Gilgamesh Wulfenbach and the Men of Letters 16/18
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Chapter 16
Won’t Get Fooled Again
Over lunch, Dean and Charlie got to talking about the possibilities for setting up some kind of wall map or table that would track revolt locations in real time, less complex than the library’s map of the castle-two-dimensional, at any rate-but still significantly faster than the paper-and-pins version in the war room on Castle Wulfenbach. It wasn’t long before Agatha chimed in, too, but while Gil could see the advantages of such a system, he questioned the ability to track in real time without needing trackers in every town and with every unit.
“Ah, no prob,” said Charlie with a wave of her hand. “I had plenty of time to study the computers in the Men of Letters’ bunker while I was recovering. Even found the original manuals,” she added, smiling at Dean.
“Awesome,” Dean replied. “Have any info on the magic they run on?”
“Yup. May have to get the angels to help us adapt the spells, and it may take something like a Dyne-water power core to make it work, but it shouldn’t be too tough.”
“Wait,” said Tarvek, and he and Gil chorused, “What spells?”
“The computers in the bunker track major supernatural events,” Dean explained. “When the angels fell, the map table lit up like crazy, and the system locked down the bunker.”
“With me in it,” Kevin added grouchily.
Charlie nodded. “Obviously, we can’t use the same search criteria here, but I bet we can get our map table to tune into significant numbers of deaths.”
“Ooh!” Agatha exclaimed. “Do you think we could get it to track revenants, too?”
“Mm, maybe, if Dr. Bren’s notes explain what the wasp eaters sense. But that might be a lot trickier. We should see what we can get out of the beacon engine first.”
“Tracking large death tolls would definitely have its uses beyond just tracking revolts,” said Sam. “Like, if an experiment got out of control and started killing people or if someone decided to break the peace, we’d know right away.”
“Revolts first,” Wooster said firmly. “Heroism can wait.”
“Right,” Dean and Charlie chorused.
Gil chuckled. “Thanks, Wooster.”
Kevin gave Wooster an odd look. “You’re really good at that.”
“I was at school with Master Gil,” Wooster replied darkly. “I daresay I have practice.”
Tarvek laughed.
“We should probably get the prototype set up in one of the labs here,” Gil stated. “Castle Heterodyne’s the most secure of our headquarters.”
“Well, of course,” said the castle. “Airships crash, and my pit traps are exquisite, if I do say so myself.”
“That, and you can move the whole lab if you have to,” Dean added.
“True.”
“Hey, is Cas done yet? He’s probably the one we need to get the spells worked out.”
“I believe-”
But the castle was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Castiel, looking somewhat glassy-eyed. “Spells? What?”
“Whoa, dude, sit down.” Dean jumped up and steered Castiel into a chair.
“Dean... your soul... the Spark... it’s so beautiful....”
“How much Dyne water’d you drink, anyway? You weren’t seein’ pink elephants after you drank that liquor store.”
Sam frowned. “Dyne? Wait, what-”
“Sheriff Mills got his grace back from Metatron and sent it with me,” Charlie admitted with a grimace.
“Sparks,” Castiel repeated with a sappy grin. “So bright with Father’s glory... even Sam, burned so clean-it’s gone, you know, the Trials purged it.”
Sam flushed bright red. “Shut up, Cas.”
“Make that an order,” Dean grumbled. “Next thing we know, you’ll be off chasin’ bees again.”
“Um,” said Agatha, the only other person at the table who had experienced the Dyne’s power in such a way, and produced a notebook and pencil. “Charlie, do you think you could....”
“On it,” Charlie replied and scribbled down the spells in question.
“Ooh,” Castiel said, watching her. “The Spark turns colors when you use it. Fascinating.”
“Pretty sure you’re just high,” Dean stated.
Charlie got up and sat down on the other side of Castiel. “Here. We need to adapt these to power a map table like the one at the bunker, only with the ability to track major outbreaks of violence.”
Castiel’s face cleared as he looked over the page of spells. “How major? What’s the minimum threshold?”
Gil blew the air out of his cheeks. “Twenty deaths?”
Castiel nodded slowly, then took the pencil, turned the page, and started writing just as quickly as Charlie had. “You’re quite correct, Dean. Not only am I more versed in such matters than even Gadreel is, but the water of the Dyne has given me greater understanding of the properties of this world. The spells from the bunker’s computer would not have served even their original purpose here, but these should answer our need.”
Gadreel appeared just as Castiel slid the notebook back to Charlie. “Oh, here you are, brother.”
Castiel looked up at him. “Oh, yes, forgive me for leaving so suddenly. I’m still hidden, aren’t I?”
“Yes and no. I do not quite understand it, but... just now I sensed... I believe the Dyne may have given you the Spark.”
“Is that even possible?” Tarvek asked.
Sam tilted his head. “Well, Cas always has been different. Even Lucifer thought so.”
“And he is practically one of the family,” Dean added.
“Great,” Kevin groaned. “Everybody’s got the Spark but me.”
“I’m not a spark,” Violetta observed. “Neither are Wooster and Zeetha. And frankly, I feel a lot better about trusting you around my lady knowing that you’re not going to go off your head and start trying to invent a political system that breaks up all the power structures and gives everybody five acres and a cow or something.”
“That’s distributism,” Kevin replied automatically. “Never been tried, though, and it wouldn’t work here.”
Zeetha snickered.
“Hyu dun hef to be a spark to be a schmot guy, Meester Kevin,” Dimo noted. “Und hyu soundz pretty dem schmot to me.”
Kevin ducked his head with a wry smile. “Thanks, Dimo.”
“And I am going to get you that scholarship to TPU,” Agatha stated, “even if I have to endow it myself. Dr. Glassvitch is looking into options for me. Incidentally, he’s not a spark, either.”
“That... actually makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Agatha.”
“Pretty sure your mom’s going to be favorably impressed that you came up with this constitution more or less single-handed, Kevin,” Charlie said. “Especially since you don’t have the Spark but you do have the education and the sense to be able to handle both the details and the big picture. In fact, being a spark might have held you back.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, like he’d never considered that possibility. So his mother was as bad about pushing him to excel as Father had been about pushing Gil, eh? Well, Gil knew one thing he could say to that:
“Transylvania Polygnostic is the most prestigious university in this part of Europa. And for postgraduate work, I’m sure Tarvek or I could get you a fellowship at our alma mater in Paris.”
“Easily,” Tarvek agreed.
Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Grad school in Paris... that’s... wow. Thanks!”
Charlie clapped her hands together once. “Right, so. Cas, anything more we need to know about how to set up this map table?”
Castiel quickly filled several more pages before handing the notebook back to Charlie. “I think you and Dean can take it from there.”
“You are awesome.” Charlie hugged Castiel, who chuckled.
“Not stayin’ to help?” Dean asked.
Castiel shook his head. “No, I believe I might short out the system accidentally. And Gadreel and I had talked about visiting the hospital and the spark asylum.”
“Before you do that,” Gil said, “I’d like you both to take a look at the beacon engine. We don’t want to risk transferring Lucrezia’s spirit along with the data.”
“Oh, of course, certainly.”
The humans finished eating quickly after that, and Agatha led Dean and Charlie off to a lab. Castiel, on the other hand... Gil wasn’t even sure what happened. He blinked, and he and Castiel were on Castle Wulfenbach, standing next to the beacon engine. Guards and technicians scattered, most of them swearing.
A moment later, Gadreel appeared with Tarvek. “Castiel, I don’t think humans like it when you fly with them without permission.”
“You don’t say,” Tarvek deadpanned, then turned to Gil. “Sam sends his apologies. It seems Dean had to swear at Castiel for years before he learned such social graces as not appearing two inches in front of someone’s face.”
Gil snorted in amusement. “I can believe it.”
Castiel, however, was already deep in fugue and completely ignored everyone else in the room, muttering under his breath in some language Gil had never heard before as he circled the beacon. Gadreel addressed him in that language several times, but Castiel barely responded. Finally, Gadreel looked annoyed-and suddenly Castiel winced and put a hand to his head as if he had a sudden headache.
“What?!” he snapped.
“Explain,” Gadreel snapped back. “In German. To the humans.”
“Their names are Sam and Dean, and they don’t speak German.”
“Their names are Gil and Tarvek, and they don’t speak Enochian!”
