by Gin Hollan
“Oh, right. A collection of crystals will rise up out of the ground around that blue one, pulling up enough stone to shape a console. You will use these crystals to perform different functions.”
None of it made sense, but Arabeth decided she had nothing to lose in the attempt. She pushed the crystal down that next little bit. The ground around her started to vibrate and hum. Standing, she backed up until she stood beside the old man.
A group of what had to be about 20 crystals, most of them clear coloured, rose up in an oval around the initial blue crystal. They stopped their ascent at about 1 metre.
“Okay, this is new - at least to me.”
“Ignore that.” His eyes were wide as he stared. In this light it gave him an eerie, obsessed look.
The knot in her stomach shifted and she paused, looking at him.
“Why are you helping me? There's always a price.” She should have asked this first, she realized, but he'd probably lie if he thought she'd stop.
“I want you to undo that evil of our progenitors. I will teach you how.”
“You expect me to undo time – or more specifically, undo specifically one group of people from a mass execution?” She couldn't believe the words as they came out of her mouth. It wasn't even possible, let alone reasonable. “I cannot not raise the formerly dead.”
“The truth of it is, they aren't truly dead. They are in stasis, trapped in time. The small minds outside from your era cannot comprehend this truth. Even when explained, they refused to understand.”
“Humour me. If we are going to undo a great evil, I should like to try and understand it.”
“You've been to Vensay, and he went through the cave. What did you see on the other side?”
“Trees, the crystal field, a small wake in town with an interesting history. Miles and miles of shrubs and dust.” Arabeth shrugged. It was all weird to her, except the trees. “It never seems to rain over there. No one was growing wheat, or barely, or any sustaining crop, until we got underground.”
“What else? Did you not turn to face the cliff wall at some point?”
Arabeth inhaled slowly as the meaning of his words came clear. “The people. Are you telling me those people are real, and they are in some form of stasis in the cliff wall?”
He nodded. “Yes, and they are unaging. When you found that first Lyar, it attuned all lyars to you. I don't know why, but now you are the only one who can get those people out.”
“I'm sure there must be others who can do this,” she laughed nervously.
He stared at her a moment then shook his head slowly. “You are the only one I've heard of. You are the first one to make the lyars react in 150 years. They were dormant until you set foot in Vensay. You can't deny your fate.”
// Chapter 5 //
“SHOW ME AGAIN.” Arabeth's temper rose a bit every time Tamden told her the steps. “Slow down and explain this.”
“I told you - think of it as magic. You don't have to understand it to use it.”
“I'm not sure I want to use a technology you can't explain.”
The old man's arms dropped to his sides. “Your temperament could use some work, young lady. You want to free those trapped, right? Then trust me. Do as I say and nothing more.”
“Look, I work with gadgets. That's what I do. It's all about the parts - the interplay of chemical and solid, gears and gas. If you want me to succeed, let me take this apart and figure out what makes it tick.” She couldn't do that in Vensay. They'd all been destroyed then plowed under. “I do not understand how it can tell where my hands hover, or why it senses me.” If it was the silver in her blood, would it demand an ounce at some point? She wasn't going to talk about that with this veritable stranger. She didn't need to. She needed to get at its inner workings, but this frustrating little man would not agree.
“And what if you can't put it back together? We're not taking that chance.”
Arabeth nearly choked on her response, forcing herself to remember there were bigger things at stake than her pride. Later, once this tiny old dictator was gone, she'd rip this contraption apart and see exactly what is was about.
“Fine, we'll do it your way.” The motions did remind her a little of the sign language she and Sam used back in their youth, when they wanted to talk without being overheard.
“All right - prepare yourself. This is going to hurt,” his voice was softer this time. Her eyes met his and she saw a bit of excitement mingled with his previous stubbornness. “Once you are skilled, you can order the Lyar to disassemble and reassemble. You won't need to pull it apart. Right now, that effort would kill you - especially with your delicate mind.”
“My delicate ….” she shook her head, deciding to ignore it.
“Focus!” he snapped.
She sighed and shook her arms out. “Show me again. What do I do first?”
“Wait, wait, wait … I forgot something.” He turned and rummaged through a sack that sat to one side, next to a small boulder. “Here's what we're missing.”
He dropped a colour-graduated crystal Arabeth hadn't seen before. It blended from green at one end to orange at the other.
“Okay, watch and do,” he said as he started to draw shapes in the air in front of them. Arabeth did her best to copy, but still she was surprised when the crystals responded. In front of her a spherical blur seemed to hover and pulse. Tamden made another motion but stopped.
“Focus here. Watch then retry.” He started making a circular motion with his hands and she copied. “Keep your arms fluid this time. Tell it what you're looking for, with specificity. Say you want to free those trapped by this Lyar.”
She repeated what he said, irritated that she was talking to an unseen force. This wasn't prayer, though. This was … very different. She felt as though the words were manipulating something, controlling it. The portal in front of her grew.
“Now do this.” He reached out in front of himself, extending one finger first and tapped a spot. “Go that far and tap, like I did.”
