Agatha H. and the Fair Dinkum Blue - Part 4!
Part three is here!
What: a fanfiction for Girl Genius, featuring my literary stand-in and stunt double Mara
Time: continuing after The Pauper Princess and the Way of the Trilobite.
The story so far!
--Agatha has odd ideas about what a funny story is.
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Legal disclaimer stuff:
"This story is not approved by, sponsored by or affiliated with Studio Foglio LLC or Airship Entertainment."
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The Pauper Princess Fanfiction Theatre Presents:
Agatha H. and the Fair Dinkum Blue - Part 4!
A lovely compromise was worked out; the Wulfenbach and Sturmvoraus forces now understood that they were making their own damned batteries, but owing strictly to the goodness of the Heterodyne Girls' hearts, ten batteries were created as templates for their allies. Five each, that is. Anything else was up to them. Of course the "Heterodyne Girls" sobriquet was an internal one; the Techmasters themselves did not know Mrs. Mouseheart's familial ties to Agatha, or as Franz might have put it, "prob'ly the only two guys left that don't know."
Dinner with her corulers started out well enough, but devolved quickly once Agatha got around to telling her 'funny' story.
Gil pointed a thumb Tarvek's way. "I am not locking myself in a bedroom with him."
"Likewise," said Tarvek.
"See?" said Gil. "Even he doesn't want to be in a room with himself."
"Oh, such wit."
"Look," said Agatha, "She didn't mean it literally. On the other hand, it's Zeetha. She's just the sort who would. My point is..!" She sounded very confident up to then, until her 'point' suddenly executed a daring escape from her head and fled into parts unknown, laughing maniacally all the while.
Gil had no patience to wait. "Being 'locked in a bedroom' with you would be the greatest moment of my life. And yet it would be fleeting. I'm too greedy for that."
"Stop it," said Agatha, dragging her point back kicking and screaming. "None of this is fair. This is all on me, you know. Me, choosing between two men. Which I could never do personally, never mind politically. And it is not fair. So... Zeetha had another suggestion, that I scorned at first, but thinking more about it now... I think, um... I think she's right. We need to free ourselves."
Tarvek regarded her with puzzled suspicion. "Meaning?"
"We need to... allow for other people," she said. "In our lives. Suitors."
"I don't suppose it occurred to you that this is none of Zeetha's business?" said Gil.
"She's my mentor, Gil," said Agatha. "She takes that role very seriously, and is my friend. This is... what friends do. Advise each other. I happen to agree with her."
"No," said Gil. The other two looked his way in equal surprise. "That is, you do what you wish. But Agatha, if I can't have you, I will have no one else."
"Gil, don't you dare do that to me-!"
"I do nothing to you," he said. "It's not a threat. It's not blackmail. It's simply a fact. Whether you chose Tarvek, some other swain, or as now, no one at all, the result would be the same. I will have no one else."
"And I've been called a drama king," quipped Tarvek. "I suppose the idea of continuing Clan Wulfenbach means nothing to you?"
"I don't see a string of heirs coming from you," he said. "Besides: I could adopt."
"Hm. I'm not against that concept myself," said Tarvek, stroking his chin. "I've always wondered how much of my family's little behaviorial quirks are hereditary. And I've always wanted to conduct a 'nature versus nurture' experiment."
"What a loving father you'll be," said Gil.
"Like yours?"
Before Gil could hurl himself across the table and throttle his counterpart, Agatha cleared her throat loudly before speaking up. "I don't want to adopt. I want my own children."
The two men calmed quickly and settled back in their seats. Agatha spoke with a distance to her voice and stared at nothing in particular. "I don't criticize adoption," she said. "But I know what I want. And what I want is my own flesh and blood. I want to make a child, and I don't mean in a lab."
"One from each of us?" said Tarvek, pointing to himself and Gil. Agatha just glared. "I'm sorry. It was a poor joke."
"You got that right," she grumbled.
"What about your cousin?" he said.
"What about her?"
"Do you think of her as...?" he started, then thought a bit more. "She already has children. Is that a comfort... or a threat to you?"
Agatha had given just that question some thought before, and a bit after. The problem was that she could never reach a decision about it.