Startled, Castiel looked at Gil and Tarvek. “-Oh. Forgive me. I... was distracted.”
“No kidding,” Gil replied. “What have you found?”
“Part of Lucrezia’s spirit remains tied to the beacon engine,” Gadreel began.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Castiel shot back. Then to Gil and Tarvek he explained, “The good news is that what remains is currently inert. The better news is that it has been divided only once. Sam and Charlie will have to determine whether any additional copies of Lucrezia were made during the week the Geisterdamen were in Passholdt, but if so, they will be no more powerful than was the copy Zola overpowered in her own mind. If they can be captured, they need not be killed; Tarvek should be able to remove the copied personality without difficulty.”
“That is good news,” Tarvek agreed. “What’s the bad news?”
“This is where it gets complicated and is still not wholly bad. Sam was right. Lucrezia’s power is drawn from the worship of the Geisterdamen and her human followers. That enabled her to attach her soul to the beacon engine, and it gave the beacon the power to divide the spirit that once and force Lucrezia into Agatha. Only Agatha could have received that possession, just as only certain bloodlines can serve as angel vessels in our world. But in our world, only the most powerful of demons could even temporarily divide themselves. Lucrezia’s division was to be permanent-and now that the portion possessing Agatha has been destroyed, it is doubly permanent. The portion that remains is too damaged to divide again or to possess another host. But because it alone is drawing the power of the worship offered to Lucrezia, it is too strong for us to remove it. The only way to destroy it will be to destroy the beacon permanently.”
Gil frowned. “Can we retrieve the data first? Or do we risk shifting the haunting?”
“That’s a question for Charlie and Sam, but from what I can tell, the spirit is tied to the beacon itself, not to the data.”
“Considering that Lucrezia was able to copy her consciousness into the clank head Tarvek made without shifting the remains of her soul,” Gadreel noted, “I think we may safely assume that the data can be downloaded to a computer without hazard.”
“As it’s Charlie’s computer, however, I would rather let her be the one to assess the risk.”
“Especially since it may not be so easy to replace,” Gil interjected. “Dean might be able to forge the proper components, but from what Miss Bradbury said earlier, that isn’t likely. Better to let her think it through than to go through with it, discover we’re wrong, and have to destroy the computer to get rid of Lucrezia.”
Gadreel tilted his head, conceding the point.
“And since they won’t be available to ask until the map table is finished, I suggest we let the matter rest until at least after supper.”
“All right,” Castiel agreed, then hesitated. “Did you need us to....”
“We should probably check in with Dolokhov,” Tarvek interrupted smoothly. “We can catch an airship back to Castle Heterodyne.”
“Very well. We’ll see you later, then.” With that, Castiel disappeared, and Gadreel rolled his eyes and went after him.
Tarvek turned to Gil with a frown. “What did he mean, the Winchesters don’t speak German?”
“What language do you speak around them,” Gil returned, “German or English?”
Tarvek opened his mouth but paused, frown deepening. “Oh. I’m... not sure. I hadn’t thought.”
“Neither have the Jägers. I generally speak English when I’m alone with them but German in company-and they haven’t reacted as if they’ve noticed a difference. It’s only when I speak English that I hear English from them.”
“But that’s... not scientifically possible, is it?”
“Well, as Agatha says, any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from science. Though I don’t know how we’d sufficiently analyze this particular phenomenon,” Gil admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
Tarvek sighed. “My concept of reality is getting rather stretched lately. I’m not sure I like it.”
“Better get over that before Agatha drags us to Oz to meet her father. I’ve seen experiments that resulted in merged bodies with two heads, but I don’t know how one addresses someone with two minds in one body that are both aware at the same time. With Agatha, only one personality was aware at any time.”
“Mm, true. I don’t suppose we’ll have any chance of sufficiently analyzing this map table, either.”
“If it runs on Dyne water, I doubt the castle will allow anyone but Agatha to do any analysis at all.”
Tarvek grimaced. They both knew how... cantankerous the castle could be if it felt its secrets or its mistress threatened. “Right, well, I wasn’t lying about checking in with Dolokhov. If we can take the latest intelligence back with us, we can test the map table’s abilities better.”
Gil nodded his agreement, and off they went to Operations. Boris had finally listened to one of his aides and gone off to take a long nap, but the Deep Thinkers brought Gil and Tarvek up to speed quickly, and the pair of them spent the afternoon ordering troop movements. About the time Boris returned, however, a message arrived from Princess Zulenna Luzhakna stating that Holfung-Borzoi was suffering an outbreak of some strange plague even the nearest sparks couldn’t identify and asking whether Dr. Sun could spare a medical team to come deal with it. The symptoms didn’t sound like anything Gil had ever heard of, either, nor had Tarvek.
“Can Dr. Sun spare anyone, do you think?” Tarvek asked.
Gil grimaced. “Even if he can, we might have trouble getting his attention to ask. When he’s not on rounds, he’s elbow-deep in building new healing engines.” He paused. “Although we do have a new spark who could probably use the outlet....”
Tarvek snorted. “Dean would be happier about that than if Castiel starts rhapsodizing about bees, whatever that meant.”
Boris blinked. “Did I miss something?”
“Yes,” Gil and Tarvek chorused. “Be glad.”
“We should send Gadreel with him just in case,” Tarvek continued.
Gil nodded. “You think you can spare him, though?”
“Oh, yes, now that the Smoke Knights are clear on what’s going on. As long as I’m not in Castle Heterodyne, they’ll stick with me readily enough.”
“Castle Heterodyne’s probably the last place you’d need them. Of course, you could stay there until Gadreel returns.”
“Could, but shouldn’t. There are too many rumors about her having used mind control on me as it stands. And anyone who wants my opinion about the constitution will be looking for me in Sturmhalten. Come to that, it might be best for me to be seen publicly without Gadreel for a while-that would reaffirm my confidence in the Smoke Knights and give less credence to the idea that he’s managing me for Agatha.”
Gil tilted his head. “Fair enough. We just don’t want you getting killed because you’ve let your guard down.”
“Now that I’ve actually had time to sleep, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”
“Good, because if you do get yourself killed, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.”
Tarvek snickered.
Gil rolled his eyes and then, feeling somewhat self-conscious because he’d never really tried to pray before, bowed his head and closed his eyes. After a moment of floundering for how to begin, he went with, “Castiel and Gadreel, angels of mercy, hear my prayer and... when you have a minute, can you come to Operations, please?”
He was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of wings, and he opened his eyes to see Castiel and Gadreel looking at him in mild amusement.
“Well, it’s a better prayer than Dean usually manages,” said Castiel. “He doesn’t say please unless Sam’s dying.”
Tarvek coughed in surprise.
“Er, right,” Gil said. “Speaking of dying, would you be willing to take on a healing mission to Holfung-Borzoi?” He handed Castiel the message from Princess Zulenna. “Dr. Sun’s busy, and we can’t really send anyone else when we don’t know what the disease is.”
Castiel frowned. “We’re not trained healers. Battle injuries are one thing, but-”
“We can always try,” Gadreel interrupted. “Someone must go to save as many lives as possible and to preserve goodwill for the empire in that kingdom. And if I’m not mistaken, the situation must be dire for Princess Zulenna even to ask.”
Tarvek blinked. “Because she was a hostage?”
“Because she was killed trying to help Agatha escape,” Gil admitted, “and Father insisted on bringing her back. She’s out of the line of succession now, and she resents that. Bitterly.”
Having caught the sharp side of Princess Zulenna’s tongue more than once, Tarvek could well understand what Gil meant and winced.
“Gadreel has a point. There aren’t any major sparks left in Holfung-Borzoi. They’ve probably already had to beg for help from the Grand Duchy of Orcznik, their bitter enemy, or else from Aalborg. They wouldn’t try to contact us if Dr. Sun weren’t their only hope.”
“That does put a different light on the matter,” Castiel agreed. “In that case, we should go and do what we can.”
Gil nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now where, exactly, is Holfung-Borzoi?”
Gil pointed it out on the map, but before he could explain anything about the place, the angels were gone.
Tarvek looked at Gil, eyes narrowed. “I’ve just thought. Isn’t it convenient for someone that both angels are going to be out of the way?”
Gil frowned. “You said yourself-”
“I know I did. And I’m not expecting another attack, at least not an obvious one. Honestly, I’m not sure what I do expect. It just seems odd that a case this urgent would come up now.”
