Chapter n Klaus von Klausheim heard a whistle coming from the other room, and had long enough to wonder who had put on the teakettle before the world exploded around him. He felt the concussion in his chest, but heard nothing, and a split second later, would never hear anything again as a sliver of exploding boiler scythed through his torso. * * * Heinrich von Klausheim, Klaus's son was awakened by the building shaking. He heard the explosion, although it had blended into a dream he'd been having, involving a deer telling him about the disposition of salts of potassium. He started upright, the bedclothes tangled about him. The rumbling continued for a surprisingly long time as he stumbled out of bed and searched blearily for his dressing robe. He finally located it, stuffed improbably into the footlocker by his bed, and tugged it on. He could hear the rest of the house awakening, urgent voices calling to each other. By the time he had his slippers on and got a candle lit, he was among the last to arrive at his father's workshop. The room was an absolutely shambles. There were small fires burning in several locations, but the servants seemed to have them under control, along with Klaus's fire suppression systems, which were still partially working. Heinrich looked mutely at the destruction. The big boiler had obviously exploded. It normally dominated the large room, and seemed to have simply vanished. His father's experiments and devices were scattered as if a giant infant had thrown a temper tantrum with them. Gerta, a chambermaid, cried out, stood up quickly from where she'd been kneeling, and promptly fainted away. Heinrich rushed over, accompanied by Helmholz, the cook, and Heinrich's brother Christian. Helmholz tended to Gerta, and Christian arrived just before Heinrich to find their father's body under an overturned table. There was a wide pool of blood visible as they pulled the table away. Klaus was dead. "Oh no!" cried Christian before he suddenly turned green in the face, and vomited. Heinrich put his arms around Christian's shoulder, and awkwardly tried to comfort him. "Easy," said Heinrich. He glanced at their father's body, which was apparently undamaged, except for the foot-wide gash in his abdomen. By now, the rest of the household had gathered around, and were standing solemnly at the sight of their dead patriarch and master. Heinrich was struck by the realization that he was now the master of Klausheim. What does the master do? He'd lived with his father for 20 years, and never really understood what the man had done, if it hadn't involved the laboratory. He stood, leaving Christian huddled in his own world of misery. "That's..." he paused, uncertain for a moment, although his father's phraseology resonated in his head, and he read, as if from a script, "What are you standing around for? Get this place cleaned up." He didn't feel like he was the person who'd spoken the words. However, they had the right effect: everyone seemed to snap out of their moment of mourning, and found something to do. In a daze, Heinrich walked back and forth, giving instructions as grooms, boot boys, chambermaids and butlers scuttled about trying to right the mess in the room. Chapter n "I don't know," said a tremulous Christian, his pale hair slipping across his face again as he looked down at his plate. The dinner table was set as it always was, although their father's place was conspicuously empty. For all that he'd been able to take charge in the moments after the disaster, Heinrich was not a natural successor to his father's estate, and had retained his traditional seat at the side of the table. Christian continued, "He said he was working on a new safety release valve a month ago, you know that. But I don't know what he was doing last night. He could have had the new valve installed, or it could have still been the old one. You know how he loved to modify that boiler when he was stuck on something more complex." He poked listlessly at the asparagus on his plate. "All right," replied Heinrich, blowing an exasperated sigh. Despite their efforts last night, no one had found any clue what the senior von Klausheim had been working on, or what may have caused the boiler to blow. His notes, which Klaus had been meticulous about keeping, seemed to have disappeared in the explosion, although it's very likely that they were still down there, somewhere, in the mess that remained. Heinrich looked up at the portraits over the fireplace: his father, looking stoic and slightly disapproving, and their mother, who he thought of as being soft and loving, despite the stern expression on the portrait's face. Maria von Klausheim had died when Heinrich was 10, and Christian just 4, almost exactly 10 years ago. Heinrich still didn't know exactly how it had happened, and he supposed now he never would. "Well, if we don't know what he was working on, I guess that's that." Heinrich looked at his own asparagus, and realized that it had gone cold. He signaled Braun, the butler, who quietly swooped in and removed the offending vegetables. The next course arrived in front of him without Heinrich having been aware of time passing. He longed to speak with Christian about his doubts regarding the estate, but didn't know where to start, and in any case, it seemed improper. His father, for all his brilliance, had set great store by propriety, sometimes to the exclusion of sensibility. Heinrich would have given a great deal to have an hour with his father now, to sort out a few of the things he'd never been clear on. Heinrich pushed away the rapidly cooling plate of river trout and stood abruptly. Christian, startled, looked up. "What's wrong, brother?" The candles in their elaborate holders trembled slightly. Without answering, Heinrich turned to the butler, and said, "Bring me the key to my father's desk, Braun." Christian hesitantly stood as well, then realized that there was no one to scold him if he continued eating, so he sat again. He found himself more interested in avoiding his strong-willed brother's attention, and focusing on the fish seemed like a fine expediency to acomplish that goal. * * * Heinrich waited impatiently in his father's study. Braun arrived a moment later, flushed from hurrying, and stood at respectful attention before saying, "I cannot find the key, sir." "What? Did you check the usual places? Could he have had it on him when... last night?" Heinrich found that frustration was overpowering his normal ability to solve dilemmas. "Yes sir. I apologize sir, that's why it took me so long to return, sir." "I see. Thank you Braun." Heinrich looked in puzzlement at the locked desk. The butler faded away, and when Heinrich looked up again, he was alone. He crouched down in front of the desk, to examine the lock. "Ah!" he said, grabbing a candle and lighting it. He held the flame in front of the lock, staring for a moment, before he stood again and strode purposefully out of the room. Five minutes later, he returned with a collection of wicked-looking spikes and tools grasped in his hand. Christian had, by this time, finished his dinner, and found his curiosity overwhelming his desire to stay out of the way. He wandered into the study to find Heinrich kneeling in front of the desk. "Heinrich? What are you doing? Couldn't they find the key?" Christian ducked his head uncertainly around the desk, to see what his brother was doing. "No, father must have hidden it. We're fortunate that he didn't apply his skills to his desk lock." There was a click from inside the desk as Heinrich finished this sentence, and he grinned up at his brother. Heinrich grabbed the top and lifted it up. That is, he tried to lift it, but it was stuck fast. "Damn!" His father never would have suffered a sticky desk; it must still be locked, he thought. "Brother, have you..." offered Christian. "Not now! I'm thinking." Heinrich stared intently at the lock. "Hold this candle up, will you?" Heinrich shoved the candle in Christian's direction. "Hold it just there, so I can see in. Thank you." "But, did you..." "Please, Christian, not now. He must have modified the lock internally, it looks quite normal from the outside. I wonder if he changed the wafer system, or added on to it..." Heinrich trailed off, lost in thought. "But..." Christian stopped speaking at a look from his brother. "I'm sorry, brother. What are you trying to say?" Heinrich leaned back and tried to relax the tension in his shoulders. "I believe father installed an interlock on this lock. I've seen him move something down there," Christian pointed to the right-hand stack of drawers, just out of his reach, "before using the key." "Of course! I had forgotten." Heinrich carefully probed and prodded among the drawer handles and trim pieces until he found a handle which twisted slightly out of alignment. There was another click and a sproing noise from inside the desk. When he released the handle, the click happened again. "Drat," said Heinrich to himself, then, "Ah, brother, switch sides with me, and hold this handle down like this." After five more minutes of tedious lock picking, the desk was open. Heinrich carefully pawed through the cubbyholes and the neat files arranged in the drawers. "What are you looking for?" "I'm not sure. I had a thought that father might have left some clue here as to what he was working on, or correspondence, or even a will. I don't know." "But surely Herr Ohlmann the lawyer has his will, yes?" "Of course. Still, there may be other things here." Heinrich continued in his search, and after a few minutes had a small pile of likely-looking letters, notes and trade bills. He split the pile in two, and handed one half to Christian, who took them only reluctantly. "What are we looking for?" "I don't know, as I said. Anything you think might be related to what he's been working on. I wish he wasn't so quiet about his work." Heinrich was already searching through his stack, reading through the hasty scrawl of a letter. He muttered under his breath as he set the letter aside and started on another. After a minute or two of reading, Christian looked up at his brother. "Who is Baroness de Roseville?" Heinrich, barely hearing, said, "I don't know, probably some society lady." "I don't think so," said Christian, growing more certain as he read further. "She writes here about a process for forming sheet metal using pressurized water." Heinrich looked up. "Really? Give that here." He read over the letter. "And calls him, 'My dear Klauschen.' Interesting. Father never mentioned her before. Anything else from her?" Christian leafed through the sheets in his hand, and pulled out another one, written in the same looping hand. Heinrich accepted it, and read it over. "This one's about work she says they were doing on bottled lightning. But it's dated over a month ago. Hmm." He looked up at the ceiling, suddenly taking in anew the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves crammed with imposing volumes. He looked back down at the first letter, and saw that it was dated more recently, just a week and a half ago. "It says this was written in Reigenstadt. She only lives an hour's ride away." Heinrich looked up again, lost in thought. "Was she collaborating with father, do you think?" asked Christian. "It seems that way," replied Heinrich. He stood, and walked slowly to the bellrope, which he gave a thoughtful tug. When Braun appeared, he said, "Braun, do you know a Baroness de Roseville?" "Only by name, sir. His lordship your father received letters from a Baroness de Roseville." "Only received?" "No, sir, he sent letters as well. His lordship never confided anything of the lady to me, sir." "I see. Thank you Braun." The butler turned and exited as Heinrich stared at a bookshelf. "Christian, do you know if father kept a Who's Who?" "A what?" He looked up from the papers, which he'd still been looking over. "A Who's Who. Don't you know what that is?" "Um, no. I've never heard that before. What is it?" "A sort of list of notable people in the country. Father would be in it. You and I might be in it. Rainer's family has one. Help me look," said Heinrich, going to the bookshelf, and scanning over titles. Christian got up, however his gaze went to the bellpull. He tugged on it, and waited while Heinrich continued poring over titles. When Braun stood attentively at the door, Christian said, "Do we have a... What was it, Heinrich?" "Hmm?" Heinrich turned around. "Oh, Braun. A Who's Who. Do we have one?" "No, sir, not that I know of. Your father didn't believe in such petty gossip, sir." "Oh? I guess you're right." Heinrich turned away from the bookshelf, and came back to the desk. "Thank you Braun. Oh, Braun." The butler turned back. "Could you see what you can discover about Baroness de Roseville?" "Yes sir," said the butler, bowing himself out of the room. Heinrich pulled one of the overstuffed chairs towards the fire and sat down with his stack of papers to continue reading. Chapter n The carriage rolled over the bumpy road into Reigenstadt. It was an hour's journey by carriage, although this particular carriage was more comfortable than most, owing to a complex-looking assemblage of levers and swinging weights which connected the wheels to the body. They served to transform the road's imperfections from jarring impacts to a gentle rolling motion, not unlike a ship at sea. Klaus von Klausheim had invented the system after a ride in one of the new carriages equipped with the spring-based suspension system had left him unimpressed. Inside the carriage, Christian was trying with some success to read, while Heinrich stared moodily out the window at the passing countryside. Every few minutes, Christian would look up from his book to quell the feelings of motion sickness. Braun also sat in the carriage, stiff and formal in his travelling cloak. Heinrich's hand strayed over and over to the pocketwatch in his vest pocket. He would fidget nervously with it, then realize he was doing it, and drop his hands to his lap, only to start the cycle over a minute later. Outside the carriage window, the ground was covered in a layer of old snow, which looked unnaturally bright under the overcast sky. The weather had been grey of late, although no more snow had fallen since the storm several weeks ago. They were travelling along the valley road, and farmsteads stretched out to the sudden rising walls of the valley nearly a mile... no, one and a half kilometers, thought Heinrich, trying to keep his mind in the practice of using the new but much more logical /systeme metrique/. The flat floor of the valley gave way to the sheer walls of the Kurbenwald mountains, which rose thousands of meters high to imposing peaks. The valley ran approximately north-south, with the combined features of a glacial path and a floodplain. The swift Kurben river traced its serpentine path across the valley floor, and the road they travelled ran roughly parallel to its route. Soon, the rough bumps of the market road gave way to the sharper sound of the wheels rolling over cobbles. The driver reigned in the horses to a walk, and they slowly rolled into Reigenstadt. Heinrich hadn't received much intelligence from Braun regarding the Baroness de Roseville, except that she was a correspondent of their late father. No one in the household knew anything about her, and a servant dispatched to the town had come back with little more than the address of her townhouse. It was located on a fashionable street facing the market square, across from the Rathaus. He had decided that the most useful course of action to take was to try visiting the Baroness himself. He couldn't continue with his work in the lab, as his area had been half-destroyed in the boiler explosion. He had a carpenter from town working on the repairs, but it didn't look like it would be done for a few days yet. Christian had asked to come along, because the poor boy was in desperate need of distraction, and the von Klausheim manor didn't offer much, once you excluded lab work or hunting. Christian was no hunter, and only rode horses when compelled to. He greatly preferred his books to rifles or experimentation, making him something of a rebel from the normal von Klausheim family pursuits. The elder von Klausheim had privately worried that his younger son might go on to become a poet or painter or some other form of comparatively worthless artist. At least he didn't look to be interested in singing or acting. Ostmarktstrasse was soon clattering under the horses' hooves, and within a minute the driver had pulled them up to a stop. The carriage stood in front of a tall, narrow building. A small brass plaque next to the door proclaimed it to be the de Roseville residence, in a tasteful looping cursive script. Heinrich stood in front of the door, and tugged on the doorbell handle. Braun hovered behind the two young men. After a moment, the door was opened, and a well-dressed butler looked down his nose at them. "May I help you?" he asked, taking in the fine dress of Heinrich and Christian, the attending butler, and the well-maintained if slightly odd-looking carriage behind them. Heinrich handed the man a small white card. "Heinrich von Klausheim, to see the Baroness de Roseville. Please present my compliments." "Very good, sir," said the butler. He opened the door wider, and motioned them inside. The three men walked into the hallway, which was decorated in a manner just short of being ostentatious. The door closed, and the butler walked serenely down the hallway, to mount the stairs at the far end. Heinrich's eye took in the heavy rose motif first. The wallpaper was covered with carefully detailed rose blossoms on a muted pink background. The gas lamps lining the hall were detailed with floral patterns etched into their brass bodies. The carpet which ran down the center of the hall was a darker shade of red, but still contained a hint of the dusky pink on the walls, and, yes, seemed upon close inspection to detail hundreds of tiny rose blooms every yard. Braun made the subtle throat-clearing noise which he used to indicate that he desired his master's attention. Heinrich looked back at the man, who was silently indicating a baroque, gold-leafed chair. Heinrich shook his head, indicating he'd rather stand. Christian, however, took advantage of the seat, and continued reading his book now that the world wasn't rocking. "Tea, sir? Coffee?" A maid approached the men with a silver tray covered in cups and carafes. "Yes, thank you," said Heinrich. "Coffee, please." The maid skillfully poured a cup full of coffee, placed it on a saucer, and handed it carefully to Heinrich. "Sir?" she said, directing her attention at Christian. "Oh, no, thank you," he said, returning quickly to his book. The maid's eye lingered on his face for a moment too long before she turned her attention to Braun. For all that he was only 14, Christian was an attractive and well-formed youth. "Sir?" she asked of Braun. He shook his head no, silently. After several minute, the butler returned. "Her ladyship will see you now. Please follow me." He turned and walked toward the stairs again. Baroness de Roseville was seated by the fire in an ornate sitting room. She smiled broadly, and, Heinrich thought, somewhat falsely as they entered. "Herr von Klausheim, it is a pleasure to meet you. To what do I owe the honor of your visit? And this is?" Heinrich bowed, and took the Baroness's outstretched hand, giving it a chaste kiss. "Madame, /enchante/. Allow me to introduce my brother, Christian von Klausheim." Christian made an attempt to mimic his brother's gallantry, and was almost successful. "We have come, madame, with bad news. Our father, as you may know, was Klaus von Klausheim." The Baroness's face went slack as she heard the past tense. "Indeed, madame, he died two days ago. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news." The Baroness sat suddenly, her face unreadable. The fire crackled beside her, although no one in the room would have ventured the opinion that it was cheery. "How... How did it happen?" The Baroness looked up from the fire. "There was an explosion. It seems the boiler overpressured, and the explosion killed him. We were actually hoping you might be able to help us." "Me? What can I do?" "You were in correspondence with our father, yes?" "Yes. We were engaged in an exchange of ideas. We met at a ball last year, and I was enthralled with your father's walking stick." She referred to Klaus's trick walking stick, which pulled open to reveal a tiny, oil-burning bullseye lantern. It was automatically lit when the handle was slid up, and extinguished when the handle was pushed back down. "Exactly, madame. I was hoping you might know what he was most recently working on. He hadn't mentioned anything new to us, and his notes were destroyed or mislaid in the explosion. We have been unable to find them, so the difference is academic at the moment. I believe that if we can discover what he was working on, we may be able to piece together the events that lead to his death." The Baroness had stared at the fire as Heinrich was speaking, and looked up when he finished. "I'm afraid, my dear sir, that I don't know what your father was working on. We had conversed on my experiments with bottled lightning, but I don't think he was working on that himself. If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I would like to be alone now. This news has affected me rather more strongly than I would have preferred." "Of course, madame," said Heinrich, turning to collect Christian, who'd been hovering uncertainly behind his brother. "Again," he said, turning back to the woman by the fire, "I am sorry to have brought you such unwelcome news." He bowed himself out of the room, and Christian shut the door behind them. de Roseville's butler was standing stiffly in the hallway outside the door, and Heinrich barely spared him a glance as he walked quickly to the stairs and descended. Back in the carriage, Heinrich's face was contorted with something approaching rage. "What is it, brother?" asked Christian, uncertain what in the last half hour could have produced such a reaction. "She's lying. She does know what father was working on. I would be very surprised if they weren't much closer than she suggested." "Why would she lie?" "Any number of reasons." Heinrich lapsed into silence, again staring moodily out the carriage window. The town passed by, with its black-and-white buildings and cobbled streets, then the wall, and snow-covered farmsteads with their slumping, huddling cottages, as they drove back to the von Klausheim manor. Chapter n Hans Niedrigstein, the carpenter, was putting the finishing touches on the new workbench when Heinrich blew in like a tempest. "What? Why isn't this finished yet!? Where is the stonemason? What have you been doing all day, contemplating the nature of lumber!?" Hans, who had been a carpenter for more than 40 years, was torn between standing up for himself, and ingratiating himself to the new lord of the manor. He settled for calm competence. "Begging your pardon sir, but quality work takes time. If you'd like it to be done poorly, I can be finished quickly, or if you'd like it done correctly, it will be a while longer." Jurgen, Hans's apprentice, looked on with a mixture of amusement and apprehension. He'd developed an appreciation for his master's independence, but lived in more or less constant fear of fleeing his workplace at the wrong end of a whip. Heinrich stood eyeing the carpenter fiercely for a moment before he gave in to the older man's quiet confidence. "Fine! Get it done as quickly as you can. Where's the damned stonemason?" "I haven't seen him yet, sir." "Get back to work." Heinrich threw up his hands in frustration, and spun around, as if he might catch sight of the errant worker amid the mess still cluttering the cavernous laboratory and workshop. He stormed back out, muttering under his breath. "Braun!" Heinrich called out rather than stay in one place with a bellpull. He was nervous and frustrated, and needed to be moving. The butler's head appeared out a door down the hallway, and without appearing to hurry, he was suddenly by Heinrich's side. "Yes sir?" "Have you found my father's notes yet? And where's the /verdammt/ stonemason?" "Not yet, sir. The stonemason sent word that the granite wouldn't be ready today, and that he would call tomorrow." "Dammit Braun, I need somewhere to work. I don't see how my father kept from going mad, trying to run this place. I can't keep half the details straight in my head, and I've entirely lost the progress I was making on that series of bean hybrids, even discounting the destruction of the last generation in that explosion." Heinrich ran his hands nervously through his dark hair, leaving it puffed out like the feathers of a tropical bird. "I will have a hot bath drawn for you, sir, and the latest copy of the /Norddeutscher Wissenschaftler/ has arrived. Perhaps reading of others' progress will help calm your nerves. It often helped your father." Heinrich seemed to deflate, then stood back up. "Yes," he said, "perhaps that would be best. I need to occupy my mind, but the needs of the manor only serve to clutter it. Perhaps the /Wissenschaftler/ will help." Chapter n Christian sat in his little study, which was like his father's study, writ small. It was originally the study room of both boys, where they'd worked with their tutors, but Heinrich hadn't been in there for years, and Christian's bouts with formal education were less frequent now. So he'd taken it over, and quietly replaced some of the more boring history and mathematics books with books of poetry, plays, novels, and his own commonplace books, which were filled with all manner of his own writing. He sat now, at one of the desks, trying to compose a verse. It wasn't going very well. He couldn't find a suitable rhyme for "Rose," and all that would come to his imagination was "Prose" or "Morose," neither of which seemed right. The maid at the townhouse of Baroness de Roseville had caught his eye, and he found himself unable to think of anything else. He had a secret, guilty thought that he was glad his father was dead, because he wasn't around to object. Christian's relationship with the rest of his family was troublesome. He never knew his mother, although it seemed clear that he wouldn't have gotten along with her very well either. His father's worldview was so practical and empirical that it bore practically no relation to his own. His brother followed closely enough in his father's footsteps as to be the same person, in Christian's eyes. Of course he was younger, and didn't seem so set in his ways, but the death of their father seemed to have pushed him suddenly closer to being a younger Klaus, and less his own person. Christian sat back, and tried to think of his mother. Maria von Klausheim had been little more than a distant memory to him for a long time. He was much closer to their nanny, Gertrude, than he had been to their mother when she was alive. He knew from stories told by his father and brother that his mother was a brilliant scientist, and was at least as clever as his father, although the world recognized the work of both of them as belonging only to him. Society wasn't ready for a brilliant woman, his father had often said. Christian found his memories jumbled, and unclear. He could of course remember his mother's face from the portrait over the fireplace in the dining room, and from a number of other portraits scattered about the manor house, but he could no longer be sure he remembered her face as his eyes had seen it. That was a problem with memories, he mused, they're so ephemeral you can't be sure what's real. He had a dream which occurred often, in which his mother (who looked nothing like the portraits, but he knew it was her) sat by a fire, talking in quiet, mournful tones about something, but he could never make out what it was. She held a device of some variety in her hands, and turned it over slowly as she talked. It glinted in the firelight, and in the dream, he knew it was a very dangerous thing, but he couldn't tell why. The dream always faded out before anything else happened, although he knew there was something else which needed to transpire. He sighed, and looked down at his notebook again. Rose. Nose? It'd have to work. He tried to compose around the troublesome rhyme. Chapter n Undersecretary Ernst von Hompesch, of the Royal Ministry of Natural Philosophy sat uncomfortably in his carriage. The road to the von Klausheim manor was bumpy, and he was unhappy that he had to endure these trials. His job was supposed to be comfortable: sitting at a desk, next to a warm fire, dealing with paper. He could get along with paper. It was clean, and neat, and didn't interrupt. He didn't make the mistake of conflating the people bearing the paper with the paper itself. He was dressed as befitted his position, in a tight waistcoat with a very slightly frilled shirt underneath it. His trousers were tastefully tapered, and held up with garish suspenders, which were thankfully hidden by the waistcoat. His coat was a season or two out of fashion, and he kept meaning to have a new one made, but somehow, something more important was always pressing upon his time. His travelling cloak was of the standard big-and-black variety which had been a staple of Bergenish custom for hundreds of years. The carriage in which von Hompesch rode bore the crest of His Royal Majesty, Wilhelm III. The Royal Ministry of Natural Philosophy was one of a handful of "odd" ministries instituted by Wilhelm III, in addition to the more traditional military and social ministries. Wilhelm was a great believer in science. von Hompesch was of course grateful for the position, to which he had been appointed, but he still found occasion to shake his head in wonder at their new monarch. Wilhelm III had ascended to the throne of Bergen a scant few years ago. In many respects, he was a king like any other -- of royal blood, somewhat eccentric in his ways, born into the job. However, his eccentricities ran in odd directions. The normal royal fascination with young women (or men), gambling and warmaking seemed to have been diverted into a love of science and engineering, and a distinct dislike of war. Of course, thought von Hompesch, who am I to complain? Bergen had been at peace since Wilhelm III ascended, and his oddness seemed to resonate with the will of many of his subjects. In particular, the scientific community of Bergen had flourished, and countries which had once been at war with the mountainous nation were now trading scientific papers and students. It wasn't all good, thought the disgruntled old man as the carriage hit a particularly egregious pothole. The roads clearly needed some work, and somehow his warm desk job had got him sent out on one of the coldest February mornings he could remember. His breath was congealing into bright fog as he exhaled, and that was with a tiny coal-burning heater running in the carriage's cabin. Finally, the von Klausheim manor came into view, and von Hompesch tried to compose himself. The sound of the wheels changed, and the ride grew suddenly smooth as they rolled onto the cobbles which fronted the manor's main entrance. von Hompesch stepped down from the carriage, his worthy belly quite visibly preceeding him. He huffed a little with the cold and the effort, and walked slowly up to the entrance. The Ministry hadn't had a servant to spare for this mission, so he pulled the bell rope himself, and impatiently waited. The door was opened by a chambermaid who dropped a quick curtsy before inviting him in. He handed her his calling card, and said, "I'm here to see Lord von Klausheim." "Of course, sir," she said, skittering off into the house. She seemed a bit off to him, but he couldn't place why. After a minute, a respectable-looking butler with grey hair appeared and walked up to where he was waiting. "Good morning, sir, my name's Braun. I fear I have bad news for you. The elder Lord von Klausheim was killed four days ago in a laboratory explosion. His son, now Lord von Klausheim, is awaiting your company, if you'll follow me." Braun led off and von Hompesch followed, his mind struggling to encompass the intelligence he'd just received. von Hompesch was escorted into a spacious study, where he saw a surprisingly young man sitting at the desk. A fire roared in the fireplace, although the room was still cool. The young man stood up and came around the desk to shake hands with the government representative. "Undersecretary von Hompesch, I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Heinrich von Klausheim. As I believe Braun told you at the door, my father, Klaus von Klausheim, was killed several days ago. I... have assumed his duties. What can I do for you?" von Hompesch stood for a moment, marshalling his thoughts. Finally he said, "Would you mind if I sit?" "Oh, I'm sorry, not at all. Please." They both sat in the high-backed chairs facing the fire. "Lord... von Klausheim." von Hompesch seemed to be struggling to come up with adequate phrasing. "I am a representative of His Majesty's Royal Ministry of Natural Philosophy." "So I gathered," said Heinrich. "I... Well, we, that is, were working with your father. I am here because an expected communication was not received from him. Did he leave behind any notes? I am, of course, sorry for your loss." He added the last as a kind of afterthought, still trying to sort through what this change would mean. "Ah, no. Not that we can find. The explosion was quite destructive. We've been searching, but haven't had any luck so far. Do you... do you know what my father was working on?" "No, I'm afraid I don't. That's what our correspondence was to be about. He had what he described as a fantastic new idea, but his first letter revealed little beyond that he felt he needed to prove the concept could work before he wanted to describe it in any detail. He didn't... mention anything to you?" Heinrich gave a little half-smile, and said, "No, it seems that my father didn't tell /anyone/ anything about his idea, although he seems to have paid dearly for it." "Oh. Oh my. Well, then, I guess my business here is... concluded." The fat man struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on the arm of the chair and his walking stick. Heinrich stood as well. "I see. Well, thank you for your visit, Undersecretary. I wish I could have been of more assistance to you." von Hompesch raised his head, and said, "Is the laboratory where he worked safe? May I see it?" "I believe so, but let's find out," said Heinrich, tugging at the bell rope. "Ah, Braun," he said, when the butler appeared, "can you tell me, is the laboratory safe for Undersecretary von Hompesch and I to visit?" "Yes, sir. I'll ask the workmen to stop while you inspect." "Very good. Undersecretary, if you'll come this way?" When they entered the lab, it was clearly half-way between being reconstructed and still being a disaster area, demarcated along a clear line where construction tools and supplies were on one side, and debris and destruction were on the other. "Oh, I see," said von Hompesch, his eyes roving over the mess. He walked slowly forward to the line where construction ended, and destruction began, and started prodding things with his stick. "Have you any idea on which subject he was concentrating before the accident?" von Hompesch looked back at Heinrich, who