Arabeth did and as her finger reached, she suddenly felt as though she was wearing a lead suit. Every part of her weighed down and she wondered if her knees would hold up.
“Now, snap your hand back toward yourself, from the wrist, then lower your arm.”
She did, shocked at how slowly she was moving. Snap her hand back? She could barely move it all.
“Stop thinking about the effort. Think about the outcome. You want those people out. Get them,” he said, voice crisp and sharp.
Arabeth closed her eyes and did as he said. It was easier this way. Something fluttered in front of her and she opened her eyes to see a middle-aged man spill onto the ground in front of her. She turned to look at him, but Tamden yelled, “Focus here! Close the rift.” He mimed another series of actions for her.
She copied and the portal closed.
Tamden smiled broadly, though there was a bit of embarrassment in it. “Finally, my life's mission is complete.”
Arabeth turned, barely seeing the rock that cracked against the side of her head. Pretending to fall unconscious, Arabeth slumped to the ground.
Tamden was cackling, gleeful.
The new man stood, one hand on Tamden’s shoulder.
“Well done … what's your name? You look like Claude. Are you a relative? Either way, thank you for getting me out of there. I am Howard Arba and I will see that the Mishvar Alliance reward you greatly. Now let's take down this mountain.” He clapped the old man on the back and the two men walked away, not seeming to give her another thought.
The side of her head throbbed and she wouldn't doubt there was a cut. How could they just leave her lying out like this, potentially bleeding to death?
She waited for them to clear the thicket then moved to sit up. Her motions were slow. Had he hit her harder than she thought? Sitting up with her legs stretched out in front of her, she looked around. Arabeth used one fingertip to lightly touch the spot over her ear where she'd been struck. It di
d feel damp. Blood? She looked at her finger. It was red. Looking at her shoulder, she saw a couple drops of blood. Not a bad cut then, she decided. She stood and brushed the dirt off her legs. Katie should still be outside the lyar, loosely tied to a high branch. They could catch up to her attackers. Then what, though? She didn't have her satchel. She'd fallen out of the habit of packing it with her everywhere.
Kate waited, still tied to a high branch, looking a little irritable but none the worse for the waiting. Arabeth mounted and pressed Kate forward into a lope, keen to catch her attackers.
At the edge of the city, Arabeth slowed Kate. A beacon of light shot straight up to the clouds from the general direction of her home. A knot formed in Arabeth's stomach and she turned to head straight there. Kate sped up to a brisk walk, sensing Arabeth's anxiety. As they approached her home, Arabeth saw a multi-colour glow rising higher than the seven foot plank fence she had surrounding her back yard.
Graham would have been long gone. Trying not to speculate about crystal-lyar links, she urged Kate into a gallop. Home again, Marble came rushing out to see her, running and spinning around at her feet. She seemed excited, but worried at the same time. She slipped a halter and lead rope on Kate, fastening it to a fence post.
Inside, she moved from room to room, looking for something that would upset her fox. The kitchen was tidy, as was the living room. There were no signs of small, furry encroachers like ferrets or cats. Marble would have simply dispatched them, anyway.
She continued toward the other end of the house. Her bedroom door was open, as it should be. So was her workshop … she felt her chest seize up. That should have been shut and locked.
Forcing herself to inhale, she hurried over. Inside, she scanned for changes. The room felt 'off', but she was hoping that was her imagination.
Her desk was a mess. Normal mess, she corrected.
The worktable she'd soon have hovering sat, giving no clues it did anything but sit. Items on top of it were where she remembered them. Good.
Her toolbox still held ratchet-sized items, but sat half open on the floor at the edge of one row of shelving. Normal.
She walked between the four rows of shelving her gadgeteering parts and supplies sat on. It would be hard to tell if anything here was missing, but nothing was pulled out or sat oddly.
She knelt down and gave her a good scratch as she considered what might have upset the fox. Marble seemed to smile at that, tipping her chin up and making funny squeaking sounds. Arabeth chuckled then picked Marble up, carrying her as she continued a more relaxed scan around the room.
Marble licked her on the cheek once then relaxed down into her arms.
Walking out of her workshop toward the kitchen, her eyes spotted something under her desk, back against the wall. The old toolbox her grandfather had given her sat open. Did she leave it like that? Not out here.
Suddenly she remembered - that's where she'd tucked the Sage's book hoping that out of sight would mean soon out of mind. She knelt down, setting Marble near her, and crawled under the desk.
The book was gone. Just gone. Arabeth sat back on her heels, staring at the box. Who would have known it was there?
Now that she knew what was gone, she understood why the room felt different. That strange little book was not just a strange little book, after all. It held formulae that somehow came to life when Arabeth ran her fingertip over the words and symbols. Even with her not knowing the language, she'd transported herself, desk and all, out into the desert then back home again, just by that light finger contact as she tried to understand the meaning.
And now someone else had it. If that were Tamden or the new guy, Howard, that did not bode well. Arabeth felt a sense of dread wash through her. It had to be them. Where had they gone from here?
She was unaccustomed to the sensations this level of fear created, feeling a mix of awkward, jumbled emotions and thoughts swirl through her. She couldn't track people who vanished into thin air, and even if she could find them, she'd be outgunned. They had the book, and likely knew exactly how to use the knowledge and formulae inside.