“Coincidences do happen.”
“Maybe.”
“Do the Knights of Jove have anyone capable of engineering a plague like this?”
Tarvek thought. “Not to my knowledge.”
“Who else who knows about the angels would have the resources?”
“I don’t know, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone.”
“Well, from everything they’ve said, they’re more warriors than healers, so I’m sure they can get out of any trap that might be laid for them. And we’ll just redouble our own guard while they’re gone.”
Tarvek sighed. “All right, fine. Let’s go see if Dean and Miss Bradbury have that table working yet.”
“Yes, we should be getting back down.” Gil checked his watch. “It’s almost time for supper anyway.”
“Is it?” Boris asked. “Ergh. I hadn’t meant to sleep quite so long.”
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks, Boris. You needed it. And we were here, so it was all right.”
“And now you’re here,” Tarvek chimed in, “so we can go. I imagine we’ll be back in a few hours, though.”
Boris nodded, and Gil and Tarvek left.
Back on the ground, the pair checked in with Tarvek’s Smoke Knights, who were baffled to see them getting out of an airship, then went back into the castle and followed its directions to the lab where Agatha was helping Dean and Charlie make the final connections between a boxy processor unit and a table topped with what looked like a paper map sandwiched between two pieces of glass. Wooster was on hand, too, and looked a little guilty when Gil walked in.
“Not particularly classified, is it, sir?” Wooster asked.
Gil chuckled. “If you mean do I mind Albia knowing we have it? No, not particularly. Not sure what she’d do with the information, honestly.”
“Well, it is a point in favor of your assertion that the three of you want to keep the peace. I rather suspect my superiors still believe my reports tainted by the fact that you know I’m sending them.”
“But not what’s in them, and that’s the main thing.”
“Okay,” Dean said, going to the processor. “We ready?”
“Ready!” Agatha and Charlie chorused.
Dean flipped the main switch. The processor hummed and whirred for a moment, and then with a series of pings, pinpoint diodes lit up under the map, exactly representing the most recent intelligence on the rebellions in progress.
“HA!” Tarvek cried. “It works!”
“’Course it does,” Dean replied, pulling Charlie into a side hug. “Cas knows what he’s doin’, and so does Charlie.”
“And so do you,” Charlie stated, poking Dean in the ribs for emphasis.
Dean grinned sheepishly. “Tryin’ not to get used to it.”
“Oh, Dean.”
“So now what?” Agatha asked.
“Now, I think we stick with the original plan,” Gil answered. “Contain the revolts as best we can, work on cleaning out the labs of Lucrezia’s servants, get the data core out of the beacon engine, and give people a week to consider the new constitution. The map table just gives us a better way to monitor the situation further abroad and make new plans if we need them.”
Tarvek nodded. “Makes sense to me.”
“But first,” Wooster said sternly, “supper, Master Gil.”
Dean’s stomach growled in agreement, and everyone laughed.
Compared to the previous week, Gil’s second week as ruler of Europa was relatively quiet. Most of the popular uprisings died down almost immediately once the constitution was announced, and those that didn’t and those that were spark- or noble-led to begin with were more easily contained. After dismantling the beacon engine and giving Selnikov’s head a severe brow-beating for information, Tarvek took charge of planning the raids on Lucrezia’s labs and servants and executing them with the help of the Jägers, which also served to rally the Smoke Knights and the anti-Lucrezia parties among the Knights of Jove even more securely to his cause. Castiel and Gadreel did find a genuine outbreak of something or other in Holfung-Borzoi and cleaned it up as best they could, though not before it spread to neighboring principalities that immediately clamored for their help. And Xerxsephina von Blitzengaard did finally surface to propose marriage to Gil, which he declined as politely as he knew how.
It was thus a reduced complement of planners who converged on the map table lab for the next scheduled strategy meeting on the following Friday afternoon. The human members of the Men of Letters were all there, of course, since five of them had stayed behind in Mechanicsburg to begin with and Gil hadn’t gone more than a day’s flight away. Also present were Boris, Tarvek, Agatha, Zeetha, Violetta, Krosp, and Mamma Gkika. Everyone else was away on other business, including von Mekkhan, who was at his usual place in the coffee house collecting intelligence for Agatha. But though Tarvek had brought von Bulen and a couple of other Knights of Jove in addition to his Smoke Knights, he still couldn’t convince any of them to come into Castle Heterodyne with him. Gil thought that might be just as well, given the givens-especially since Charlie met everyone else in the hall with a thick book in her hand.
“What’s that?” Agatha asked her.
“Illustration,” Charlie replied, holding up the book so Gil could see the English title, The Lord of the Rings. “Since you guys aren’t used to the computer jargon we’ll be using to talk about the beacon engine data, I figured you might want something to give you a sense of scale.”
“So did you get your adapter thingummy to work?” Tarvek asked as they walked toward the lab.
“We did! Dean’s the one who finally fixed it and found us a stable power supply.”
Dean pretended he hadn’t heard her. Gil fought the urge to laugh.
Tarvek didn’t notice. “And you got the data off the core all right?”
“That was the easy part,” said Sam. “Since Cas said the remains of Lucrezia’s ghost are currently inert, we figured we should hang onto the core for a backup just in case something goes wrong with the copy that’s on Charlie’s external drive. Fortunately, since we have the external drive and a USB hub, we can use both her computer and mine, and Kevin’s if he’s not using it, to go through the data that’s on it.”
“Pretty sure Cas brought Dean’s laptop, too,” Kevin said. “But I can help out when I’m done with the constitution stuff.”
Gil nodded. “And how is the data analysis progressing?”
“The good news is, we can open the source code in a plain text file,” Charlie reported. “That means we can sort through the data without running Lucrezia’s program. We can even divide it into smaller chunks to make it easier to navigate and harder to launch.”
“What’s the bad news?” Agatha asked.
“It’s six terabytes of data. For comparison, this?” Charlie held up her book again. “Is only three and a half megabytes, even in rich text format, which preserves things like italics-maybe four if you include all the maps and runes.”
“And bytes are counted in Base 8,” Sam added, “so I’m sure you can do the math yourselves.”
Gil did so and let out a low whistle.
Sam nodded. “Exactly. We’re talkin’ Library of Congress, here.”
Dean frowned. “How the hell did all that data fit in a clank’s head?”
“This is the source code, not the executable file,” Charlie replied. “Essentially, what the beacon engine did was download ‘Lucrezia.exe’ into the clank, without the source code included. That would be only, what, two hundred, three hundred megs?”
“Something like that, yeah,” Sam agreed. “Maybe smaller; there might be a separate log file for memories that would be more highly compressed. If there is, though, it’s linked to the executable file too closely for us to find and open separately. Plus, the source code duplicates data that would be included in a person’s... operating system, for lack of a better term-how to walk, talk, eat, and so on. The program would rely on that data already being present.”
“That could also explain why Zola couldn’t access all of Lucrezia’s memories, if data was lost in the transfer from Agatha to her. Lucrezia might even have chosen a lossy data compression protocol deliberately as a failsafe.”
Gil exchanged a bewildered look with Agatha. It wasn’t often he was thoroughly lost when listening to other sparks, but all this talk about data almost like a singular substance was practically a foreign language.
“So how long will it take to go through it all?” Tarvek asked as the group walked into the lab, where a conference table had been brought in for the meeting.
“Too long,” Sam and Charlie chorused.
“I mean, yeah, the Spark gives us ludicrous speed,” Charlie continued, “but so far, we haven’t even succeeded in distinguishing the operating system code from higher knowledge and memories. And it’s all in binary. Even with both of us working on it....”
“It’s gonna take months,” Sam agreed. “And that’s assuming we can come up with a program that can translate the binary into a code language like XML, which is still unwieldy but easier to decipher.”
“And still accessible without running the program.”
“Right. I mean, we can probably set up some sort of search function, but until we know what keywords to search for-”
The discussion was interrupted by a ping from the map table. Then another. Then another. Ping... ping... ping, ping, ping, pingping pingping pi-pi-pi-pi-pi-pi....
Gil took a deep breath. “Right. Boris? Plan B.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Boris replied promptly and pulled two packets of paper out of his portfolio, handing one each to Tarvek and Agatha, before going to the map table to start taking notes.
Tarvek frowned as he accepted his copy. “What’s this?”
