In this case, the design was familiar. “Ah, yes, one of Von Bodé’s[15] little toys.” He tossed the plate aside. “Was my son... upset?”
Bangladesh snorted. “Oh, him? Sure was. Here he was all set to be a hero and rescue his girl, then he finds out he’d need fireplace tongs to get her undressed? Yeah—upset is one word for it.”
Klaus rubbed his forehead. “Thank you, DuPree, for that... vivid imagery. You may go.”
DuPree looked around, and then casually tossed her pear core into the coffin. “Let me know when you’ve got something else for me.” She sauntered out of the room, calling after her: “And try to make it a fun one!”
Klaus leaned down and fished out the core. Allowing himself a rare display of temper, he fired it hard into a distant trash barrel, where it struck with a tremendous clang and sent the barrel toppling backwards. His secretary and second-in-command, Boris, was entering the hangar at that moment, and coolly caught it in two of his four arms setting it back upright without ever taking his eyes off the paperwork he carried[16].
“Herr Baron?” he said quietly, “The Jäger Generals are here.”
Klaus nodded. “Show them in.” Boris walked back and called to someone just out of sight. There was a rumble of reply, and the Baron turned to greet the three creatures who entered—the largest bending his head to get through the tall doorway.
These were the oldest of the Jägermonsters, constructs created to ride with the mad Heterodynes who had plagued Europa generations before Bill and Barry’s heroics had redeemed the family name. Long ago, these had been ordinary barbarian raiders, but through some process that Klaus had never been able to uncover, they were now nightmarish monsters—inhumanly strong, fast, and long-lived. All the Jägers were toothy, clawed and hairy to some degree. Some even sported horns or tails. Still, these three oldest stood apart from their brethren as much as the younger Jägers did from the rest of Humanity. Klaus wondered if the Generals had been the prototypes, with the procedure then refined for the other Jägers, or if the physical changes the creatures experienced became more pronounced the older they got. If so, the three who approached him now were very old Jägers indeed.
When they reached him, the generals paused smartly “at attention” before the Baron. The three wore uniforms from completely different armies. This was another peculiarity of the Jägers, who loved the idea of uniforms, but never quite understood the concept behind making everyone wear the same one.
General Zog, the most traditional, wore mostly his own luxurious fur—shining white under a leather and brass warrior’s harness that, although old, had been meticulously cared for. Zog was forever poised to sweep across Europa laying waste to all in his path—by himself, if necessary.
General Khirzhan was modern and cultured. He wore a bright red military uniform with huge epaulettes, all covered in shiny bullion, but no shoes. The general’s clawed green feet were bare, and tough as old leather. Tusks curled upward from his great mouth. These were capped with gold that had been engraved to match the pattern of the rings in his pointed ears.
General Goomblast towered above the other two, a shaggy behemoth with a brass dome screwed directly onto his cranium. He wore soft clothing with an eastern look to it, and a huge pair of goggles over his eyes.
After holding their pose dramatically for thirty seconds, the Generals seemed to feel that they had done their duty by military protocol. They relaxed, eyeing the Baron curiously.
“Generals.” Klaus began. “I want to thank you for your recent efforts.” The creatures acknowledged this compliment with serious nods. Without the Jägermonsters, the Slaver Wasps might actually have overwhelmed Castle Wulfenbach. Three of the monster soldiers had actually died, an extraordinarily high number.
General Khirzhan spoke up. “Yaz, Herr Baron. Ov course ve help vit de bogz, hey? Nasty tings. But... surely dere vos something else hyu vished to talk to us about?”
Khirzhan was the shrewdest of the old Generals—the one who remembered best what it had been to be human. It made him easier to talk to, but also more dangerous. This would be tricky, Klaus thought. Well, their reaction would be interesting...
“You have been enquiring after a...” The Baron pretended to think, “ah, yes, a Miss Clay?”
Zog blinked first. “Ah, vell, ve vas just—”
Khirzhan smoothly stepped on his foot. “Yas,” he rumbled. “Ve did. Vy?”
The Baron moved back and indicated the coffin on the floor. “I am sorry, but she is dead. She ran afoul of an old clank while she was traveling in the Wastelands.” The Jägers crowded in around the coffin and stared down at it.
Klaus paused. This was the dangerous part. The Jägers’ loyalty to the House of Heterodyne was unshakeable. To have a genuine heir appear suddenly after all of these years, only to be killed... Anything could happen. He continued. “I am not happy about this... it... is not what I wanted.”
The Jägers looked at him for a long moment. Even with their distorted features, Klaus could see their confusion.
Zog glanced back at the burned corpse. “But...”
Goomblast shook his head. “Dis iz—”
Khrizhan pushed forward. “Uv course hyu deed not vish for diz poor gurlz death. Who vould vant soch a ting?”
The other two Generals looked at each other, but kept silent. Khrizhan continued, “She vos a very nize gurl. Ve... ve are very sad. Poor ting. Thenk hyu for letting us know, yah?”
Klaus nodded. This was going better than he had dared hoped. It was a bit odd, actually. “If you would like some kind of service held... ah, discreetly, of course?”
Khrizhan open his mouth and then froze. He stared at Klaus for several seconds. General Goomblast smoothly stepped into the conversational void. “We did not get a chance to... properly know de yong lady but Hy em sure dot de spirits uv her ancestors vould—”
“THE HETERODYNE IS DEAD!” Khrizhan’s scream was no doubt heard through half of Castle Wulfenbach. The other two generals stared at him in astonishment. Then their heads snapped back towards the open coffin. Klaus could see the mental connections being made inside their ancient heads, they both then stared at him—
Klaus stepped back. This set the monsters off and with a great roaring and screaming, they proceeded to try to tear the hangar apart. In a blind rage, Zog came at the Baron with claws extended. It was a glorious fight, lasting almost half an hour, and afterwards, the Baron joined them in a bout of drinking that quite erased any doubts before they were even formed.
Ironically, it was the subsequent hangover that inspired Klaus to take the next step...
The bed was hard. It was really only a flat linen sack—stuffed with horsehair and laid out on a wooden shelf—but Agatha slept peacefully, Krosp curled snugly against her back.
Suddenly, a finger pressed lightly against her nose, and a soft voice whispered, “Beep!” Agatha snapped awake and saw Zeetha grinning at her in the predawn light. The green-haired girl set down a small pile of clothing, pointed at it with a significant look, and stepped out of the wagon, closing the door behind her.
A few minutes later, Agatha reluctantly crept out into the cold morning air. What Zeetha had left was a brown, toga-like shift. Agatha had spent several frantic minutes looking for the rest of the outfit. Her clothing from the day before was nowhere to be found. Scandalous stories she’d heard about actors began to sound worryingly plausible.
It looked like no one else was awake except for a couple of roustabouts, who were standing watch around the central fire. They perked up when they saw Agatha’s costume, but a growl from Zeetha caused them to speedily avert their eyes.
15
The Spark in question, one Hugo Von Bode, had enjoyed sending his creations out on random voyages of chaos and destruction “Just to keep things from getting boring!” Klaus had taken some pains to ensure that his last minutes had been anything but.
16
Boris Vasily Konstantin Andrei Myshkin Dolokhov was one of the most fascinating of Baron Wulfenbach’s inner circle. The Baron had rescued him from slavery and Boris repaid him with a lifetime of loyalty. Although he frequently assumed total control of the Empire when the Baron was injured or indisposed, he never seems to have been tempted to exploit this power for his own ends. He simply took joy in things functioning smoothly and efficiently. By all accounts, he was reckoned the most boring man in the Empire.