With power like that, their target would be bigger than Blastborn, more strategic. She'd send a message to King Andun and let the people who actually knew about this stuff deal with it. It was the only logical conclusion. A nagging sense of disappointment in herself began to build, but she pushed it down. Sam was working with Andun. He'd track the men down and capture them with the knowledge and backup a King offered.
She knelt down and picked Marble back up, stroking her fur. One step at a time, she thought. First, she'd feed her fox. She had youngsters to nurse. Helpless aside from that, she’d return to her normal life and try to pretend none of the day’s events had happened until a clue presented itself. She doubted the wait would be long.
// Chapter 6 //
“ARABETH, CAN YOU answer a question from the female perspective for me?” Nate asked, staring intently at the metal tube he propped between the two interior walls of a small boat. It was an inch wide, but a volleyball-sized bump in the middle.
They worked in the large workshop today. Her new project was moving forward nicely. It was a small frame metal skimmer, and she'd worked out the calculations that would make it hover, with the right amount of the new metal and a small heater to cause a reaction.
The hard part was making it attach to anything. Every time she'd heated it to something malleable, the metal snapped to a semi-solid, glob state. She'd finally decided she'd need a mold for everything she made with it. If it weren't such a rare metal, she'd make items out of it completely, but her plan to use it in amalgams was stalled.
She'd decided to go with the crazier of her plans. Flying ships. With the right calculations, it could work, but Nate's question had broken her concentration.
“I suppose. What's on your mind?” She was fitting a small, hopefully effective cooling device to the outer edges of the metal brace he held. Without it, the metal might come free when she heated the center to cause lift. At least the metal was contained. Balancing the lift from front to back and side to side was going to be another challenge. She'd worked out a control system. She just hadn't built it yet.
Nate coughed to get her attention.
“Sorry, what?” she said, tightening the last screw holding this new tube to the skimmer frame.
“I get that women want romance and affection, a steady income and so forth … but what makes a woman decide one way or the other. For example, you've called Samuel Hicks your dearest friend - how is it you two haven't … you know … gotten hitched? Is there someone else you fancy that way?”
Arabeth's face flashed red and she cleared her throat. “That's a little pointed, don't you think?” He was asking an honest question. Waving her hand dismissively, she turned back to her work. “He has asked and I’ve accepted. We just haven't set a date.”
“I'm just wondering what the difference is between a man you marry, and one you want as a friend.”
“Since you've decided to be direct, I'll return the favour - I don't want to become anyone's property. Marriage material means the woman feels safe, even in that state, or thinks they can control their husband.”
“If you're worried you won't be treated fairly after the wedding, why not write that into the vows or contract?”
“There wouldn't be a point to a contract with that clause,” Graham stepped into the room.
“Either way …” He gave her a funny look. “She's got an unfortunate history you don't need to delve into.”
“I’m guessing it’s part of the Widow Dane stories I’ve heard. That your husband was hiding his cross-dressing and illicit activities from you had to be a shock.”
“Nate, you are too curious sometimes,” Arabeth's voice was barely above a whisper. She hadn’t known. “Why are you asking about relationships? Did something happen with Heather?”
“My apologies, Arabeth,” he nodded. “I became curious when I explained to her that I'm focusing on work r
ight now, she said it was too bad - that I was her idea of the perfect husband material.”
“Heather prefers the work-obsessed, does she?” laughed Graham. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need my spanner back. Where would that be hiding?”
“Over there.” Arabeth pointed to a bread box-sized metal bin on her third work table.
“Wait …” Graham frowned then dropped his goggles down over his eyes. “This is different.”
Arabeth turned abruptly, realizing one of her work tables currently hovered three inches off the floor.
“What have you got here, my dear?” he spoke absently as he ran his hands over the table. “Patent pending, no doubt, but tell me a bit.” He pressed down lightly on one of the corners and it sank, just a bit. Leaning over, he looked underneath.
“Why is everyone prying into my life today?” she sighed. “I found a way to make metal lighter. Happy now?” She walked over and pulled the spanner off her nearest work table. “Take it and go. I'll tell you more once I am able.”
“Nate, you knew about this.” He looked to the other man, his tone accusatory.
“Sure, but its top secret and so forth.”
“Very well, girl, I'll keep your secret, as long as you sign me on as your first customer.” He pushed alternating sides of the table, watching it drift back and forth in front of him.
Arabeth laughed. He was back to his old self, calling her girl, and nosing into everything. “Fine. I'll build you one too, but it may be a while.”
“How do you change the elevation, or is it set as relative to the floor?” he asked. “I know the protocol is to not ask, my dear, but you can trust me. We've been through things together.”
Trust Graham? Arabeth stopped herself from laughing. She looked at him with that question in mind. There was a reason for the protocol. The Making community was tight-knit and had a tendency toward sharing secrets. Once told, it was soon community knowledge.
She didn't need Graham prying. He was far too quick of mind. Even now, she could see the gears whirling behind his eyes as he scanned the room for a clue.