was staring forward without apparently seeing anything. The young man snapped out of his reverie, and said, "Well, judging from the equipment I saw out when I was working in here the night before the explosion, I would have guessed he was working with tamed lightning. However, that doesn't explain why the boiler should have exploded. I've been over it more times than I can count, and the whole thing remains something of a mystery to me." "What was he doing with tamed lightning?" "I don't know, I just saw that he had his wires and chemical flasks out, and I believe I saw some lead." "Hmm," said the Undersecretary, looking down at the mess. "It's amazing how little survives, isn't it," he said, musingly. He realized a second too late what he'd said, and turned to see Heinrich with a blank expression on his quickly reddening face. "I am sorry, that was very rude of me. Please, I'll go now, you've been most accomodating in your time of grief." von Hompesch walked back towards the main part of the house as quickly as he could, while Heinrich trailed behind him, trying to marshall his temper. By the time they reached the entrance hall, Heinrich was back under control, and was able to cordially part ways with von Hompesch. The royal carriage clattered slowly away, the pair of horses tugging lightly at the traces. Christian appeared by Heinrich's side, and said, "Who was that?" "A government minister of some sort." Heinrich silently handed over the calling card, which he'd earlier slipped into his waistcoat pocket. "Apparently, father had contacted him about whatever he was working on." "Oh! Did he know what father was working on?" "No." Heinrich's face was set, and Christian recognized that his brother was struggling with something. "What are you thinking, brother?" "I think that Herr von Hompesch, like Madame de Roseville, knows more than he's letting on." Chapter n Heinrich sat himself down on the lab stool with barely-contained glee. His workbench had been restored to something like its original state. The workers had managed to find enough of his tools and equipment that he was able to start his work again. He'd been deprived of his primary pursuit for six long days, and was starting to think he'd go mad, with only the persistent frustrations of the manor to occupy him. It was, thus, with understandable frustration that Heinrich received Braun's interruption. "What!? What do you want?" He cooled down a moment after his outburst, and continued, "What is it, Braun. I apologize for raising my voice." "Your aunt and uncle have arrived from Felzenholz, sir." The butler remained impassive. He'd suffered far worse than a few shouted words. "My... I have relatives in Felzenholz?" Heinrich went from angry to bewildered very quickly. "Yes, sir. Your uncle Herr Friedrich and your aunt Frau Gretchen Hintenschloss. Herr Hintenschloss is your mother's younger brother, sir." "Please see them in. Is the Kurben room ready for guests?" "It will be, sir, I've dispatched a maid to light a fire and do any cleaning necessary." "Thank you Braun. Tell them..." Heinrich looked longingly at his workbench, and sighed. "Tell them I'll be there in a few minutes." "Very good sir," said the butler, before fading into the background of Heinrich's thoughts. Heinrich sat down on the stool again, and reached out to touch a few things. His microscope. His wrenches. His scalpels and foreceps. He ran his fingers along the cover of his notebook, which was charred and rumpled, but basically complete. Why couldn't his father's notes have been as well preserved? With a weighty sigh, he got up to greet his relatives. Chapter n Herr and Frau Hintenschloss were not exactly what Heinrich had been expecting. For one thing, their mode of dress was extremely strange, closer to that of wandering gypsies than clothing befitting members of a prestigious and upright family. This caused him to wonder, if perhaps they no longer /were/ members of a prestigious and upright family. However, he didn't have time to pursue the thought before his uncle was leaning in with a bit of a leer on his face. "Heinrich, good ta meetcha! You probably don't remember me, I last saw you when you were about this high!" He held his beringed hand three feet off the ground. "And this is my wife, your aunt, Gretchen." "How do you do," said Gretchen, leaning forward and shaking his hand like a merchant, rather than offering her hand like a lady. Heinrich found himself at a loss how to proceed with the interaction. The rules of polite society he'd grown up with seemed to him to wither on the vine in this situation. "Ah. I'm delighted to meet you, of course. Can you remind me... how are we related, exactly? I apologize, but this is practically the first I've heard of you." Friedrich Hintenschloss laughed in a boisterous manner which quite surprised young Heinrich. He didn't have a large belly, but if he did, it would be jiggling with Friedrich's mirth. "It's no surprise, I guess. My sister, your mother, was none too pleased with us. I'm kind of surprised we got to meet you at all, way back when. Must have been 15 years ago. We're what you might call rogues." Heinrich's face must have betrayed his strong negative reaction to the word, because Friedrich laughed again, throwing his head back. "Look at you! So proper," he calmed down, but his eyes were still twinkling. "Not rogues like lawless thieves, but rogues like social rebels. We didn't want anything to do with the hoity-toity world of Maria and her society friends. Your grandfather, rest his soul, wasn't very pleased either, and wrote me out of his will." As Friedrich spoke, Gretchen smiled in an odd way behind him. "Deprived of my inheritance (don't worry, I'm not here about that)," he added with a conspiratorial wink, "we had to live within our means. I got my dad's brains, and established myself as a repairman of no mean repute. If it's mechanical, I can fix it." "Which leads us to me," said Gretchen, who had hitherto been silent. She seemed to share her husband's inbuilt mirth, and her eyes twinkled as she spoke. "I met Friedrich in Felzenholz shortly after he was disowned. He didn't tell me about that part until later, of course, but we fell in love and married a year later. Of course," her face broke into a happy grin, "what I didn't tell him is that I'm a kind of repairman too." Heinrich, feeling buffeted by all this new information at once, tried to supply the cue she was obviously waiting for. "Um. What kind of a repair... man are you?" "I'm the magical kind," she declared proudly. Heinrich's estimation of her immediately dropped to near zero. "Madame," he started. "Oh no, it's real. That's the first thing I get every time. I'm not crazy, either. I can prove it if you like, although I hate having to prove things like I was some kind of combatant." Her look had gone from merely mirthful to positively exultant. "Pose me a problem that you can't solve with science, young man." "How... Well, alright. What was my father working on before he died?" "Oh, that's a good one!" She made a great show of screwing up her face and putting her hands to her temples, casting about the room as if viewing it through her closed eyelids. Heinrich almost expected steam to rise from her head. "Well, you seem to think it had something to do with lightning, don't ye?" "What? Did you speak with Herr von Hompesch on his way out?" "No, it's right there in your brain, son. But reading thoughts isn't the same as solving problems. Obviously you'd not ask me if you had the answer locked up in your head, would you." She peered around the room, a sitting room off the dining room. "Do you have anything of his? Something he used a lot, and recently, for preference." Heinrich looked around the room, but there was nothing of his father's truly useful possessions there. He stood and pulled the bell cord. "Braun," he said upon the man's arrival, "go and fetch father's pen from his writing desk." As the butler exited, Gretchen said, "Well, that'll do, although I'll mostly get what he's been writing. Any chance he wrote it all down?" "Hopefully, although probably not with that pen. He would have used a pencil in the lab." "Oh, well then, let's go to the lab. Do you have the pencil?" Heinrich stood as his aunt and uncle did. "Well, possibly, the lab is still something of a mess. A pencil is likely to have gone unheeded in the cleanup." He led them down the hall to the far end of the building, and into the large door into the lab, still feeling bewildered. Friedrich and Gretchen Hinterschloss did a great deal of oohing and aahing as the door was swept open to reveal the large and busy space of the lab. Friedrich leaned over to Heinrich and said, "Quite a place here. What did he do, specifically, I mean?" "Well, he worked in a great deal of disciplines. Back there, you can see his forge and smelter. There was a complete chemical works, although he didn't do as much with chemistry. He dabbled in tamed lightning, and I think he may have been working on it again when the boiler exploded. Obviously he was working on ways to harness and improve steam power, including a new triple-piston design which he hoped would increase efficiency by as much as 50%. His botany experiments were largely spared, there in the solarium. The shelves where he kept his notes and files were utterly destroyed, since they were close to the boiler. He was working about here," said Heinrich, standing on a spot of debris that hadn't been searched and cleared yet. "So, his notes probably would have gone that way," said Gretchen, pointing towards the door they'd entered through. "Perhaps along with his pencil?" She winked at Heinrich and walked in the direction she'd pointed. "Yes, but that's already been cleared," said Heinrich, stating what he hoped was an obvious fact. "That doesn't matter," said Gretchen, walking forward into the cleared area and towards the wall. She closed her eyes again, although she was much less showy about it than before. "What'm I looking for?" Eyes still closed, she turned back to Heinrich. "A pencil. Or his notes, although I doubt they still exist in any coherent form." "Right," she said, turning back to her path, which would shortly be intersected by a wall. After perhaps three minutes of casting back and forth (and miraculously not bumping into anything), she opened her eyes and returned to Heinrich. "You sure it was a pencil?" "It is extremely unlikely my father would have been using any other implement to take his notes." He felt the scorn rising in his breast at this obvious display of charlatanism. "Only," she said, scampering to a corner, "there's this pen here." She bent over and extracted a pen from a pile of lumber which had been left there, out of the way. She held it up victoriously, and walked calmly back to Heinrich and Friedrich. Friedrich looked proudly at his wife, while Heinrich just looked. Snapping out of it, he held out his hand for the pen. Gretchen silently put it in his hand. It was indeed one of his father's fountain pens, although how it'd gotten into lab was something of a mystery to Heinrich -- his father almost always took notes with a pencil. "That is one of my father's pens," he conceded. "But thus far, that only proves that you have sharp eyes." "That it does, that it does," she said, coyly tapping the side of her nose. He retrieved the pen from him, and went into her show of concentration again, with the pen in one hand. "Oooh!" she exclaimed, and opened her eyes. "Get me a piece of paper!" Heinrich hurried over to his desk, where he opened his own notebook to a blank page and set it down in front of her. She sat on the proffered stool, and started writing, backwards, and from the bottom of the page. The pen skittered and complained at the ill treatment, flicking blobs of ink as she wrote. To Heinrich's amazement, what slowly appeared on the page, smudged and stained from the spitting pen, was his father's handwriting. The strange woman covered two pages with his spiky cursive and abbreviated sketches before she stopped, carefully handed the pen to Heinrich, and slumped backwards into Friedrich's waiting arms. "That really takes it out of her, does the magicking, like that. You're lucky she got two pages out." He glanced down at the smudged pages. "Can you make any of it out?" Heinrich had taken the two pages, and held them up to the lamp which was burning on the desk. "Some," he said eventually. "I wish she hadn't smudged so much. This," he pointed at one of the diagrams, "is a device -- I recognize his style, but I can't tell what it is. Half of the labels are smudged into illegibility. It says..." He squinted at the page. "Selector lever. That's not too helpful. This is... thermic input? Something input. That might be... Well, I have no idea what that is..." Heinrich had dropped his voice so that he was muttering to himself, having entirely forgotten his wonder at the method by which he had his father's notes in his hand. Chapter n Dinner that night was a strange affair. Heinrich found himself regaled with tale after tale of the Hinterschloss's adventures. They had travelled all over Bergen, sometimes working on commissioned jobs, sometimes for what seemed like their own pleasure, and sometimes for reasons which Heinrich simply couldn't fathom. Christian listened politely, but didn't seem anywhere near as impressed as Heinrich was. In fact, he found himself doubting the people claiming to be his aunt and uncle. After all, they'd only had Braun's word on the matter. What if the old butler was collaborating with these two to con the brothers out of money or power? It seemed likely, and almost perfectly matched the plot of a novel he had been reading before his father's death. "So," Heinrich said, after a hair-raising tale of a dragon raiding a village, which had turned out to be a reclusive and somewhat mad genius in some kind of massive ornithopter, "how did he operate the ornithopter? Surely the wings, if they're as big as you say, would be beyond the capacity of one man." "He had a tiny boiler on board, actually," said Friedrich, grinning broadly. Both of them seemed to be in perpetually high spirits. "That was also how he made the flames -- he'd distilled alcohol from wheat, and used that as a fuel, passed through the boiler's burner to pre-heat, and ignited just as it left the burner. A very clever design. Very lightweight, as you can imagine for such a flying machine. Of course, he also had hydrogen bladders throughout, so that the wings were really only used for propulsion, not so much for keeping up." "Yes, my father had done some experiments with inclined plane wings a few years ago, but decided that they didn't produce enough lift to be useful. I'd heard that a group in Hauptstadt was trying for a lighter-than-air craft which could lift several people with some kind of air-oars for propulsion. This must have been a similar idea." Heinrich's whole attention was focused on the discussion. He seemed to have completely forgotten, at least for the moment, about the cares of the manor, or his father's death. "Well, this Volkenstein character certainly got it to work. A right believable dragon it was, too." "Tell me, Frau Hintenschloss," started Heinrich. "Please, call me Gretchen. We don't stand on all that formality your father insisted on." "All right, ah, Gretchen. I was just thinking of your trick with the pen and the paper." Heinrich still thought it was some kind of illusionism, although Frau Hintenschloss contrived not to notice. "Is it possible that you could do the same thing with a pencil, so that the notes wouldn't be so spattered and smudged?" "Oh, bless you, no. What I did was to replay the pen sort of backwards through time. If you gave me a pencil, or even a different pen, I'd just play /it/ backward through time, writing whatever it had written. It had to be that pen. Too bad, though, that would be a neat trick indeed." "Oh. I wish I could tell better what the notes were about. It doesn't look like he was working exclusively with lightning power, but I can't tell what else he was doing." Heinrich looked at his uncle, and said, "Did you get a chance to look over the notes, Herr... I mean, Friedrich?" "A little. I couldn't tell quite what he was doing, although I thought I recognized a few alchemical symbols on the first page. Did you see that, Gretchen?" "Oh, no. I didn't get a chance to see those notes after I wrote them. Where are they?" Heinrich replied, "They're in father's study, we can look at them after dinner is finished." "I wonder," said Christian, out of nowhere, "how you came to arrive just now." His expression, although he tried to mask it, betrayed distrust and suspicion. "What do you mean, lad?" asked Friedrich. "Christian! Don't be rude, Herr and Frau Hintenschloss are our guests." Christian ignored his brother (a skill he was quite adept at, when he wanted to be), and said, "I mean, it's very convenient that you arrived just after father died. How did you come to be here? Felzenholz is more than a day's journey on horseback, and the train doesn't run between Reigenstadt and Felzenholz." "Well," and here Friedrich looked a little sheepish. "Gretchen?" She looked from her husband to the young man and back again. "We... I sensed it. I felt the explosion, and your father's death. Well, I felt his death, and it didn't take me long to see the explosion, too. I'm sorry, we should have said that earlier, but it's not the kind of thing most people are prepared to accept." "Then why did you come, whether you sensed this event or not?" Christian was in no mood to be deterred. Friedrich took up the answer this time. "We thought you might want our help. Disowned or not, we're the closest family you have now. You know that." "I know that I'd never heard of you before today. I know that the only person to vouch for you is Braun. I know that I don't trust you!" With that, he stood abruptly, his blond hair swinging in his eyes as he looked back and forth between the two strangers. He ran off just as abruptly, speedily exiting the dining room, deaf to Heinrich's calls for him to sit down and stop acting foolish. "I must apologize for my brother, I think the strain of our father's death is affecting him quite strongly." Heinrich looked back after his brother, then returned his attention to the table. "Oh no, we're not offended," said Friedrich. "In fact, this is exactly why we came. He'll understand later, I'm sure." Despite their preternaturally sunny disposition, the rest of the dinner was eating in subdued silence. Chapter n Gretchen's perusal of the notes she'd copied out did indeed reveal a few alchemical symbols, including those for lead, antimony, quicksilver, gold, and a few she didn't recognize right away. At the same time, Heinrich found himself trying to gather more meaning from the smudged notes, although without much success. "Why don't you try copying them down yourself, son?" asked Herr Hintenschloss. "What do you mean?" "I mean, try to copy them out onto another piece of paper. You might get some insight if you do that, if only from the patterns of the words as you write." Heinrich did as suggested, but found that his mind was working too literally, and couldn't make the creative leap necessary to bridge the gap where information ceased and chaos reigned on the page. Finally he threw up his hands in frustration. "I can't do this, it's not helping at all." He stood up from the desk, and Friedrich was quickly by his side, soothing him. "Don't worry, it was just a thought. There are many thoughts in the world, we'll find one that works." Heinrich stood, staring at the notes on the desk for a moment, before he finally said, "Please excuse me uncle, aunt, but I feel that I would be best served by spending some time alone." "No, that's fine," said Gretchen, stepping forward, away from the fire. We could probably do with time to ourselves, too." She seemed to think for a moment, then said, "Do you know what's happened to young Christian?" "No," said Heinrich, suddenly feeling a great weight of weariness press upon him. "I suppose he's sulking in his room still." The boy had not been seen since his outburst last night. Certainly the von Klausheim manor was large enough that a person could avoid meeting others if he so desired. "Well, we'll leave you to yourself. Will we see you at dinner, then?" Friedrich looked solicitously at Heinrich, who was still standing over the desk, his fingertips pressed down on its surface. "Yes, dinner." Heinrich came to himself, and looked up. "Yes, I'm sorry. I'll see you at dinner. Thank you." He slowly sat down again as the Hinterschlosses quietly departed the room. Chapter n In their room, which was more like a suite than a room, Friedrich and Gretchen sat down in front of the fire. "Poor boys," started Gretchen. "Now, now, they're very rich boys." Friedrich said this with a mischevious smile on his face. "You know what I mean, Liebchen." Gretchen seemed subdued. "Yes, I know what you mean. It must be a terrible thing to lose your father that way. As opposed to, say, being told you no longer have a father." Friedrich's eyes were twinkling somewhat less as he said this, the far-off pain of his disownment still affecting him. "Now, this has nothing to do with that, you said so yourself." "That's true, it doesn't have anything to do with that. Sorry for raising it, Schatzi." Gretchen looked thoughtful as she stared into the dancing flames. "I wonder what the old boy was working on when he died," she eventually said, in a musing kind of voice. "You couldn't find out?" Friedrich's smile was back. "Well, I suppose in a sense, but I couldn't tell you what he was actually doing. You saw the lab, his presence there must have been scattered to the four winds. Practically all I got from him at the time was that whistling, and then he went out as if a great wind had blown out his candle. I suppose in a way it did." "Well, you know your practice best, of course. I'd just have thought that with being here, where he lived, you could help the boys solve their dilemma." Gretchen looked up at Friedrich, with a speculative look on her face. "You know, Liebchen," she said, "I suppose there's one thing I haven't tried yet. We could see if his spirit is around to be summoned. We could hold a seance." "I thought you didn't believe in seances. You called them trendy claptrap only the other day." "Just because they're trendy doesn't mean they're useless. And they /are/ claptrap, when all you're doing is bobbling your knee up and down on the underside of the table and hiring a neighborhood lad to make 'woo-woo' noises on cue." Friedrich laughed out loud. "Of course, when you put it that way, I see what you mean." "The only problem is, you and I aren't enough. We'd need to get the boys in for it to work. And the spirits won't come if there's anyone involved who's working too hard against it." "You mean Heinrich." "Well, both of 'em, really. Heinrich doesn't think there is such a thing as magic, and Christian thinks we're shysters -- you don't have to read his mind to see that." She looked thoughtfully back at the fire. "I guess it's worth a try, but we'll have to get them ready for it." "Get your supplies in order, then, and we'll see what we can do." There was a long silence as both of them stared into the dancing flames. Chapter n After much wheedling and cajoling and exhortations to discover empirically whether she were talking absolute nonsense, Heinrich agreed to try the seance. Christian wouldn't commit an answer, after they finally roused him from his room. They agreed to do it after dinner, and after a few drinks, to loosen the imagination, as Gretchen said. Dinner passed in a relatively tense silence, and after the nuts went around Gretchen grabbed the brandy decanter from a surprised Braun and poured a healthy drink for each of them. They had just sat down in a circle around a table in the cardroom when Braun entered and coughed discreetly. "Yes, Braun, what is it?" "The Baroness de Roseville is here to see you, sir." He held out a small square of rose-colored paper on a small silver platter. "What, now?" Heinrich looked at the clock on the mantel, which had nearly reached 9 o'clock. It had been dark outside for hours and hours. To receive a visitor from Reigenstadt now indicated either extremely pressing business or extreme meanness of intellect on the part of the visitor. Heinrich somehow doubted the latter. "Very well, show her in." "Very good, sir." An enquiring look from Frau Hintenschloss was met with stony silence from Heinrich, who was still unhappy at what he considered to be the Baroness's reluctance to speak on the matter of his father. Gretchen looked at Christian, but the youth was staring sullenly at the table, as he had been since they'd sat down. The Baroness was shown in, and Heinrich stood to greet her, silently wondering to himself if he would have to play the happy host like this for the rest his life. "Baroness de Roseville, to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?" The Baroness looked uncertainly at Heinrich, and the three people still seated around the card table. "I'm sorry," she said after a pause, "I can see that I've interrupted. I'll... I'll go. I apologize." She didn't seem to Heinrich to be anywhere near as composed and self-confident as she had been back at her townhouse. "Nonsense. It's an hour's ride back to Reigenstadt, through the dark and cold. You must have some important business to have made the trip in the first place, and I insist that you spend the night here. Braun," said Heinrich, turning to the butler, who'd been hovering quietly in the background, "please prepare a room for the Baroness, who will be staying tonight." "Of course, sir." The butler faded through the door, and the five people were left alone in the room. "Now, Baroness," said Heinrich, somewhat amazed that he'd remained as cool as he had through this unexpected turn of events, "please, sit down and tell me why you've ventured all the way to our humble abode on this freezing night." The Baroness looked uncertainly at the Hinterschlosses, but didn't seem to be ready to speak. Breaking the silence, Gretchen said, "Why don't you join us?" Her face was plastered with a bright smile. "We're about to call up Klaus von Klausheim's spirit. Having another person at the table will make it that much easier." The Baroness's face registered surprise, and she looked back at Heinrich as being the most likely authority in the room. He looked at Gretchen in surprise as well, but quickly regained his composure. "Well, certainly, if you're interested, you're welcome to join us, Baroness. Or we can postpone this, if it's important that you speak to me now." Heinrich resisted the urge to look back to Friedrich for confirmation that this was acceptable. It was /his/ manor after all, and Friedrich was just a guest. Apparently making a decision, the Baroness stood again, and said, "Alright. I've heard of these spirit-raisings, and have always wanted to see one. Lord von Klausheim, our business can wait until later, or the morning. Thank you for your gracious offer." She held out her hand to Heinrich, who took it and guided her to a chair he retrieved from another table. She sat demurely, and with considerably more composure than she'd exhibited mere moments before, she said, "How do we begin?" Chapter n The lamps had all been extinguished, except one on their table, which was turned down low. The fire still burned, giving the Baroness a backlit halo, while Heinrich and Christian were side-lit by the flames. Herr and Frau Hinterschloss's faces were comparatively bright, where they weren't shadowed by the Baroness or the table's edge. "Clear your minds," said Gretchen. "Think of nothing but the words that I am saying. Focus your eyes on the flame of the lamp. Now, join hands." She closed her eyes, as her hands linked up with those of Friedrich and Heinrich. Around the table, everyone joined hands. "I have prepared a small offering of spirits for the spirit," she said, subtly inclining her head to indicate a shot-glass of brandy which sat in front of her on the table. Heinrich could have sworn that her face twitched into a smirk as she said those words, but it was immediately passive again, and he decided the light of the fire must have played a trick with his perception. "Clear your minds, and listen to my voice. It is vitally important that we believe. We must believe that the spirit of Klaus Antonio von Klausheim is here, in this room, with us, and that he will be willing to show himself. We must believe, and we must exercise our wills. Repeat after me." Frau Hinterschloss's voice took on a deep, resonant quality which surprised Heinrich. "Klaus Antonio Septavius von Klausheim, we conjure and abjure thee to appear, and speak! Klaus Antonio Septavius von Klausheim, we conjure and abjure thee to appear, and speak!" She repeated this several more times, with everyone joining in by the third repetition. Now pausing, she breathed deeply, and the others found them doing the same. "Listen carefully," she said, just loud enough for everyone around the table to hear. "He is close, but not yet here. One of you is not in the right frame of mind. If you want to bring his spirit, we must all be together. Believe. Join with me now, or leave the room." She glanced quickly around the table, then, apparently satisfied, continued. "Ia qual nom hurruneh! Nos forme toh nilah! Garreh han corroncal!" Her words came out sounding strange, clipped, with crisply-rolled Rs and long vowels. Heinrich had never heard anything like them before, and had no idea if they actually meant anything, or were just so much window dressing. That was about the point that reality went strange, and Heinrich's memories became jumbled and confused. The fire seemed to change color, and the sparks rising from the flames seemed suddenly much brighter and longer-lasting. There was an odd rushing noise, as of a blowing wind outside the window, but the night had been calm. And, strangest of all, Heinrich could have sworn he heard a voice speaking as from a great distance. "Garrah! Hom flende car nos korte, ass voleh ta na." Gretchen's face looked odd to him as well. It was... more lit up than it should have been. As if it were receiving light from more than the lamp on the table and the fire, even with its increased brightness. Then, Heinrich saw the... cloud, perhaps, of light. It was as if a very small, luminous cloud had gathered above the center of the table, lit from within. The distant words became clearer, although no more understandable. It now sounded like a man's voice speaking in the same strange dialect Frau Hintenschloss was using. "Kurra, hell nam voleh. Qunda lahn ya noleh?" There were several back and forth exchanges between the woman and the distant voice, all in this unusual language. Then, Heinrich saw the cloud start to fade from his sight, as if it were losing its light, and as it became less luminous it faded not merely into darkness, but into invisibility. He found himself standing, trying to cry out for the cloud to wait, but his voice wouldn't work. His mouth was open, and he could feel his vocal chords vibrating, but they made no noise that he could hear. The rushing noise increased suddenly, and the other-worldly light which brightened Frau Hintenschloss's face increased proportionately. The whole room seemed to go suddenly brighter, with glowing halos framing every light-colored object. The five faces around the table glowed brightly, and the noise became nearly unbearable. All five people clapped their hands over their ears, but this had no perceptible effect on the level of the noise. Noise and light suddenly spiked, as if a bomb had exploded, and it was over. The room was dark. The lamp on the table burned as it had before. The fire burned perfectly normally in the grate, with no extra sparks. Heinrich looked down at the glass of brandy which Gretchen had set on the table: the glass was still there, but the brandy was gone, having left a faint dried-on residue, as if it had slowly evaporated over the course of weeks. The Baroness moved strangely, and then fainted, crumpling forward onto the table. Christian, moving with surprising speed and composure, picked her up single-handedly, and moved her limp form to a couch on the far side of the room. There he laid her gently out, then sat down abruptly on the floor as if on the verge of fainting himself. Frau Hinterschloss sat at the table with a strange grin on her face, her hair coming out of her bun in wisps around her face. She looked around the room, at Christian and the Baroness, nearly unconscious on the couch, at Friedrich, who had his head in his hands at the table, and at Heinrich, who was standing next to the table, looking thoughtfully above it. "Now, /that/," she said, "was a seance." Chapter n "But what did you learn?" Heinrich's voice was urgent, and he felt something like panic rising in his breast. "Was that my father? What language was he speaking?" "Calm down, lad, calm down." Gretchen was doing her best to recline in the chair. The Baroness had revived, but was weak, and had the couch to herself. Heinrich found himself full of manic, nervous energy, while Christian had barely stirred from the Baroness's side. "That was your father, or his spirit, anyway. The language we were speaking was [insert name here], the language of angels. I can hardly claim to be fluent, but I know enough to get myself in trouble." She grinned tiredly at Heinrich, but he didn't seem to be in a joking mood. "Sorry. In any case, [languagename] doesn't lend itself to technical descriptions, as I'm sure you can imagine. John Dee first recorded the language of angels, did you know?" She caught herself starting to muse, and recalled herself back to the present. "But yes, your father said that it was urgent for you to finish his work. Unfortunately, I didn't really understand what it was. Something about a nation-state, and energy, and leverage, but not like you might literally exert with a lever. It sounded a bit arcane even to me, and I can assure you, I am well familiar with the arcane." "But, didn't he give you any clues what it was he was doing?" "Well, yes. Levers and nation-state and energy. He seemed to be saying the energy wasn't normal, wasn't like energy normally is. That could mean a new form of energy, or it could mean a different conception of what energy is, I'm not sure. Oh, and..." She paused, concentrating on the memory. "I think he said something about a knife-blade. Well, something like a knife-blade, not actually that. Maybe a scythe? Not for harvesting, exactly, somehow the knife-blade and the energy are related." She cocked her head, looking at the young Lord. "Any of this mean anything to you, son?" Heinrich had sat down at the table, and now had his head in his hands, to match Friedrich. "No," he said eventually. "Well, yes, I know that father had theorized that energy could be stored and transmitted in novel ways. I don't know how a knife would be involved, or a lever, but those images are often invoked as metaphors for something else. He once mentioned to me a dream, in which he stood at the top of a mountain, and he held a device. It glowed with a strange light that he couldn't describe. On another mountaintop, far away, stood another man, with another device, and the devices were linked somehow. He didn't know what it meant, and he actually cited it to me as an example of the