“The Knights of Jove have evidently convinced the people that there’s only one way they’ll have peace and freedom,” Gil replied. “It’s time to give them what they want.”
“Give them-”
“If the terms of that treaty meet with your approval, we’ll crown the Storm King in Vienna on Midsummer’s Day.”
Tarvek was so staggered, he had to catch himself on the conference table. “Mid-you can’t be serious.”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“No, but-but-your empire-what’s-what’s the catch?”
“None. I’m giving it to you.”
“And you know what they say about gift horses,” Kevin added.
“Father never intended to hold power indefinitely,” Gil continued. “It was the only way he knew to keep the peace after what Lucrezia did to Europa. But clearly, force isn’t working anymore, and neither is reason. Besides which, you’re the one who’s made a sacred vow to wipe out Lucrezia’s work, and no one knows her work better than you do. We’ll still cooperate with you, obviously. But it’ll be easier for you to do what needs to be done when you’re in command of the people and resources you need to do it.”
A tear rolled down Tarvek’s cheek. “Gil, I... I don’t know what to say.”
Gil smiled. “Read the treaty first. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Tarvek nodded. “Right, yes, good idea.” He let Sam steer him into a chair and started reading.
Agatha had already gone off in a corner with Zeetha, Krosp, Charlie, and Mamma Gkika, who were all reading over her shoulder and discussing quietly. With the hands that weren’t writing, Boris handed a third copy of the treaty to Gil and remarkably didn’t look terribly ruffled by the lack of decorum or the fact that Wooster was still in the room. Then again, this was an emergency negotiation, and Wooster had sort of become the unofficial British ambassador to Mechanicsburg.
Boris didn’t need to know that Wooster, and therefore Albia, already knew what Plan B entailed. And he definitely didn’t need to know that Albia had already agreed to Wooster’s twist. That part was a Men of Letters secret.
Gil skimmed through his copy of the treaty before sitting down next to Dean and Wooster and sliding the papers over for them to skim in turn. Since Tarvek was on his own, Violetta, Kevin, and Sam sat with him and murmured a few comments here and there, to which Tarvek occasionally responded. And still the map table kept pinging. Dean went over to look at it, then motioned to Boris to recommend troop movements for keeping the peace until they could get the treaty signed.
Finally, Tarvek set the papers on the table, took off his pince-nez to set on top of the papers, and ran both hands over his face. “It’s too good to be true. You’re handing me practically everything I’ve ever wanted on a silver platter, down to my choice of the military units to be transferred to my command, aside from the Jägers. You’ve even let me keep Sturmhalten. But the treaty’s language is so straightforward, there aren’t any loopholes or ways any of the terms could be misinterpreted. I keep looking for the catch and not finding it.”
“Dude, you’re not a Winchester,” said Dean. “There’s no law that says you can’t have dreams come true without their being your worst nightmares.”
“Dean,” Sam chided, though he was plainly fighting laughter.
Agatha’s group came back to the table then with some suggested changes to the trade terms, which set up a good half-hour’s worth of spirited haggling that took the edge off Tarvek’s shock. Boris annotated Gil’s copy of the treaty as each new agreement was reached, and when Agatha and Tarvek both agreed to all the other terms as written at the end of the half hour, Gil sent Boris back to Castle Wulfenbach to prepare the final draft and dispatch troops as Dean had recommended. Tarvek took his own annotated copy with him to explain to his retainers, and Agatha went to see about supper, taking most of the group with her. That left Gil, the Winchesters, and the infernally pinging map table. Gil steeled himself to go look at it, saw how widespread the revolts were, and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Nobody can say you didn’t try. And at least you had a Plan B.”
“I thought we’d have more time,” Gil sighed, bracing himself on the edge of the map table. “I knew the peace had been tenuous for years, but... I was responsible for all those lives.”
“You couldn’t have saved them all, Gil,” Sam said quietly. “And it’s not even like the bloodshed’s your fault to begin with. Beating yourself up over it gets you nowhere.”
Gil huffed and smiled wryly. “Voice of experience?”
Dean nodded. “Seriously. If you don’t believe us, ask Cas.”
“Yeah,” Sam chuckled. “May feel like the world’s ending right now, but trust me, the actual end of the world is way worse.”
“And then you find out there are fates worse than that.”
Gil looked from one brother to the other. “I’m glad you’re here. Truly.”
Both brothers smiled at the same time, and Dean squeezed Gil’s shoulder and let go.
“I’m sure Tarvek’s going to invite you to the coronation,” Gil continued. “But I’m equally sure Zeetha’s going to want to wear something outrageous, so I think you can get away with white tie rather than court dress. We’ve got some time, though, so Wooster can coach you.”
“That would help,” Sam admitted. “It’s been, what, eight years since Dean last wore a tux?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t even remember.”
“It was before you went to Hell. Remember, when we went to that black-tie auction....”
“With Bela. Right, right. Man, even Chuck thought that one was bad.”
“That sounds like a story I ought to hear on the way to supper,” Gil interrupted, smiling.
“It’s stupid,” both brothers warned at the same time.
“All the better.”
Dean chuckled, and the three of them left the room. Gil thought the map table stopped pinging abruptly, but he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just distance or his own imagination.
Conversation over supper was subdued, and there was almost none on the flight up to Castle Wulfenbach. Wooster stayed behind, of course, and so did Agatha’s Jägers and Kevin, but everyone else who’d been at the meeting went, as did Tarvek’s party. Boris had been too busy updating the treaty to get to Operations yet, but he did have the treaty ready for them when they arrived, and the final review drew no objections from either Tarvek or Agatha. So they signed-Gil, Tarvek, and Agatha as parties; Boris, Zeetha, the Winchesters, Charlie, Mamma Gkika, von Bulen, and a couple of other Wulfenbach and Sturmvoraus functionaries as witnesses-and Gil suddenly felt a huge burden slide off his shoulders. The empire was Tarvek’s problem now; Gil would support him, of course, but the odds of the current Baron Wulfenbach gaining a reputation for being as irritable and tyrannical as his father had just dropped considerably.
“Right,” Gil said as Boris shook pounce over the signature page to dry the ink. “We’d better head to Operations to get Dean’s troop placements implemented while we can still save some lives.”
“Good idea,” Tarvek agreed. “We can sort out the details of the transfer later.”
With that, they all trooped into Operations, which was... not the bustling hive of activity Gil was expecting. In fact, the map showed no indication of new revolts at all.
“Perhaps there’s been a delay in our communications,” Boris suggested, but he didn’t sound like he quite believed it.
Gil wasn’t sure he believed it, either, but he said, “Well, it can’t hurt to-”
“HERR BARON!” cried a messenger boy on a unicycle, waving a radiogram as he wheeled into the room. “We’ve just had word of a new revolt in East Krumminey!”
“Where the hell is East Krumminey?” the Winchesters chorused.
“That was one of the first revolts the table reported,” Boris murmured.
Gil braced himself as he held out his hand for the radiogram. “How many dead?”
“None yet, Herr Baron,” the messenger replied, handing over the form. “The rioters are still massing. But the governor thought it prudent to send word now.”
Frowning, Gil read the message, which was exactly as the boy had said. “And you’ve had no other reports of violence today?”
The messenger shook his head. “Not by radio, Herr Baron.”
Gil looked at the message again, trying to make sense of the situation. “Then, did... did the table predict, or....”
Dean suddenly muttered a very harsh English curse that didn’t have a close German equivalent, followed by something about angels, and stomped out of the room.
Sam cleared his throat. “Best to treat it as a prediction and act accordingly. Excuse us.” And he followed Dean, with a confused Charlie jogging after him.
Gil drew a deep breath and folded the radiogram in half absently. “Boris, would you....”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Boris responded and immediately went to work, ushering Mamma Gkika and von Bulen over to the map so they could see where he was ordering the troops.
Tarvek and Agatha converged on Gil, and Zeetha crowded in just behind them. “You all right?” Tarvek asked.
Gil nodded slowly and looked him in the eye. “I think I know who wanted Castiel and Gadreel out of the way.”
Tarvek frowned. “Who?”
Gil almost didn’t dare answer out loud, so taking a cue from Baby, he whistled quietly, The eyes of Texas are upon you....
Tarvek, wide-eyed, mouthed the final line: ’Til Gabriel blows his horn.
Gil nodded slowly.