"I would say comfort," she said. "Because it is. But then you would say-"
"Yes," said Tarvek, "I would say, don't get too comfortable. Keep a close eye on her kids, too."
"She's never given me reason to suspect - for lack of a better term - treachery. In fact, I often think it would be nice for our children - when I have them - to grow up together. Be friends as well as family. And you're both shaking your heads." They were. "Yes, dear friends, you don't have to say how naïve you think I'm being. I promise not to be blind to any dangers, whether from friend, foe, or family. But I prefer erring on the side of giving the benefit of the doubt."
"Still too trusting," tsked Tarvek, but in a teasing and not detracting manner. "So that's it, then? You're asking us to close the door on... us?"
"I, for one," said Agatha, "Refuse to indulge in polygamy, or polyamory, for that matter. I don't see how, politically, I can marry either of you or bear your children, and still have equal empires. So... yes." Her voice had a waver to it that was uncommon for her. "We have to close that door. I'm sorry, to both of you. I love you both, but as I said, I can't love you both. So... we need to open other doors. I don't want to remain... celibate. I need and want heirs. And they'll be raised with as much love, compassion, and moral fiber as I can muster. As much as Adam and Lillith mustered for me."
After a pause, Gil took up his wine goblet and drained it. He set it down slowly, pulled his napkin from his lap, dabbed at his mouth, tossed the napkin onto his plate, then summoned a minion to clear his area. All without a word.
"Gil?" said Agatha as he pushed back his chair to stand up. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he said as casually as he ever could. "I simply find myself weary this evening and will return early to my quarters. Don't break up your dinner on my account. Enjoy your desserts and... conversation." And with that, he left the room.
"Gil!" Agatha called after him, but to no avail. She looked to Tarvek. "Should I follow him?"
"I wouldn't," he said.
"Well, I know that you wouldn't," she said, rising from her seat.
"That's advice, not a quip," he said. "What could you possibly say to make him feel better?"
Agatha stared at the empty doorframe for several moments, as if expecting Gil to suddenly return. "Probably nothing." She slumped back into her chair. "Which means... Is there anything I can say to you?"
"Now that you've asked," he said, also pushing out his chair to stand, "No. There isn't. I still think it could work... and simultaneously know that it couldn't. Meanwhile, we're on our way to a war, and need to keep our heads clear. All of us. And on that note, I will bid you... good evening."
"Good evening," she whispered. Then she was alone in the room. A minion entered and refreshed her drink, then cleared Tarvek's part of the table. He took her dessert order before departing: chocolate-covered strawberries.
****
Gil dismissed his accompanying minions, ordered them to stay out until further notice, and was soon alone in his ship's quarters. For a long time he stood stock-still. So still that any minions happening to wander in at that time might wonder if he was imitating a powered-down clank. Eventually his physical needs surfaced, and he took a deep breath. He slowly removed his coat, boots, shirt, and otherwise gave the appearance of preparing for bed. He stopped before removing his trousers, and visited his bookcase to run an idle finger against the books on each shelf. He tipped back different books as if trying to decide which one to read. This was done ten times before pulling out an eleventh. He pulled that book out, opened it to the middle, then slammed it shut and put it back on the shelf.
There was a soft click behind and to the left of him. He moved to the bare corner where the sound had come from and gave it a gentle push. A door-sized piece of wall moved in, then slid over. Gil stood before the clank inside the hidden closet and stared at it. He reached inside and brushed at its false hair, accidentally knocking off its false spectacles, which Gil caught before they clattered to the floor. He carefully placed them back where they belonged, on the clank he had made himself, sculpted himself, outfit himself. In his mind it was an excellent likeness. To others - if any others would ever see it - it would very likely appear quite "off."
He stared at the Agatha-like clank and absently fingered the ring-like gas connector that he wore around his neck at all times. For the first time in years, he removed the chain, let the connector slip off, and placed it on the clank's ring finger. A perfect fit, just like it had been for Agatha when he'd first placed it on hers. There had even been a marriage proposal - of sorts - at the time. That did not pan out as hoped, and now here he stood, ruler of a third of his father's empire, staring into the smiling, but soulless face of the metallic substitute for his one true love.