frivolity of dreams. But I can't help wondering if that's not involved somehow." "That does... he mentioned something about distance, yes. It was connected with the lever, and I thought he might have just been talking about a very long lever." "What about the notes?" This was Friedrich, who finally lifted his head from his hands. His normally mirthful expression was tired and drawn. Seeing incomprehension on their faces, he explained, "Perhaps if you looked at the notes now, they would make more sense? With this information as a kind of context?" "Lever!" Heinrich looked over to the Baroness de Roseville, who had interrupted. She lifted her head, and looked at him. "Lord von Klausheim, I believe what I have to tell you may have some bearing on this discussion." "What!?" Heinrich jumped up, and immediately regretted it. Much more gingerly, he walked over to where the Baroness was now sitting up on the couch. "What is it you have to say?" "I think I would prefer to speak with you in private on this matter." She wasn't so crude as to indicate the Hintenschlosses in any way, but Heinrich could tell that was her meaning. "Of course. May I help you? We can speak in my father's.. in my study." He offered his hand, and she took it, pulling harder than he'd expected as she stood. They walked quietly out of the room, the Baroness's arm looped through Heinrich's. Chapter n "Your father," she said, once they'd been seated, "wrote to me about some strange kind of energy. It was the last letter I received from him." Heinrich resisted the urge to jump up and shout "Ah-hah!" He contented himself with looking politely at the older woman and waiting for her to continue. "He.. well, he couldn't really describe in a way that made sense to me what he was talking about. I've studied alchemy, and I've studied physics, and what he was describing was still foreign to me. He was using alchemical terms, and physical terms, and also terms I'd never heard before..." She trailed off, uncertain of herself. "Do you have the letter?" Heinrich felt like he was asking an almost unbelievably obvious question, but the Baroness seemed surprised. "Why no, he asked me to burn it, and I did. It was such a strange letter, I thought surely he was starting to go mad. I didn't want to retain evidence of this... infirmity." She paused, clearly trying to order words in her head. "I was in love with your father. I believe he was in love with me. Since your visit, I have been grappling with my conscience as to whether I should speak to you on this matter, but I believe you have a right to know. You should also know that at no time did he behave improperly. "The Baron de Roseville died when we had only been married a short time, just a few years. He fell ill after a hunting trip, and never recovered, simply wasting away. It was a horrible time for me, as I watched my husband wither to nothing. It was a political marriage, and he was 40 years my senior. I did not love him, but it was nonetheless difficult for me. For all that I didn't love him, I didn't dislike him. "The Baron was not a man of intellect, although he was kind. He discouraged me from pursuing my own interests, and so our union was also a time of boredom for me. I am not content with running a household, and am much happier when engaged in higher pursuits. After the Baron's death, I became immersed in learning the subjects which society had deemed inappropriate for me: science, math, philosophy. I was raised to sing with a pretty voice and speak French clearly. I was raised to be ladylike. This left me feeling empty, and I filled that void when I had a chance. "When I met your father, it was like meeting my perfect companion. He shared so many of the same passions that I do." Heinrich tried to imagine his father experiencing passion of any kind, and found the image extremely unlikely, but he didn't say anything. The Baroness continued, "it was almost inevitable that I should become smitten with him, and I think he had a similar reaction to me. But he was held back by the limits of propriety, and his reputation. As you know, he was well-known as a natural philosopher above all else. To be known as a man, with normal, worldly desires, was abhorrent to him, and so despite what he would have done in other circumstances, our friendship remained distant. We communicated through letters, usually on a technical topic. But I could feel something else there, and now..." She paused, looking around the room, trying to feel the presence of the departed man. "I feel I made a mistake in not pressing my case." She looked flustered, and her fan snapped open. She fluttered it in front of her face, an affectation which seemed strange in a woman so plainly removed from courtly fashions. "I'm sorry, this is probably far more on the topic than you ever wished to know. My life has been singularly devoid of confidantes." "No," said Heinrich after a thoughtful pause. "Don't apologize, please. My father, although you paint a picture of him which is entirely foreign to me, would seem to have made a fine choice in his actions, and I am not ashamed of them in the least." Heinrich found himself casting his eye over the Baroness for the first time as a woman instead of as a reluctant source of information about his father. She was, he had to admit, an attractive woman, and the allure of an intellectual companion must have been powerful. "However," he continued, "I wish you had kept his last letter. It would serve me very well at this moment, I feel." "Do you really think that woman.." "My aunt, Gretchen Hintenschloss, I apologize for not introducing you." "Oh? Well then, your aunt. Do you really think that she called the spirit of Klaus von Klausheim here tonight?" "I don't know. I am uncertain what happened, but it was well beyond anything I've experienced before. Tell me," said Heinrich, an empirical experimentation thought hitting him, "what did you experience?" "When she started speaking in that language, was it the language of angels, she said? When she started speaking in that, I felt a constriction in my head, as if someone had given me a hat which was too tight. There was more noise than there should have been, perhaps the noise of wind? I felt my body grow light, and..." She paused, the fan fluttering faster again. "I cannot explain it, but the light in the room changed. It was as if someone had ignited lime, although there was no source I could find. I saw something over the table, and I heard a man's voice speaking in the same language she was using. I thought it was one of you, or perhaps your uncle?" "I certainly was saying nothing. I remember standing and trying to speak, but my voice made no noise." "It was certainly a singular experience." "Indeed it was, and you've both helped and hindered me." "Oh?" The confidence he'd seen back at the townhouse seemed to be returning a she spoke off the topic of her emotions. "I had theorized that Frau Hintenschloss had drugged our brandy. She made a great show of grabbing the brandy decanter from the butler earlier in the evening and pouring our drinks. But you had no brandy, isn't that correct?" "That's right." "Then any drugs she may have given us could not have affected you. Yet, you experienced much the same things as I did, although I didn't notice a tightness in my head, or a lightness of body. I heard the noise of a rushing wind, and I saw the light turn bizarre, and I saw what I would call a cloud above the table. I heard the man's voice speaking, although I would be very surprised if it were my uncle speaking, and it certainly wasn't Christian." Heinrich paused, and looked thoughtful. "Given evidence I have available to me now," he continued, "I must conclude that there are forces and energies at work within my aunt which I don't understand. I have no way to explain what happened this evening. I'm sure she'll tell me it was magic, but I'm equally sure you can understand that I discount that explanation out of hand. Everything in the world can be explained and understood by careful observation and experimentation." Chapter n The next morning, Heinrich found himself to be the last to the breakfast table. Breakfast was traditionally a much less formal affair at von Klausheim manor, and he was glad of this fact as he retrieved a blutwurst, potatoes and eggs from the chafing dishes set up on the sideboard. Christian and Frau Hintenschloss were also there, eating, and he was informed that Herr Hintenschloss and the Baroness had already broken their fast. "Fr... Gretchen," started Heinrich, after he'd gotten a few bites of food into his belly, "did my father's spirit say anything else to you last night?" "What do you mean?" "Well, I understand that traditionally spirits say things like, 'tell my family all's well,' or, 'the money's hidden up the chimney,' or what have you. Did he only speak on technical matters?" "Well, as a matter of fact, he did speak of the wellbeing of his family and his friends, but you seemed rather more interested in the teechnical matters last night." Her eyes twinkled merrily, all mirth restored by a good night's sleep. "Anything specific?" "Not really. No money to speak of, anyway." She laughed at her little joke. "No, of course not. I was only curious. Tell me, how did you learn the language of angels? What did you call it again?" "Oh, [languagename]? There was an English scholar named John Dee about 300 years ago, who made an extensive study of angels and their language." "And how did this John Dee come to converse with angels?" "Well, truth to tell," she said, winking slyly at him, "he went a bit mad. You don't get to talking to angels without being a little bit off from the rest of the world. Fortunately, his madness just enabled him to see things which are always there, as opposed to the more normal sort, where you see things that /aren't/ there." She laughed again, to herself, as she speared a slice of sausage on her fork. "And he wrote it all down? It must make for either fascinating, or frustrating reading." "Oh, indeed. I've got some books you could borrow if you're interested. But you're not really interested, are you. Why are you really asking, my young Lord von Klausheim?" If she had grinned any wider, he feared she would damage her face. He found himself disarmed by that grin. He grinned weakly in return. "I... I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you, mein Frau, but I don't believe in magic." "Of course you don't. What do you think happened last night, then?" "I don't know. I suppose that's why I'm asking. Without resorting to words like magic and spirits, can you explain what you did last night?" Heinrich looked uncomfortably at his plate. He was violating his own rules of ettiquette, but for all his sleepless tossing last night, had been unable to formulate a better plan of action. "Not really, no. I understand what I do in terms of magic. You're asking me something like if I asked you to explain why water boils without using words like fire and steam." "Ah," he smiled wistfully at his plate, then looked up. "That's fair, I apologize for intruding." "Nonsense, you're not intruding. I'm just telling you that you're asking the impossible of me. Magic is magic. Spirits are spirits. Just the same as steel is steel and fire is fire." "Indeed. I wish I could understand what happened last night, in terms which make sense to me." "You can, you just have to learn new terms." She regarded the dark-haired young man thoughtfully. "You know, the question I haven't asked yet is, why do you care so much?" Heinrich stopped his fork partway to his mouth, with a look of surprise on his face. Christian looked up at his brother, his recalcitrance momentarily forgotten. Heinrich set down his fork, and spent a moment fomulating an answer. "I care because I wish to know how my father died. It is important to me, if I may borrow a word from you, because I wish to put his spirit to rest. His death was unnatural, and cut off a great man in the middle of his life." "You'd best continue what he was doing then. He definitely said that, last night." "I know. I think I've known that since the explosion, and that is perhaps the correct answer to your question. His work is not finished, and I am in a position to finish it. It's my duty, not only to my father, but also to the future. To science." "That's a noble sentiment. And that, my son, is why I'm here, and dragged Friedrich with me. He didn't want to come, you know, said it wasn't our business. But I knew, without knowing why, that we were needed here. Magic works like that sometimes, you know something without knowing why you know it. "Friedrich is a dab hand in the lab, as you'll discover. You couldn't ask for a more able assistant, no offense intended," she said, glancing at Christian. Christian, however, feigned disinterest, and toyed with his potatoes. Heinrich looked down at his plate again, but didn't find the inspiration he was seeking. He looked up at the older woman sitting across the table from him. "Thank you," he finally said. "Let's get to work." Chapter n The next week passed in something of a blur for Heinrich. The lab still wasn't complete, but he and Friedrich and Gretchen worked around the construction and cleanup. Gretchen, against Heinrich's protestation, also drove back to Felzenholz to retrieve some books and supplies she said would come in handy, returning two days later with a large trunk. Over the course of the week, and with the assistance of Frau Hintenschloss's temporary library, they were able to decipher more of the late Lord von Klausheim's notes, and Heinrich started forming an idea of what he'd been working on. The Baroness had departed the day after she arrived, but not before telling Heinrich a few more of the things she remembered from the letter she'd burned. The most important contribution she made was to explain how levers factored into the mystery: his plan was to make a device which was a sort of energy lever, so that a small amount of, for instance, steam energy, could be fed into the device, and the output would be much greater, as if amplified by a lever. She didn't understand how this was possible, and had dismissed it. "It /is/ an energy source," he said near the end of the week, rocking back on his lab stool, and running his hands down his face. His own notebook was full of pages and pages of notes he'd taken while trying to understand the precious, ink-spattered pages Frau Hintenschloss had written out so many days ago now. Friedrich, who had been supervising the reconstruction of the large boiler foundation, walked over when he heard young Heinrich speak. "What was that?" "It's an energy source. That is, it's an energy enlarger. I don't yet understand how it could work, but that's what he was working on. It seems to draw its power from a source which can only be described in alchemical terms. It doesn't fit with what I understand. It's a bit like trying to read a foreign language where most of the words are the same, but mean different things than what you're accustomed to." He rubbed his eyes again, then stretched his arms wide, his back cracking as he did so. He reached over and grabbed a think and somewhat grubby book from the bench. "This," he raised the book while looking at Friedrich, "makes almost no sense to me. It reads like a madman's rantings, but it's becoming clearer to me that my father was referring to the same book, or at least one which contains similar information. There are mathematical formulae in here which... well, they don't work. It's like someone loaded a shotgun with proper scientific knowledge, and blew it into this man's brains, so that he'll discuss the properties of sodium in the same thought that he's writing about the play of light on moving water. But," and here Heinrich flipped open the book to one of several scraps of paper marking different places, "this phrase right here, where he writes of a 'thaumic resonance,' I think my father copied it down word for word, here." Heinrich held up the notes, and pointed to a line. Friedrich set both items on the bench and leaned over them. "It does look that way, doesn't it. My goodness. Have you asked Gretchen about this yet? I have understood words like 'thaumic' to refer to magic." Heinrich looked surprised. "You know," continued Friedrich, "from 'thaumaturgy.' The study of magic. Have you not heard the term before?" "No, I guess not. It's foreign to me." "I'll go get Gretchen, we'll see what she thinks about this." A few minutes later, Frau Hintenschloss was at Heinrich's side, looking over the quote in the book. "Ah, Roentgen, he was mad, but he was good. The physics in this are a bit beyond me, but as I see it, he's trying to say that with... well, with the right kind of resonant chamber, made of the right stuff, looks like quicksilver and gold are involved, you can effectively channel magical energy." Heinrich looked at her, his brain racing ahead. "But... where does magical energy come from?" "Where does your energy come from?" "Food. And water and air, I guess." "No, I mean your spirit, your soul. How do you think? Does food do the thinking for you?" Heinrich sat in thought for a moment, then said, "I don't know. I suppose it could be argued that God grants us the ability to think, but..." "You don't really believe in a greater being, I know." They'd had this discussion many times over the last few days. Heinrich believed firmly that the workings of the universe, like a clock, could be disassembled, ennumerated, measured, and understood. The was no room for a god in his understanding, although he was willing to grant that there may have once been a god to set it all up and start it in motion. "Well, when you can tell me how you can think and feel, that's about when I can tell you where magic comes from." She smiled. "It doesn't matter, though. If I've got this right, you're looking at a way to turn magical energy into real energy with a physical device, right?" "I guess you could put it that way, yes." "Well, that's never been done before. I never would have thought it was possible. But if your dad thought it could be done, it probably could." "He's been wrong before, but you're right, if he thought it was possible, it probably is. The trick now is to understand how." Chapter n It took nearly a year to come up with a working prototype of the device, which Heinrich had taken to calling the Thaumplifier. It was a rangy collection of pipes, wires, cogs, and a central spherical chamber covered in a gridwork of rivets. It covered nearly two meters of a workbench, but when a crank on one side was operated with minimal force, the output crank on the other side multiplied the torque many times. It was, Heinrich had to admit, magical. He had only the faintest understanding of how the magical side of the device worked. The central chamber had something to do with it -- it was lined with gold, and filled with a matrix of glass spheres full of quicksilver, carefully arranged in a three-dimensional geometrical pattern, like a series of lenses in some kind of non-linear telescope. There had been many trials, and as many errors. It turned out that when magical energy didn't work, instead of catching fire, or exploding, or leaking, it had... odd effects. Heinrich had a permanent scar on his left arm now, where a patch of flesh had simply disappeared, leaving empty space. It hadn't hurt when it happened, but since he then had a large open wound exposed to anything the environment had to offer, it had hurt quite a bit a moment later. It wasn't just things oddly disappearing, either. Sometimes, things were changed. A wrench he'd been working with, for instance, suddenly became pliable as if it were made of rubber. It flopped comically when Heinrich had tried to pick it up, and when, puzzled, he'd set it down, it seemed to come to life, and flopped off the bench surface of its own accord. Heinrich was glad that no one had been seriously hurt so far. During the year, the Hinterschlosses had come and gone, and finally he'd invited them to move into the manor, if they chose. He could see no reason to resurrect old family enmity where none seemed to exist now. They'd been happy enough with the arrangement, since it made their lives easier, although Frau Hintenschloss had been unhappy with the thought of leaving her circle of friends behind, and still made regular trips back to Felzenholz. The year had not passed without troubles, of course. von Hompesch, the government minister, had returned with a handful of soldiers, and tried to convince the von Klausheim household that he was willing to have them all arrested if they didn't turn over Klaus's notes and work. The soldiers had been sent packing by something Frau Hintenschloss did, although she wouldn't explain what, coyly saying, "We must maintain some aura of mystery, mustn't we?" with an enormous grin on her face. von Hompesch heard the departing footsteps, and turned to see his soldiers running as if the very hounds of Hell were after them. He had left shortly thereafter, and hadn't returned. Some intrigue also occurred: Christian, it turned out, had been regularly sneaking back to Reigenstadt, and was courting a chambermaid at the Baroness de Roseville's residence. The Baroness had also become a regular guest at the manor, and occasionally contributed to the work on the Thaumplifier. Heinrich was busily preparing a paper on his work one evening, when Braun entered bearing a visiting card on a silver platter. "My Lord, the Count von Ries is here to see you." "The who?" Heinrich looked up, puzzled, his mind thoroughly ensconced in the rarified realms of pure science. "The Count von Ries, sir. The Count is the lord of the Ries district, in the south." "Oh." Heinrich thought for a moment. "Tell the count I will be with him in ten minutes." "Very good sir." Heinrich finished his thought on the page, and stood to greet his visitor. The Count von Ries was a tall, well-dressed fellow, with a fashionably tall top-hat, and a coat cut in a manner Heinrich didn't recognize -- he suspected because he was well-behind on courtly fashions. His face was covered by a carefully trimmed beard, framing his pale skin between black beard and black hair. The Count introduced himself with a bow. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit, your Grace? Won't you be seated?" "Thank you, my Lord. I must admit, the cause of my visit is most opportune. I was pursuing a business relationship in Reigenstadt, with one of your merchants, and I felt I just had to visit. You see," and here his voice dropped so low that Heinrich had to lean forward to hear the man speak, "I have felt what you are doing. All the way down in Ries. The ripples are quite noticeable, I'm afraid." Heinrich leaned back in his chair, frowning. "I'm afraid I don't understand, sir." "The work you're doing. I don't, I admit, know /what/ it is that you are doing here, but it is causing... perturbations, if you will, for quite a distance. If I've felt it, others will have as well." "Are you referring to earthquakes?" The Count's serious face split into a grin, and he laughed briefly. "Oh heavens no. No, no, not earthquakes. More like," and again his voice dropped to a near-whisper, "magic-quakes." "There's no need to lower your voice, sir, my servants may be trusted." The Count's face registered surprise. "They know what you're working on?" "No, not precisely, but the subject of my studies has not been a secret to them. My aunt, Frau Hintenschloss has been assisting me in my work, and she is very open as to her line of expertise." The Count sat back, clearly impressed. "Well, I am impressed. If any of my household had any whiff of my abilities, I'm quite certain they would quit my employ within the day. In truth, the merchant was an excuse to travel out here, but it legitimizes the trip." The Count looked around, clearly still in the habit of secrecy, then asked, "May I ask, what are you working on?" "I'd rather not discuss that at the moment," replied Heinrich, somewhat uncertainly. It hadn't occurred to him until this coversation that he might be doing something which would be objected to my anyone, although thinking about it logically, of course that made sense. Bergen was, if anything, a staunchly Christian nation, and this would likely be frowned upon as witchcraft. Heinrich spared a thought to wonder how Frau Hintenschloss managed to be so open about it, but didn't have time to pursue the thought before the Count von Ries was speaking again. "The main reason I wished to travel here, sir, was to give you a warning." His voice was still lowered, and Heinrich found himself leaning in to hear better. "A warning? What do you mean?" "I fear you may be dabbling with forces which could have... well, unforeseen and unpleasant side-effects, to put it bluntly." The Count's face was most serious as he said this. "Surely you're jesting," said Heinrich, although he had wondered himself at numerous times what the potential problems with his new device could be. He sat back in his chair, trying to maintain a hearty smile to match his words. "No, sir, I'm afraid I'm not. Unfortunately, I cannot give you any specifics, since you are unwilling to discuss your work, but the ripples I've felt have impressed me most ominously. I urge you to discontinue what you are doing as soon as possible. I fear you are placing not only your country, but also your contient, even possibly your world in danger." "How do you come to know these things," said Heinrich, consciously changing the subject. "I was born with a natural sensitivity to occult occurrences, although it is only in the last five or ten years that I have been able to properly understand what I was feeling and place it into a sensible context." He preened a little, obviously proud to be able to discuss the topic openly. "Amazing," said Heinrich. "Was there such a sensitivity in other members of your family? Ancestors? I wonder if it's a genetic trait, or if it's a random mutation." Heinrich trailed of, musing to himself. "I assure you, sir, my abilities have little to do with science. Although, I must say, they follow little logic, so it's as likely to be a genetic trait as it is to be that a magical cat sneezed on me as a babe." "Most interesting," said Heinrich. "And now, sir, I hope I may insist again that you cease your activities." Heinrich sighed in a way he belatedly hoped wasn't too obvious. "Very well, can you tell me what danger you believe I'm creating?" The Count looked uncomfortable, and he glanced at the fire. Wringing his hands, he looked back to Heinrich, and said, "I'm afraid I can't. Perhaps the environment will become polluted with impurities? Perhaps the order of things will become disrupted? I cannot rightly say. However, my intuition tells me that it is a dangerous course of action, and the danger posed may be very wide-spread indeed." "Well." Heinrich tried to think of a polite way to laugh in ridicule, then decided against it, simply saying, "Please consider your warning duly issued, your Grace. Have you lodgings for the evening?" "Yes, I am staying at a hostelry in Reigenstadt." "You're welcome to overnight here, if you'd like. It's an hour back to Reigenstadt, and the night is cold." The Count von Reis pondered this for a moment, then agreed to spend the night at the von Klausheim manor. Heinrich rang for a servant, and had a room prepared for the Count. Chapter n Heinrich awoke from a dream in which he had been riding atop a kind of mechanical horse with glowing eyes. He had been riding faster and faster -- certainly faster than any natural horse could run, its steam-driven legs pumping so quickly underneath him that they were little more than blurs, and the landscape flew by until it was impossible to see. He was awakened by someone shaking him, which had blended into the motion of the horse-machine. "Heinrich!" The voice sounded urgent, and he tried to sit up, but found that he was tangled in his sheets. "What?" He blinked the bleariness out of his eyes, and eventually made out Christian sitting beside his bed in the dark room. "Christian? What are you doing? It's the middle of the night." "Brother, I heard a noise, which woke me. It was that Count's door closing." The Count had been installed in the suite next to Christian's for the night. "And? A man is allowed to walk about at night if he so desires." Christian looked down at his hands at the rebuke, but appeared to reach a kind of inner strength, and said, "Be that as it may brother, it woke me, and I peeked out my door to see what was happening. He was fully dressed, which struck me as odd, and then I saw his butler, carrying his travelling case, which struck me as even odder." He trailed off, looking with concern into his brother's sleepy face. "And? You woke me to tell me that our guest has left early? A trifle rude perhaps, but he seems to be an odd man, and I can't say I'm sorry to see him go." "It just seems so odd. Why did he leave so early? I checked, it's not even 4 in the morning yet. I didn't want to wake anyone, but I couldn't sleep again. I heard his carriage drive off a few minutes later." Heinrich lay back in his bed, and threw his arm over his eyes. "Christian. Have you woken me from a sound slumber to tell me just that a guest has departed at an odd hour?" "I..." started the boy, who then hung his head as he heard the logical summary of his ill ease. "Yes, it seems so. I apologize, brother." "Please go back to bed. We can check to see if the Count von Ries has stolen the silver in the morning, alright?" "Yes, Heinrich, I'm sorry. It... it seemed important, but you're right, it should have waited until morning." "Good night, or, I suppose, good morning, Christian," said Heinrich, turning over in his bed by way of dismissal. "Good morning, Heinrich." Chapter n "My lord!" There was a quiet tap at the door, and then Heinrich was aware of someone in the room. He opened his eyes, and saw that there was light peeking under the curtains, and Braun was standing by the side of the bed, his hand halfway to grabbing Heinrich's shoulder. "What is it Braun? I know the Count rode off this morning very early." Heinrich's voice was tired. He hadn't been able to sleep very well after Christian's interruption, although apparently he'd been able to drift off later. "My lord, there has been a disturbance in your lab." "What!?" Heinrich sat bolt upright, fully awake now. "Wait, what do you mean, 'a disturbance?'" "I regret to say, sir, that your device has vanished. It was missing when I opened the doors to check on your late father's heating system this morning." Heinrich sat in his bed, stunned, for a moment, before he told Braun to have a couple of servants sweep the lab carefully, to see if it had simply been moved -- magical accidents over the past year had produced far stranger results. He clambered out of bed and got dressed more quickly than he had in years. The lab was, indeed, emptier than it should have been. The bench which had been the home of the thaumic amplifier was distressingly bare. The metal straps which had held the machine down were still there, with one screw still buried in the wooden benchtop, while the other end of each strap pointed up at the ceiling accusingly. Heinrich let out an incoherent yelp of muddled rage and agony. The machine had clearly been removed by human hands, and he had one guess whose hands those had been. "Braun, send a runner into Reigenstadt right now, and find out where that blasted Count has gone. He said he was staying at a hostelry there, and that he was pursuing some kind of business deal with... well, with a merchant. Blast! I don't think he even said what kind of merchant! Slippery bastard!" Heinrich sat down on a nearby stool, and stared at the empty space where the contraption had been. A year's work! Gone! It would take... well, it wouldn't be that hard to rebuild, and he could probably do it better, knowing what he now knew of the first device. He was half way to thanking the Count for forcing him to make a better prototype before the blood drained from his face, and he felt the bottom of the world fall away from him. The notes! He fairly leapt to his notebook in one bound. It wasn't there. Well, he might have put it away last time he'd worked in here, right? After all, he'd been working on that paper, for the most part. Wait, did he have his notebook in the study? Or was it on the shelf? He ran over to the shelf, but there was no notebook there. He flew back to his study, coattails trailing behind him like nervous wings. The desk, which he had neglected to lock, contained neither notebook nor, he saw, the paper he'd been writing. By now, the household had been awake for long enough that people were descending the stairs in search of breakfast, and so it happened that Frau Hintenschloss glanced into the study as she passed, and saw the extremely odd sight of a disheveled and mad-looking Heinrich von Klausheim throwing papers into the air off the desk like a dust devil. "Heinrich! What on earth are you doing?" She entered the study, he face a picture of horrified concern. "Have you gone mad?" "He took them!" Heinrich barely glanced up at his aunt before he went back to discarding papers from the desk. "That bastard took my notes! They're gone! Even the paper I was writing!" "What notes, what are you talking about? The Thaumplifier?" Heinrich paused, looking at his aunt with firey eyes. "Yes! It's all gone! He took the device last night, and absconded like a thief in the night! He /was/ a thief in the night! Damn him!" He suddenly sat, the old chair creaking under the strain, and put his hands to his face. "Over a year of work, gone. Walked out the door with that damned Count, and I could have caught him. Christian told me last night. But he just said the loon had left, not that he left with my father's work under his arm!" Frau Hintenschloss came around the desk to give her nephew a comforting hug, but he shot up out of the chair before she could get there. "I'll kill him! He can't abuse a man's hospitality and steal his livelihood! He has called down an honor killing upon his head!" Frau Hintenschloss reached up and slapped Heinrich hard across the face. He looked at her in surprise, but the anger drained away. "What are you talking about? He stole a device, he didn't hurt anyone. Calm down." Her face had taken on a hard set which he'd never seen before. "Quit this silly shouting, and calm down. Come have some breakfast. We'll all talk about what we can do. You're not the only one affected by this." Heinrich put his hand to his face, where a bright red mark was developing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice much more like normal. "You're right, perhaps this won't look so bad after some food." Chapter n Breakfast produced a calmer atmosphere, but things were still tense. A search after the meal produced no sign of the notes or the device, and the Count's rooms were clear of any sign he'd ever been there. The runner came back from Reigenstadt with nothing good to report. No one seemed to have seen the Count, or even knew that he was in town. The city wasn't that big, and it seemed increasingly likely that at least some of the Count's story had been a fabrication. Heinrich took the opportunity to go for a ride, to clear his head. He hadn't been moving about much lately, and he figured some exercise would do him well. He leapt onto his horse and galloped off for several hours. At dinner that night, Heinrich, Christian, Herr