Next
Chapter 16
Won’t Get Fooled Again
Over lunch, Dean and Charlie got to talking about the possibilities for setting up some kind of wall map or table that would track revolt locations in real time, less complex than the library’s map of the castle-two-dimensional, at any rate-but still significantly faster than the paper-and-pins version in the war room on Castle Wulfenbach. It wasn’t long before Agatha chimed in, too, but while Gil could see the advantages of such a system, he questioned the ability to track in real time without needing trackers in every town and with every unit.
“Ah, no prob,” said Charlie with a wave of her hand. “I had plenty of time to study the computers in the Men of Letters’ bunker while I was recovering. Even found the original manuals,” she added, smiling at Dean.
“Awesome,” Dean replied. “Have any info on the magic they run on?”
“Yup. May have to get the angels to help us adapt the spells, and it may take something like a Dyne-water power core to make it work, but it shouldn’t be too tough.”
“Wait,” said Tarvek, and he and Gil chorused, “What spells?”
“The computers in the bunker track major supernatural events,” Dean explained. “When the angels fell, the map table lit up like crazy, and the system locked down the bunker.”
“With me in it,” Kevin added grouchily.
Charlie nodded. “Obviously, we can’t use the same search criteria here, but I bet we can get our map table to tune into significant numbers of deaths.”
“Ooh!” Agatha exclaimed. “Do you think we could get it to track revenants, too?”
“Mm, maybe, if Dr. Bren’s notes explain what the wasp eaters sense. But that might be a lot trickier. We should see what we can get out of the beacon engine first.”
“Tracking large death tolls would definitely have its uses beyond just tracking revolts,” said Sam. “Like, if an experiment got out of control and started killing people or if someone decided to break the peace, we’d know right away.”
“Revolts first,” Wooster said firmly. “Heroism can wait.”
“Right,” Dean and Charlie chorused.
Gil chuckled. “Thanks, Wooster.”
Kevin gave Wooster an odd look. “You’re really good at that.”
“I was at school with Master Gil,” Wooster replied darkly. “I daresay I have practice.”
Tarvek laughed.
“We should probably get the prototype set up in one of the labs here,” Gil stated. “Castle Heterodyne’s the most secure of our headquarters.”
“Well, of course,” said the castle. “Airships crash, and my pit traps are exquisite, if I do say so myself.”
“That, and you can move the whole lab if you have to,” Dean added.
“True.”
“Hey, is Cas done yet? He’s probably the one we need to get the spells worked out.”
“I believe-”
But the castle was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Castiel, looking somewhat glassy-eyed. “Spells? What?”
“Whoa, dude, sit down.” Dean jumped up and steered Castiel into a chair.
“Dean... your soul... the Spark... it’s so beautiful....”
“How much Dyne water’d you drink, anyway? You weren’t seein’ pink elephants after you drank that liquor store.”
Sam frowned. “Dyne? Wait, what-”
“Sheriff Mills got his grace back from Metatron and sent it with me,” Charlie admitted with a grimace.
“Sparks,” Castiel repeated with a sappy grin. “So bright with Father’s glory... even Sam, burned so clean-it’s gone, you know, the Trials purged it.”
Sam flushed bright red. “Shut up, Cas.”
“Make that an order,” Dean grumbled. “Next thing we know, you’ll be off chasin’ bees again.”
“Um,” said Agatha, the only other person at the table who had experienced the Dyne’s power in such a way, and produced a notebook and pencil. “Charlie, do you think you could....”
“On it,” Charlie replied and scribbled down the spells in question.
“Ooh,” Castiel said, watching her. “The Spark turns colors when you use it. Fascinating.”
“Pretty sure you’re just high,” Dean stated.
Charlie got up and sat down on the other side of Castiel. “Here. We need to adapt these to power a map table like the one at the bunker, only with the ability to track major outbreaks of violence.”
Castiel’s face cleared as he looked over the page of spells. “How major? What’s the minimum threshold?”
Gil blew the air out of his cheeks. “Twenty deaths?”
Castiel nodded slowly, then took the pencil, turned the page, and started writing just as quickly as Charlie had. “You’re quite correct, Dean. Not only am I more versed in such matters than even Gadreel is, but the water of the Dyne has given me greater understanding of the properties of this world. The spells from the bunker’s computer would not have served even their original purpose here, but these should answer our need.”
Gadreel appeared just as Castiel slid the notebook back to Charlie. “Oh, here you are, brother.”
Castiel looked up at him. “Oh, yes, forgive me for leaving so suddenly. I’m still hidden, aren’t I?”
“Yes and no. I do not quite understand it, but... just now I sensed... I believe the Dyne may have given you the Spark.”
“Is that even possible?” Tarvek asked.
Sam tilted his head. “Well, Cas always has been different. Even Lucifer thought so.”
“And he is practically one of the family,” Dean added.
“Great,” Kevin groaned. “Everybody’s got the Spark but me.”
“I’m not a spark,” Violetta observed. “Neither are Wooster and Zeetha. And frankly, I feel a lot better about trusting you around my lady knowing that you’re not going to go off your head and start trying to invent a political system that breaks up all the power structures and gives everybody five acres and a cow or something.”
“That’s distributism,” Kevin replied automatically. “Never been tried, though, and it wouldn’t work here.”
Zeetha snickered.
“Hyu dun hef to be a spark to be a schmot guy, Meester Kevin,” Dimo noted. “Und hyu soundz pretty dem schmot to me.”
Kevin ducked his head with a wry smile. “Thanks, Dimo.”
“And I am going to get you that scholarship to TPU,” Agatha stated, “even if I have to endow it myself. Dr. Glassvitch is looking into options for me. Incidentally, he’s not a spark, either.”
“That... actually makes me feel a lot better. Thanks, Agatha.”
“Pretty sure your mom’s going to be favorably impressed that you came up with this constitution more or less single-handed, Kevin,” Charlie said. “Especially since you don’t have the Spark but you do have the education and the sense to be able to handle both the details and the big picture. In fact, being a spark might have held you back.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, like he’d never considered that possibility. So his mother was as bad about pushing him to excel as Father had been about pushing Gil, eh? Well, Gil knew one thing he could say to that:
“Transylvania Polygnostic is the most prestigious university in this part of Europa. And for postgraduate work, I’m sure Tarvek or I could get you a fellowship at our alma mater in Paris.”
“Easily,” Tarvek agreed.
Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Grad school in Paris... that’s... wow. Thanks!”
Charlie clapped her hands together once. “Right, so. Cas, anything more we need to know about how to set up this map table?”
Castiel quickly filled several more pages before handing the notebook back to Charlie. “I think you and Dean can take it from there.”
“You are awesome.” Charlie hugged Castiel, who chuckled.
“Not stayin’ to help?” Dean asked.
Castiel shook his head. “No, I believe I might short out the system accidentally. And Gadreel and I had talked about visiting the hospital and the spark asylum.”
“Before you do that,” Gil said, “I’d like you both to take a look at the beacon engine. We don’t want to risk transferring Lucrezia’s spirit along with the data.”
“Oh, of course, certainly.”
The humans finished eating quickly after that, and Agatha led Dean and Charlie off to a lab. Castiel, on the other hand... Gil wasn’t even sure what happened. He blinked, and he and Castiel were on Castle Wulfenbach, standing next to the beacon engine. Guards and technicians scattered, most of them swearing.
A moment later, Gadreel appeared with Tarvek. “Castiel, I don’t think humans like it when you fly with them without permission.”
“You don’t say,” Tarvek deadpanned, then turned to Gil. “Sam sends his apologies. It seems Dean had to swear at Castiel for years before he learned such social graces as not appearing two inches in front of someone’s face.”
Gil snorted in amusement. “I can believe it.”
Castiel, however, was already deep in fugue and completely ignored everyone else in the room, muttering under his breath in some language Gil had never heard before as he circled the beacon. Gadreel addressed him in that language several times, but Castiel barely responded. Finally, Gadreel looked annoyed-and suddenly Castiel winced and put a hand to his head as if he had a sudden headache.
“What?!” he snapped.
“Explain,” Gadreel snapped back. “In German. To the humans.”
“Their names are Sam and Dean, and they don’t speak German.”
“Their names are Gil and Tarvek, and they don’t speak Enochian!”
Startled, Castiel looked at Gil and Tarvek. “-Oh. Forgive me. I... was distracted.”
“No kidding,” Gil replied. “What have you found?”