He yanked off the connector/ring and threw it with all his might at the wall behind him. The walls being painted metal themselves, the trinket bounced off with a loud clink! and disappeared into parts unknown. He would find it soon enough. Eventually. Or why bother? No, he would look for it. Possibly. Oh, for what purpose?
Growling with a ferocity that could only come from the rage of betrayal, he pulled open a cupboard door with such force that the hinges came loose, and the door flew from his hands and clattered against the wall and floor. Unfazed, he pulled out the death ray inside, switched it on, and pointed it directly at the Agatha clank. His arm wavered slightly; he took aim again. When he pulled the trigger, this thing would be a pile of ash. When he pulled the trigger. When he- Just pull it. This is not her! This is an abomination! This is an obsession! Pull it!
PULL IT-
He powered down the death ray and let it clatter to the floor. His rage was still in full force, but he channeled it into tears and fell onto the clank, wrapping his arms around it. That was its cue to stir to "life." It responded to his embrace with one of its own. Its mouth did not move nor its expression change, but it spoke with an electrical recreation of Agatha's voice.
^clik^ I love you, Gil ^clik^ it said.
"I love you, Agatha," he whispered.
****
Tarvek quietly applied bandages to his bleeding fingers and hands. Even alone and unwatched, he kept his expression implacable, and had neither flinched nor grunted when applying antiseptic, which never failed to sting, After his wounds were tended to, he quietly searched for and found his notebook in the rubble of his quarters. Like Gil's, Tarvek's minions had been ordered from the room and told to stay away until further notice. Most importantly, to ignore any unusual noises coming from within.
Now that his head had been properly cleared, he could sit in-- Ah. The chair had only one leg now. The sofa was intact, albeit covered by shattered furniture and bric-a-brac. He found Dr. Kratzenschnupp's daily report under pieces of his desk. A space on the sofa was cleared of debris, and Tarvek settled back into the business of planning their war.
****
Agatha stopped outside Zeetha's quarters and prepared to knock, then heard something like a grunt from inside. She quietly put a hand on the latch, then pressed her ear to the door. The sounds she continued to hear on the other side indicated that Zeetha and Higgs were "busy." If Agatha knocked, and asked for Zeetha's time, it would be given, but she would not ask.
She held her talkbox and clicked it on, then clicked it off a second later. After some aimless wandering, she was not surprised to find Mara in the laboratory. Her assistant Heather was here, holding tightly onto some large device while Mara dug around on the other side. She held pliers and was trying to pull something out, which finally succeeded. Mara dropped her magnifying goggles in place and examined the piece; she showed relief that it appeared undamaged.
"Thanks so much, dear," she said, patting Heather's shoulder. "I've got this now."
Heather obtained her Lady's permission to be excused to join the other Guildern Guardians in the ship's rec room. When she saw Agatha, Agatha smiled and nodded in greeting. Heather paused, did not smile, but did nod slightly in response before departing.
Mara was more cheerful. "Well, hello again, hon! What can I do for you? Do you need me to clear some workspace for you?"
"Not this time," said Agatha tiredly. She glanced back at the door, then went to shut it. "How are things here? Do you ever leave this room?"
Mara laughed once, then shrugged. "Just trying to be useful, Ma'am. Don't worry; I do leave the room. Sometimes."
Sturm the clank was skittering around the room as before, but this time it emerged in plain sight and greeted Agatha by stroking and patting her hand. Much preferable to being stabbed there. After she acknowledged it, it disappeared into the clutter of the room once more.
Agatha almost corrected Mara's continued use of "Ma'am," but given that Mara also called her "hon," "dear," and other minor terms of endearment, it stood to reason that she was using "Ma'am" in similar fashion.
"What can you do for me," said Agatha to herself. "What can you do... You tell stories to your kids, do you?"
Mara smiled. "Of course."
"Do you have any stories with happy endings?" said Agatha. "I could use one right now."
"Well, anything we tell the children is like that," said Mara. "Are you saying that you want...?"
"I want to hear a really sappy, gooey, uncomplicated, over-the-top love story," said Agatha. She was quiet a moment, then perked up. "Tell me how you and Kelvin met and got married."