and Frau Hintenschloss, and the Baroness de Roseville conferred across the table, between mouthfuls. Helmholz, the cook, had exceeded himself this night, possibly in an effort to assuage the high emotion running about the manor. "It strikes me," said Frau Hintenschloss, "that there are two important questions. The first is whether our Count will try to make some use of your device. The second is whether you can reconstruct your work." Christian interrupted before Heinrich could respond. "What would he use it for? Wasn't he against its being used?" "Ay, that's what he said," said Frau Hintenschloss, motioning with a piece of beef at the end of her fork. She ate the morsel, then continued, "but his real intentions could be anything. He could want to use it himself for who knows what, or he could want to sell it, or any of dozens of other scenarios. Why, he could be a rival scientist, I suppose." "Nonsense," said Heinrich, although almost as soon as the word was out of his mouth, he reconsidered. "Well," he said, "perhaps nonsense. I hope to the heavens it's nonsense." "No, I think it's quite likely. A rival scientist, he hears about your device (although how he would have heard, I'll never know), he decides to come see for himself with some story about the destruction of the country, having heard it uses mysterious powers." Christian studiously salted his meal so pointedly that even Heinrich noticed. "Christian," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "Hmm?" The young man looked up from what must have by then been an extremely salty plate of beef and asparagus. "Did you tell someone what I've been working on?" Heinrich's voice, he could tell, was not maintaining the light tone he was trying for, and there were definite undertones of menace. "No, not as such." "And what does that mean?" "I..." he stared sullenly at the plate, the grains of salt sparkling up at him in the bright candlelight. "I may have mentioned some of it in passing to someone." "And to whom?" All eyes were now fixed on the young man, or at least on the top of his blond head, which was all anyone could see. He mumbled something, apparently speaking in some confidence to the steak on his plate. "I'm sorry?" "Anne," he said, just loud enough to be heard. "Who is Anne, pray tell?" "You don't mean Fraulein Holmbach, do you?" This was from the Baroness de Roseville. She looked sharply at Christian. "'es." "What was that?" Her voice was sharp. "Yes," said Christian, with greater volume this time. "Young man, I don't want to know in what capacity you spoke with my servant, but you should know that she is the worst of them for gossip. I should imagine that half of Bergen knows anything you've told her!" Christian stewed for a moment, then, looking up, said, "We're in love!" far too loud. "With a servant? I despair that your parents have left you alone for so long!" There was a deeper lack of sound around the table after de Roseville said this, and she looked to Heinrich and each of the faces in turn. Her face colored, and she said, much more quietly, "I apologize, I know that events were not within their, or your, control. Please excuse me." Christian looked like he might bolt from the table again, but he seemed to control the urge, and merely cast a defiant look at the Baroness before taking an aggressive bite of steak, on which he nearly gagged from salt. Heinrich had to stop himself from laughing, and the mood was very effectively lifted, albeit at Christian's expense. "Now, as I was saying," said Frau Hintenschloss, covering her smile with her napkin before continuing, "the other question, and equally important is, can you make another one?" She looked at Heinrich before taking a large bite of asparagus. "I don't think so. That is, I could do the work again, and it would be easier this time, but it would still take me months to reconstruct all the notes and determine all the details I worked out the first time. I would probably do it better, but I would much rather retrieve my original notes and my device." "I agree," said Friedrich, speaking for the first time since they'd sat down. "We could rebuild it, and it would be better for the lessons we've learned, but if we had the notes, we could do the same thing in a matter of weeks instead of months. In any case, we still have many experiments we should run on the original prototype before we trying making another one. I say we need to get back what was stolen." Heinrich nodded, and said, "I agree. We should be able to figure out who that was, if it wasn't really the Count von Ries. Once we know that, we know where to look and how to pursue this." "How are we going to determine that," asked the Baroness, looking keenly at Heinrich. "You said he left no sign behind, did you not?" "Well," said Heinrich, "nothing but his calling card. And unless I'm greatly mistaken, that should be enough for our psychic repairwoman, my aunt Gretchen Hintenschloss, to find something out. Is that not right, aunt?" She smiled broadly. "That is certainly the case, young Lord von Klausheim." Chapter n With a surprisingly small amount of mystical chanting, Frau Hintenschloss was able to call up some knowledge of the putative Count von Ries. "He's no count, that's for sure," she said, within a few seconds of grasping the card in her hand. "What is he?" asked Heinrich, surprised to have any information so quickly. They were in the sitting room, with a cheery fire blazing in the grate. Frau Hintenschloss opened her eyes for a moment, glancing at Heinrich, then closed them again. "That's all I know just now. Quiet." Her face screwed up in concentration. "It's all kind of mixed in with the printer who did this -- but he was an honest man doing his job, and our friend wasn't." After a minute or two of concentration, she said faintly, "Joseph." "What?" Louder, she repeated, "Joseph. That is one of his names, but I don't know which one yet. Someone called him that. Bastard didn't carry his cards right, didn't leave much of an imprint on this one, anyway." She lapsed back into silence, and the assembled group looked on. Eventually, she opened her eyes, and said, "Joseph is the clearest thing I got, but I also picked up a Helmut, and a Richtenstein. He travelled a long way with that card in his pocket, but it was within Bergen at least. It was printed by a man named... Oh, that was Richtenstein. That makes sense. He must have picked this card up just before he headed here, there was nothing but travel. Train, and carriage, and walking. I don't think he was any Count." "Do you have any idea where he travelled from?" This from the Baroness. "Big city somewhere, but that's all I got." "So," said Heinrich musing over the list of notes he'd been taking, "we have a man from a big city... well, who had this card printed in a big city, in any case, named Joseph or Helmut or both. The card was printed by a man named Richtenstein. If we're lucky, that's the name of the printer's shop -- do you know, aunt?" "Ye-es, I think so. It was a small shop. This was one of several cards, but not one of thousands printed. It'd have to be a small snop, wouldn't it?" "I can't say I know anything about printers, but that would make sense. A large printer's shop would probably want to only deal in large orders." Heinrich looked thoughtful, and scribbled this bit of information down as well. "Anything else?" He looked up at Frau Hintenschloss hopefully, but she shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Well, he carried his cards in a bag most of the way, not in his pocket like he should have. I don't get much imprint off a bag, ye see." "It would seem," said Herr Hintenschloss, who was standing with his back to the fire, "that the best course of action is to find the printer. Then we're probably in the right city, and he might be able to give us a better identity for our mystery man." "When will you go?" asked the Baroness from her chair. Heinrich looked over at her, and thought for a moment. "Tomorrow," he then replied. "Oh! But, where are you going?" "I don't know yet, but I know how to find out. Christian, pull the bell, will you?" The butler appeared shortly thereafter, and Heinrich said, "Braun, send one of the servants in to Reigenstadt and look up the printing shop there. Ask them if they know of a printer named Richtenstein, probably located in a big city, Hauptstadt, or Kiesen or Lorrace. There may be a guild membership roll." "Very good, sir." The butler shimmered out. "Well, we shall know in a few hours' time, I expect." Heinrich smiled around the room, and said, "Who will join me for a game of whist?" Chapter n It was midnight before the rider came back with the news: there was a small printer's shop named Richtenstein's in Kiesen. It was on Olgermannplatz, at number 53. Heinrich gave a whoop, and had a small glass of sherry to celebrate. His chambermaid and Braun had his travelling things packed by 7 the next morning, and Heinrich was at the breakfast table around the same time. He was surprised to see everyone else was already there. "What are you doing up at this hour?" Christian in particular was fond of sleeping quite late into the morning. Herr Hintenschloss smiled up at him, swallowing a bite of eggs. "We're going with you." "What? Why?" "This isn't just your quest, young Heinrich. We are all involved in your work, and we all want to see it safely returned. Besides, you have no idea what you may be up against. What if this Joseph character is part of an organization? What if they employ force? What if they employ magic? You need our assistance." "And in any case, I have a sister in Kiesen who I've been needing to visit for ages," said the Baroness. "I dispatched a letter to her last night saying I was coming. I also believe," she said, smiling, "that the /Philosophisches Markt/ in Kiesen is a place I'd very much like to see. You might enjoy it as well. I understand they have a working Van De Graff generator on display." "Wait, wait. No. Thank you all, that's very kind, but you're right, Friedrich, we have no idea what I'm up against. This could be a very dangerous trip. I have no desire to place you, my friends and family, in peril. Far safer to stay here. I can handle myself." Heinrich's face was set. "I don't see that you have much choice, my young Lord," said Gretchen, the mischevious smile back on her face with full force. "Even if you depart alone, there's nothing to stop us from following you." "But.." "No, I think you'll find we're quite resolute on this point," said the Baroness. "But.." "Brother," said Christian. "We are going with you." "You? A mad young poet? And you?" said Heinrich, looking at the Baroness, "a society lady who dabbles in science? And..." "Hold your tongue!" Frau Hintenschloss was standing in front of him with surprising speed. Much more calmly, she said, "I think you'll find we make excellent travelling companions, and I can virtually guarantee that everything will go much more smoothly if you still your tongue, sit down, and eat some breakfast. We will be taking the 12:35 train from Reigenstadt." "But.." "Sit. Eat." She pushed him down into his chair, where he sat, and he ate. Chapter n The carriage ride into Reigenstadt passed without conversation. Heinrich had again tried to object to anyone coming with him, and had again been argued into submission. The five of them were a tight fit in the carriage, which had really been intended to carry four in comfort. Frau Hintenschloss had elected to sit on Herr Hintenschloss's lap, much to the disapprobation of particularly Baroness de Roseville. The Hintenschlosses didn't share quite the same mood as the rest of the party, and their contribution to the silence was occasionally punctuated by whispers or giggles. Finally, the rolled into Reigenstadt and up to the Hauptbahnhof, where they disembarked. The driver helped them unload their baggage, then wheeled the carriage back to the manor, which would continue to run under the expert eye of Braun and his staff. Heinrich had instructed his man to expect them back in more than two weeks, but less than four. They had arrived an hour early, in anticipation of any troubles on the road, or with the train. As usual, however, the roads had been clear, if icy, and the train was running on time. They boarded their train, and quickly found their sleeping cabins. The ride to Kiesen was nearly a day, owing to the occasionally circuitous and often steep path the train had to travel to avoid the steeper passes. Bergen was not a large country, but Reigenstadt was near its southern border, and Kiesen was near the northern. The Baroness and Herr and Frau Hintenschloss stayed in one cabin, while Heinrich and Christian stayed in the next, further back along the train. Heinrich still had misgivings about all of them coming along, but their argument had been flawless: there was nothing he could really do to stop them. He was secretly glad of the help -- although he was a worldly person and had travelled in his youth, this was his first trip without a parent, and the first in which he was truly in charge of himself (although he also quietly smirked to himself that he was not truly in his own charge, particularly with his aunt and uncle along, who had taken on nearly parental attitudes to the two you von Klausheim men). The train departed with a screech of the whistle, and a lurch as the huge steam engine surged forward. Soon they were rocketing along at nearly 45 miles per hour... or rather, 70 kilometers per hour, Heinrich corrected himself. "Brother," said Christian, from his bunk, where he'd been lying with a notebook and pencil, "what do you think we'll find?" "I don't really know. I expect this man was a charlatan, who will attempt to use the device for his own gain. Whether that will be financial or political gain, I couldn't say." "But why did he take the notes?" "Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps he was in the employ of a rival. I can think of several contemporaries of father who would be delighted to have this work. Herr Doktor Frankenstein, for instance, or His Grace, Count Alucard. Father corresponded with Alucard, although I believe he refused to converse with Frankenstein, calling him some rather unpleasant names." Heinrich looked out the window, where snow-covered landscape was passing by at an initially alarming, but now comfortable pace. They were in farmland, although now it looked like nothing more than rolling fields of white, with a backdrop of mountains. He found himself pondering what his father would have made of this situation. Doubtless he would have offered stern words against those who would steal from others to enrich themselves. He would also, no doubt, pursue the thief with a good deal of vigor, and a number of his own technological surprises about his person. Heinrich was not to be left behind on that count. He'd brought his ballstic walking stick, which included three shots of .50 caliber ball in specially-constructed brass enclosures his father had hoped would revolutionize firearms (but had thus far been rejected by the weapons manufacturers of Bergen); he had the personal disruptor, an elaborately camouflaged box which looked like a hardback book, but contained a generator which would stun an opponent for serveral minutes; and he'd brought, on something of a whim, his miniaturized field camera, which used a carefully-aligned telescope instead of a ground-glass for framing the image, and several plates for it, in heavy paper envelopes. It was hardly larger than the family bible, and folded into itself. "Brother? Heinrich?" Heinrich realized that Christian had been speaking, but he'd been lost in thought. "Sorry, what was it you said?" Heinrich looked over at his brother, who was propped up on one arm, his look of concern now fading. "I asked what you'd do if we couldn't find this Joseph fellow." "I don't know. I don't really have a plan of action, Christian. Right now, I intend to find the printer, and ask him about our Count. Only after that can I determine a further course of action." "I hope we find him. For father." "Yes, well, I also hope that, although I admit I'm as interested in it for myself as for father. I believe father is pleased, although it would be worth asking Gretchen to check again. It still confounds me that it's actually possible to speak with the dead. Honestly, brother, it still confounds me that we were able to retrieve energy from the aether, but I saw it, it really happened." Christian rolled back onto his back, his notebook lying ignored beside him. The train swayed gently as it clattered over the tracks. Eventually the younger man said, "I wonder what Anne's doing right now." Heinrich tried not to show his exasperation. "I've told you before, Christian, you will not be marrying a servant, no matter how pretty you think she is." His tone of voice was almost the even calmness he'd been striving for. "And I've told you, we're in love. Don't hound me about it." "I'm not hounding you, Christian, I'm... Never mind. We can discuss this some other time." There was a knock at the door, and it opened to reveal the Baroness. "Would you two like to join us for lunch? The Hintenschlosses and I were just going down to the dining car." "Yes, thank you, my lady," said Heinrich standing. "Christian?" With a bit of a sulk in his voice, Christian said, "I suppose." Chapter n The remainder of the journey passed without incident, although the train had to stop several times for reasons which were never explained. There was a 2-hour stopover in Hauptstadt, and Christian was nearly late getting back on the train. He explained that he'd found a fascinating marketplace near the Bahnhof, and lost track of time. He held up his purchase by way of explanation: an intricate spun glass model of the Rosenkirche, one of the more famous churches in Hauptstadt. Heinrich thought it looked fragile and pointless, but he refrained from saying so out loud. They arrived in Kiesen the next day, just after 1 in the afternoon. Heinrich found himself looking around for Braun, and realized that the man was 24 hours away. With a dissatisfied grunt, he picked up his own baggage from the platform, and carted it over to the rest of his group. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Kiesen." Heinrich cast a sour look about the Bahnhof, one of several in the city. The weather here was much colder than at the manor, although Heinrich hadn't been prepared for the reality of that: his clothes were quite thoroughly inadequate, and he was quickly chilled to the bone. He was not the only one, and he made the decision that among their first stops in Kiesen should be a clothing shop. They selected one across the street from the train station which looked to have a large amount of clothing in stock. Heinrich was unaccustomed to buying clothing premade, but it was a much better alternative to freezing to death. Herr Hintenschloss had the presence of mind to ask about both a hotel, and about the printer's shop at the clothing shop. Although the clothier hadn't heard of the Richtenstein shop, he recommended several worthy hotels in the vicinity, and the advice that the concierge at the hotel would be able to help them with the printer's shop. It was nearly dinner time by the time they had found a hotel, and with the concierge's help, they selected an appropriate restaurant, the improbably named Hauptlinger Fischhaus. Dinner was excellent, as the man in the hotel had predicted, but by the time they had finished and paid the bill, it was nearly 8. The sun had been down since 3 pm, this far north, and everyone seemed ready to turn in. "In the morning," said Heinrich as they were preparing to go to their separate rooms, "we shall meet for breakfast, and then try to find the location of the printer's shop. 8 o'clock?" This was met with general if weary assent, and everyone scattered to the sanctity of their rooms. Chapter n 8 o'clock arrived, and the group met in the hotel's restaurant for breakfast. Over the meal, they discussed the plan for the day. "It seems silly for all five of us to descent upon the printer like a dark cloud," Heinrich was saying. "I think perhaps our time would be better spent on separate tasks." He held his hands up to quell the retort he saw forming on Frau Hintenschloss's lips. "No, aunt, let me finish. "I propose that we divide ourselves into two groups, at least. Gretchen, you and I will visit the printer's shop. You are probably best able to recognize it, and I want to be there to hear exactly what he says. Everyone else, I'd like you to spread out and see what you can discover of a man named Helmut or Joseph, with a dark beard. The more I think of it, the more I think he must have been in the employ of one of father's rivals. You will find that there are pubs, probably in the vicinity of the Techniches Universitaet Kiesen, in old town, where appropriate crowds gather, who may be plied with words or drink." He turned to look at the Baroness de Roseville, who had grown visibly uncomfortable at the words "university" and "pub," and said, "And Baroness, I'd like you to visit your friend. But I have a task for you: see if she has heard of my device. I want to know how wide-spread the news is, particularly among non-technical people." She nodded assent her, visibly relaxing. Christian seemed to be wrestling with something, and finally said, "Brother, do we say who we are?" "Oh. I hadn't thought of that. No, I suppose not, well, not so as to use the von Klausheim name. It would be better, I think, if you were Christian Hintenschloss, on a journey with your father Friedrich. You look enough alike, and the relationship is close enough to truth to withstand all but the most careful scrutiny. Gretchen and I will be mother and son Hintenschloss, which, again, is close enough to reality. Baroness, obviously, you cannot disguise yourself from your friend, and I'm not sure it's required, unless your name has also been associated with ours. In any case, it's not at all suspicious that you should visit a compatriot." The arrangements completed to their satisfaction, breakfast continued with topics more suitable to a polite breakfast gathering. Chapter n Olgermannplatz, the street where the printer's shop was located, was a street of small businesses indeed. It was crowded with little shops above and belowground, with residences above rising to three or four stories. Chimneys along the roofs spewed black coal smoke against the pallid grey sky. The buildings showed obvious signs of too many years of coal-burning, and were a uniform uninteresting grey color. The shops tended toward the small but not too flighty variety, so that it was crowded more with honest entrepreneurs than con artists. The street itself was just barely wide enough for delivery carts, which seemed to make up most of the traffic: deliveries of coal, but also of produce, paper, metal, leather, fabric, wood and a thousand other things Heinrich couldn't determine based on the markings of the cart, or the bulk of the load. Pedestrian traffic was light but steady, a nearly constant stream of humanity, all on their way somewhere. It made his head spin, to think of so many people in one place -- at the manor, there were probably a few hundred people within the radius of a ten minute ride. He estimated that between the people walking and the people living in the residences above the shops, even using fairly conservative numbers, there must be over 5000 just along the length of street he could see. Even Reigenstadt only boasted about 30,000 people all told, and he had come to think of it as a large city. Of course, he knew it wasn't, but the difference between knowing something and truly understanding it was at times profound. They found the printer's shop in a basement space, below a perfume merchant, whose shop exuded a kind of olfactory overload every time its door was opened. Heinrich found himself pleased that the perfumery was heated, so that at least the scent went up out the door instead of down. Herr Richtenstein was not at the counter, and Heinrich and Frau Hintenschloss had to wait several minutes after ringing the bell before someone came out to attend to them. It was, in fact, Herr Richtenstein himself, his hands black with ink, and his hair in wild, inky disarray. "Sorry about that, sir, madame, I was just tending to the press, which had got jammed. How can I help you?" His voice was pleasant, but gruff, as if he'd spent much of his life shouting over a loud noise. "Ah, my good sir," started Heinrich, pulling out the Count's calling card from his pocket, "I was wondering if you could help us determine who had this printed." He handed the card over to Richtenstein, who studied it for a moment. "Why d'you ask?" he said, his attitude suddenly suspicious. "Are you /bullen/?" "I'm sorry?" "Police. Cops. Rozzers. /Bullen./" The printer ran his eyes over Heinrich and Frau Hintenschloss, and he seemed to falter when he looked at the older woman. She was dressed in her finest gypsy-like attire, and looked so little like a policewoman that, even had such a thing existed, Heinrich would have been shocked at the question. Heinrich himself was dressed in a rich-looking overcoat over a frock coat, which covered a brocaded silk vest and cravat over a pressed linen shirt, hardly the attire, he would have thought, of the average policeman. "No, I suppose you're not," said Herr Richtenstein after a moment. "No, we're not police. I have reason to believe that the person who gave me this card was not who he claimed to be." "Oh, you think that, do you? You must be one a them geniuses. That scruffy pestilence was probably not," he consulted the card, "the Count von Ries. I reckon the Count would have been in a sorry state to show up like that." "So, you remember the fellow?" "Yeah, but he was... Let's see, this was about two weeks ago, right?" "I don't know. I received it a few days ago." "Here, how'd you know it was printed here?" The printer's suspicion was fully engaged now. "Are you with the guild? I'm paid up." "No, no, I can assure you, we're not with any guild. I am Heinrich von... er, Hintenschloss, and this is my mother, Gretchen Hintenschloss." "Well, alright." The printer seemed to have missed Heinrich's flub with his name. "Anyway, I don' t rightly know who this fellow was. He paid in cash, and he was scruffy. Called himself Joseph, I think. Said he only wanted a half-dozen, but I had to quote him for 50 or it doesn't pay enough. Said it was for a fancy-dress party, so he didn't need a lot of 'em. I guess he picked 'em up a few days ago, now that you mention it. He ordered 'em a few weeks ago, and left 'em on the shelf for a week. I was starting to think he'd never come, thinkin' I should have charged him up front." He turned the card over once or twice, then handed it back to Heinrich. "He paid, though, and I can't say I'll care if he never comes back." "Was he impolite to you?" "Not as such, I just don't like to be kept waiting like that. Most of my customers want something printed, they order it, and they pick it up soon as it's done. I don't like to have orders sitting around waiting for payment. I'm not running a warehouse here, this is a printing shop." "I'm sorry, you only remember his name as Joseph, that's all he told you?" "Yeah, sorry. That's all he said, wouldn't leave an address or anything." He looked from Heinrich to Frau Hintenschloss again, and said, "Now, if you haven't got printing you need done, I'll take my leave, I've got a jam to finish clearing, and a lot of work ahead of me. Good day sir, madame." "Good day, sir," said Heinrich, turning to go with Frau Hintenschloss trailing silently behind him. "Well, that could have gone better," said Heinrich, once they stood outside again, in the chilly but overpoweringly perfumed air. "Find me some paper, quick!" Heinrich looked down at his aunt's face, which was surprisingly contorted, as if she were in some discomfort. "What's wrong?" he said. "Quit jabbering, and give me some paper and a pen!" Heinrich pulled out his pocket notebook and pencil, and mutely handed them to his aunt. Her eyes flew open, and with a very nearly hungry look, she took them, and immediately started scratching out a drawing on the page. As it took shape, Heinrich could see that it was a good likeness of the man who'd called himself the Count, although his hair was longer and he had a kind of surprised look on his face. As the coup de grace, she hurriedly scribbled a name under the odd portrait: Joseph Wintler. She exhaled deeply, then smiled up at her nephew. "Not a complete waste, I'd say!" she said, laughing a laugh which was near enough to a cackle as she handed the notebook back to Heinrich. "That's amazing! How did you do that? Did you even see this man when he came to visit?" "Heavens no, I was too busy... well, I was too busy with your uncle to have noticed a visitor." She smiled disarmingly, and Heinrich decided not to tread too far down that conversational path. "How, then, did you know what he looked like?" "His imprint was strong on the shop. It was a right bugger to get all that with my eyes open, let me tell you, but I've practiced a little bit. He was deadly impatient while he was there, which left a good, strong impression." Her eyes went down to the sheet, apparently seeing it for the first time. "Quite a mane he's got on him, isn't it." "He was impatient? But why would he be impatient, and leave the cards on the printer's shelf for a week? Or was he impatient the second time he came?" "Oh, he came twice?" They walked slowly down the street, concentrating on the sheet of notebook paper and its crude protrait. "Yes, Herr Richtenstein said he was in twice, once to order, and once to pick up his order. Why does he look surprised?" "Oh, I never said I was a good portrait artist." Chapter n Christian and Herr Hintenschloss, meanwhile, were engaged in an interesting but somewhat unproductive conversation with one of the patrons of /Tasse des Kunstlers/, a public house which stood just outside the gates to the /Technisches Universitaet Kiesen/. He seemed to be somewhat the worse for drink. "And, then, can you believe he had the gall to tell me that my solution was superst.. supersaturn... super.. well, too strong? I measured my portions three times. /Three times./ I got it right. Then, he tapped it, and of course, that's when it blew." He indicated the spot on his face where there should have been an eyebrow. Christian was bored, but Herr Hintenschloss was fascinated. He'd acquired his knowledge and skill by his own work, and hadn't considered the possibility that there was another way to learn things. He was having a hard time pulling himself out of the conversation. "What did you do then? I mean, your solution was clearly supersaturated." "Well, I grabbed the iodine, didn't I. That burn /hurt/." "No, I mean, after that. Did you have to repeat the experiment?" "I could've, but old Gasbags just demonstrated it in front of the class, and we moved on. He said something about my eyebrow and everyone laughed, then he started talking about the interactions of potassium with metal salts." The young man took a healthy pull at his beer, and then appeared to have lost the train of his thoughts. "Tell me, have you done any mecahnical work, so far?" Herr Hintenschloss tried to route the conversation around a bit. It hadn't worked so far, but he was feeling persistent. "And then! Gasbags started talking about, about, this thing... It's an anhyd... anydr.. water-free, anyway, solution. He... It was. Thing." He drained his beer, then sat up with something of an urgent look on his face. "Be right back," he said, stumbling off in the direction of the privy. "Well, that was useless," said Christian, trying to look grown-up. He was doing a surprisingly good job, but he was tall and surprisingly broad across the shoulders for his age. He didn't know that, though and figured he looked like a little kid with a beer in his hand. He wasn't particularly enjoying the beer. The carbonation tickled his nose, and he thought it tasted like drinking essence of old sock. "Yes, I suppose it was. Anyone else look like a likely student?" Herr Hintenschloss cast his glance around the room, which was full of people. Most of them were eating lunch with one or two companions, and didn't appear to be likely candidates to start a conversation with. He was feeling out of place as well -- Herr Hintenschloss was not, by and large, a people person, particularly around crowds of people he didn't know. He was much happier with machines, since he could usually understand what their problems were. "I don't know," said Christian. "Maybe we could go into the University? We're more likely to find a /sober/ student there, I'd think." "Not a bad thought." Herr Hintenschloss drained his beer, and wiped the suds off his mustache with his sleeve. Christian set his beer down with some relief, and they walked out the door, and across the street to University gate. * * * The /Technisches Universitaet Kiesel/ was an imposing place, fronted by a massive wrought-iron gate in a heavy Gothic style. Ornamented spikes and frills dominated in the black metalwork. Beyond the gate, the grounds of the campus were stark, with bare oak trees guarding the entrance to Schmidt Hall, and a variety of structures behind. Schmidt Hall was, itself, a massive tribute to overwrought stonework. Every window was an ornate pointed arch, and most had small panes of stained glass in the curve of their arches. Some depicted butterflies, while some were abstract or geometrical in nature. The main entrance stood behind four massive columns, and was a door of epic proportions: at least 20 feet tall, and made of elaborately iron-strapped oak. It looked like it would be capable of stopping a charging elephant. Herr Hintenschloss whistled his appreciation. "You don't get that kind of architecture down south, do you," he said, inclining his head toward Christian. The younger man wasn't as impressed. "I like von Klausheim manor better," he said, with a distant air. "This is too ostentatious." "Well, you would. That's where you've lived your whole life. Have you been to Kiesen before?" Christian thought for a moment, then said, "I think so, but I was very young. I remember... bright birds? A parrot, perhaps. It's possible we visited the zoological gardens." "Well, they're certainly famous enough. It's said they have at least two of every animal, although I don't see how that's possible." Their wanderings had taken them past Schmidt Hall and into the square behind it, which was fronted by several more severe buildings. There were a smattering of students walking between classes, with their black robes and hats. Herr Hintenschloss thought he spotted a professor just entering a building, but he couldn't be sure -- the professors dressed much as the students did, seen from the back. "Where should we go?" They looked at each other, somewhat at a loss now that they'd exhausted their "let's visit the university" planning. "Where would we find students who are feeling talkative?" asked Christian. "Probably not in a class, they'd be very tense there, I'd think. A pub would be my first guess. Perhaps there are dorms? Although I don't think I fancy trying to find someone by knocking on individual doors." "There must be common spaces," said Christian, thinking of the large common rooms of the manor. "Aye, there's a thought," said Herr Hintenschloss. He hurried up to one of