“Part of Lucrezia’s spirit remains tied to the beacon engine,” Gadreel began.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Castiel shot back. Then to Gil and Tarvek he explained, “The good news is that what remains is currently inert. The better news is that it has been divided only once. Sam and Charlie will have to determine whether any additional copies of Lucrezia were made during the week the Geisterdamen were in Passholdt, but if so, they will be no more powerful than was the copy Zola overpowered in her own mind. If they can be captured, they need not be killed; Tarvek should be able to remove the copied personality without difficulty.”
“That is good news,” Tarvek agreed. “What’s the bad news?”
“This is where it gets complicated and is still not wholly bad. Sam was right. Lucrezia’s power is drawn from the worship of the Geisterdamen and her human followers. That enabled her to attach her soul to the beacon engine, and it gave the beacon the power to divide the spirit that once and force Lucrezia into Agatha. Only Agatha could have received that possession, just as only certain bloodlines can serve as angel vessels in our world. But in our world, only the most powerful of demons could even temporarily divide themselves. Lucrezia’s division was to be permanent-and now that the portion possessing Agatha has been destroyed, it is doubly permanent. The portion that remains is too damaged to divide again or to possess another host. But because it alone is drawing the power of the worship offered to Lucrezia, it is too strong for us to remove it. The only way to destroy it will be to destroy the beacon permanently.”
Gil frowned. “Can we retrieve the data first? Or do we risk shifting the haunting?”
“That’s a question for Charlie and Sam, but from what I can tell, the spirit is tied to the beacon itself, not to the data.”
“Considering that Lucrezia was able to copy her consciousness into the clank head Tarvek made without shifting the remains of her soul,” Gadreel noted, “I think we may safely assume that the data can be downloaded to a computer without hazard.”
“As it’s Charlie’s computer, however, I would rather let her be the one to assess the risk.”
“Especially since it may not be so easy to replace,” Gil interjected. “Dean might be able to forge the proper components, but from what Miss Bradbury said earlier, that isn’t likely. Better to let her think it through than to go through with it, discover we’re wrong, and have to destroy the computer to get rid of Lucrezia.”
Gadreel tilted his head, conceding the point.
“And since they won’t be available to ask until the map table is finished, I suggest we let the matter rest until at least after supper.”
“All right,” Castiel agreed, then hesitated. “Did you need us to....”
“We should probably check in with Dolokhov,” Tarvek interrupted smoothly. “We can catch an airship back to Castle Heterodyne.”
“Very well. We’ll see you later, then.” With that, Castiel disappeared, and Gadreel rolled his eyes and went after him.
Tarvek turned to Gil with a frown. “What did he mean, the Winchesters don’t speak German?”
“What language do you speak around them,” Gil returned, “German or English?”
Tarvek opened his mouth but paused, frown deepening. “Oh. I’m... not sure. I hadn’t thought.”
“Neither have the Jägers. I generally speak English when I’m alone with them but German in company-and they haven’t reacted as if they’ve noticed a difference. It’s only when I speak English that I hear English from them.”
“But that’s... not scientifically possible, is it?”
“Well, as Agatha says, any sufficiently analyzed magic is indistinguishable from science. Though I don’t know how we’d sufficiently analyze this particular phenomenon,” Gil admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
Tarvek sighed. “My concept of reality is getting rather stretched lately. I’m not sure I like it.”
“Better get over that before Agatha drags us to Oz to meet her father. I’ve seen experiments that resulted in merged bodies with two heads, but I don’t know how one addresses someone with two minds in one body that are both aware at the same time. With Agatha, only one personality was aware at any time.”
“Mm, true. I don’t suppose we’ll have any chance of sufficiently analyzing this map table, either.”
“If it runs on Dyne water, I doubt the castle will allow anyone but Agatha to do any analysis at all.”
Tarvek grimaced. They both knew how... cantankerous the castle could be if it felt its secrets or its mistress threatened. “Right, well, I wasn’t lying about checking in with Dolokhov. If we can take the latest intelligence back with us, we can test the map table’s abilities better.”
Gil nodded his agreement, and off they went to Operations. Boris had finally listened to one of his aides and gone off to take a long nap, but the Deep Thinkers brought Gil and Tarvek up to speed quickly, and the pair of them spent the afternoon ordering troop movements. About the time Boris returned, however, a message arrived from Princess Zulenna Luzhakna stating that Holfung-Borzoi was suffering an outbreak of some strange plague even the nearest sparks couldn’t identify and asking whether Dr. Sun could spare a medical team to come deal with it. The symptoms didn’t sound like anything Gil had ever heard of, either, nor had Tarvek.
“Can Dr. Sun spare anyone, do you think?” Tarvek asked.
Gil grimaced. “Even if he can, we might have trouble getting his attention to ask. When he’s not on rounds, he’s elbow-deep in building new healing engines.” He paused. “Although we do have a new spark who could probably use the outlet....”
Tarvek snorted. “Dean would be happier about that than if Castiel starts rhapsodizing about bees, whatever that meant.”
Boris blinked. “Did I miss something?”
“Yes,” Gil and Tarvek chorused. “Be glad.”
“We should send Gadreel with him just in case,” Tarvek continued.
Gil nodded. “You think you can spare him, though?”
“Oh, yes, now that the Smoke Knights are clear on what’s going on. As long as I’m not in Castle Heterodyne, they’ll stick with me readily enough.”
“Castle Heterodyne’s probably the last place you’d need them. Of course, you could stay there until Gadreel returns.”
“Could, but shouldn’t. There are too many rumors about her having used mind control on me as it stands. And anyone who wants my opinion about the constitution will be looking for me in Sturmhalten. Come to that, it might be best for me to be seen publicly without Gadreel for a while-that would reaffirm my confidence in the Smoke Knights and give less credence to the idea that he’s managing me for Agatha.”
Gil tilted his head. “Fair enough. We just don’t want you getting killed because you’ve let your guard down.”
“Now that I’ve actually had time to sleep, I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”
“Good, because if you do get yourself killed, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.”
Tarvek snickered.
Gil rolled his eyes and then, feeling somewhat self-conscious because he’d never really tried to pray before, bowed his head and closed his eyes. After a moment of floundering for how to begin, he went with, “Castiel and Gadreel, angels of mercy, hear my prayer and... when you have a minute, can you come to Operations, please?”
He was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of wings, and he opened his eyes to see Castiel and Gadreel looking at him in mild amusement.
“Well, it’s a better prayer than Dean usually manages,” said Castiel. “He doesn’t say please unless Sam’s dying.”
Tarvek coughed in surprise.
“Er, right,” Gil said. “Speaking of dying, would you be willing to take on a healing mission to Holfung-Borzoi?” He handed Castiel the message from Princess Zulenna. “Dr. Sun’s busy, and we can’t really send anyone else when we don’t know what the disease is.”
Castiel frowned. “We’re not trained healers. Battle injuries are one thing, but-”
“We can always try,” Gadreel interrupted. “Someone must go to save as many lives as possible and to preserve goodwill for the empire in that kingdom. And if I’m not mistaken, the situation must be dire for Princess Zulenna even to ask.”
Tarvek blinked. “Because she was a hostage?”
“Because she was killed trying to help Agatha escape,” Gil admitted, “and Father insisted on bringing her back. She’s out of the line of succession now, and she resents that. Bitterly.”
Having caught the sharp side of Princess Zulenna’s tongue more than once, Tarvek could well understand what Gil meant and winced.
“Gadreel has a point. There aren’t any major sparks left in Holfung-Borzoi. They’ve probably already had to beg for help from the Grand Duchy of Orcznik, their bitter enemy, or else from Aalborg. They wouldn’t try to contact us if Dr. Sun weren’t their only hope.”
“That does put a different light on the matter,” Castiel agreed. “In that case, we should go and do what we can.”
Gil nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now where, exactly, is Holfung-Borzoi?”
Gil pointed it out on the map, but before he could explain anything about the place, the angels were gone.
Tarvek looked at Gil, eyes narrowed. “I’ve just thought. Isn’t it convenient for someone that both angels are going to be out of the way?”
Gil frowned. “You said yourself-”
“I know I did. And I’m not expecting another attack, at least not an obvious one. Honestly, I’m not sure what I do expect. It just seems odd that a case this urgent would come up now.”
“Coincidences do happen.”
“Maybe.”
