Chimaera twoe-4

by Ian Irvine

  Flydd fell in beside Nish as they went inside. ‘Remember your despair after we came back from Nennifer and you couldn’t get anything done?’

  ‘I remember,’ said Nish.

  ‘Look how far you’ve come since. And keep it in mind, Nish, whenever you wilt under the burden of all we have to do – as I do. We just go one step at a time, and no matter how low we’re brought, we never, ever give up.’ He squeezed Nish’s shoulder and passed inside.

  Nish stood there for a moment in reflection. The plan had come a long way, and so had he. One step at a time. He smiled and followed.

  Two days later, with twenty people sewing the silk, the air-floaters were complete. He’d reclaimed the silk from the dirigible, and Inouye had discovered part of an air-dreadnought airbag hanging in a tree ten leagues away, giving them just enough to complete the airbag of the third air-floater. There had even been a little time to use the thapter for training the pilots and artificers. Every pilot had made at least one flight under Malien’s stern guidance. No one had crashed it, though there had been sufficient incidents to make Nish fear for what would happen if they did recover any machines from the battlefield.

  ‘Everything’s ready,’ he said to Yggur, after having worked all night. ‘We can go as soon as you say the word.’

  ‘Excellent!’ beamed Flydd. He shook Nish’s hand. ‘And on time, too. It’s a pleasure to deal with a man who’s as good as his word. Well, Yggur, if you would just explain to Nish how he’s to move the thapters without access to the field, he can be on his way.’

  Yggur looked as though he’d had no more sleep than Nish. ‘My devices aren’t ready yet.’

  ‘What?’ said Flydd, putting on a show of surprise. ‘But you said you were nearly finished a week ago.’

  ‘I am nearly finished, but I haven’t tested them to my satisfaction.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘There are a few wrinkles still to be ironed out.’

  ‘But everything depends on them.’ Flydd seemed to be taking a malicious pleasure in Yggur’s discomfiture. It was a weakness in his character that Nish could only appreciate, in the circumstances. The two mancers might be working together but they would be forever rivals.

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ Yggur said, stone-faced.

  ‘And the least delay to the schedule could be fatal to our chances of being ready for the spring offensive.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Yggur. ‘It could.’

  ‘Well, I won’t pretend that I’m not disappointed,’ said Flydd. ‘Bitterly disappointed, in fact. It’s a major setback.’ He gave Yggur a sly glance, then said cajolingly, ‘When do you think it will be ready?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘Not tomorrow!’ Yggur snapped.

  ‘What about the day after?’

  Flydd had such a strange, coquettish look on his craggy face that Nish wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d batted his eyelashes.

  Yggur cracked. ‘I don’t know, damn you.’

  ‘Then I won’t keep you,’ said Flydd. ‘I’m sure you’re anxious to get back to your workshop and try to make up for lost time. Good day.’ He nodded and turned away, taking Nish’s arm and pulling him after him. ‘Wipe that grin off your face, Artificer,’ Flydd said sternly. ‘Show some respect for your betters.’ But as soon as Yggur was gone, Flydd clapped Nish on the back, taking the sting from his words. ‘Well done, lad. You can go to bed now.’ He went off, whistling a cheerful air.

  The following day the thapter set off for the south-east, carrying the patterns for various devices that were to be made up by manufactories there, including Tiaan’s plans for master and slave farspeakers. It was to be a lightning trip, both Malien and Tiaan taking turns and going night and day, as Flydd hoped to be back in just over a week.

  The trip proved uneventful, apart from their first brief call at Tiksi, where Tiaan hoped to see her mother. Unfortunately Marnie was not at the rebuilt breeding factory.

  ‘She lost everything in the fire,’ said Matron. ‘I haven’t seen her in nearly a year.’

  ‘Poor Marnie,’ Tiaan wept. ‘Cast out on the streets with nothing. Doesn’t anyone know what happened to her?’

  She was unable to find out, for the city’s records had been lost in the fires.

  Thence they turned west to her old manufactory. Tall, dark-skinned Tuniz was still overseer, and she reminded Flydd of his promise, that if she met all her targets for a year he would send her home to Crandor, to the children she had not seen in two years.

  ‘I remember,’ said Flydd. ‘And have you met all your targets, Overseer?’

  ‘Not all, but nearly,’ she said, anxiously baring her filed teeth.

