by Frank Morin
They both laughed and Verena said, “Hamish, don’t you dare sip my fuel mixtures. They would be deadly.”
He made a noncommittal sound in response. It constantly amazed him how little most other people understood about taste. Connor had talked about his remarkable experience in that spice-eating contest against Verena’s father, but didn’t seem to have taken the right long-term lessons from it. Hamish would find a way to help them ascend the taste threshold eventually. He would find the right recipe.
Verena said, “Hamish, if you’d piloted the new Juggernauts instead of that prototype against Harley, you might not have needed Connor’s help to take her down.”
“If only,” Connor said.
Yeah, that would have been amazing. Harley had wielded incredible Petralist powers and many people had died or suffered terrible injuries, including Ilse, and of course Jean. To take his mind off of Jean’s plight he said, “So now that the engine is working, you need a new project to keep dodging Wolfram’s treaty meetings.”
Verena grimaced. In addition to the vast resources pouring into New Schwinkendorf from across Granadure, the nations of the Arishat League had committed many of their finest minds and newest weapons to help.
They’d created an entire encampment for the Arishat League, a small but rapidly growing city of its own on the northern boundary of Schwinkendorf valley, near the Nister River. Complete with earthen buildings to garrison several military companies, huge workrooms for their pieces of joint research, and a palatial hall to house the international delegates and high officers.
Not surprisingly, the Althin diplomats had insisted on formalizing the arrangement through a new treaty. Granadure temporarily ceded the land of their encampment to the Arishat League so they didn’t have to live and train on Grandurian soil. In that small space, everyone met as equals. Lady Briet of Althing and General Wolfram served as the two joint commanders and led the international military planning.
Lady Briet had been trying to get Verena to participate more in the never-ending political meetings. She was good at it, and as a close relation to the king, the Althins were eager to get her signature on more documents. Luckily for Verena, there was so much work to do she’d never run out of excuses, and now that there would be a new lord of the city, they’d receive the brunt of new treaty attention.
“When is that test with the Varvakins?” Connor asked.
“Soon.” Hamish wouldn’t miss it.
He led them to the big windows overlooking the vast workroom and the literal army of workers, scientists, and Builders who swarmed over the shells of a full dozen Juggernaut mechanicals. The work continued at a feverish pace. The energy was contagious, and since they had no idea how much time remained before the queen launched her war, everyone expected it to come any day.
Hamish couldn’t imagine why the queen hadn’t struck yet, but she wouldn’t wait forever. The spring thaw was already beginning. He doubted she worried about dry roads and clear passes for her armies. Hamish worked as hard as possible in the calm they were enjoying before that storm, fueling his creative drive with buckets of sweetbreads. He hoped it was enough.
According to the reports they received from Connor’s Aunt Ailsa, who somehow still survived in Donleavy as one of the queen’s chief counselors, the queen was consolidating her hold over Obrion. The political situation was crazy. It sounded like the queen had beaten her own nobility into submission. She would soon turn her attention to the rest of them.
Connor whistled softly. “I’ve been so busy training, I haven’t been here in weeks. Last time, they were little more than frameworks. Now they look almost done.”
Verena snuggled closer to him. Seeing it made Hamish wish Jean was with him. “We’ve actually had the outer shells done for a while, but they get in the way when we’re testing the inner components. We’ve made some exciting breakthroughs with magnis and strum.”
Connor grunted and ran his hand through his unruly hair. “Those are what they used to knock me down yesterday, right?”
“Yeah. They’re new even to the Varvakins. They know enough to channel some of those forces, but we’re all still figuring out what they can do.”
“What do you know? How did they rip right through my elemental defenses?” Connor asked, looking disturbed and fascinated in equal measure.
Hamish was happy that strike had worked so well. If those forces could surprise Connor so much, they might be a key element in defeating Queen Dreokt. He’d started working on miniature versions of those spark posts. Might be able to drop them down the breeches of the new lord if they started making trouble and help them feel better connected to the research teams.
Verena said, “Magnis is the force that fuels a lodestone. It pulls steel.”
“It’s more than that, though. We’re finding ways to activate and deactivate the magnis grip force by coupling it with strum currents,” Hamish added.
Verena had dubbed the power of magnis “grip force” initially. He still preferred to think of it as “Invisible Breakfast”. He couldn’t imagine anything exerting a greater pull on someone in the morning than breakfast.
She had originally dubbed strum “Dancers’ Fury” since it seemed to be the same power that fueled the Merry Dancers that lit the northern skies of Varvakis on winter nights. Hamish still preferred that name over strum, but when Verena chose a name, no one overrode her opinion, and she’d decided strum was easier for folks to remember.
Verena said, “Strum is an energy current that reminds me of diorite, but it’s power the Varvakins have learned to harness in really remarkable ways.
That crackling energy was like bottled lightning. Hamish loved it. He hadn’t told Nicklaus that he was already developing a personal lightning mechanical. It was still early in the development phase, but he liked testing the miniature spark posts against his tongue. “The two energies are interrelated and we’re studying how to apply them. With Verena’s engine fueling it all, the Juggernauts will pack a lot of punch.”