“Do the Knights of Jove have anyone capable of engineering a plague like this?”
Tarvek thought. “Not to my knowledge.”
“Who else who knows about the angels would have the resources?”
“I don’t know, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone.”
“Well, from everything they’ve said, they’re more warriors than healers, so I’m sure they can get out of any trap that might be laid for them. And we’ll just redouble our own guard while they’re gone.”
Tarvek sighed. “All right, fine. Let’s go see if Dean and Miss Bradbury have that table working yet.”
“Yes, we should be getting back down.” Gil checked his watch. “It’s almost time for supper anyway.”
“Is it?” Boris asked. “Ergh. I hadn’t meant to sleep quite so long.”
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks, Boris. You needed it. And we were here, so it was all right.”
“And now you’re here,” Tarvek chimed in, “so we can go. I imagine we’ll be back in a few hours, though.”
Boris nodded, and Gil and Tarvek left.
Back on the ground, the pair checked in with Tarvek’s Smoke Knights, who were baffled to see them getting out of an airship, then went back into the castle and followed its directions to the lab where Agatha was helping Dean and Charlie make the final connections between a boxy processor unit and a table topped with what looked like a paper map sandwiched between two pieces of glass. Wooster was on hand, too, and looked a little guilty when Gil walked in.
“Not particularly classified, is it, sir?” Wooster asked.
Gil chuckled. “If you mean do I mind Albia knowing we have it? No, not particularly. Not sure what she’d do with the information, honestly.”
“Well, it is a point in favor of your assertion that the three of you want to keep the peace. I rather suspect my superiors still believe my reports tainted by the fact that you know I’m sending them.”
“But not what’s in them, and that’s the main thing.”
“Okay,” Dean said, going to the processor. “We ready?”
“Ready!” Agatha and Charlie chorused.
Dean flipped the main switch. The processor hummed and whirred for a moment, and then with a series of pings, pinpoint diodes lit up under the map, exactly representing the most recent intelligence on the rebellions in progress.
“HA!” Tarvek cried. “It works!”
“’Course it does,” Dean replied, pulling Charlie into a side hug. “Cas knows what he’s doin’, and so does Charlie.”
“And so do you,” Charlie stated, poking Dean in the ribs for emphasis.
Dean grinned sheepishly. “Tryin’ not to get used to it.”
“Oh, Dean.”
“So now what?” Agatha asked.
“Now, I think we stick with the original plan,” Gil answered. “Contain the revolts as best we can, work on cleaning out the labs of Lucrezia’s servants, get the data core out of the beacon engine, and give people a week to consider the new constitution. The map table just gives us a better way to monitor the situation further abroad and make new plans if we need them.”
Tarvek nodded. “Makes sense to me.”
“But first,” Wooster said sternly, “supper, Master Gil.”
Dean’s stomach growled in agreement, and everyone laughed.
Compared to the previous week, Gil’s second week as ruler of Europa was relatively quiet. Most of the popular uprisings died down almost immediately once the constitution was announced, and those that didn’t and those that were spark- or noble-led to begin with were more easily contained. After dismantling the beacon engine and giving Selnikov’s head a severe brow-beating for information, Tarvek took charge of planning the raids on Lucrezia’s labs and servants and executing them with the help of the Jägers, which also served to rally the Smoke Knights and the anti-Lucrezia parties among the Knights of Jove even more securely to his cause. Castiel and Gadreel did find a genuine outbreak of something or other in Holfung-Borzoi and cleaned it up as best they could, though not before it spread to neighboring principalities that immediately clamored for their help. And Xerxsephina von Blitzengaard did finally surface to propose marriage to Gil, which he declined as politely as he knew how.
It was thus a reduced complement of planners who converged on the map table lab for the next scheduled strategy meeting on the following Friday afternoon. The human members of the Men of Letters were all there, of course, since five of them had stayed behind in Mechanicsburg to begin with and Gil hadn’t gone more than a day’s flight away. Also present were Boris, Tarvek, Agatha, Zeetha, Violetta, Krosp, and Mamma Gkika. Everyone else was away on other business, including von Mekkhan, who was at his usual place in the coffee house collecting intelligence for Agatha. But though Tarvek had brought von Bulen and a couple of other Knights of Jove in addition to his Smoke Knights, he still couldn’t convince any of them to come into Castle Heterodyne with him. Gil thought that might be just as well, given the givens-especially since Charlie met everyone else in the hall with a thick book in her hand.
“What’s that?” Agatha asked her.
“Illustration,” Charlie replied, holding up the book so Gil could see the English title, The Lord of the Rings. “Since you guys aren’t used to the computer jargon we’ll be using to talk about the beacon engine data, I figured you might want something to give you a sense of scale.”
“So did you get your adapter thingummy to work?” Tarvek asked as they walked toward the lab.
“We did! Dean’s the one who finally fixed it and found us a stable power supply.”
Dean pretended he hadn’t heard her. Gil fought the urge to laugh.
Tarvek didn’t notice. “And you got the data off the core all right?”
“That was the easy part,” said Sam. “Since Cas said the remains of Lucrezia’s ghost are currently inert, we figured we should hang onto the core for a backup just in case something goes wrong with the copy that’s on Charlie’s external drive. Fortunately, since we have the external drive and a USB hub, we can use both her computer and mine, and Kevin’s if he’s not using it, to go through the data that’s on it.”
“Pretty sure Cas brought Dean’s laptop, too,” Kevin said. “But I can help out when I’m done with the constitution stuff.”
Gil nodded. “And how is the data analysis progressing?”
“The good news is, we can open the source code in a plain text file,” Charlie reported. “That means we can sort through the data without running Lucrezia’s program. We can even divide it into smaller chunks to make it easier to navigate and harder to launch.”
“What’s the bad news?” Agatha asked.
“It’s six terabytes of data. For comparison, this?” Charlie held up her book again. “Is only three and a half megabytes, even in rich text format, which preserves things like italics-maybe four if you include all the maps and runes.”
“And bytes are counted in Base 8,” Sam added, “so I’m sure you can do the math yourselves.”
Gil did so and let out a low whistle.
Sam nodded. “Exactly. We’re talkin’ Library of Congress, here.”
Dean frowned. “How the hell did all that data fit in a clank’s head?”
“This is the source code, not the executable file,” Charlie replied. “Essentially, what the beacon engine did was download ‘Lucrezia.exe’ into the clank, without the source code included. That would be only, what, two hundred, three hundred megs?”
“Something like that, yeah,” Sam agreed. “Maybe smaller; there might be a separate log file for memories that would be more highly compressed. If there is, though, it’s linked to the executable file too closely for us to find and open separately. Plus, the source code duplicates data that would be included in a person’s... operating system, for lack of a better term-how to walk, talk, eat, and so on. The program would rely on that data already being present.”
“That could also explain why Zola couldn’t access all of Lucrezia’s memories, if data was lost in the transfer from Agatha to her. Lucrezia might even have chosen a lossy data compression protocol deliberately as a failsafe.”
Gil exchanged a bewildered look with Agatha. It wasn’t often he was thoroughly lost when listening to other sparks, but all this talk about data almost like a singular substance was practically a foreign language.
“So how long will it take to go through it all?” Tarvek asked as the group walked into the lab, where a conference table had been brought in for the meeting.
“Too long,” Sam and Charlie chorused.
“I mean, yeah, the Spark gives us ludicrous speed,” Charlie continued, “but so far, we haven’t even succeeded in distinguishing the operating system code from higher knowledge and memories. And it’s all in binary. Even with both of us working on it....”
“It’s gonna take months,” Sam agreed. “And that’s assuming we can come up with a program that can translate the binary into a code language like XML, which is still unwieldy but easier to decipher.”
“And still accessible without running the program.”
“Right. I mean, we can probably set up some sort of search function, but until we know what keywords to search for-”
The discussion was interrupted by a ping from the map table. Then another. Then another. Ping... ping... ping, ping, ping, pingping pingping pi-pi-pi-pi-pi-pi....
Gil took a deep breath. “Right. Boris? Plan B.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Boris replied promptly and pulled two packets of paper out of his portfolio, handing one each to Tarvek and Agatha, before going to the map table to start taking notes.
Tarvek frowned as he accepted his copy. “What’s this?”
“The Knights of Jove have evidently convinced the people that there’s only one way they’ll have peace and freedom,” Gil replied. “It’s time to give them what they want.”