"I..." said Mara uncertainly. "First, should I be flattered that you think our story is 'sappy' and 'gooey?'"
"Oh, that came out wrong!" said Agatha. "It was-- Yes. Yes, I mean that as a compliment. Honestly! I want to hear your story, if you're willing."
"That's an... unexpected request," she said, "But I won't pry as to the reason. Oh! For myself, I would love to hear how Zeetha and Mr. Higgs met?"
Agatha thought for a moment. "During a bar fight at Mamma's, I believe."
"...Oh," said Mara. "Well, based on what I've observed, that probably counted as quite romantic for them. I hope to hear all the gooey detals someday. But then, you... want to hear the 'Pauper Princess' story?" She chuckled once. "Didn't buy the official, pop-up storybook in our gift shops, did you?"
"All right, I admit that I bought-- Wait, there's a pop-up book? I love those!"
"Then I shall obtain one for you if I return to Guildern," said Mara.
"'When,'" Agatha corrected. "When you return."
"Yes," said Mara quietly. "Silly me. 'When.' Um... but back to your request: shall I tell it here and now, or shall we return to your quarters, and I tuck you in with it?" She added a smirk and a wink.
Agatha did not return a smile or a wink. "You're right. I'm being ridiculous. Childish."
"Oh, nononono," said Mara. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have teased. I'm happy to help. Really."
"I appreciate that," said Agatha. "But I've changed my mind. What I really need is a break from 'love.' I'm going to finish my evening on the Jägers' ship. Care to join me?"
"...Is that a real invitation?" said Mara, peering intently at Agatha for any signs of jesting. "I suppose it is, then. So... no sappy love stories, after all? Because our story really is like that."
"I know," said Agatha, patting her arm. "I'm going to wait for the pop-up. And by the way, none of that leaves this room. My 'storytime' request. Understood?"
"Yes, perfectly."
Agatha clapped her hands together and rubbed them. "Then let's get to their ship! We need a break. Come on."
Mara looked like she had a severe stomachache. "Ah, I appreciate your concern, but...They're your people. You go on."
"They're our people," said Agatha sternly. "I've been checking in at least once a day since we left. Have you?" Based on Mara's expression, she knew the answer was no. "You should. It helps their morale. They like being around Heterodynes. Let's go."
"Uh... Yes, Ma'am." Agatha deduced that she meant it as a sign of compliance this time.
****
Mara was relieved that the Jäger had not turned their barracks airship into one continuous brawl, though the main gathering room, aka the mess hall, did show signs of ... scuffing. As for Agatha, she was disappointed in the uncustomary serenity of the place and gave a simple order - "Let's hear some music!" - which was enough to get a party going. Mamma Gkika had even brought one of her karaoke machines and had it set up in no time. She was staying with the troops' on this ship, unlike the other Jägergenerals, whose quarters were on the Heterodyne flagship. Out of all the Jägerkin, they were still suspicious of Mara's kinship to Agatha, but also knew of the strategic importance of keeping the Heterodyne war machine unimpeded. As long as she stuck to her "Techmistress" role and nothing else, they would abide this "Prinzess." Mara did not know these details but had sensed their mistrust of her. She, too, was interested in keeping things well-oiled and tried not to irritate them. This was a wise course of action, regardless.
Agatha managed to drag Mara kicking and screaming into a karaoke duet with her. It served multiple purposes: it was fun, it might get her cousin to loosen up a little, and she could see if dual heterodyning would occur. For her part, Mara did try, but still only hit an ordinary note - and off-key, at that. Agatha tried a few more times during their song, demonstrating it and coaxing her along, but it only served to send Mara into the Madness from hearing it. After the song ended, Agatha had to stop Mara from trying to "improve" the karaoke machine into who-knew-what.
The party settled into a steady hum of happy chatter, raucous laughter, the occasional belching contest, music, and good-natured roughhousing. No weapons were allowed in the mess hall, though before convening here, some Jäger, such as the Boyz, insisted on showing off the capabilities of the weapons made of Guildern steel. Anything that needed to be cut, was cut easily. They were pleased, and so was Agatha.