“Well, let’s go see them up close,” Connor urged.
9
The Bigger the Challenge, the Bigger the Toys
Hamish was eager to share the amazing developments with his friends. The three of them exited Verena’s workroom and took the nearest stairs down toward the lowest level.
While they walked, Connor said, “I’m glad you came up with names we can pronounce. I can’t say the Varvakin words.”
“I thought you were working with Aifric to figure out how to use chert and serpentinite to learn new languages faster,” Verena said.
Hamish hoped it worked. Everyone needed to learn the languages of their allies, but most people struggled to pick up new words. It surprised him that most of his friends did not seem able to pick up languages as quickly as he did.
He loved how foreign words rolled off the tongue. He’d been practicing Varvakin and Althing. To him, new words were like new dishes, something to seek out and to relish whenever he could get one. He memorized new words as quickly as he memorized new tastes. It worked for him, just like tasting rocks.
Every language had its own flavor. The staccato rhythm of the Althing tongue was like hot-roasted almonds. Althing was a large country to the east of both Granadure and Obrion, along the Sea of Olcan. It served as the political seat of the Arishat League with no standing army of its own. Hamish didn’t think they had almonds there, but that’s what the language tasted like.
Varvakis was an enormous country even farther north than Granadure, and apparently the northern reaches of their lands never thawed in summer. They were burly warriors who made the best steel on the continent. They boasted few Petralists but were renowned as mighty warriors anyway. Their more guttural tongue felt more like pot roast and potatoes.
He hadn’t learned much about the Tabnit language yet. The strange people from the continent across the Sea of Olcan to the south kept to themselves. They were amazing sailors, and their sparky sparky boom drums, fueled by an explos
ively fast burning black powder rivaled diorite for destructive power. If only they’d brought more of it with them.
He loved the little he’d learned of the flowing, singsong tongue of Sehrazad. It was like a sweetbread flavored with foreign spices, perfect for a people who dressed in robes, rode camels, and wielded long, curved scimitars.
He’d heard snatches of Havaen, the native language of the Mhortair, and agreed with reports that it was considered the most beautiful language on the continent. Those sounds felt like a dessert smorgasbord. So many things to learn, and only one lifetime to learn it in. Sometimes that seemed unfair.
Connor said, “The last language test we did showed a lot of promise, but we haven’t had time to follow up on it.”
She nudged him with her elbow as they trotted down the long stair that zigzagged down into the bowels of the earth. “Find time.”
“My schedule is pretty busy. You want me to sacrifice the little time I get with you to do even more research?” he teased.
She squeezed his hand and said, “Of course not. We’re all doing our best. Did you discover any new secrets to linking minds with Aifric?”
Her tone was light, but Hamish noticed the same tension in her eyes he’d seen up in her workroom. She couldn’t be worrying about him mind-reading the new lord, could she?
Hamish was sure neither he nor Connor had mentioned the fact that they’d considered the idea. They’d quickly discarded it. Messing with other people’s minds was one of the queen’s most evil powers, and no matter how just their cause, they couldn’t start using those same horrific tactics. Connor couldn’t control other people’s minds like she could, but he was testing the limits of what he could do with Aifric. Understanding how chert worked could help him better defend himself.
Connor seemed oblivious to Verena’s tension. “We’ve practiced a lot, but it’s hard to get a strong connection. Both of us have to want it, and it’s draining. We managed it when we resurrected Aifric, but usually we can’t link that closely.”
“Do you think Aifric could initiate something like that without your help?” Verena pressed.
Good question. Hamish hadn’t considered that.
Connor thought about it as they descended the stairs. Walking down was so slow. Hamish preferred flying. Connor finally said, “I’m not sure. Maybe if she was ascended, but right now usually we have to work together. Why?”
“Oh, nothing important,” Verena said quickly. “Just trying to understand all that you can do.”
“Some days it’s tough to keep it all straight,” Connor said with a grin.
Hamish just listened. Verena was hiding something. Those questions hadn’t been for nothing.
Verena added, “Keep working at it. I know language learning isn’t high on the priority list, but like Jean always says, it’s good to spend some of our time doing research not directly tied with killing people.”
Hamish agreed completely, but they reached the bottom and he pushed open the door to lead them into the workroom. He paused to take a deep breath, savoring the smell of the giant workspace. In addition to the scents of steel, dust, and grease, the air vibrated with a low humming and carried a faint scent, like a whiff of charred toast.
Verena grinned, her eyes shining. Research rooms energized her. Connor glanced around, looking impressed.
He should. The room was packed with the dozen Juggernaut shells, rising like twelve-foot, spherical skeletons. Clusters of thick-coated wires crisscrossed the huge workroom like a swarm of really busy snakes, linking the shells and pumping life-giving energy into them.
Some of the wires crackled with strum, and the humming of that energy emanated from the Varvakin power supply in the far corner of the room. The big, blocky thing had been charged up by cables connected to some kind of power-collecting turbine in the Nister River overnight, then transported inside. Nine Varvakin scientists were scattered around the room, monitoring a series of gauges that measured the current.