the passing students. "Hey, excuse me, sir, I'm looking for the dormitories?" The young man he'd grabbed by the arm looked at him as if he were a madman. Instead of speaking, he just jerked his thumb over his shoulder, then tore free to continue his brisk progress. Herr Hintenschloss looked where he'd pointed. There, on the far side of the square, was a tall building with "Klein" carved over the imposing door. This one at least wasn't faced with huge columns. He looked at Christian, and grinned. "Shall we, my son?" Trying not to roll his eyes too obviously, Christian replied, "Whatever you say, father." Chapter n Lady Violetta Francesca von Heigen welcomed her old friend with great warmth, enfolding her in a buxom, choking embrace. "Oh, my dear! It has been absolutely ages! What /have/ you been doing with yourself? I got your letter, and of course I was nearly beside myself with joy! Why, you're looking very well, the sunny southern climes must be treating you well!" The Baroness de Roseville actually blushed -- it had been a long time indeed since anyone had praised her beauty so effusively. "Dear Violetta, it /has/ been a long time, I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner, but I'm glad that I'm here now. You're looking fine yourself. Your husband must be treating you very well." "Oh, now, Catherine, he is his usual distracted self -- he hardly comes home from Parliament, and when he does, it's usually to go off on a hunting trip or dine with businessmen from town." The Lady Violetta considered Kiesen, the second biggest city in Bergen, and one of the largest in Europa, to be a town. She pouted briefly, mocking herself, then tapped the Baroness playfully with her fan. "But come, there's no need to talk of men. And please, simply Violet will do, we're old friends." "That's very true, Violet." The Baroness sat back in her chair, admiring her friend. The Lady Violetta Francesca von Heigen, nee von Eisenstein, had been wooed and won by a man 30 years her senior, a ranking member of Parliament, Richard Klaus von Heigen. He was, by all accounts, a well-entrenched insider as far as politicians go, and seemed to be kind to his wife. He certainly kept her in stunning dresses, and her apartments were very well furnished. "What have you been doing with yourself?" The Baroness looked around the room, which was something of a standard-issue sitting room. Lady Violetta picked up her needlepoint out of habit, and started picking out stitches. "I have been living very well. We host a ball here twice a year, I don't think you saw the ballroom downstairs, but it is well-appointed. His Lordship knows how to throw a party -- that is to say, he knows how to let me throw a party." She smiled mischeviously. "In truth, he cares not for parties, and usually contrives to be away on business except during the balls, when his attendance is expected. At the last party, there was quite a stir when the Count von Ries got so drunk he ended up passing out while he was dancing with the Lady von Friedrichsberg. He dropped face-down into her /decolletage/, and the lord von Friedrichsberg nearly challenged him to a duel then and there. Oh, we had a merry time restraining him, but I finally convinced him that the Count was simply the worse for drink, and surely hadn't meant any offence. It was an easy enough explanation, as the Count dropped like a mannequin as soon as the Lady von Friedrichsberg leg him go! Oh, it was most merry." "Violet," said the Baroness, trying to speak calmly, "tell me, what does the Count von Ries look like?" She had given what she thought was probably a visible start when the Count's name was mentioned, but her friend seemed not to have noticed. "Oh, he's a jolly old man, I should say. No hair to speak of, and jowels nearly down to his shoulders. Oh, it was quite a sight! The poor old man, I suppose the Lady is just lucky he wasn't ill then and there. Imagine the mess!" "So, he's an older man?" The Baroness found herself having to insert words with a crowbar into the Lady Violetta's nonstop stream. "Oh yes, I shouldn't dream he's less than 50, more like 70, though of course I don't like to say too closely, that would be impolite. He really is a most polite man when he hasn't had too much to drink. Why, if you could have seen his face when he came 'round! Oh, it was a spectacle, I can tell you. The Countess was none too pleased either, but she seemed to take it all very gracefully. You could tell, though, and I heard later that she scolded him in front of the servants. Quite gauche of course, but you simply can't tell, with some people." Lady Violetta's stream of words stopped for a moment, and she appeared thoughtful. The Baroness missed her chance, and Lady Violetta was off again. "Why, have I told you about the /extraordinary/ marriage proposal Lord Downey gave to Lord Tresheim's daughter? He's down from England, heaven knows what he's doing in Bergen, some kind of trade or another I shouldn't wonder. He seems such a fastidious little man, but apparently he became positively /effusive/ upon seeing her, and proposed for her hand within five minutes of being introduced! Of course, Lord Tresheim wouldn't hear of it, Lord Downey is well-known as an adulterer, why his wife left him not two years ago, and returned to virtual /poverty/ rather than continue living with him. It was quite a scandal at the time, I can tell you, and his stock dropped considerably..." The Baroness tuned her out. She now recalled that the Lady Violetta was capable of gossiping like this for hours on end. She started listening to the patterns, and after about five minutes, was able to time a remark which got her friend's attention. "Violet, I heard the most extraordinary news the other day." "Oh yes, what was that?" Lady Violetta smelled gossip coming her way, but she was about to be disappointed. "It was regarding the son of Lord von Klausheim, do you remember him?" "No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure." "Well, he was apparently working on a device which was extremely remarkable, but no one knew why. Of course, a remarkable device in this age is hardly noteworthy by itself, but this one, people claimed, could make energy from nothing! An extraordinary claim, of course, and obviously patently false." "Oh, you and your devices! They're so boring, although speaking of devices, I am put in mind of my friend, the Baron von Ritterstock, do you know him? He is said to have been involved in a certain dalliance with the daughter of..." The Baroness tuned out again. So, Lady Violetta either hadn't heard, or hadn't cared if she had, about the von Klausheim device. The Baroness tucked this bit of information away, and steeled herself to sit through another several hours of talk about the dalliances of uppper crust Kiesen society. Chapter n Frau Hintenschlos suggested that she was hungry, and would enjoy stopping somewhere for lunch. It was a rare treat to be in so large a city, and she wanted to sample some of its diversity. They selected a restaurant which bore a sign boasting of food from over 17 different nations. It was quite an ostentatious sign, but turned out to be quite correct. There were dishes from all over the world on the menu, and there was a delicious aroma inside when they opened the door. After they'd been seated, Heinrich took out the portrait again, and studied it. "How close is this to what you saw?" he asked his aunt, handing it to her again. "Well, pretty close. I got the eyes wrong, a little bit, but... well, and the mouth. I'm not a good artist, I told ye. Anyway, it's pretty close. He didn't look surprised like that, more impatient and unhappy. Like he had a bad job to do, and didn't want to do it." "Did you get anything else?" "No, his name, which actually came to me after I'd finished the drawing, that was odd. He was impatient. That was clear as a church bell from 50 feet, you could have cut glass with that impatience. His... well, now, he was dressed oddly, too, wasn't he. He had on... it was like a vest, but witih a whole lot of pockets in it. They were full of things, but I don't know what. And his coat was odd, sort of archaic, like it'd been around a long time..." At this point the waiter walked up, interrupting their conversation. Heinrich ordered something called a "pizza," and Frau Hintenschloss selected something Japanese which Heinrich found completely unpronounceable. Once the waiter was away, Frau Hintenschloss looked at Heinrich and said, "Now that we have this, what do we do with it?" She fluttered the portrait against the table. Heinrich put his finger to his lips, and cocked his head slightly. "Did you hear that?" he asked quietly. "I thought I heard my name." "Well, Heinrich's not that unc..." She was silenced by another gesture from Heinrich. "No, I mean von Klausheim." He sat quietly, listening intently. Frau Hintenschloss's face went blank, as if she were concentrating carefully. "Them," she said, quietly, inclining her head to indicate a pair of young men who were speaking quickly and quietly to each other on some subject which caused them great animation. To Heinrich, they looked like gentlemen, not too rich, but certainly not poor. They were dressed well, and had what seemed to be a fashionable cut to their hair, with carefully trimmed beards. If he hadn't heard the term "molecular transfusion" a moment later, he would have dismissed them. Now, however, his interest became intense. Normal Bergans didn't use phrases like molecular transfusion, and he was certain he heard his family-name again. He leaned close to his aunt, and whispered, "Can you tell what they're talking about?" She smiled, and said, "It's magic, dear, not super hearing. They're talking about something technical, I can tell you that." "Yes, I'd gathered that much, thank you," said Heinrich, more bitingly than he would have normally done. He was distracted. This felt like an opportunity to find something out, and he /desperately/ wanted to know what was going on. The conversation continued on the far side of the restaurant, although the space was long and thin, so the pair sat only a dozen feet away. Frau Hintenschloss leaned over to her nephew, and said quietly, "Why don't you just go engage them in conversation. Tell them about this amazing new device you heard about. You can hear rumors, it's ok." Heinrich's face passed a succession of expressions very quickly, but he finally settled on resolute, and said, "That's a fine idea. This is no time for subterfuge. Excuse me." Chapter n The student looked them up and down haughtily, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by the pimples covering his face. "How can I help you... gentlemen?" The young man endeavoured to put a great deal of disdain into the word, and nearly succeeded. Herr Hintenschloss smiled disarmingly (he was, in truth, far more comfortable around people than he admitted), and said, "My son and I are visiting Kiesen, and wanted to see your university! We've heard so much about it. We figured that it would be useful to try talking to some of the students. My son is considering attending when he gets older!" The student stood eyeing them for a moment, then said, "Have you spoken with the Dean of Admissions?" "No, of course we don't have time for a formal tour, and we wouldn't want to impose on his time. We just wanted a quick look around, maybe chat with some folks." The student, who was standing in front of them, presumably trying to look imposing, deflated a little -- this clearly wasn't how he wanted to act. "Oh, very well," he said. "Look, just don't mention that I let you in, alright?" Herr Hintenschloss grinned again. "How could I? I don't even know your name, do I." The young man brightened a bit, and said, "That's true." He went back to sit on the stool he'd been on when they entered, picking up a heavy book and opening it to a bookmark. "Just as well," he muttered to himself, but loud enough to be heard, "I really must revise for the test next week in any case." That hurdle overcome, Herr Hintenschloss and the younger von Klausheim walked at a meandering pace into the massive, dark building, admiring the line of portraits which lined the hallway. Gaslamps burned at intervals down the hall, although even at midday, the hallway was gloomy. Doors branched off at regular intervals, although they were unmarked, with no clue as to what lay behind them. At the end of the hall, Herr Hintenschloss thought he could see a stairway, but it was shrouded in gloom and a surprising distance away. At one door, he stopped, grabbing Christian, who'd been walking ahead of him, to keep him from getting separated. As they stood outside the door, they could make out the sounds of merriment on the other side. With a gruff, "What the hell," Herr Hintenschloss turned the knob, and pushed the door open. Chapter n "I say," said Heinrich approaching the two young gentlemen. They both turned to look at him, their conversation dying mid-sentence. The confidence he'd been hoping to exude seemed to have departed him, but he pressed on regardless. "I... couldn't help but overhear you speaking. I was wondering if you know something about this von Klausheim device I've heard tell of." "Perhaps," said one of them, looking Heinrich up and down. "And who are you to ask?" Heinrich felt himself drawing up with all the haughtiness he'd been taught, then realized that he wasn't using his name. He deflated a little, and said, "Heinrich Hintenschloss, at your service." He bowed slightly. "And what have you heard, Heinrich Hintenschloss?" said the other. "I've heard that it amplifies motion somehow, with some hint that it generates its own energy. I didn't think that was possible!" "It's not possible," said the one Heinrich found himself labelling The Older One. Indeed, they seemed to be about a decade apart in age, the Older One showing a touch of grey in his hair, and the Younger One quite obviously youthful looking. He spoke with a kind of finality that suggested he was finished with the conversation. "So, you have heard of it as well?" Heinrich tried to sound hopeful and submissive at the same time, which was an odd combination, poorly delivered. Alas, young Heinrich was no actor. "We have, now leave us to our luncheon, sir." The Older One was on the border of being surly. "Thank you," said Heinrich, repeating the bow. "Sorry to have interrupted you, good sirs." He walked briskly back to the table where Frau Hintenschloss was sitting. He started to speak, leaning towards his aunt, but she cut him off. "I do have ears you know. The whole restaurant heard, so I hope you weren't trying to quell the rumor." Looking a little sheepish, Heinrich said, "I suppose at this point it doesn't matter." At about this point, their food arrived, and conversation ceased. Chapter n The room in which Herr Hintenschloss and Christian found themselves resembled nothing so much as chaos. Once he could sort out the people from the furniture, Christian was put in mind of a very large sitting room, five times the size of any in von Klausheim manor. The people, however, were something else. It was only early afternoon, yet half of them seemed to have had far too much to drink. They were stumbling around, drinking more, he even thought he saw someone in the corner being violently ill into a bookshelf. Layered on top of this impression was the movement, and the noise. Everyone was shouting and cheering as if attending a football match. Things were being lofted through the air -- food, pillows, things Christian couldn't identify. People were running, or at least moving quickly. People were throwing things. People were falling down. He was surprised that no one seemed to have noticed the two strangers in the room. They were the only ones not wearing scholastic robes, which he felt made him very conspicuous, until he noticed that, in fact, many of them /weren't/ wearing robes. They were wearing black, although he realized, as his senses became more accustomed to the environment, some of them weren't wearing much of anything. He leaned over to his uncle, and said, "What on earth is happening?" Herr Hinterschloss leered at him, then said, "My guess? Party!" He retrieved a fumbled dinner roll, and hurled it with surprising accuracy at one of the gallivanting students. In a moment, he was embroiled in the party, and no one seemed to care. Christian, with the feeling that this was undignified behavior, tried to lean back against a wall and look inconspicuous. This lasted perhaps 30 seconds before someone grabbed him by the arms and twirled him about as if they were in a country dance. Five minutes, after a certain amount of frantic pantomime and tugging at his arm, Christian managed to extricate his uncle from the merry melee. The world seemed to spin and ring as the door closed, and comparative silence returned. "What in the world was wrong with them?" asked an incredulous Christian. "They were just having fun. Lighten up, son." Herr Hintenschloss grinned at his nephew and chucked him on the arm, still feeling the merry spirits of the party. Christian scowled at him. They continued down the hallway, Christian feeling considerably more pensive than he had before, but no more loud doors seemed to be in evidence, and they reached the stairs at the end of the hallway none the wiser. "Shall we?" asked Herr Hintenschloss, indicating the stairs with a sweep of his arm. "I don't suppose we have a choice." "We could go back and try one of the quiet doors. Heavens know what's going on behind them." Herr Hintenschloss's grin was operating at full force. "Let's see if we can find an open area. There must be something other than closed-off rooms in this place." Christian felt like he were the adult in this situation, a new and worrying feeling. He hadn't spent this much time alone with his uncle before. They continued wandering the university campus, but in vain. They found several more parties, and managed to determine that some deadline had just passed, and everyone was off for a break and celebrating, but no one could be pursuaded to speak on the topic of mysterious devices or von Klausheim. Herr Hintenschloss and Christian retired after nearly two hours of wandering, back to the pub they'd been at before, for a late lunch. They hadn't been sitting for two minutes before Christian's ears perked up at what sounded like someone saying "Klausheim." He silenced his uncle, and sat listening intently. This is what he heard: "Yeah, that fool...Doktor Durgenheim paid dearly...device with power...like taking sweetmeats from a...was a credulous fool...von Klausheim, although he wasn't a patch on his father..." It seemed to be someone bragging to a friend, and Christian risked a glance back at the man who was speaking. He had nearly black hair of a fashionable length, but unkempt, and a beard which was well-trimmed along with several days' growth of whiskers. He was wearing a very odd waistcoat, covered in pockets, under a dogeared frock coat of a fairly old cut, shiny with the accumulated grime of years. His friend looked to be of a similar age, although considerably more disreputable looking. Christian was amazed the proprietor let them in, but the one who was speaking seemed to have plenty of cash to spread around. Christian leaned in to his uncle, and said, "Did you hear that?" "Indeed. Durgenheim. I wonder if he means the old madman in that castle up past Neuschwannstein. He's been slowly getting crazier and crazier over the years." "What do you mean?" "You hear stories, that's all. Odd experiments. He sent a tribute to the new king, and I heard it included a finger. Nicely wrapped, but a finger. That's not a normal gift for a monarch. But of course Wilhelm ignored it, since the old madman's a genius." He spoke quietly, to avoid being overheard. The man with the dark hair and beard roared for the waitress, waving his beer stein in the air. "Well... What if he has Heinrich's device? Can we trust this sot?" Christian inclined his head slightly to indicate the dark haired man. "Probably. He doesn't sound smart enough to make anything up. I'd call him a low-grade bully, I knew plenty like him." "Maybe now would be a good time to go back to the hotel," said Christian, as the dark haired man stood up quickly, obviously intoxicated, and spilled his table half across the floor. "I think you might be right, young Christian." Chapter n "That's him!" exclaimed Christian, fingering the sketch in wonder. Everyone had reconvened at the hotel for dinner, and Frau Hintenschloss and Heinrich had told their story first. "What do you mean, 'that's him?'" asked Heinrich, puzzled. The sketch had been passed around the table. "That's the man we heard talking in the pub today! Durgenheim! Well, Wintler could be this one, but he was talking about Durgenheim." Christian looked up with something like triumph on his face. "What? Durgenheim?" Heinrich's face went thoughtful, then he said, "You mean Herr Doktor Durgenheim from Neuschwannstein?" "Yes, exactly. Well, I don't know, but that's what we were thinking, Friedrich seemed to recognize the name." Heinrich turned to look at Herr Hintenschloss. "That was the impression I got," he said, spreading his hands apologetically. "It seems that we've met with success more than once today! What did you hear?" asked Heinrich of Herr Hintenschloss. "Christian overheard this man," he indicated the sketch, "bragging in the pub where we'd gone for lunch. He was saying something about a device, and your name, and Durgenheim, and paying dearly. He said the word magic too, but I think he was using it as a term of mockery. I'm glad we were there, our investigation in the university, while most enjoyable, was not very productive." Herr Hintenschloss grinned at Christian, who more-openly rolled his eyes this time. "Amazing. Do you suppose this man Wintler was in the employ of Herr Doktor Durgenheim? Could he have been sent as a thief? For this is surely the man who told me he was Count von Ries and gave me what I now assume were fraudulent warnings about magical ripples and damage." "I suppose it's possible," replied Herr Hintenschloss. "Well," interjected Frau Hintenschloss, "I don't see that it matters too much. We know Durgenheim's name now. He's a crafty old bugger, it'd be just like him to steel a peer's device and the associated glory. He probably heard about it through the grapevine, and sent this Wintler fellow along to see if it was true. He spotted the machine in your lab after eating your salt and sleeping under your roof, and liberated it with the help of his butler. "And now that we know who has it, we can go get it back." She smiled, a much more grim smile than Heinrich had seen before. "How, exactly?" said the quiet voice of the Baroness de Roseville, who had been silent until this point. "Herr Doktor Durgenheim lives in a castle. We're not living in feudal times any more, but I should think a castle is still a fairly defensible place. We can't exactly lay siege to it." "Obviously we'll have to get in by tact rather than force," said Heinrich thoughtfully. "We shall have to see what opportunities present themselves." Chapter n It was a two-day trip to Neuschwannstein, which was the nearest town to Durgenheim's castle. There were no rail lines which ran in that direction, so most of the time was spent in a hired coach. They'd quitted the hotel the next day, a Thursday, and spent part of Thursday, all of Friday, and part of Saturday travelling. They arrived in Neuschwannstein late on Saturday afternoon, just as the sun was setting. Neuschwannstein was a picturesque but rough town, which was just barely shy of being called a village. There were three pubs and one hotel, although there were several smaller inns. The Baroness insisted on staying at the hotel, being unwilling to subject herself to the comparatively rough conditions in the inns, particularly after their accomodations on the road, which had left her somewhat shellshocked. They dined at the hotel restaurant that night. The ride in the carriage had been largely silent, with Heinrich lost in thought (although he occasionally uttered some exclamation and jotted down a note in his notebook), Christian sullen again, staring out the window, the Hintenschlosses napping sweetly, leaning against each other, and the Baroness reading a book on the flora and fauna of the African continent. This silence seemed to carry over into dinner until midway through the meat course, when Christian spoke up. "Brother, what have you determined for our entry into Durgenheim's castle?" "Quiet your voice, brother. We can discuss it later. How do you find the veal?" Christian didn't reply, feeling the rebuke more personally than it had been intended. Heinrich silently cursed himself, and stoically finished his meal. When they had retired to their rooms, Heinrich gathered them all together in his room to confer. "I apologize for speaking harshly at dinner, brother," said Heinrich. "We are close enough now that we don't know who may be an ally, and who an enemy. It would do us well to be careful how we speak." Christian mumbled an apology, and Heinrich continued, "Now, we have the advantage that no one here knows who we are. We are checked in under the Hintenschloss name -- thank you Friedrich -- and that's as good as being incognito, compared to the von Klausheim name. "It strikes me that the best method for gaining entry will be to assume the identity of one or more people that the good Doktor will be happy to see. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how we are to know that. All I can recall of him is that he has few friends, and many people whom he would be displeased to see. That is where I was hoping that you, Gretchen, might be able to offer assistance." He looked at his aunt, who had been eyeing him keenly. "That's a fine question," she said. "It would help me if I had something personal of his, ideally hair or fingernail or the like. A well-worn article of clothing would be second best. Without something like that, it's doubtful I can divine too much about him. Or, of course, I could get close to him, or..." She trailed off, a far-away look in her eyes. "Aunt? What are you thinking?" "Oh, sorry." She came back to herself, and shook her head. "A friend of mine once described a procedure where she was able to leave her body, and visit distant places with almost no travel time. Astral projection, it's called." "Would that help in this case?" Heinrich's face was full of concern. Leaving one's body sounded like a serious and potentially dangerous business. "Well, would it help if I could wander his castle undetected? Seems likely to me." She grinned again, the far-off look vanishing as if it had never been there. "That does sound helpful, although it may only prove of limited utility in gaining us access to his castle." "Why don't you tell me this, young Heinrich. What are we doing here? Aside from getting inside the old codger's house and having a good look 'round, what are we doing? Are you intending to steal your device back? Are you going to kill him? Have a nice chat over tea? What will you do if he doens't have it?" Heinrich was silent, his face a study in worry. Eventually, he said, "I don't know yet. I would say the first step is to determine if he has the device and the notes. Then we can determine how to proceed. I'd also like to know if he has done anything with them, made any of his own discoveries or improvements." "Well, then that sounds like astral projection is about the right thing, wouldn't you say?" Chapter n Frau Hintenschloss went out the next day to find the supplies she said would be necessary for her to prepare for her astral voyage, although Heinrich protested that all the shops would be closed, it being Sunday. She merely smiled and put her finger to his lips to shush him. She was gone about four hours, during which time Heinrich found himself pacing nervously. He really had not thought past the point of arriving in Neuschwannstein, and found it hard to comntemplate. There were too many variables involved, too many factors in the equation for him to tease out the correct path. His mind had taken its usual default course in the carriage, and he'd spent two days considering scientific problems. They were so much easier to contemplate than human behavior and interactions. Finally, Frau Hintenschloss returned, and she had filled her string bag with things. Heinrich looked on in amazement as she pulled out plants, rocks, bits of wood, a length of rope, numerous bits of discarded metal, and other things he couldn't readily identify. She requested solitude for her preparations, and the rest of the party was banished from her room. "She gets like this sometimes," explained Herr Hintenschloss. "She can't concentrate with all the distraction, you see." The next few hours passed in nervous silence. Heinrich tried to ponder a plan of action, but found his mind inexorably drawn to an interesting quad-lever linkage problem he'd thought of in the carriage. Christian had pulled out a book of poetry from somewhere, and was surruptitiously reading it in one corner of Heinrich's room, where they'd gathered as a sort of default. Herr Hintenschloss seemed to have found a book as well, and only the Baroness seemed bored. "Lord von Klausheim," she said after visibly chafing at the boredom for about 20 minutes, "could I interest you in a game of cards?" Heinrich had of course had no conception that she was bored, and was startled out of his mechanical ponderings. "Why, of course. I apologize, are you without any entertainment?" "No, sir, I have quite finished my book, and find myself at loose ends." She flourished two decks of cards in one hand. "But if you're interested, I can teach you a game that I've come up with. I believe you'll enjoy it, it's quite intricate and requires a great deal of thought." She smiled demurely, and Heinrich found himself smiling back. "Of course, I would be delighted." She spent the next 30 minutes teaching him the very complex rules of her game, and they spent the remaining time playing. Heinrich was fascinated with the game, which seemed to be equal parts keeping track of rules and side-cards, chance, and bluffing. He was startled when the door opened, and his aunt came through, with a smile on her face. "Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, and fell forward onto the carpeted floor. Chapter n Frau Hintenschloss slowly came to, and realized that everyone was gathered around her, looking on anxiously. "What happened?" she said. "You fainted, my dear," said the Baroness, removing a damp washcloth from the older woman's forehead. "Did you already do your astral projection?" Frau Hintenschloss laid her head back, and blew her breath out between pursed lips. "I should say, I did! Quite a voyage too, I can tell you." "I had thought, aunt," said Heinrich, "that you were merely preparing for the effort. I didn't realize you'd actually do it without calling us in." She laughed, then regretted it as pain flared in her head. She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "Well, that's what I thought too, but it ended up happening quicker than I thought, and by the time I realized I should have called you in, I was already flying away. I've never seen anything like it, it was like I was a bird! The ground looks so different from above." She paused, apparently gathering strength, then continued. "I found his castle, no problem. While in the astral plane, walls are no barrier, so I just walked through. Things aren't quite as they are oh the physical plane, and I can tell you right now that there's some evil in that castle. I don't believe I saw Durgenheim himself, but I'm not sure how I'd tell. "His castle has many rooms, and in one of them I think I found your device. It looked different, though. I'm not sure I can describe how, other than that it had more parts than the last time I saw it, and not parts like I've ever seen a man make." She grinned weakly up at her nephew. "I may have been seeing the projection from the machine into the astral plane. "I couldn't find the notes," she continued, "but I didn't see a single book in the whole place. They may not project into the astral plane, or maybe he owns no books. I couldn't rightly say. The astral plane is a fascinating place, if I do say so myself. I'd like to spend some more time there, exploring." A look crossed her face which Heinrich hadn't seen before, and therefore didn't recognize as being the face of an incipient addict. "So, he has my device. He might have my notes -- I doubt very much that the entire castle exists without any books in it, so I believe you're right about books not projecting into the astral plane. What else did you discover?" Heinrich's voice was far away, as he slotted values into the variables he was maintaining in his head. "There aren't many people in the castle. I only saw maybe three other people. I can't tell you what they did, as," here she smiled mischeviously, barely catching herself from chuckling, "clothes don't seem to project into the astral plane, either. Two of them were belowstairs, though, so I have to believe they're servants. The third... no, I tell a lie, there were four others there, five total. Anyway, the other three were abovestairs, but still could have been servants. One of them was probably Durgenheim, he was sitting at a table or desk. [continue description of astral castle] "Did you find his lab?" Frau Hintenschloss paused, rallying her response. "I suppose I did. There was a big room, with a lot of... Well, devices in it. You know, now that I recall it, they had the same odd, unhuman-looking projections off them as well!" "The same as my device? Did they look like my device? How were they different?" "Well, they were smaller for one. Could someone get me some water, please? I'm parched! Ah, thank you." She drank deeply, leaning up on one elbow, then continued. "I couldn't say if they were the same or not, I only recognize the outline of your device, and these didn't look the same, but I didn't see that kind of protrusion on anything else. Perhaps he has other devices which interact with magic? That could be the connection." "It is... possible," said Heinrich slowly, thinking furiously. "I would be surprised, but not too surprised. He has been known to be unstable, and pursue ideas which respectable scientists scoff at." Heinrich covered his face with his hand. "I suppose that, now, so do I." "Don't trouble yourself with that, young Heinrich," said Herr Hintenschloss. "Every revolutionary science was first viewed as madness. Why, the church condemned Galileo as a heretic, and we now know how right he was." "I suppose you're right. In any case, Durgenheim has been known to dabble in weird and unholy things, so a device which interacts with magical energy would not be beyond his purview, I think. Let us pray this is not a /new/ field of study, inspired by my device." "He's only had it a day or two, I should think," said Herr Hintenschloss. "He would have to be prolific indeed to have created new devices based upon principles he had to derive from your device." "Do not underestimate the capacities of a man who is reputed to never sleep," said Heinrich with a wry smile. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this whole business. Herr Hintenschloss said nothing, but his grin faded as he considered the implications. "In any case, young Heinrich, yes, I did find something like a lab. I also found a... well, a stable, or barnyard, or something. There were a number of creatures there, in any case. I found it hard to recognize them, and I don't know if that's because of the astral plane, or some... other reason." She couldn't bring herself to contemplate what a potentially deranged scientist might do with farm animals. "But you say there were few people there?" "Definitely. Only the five. It seemed odd to me, such a large space, and only five people there. von Klausheim manor employs at least 20, no?" "Yes, 19, to be exact." Heinrich unwillingly flashed back to the account books, which were even now nestled accusingly in a pile he'd uncharacteristically made of items to be dealt with. Heinrich's world didn't normally contain a "to-do" pile. "What else did you see there? Anything noteworthy?" "Well, I've never had run of an actual castle, before, so I'm not sure what's noteworthy. There wasn't anything else that made me exclaim about its oddness, though. And who knows what I was and wasn't seeing. If books and clothes don't extend into the astral plane, who knows what else doesn't?" "That's true. Well, you should rest, Gretchen. We can discuss this further after you're feeling better." Frau Hintenschloss gratefully lay back on the bed, and closed her eyes again, dropping immediately to sleep. Chapter n "Lord von Klausheim," said the Baroness, after an unremarkable dinner, "could I speak with you?" "Of course, Baroness, what would you like to speak of?" "I have heard some news of Durgenheim, which I thought you might like to know." They sat in the Baroness's room, in front of the fire. "Would you like a drink?" asked Heinrich, standing up to pour himself some brandy. "No, thank you." "What is your news?" He sat back down, brandy glass in hand, swirling it slowly. "Before we left, a friend of mine wrote to me, and happened to mention what she thought was a most outrageous story, worthy of mention only because of its outrageousness. "She related that a madman holed up in an old castle had created life. She didn't mention Durgenheim by name, but based on what she said, I believe that's who she meant." "Created life?" Heinrich didn't understand what she meant. "Gave life to previously dead flesh. He... created something. She seemed to think it was some kind of animal, but she didn't know for sure. She was outraged that a person who claimed to be a scientist would strive so plainly to displace God from his throne." Heinrich's frown deepened. "That is troubling. I had heard the rumors of Herr Doktor Frankenstein, of course, but no one believed they were true, and there was never any proof. Well, we are in an excellent position to determine the truth of your friend's rumor, at least." He sipped contemplatively at his brandy. "If he /has/ created an abomination against God," continued the Baroness, her face and tone equally pensive, "who knows what else he may be capable of?" She glanced at Heinrich's face, and he found himself wanting to comfort her, a new and troubling feeling to him. "We can only determine that when we get there, I suppose," said Heinrich. "And how do you propose to do that?" "I really don't know. Have you had any thoughts on the matter?" "I have, but they strike me as far-fetched, and I was loathe to bring them up." She smiled, although she was clearly still concerned. "If you truly have had no ideas, I would be happy to relate those which have occurred to me." "I would be delighted," said Heinrich. "Well," said the Baroness, voice suddenly full of confidence Heinrich hadn't heard since their first meeting in Reigenstadt, "the first idea which occurred to me was to impersonate another scientist, and pretend interest in one of his projects. This has the advantage that it shouldn't require much acting skill on anyone's part, since we would, by and large, be playing ourselves. The next," she pulled back her second finger, "would be to impersonate someone who was important, but not a scientist. This would be a viable option if Herr Doktor Durgenheim is averse to meeting other scientists, and may play to his vanity. The third idea I had was to imitate servants or workmen, although that idea is not as fully fleshed out..." She drew to a stop as she realized that Heinrich was holding up his hand. "Of course," he said, "I should have considered those options, but I was so focused on the idea of getting in by force, or at least as an adversary..." He laughed. "It's amazing how differently two people can think." "Indeed, sir, it is. That is a source of strength working in our favor, as I see it." "Tell me more about your first plan. Who would we imitate? What would our roles be in this farce?" Chapter n A new day dawned on Neuschwannstein, with blue skies and a bright if weak sun shining in the sky. Small, wispy clouds trailed slowly through the sky, and a bitterly cold wind swept down through the mountains. In the hotel, Heinrich, Christian, Herr and Frau Hintenschloss, and the Baroness de Roseville were breaking their fast. Christian was in very good spirits, which surprised everyone else. For most of the trip, he had been his normal sullen self. Heinrich remarked on the change. "You seem very chipper this morning, brother," he said. Christian smiled back at his older brother, but didn't say anything. He continued eating his eggs in silence. "Lord von Kl... er, Herr Hintenschloss," said the Baroness, momentarily forgetting that they were dining in a public space, "have you decided on a course of action for the day?" "I have indeed. I have decided that we shall go sightseeing. I've never been to Neuschwannstein before, and I've heard such marvelous things about its beauty. What say you to this plan?" "It sounds like a most delightful plan, sir. I only wonder if we shall be able to find a carriage for hire in such a small town as this." "Well, and if not, we shall simply walk, don't you think?" He beamed at his friends, but all except the Baroness were too engrossed in their meals to pay him any mind. They finished their meal, and after suitable preparations, headed out for their sightseeing expedition. They were, in fact, unable to hire a carriage, so they went by foot. The first stop was the Binnensee, a tiny lake near the center of town, which was frozen over in the chilly air. Several children were taking advantage of the sunny day to skate around the lake, well-bundled against the cold. "What a charming lake," said the Baroness, her arm linked in Heinrich's. "It frames the town most beautifully, I think," he said, eyeing the view critically. "I wish I had my photo apparatus with me, it would make a nice plate." "Oh heavens, we really would need a carriage, then. Those cameras are very large." She looked playfully at him. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, possibly due to the bright sunlight. He grinned back at her. "I have one which is smaller, thanks to some modifications I made, working with my father a few years ago. In particular, we discovered a way to coat paper with the photographic emulsion, instead of glass plates. The result is much less weight to carry around, and obviously the paper can't shatter. It's a bit more fiddly to handle in the darkroom, but represents a dramatic improvement in the field." "You know," she said, her eyes focused in the middle distance, "you could, with a paper medium, store and dispense it from a roll, like a receipt tape from an adding machine. Why, you could take hundreds of pictures that way!" "My dear, what a splendid idea! We must explore it once we get back. But I see that Frau Hintenschloss is in need of more movement if she wants to avoid freezing, so perhaps we had best move on." And move on they did, visiting the Altkirche, the Rathaus, and a scenic overlook which looked out on a splendid valley south of town. Finally, they ran out of town to look at. "Well, what shall we do now?" asked Christian. His mood had faded somewhat, although he was still much more chipper than normal. "I have heard, brother, that there's a splendid castle just east of town, perhaps we should go see it?" Christian looked at his brother as if he'd lost all his sense, but then Heinrich winked very slightly, and Christian understood -- they were putting on a show for anyone who might be watching. Now anyone watching them would know that they were going to the castle, and would assume that they were really just tourists on a bit of a vacation. They walked for nearly an hour before they came to the castle, but it finally hove into view around a corner, sitting precariously on the side of a very steep hill. The road running to it sound around several curves, and it seemed to pop in and out of view as they walked. It was, surprisingly, a very pretty castle. It wasn't the dank hulking building that Heinrich had expected, but rather one of the brightly-colored, confectionary-style castles built in the last 100 years by successful businessmen looking to capture some of the magic of the old castles. These new castles were always much more showy and attractive than a real castle could be, since they owed no alliegance to such petty considerations as repelling a determined enemy. There were more tall, spindly towers than Heinrich thought strictly necessary, but he saw that although there were flagpoles, they were all bare of flags. In fact, as they got closer, it became more and more apparent that the castle had fallen into some disrepair. The white stone, up close, was revealed to be peeling paint. The frilly crenelations and frippery went from looking beautiful and intricate at a distance, to simply appearing overwrought and poorly executed up close. There was a moat with a drawbridge, but the moat was dry, and the drawbridge was down. "Shall we see if anyone is home?" Heinrich smiled back at the tired party. Frau Hintenschloss and the Baroness in particular looked as if they were wilting fast. No one had expected to be walking for an hour, and that was after they'd already spent nearly two hours walking around the town. They walked across the drawbridge, which Heinrich was unsurprised to see was fastened securely down, and likely couldn't be moved. The chain running to the sides was ornamental, and obviously not up to the task of lifting the bridge. Of course, the real clue was that the chains ran to loops set in the stone -- there was no mechanism to pull them in. Heinrich's visions of a defensible castle evaporated. He strode forward when they got to the main entrance door, which was impressively built out of oak. It at least looked sufficient to withstand some abuse. He rapped smartly on the door, and stood back. They stood there for nearly 5 minutes, knocking occasionally, before the door opened, and a very stooped-over butler eyed them through squinting eyes. "What's all this then?" he said. His voice put Heinrich in mind of a frog. "Good day to you, sir. My friends and I have walked here from Neuschwannstein, and find ourselves weary from the journey. We were wondering if we might prevail upon your master's kindness for a place to sit in the warm for a short period, to regain our strength." The old man smirked, and said, "My master's kindness? Hah." He muttered something else to himself that they couldn't catch. "Come on in, then. There's a fire going in the great hall, but no messing about. I'll fetch you some tea." He turned and beckoned them in, stepping back out of the way. He moved stiffly, as if suffering from arthritis in his entire lower body. The door closed with a hollow clang, and they walked after the slowly shuffling man, past closed doors down a large hallway. Gaslamps lined the hall, which had no windows. Heinrich wondered where the gas came from, since they were so far from a municipal center. Eventually they reached what must have been the great hall, a fairly large room with an enormous fireplace taking up the entirity of one wall. There was a correspondingly large table filling the length of the room, and the butler slowly gathered chairs from the table and arranged them in front of the fire. "You sit there, and mind your own business," said the old man. "I'll be back with your tea in a minute." After he had shuffled away, Herr Hintenschloss leaned over to Heinrich, and said, "This hardly seems like the place I'd expect to find a mad genius." He kept his voice low. "Who knows. Madness knows no rules, so who's to say a madman can't live in a puffy cloudscape or a forest? A Neuschloss shouldn't be that surprising." "I'm just glad he's got enough of a grip to have a fire going," said Frau Hintenschloss, extending her hands to the fire, then scooting her seat forward. They sat in silence for several more minutes, before they heard the scraping footsteps of the butler returning. He slowly handed each of them a small china cup and saucer. The tea was only lukewarm. "Drink up," he said, "I can't have you here at lunchtime, the master wouldn't like that, oh no." "Who is your master?" asked Heinrich, trying to be casual about it. "None of your business, young man. You just drink your tea and rest your feet. I'll be back for you in 10 minutes, then you've got to go." "Thank your master for his hospitality for us, please," said Heinrich, lifting his cup of tea. The old man just grunted, then he turned and left. Once the stooped old butler was out of earshot, Christian actually started laughing, an event Heinrich hadn't seen in years. He looked quizzically at his brother until the young man felt compelled to answer the unasked question. "I was here last night," he said, his face wreathed in smiles. "What!?" Heinrich's question was delivered in the voice of someone who wants to shout without waking a child. He composed himself for a moment, then continued, "What do you mean, you were here last night? Why are you giggling like that? How could you have been here?" Christian waved down the questions, then said, "I couldn't sleep. I got up, but I didn't have anything to read, so I decided to go out for a walk in the town. It was very cold, though, and so I stopped into one of the pubs, which was still open. It was warmer inside, and I ordered a warm drink. As I was sitting there, my eye was caught by a woman sitting by herself. She came over and sat with me, and we talked." He paused, his eyes growing misty with the recollection. "Henrietta. A vision of beauty, wreathed in rose petals." He noticed the impatient look Heinrich was giving him, and continued, "We sat and talked for a while, then she said she had to go. I asked where she had to go on this dark and frozen night, and she said, 'back to the castle.' I was intrigued, and must admit, it never even occurred to me whose castle she might be going back to." He paused again, the memories almost perceptibly swirling around him. "And? How did /you/ end up /here/?" Heinrich refrained from clicking open his pocket watch by way of emphasis, but only just. "I didn't want to leave her company, nor she mine, if you must know, brother," said Christian, looking a little offended. "She explained that she was just in town for some supplies for the cook, and had stopped in for a drink before returning in her trap. Supplies acquired, she was headed back once she finished her drink, and she invited me to join her, if I was willing to carry a package on my lap for the trip. I agreed immediately, of course. She threw a blanket over me for warmth (she's so caring, you see?), and we came here." He raised his hands to indicate the castle. "She showed me around, and... well, then she drove me back this morning, early. She said I'd be in trouble if I were found here." "I'm sure that's the case, brother," said Heinrich, drily. "And that's the tale. She's just wonderful, though. Her skin puts me in mind of alabaster, or marble, but warm and delightfully soft to the touch..." He thankfully trailed off and continued through his memories without narrating them. Heinrich huffed in frustration. "But, what about here? What did she show you? Time is running short before we are expelled, brother! This is our chance!" Herr Hintenschloss, who was seated next to Christian, shook the lad by the shoulder, and said, "Come now son, time to live in the present. Your brother's right." "Sorry, right. Yes. Well, let's see." He looked thoughtfully around the room. "That hallway there goes to the bedroom wing. That door back there leads to the servants' stairs. That's the hallway to the front entrance where we came in, and there are studies and libraries that way. The kitchens are downstairs, I think, and there's a ballroom above this room." "No mention of the labs?" "No, but... well, there were doors she wouldn't show me, saying we mustn't disturb them. One of them is downstairs, in a hallway filled with dust except for a path down the center." Heinrich's eyes lit up. "There! That's where I want to go!" "But, it's cold down there! I want to stay by the fire!" "You're coming with me, young Christian." Heinrich stood, and Herr Hintenschloss stood with him. "I'll come too," he said. Heinrich looked back at him, having momentarily forgotten that there were other people with him. "No, please wait here. If we're not back before the butler asks you to leave, say that we went ahead on urgent business, but delay as long as you can. If it comes down to it, you are to leave, and escort Gretchen and the Baroness to safety. Christian and I can take care of ourselves. We'll meet you back at the hotel, if we're separated." Herr Hintenschloss resumed his seat, but only reluctantly. "Very well, young Heinrich. I hope you know what you're doing." "As do I, Friedrich, as do I." Chapter n The stairs down were narrow and ill-lit with candles. Christian stole quietly down two flights, then exited through an unmarked door. This led onto a hallway which was even more poorly lit. Heinrich found that he was disoriented, and couldn't remember which direction they'd come in, although he felt confident that he could retrace his steps if the need arose. The hallway was indeed covered by a thick layer of dust, which had been disturbed by the passage of footsteps, so that a clear pathway led down the hall to their right. They followed this passageway, which led to a large door. It was frightfully cold in the hallway, and Heinrich found himself regretting that he'd left his overcoat behind in the great hall, two floors up. Christian whispered, "This is one of the doors we weren't to open on any account." He looked up apprehensively at the door, which stood quite tall, and was made of what appeared to be solid oaken planks. Heinrich grinned mischeviously. "Let's see what Herr Doktor Durgenheim has kept from his servants." He pushed the latch on the door, and pushed it open. It swung open smoothly and without noise, to reveal what was obviously a yawning open space beyond. There were high windows set in the far wall, but they were tiny, and only served to wreath the entire room in halos of dim light, revealing bulk without detail. Heinrich groped by the door, and finally found what he was looking for: a candlestick and a box of matches. He struck a match, and lit the candle. Its dim light served to deepen the shadows, without providing much useful illumination. He held his hands up to block the candle from his vision, and looked around the lab. "Christian, see if you can find some other source of illumination. I cannot believe the good doctor would work with a single candle like this. Perhaps he has gaslights down here as well. I'll look on this side." They split up, and walked down the walls, looking for the gaslight valve control. Christian found it, on the wall to their left as they entered. He called out, quietly, "I have it, brother." "Turn them up, I'm sure they'll be self-igniting, I think I can see the pilot lamps burning on the walls." Christian did as instructed, but the pilot lamps did not flare into light. Instead, there was a tremendous buzzing, as if the world's largest, most angry insect were in the next room, and suddenly the room was flooded with light. Both men jumped in shock, and Heinrich dropped his candlestick, which went out as it hit the floor. Christian compulsively moved the knob back to its original position, and the lights were exterminated, along with the insect noise. "What the devil was that!?" Heinrich looked up, where the light had seemed to come from. He could see the dying embers of what he took to be cooling metal, attached to a ceiling at least 15 feet (no, 5 meters, he corrected himself) up. There was a faint ticking noise in the silence of the room. Heinrich realized in an off-hand way that the room was nowhere near as cold as the hallway had been. He groped around in the dark, and located the fallen candle. He picked his way carefully back to the table by the door with the matches, and re-lit the candle. He brought his light source over to where Christian was still standing, statue-like, staring at the knob. "Move aside, brother," said Heinrich, pushing the unresisting Christian to the side. He held the candle down to inspect the knob, which was unlabeled. It looked exactly like a control valve for a gaslight system, although it was set out from the wall in a metal box, like a stunted lectern. He experimentally turned it a small fraction of a rotation. The buzzing immediately resumed, although not as loud. Heinrich looked up at the ceiling, where numerous points of light had started to glow a dark, ominous red color. He slowly turned the knob further, and the lights grew brighter as the buzz grew louder, until the whole lab was bathed in an actinic, blue glow. The sound of buzzing was omnipresent, and seemed to pervade the whole room. Heinrich straightened up, his wonder at the buzzing lights overcome by his wonder for what the light revealed. He had barely begun to wonder what he was looking at, when his attention was caught by running footsteps outside the open door. "Who the devil are you!?" thundered a voice. Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss, Frau Hintenschloss, and the Baroness de Roseville sat nervously at the fire, looking at the closing door to the servants' stairwell. "Well, Friedrich, do you think we'll see those boys again?" asked Frau Hintenschloss. "I don't doubt that we will, Gretchen," he replied. "They're resourceful, if Christian can keep his head out of the clouds, and Heinrich can keep his mind on practical matters." "What do you suppose they'll find down there?" asked the Baroness, as she delicately set down her rapidly cooling tea. "Hopefully, they'll find young Heinrich's device, although it'll take both of them to carry it. Better still, they'll find the notes, and we can content ourselves with those. We can rebuild the device once we have the notes, and incorporate many of the improvements we discovered." "I should greatly enjoy being more involved this time around," said the Baroness. "It was with no uncertain envy that I remarked the progress last time, but I felt unqualified to interrupt the process. I hope Lord von Klausheim will accept my assistance." Herr Hintenschloss's grin burned at full brightness as he replied, "I'm sure young Heinrich would be more than pleased to see more of you about the lab. I think he may be smitten with you, my lady." "Nonsense, I'm old enough to be his mother. If Lord von Klausheim wants to be smitten with anyone, he needs to select a younger subject." Despite her words, the Baroness's face flushed slightly, and she seemed to have run out of words on the subject. "Well, I can tell you from personal experience that love knows no bounds of age or class, in the right conditions. I doubt you'd get Heinrich to admit to anything, of course." He smiled to himself, then reached out for Frau Hintenschloss's hand. They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the fire. It was at this point that they heard, or rather felt, the buzzing noise. It was a sound which was so low in pitch that it was inaudible to the ear, but could be felt in the gut. Herr Hintenschloss sat up in alarm. "What do you suppose that is?" As quickly as it had come, the buzzing ceased. He relaxed slightly in his seat. "I don't know, but it feels like power to me," said Frau Hintenschloss, her face tense and alert. "And it certainly provoked someone's attention." As they sat quietly, the three by the fire could hear the slapping of rapid footsteps against the stone floor. They grew louder, then quieter, as if the runner had passed close to the great hall but then diverted some other direction. "Do you suppose our boys are going to be in trouble?" Frau Hintenschloss looked at her husband, who replied, "I can't imagine how they can avoid it at this point. I am torn, my dear Gretchen, between a desire to go help them, and to follow Heinrich's instructions and get you and the Baroness out of here." "Do you really think abandoning those young fools is wise?" she asked, by way of reply. "Not as such, no." He stopped and considered the fire with a distracted air. "Let us wait here, and see what happens. We're within our rights to be sitting here. We can wait until we are forced to take action." "Oh, how stiff I've become, sitting here," exclaimed the Baroness suddenly. "I believe I'll take a turn around the room." She stood, and slowly promenaded around the room, walking strangely in order to stretch out stiff leg muscles. "What are you doing?" The imperious voice came from the hallway, where the butler stood, a slightly rusty but decidedly functional-looking double barelled shotgun cradled under one arm. "Where are the other two?" The Baroness started at the first demand, and stood stock still. "Get back in your seat. No one is to move. Where are your friends?" She moved quickly back to her seat and sat, looking apprehensively over her shoulder at the old man with the shotgun. "I told him you weren't right, you lot," he said, mostly to himself. "Now," he said, much louder, "where are your friends? I ain't asking again." Herr Hintenschloss turned in his seat to face the butler, who half-raised his shotgun. Hintenschloss raised his hands to show that he posed no threat, then said, "They had to return to town on urgent business, and left us here to continue resting. We were to catch up with them in Neuschwannstein. Begging your pardon, of course. If we must go, we must go, but there's no call to threaten us like this." "I'll be the one who decides that," he said, with a sneer on his face. "The master said someone's in his lab, and since there's two of you missing, I'll call it even odds that your two lads are the ones down there. Just stay seated there." He motioned at Herr Hintenschloss with the gun. Friedrich turned back to the fire, carefully keeping his hands on the arms of the chair. "I really must protest, sir," he said, determined to keep up the offended act. "You have no call to be threatening us with weapons. We've done nothing wrong. If you want us to leave, we will, but I insist you put that shotgun away." "And I say that your little friends are here, causing mischief, which makes the master most angry. And when the master gets angry, them as made him angry are like to suffer for it. And right now, friend, that includes you. Stay seated! I may be old and stooped, but I'm still fast enough to drop you where you stand, like a slow pheasant." His leer was fixed now. He walked slowly over to the three, his eyes shifting between the threat of Herr Hintenschloss and an obvious fascination with the Baroness, who was now sitting quite still in her chair, resolutely facing the fire. "Now then, what have we where?" The old butler reached out and ran his strangely callused hand along the Baroness's jaw, who turned her head away at his touch. "Spirited, eh? Just the way I likes 'em. Of course, your spirit will be broken if the master decides you're of use." He was now standing right next to the Baroness, and she could smell the aroma of gin on his breath. Quick as a shot, her fist came around and connected solidly between his legs, and the man sank to the floor, his eyes crossed, and a high-pitched keening noise coming out of his mouth. She stood over him, her breath coming quickly as he curled into a ball around his very private world of pain. Herr Hintenschloss jumped out of his seat, and grabbed his wife's hand to drag her up as well. He leapt to the prostrate butler and picked up the shotgun, which he checked with an expert eye. "12 gauge, and it's loaded. Our man wasn't fooling, but neither were you, Baroness. Well done." She looked quickly at him, her chest still heaving with reaction, and seemed to remember herself. She tucked a stray wisp of hair back into her bun, and said, "It was nothing, my dear Herr Hintenschloss. I don't approve of people judging my spirit, and he was clearly bound for mischief, one way or another." She looked down at the elderly butler, and seemed to consider giving him a kick, but thought better of it. Instead she placed one pointy-toed, solid-looking burgundy boot in front of his eyes, and when he looked up at her, she said, "Next time, choose your victims more carefully," with fire in her eyes. Chapter n "Go on! Show yourselves! My lights didn't turn themselves on, they don't know how!" The man in the doorway was still shouting, looking around the lab for the miscreants who'd been meddling. Heinrich and Christian crouched behind a bench, which was for the moment shielding them from his sight. "What do we do, brother?" whispered Christian, looking fearfully up into Heinrich's eyes. Heinrich, for his part, glanced to each side, and made a decision. "That way, quickly, and quietly." He pointed deeper into the lab. The two young men scrabbled sideways like crabs, trying to be silent with leather soles and clinking pocketwatch chains. The man in the doorway advanced into the room, reaching the light control knob just as Christian disappeared around the corner of a freestanding bookshelf. Heinrich paused, with a dazzled look on his face. There was his device! It looked undamaged! He crawled forward to the edge of the workbench where it was mounted, and reached up to caress one of the iron pipes which formed its outer framework. Christian saw what his brother was doing, and tried to pull him down, but it was too late. The elder von Klausheim stood up, having completely forgotten about the irate man serveral yards away. The shout of "You there!" brought him back to his senses, and he found to his dismay that his arm was clamped in the iron grip of the older man. Heinrich looked into the grizzled, disheveled face, and saw his imminent doom spelled out. "What the devil are you doing in here? Who are you? What did you do to my device!?" Heinrich's reaction was unexpected, even to him. "/Your/ device? This is /my/ device, I'll have you know!" The old man's face changed, although it wasn't a marked improvement over the expressions of anger and bewilderment he'd had before. "So, you're von Klausheim, are you? Well, it's my device now, you should be more careful who you invite into your home." "As should you. Herr Doktor Durgenheim, I presume?" "In the flesh. And you, my young prodigy, are about to find out exactly how mad I am. Don't look at me like that, I know what stories they tell about me. Well, I can put your mind at ease: they're all true." He grinned cruelly, then fell to the floor with a foolish look on his face. Christian lowered the pipe wrench, with an expression of mixed wonder and surprise on his face. They were both surprised when a booming metallic voice called out, "Halt! Who goes there!" from the back of the lab. Chapter n "Now what?" Herr Hintenschloss had the shotgun in his hand, and was standing looking at the felled butler, who seemed to be giving signs he might stand up soon. Herr Hintenschloss didn't doubt that he would be extremely angry in such a circumstance. "Run?" Frau Hintenschloss grinned at him, her spirits immensely lifted by this turn of events. She dashed to the stairwell door where they'd seen Heinrich and Christian go, and they piled down the stairs. She plowed through the next door they came to, and emerged into a poorly-lit hallway which stretched away in both directions. "Which way do you suppose they went?" She looked each way, but there was no obvious sign. "Well," said Herr Hintenschloss, looking up at the ceiling. "I don't suppose it makes any difference, we have a 50% chance either way. Let's go left." So, left they went. The hallway went on for another hundred feet or so, but ended at a door. They'd seen no others, so Herr Hintenschloss went forward, and very carefully tried the latch. It was unlocked, and he pulled the door open. A wave of barnyard smells washed over them, the odors of hay and manure and bovine flatulence. There was a rustling noise from within the room, and he took a step in. At the far end of the room was a Dutch door, but very wide. The upper half was open, letting a wash of backlight into the room, which proved to be full of stalls. Herr Hintenschloss whispered to his wife, "Is this the barnyard you saw?" She leaned toward him and said quietly, "I think so, but it's hard to tell. Everything looked different." She trod softly up to the nearest stall, and looked over the door. The indifferent face of a goat looked back at her, chewing slowly on a mouthful of hay. "Looks normal enough," she said, beckoning her husband and the Baroness over. "See? A goat." Herr Hintenschloss went to the next stall, and the Baroness went across to the other row to peer into a stall. They completed a survey of the yard, and tallied up four goats, six cows, two horses, and a number of chickens which resolutely defied counting. "These look normal to me," said Herr Hintenschloss, standing at the door, so that the light was behind him. "Certainly not abominations against God. What do you think, Baroness?" "I cannot say I am at home around barnyard animals, Herr Hintenschloss, but these look as normal as any I've seen." She was feeling a bit shaky after the adrenaline rush of dealing with the butler, and put her hand on the doorway to steady herself. "You know, this isn't helping Heinrich and Christian any," said Frau Hintenschloss. "I think we'd best be moving on." "Agreed," said Herr Hintenschloss, moving towards the door. "They must have gone another direction." They retraced their steps down the hallway, and past the stairwell door. The hallway continued to have remarkably few doors in it, and ended in another door with blank walls from the stairwell to the end of the hall. "Perhaps this is where they went," said Frau Hintenschloss, her hand on the latch. "Shall we?" "Indeed," said Herr Hintenschloss, motioning her forward. She pushed the latch and pulled the door open, to reveal a very similar scene to the one they'd just left. So similar, in fact, that Herr Hintenschloss momentarily wondered if they'd gotten turned around somehow. There were the stalls, there the chicken coop near the end, the Dutch doors. However, the view out the open door was different, opening as it did onto a stone wall instead of open air. The light was less prominent, but the scene seemed otherwise the same. Frau Hintenschloss, however, seemed to react much differently. "I think this is where I was," she said, making a face as if there were a very bad smell in the air. "I don't reckon these will be the normal barnyard animals..." Chapter n Herr Doktor Durgenheim was still out cold on the floor as the voice rang out across the room. It spoke again. "Identify yourself!" There was a clanking noise, and then a series of thuds, as of something heavy moving across the floor. Heinrich peeked