Mara joined in on some conversation, but also quietly observed the pack. Considering the purpose of the Jägerkin and their particular skills, it was difficult for her to reconcile their general gregariousness and joviality. She knew it was inaccurate to think of them as "evil." Having lived and worked with soldiers, mercenaries, and all-around killers in her past, she knew that a certain gallows humor was commonly adopted. But for a normal human it was a coping mechanism for the horrors of death and war. For the Jäger... she didn't know what to make of it. Not yet.
The Boyz always lingered near Agatha. Piotr and Axel, near Mara. Upon her arrival, the two tracked her down quickly and greeted her as warmly as any Jäger could. It surprised her then to see some truth to Agatha's comment; their morale really did seem to improve at the Heterodyne Girls' presence. Piotr informed her quietly that other Jäger were showing him and Axel respect, now that they were assigned directly to a Heterodyne. The Boyz still trumped them in fame. That was a given. When Piotr asked if she'd heard from their compatriots back in Guildern, she confessed not to have, but an idea came to her. She turned on her talkbox and was prepared to apologize to Kelvin for waking him, but it was now morning for him. The fleet had been adjusting its clocks to account for the shifts in their daylight hours. After a difficult conversation due to the noise in the room, he understood to summon Augustus and Dietrich. Five minutes later, they had arrived. Mara gave Piotr and Axel simple instructions in using the talkbox and sent them to a quiet(ish) part of the room to virtually reunite with their "blood brodders." Agatha witnessed what she'd done, and just smiled and nodded at her.
************
It was time. The fleet was within spitting distance of the northwest border of Dinnunder. All crewmembers from top to bottom were on alert. Flight teams were prepped and ready. Franz was part of the Heterodyne flyers. He had all but mastered his new harness and was an honorary member of the Guildern Guardians now. Seamus, captain of the Guardians, had made the mistake -once - of referring to Franz as the "team pet." Quick action on the Girls' part prevented him from being roasted on the spot.
The original shield technology scavenged from the wreckage of Bangladesh Dupree's ship had been reverse-engineered and then improved upon. Ships could run while cloaked, but unprotected by the vibrational shields. Or ships could be visible but shielded, and the shields themselves could be used offensively, via temporary extensions of the destructive energy they employed. And of course, ships could run full throttle: cloaked, and shielded for offense and defense. Per Tarvek's plan a small portion of the fleet would arrive uncloaked in an attempt to give false readings of their numbers. They were fully aware that, as the originators of the technology, the Dinnundrians likely had the means to detect cloaked ships, but there was naught for that hypothesis now but to field-test it.
Anyone who was anyone had gathered in the Sturmvoraus flagship's bridge to observe the landscape. From fifteen kilometers up they searched for any signs of human habitation. Even clank or construct habitation would be accepted. From their vantage point the continent appeared to be much larger than they had anticipated, but according to all of their data about it, they were in the correct position. This was Dinnunder, land of... a lot of scrub and desert.
For the first hours after arrival, the fleet could find no sign of civilization. They moved - slowly - along the northern coast. History had proven that proximity to water was conducive to human settlements. Except here. Wherever they looked: more scrub, desert, the occasional patches of forest, very little in the way of inland waterways. Some lakes and ponds would have been nice. A debate raged whether to drop altitude. The Techmasters were tasked with modifying shipboard sensors for increased sensitivity, range, and power. Within an hour the menfolk fulfilled the first requirement; Mara, respresenting the womenfolk, provided the latter two.
With that accomplished, a scout airship's sensors were updated, and the ship was sent below and ahead of the fleet for closer inspection. It was cloaked, fully shielded, and operated by clanks. The images sent back were monitored closely by multiple sets of eyes. There was life, to be sure. Flora and fauna, though none of the fauna appeared to be sentient or controlled by an external intelligence. Bored crewmembers were especially amused by the "hoppers," as the animals had been dubbed. The Sparks argued over whether they were constructs or naturally occurring. After all, they resembled nothing natural back in New Europa. The appearance of large, ostrich-like birds... ahem, sparked separate debates about the migration of species.
After several hours, what appeared to be manmade structures were spotted in the distance. The ship was sent to investigate and...