“Give them-”
“If the terms of that treaty meet with your approval, we’ll crown the Storm King in Vienna on Midsummer’s Day.”
Tarvek was so staggered, he had to catch himself on the conference table. “Mid-you can’t be serious.”
“Have you got a better idea?”
“No, but-but-your empire-what’s-what’s the catch?”
“None. I’m giving it to you.”
“And you know what they say about gift horses,” Kevin added.
“Father never intended to hold power indefinitely,” Gil continued. “It was the only way he knew to keep the peace after what Lucrezia did to Europa. But clearly, force isn’t working anymore, and neither is reason. Besides which, you’re the one who’s made a sacred vow to wipe out Lucrezia’s work, and no one knows her work better than you do. We’ll still cooperate with you, obviously. But it’ll be easier for you to do what needs to be done when you’re in command of the people and resources you need to do it.”
A tear rolled down Tarvek’s cheek. “Gil, I... I don’t know what to say.”
Gil smiled. “Read the treaty first. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Tarvek nodded. “Right, yes, good idea.” He let Sam steer him into a chair and started reading.
Agatha had already gone off in a corner with Zeetha, Krosp, Charlie, and Mamma Gkika, who were all reading over her shoulder and discussing quietly. With the hands that weren’t writing, Boris handed a third copy of the treaty to Gil and remarkably didn’t look terribly ruffled by the lack of decorum or the fact that Wooster was still in the room. Then again, this was an emergency negotiation, and Wooster had sort of become the unofficial British ambassador to Mechanicsburg.
Boris didn’t need to know that Wooster, and therefore Albia, already knew what Plan B entailed. And he definitely didn’t need to know that Albia had already agreed to Wooster’s twist. That part was a Men of Letters secret.
Gil skimmed through his copy of the treaty before sitting down next to Dean and Wooster and sliding the papers over for them to skim in turn. Since Tarvek was on his own, Violetta, Kevin, and Sam sat with him and murmured a few comments here and there, to which Tarvek occasionally responded. And still the map table kept pinging. Dean went over to look at it, then motioned to Boris to recommend troop movements for keeping the peace until they could get the treaty signed.
Finally, Tarvek set the papers on the table, took off his pince-nez to set on top of the papers, and ran both hands over his face. “It’s too good to be true. You’re handing me practically everything I’ve ever wanted on a silver platter, down to my choice of the military units to be transferred to my command, aside from the Jägers. You’ve even let me keep Sturmhalten. But the treaty’s language is so straightforward, there aren’t any loopholes or ways any of the terms could be misinterpreted. I keep looking for the catch and not finding it.”
“Dude, you’re not a Winchester,” said Dean. “There’s no law that says you can’t have dreams come true without their being your worst nightmares.”
“Dean,” Sam chided, though he was plainly fighting laughter.
Agatha’s group came back to the table then with some suggested changes to the trade terms, which set up a good half-hour’s worth of spirited haggling that took the edge off Tarvek’s shock. Boris annotated Gil’s copy of the treaty as each new agreement was reached, and when Agatha and Tarvek both agreed to all the other terms as written at the end of the half hour, Gil sent Boris back to Castle Wulfenbach to prepare the final draft and dispatch troops as Dean had recommended. Tarvek took his own annotated copy with him to explain to his retainers, and Agatha went to see about supper, taking most of the group with her. That left Gil, the Winchesters, and the infernally pinging map table. Gil steeled himself to go look at it, saw how widespread the revolts were, and immediately wished he hadn’t.
Dean put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. Nobody can say you didn’t try. And at least you had a Plan B.”
“I thought we’d have more time,” Gil sighed, bracing himself on the edge of the map table. “I knew the peace had been tenuous for years, but... I was responsible for all those lives.”
“You couldn’t have saved them all, Gil,” Sam said quietly. “And it’s not even like the bloodshed’s your fault to begin with. Beating yourself up over it gets you nowhere.”
Gil huffed and smiled wryly. “Voice of experience?”
Dean nodded. “Seriously. If you don’t believe us, ask Cas.”
“Yeah,” Sam chuckled. “May feel like the world’s ending right now, but trust me, the actual end of the world is way worse.”
“And then you find out there are fates worse than that.”
Gil looked from one brother to the other. “I’m glad you’re here. Truly.”
Both brothers smiled at the same time, and Dean squeezed Gil’s shoulder and let go.
“I’m sure Tarvek’s going to invite you to the coronation,” Gil continued. “But I’m equally sure Zeetha’s going to want to wear something outrageous, so I think you can get away with white tie rather than court dress. We’ve got some time, though, so Wooster can coach you.”
“That would help,” Sam admitted. “It’s been, what, eight years since Dean last wore a tux?”
Dean shook his head. “I don’t even remember.”
“It was before you went to Hell. Remember, when we went to that black-tie auction....”
“With Bela. Right, right. Man, even Chuck thought that one was bad.”
“That sounds like a story I ought to hear on the way to supper,” Gil interrupted, smiling.
“It’s stupid,” both brothers warned at the same time.
“All the better.”
Dean chuckled, and the three of them left the room. Gil thought the map table stopped pinging abruptly, but he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just distance or his own imagination.
Conversation over supper was subdued, and there was almost none on the flight up to Castle Wulfenbach. Wooster stayed behind, of course, and so did Agatha’s Jägers and Kevin, but everyone else who’d been at the meeting went, as did Tarvek’s party. Boris had been too busy updating the treaty to get to Operations yet, but he did have the treaty ready for them when they arrived, and the final review drew no objections from either Tarvek or Agatha. So they signed-Gil, Tarvek, and Agatha as parties; Boris, Zeetha, the Winchesters, Charlie, Mamma Gkika, von Bulen, and a couple of other Wulfenbach and Sturmvoraus functionaries as witnesses-and Gil suddenly felt a huge burden slide off his shoulders. The empire was Tarvek’s problem now; Gil would support him, of course, but the odds of the current Baron Wulfenbach gaining a reputation for being as irritable and tyrannical as his father had just dropped considerably.
“Right,” Gil said as Boris shook pounce over the signature page to dry the ink. “We’d better head to Operations to get Dean’s troop placements implemented while we can still save some lives.”
“Good idea,” Tarvek agreed. “We can sort out the details of the transfer later.”
With that, they all trooped into Operations, which was... not the bustling hive of activity Gil was expecting. In fact, the map showed no indication of new revolts at all.
“Perhaps there’s been a delay in our communications,” Boris suggested, but he didn’t sound like he quite believed it.
Gil wasn’t sure he believed it, either, but he said, “Well, it can’t hurt to-”
“HERR BARON!” cried a messenger boy on a unicycle, waving a radiogram as he wheeled into the room. “We’ve just had word of a new revolt in East Krumminey!”
“Where the hell is East Krumminey?” the Winchesters chorused.
“That was one of the first revolts the table reported,” Boris murmured.
Gil braced himself as he held out his hand for the radiogram. “How many dead?”
“None yet, Herr Baron,” the messenger replied, handing over the form. “The rioters are still massing. But the governor thought it prudent to send word now.”
Frowning, Gil read the message, which was exactly as the boy had said. “And you’ve had no other reports of violence today?”
The messenger shook his head. “Not by radio, Herr Baron.”
Gil looked at the message again, trying to make sense of the situation. “Then, did... did the table predict, or....”
Dean suddenly muttered a very harsh English curse that didn’t have a close German equivalent, followed by something about angels, and stomped out of the room.
Sam cleared his throat. “Best to treat it as a prediction and act accordingly. Excuse us.” And he followed Dean, with a confused Charlie jogging after him.
Gil drew a deep breath and folded the radiogram in half absently. “Boris, would you....”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Boris responded and immediately went to work, ushering Mamma Gkika and von Bulen over to the map so they could see where he was ordering the troops.
Tarvek and Agatha converged on Gil, and Zeetha crowded in just behind them. “You all right?” Tarvek asked.
Gil nodded slowly and looked him in the eye. “I think I know who wanted Castiel and Gadreel out of the way.”
Tarvek frowned. “Who?”
Gil almost didn’t dare answer out loud, so taking a cue from Baby, he whistled quietly, The eyes of Texas are upon you....
Tarvek, wide-eyed, mouthed the final line: ’Til Gabriel blows his horn.
Gil nodded slowly.
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