around a bookshelf, and beheld a sight he couldn't really comprehend. It looked as if someone had upended a boiler onto a kind of lever contraption, which he realized now were acting like legs. Spindly-looking brass arms came off the boiler body, and yes, there was a shape atop the boiler as if a head had been placed there. What was this thing!? It spoke again, and broke the spell. "Halt! Intruder!" The head swivelled, and fixed its red-glowing gaze upon Heinrich, who was fumbling back towards his brother, and the pipe wrench he was still dumbly clutching in one hand. "Give me that!" snapped Heinrich. He hefted the wrench, and decided that, yes, he could probably do some damage with it, although he would have vastly preferred a repeating pistol or rifle. He thought briefly of the walking stick he'd left upstairs, with its blackpowder cartridges ready to be fired, then ran, yelling, at the lumbering machine. There was a blur of movement, and Heinrich wasn't sure what exactly happened. Somehow, he was now suspended yards in the air (meters! he thought to himself, somewhat manically), with his arms pinned to his side. He could see the machine's massive feet, standing quite still on the stone floor, and what, for lack of a better word, he would call its belly. He looked towards his feet, and realized that he was suspended in its spindly-looking but extremely strong arms. That was the moment that he recognized the noise which had started a moment before. It was a steam engine spinning up to speed. Something made him look around, and he saw a hitherto unnoticed third arm coming around the machine. Instead of having a pincer like the first two, this arm had a spinning metal disc, which he realized with a growing sense of horror was intended for him. Christian chose this moment to dart forward, fortunately on the side away from the sawblade arm, and tug at his brother's foot. It was ineffectual, Heinrich was well entrapped by the machine, and he watched in a kind of slow-motion horror as the spinning sawblade continued on its arc toward his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Heinrich saw some movement. He ripped his gaze away from the spinning blade, and saw Durgenheim getting groggily to his feet. The old scientist took in the scene, and shouted, "Automaton 4F, halt!" Chapter n Frau Hintenschloss dashed to a corner and vomited, overcome by the aura in the room. The Baroness, with extreme trepidation, peeked over the door of one of the stalls, and found herself staring into the eyes of... something. It was quadripedal, and clearly a mammal, in that it had fur, but beyond that, she couldn't identify it at all. It didn't provoke revulsion in her, but rather a kind of detached curiosity as she tried to work out how it could have evolved, where the branches had occurred among mammals to produce such an animal. "What do you see, your grace?" Herr Hintenschloss eyed his wife with concern, inbetween glances at the Baroness to see how she was reacting. He was evenly torn between comforting Frau Hintenschloss and investigating the contents of the stalls. Finally, his allegiance to his wife won out, and he crouched beside her, tenderly smoothing her hair. "It is a quadruped," said the Baroness, studying the animal dispassionately in the dim light. "It puts me in mind of a sheep or goat, but larger, and with odd features which I can't place. It is very well muscled, like an ox or a horse, but not so large. It seems to be an herbivore, or at least it seems content eating hay at the moment." The beast looked back at her with curious, square-pupilled eyes and an unsettling appearance of intelligence. She broke her gaze on the creature, and moved to the next stall. There was a similarly misshapen animal there, lying down on the ground. Its body was oddly wide, and it lay on its belly. It put the Baroness in mind of a snake or a lizard. Its back curved wrong for a mammal. "This one," she said, "is also a mammal, and a quadruped, but its spine is built incorrectly, it bends sideways, like a lizard. And it..." She trailed off as she looked more carefully. "It seems to be feathered. I wonder if it's a cross-breed with a bird?" She unlatched the door to get a better look, and was surprised when Herr Hintenschloss's hand appeared and pushed the door closed again. "I think that, until we know what exactly we're dealing with, it would be wise not to put ourselves in too much danger. These would seem to be creatures created by a madman. Who knows what surprises they may harbor." The door clicked closed, and as if to emphasize his words, the reptilian-spined mammal in the stall suddenly launched itself at the door, crashing into it with considerable force, then making a kind of hissing noise. Had she ever seen a live one, the Baroness would have been put in mind of a crocodile. She moved back hesitantly, surprised by the crash, but not startled as Herr Hintenschloss would have expected. "Have you worked with dangerous animals before?" he asked. "No, not as such. My father took me to the zoo when I was a child, and I was delighted by the animals I saw, the tigers, and the sloths, and the elephant. It's been a long time. This feels the same -- they're safely locked up in cages, and nothing can harm me." She spoke with a dreamy look on her face, and a distant edge to her voice. "You'd best come back to the here and now, your grace. These are dangerous animals, they're /not/ locked up in cages, and a great deal of harm can come to you. Look at me." He grabbed her by the shoulders, and twisted her around until she was looking at him. "Do you hear me? We are in danger, and you must act like it. Your life and ours depends on it. Do you understand?" The dreamy look passed, and she said, "Yes, of course, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. Your wife, is she alright?" Frau Hintenschloss had stood up, and was walking unsteadily toward them. Herr Hintenschloss looked back at his wife, and with a start, dropped his hands from the Baroness's shoulders to grab his wife's shoulders. "Gretchen?" His voice sounded extremely worried, and the Baroness could see that something was wrong. "Gretchen? Gretchen!" He slapped her across the face, and she nearly snarled. Herr Hintenschloss looked up at the Baroness and said, "Go, now. Go back to the hallway, I'll bring Gretchen. Something is not well about this room. Go!" He reached out and pushed her toward the door. Around them, the animals stirred and started making noise, a cacophony of strange sounds which were like something out of a dream, out of a nightmare. The Baroness ran toward the door as the light seemed to leak from the room. Chapter n With a suddenness that shocked Heinrich, the machine clutching him stopped. He could hear the steam engine spinning down, the sawblade slowing as well, until, fixated on the spinning disc, he saw it lurch to a halt. Heinrich raised his eyes to look at Durgenheim, who was apparently waiting for him to do just that. "So, Herr von Klausheim," started Durgenheim. "Lord," interrupted Heinrich. "What?" "I am the Lord von Klausheim, sir. It would do you well to remember it." "Well, whatever you call yourself, I see you have met one of my automatons. This is Automaton 4F. I'm glad he was reacting slowly enough that I could stop him. That was very foolish of you." "And building giant killing machines is somehow /not/ foolish?" replied Heinrich, with all the hauteur he could muster. "My dear friend, you are currently in the grasp of the future of war. The automatons are impervious to bullets, or can be easily made so, strong as dozens of men, do not fatigue, and are smarter than most foot-soldiers. How is it foolish to work on something as noble as this?" He grinned charmingly, his face oddly inconsistent with the words he was speaking. "In any case," he continued, "their utility need not be limited to the battlefield. As you can plainly tell, they can also operate in a guardian capacity, as well as any other task requiring strength and intelligence. They are not, alas, very refined yet, but I only recently acquired the final key to my puzzle." "Oh yes, and what's that? Tell your device to let me down, I have no wish to be cradled like a babe to some steam-powered nanny!" "Automaton 4F, let the man down, foolish though he may be." The hulking brass and copper machine lowered Heinrich to the floor, dropping him somewhat unceremoniously on his side. It stood up again, and now Heinrich could discern the clanking of levers and the whirring of chains and geartrains. The device now stood completely still. "What is the key to your puzzle, Durgenheim? What unlocks the secret of destruction upon your fellow man?" Heinrich was trying to reign in his anger, but not doing a very good job. "Why, I thought you knew. The problem has always been fuel -- how to carry enough of it, how to store it, how to supply it, later, when we have my automatons in the field. Fuel was the limiting factor, my Lord." He smiled again, and Heinrich could see something unpleasant in his expression, but couldn't place what it was. "Very well, fuel was a problem. How was that the key?" "You really don't see it yet? Your device, of course." Heinrich gasped, and his face went slack as the pieces clicked into place. "With your magical amplification device, the fuel requirements could be cut to one tenth of their previous value. With refinement, I believe I can get the ratio even better." Heinrich's face had gone from slack to growl, and he launched himself at the old man, or at least tried to. His arm was nearly pulled out of its socket, and he felt bones grinding in his wrist. He fell to the ground, his arm still suspended in the air by the pincer on the automaton's arm. "Ah, I see Automaton 4F has improved his reaction time. One of they key innovations, you see, was that they are self-improving. 4F is an early prototype of that invention, but he does it fairly well. The later models are showing distinct promise." At this point, the pincer let go of Heinrich's wrist, and he fell to the ground. The machine took two steps back, and stood still. "Of course, it doesn't work perfectly. Sometimes the programming goes a bit wrong." Quicker than he would have expected, Herr Doktor Durgenheim was upon Heinrich, lifting him off the ground. His wild face pressed in close to Heinrich's, and the old scientist said, "You can call me whatever you like, but I am building the future. It will be steam-powered, and it will be amplified by magical energy, thanks to you. You have done me an incalculable favor, young man." Heinrich found himself spun around, and Durgenheim stalked off to a nearby workbench. Heinrich caught up with a bit of the conversation he'd missed earlier. "Wait a minute," he said, massaging feeling back into his abused wrist, and walking towards Durgenheim, "how did you know my name? I'm quite certain I never spoke it!" "Come now, my Lord, any fool could connect your name to you. Your invention is stolen, you immediately go on a trip to Kiesen, where my henchman is known to live... I can tell you, it took quite an effort to get him in the same pub as your idiot brother, although he was more that pleased to brag about his exploits, believing he'd bested me financially. That young fool Wintler has no idea what he stole, nor what it means to me. It would have been a bargain at thrice the price. It is the lynchpin to all my future endeavors!" "Wait, you /wanted/ us to come here!?" Heinrich looked back at Christian, who'd been following the exchange mutely from where he'd been standing. The young man had no reaction, still not following exactly what was going on. "What do you plan for us, then?" "Why, I plan to use you, my good Lord. Your mind is no match for mine, but you have useful ideas, and if given a suitably simple task, I believe you'll be able to work out the necessary details to achieve a satisfactory conclusion. Your friends may or may not be useful, I don't yet know enough about them." [note for future: 4F is a human brain in a robot body; at least one of the magical animals also has a human brain] Heinrich sneered. "What makes you think I will do anything for you?" "I imagine the safety of your friends will be a sufficiently motivating factor, but if not, I have certain, very persuasive techniques I can employ to bring you to heel. Do not cross me, my Lord." The deranged old man put a particularly unpleasant emphasis on the word "Lord." Heinrich stood, looking at Durgenheim, momentarily at a loss for words. Christian took this moment to interpose, "I am /not/ an idiot!" from the far side of the room. He strode forward, suddenly looming much larger than either Heinrich or Durgenheim would have imagined was possible. He positively bristled, and Heinrich realized that although he was young and foolish, Christian was also large and imposing. And now he was angry. "And you have no right to impose your will on us! We are here as your guests!" Durgenheim turned an amused look on the young man. "Really? Do guests go where they are not wanted? Do they snoop around like the worst sort of gossip, looking for trouble? Well, my man, you've found it. I am not the worst thing to happen to you, but I'm not far from it." With that, Durgenheim raised his arm in the direction of the apparently slumbering automaton , and said, "Automaton 4F, net! I am tired of this conversation!" Heinrich turned just in time to see a network of white cords expanding rapidly in his vision. Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss dragged the limp body of the Baroness de Roseville into the hallway, and set her gently next to his unconscious wife. The Baroness had gone down on her own, but he'd actually had to clout his wife on the side of the head to stop her attacking him. He looked at his left shoulder, which sported a nasty bite wound that was now slowly oozing blood. The menagerie in the stalls had gone wild, braying and hissing and stomping as if there were an adder amongst the horses in a normal barn. He thought he might have gone deaf from the noise, and was only distracted from this when his snarling wife had sunk her teeth into his shoulder. In the hallway, it was quiet and cool, and Herr Hintenschloss leaned back against the stone wall. He heaved a quiet sigh. "Well," he said to no one in particular, "that could have gone better." He sat for several minutes, in the dark and cool hallway, until his heart had calmed down, and he no longer felt as if he were about to boil over. Neither woman seemed to be about to wake up, so he walked quietly back into the stable, to see what he could see. There in the first stall was the animal the Baroness had described, now calm again, happily chewing on a bit of hay. It looked back at him with its curious eyes, and an expression of surprising intelligence on its face. His shoulder gave a twinge as he raised his hands to rest on the top of the stall door, and he lowered them again. The animal continued to observe him, seeming to size him up. He turned away, disturbed by its gaze. The next animal was indeed odd-looking, curled sideways around itself, its spine bending in the wrong direction. It seemed to be asleep. He moved on to each of the stalls in turn, observing a collection of animals which looked as though they'd been assembled from a kit for normal beasts, only with the parts all mixed up. Here was a thing like a horse, but with wooly fur and a feline head. There was a dog-like creature with the dull expression of a sheep, and a skin bare of fur. None of them seemed to produce in him the kind of reaction either woman had suffered from, and he wondered at that. After five minutes of quiet, disturbed observation, he returned to the hallway, where he was greeted by empty space where he'd expected to find two women. Chapter n The old butler cast a sullen glance at the group, which was assembled on dinner chairs, their arms and legs securely tied. Heinrich, Christian, Frau Hintenschloss and the Baroness sat, with varied but universally unhappy expressions on their faces. Herr Hintenschloss was not with them, and Heinrich wondered at that, but decided it would be best not to say anything. They were back in the great hall. Heinrich and Christian had been scooped up in the weighted net fired at them by the automaton, and held aloft as if they were two fish. Heinrich didn't know where the two women had come from, and hadn't had a chance to ask. They'd only awoken moments ago, when the butler delivered a stinging slap to the face of each of them. "What do you want with us?" asked Heinrich of the silent butler. Durgenheim had disappeared from his view in the trip from the lab in the basement to this room. Heinrich had been darkly amused to see that Automaton 4F couldn't fit through the lab door, and had only been able to carry them as far as the hallway. There they had been suspended from poles, and carried on the shoulders of two servants up to the great hall. Although Heinrich had considered struggling, he saw that the butler was ready with his shotgun, and didn't look as if he needed much excuse to pull the trigger. The butler didn't say anything, but instead turned away. Herr Doktor Durgenheim, which Heinrich hadn't previously been aware of, detached himself from a wall at the far end of the room, and walked slowly towards the group. "As I explained to you before, my Lord von Klausheim, you will prove useful to me," said Durgenheim. "If you are not useful to me, we will dispose of you. It's a simple situation, and one I think you will find to your benefit to join me in." The rogue scientist turned his back on the group. His hands were clasped behind his back, as if he were giving a lecture to a group of unruly students who might benefit from his calm example. "Your first task is one I think you will find agreeable: you will be working on refinements to your amplification device. I need it to be more efficient, my Lord, and if you are unable to achieve my goal of a two-fold increase in efficiency in... one week, let us say, then this dear lady," he whirled around and grasped the Baroness's chin in his hand, "loses the pinky from her left hand. It's a simple expedient, of course, but I've often found that the simplest solutions are the best. Don't you agree?" Durgenheim looked at Heinrich with an innocent expression on his face, and dropped his hand from the Baroness's taut, frightened face. Heinrich said nothing. "Now then, my Lord von Klausheim, I do hope you'll cooperate with me. Just in case you have decided /not/ to cooperate, I hope you'll understand that Automaton 7A will be your constant companion." He turned to look at the butler. "Gustavus, bring in Automaton 7A, will you?" The butler turned and shuffled out, leaning his shotgun against the wall as he departed. A minute later, he shuffled back in, walking behind the most impressive thing Heinrich had ever seen. Automaton 7A was a sleek, human-sized machine, with an oversized head that made it look slightly cartoonish. It was burnished copper, with copious and surprisingly detailed accents in polished brass. The head sported a trio of glinting glass lenses, one of which glowed red. There was no nose, and where a mouth should have been was a triangular grille. It was wearing a correctly-sized military officer's cap that would have swallowed Heinrich's head whole. It carried four arms, versus the normal two, arranged like an Indian goddess. Heinrich could see that the upper arms had no hands, but rather curiously intricate shaft-ends. The lower arms carried three-fingered pincers. Its two legs had been supplemented by a third, and as Heinrich watched, it swivelled about its waist. The legs were intricately jointed to allow movement in several axes, and terminated in large, serrated pads, covered in ornamental black-and-white laquered spats. It walked with an odd gait, occasioned by the three legs, and Heinrich could see gouts of steam escaping from actuating plungers arranged along its body. Perhaps its most striking feature, however, was the belt of tools it seemed to be carrying, below the swivelling part of its waist. It used this now, plunging the oddly-terminated upper arms into the belt. The arms emerged carrying what were, without a doubt, repeating firearms. Heinrich jumped as the firearms, which resembled large revolvers, were swivelled his direction, and came to a sudden and unnatural stop, pointed at his chest. "Lord von Klausheim, meet your new friend, Automaton 7A. I suggest you become close friends indeed, as 7A has been assigned to be at your side at all times. If he sees you doing something he doesn't think is appropriate, he has been ordered to shoot you. You get one warning shot, which will only damage a leg or arm, and the next shot will be fatal. You'll find that his aim is impeccable." "This is madness!" Heinrich cycled his gaze between the scientist and the metallic creation. "You can't expect me to work under these conditions! In any case, your timeline is improbable, I should have to be the most efficient person in the world!" "Well, my Lord, I suggest you begin now." Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss stood quite still in the passageway. He'd been creeping around the castle, avoiding any bright or large passageways, for the an untold number of hours. He'd lost track, although he'd pulled out his pocketwatch several hours ago and realized it was early morning, so it must have been for more than half a day. He'd snuck into the kitchen and absconded with a leg of turkey (he hoped it was a leg of turkey), and a bottle of beer, which he'd consumed quietly in a stairwell. The castle was oddly unoccupied. Herr Hintenschloss was unsure how exactly a castle was supposed to be, but he was pretty sure it involved more people than he'd seen so far. He'd only been afraid of detection twice, once when he'd seen the shuffling butler walking down a hallway, carrying something in a cloth bag and mumbling under his breath, and another time when a surprisingly young girl pushing what appeared to be a basket of laundry on wheels had happened around a corner just as he approached it. He'd hidden in a dim doorway as she passed, and he was amazed she hadn't seen him. What he hadn't seen yet, and this worried him, was his friends. But he'd been unwilling to randomly open doors, and it was almost certain that they'd be shut up behind one of the hundreds of doors in the place. He was surprised that no one had been searching for him (or that, if they had, he'd managed to so completely elude them). Still, he figured, this was a better situation than it could have been. He could only assume, at this point, that everyone else had been captured (he tried not to think of the possibility that they were dead). He was still at liberty, which made him a likely architect of their escape. Now, he just had to figure out where they were. He finally steeled himself, in one of the upper stories which seemed to be little-visited, and opened a door. The hallway was well-layered in dust, which didn't look to have been disturbed, except by him, in quite some time. The room beyond the door had the look of a bedchamber, although it was bare of furniture, stacked instead with a few boxes and a writing desk. The windows on the far wall were dark, as it was still night outside. Herr Hintenschloss walked in, and shut the door quietly behind him. Now that he was in the room, he spotted some possible furniture, covered over with white dustcovers, so that they were more ghosts of furniture than furniture itself. He pulled the covers to reveal an armchair and a full-length looking glass, and a third was whipped away to reveal a sort of armoire which was severely scuffed and bruised by someone's ill treatment. He glanced at himself briefly in the looking glass, and was unsurprised to find that his frock coat was covered with dust and grime, his shirt was a travesty, and his trousers had been ripped in several places. His top hat had disappeared some time in the night. His hair was mussed, although it was sufficiently greased that he was able to smooth it back down without too much trouble. The armchair suddenly looked immensely inviting, and he sank gratefully into it, draping the dust cloths over himself against the chill in the room. Within a minute, he was sound asleep. Chapter n "I really must protest, Herr Doktor Durgenheim." Heinrich was trying to be polite, but the old scientist was not making this easy. He lifted his left arm, which caused the heavy manacle to clank and tinkle on its chain. "How you expect me to perform any meaningful work while chained to my workbench is quite beyond me. If I cannot move about, I might as well not be able to work. You have your automaton guarding me, pray lock the door behind you and at least give me the free roam of this room." Heinrich was chained to a long workbench in a small room, perhaps a quarter the size of the lab he and Christian had discovered in the basement. It had obviously been quickly set up, with tools and supplies piled willy-nilly about the room, just in reach of his chain. Automaton 7A stood silently to the left of the door, its head swivelling to watch Heinrich's movements. Durgenheim looked appraisingly at him for a moment, then said, "Very well, between 7A and the lock on the door, I doubt you can do too much harm here. Remember that 7A has authority to shoot you if you do anything he deems inappropriate, my good Lord. There is no judge, and there is no jury. Your life, and the lives of your compatriots, depends on your good behavior here." He produced a ring of jingling keys from a pocket, and unlocked the padlock which had secured the manacle to its chain, but he left the manacle fastened about Heinrich's wrist. The old man smiled dazzlingly at Heinrich. "Good luck!" he said, then swept out of the door, which closed with a click of finality. Heinrich looked down at the collection of tools, parts and papers with something approaching despair. He'd convinced Durgenheim to return his notes to him, so that he stood some chance of completing his task, but he had no device on which to work. The mad old man had said something about working out conceptual models when Heinrich had protested. He sat heavily on the stool he'd been given, and cradled his head in his hands. The task of improving the efficiency of the thaumic amplifier was certainly something he could accomplish, given enough time, but a week was ludicrous. He'd expect to reasonably accomplish the task in a month or two (although he would also expect that this time would result in more than a two-fold increase in efficiency). Although... He grabbed up a pencil and started scribbling, inspiration having struck as he considered the situation. Heinrich was thus engaged when he became aware of a rapid and persistent tapping noise. It wasn't coming from him, and it didn't seem to be the automaton, which made only the slow chuffing noise of a steam engine idling over every few seconds. He looked around the room, but could see no likely source. He decided it was unimportant, and looked back to his notes to see where he'd left off. That sprague arm could be lightened... The tapping changed in tone, became louder and more insistent. Suddenly it stopped, and Heinrich stopped writing. In the sudden silence, he thought he heard a voice. He looked around. There was no one to speak, unless Automaton 7A had suddenly developed a programming fault. He looked back down, but there was the voice again. With a cold shock washing over him, he realized that the voice was saying his name. "Who is there?" he asked, quietly, hoping that the metal man by the door wouldn't take this as a sign of unacceptable behavior. The voice said, just on the edge of hearing, "Friedrich." Heinrich tried to keep his face impassive, although this was no mean feat. He hadn't seen Friedrich in nearly two days, and had assumed that his uncle had been either captured or killed in that time. His only hope had been that Durgenheim hadn't confronted him with the capture or the kill, and he seemed like the kind of man who would use such an event to his advantage. "Where are you?" Heinrich kept his eyes firmly upon his notes. The tiny voice said, "Brain." Heinrich closed his eyes, suddenly fearing he was going mad. Quietly, he said, "You're in my brain?" The voice repeated itself, but this time it sounded a little different. Now, it sounded like, "Drain." Heinrich looked down at the floor, and without trying to be too obvious about it, elbowed a screwdriver towards the edge of the table. When it fell with a clatter, he slipped off his stool and made as if he were looking for it. After a moment's looking, he found a small round drain grate in one corner of the room. He looked back up at the automaton by the door. It was watching him intently, but hadn't yet made any motion to fit the firearms to its versatile upper arms. He knelt down by the grate, and said, very quietly, "Friedrich?" A jovial voice returned, "How are you, my lad. It's been a while." "That's one way of putting it. Have you been captured?" "Not yet. Haven't seen anyone looking for me yet, to tell the truth. Do they know about me?" "I don't know. I don't think so." Heinrich glanced back at the automaton, which was still standing in an attentive pose by the door. He turned back to the grate. "I'm captive in this room. Christian, Gretchen and the Baroness are being kept somewhere else, I don't know where. He's forcing me to improve upon my device. Do what you can to get us out of here, but beware! He has steam-powered man-machines he calls automatons, and they seem quite deadly. I don't know how to stop them without weaponry." Heinrich nearly jumped into the air when a shocking voice intoned, "Return to your workbench." He looked up at the automaton, which was advancing towards him slowly. Heinrich raised his hands in a submissive gesture, and stood up. The automaton backed to the door, once again standing still. Heinrich walked back to the bench and sat down again. Chapter n In a room, as it happened, only one floor and one wall removed from Heinrich's new work chamber, the three captives sat. Herr Doktor Durgenheim had been reasonable enough to them, giving them a room with furniture, after a fashion, and a washbasin, and a barred window. He seemed to have no compunctions about locking up a man and two women in the same room, which struck Christian as highly improper, and a sure sign of the old scientist's madness. They were sitting at the little table near the window, trying to concentrate on their card game. It had taken some time to think of a game which would be sufficiently absorbing, but didn't require a fourth player. The Baroness had broken her accustomed silence, her eyes concentrating on the cards, but her mind obviously concentrated on the situation they were in. "What do you suppose the good doctor will do with us?" she asked of no one in particular. "Not much he can do," replied Frau Hintenschloss, picking up a card from the table and laying out a trick. "That's three to you, dear," she said to Christian. "Yes, but suppose Lord von Klausheim really can't do what he wants? Do you really think..." She couldn't quite bring herself to name the torture the old man had mentioned. "He'll cut off your finger? Can't see why he wouldn't. The man is obviously off his rocker. You saw those animals, those were no creation of God." Frau Hintenschloss said it so matter of factly that the Baroness couldn't help conceding the point. "I won't let him," said Christian valiantly, turning his shining eyes on the petite figure of the Baroness. She looked up at him and smiled, but this didn't seem to calm her spirits. "Now, lad, I doubt there's much you could do if Durgenheim gets it in his mind to do something. You saw his machine there, that thing'd kill you as soon as look at you, and I bet it's fast as a cat." Frau Hintenschloss smiled at Christian too, but with more compassion and less fear than the Baroness had shown. Christian's zeal subsided, and he picked up two cards from the table. He turned to the Baroness to indicate that he was done with his turn. He frowned at his cards, but didn't say whatever matter was on his mind. "We should have left word with someone in Neuschwannstein to expect us back by a certain time, and come investigate if we didn't return," said the Baroness, examining her cards wistfully. "There are many things we should've done," said Frau Hintenschloss gnomically. With a much less certain show of stoicism, she continued, "Do you suppose they've found Friedrich yet?" After an uncomfortably long pause, Christian finally said, "It seems likely that we would have heard about it either way, aunt. Durgenheim would probably try to use that against my brother, or us, if it happened. I think we have to assume that a lack of information is good, in this case." "I suppose you're right. I just dislike the uncertainty of waiting. Even to know that he's dead would be better than knowing nothing." Christian tried not to notice the tear slowly tracing its way down his aunt's face. "Still," she continued, with a new strength in her voice, "we can't help him out by getting all maudlin, can we?" She smiled bravely, and the illusion was only broken when she sniffled suddenly. Christian put his hand on her shoulder, uncomfortable in this role of providing to comfort to someone from whom he was more accustomed to receving it, and said, "I... I'm sure he's fine. We'll probably be out of here before nightfall, thanks to him." "Yes, Frau Hintenschloss," said the Baroness, setting her cards down on the little table, "there's no value in worrying ourselves needlessly. I agree with Herr von Klausheim that this Durgenheim would have told us, indeed, lorded it over us, if your husband had been captured or killed." "You're right, of course, Baroness, Christian. Thank you. Let's continue with our game, shall we?" Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss had not, in fact, been captured, although he'd had several very close calls now. Someone noticed the missing food from the kitchen, and the few people who inhabited the castle seemed to be much more alert now. They didn't seem to have decided there was someone else around, but he didn't figure he had long before they figured it out. He now knew where Heinrich was being kept, and the master of the castle seemed to be leaving Heinrich in that work room day and night, with only a small pile of straw and a thin blanket for his bed. However, he hadn't been able to locate the other three, and this worried him. His sleeping room hadn't been discovered yet, so he'd made it his base of operations for now. It was a story above Heinrich's room, but nearly on the other end of the castle. Its window looked out over the valley north of the castle, which was a patchwork of snow and rock and trees. He'd been able to access Heinrich's drain via a crawlspace which was mostly occupied by drain pipes, cobwebs, and mouse droppings. It seemed to afford a reasonable path across the width of the castle, and he assumed there were others, although Heinrich's drain, by chance, had been the only one with a detached pipe. He'd been checking it out when he heard his nephew's quiet mutterings. The drain grate wouldn't budge, but he'd been able to at least talk into the room a little. Friedrich consulted his pocket watch. It was nearly 4 in the afternoon, and the light would have disappeared outside by now. This made it safer to move about, since people would be blinded by their lamps and candles, although he was still surprised at the lack of people in the castle. He hadn't seen any of the man-machines Heinrich had warned him against, and found that he was somewhat disappointed. They sounded fascinating, although he also thought they sounded impossible. How could you make a thinking machine? He could imagine a very complex machine that could do math on its own, but performing sums was not the same thing as making intelligent decisions. It was as Herr Hintenschloss was traversing what he'd started to think of as the third floor back crawlspace and thinking these thoughts that he came across voice. He stopped in his tracks, brushed a cobweb out of his face, and listened intently. He couldn't make out words, but could discern two voices. They were discussing something in fairly neutral tones. Two men. He wondered if one of them was Durgenheim: Herr Hintenschloss had not yet seen the old scientist, although he'd gathered a bit about him from his wanderings. As he listened, the voices came closer, and he thought he could make out the odd word. Yes, there was Neuschwannstein. And perhaps "brave." That might have been "supplied." He got a sense that one person was more or less dictating a shopping list to another. Perhaps this was the butler sending a footman out on a shopping errand. The voices faded away, and he was left in silent, chilly darkness. He continued his traversal of the crawlspace. He didn't know what he would find, exactly, but anything was better than sitting around waiting for something to happen to him. Chapter n Heinrich was engrossed. He was scribbling furiously, and glancing at the object he held in his hand. It was a piece of pipe, with complex-looking fittings on the ends. He set it down, and did several careful calculations with his sliderule, repeating one of them several times until he appeared to be satisfied with the answer. His worksheet was covered in scribbled notes, scratched out phrases and figures, and hasty sketches. He suddenly stood up, knocking the stool over. With a swiftness which shocked him, Automaton 7A was aiming its two firearms at him. He stared, at the machine in surprise, then seemed to remember where he was. He raised his hands over his head, and said, "I apologize. I need to find a flanging tool." He glanced down at the desk. "I have to use my hands for that, alright?" Heinrich still had no idea what the man-shaped machine understood, although clearly they were capable of understanding speech and interpreting visuals. He hadn't let his mind dwell on it, but Heinrich was at least as fascinated by the walking machines as Herr Hintenschloss was. It didn't seem possible, and he found himself paradoxically desperate to talk with his captor, to learn how he'd accomplished such a feat, completely independent of Heinrich's amplification device. The guns swivelled back down, but the machine left them attached, their places in its utility belt conspicuously empty. It seemed to relax a little. Heinrich took this as a good sign, and started slowly looking for the tool. He couldn't find one. He wasn't sure there'd ever been one in the room, so he searched each pile twice. He'd been trying to re-organize the working space as he went, but he'd been fairly absent minded about it as he concentrated on his work. Indeed, there was no flanging tool. He turned to the anthropoid machine, and said, "I need a flanging tool to continue my work. I'm going to knock on the door. Please don't shoot me." He felt like he was addressing a child at the fuse of a field cannon. The automaton made no motion, which Heinrich had decided meant acquiescence. He walked slowly forward and knocked on the door. He knocked again, louder. There was no response, and so he walked back to the bench, and found the least threatening tool he could that still carried some weight (a pair of large, rounded pliers for the shaping of sheet metal), and used them to rap loudly on the door. After some minutes, there was the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and the jingle of keys outside the door. The door was unlocked, and a gaunt, unpleasant-looking face peered in. "What d'you want?" demanded the face. "I need a flanging tool." The face seemed to consider this, and the spidery hand which was clasped around the edge of the door fluttered up to stroke the sharp chin of the face. "What's a flanging tool, then?" Heinrich considered this question for moment, then picked up his notes, and the pipe he'd been looking at. "It's for turning this," he said, holding up the pipe, "into this," and here he poined at a diagraom scribbled on the page. "It should ratchet, and should read out diameter in millimeters." He looked at the face for a moment, then said, "I can write all that down, if you would like." The face removed itself from the crack in the door, and was replaced by the whole man: tall, thin to the point of looking ill, deeply in need of a shave. Heinrich would have guessed the man was in his late 50s. He carried himself like one born into servitude. The man glanced at Automaton 7A, and came fully in the room. The automaton turned to examine the newcomer then turned back to Heinrich. Heinrich held out his notes when the man motioned for them. "Yer," he finally said. "Write it down. I'll see if the master has one you can use." "Thank you," said Heinrich, scribbling out his request on a torn off corner of a workbook sheet. The scarecrow-like man took the paper, and folded it into a pocket in his jacket. "Anythin' else?" he asked, as he turned to go. "No... Oh, yes." Heinrich turned back to the bench and scrabbled through tools until he found what he was looking for. "I need a new one of these. This one broke." He handed the tool over to the man and stood back. The skinny man reached the door, and said, "We'll see what you can get, then," as he pulled it closed. Heinrich heard the bolt slide home, and sat down with a sigh, wondering if there were some way he could escape by calling the man back in. If only Automaton 7A weren't standing such constant, vigilant guard. Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss had a plan. It wasn't a good one, he was the first to admit, but it was a plan. He would free Heinrich, and they could together retrieve the other three. He'd conceived his plan when he found a way to peer into one of Durgenheim's workshops, and gotten a good solid hour to study one of the automatons. From what he could tell, they must use some kind of visual scanning. That was the only purpose to having the lenses on their faces as they did. This meant that any attack which rendered their vision inoperable would have the same effect as it would on a human -- without being able to see, they would have limited or no ability to track down targets. Or so he hoped. He thought of his wife, and her ability to tap into information and energy he didn't understand, which was most conveniently categorized as "magic." Hopefully Durgenheim hadn't figured out more about joining magic and technology, such as a magic-based way of locating people. So, his plan went as followed. Procure a method of making an impromptu blindfold for the automaton guarding Heinrich (done: a piece of dust cloth from the room he'd taken over). Overpower the man who seemed to be waiting on Heinrich's needs and take his keys. Unlock the door (there was a regular, twice-daily service of food and drink to the lab, and this would be a good time to strike), and blind the automaton. It looked as though none of Durgenheim's designs were even capable of reaching up to their heads, so it might be quite a while before a blinding sack could be removed. Then.... Well, then they'd have to improvise. It didn't seem like Durgenheim had enough staff to be able to conduct a thorough search of the castle and surrounding land (although the surrounding land did admittedly consist of either road, or strikingly vertical surfaces). It was even possible that the five of them might be able to overcome the old scientist and his servants, although the automata he'd seen suggested that might not be the most practical path to follow. Herr Hintenschloss checked that he had the dust cloth in his pocket, an improvised cudgel fashioned from the leg of a table, and set out to put his plan in motion. He picked the next convenient feeding time, which was in the afternoon, around 5 o'clock by his watch. He'd staked out a spot in a deserted corridor where the food seemed to pass by, and he'd determined that the scarecrow man was the one who usually brought it in the afternoons. Herr Durgenheim figured he was at least a match for the man, particularly armed as he was. So, he set himself up in a pool of shadow just around a corner, and waited. He tried to keep from nervously checking his watch, but even so managed to check it every few minutes. He saw 4:50 come and go, and 4:55, and then 5 o'clock. He strained his ears, but couldn't hear the sound of anything, much less approaching footsteps. It seemed that he sat there for an eternity before he finally heard the sound of footfalls echoing down the corridor. He waited, tense, with his improvised club at the ready. The footsteps crew closer, and just as they rounded the corner, he sprang. Chapter n Frau Hintenschloss had developed a plan of her own. The Baroness and Christian looked on anxiously as she sat, cross-legged, on the floor of their chamber. She was surrounded by such soft material as they had been able to cobble together: a feather pillow, cushions from an armchair, Christian's coat, folded into a bundle. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be concentrating fiercely. Christian and the Baroness exchanged nervous glances every so often, although as the time wore on, they found their nervousness replaced by boredom. Frau Hintenschloss sat with an unnatural stillness, her face growing paler as the minutes turned into hours. Christian got up to stoke the fire once or twice, and the Baroness took turns around the room to ward off stiffness, but they always returned to their positions on either side of Frau Hintenschloss. She'd left specific instructions about what might happen to her, and what they were to do in each case: if she appeared to wake up and lose her balance (this was very likely, she said), they were to catch her and lay her down gently on her back. If she appeared to be in any distress, which Christian had taken to mean if she started moving uncomfortably, they were simply to touch her on the arm, which she said would lend her power she might need. If she fell over /without/ appearing to wake up, they were to lay her back as in the first case, but also to heat or cool her as seemed necessary. She spoke grimly of the last case, as if it meant that something grave had happened, but she didn't elaborate about what any of the cases meant. In fact, she had been singularly silent on what exactly she was intending to do, only smiling mischeviously and saying, "I'm going to see if I can't give Durgenheim a bit of his own poison." Thus it was that, nearly two hours into her ordeal, Frau Hintenschloss fell back in a dead faint. Chapter n Herr Hintenschloss flew at the man as he rounded the corner, springing like an angry pheasant, and making nearly as much of a fright. It was indeed the spindly scarecrow man with a platter of food, but his reactions were fast, and his first move was to throw the stew and bread on his plate at his attacker. Herr Hintenschloss followed through regardless of the hot liquid coursing down his arm and chest, and would have delivered a swift blow to the man's head if the metal platter hadn't come up to ward it off. There was a loud clang as the club hit the platter, giving it a visible crease down the center. The servant stepped back, as if to get a better view of the situation, and Herr Hintenschloss pressed his advantage, advancing quickly with his cudgel raised. It came down again, and was again deflected by the silver platter, which again made a tremendous noise that echoed down the hallway. The servant lunged back at Herr Hintenschloss, who danced back to avoid the whistling edge of the platter as it hissed across where his head would have been. Now the servant pressed his advantage, coming toward Herr Hintenschloss with a shriek that seemed to come more from a wild animal than a human being. He flailed with a fist, the platter still decelerating on its arc away from Herr Hintenschloss, but failed to connect. Herr Hintenschloss lunged back at the skinny man, landing a blow on his elbow that produced a sickening crack. The platter dropped to the floor, nearly deafening Herr Hintenschloss's suddenly acute hearing. The man grimaced, but did not cry out at the pain, instead lashing out with his foot at Herr Hintenschloss. They danced back and forth in this fashion for several more attacks and counterattacks, neither making much progress, until Herr Hintenschloss was able to drive the man back with a flurry of blows from the table leg, and he trod on the bent up platter. His foot landed with considerable side force as he retreated, and before either man knew what was happening, the servant was falling over backwards, his arms and legs flailing. The servant fell onto his head and went still, but not before he'd sent the silver platter winging towards Herr Hintenschloss's legs, off which it carromed with considerable force. He fell to the floor, clutching his left shin, his mouth and eyes wide with agony, but he avoided crying out. Herr Hintenschloss stumbled painfully to his feet again, and limped over to the servant, who was quite unconscious. He found the ring of keys on his belt and removed them. He debated searching the man for anything else that might be interesting, but decided that with the commotion he'd caused, he would be better served by moving quickly. He remembered to check his pocket for the blindfold, then limped forward, keys in one hand, cudgel in the other. Chapter n Heinrich was thoroughly engrossed in the flow dynamics of magical energy. It was a subject he'd stumbled on by accident while constructing his first prototype device, and he was revisiting the subject now. The spheres in the concentrating chamber of the device did seem to act like lenses, but they also seemed to act like venturis or other types of valves and constrictions for what he had come to think of as the water-like flow of magic. This model made it comparatively easy for him, as he was able to apply his understanding of normal-matter fluid dynamics to his study of magic. It didn't always fit, as sometimes the magical energy behaved more like lightning, and sometimes it behaved like nothing else at all (the source of more than one curious or bewildering happening in the lab, both in his manor, and now). The flanging tool had arrived, and been used, and now sat in a neat row with other tools he'd used, along the clean side of the bench. To his right, there was still a pile of disorganized tools and parts which he hadn't yet had need of. Heinrich was working on his theoretical model on paper, trying out different arrangements of spheres and sphereoids, and he'd even considered the use of angular prisms, but didn't know that the idea would translate well into reality. He was onto a series of particularly likely-looking magical lenses when he heard the key in the door. He resignedly sat back from his work. The behavior had been established: he was to adopt as non-threatening a pose as possible when the servant came in with meals for him, or came to change the chamber pot. Automaton 7A seemed to think that the presence of the additional human was cause for alarm, or at least cause for heightened tension, and Heinrich found himself disinclined to argue when the machine's arms clicked into the firearm attachments. He was thus somewhat surprised when the door opened slowly, and instead of a servant with a try of food, he saw a wild looking and very disheveled Herr Hintenschloss, holding a stick in one hand, and a white cloth in the other. Automaton 7A reacted in immediate alarm, but with a strange halting weakness. Its steam engines spun up to full power, and Heinrich was expecting to feel the terminal sting of the machine's wrath, but it seemed as weak as a child, barely able to lift its arms. Its voice came out like a whisper, saying, "Halt! Intruder!" But its arms could not slot into any of its attachments, and it seemed to be in imminent danger of falling over without any outside intervention. Heinrich heard the steam engine spinning frantically, and saw a wisp of smoke rising from the machine's neck joint, presumably as internal clutches spun trying to work against whatever malady had overcome it. "Come on, lad!" said Herr Hintenschloss. Herr Hintenschloss recovered from his surprise, and looped the cloth over the machine's lenses while it struggled feebly. "We've got to get out of here! Your brother and aunt and the Baroness are just up there!" He pointed diagonally at the ceiling. Heinrich rose to leave, but Herr Hintenschloss had the foresight to say, "Don't forget your notes! We can't have come all this way just to escape without what we came for!" Heinrich nodded mutely, and gathered up the papers into a loose bundle, which he tied with a piece of leather strapping after casting about for a bit of twine. It was at this moment that Automaton 7A seemed to recover. Its strength came back, and it reached up hand to rip the cloth off its head. Herr Hintenschloss looked in terror at the machine, performing the very feat he had assumed it couldn't do. Both men stood, transfixed on the spot, as the machine raised all four arms. Heinrich noted, in some calm, detached part of his brain, that the upper arms had come up without the expected pistol attachments. He was still caught entirely off guard when the machine's grille shouted, "Friends! Take me with you!" Chapter n Christian leapt to Frau Hintenschloss's side, and rearranged her unconscious body so that she was on softer materials, while the Baroness felt the woman's forehead. It was burning hot. She got up quickly and retrieved a washcloth, soaked with water from the washbasin. "What do you suppose happened?" asked Christian, sitting back, and looking with apprehension at the woman lying prone in front of him. "I can only hope that she will wake soon and tell us herself, Herr von Klausheim!" The Baroness carefully laid the washcloth on Frau Hintenschloss's forehead as she spoke. There was a noise outside the door, and the Baroness motioned to Christian to be quiet. She hurriedly stood up and looked around the room, finally grabbing the tablecloth off their little table, and draping it over Frau Hintenschloss, so it looked as if she was napping on the floor. Then a key was turned in the lock, and the door opened. The Baroness and Christian had tried to assume normal-looking poses about the room, which created a jarring effect when coupled with the image of Frau Hintenschloss lying in the middle of the floor, swaddled in an off-white tablecloth. The door opened, and the Baroness let out a cry. Christian looked up, and saw why: his brother and Herr Hintenschloss were standing there! He got up quickly, and went to them, clasping them in a brief embrace. He looked from Herr Hintenschloss to Frau Hintenschloss, and the older man broke away to kneel by his wife. "What happened?" he asked, anger in his eyes. "Oh, uncle, nothing like that!" Christian correctly interpreted the look as bearing anger against their captors. "She said she had some way of making Durgenheim suffer, but wouldn't tell us what it was. I think she was trying to work a spell on him, but all she did was sit down and close her eyes." "Herr Hintenschloss," said the Baroness, gently laying her pale hand on the bearded man's shoulder, "she instructed us what to do in three situations, perhaps you can recognize what she was doing?" "What were the situations?" he said, standing again. "First, if she woke up and fell over, next, if she seemed to be struggling, and third, if she fell over without waking up. On the third, she seemed to place some ill portent, and so I fear something has gone wrong with whatever she was doing." "That doesn't sound like anything she's told me before. Then she sat down and closed her eyes?" "Yes, that's what she did." The Baroness glanced down at the unconscious woman, then said, "And then she fell over without waking." "And what did she say to do in this case?" Herr Hintenschloss knelt down again, brushing the hair out of his wife's face, which was set in an expression of some stress. "To warm or cool her as necessary. She was very warm, and so I was cooling her forehead with this washcloth. That's about when you walked in the door." At this point, the Baroness realized what was strange about the scene: each man was holding an oversized revolver-like thing in his hands, and there was someone else out in the hallway. She glanced towards the door, and spotted a man-sized brass and copper machine. She yelped, and cast about for anything she could use against the machine. Heinrich caught her arm, and put his finger up to his lips. "Sshhhh," he said, "it appears that we've gained an ally. I'll explain more later, but this is the automaton which was guarding me. It... he, that is, appears to be a very complex and intriguiging thing. He seems to bear us no ill will, however, and willingly gave up his firearms to us." Heinrich raised the revolver, which looked as though someone had grafted an elegant if burly piece of pipe straight back from the body of a normal if oversized repeating pistol. There was no obvious trigger mechanism. "What is it?" asked the Baroness, looking out again into the hallway. The automaton stood perfectly still in the dark passage. Its lenses glinted in the light from the room. The Baroness jumped when the machine suddenly turned to look at her. "I am Automaton 7A, madame. In a former life, I was called Reinhard. I was a cobbler." "You were a... cobbling... machine?" The Baroness looked over the shining automaton with an evaluative eye. "No, madame, I was a cobbler. I was a human." Chapter n "Baroness? Baroness?" She felt air moving on her face, and the Baroness opened her eyes. She tried to sit up, but a hand pushed her back down. She was, she realized, lying in the center of the room. "What happened?" Her voice felt odd and weak. "You fainted," said Heinrich, leaning back out of the light. "I believe the shock of Automaton 7A's revelation may have come as a shock. It certainly did to me." "Automaton 7A? I..." She put her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes again. "I thought that was a dream." "No, it was real. He is real, although the masculine pronoun is something of an honoric at this point, as I understand it. Are you able to get up? We really should leave as quickly and quietly as possible." The Baroness struggled upright, and after a moment of dizziness, seemed to be alright. "Yes, I can stand. Has Frau Hintenschloss...?" "She's still out. Herr Hintenschloss thinks he can carry her. We need to move. I'm hopefully we can discover a carriage and rig it in sufficient stealth to effect an escape. We stand no chance on foot, and between Frau Hintenschloss and Automaton 7A, we could not escape on horseback." "We have been undisturbed here, why not leave Frau Hintenschloss and myself here while you work out transportation?" "I don't think we have very long before Herr Doktor Durgenheim discovers his servant, and once that occurs, the whole castle, such as there is of it, will know something is afoot. I don't want to split up again." The Baroness stood unsteadily, and thought she might fall, but as she swayed to one side, was surprised to find Christian there holding her up. "Is there anything we need from here, Baroness?" he said, quietly to her. "I don't think so. I can stand, thank you. I should like a glass of water, if we have any left." Christian brought her back a glass half-full of water. "That's all there is," he said. She drank it down. "Then let us go," she said, setting the glass down. Chapter n The party made an odd sight, if anyone had seen them. Heinrich led the pack, with his unwieldy firearm in one hand, looking back as much as he looked forward. Herr Hintenschloss followed him, unburdened after having discovered that his bruised shin did not combine well with carrying a load. He also carried an unwieldy firearm. Following Herr Hintenschloss was Christian, who had hoisted his aunt over his shoulder with surprising ease, taking advantage of the strength he was only peripherally aware he possessed. The Baroness followed Christian, and Automaton 7A brought up the rear, its head swivelling back and forth, scanning both ahead and behind, like Heinrich. They travelled by the back stairs, down four tiresome flights in the near-darkness. Automaton 7A asked them to give him extra time, as the three-legged arrangement was not conducive to going easily down stairs. Apparently Durgenheim's genius had not extended to leg design. They made the descent in silence, and exited on the floor where they'd found the stables a few days before -- Heinrich reflected that it felt like weeks since they'd been captured, although he could only count a few days when he thought back on the time. A minute later, Automaton 7A whirred and clanked through the door, apparently no worse for the journey down the stairs. It was able to achieve amazing speed on the flat ground, but Heinrich could appreciate how the three-footed design would make stairs a challenge. Stairs were much better suited to an even number of legs. "Which way were the magical stables?" asked Heinrich, looking both ways down the hall. "I think we want to avoid those." "Agreed," said Herr Hintenschloss. He limped forward a step, and said, "They were to the left. Right to the normal stables." They started moving down the hallway, moving mostly in shadow between the wide-set torches in their holders. Heinrich wondered why the castle was equipped with torches when it evidently had gas service, but he supposed that a castle wasn't a proper castle without flaming torches somewhere in it. They found the door to the stable and went in, Heinrich having first determined that no one was already inside. The room seemed devoid of any people, but still contained its complement of animals. Heinrich found two horses which looked like they were accustomed to carriage duty, and bade the rest of his companions to be quiet and still. "I'm going to look outside, and see if I can't find the garage," he said, by way of explanation. "Friend Heinrich," said the metal man, "allow me to accompany you. I may be of value in an emergency." Heinrich eyed the automaton, and said speculatively, "I wish I understood why you changed." "I told you, sir, I was freed from my constraints, but I don't know how it occurred. One moment, I fully believed Herr Doktor Durgenheim was my rightful master, the next I understood that I was. As I said before, being without a human body is remarkably freeing from such distractions as emotion." "Very well, come with me if you like." Heinrich didn't look entirely happy at the thought, but didn't see how he could really stop the machine if it had made up its mind. He was still hesitant to credit the belief that there was a human brain encased in that oversized head-analogue, but he also had a hard time coming up with an alternate explanation which would cover the machine's remarkable thinking abilities. He crept up to the stable door, which was shut against the cold of night, with the metal man as his back. One thing Automaton 7A was not was stealthy or quiet. Heinrich looked back and considered saying as much, but decided that there was no point in antagonizing the creature. The door opened with a creak that sounded to Heinrich like the moaning of lost souls, but was probably all but inaudible outside, where the wind was blowing enough to just be audible through the closed door. He poked is head out enough to look around, but there was little to see. The sky was dark with low, scudding clouds, which seemed to brush the mountaintops. The wind blew hard enough to muss Heinrich's hair. The moon, which was nearly full, was just rising off the horizon, visible as a bright patch on the clouds. There didn't seem to be anyone outside, though, so Heinrich carefully stepped out, and looked around. He was on a built-up road on the north side of the castle, facing towards the valley below. He could just see the lights of one or two houses down below, although they looked very far away across the inhospitable night. He walked quickly and quietly around toward where he remembered the road being. He spied a vertical wall with a large door in it, and decided this must be the garage. "Automaton 7A," he said, speaking quietly into what he presumed was an ear of the machine, "do you know where the garage is? Are we in front of it?" "I don't know, Herr Doktor Durgenheim never showed me the garage. This is as likely as any other room." Heinrich walked to the latch and tried it. "Locked!" he said under his breath, looking around for anything he might use to smash the latch. "Allow me, sir," said Automaton 7A, rocking forward in its odd three-legged gait. He stood back, unsure what the machine was proposing to do. In the near darkness, he saw it dip an arm toward its belt full of accessories. It came back up with something like a spike with a large base, as far as Heinrich could tell in the available light. Suddenly, the spike made a terrific screaming noise, and Heinrich realized it must be a drill. Sparks flew from the lock as Automaton 7A loudly drilled into it. After an agonizingly long time, making a horrendous whine the whole time, Automaton 7A stood back and quickly sheathed its drill attachment. The lower right arm came up, and the pincer rotated the latch handle, which raised with a click. It pulled open the door, and said, "After you, sir." Looking somewhat askance at the man-machine, Heinrich allowed himself to be escorted into what turned out to be a large storage shed. There were no carriages in evidence, although if he was any judge, there was enough food and materials here to be self-sufficient for quite some time. "This is only storage," he said, backing out. The door clicked closed behind him, and he bumped into the automaton. "Oh, sorry," he said, at the same moment that the machine stepped back. "I apologize, sir," it said. Heinrich had a dizzying moment of horror that the machine had lured him out here alone to put him to an end, but it passed almost as quickly as it had come. "Let's check the next door," said Heinrich, as much to himself as to the automaton. They went to the other door that was visible, and 7A performed the same drill maneuver. The door was pulled open to reveal a one-horse, two-wheeled open carriage called a trap, and Heinrich recalled Christian talking about the trap he'd shared with a Durgenheim servant several days ago (only days!). A trap would be marginal for 5 people, and all but impossible for 5 people and an automaton (Heinrich judged the machine to weigh upwards of 500 pounds -- that is, 230 kilograms, he corrected himself). "Automaton 7A, can you run across a road surface?" "Yes, Lord von Klausheim, I most likely can, as long as the road doesn't involve steps." Although the automaton's face couldn't break into a smile, Heinrich imagined a smile where the grille sat impassively. "In that case, I think we've found our transportation." Heinrich started pulling out the trap, with the steam machine's help, into the windy Bergen night. Chapter n In the stable, Herr Hintenschloss had, with Frau Hintenschloss's help, managed to bridle one of the horses. It was clearly uncomfortable with the unfamiliar people working on its straps, but was old and wise enough to avoid panic. Christian and the Baroness had attempted to bridle the other horse, but without much success. Neither had done the work before, and the range of straps, buckles and weird hardware left them both baffled. By the time the Hintenschlosses had their horse ready to go, the other horse had only a belly band on, and was starting to look a little wild-eyed. Herr Hintenschloss chuckled as he came over to inspect their work. He had just picked up a snaffle and was getting ready to put it on, when the stable door opened, and Heinrich peeked in. The younger man walked quickly over to Herr Hintenschloss, and said, "We've found a trap, we'll only need the one horse. I think we can fit you, Gretchen, and the Baroness on the trap, and Christian, Automaton 7A and I can walk or jog alongside. But we must be quick, and quiet! I'm surprised the alarm hasn't been raised yet." With that, Heinrich dragged the door wide open, and Frau Hintenschloss (pushing her husband gently but firmly out of the way, in light of his limp) led the bridled horse outside to get it hooked up to the trap. Chapter n [cut to other scene in the castle, where Christian's fling servant girl stumbles across the confused and wandering scarecrow servant, raises ruckus which brings Durgenheim to the spot. Scarecrow recounts the story of the fight, Durgenheim rushes to the lab, then to the captive's room. He orders a search.] [Search of the castle turns up nothing, but introduces three new automatons, one of which is just small enough to fit through doors (5D) and is basically humanoid but with an aetherial communicator (a large backpack which links to a large desk-sized machine in the big lab), one of which (6B) is small and highly ornamented but functionally limited, using a dog brain instead of a human brain, and the last of which is a specialized soldier model with a chest-mounted 50 cal cannon.] [Meanwhile, the trap is loaded with Baroness, and Herr and Frau Hintenschloss, and they set out, only to discover that their way out passes through the courtyard of the castle, and the locked front door. 7A thinks the drill trick won't work on this lock, and Heinrich improvises by packing all the powder from his robot-sidearm into the lock and blowing it up.] [This attracts the attention of the searchers, who stream into the courtyard (all six of them: durgenheim, groggy scarecrow, butler, and three automatons) just in time to see the trap clattering across the faux drawbridge, Christian, Heinrich and 7A running alongside.] [Chase scene along road, Durgenheim on horseback, armed with a repeating cartridge rifle (4 shots), Herr Hintenschloss with his robot revolver (trigger mechanism requires arm-shaft plunger and rotary control, so each shot requires 20 seconds setup). Our heroes escape, wounding Durgenheim's horse, leaving the scientist over the edge, but not obviously dead.] [Dialogue scene establishing more about Automaton 7A back at the hotel, including that we can now call him Reinhard. Explain how Frau Hintenschloss was able to knock out the magical restrictions placed on Reinhard's mind, and disabled the inflow of magic into amplification device just as Herr Hintenschloss was opening the door to Heinrich's cell/lab.] [Hasty exit from hotel and Neuschwannstein, with Durgenheim dogging their heels, re-read how they got to Neuschwannstein, probably a carriage ride back down the mountain followed by a train trip back to Reigenstadt. They seem to escape from Durgenheim by the time they're on the train, calm trip back to Reigenstadt, Reinhard/7A crated and in luggage -- he suggests this plan, explains how boredom doesn't affect him any more.] [Return to the von Klausheim manor, uncrate Reinhard, Finis for now.] Word count: 50187