  ‘Then the condition has not been met and I owe you nothing!’ She winced. ‘Nonetheless,’ Flydd went on, ‘I do want to send you home, and will if you complete this last task to my satisfaction. I have here a number of samples.’ He showed her Golias’s globe, several different slave farspeakers Tiaan had made, plus her detailed designs of each. ‘Can you make me, say, ten master farspeakers, and one hundred of the slave variety, in a month?’

  ‘The slave farspeakers will be no trouble,’ said Tuniz, after a careful study of both. ‘The master globes are another matter.’ She ran her fingers through her frizzy hair and asked Tiaan a number of technical questions. Once they’d been answered to her satisfaction Tuniz said, ‘If I divert all of my crafters and artisans to the task, I believe we can do it, surr, though I’ll need to talk to my chief crafter to make sure.’

  ‘Call her. I plan to return in a month, more or less. Have them ready and I’ll take you home to Crandor in this thapter.’

  Her eyes shone. ‘It will be done, surr. You can count on it.’

  They went to several other manufactories nearby, where Flydd left other commissions, and headed directly home.

  ‘I’ve done as much as I can, for the moment,’ Flydd told Yggur when they arrived back at Fiz Gorgo on schedule. ‘Though to make a difference in the spring I have to give our allies more than words.’

  ‘I hope we can give them much more. Nish left just an hour ago for Snizort.’

  ‘Was he prepared?’ said Flydd, meaningly.

  ‘As well as could be managed. Though of course –’

  ‘I meant, did he have some way of moving the thapters in the absence of a field?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Yggur airily, as though it had been the most trivial of tasks, hardly worth discussing. ‘He could not have gone, otherwise.’

  ‘How is it to be achieved, as a matter of interest?’

  ‘Oh, I made up some little devices that store power,’ Yggur said in an offhand manner. ‘Enough to drive a thapter for leagues. I charged them up from the field just before he left.’

  ‘I noticed it was drawn right down as we came in,’ said Flydd. ‘Malien had more than a little trouble getting the last couple of leagues, and at one stage we thought we were going to come down in the swamp. What kind of devices?’

  ‘Just something I put together with a little tinkering,’ said Yggur.

  ‘Sounds like they could transform the war,’ said Flydd. ‘With enough of them we could make our craft independent of the field. Let the lyrinx attack the nodes as they dare, then.’

  ‘Unfortunately, the core of my devices relies on a most rare crystal, the only one known capable of storing the amount of power required. I had the only three in existence and I used them all.’

  ‘Might I know the name of this crystal?’ said Flydd casually, though he knew Yggur wasn’t going to tell him anything useful. Noble and dignified he might be, as a rule, but Yggur couldn’t resist the urge to get his own back.

  ‘Inkspar.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of it.’

  ‘It’s rare, as I said.’

  ‘Only three devices? That’s going to limit the number of thapters we can recover.’

  ‘If they recover more than three, which I doubt, they’ll have to shuttle the d
evices back and forth in the air-floaters. It’s inconvenient, but not a fatal problem.’

  ‘It could be if they’re under attack.’

  ‘It was the best I could do.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said Flydd. ‘It’s out of our hands now. They’ll either come back or they won’t. No point worrying about it.’

  ‘Plenty of point, just no use,’ said Yggur. ‘Oh, and I’ve found Merryl.’

  ‘Merryl?’ The scrutator frowned. So many names in the past couple of months. So many faces. ‘Ah, the one-handed prisoner. The fellow who speaks the lyrinx tongue. How did you find him?’

  ‘One of my spies was asking around and someone knew him. Merryl was in a refugee camp south of Gnulp Forest.’

  ‘Was?’

  ‘Well, he’s here now.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

  Hurrying down to the other end of the fortress, they ran into Tiaan, who was talking to Malien. ‘We’re going to talk to your friend Merryl,’ said Flydd. ‘Would you like to come along?’

  Her face lit up. ‘Merryl is here?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Yggur. ‘He came in with one of my spies on the air-floater this morning.’

  Tiaan had a lump in her throat. Merryl had cared for her in Snizort, asking nothing in return, and she would always think kindly of him for it.

  He was lying on a straw-filled pallet, asleep. His left arm, the one lacking a hand, hung over the edge of the bed. Merryl stirred as they entered, and sat up. He was very thin.

  ‘I am Yggur,’ said Yggur, ‘the master of this place, which is known as Fiz Gorgo.’

  ‘I know who you are, surr.’ Merryl’s eyes turned to the smaller man.

  ‘This is the scrutator, Xervish Flydd, and … where has she got to?’

  Tiaan stepped out from behind Yggur.

  ‘Tiaan!’ Merryl reached out to her. ‘I saw the Aachim take you. I was so afraid.’