Nothing. Just some natural formations. More hours went by. The ship was sent after any anomalies and came back empty. Those with little patience began to grumble about whether a mistake had been made. Assembling an entire fleet and puttering halfway around the world based on the barest of clues? The world knew that Sparks were crazy, but stupid, too?
One day later, grumbling and discontent. Two days later, accusations.
"I was right all along," said Gil. "Albia. Albia planned all of this to get us away from New Europa and leave only half of our forces behind! With the other half chasing the craziest of ideas yet, and it was your idea, Sturmvoraus!"
"Was my 'crazy idea' forced on anyone?" he said. "Hm? You had plenty of time to refute it! All of you did! And we decided together how much to take and how much to leave behind!"
"What did she do to you, Tarvek?" said Gil. "Wasped? Ohh, no, not with your brilliant, anti-wasp formula protecting you!"
"What are you-?" he said. "You're suggesting that I'm taking orders from England??"
Agatha had joined the shift of image analysts and had been trying to ignore their 'debate,' but realized she was obliged to at least try to separate the two. She talked a reluctant Zeetha into taking her place in the seat and stormed over, rolling up her sleeves. Professor Óriásifej joined the row on his master's side, outflanking Tarvek, whose own Techmaster had returned to the Sturmvoraus lab. Mrs. Mouseheart was likely in her "second quarters," as well.
"-back before this gets any more disastrous!"
"We check in daily with our people!" said Tarvek. "No one has reported any 'disasters!'"
"And you trust that implicitly?" said Gil. "We could be talking to revenants by now!"
"Boys..." said Agatha, hands on her hips and looking down her glasses at them, "This is not a good place for this!"
"What are we doing here?" was Gil's response. "What are we doing here??"
Agatha's failed attempt to defuse the situation was rapidly forgotten as she was sucked into the fray. It was impossible to determine on which side of the debate she fell; each Emperor got a taste of her verbal jabs. After five more minutes of vitriolic discussion, Gil decided to raise a fist to offer a physical jab, but was unable to follow through. He whirled around to see who would dare grip his arm in such a manner. Airman Higgs, implacable as always, maintained his hold on Gil's arm.
"Sorry, sir," he said. "Sirs. Ma'am." He pointed. Now the three could hear the clamor in the room. Zeetha was jumping up and down and pointing at her screen. Other crewmembers were making similar indications. Each ruler raced to a screen just in time to see what could only be a missile heading straight for the belly-mounted imager on the scout ship. It had always been cloaked and always shielded. The clank crew could be heard squawking for orders. A second later, a BOOM... and then silence. The screens went blank; transmission from the ship ended.
"Where was it when that happened??" bellowed Tarvek to anyone. A cacophony of minions trying to please their Emperor did not help stem the confusion. Gil barked his own orders to his crew; Agatha ran to Zeetha's station and tried in vain to reestablish communication. Or was it in vain? Suddenly all of the screens on the bridge snapped back on.
"Excellent!" said Agatha. "Everybody! We'll reverse the feed and-"
"G'DAY TO YOU ALL," said every audio system on board. Onscreen was their old friend, the unnamed emissary of Dinnunder's "Queen Matilda." At least this time his face was not distorted by deliberately skewed angles and stretched images. Agatha kept to herself that the emissary's appearance was... quite pleasing to her.
"HER MAJESTY QUEEN MATILDA IS DELIGHTED THAT YOU DECIDED TO COME," the deceptively congenial voice echoed throughout the ship. "WE UNDERSTAND THAT AN INVITATION WAS IMPLIED MORE THAN GIVEN, BUT IT'S GOOD TO STAY IN TOUCH WITH YOUR MATES, WOULDN'T YOU SAY? SO WITH THAT, JUST SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE SHOW. WELCOME TO AUSTRALIA, YER GALAHS!"
All screens and sound went blank and silent once more. Orders were given to switch on all imagers for the rest of the fleet. The scout ship had ventured much farther inland than the rest of the fleet, but there was no mistaking what the imagers now showed: more missiles coming their way. A lot more. And everyone had the proof they didn't want: the cloaks and shields would not stop them.
"BATTLESTATIONS!!"
Part five is here.