It looked like they were ready for the coupling test. Strum energy was being fed by the generator, along the snarled mass of wires, and into the shells of a pair of the Juggernauts. None of the other interior components or weapons were installed. The test was only for the outer shell.
“We got here just in time,” Hamish exclaimed. With a thought, he activated thrusters and lifted off the ground to get a better view.
Fyodor, the lead Varvakin, gestured to an assistant standing by the power source, and the woman flicked a switch. The humming intensified and a couple of the wires with frayed coatings began to spark and crackle. Apparently it wasn’t serious enough to stop the test, but Hamish reminded himself to look twice before licking anything in there.
A couple of the other researchers pulled additional levers, causing hydraulic arms to roll the two Juggernaut shells together. Connor and Verena cautiously approached across the obstacle-covered floor. Hamish was too eager to wait. He pulled on his helmet and remotely activated sightstones connected to stones inside each of the shells that allowed him to see what was going on.
Hexagonal plates in each outer shell slid aside, powered by magnis instead of by quickened stones. The frames had been altered with openings so that as the hydraulic supports twisted the two Juggernaut shells, they interlocked. A series of clamps along both frames snapped closed, reinforcing the bond.
Hamish whooped and did a backward somersault as the Varvakins chattered excitedly in their guttural, native tongue. Hamish crossed the room to Fyodor, a burly man who always looked more comfortable in his plate armor than in his research clothes.
Fyodor listened to reports from several of his assistants before turning to Hamish with a wide grin. “Welcome, Builder. You arrive just in time. Test is good. Locking is tight and secure.”
Hamish pushed up his faceplate. “It looks good to me too. Those shells are as tight as teeth stuck in a smashpacked caramel cake.”
At Fyodor’s questioning look he said, “I’ll get you one later.”
Verena and Connor caught up and Fyodor bowed over Verena’s hand then gave Connor a happy smile. “Yesterday’s test was very good.”
He chuckled. “Better for you than for me. I can’t wait to learn more about how you did it.”
Hamish added, “It looks like you’ve stabilized the strum flow.”
Fyodor nodded. “We began harvesting this strum as you say only a year ago, but great progress has been made. Our capital city of Orlov is already being strung with wires for permanent lights. No longer will the long dark of winter hold us prisoner. This energy will change the world.”
The man had the heart of a poet, and Hamish knew by experience that he could also out-drink any three other people combined. They still hadn’t found a chance for a borsht eating contest. Fyodor insisted it was food fit for kings.
Hamish would believe that when he saw it. He’d eaten food fit for kings. What he didn’t doubt was that strum would indeed change the world. Builders were pushing the limits of science and magic with their inventions, but their work was always limited by the availability of power stone.
The Varvakins weren’t. They generated their power somehow from the moving waters of rivers and the movement of special lodestones that produced magnis. They’d only just started understanding the basics of the relationship between magnis and strum. To Hamish it still seemed as much like magic as any of the affinity powers.
Connor said, “It looked like you succeeded in locking those shells, but I don’t understand how you’re doing it.”
Hamish and Fyodor took turns explaining the recent test, how they used strum to power the hydraulics that moved the spheres, and how they used magnis to manipulate those outer plates in the shells. The techniques were so new, it felt like those early days of flying when they had been leaping into the sky without understanding anything about what they were doing.
It was really exciting.
Verena paced along the cables and over to the Juggernaut shells, her expression thoughtful, ab
sently chewing on her lower lip. That was a sure sign that she was having a moment of brilliance, even though he had not seen her eat a single cookie or piece of cake. Hamish regularly tried to encourage her to eat more sugar.
Think of what she could accomplish on a sugar high.
Then again, Verena liked punching people in the face. If she got too hyper, she might not be able to restrain herself.
She returned and reported on her most recent engine test. Fyodor looked thrilled to hear she’d stabilized the mix.
“Is very good. With so much power, we should be able to drive the rukoyatka.”
“He means magnis,” Hamish explained at Connor’s confused look.
Verena was nodding. “When we connect my engine to the gears linking to your magnis lodestones, we should be able to generate more than five times as much power as we did in the original Juggernaut.”
Fyodor gestured at his power source. “That is similar to how we harness this energy through the rivers. The waters move the lodestones, which create the rukoyatka. That in turn generates strum. We have always loved watching the Merry Dancers in the night sky in winter, but now they dance for us.”
Hamish loved how the pieces were coming together. “We should be able to use that stable flow of strum to drive more mechanicals.” He gestured at the two Juggernauts. “And it will help us lock the shells together to make Ilse’s Revenge.”
Connor laughed, but Verena gave Hamish that annoyed look she always did when he tried to name something. “I still don’t think that’s the right term.”
That was a nice way to put it. Usually she told him his names were stupid. He shrugged. “When you come up with a better idea, let me know. Until then, the super mechanical when we link all of these Juggernauts together into one greater whole will be known as Ilse’s Revenge.”
Connor smiled. “I like it.”
“And you like explosive vomiting on each other,” Verena pointed out with a laugh.
Hamish exchanged a look with Connor and together they shrugged. Best friends threw up on each other sometimes. Didn’t she understand that?
