she nodded in satisfaction.

Zola spoke up, sarcasm thick in her voice. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

Lucrezia considered this and flipped a knife switch. Instantly a surge of power ripped through both women, causing Zola to gasp and driving Lucrezia to her knees. As abruptly as it began, the power cut off. Lucrezia took a deep breath and lifted the helmet from her head. “Try not to pass out?”

The girl in the chair stirred and her eyes flicked open. “Ooh,” said Lucrezia from Zola’s own mouth, with Zola’s own voice. “This does feel different.”

The first Lucrezia leaned over and gently tapped her forehead with

Agatha’s finger. “And is our dear little niece still in there?”

“Yes, she’s here.” Lucrezia/Zola frowned. “It’s a bit odd . . . this head feels wrong.”

Lucrezia/Agatha giggled as she began releasing the chair’s restraints. “Hardly surprising, dear, it is wrong. Whatever else I will say about my daughter Agatha, she is a very comfortable fit.”

Lucrezia/Zola levered herself out of the chair and stretched. She frowned. “Oh. I’m getting some of her surface thoughts.” She looked pensive. “She’s . . . gloating?”

Suddenly Zola froze; her eyes widened with astonished admiration. “Good heavens, Auntie! You got the Baron with a slaver wasp?”

The Lucrezia-within-Agatha rocked back. “What! How—?”

Zola’s eyes opened even wider. “Oooh, and that’s why no one’s ever been able to find the Citadel of Silver Light! Amazing! It explains so much!”

“Get out of those memories,” Lucrezia screamed. “Lucrezia, darling, are you even still in there? Fight her off!”

Zola shrugged. “Oh, she’s trying, but she can’t.”

Lucrezia rushed forward, a heavy wrench held high, but Zola pivoted smoothly and drove a foot into Lucrezia’s midriff. “The family has had years to prepare for your inevitable reappearance and Loremistress Milvistle was ever so much help!” She smirked down at the gasping Lucrezia and tapped her forehead. “My copy of you is now safely ensnared in a neural trap where I can sift through your precious secrets at my leisure.”

Lucrezia snarled in outrage, “You said you wanted to help me!”

Zola looked contrite. “That’s true.” Her expression changed to one of hurt surprise, “And yet— Oh dear. I see that you planned to vivisect me the minute you got your information back to your other selves. Oh, Auntie, really.”

Lucrezia screamed with rage and tried to climb to her feet. Zola casually swept them out from under her. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll keep my end of the bargain. A version of you will make it out of here. Your plans will go ahead beautifully. And no one, not even your other selves, will ever suspect that I’m the one in control.” She smiled sweetly and drew her pistol. “Now, as we agreed, it’s time for Agatha Heterodyne to die. Then I can take my time with those three fools you so conveniently locked up for me . . . ” A peculiar look crossed Zola’s face. “Wait . . . I’m getting . . . ” She looked at Lucrezia blankly. “You only found two? No, there were three. Violetta and Gil . . . ” Her eyes widened. “That means you missed—” She jerked back in surprise, which is why when Tarvek dropped from where he’d been hiding in the rafters, the cudgel he swung viciously at her head only cracked firmly across her wrist. Zola’s pistol spun away as she shrieked in pain and surprise. Tarvek was about to finish her off when he saw, from the corner of his eye, Lucrezia diving for the pistol.

Without hesitation, he swung his foot against her jaw, sending her crashing into a bank of machinery.

“Tarvek,” Lucrezia cried, “Don’t be a fool! Aid me! I am the Agatha girl!”

Tarvek rolled his eyes even as he dived for the gun. A jar of desiccated leeches shattered against his side and his hand missed the pistol by scant centimeters.

Zola followed. “Don’t listen to her, Prince Sturmvoraus! She’s the Other! We have to stop her!”

A small machine smashed into Zola’s forehead, stopping her dead in place.

Lucrezia followed, doing a full body dive for the gun. “If I die, your precious Agatha dies too! You dare not work against me!”

A wheeled tea cart caught her full in the face and dropped her to the floor. The three rose to their feet simultaneously and realized they were all equidistant from the pistol. There was a tense moment while they all appraised each other . . . and then all moved at once.

Tarvek leapt towards the gun and was astonished when he reached it unimpeded. He rolled to his knees, pistol in one hand and cudgel in the other, to find himself alone.

A clacking sound caused him to spin in time to see Zola snapping shut a large machine rifle of some sort, a triumphant grin on her bruised face.

An amused “ahem” drew both of their gazes to the other side of the room where Lucrezia stood smiling. When she saw they were both focused on her, she flipped a delicate switch. Instantly, the doors slammed shut and a series or red lights began blinking. A scratchy recorded voice drifted down from the ceiling: “Hello, intruders! The blast doors are now sealed, and my laboratory’s self-destruct mechanism has been engaged. Shouldn’t have snooped, darlings, but it’s too late now. You’re going to die horribly in sixty,

fifty-nine . . . ”

“What are you doing?” Tarvek demanded. “Stop it! You’ll die too!”

Lucrezia threw her head back and laughed. “No power on Earth can stop my perfect death-trap! This iteration’s death is unfortunate, but the two of you are so annoying that I consider it worth it!”

Zola’s lip curled. “No, I don’t think so.” In a single smooth movement she drew, pointed, and shot a high-pressure grappling gun upwards into the ragged shaft in the ceiling. From high above came the solid thunk of the hook. Lucrezia and Tarvek, after a momentary surprise, dashed towards her, but Zola engaged the winch and, with a laugh, was pulled up and out of their reach. “Later, Tarvek,” she sang out. “Or . . . maybe not. Bye Auntie, I’ll be sure to say ‘hello’ to your other selves! Hee hee hee . . . ”

And, still giggling, she vanished from sight. The two stared upwards. Tarvek looked at Lucrezia. “If she’s got that big gun, why didn’t she just shoot us?”