  ‘That’s a long time ago now. What have you been doing these past months?’

  ‘Surviving. I became a slave for my own kind, hauling clankers out of the mud.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Flydd. ‘Not an occupation with much to recommend it.’

  Merryl gave him a curious glance. ‘After it was over, most of us were abandoned to our own devices. Some of the slaves joined the army, but I did not.’

  ‘Not willing to do your duty, Merryl?’ said Yggur.

  ‘I never shirked my duty, surr,’ Merryl said mildly, as if nothing anyone said could touch him. ‘And I’ve spent the past twenty years paying for it. Not liking what I saw of the scrutators, I pretended to be one of the peasants pressed into hauling duties, and afterwards I disappeared into the countryside.’

  ‘You must have had a lean time of it,’ said Flydd. ‘The armies had scoured the land bare.’

  ‘I went hungry more times than I ate, but I wouldn’t have changed anything. I’ve been a prisoner of the lyrinx for half my life. They treated me well enough but I lived with the threat of being eaten if my usefulness expired. After that, even the freedom to starve was a precious gift. Why did you bring me here?’

  ‘We need to know about the lyrinx, Merryl,’ said Yggur. ‘Particularly any weaknesses we can use against them.’

  ‘I’ll write out a list for you.’

  ‘Just tell us!’ said Flydd.

  ‘The thoughts don’t flow, with mancers and the like staring at me,’ said Merryl, unperturbed. After surviving all the enemy had done, no mere human could bother him. ‘I work better in solitude.’

  ‘Whatever gets us the list the quickest,’ said Flydd, turning away.

  ‘Just a moment,’ said Yggur. ‘Why did they make a tunnel to the centre of the Great Seep, and what did they find there?’

  ‘The remains of a village of ancient times, under edict for sorcerous practices, I understand,’ said Merryl. ‘Apparently the village sank into the tar and the lyrinx wished to recover some relics that had been lost at that time.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. Since I knew their language, they were always careful what they spoke about in my presence.’

  ‘And what did they find?’

  ‘Bodies, young and old, preserved in the tar, and other household items of that time. Some yellow crystals which, I heard, they were excited about. I didn’t see the relics, for the node exploded.’

  ‘Do they have any diseases or illnesses?’ asked Flydd.

  ‘Not many. They’re healthy, robust creatures, generally.’

  ‘But their children are sometimes born malformed, lacking the ability to develop wings. Sometimes they’re born without armour, skin pigment or claws.’

  ‘That’s so,’ said Merryl. ‘Such malformations are common, but not all survive to adulthood.’

  ‘I heard,’ said Yggur, leaning forward, ‘that one lyrinx working in the tar tunnel developed a dreadful skin inflammation that rendered him helpless.’

  ‘I saw several with that affliction,’ said Merryl thoughtfully. ‘They were in such torment that they sloughed their outer skin, though that was as agonising as if the layers of our skin were peeled away.’

  ‘The less said about that the better,’ said Flydd, rubbing his upper thigh.

  Merryl gave him a puzzled look. ‘Sometimes grit gets in between the armour and the inner skin, which is irritating to them. But this inflammation was much worse.’

  ‘Do you know what caused it?’ said Flydd. ‘Was it the tar?’

  ‘I believe it was a mould, or fungus.’

  ‘Do they often get this kind of complaint?’

  ‘I never saw it before, in all my time with them. It may have come from one of the relics they found in the tar.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Yggur. ‘That’s most interesting.’

  PART FOUR

  GEOMANTIC GLOBE

  FORTY-FIVE

  Nish breathed a sigh as the last air-floater lifted. They were finally on their way to Snizort. Though the expedition was well behind schedule, no one could have done it more quickly, and what they’d achieved was nothing short of miraculous. All the pilots had flown Malien’s thapter, though few more than twice. That was his biggest worry, apart from the state of the abandoned constructs. He was afraid they would be too damaged to repair.

  They arrived over the battlefield just before dawn. Everything had been rehearsed. The four air-floaters would fly low across the site as soon as it was light, while Nish and the other artificers identified those constructs in the best condition. The pilots and artificers would go to work and three air-floaters would wait on the ground. The fourth would take a wandering path over the battlefield, to raise the alarm if the enemy appeared. Snizort seemed to be abandoned but Nish wasn’t taking any unnecessary risks. There were too many necessary ones.

  ‘How long have we been working towards this day?’ he said, leaning on the rope rail of Inouye’s air-floater. The east was growing light, though there were still some minutes until sunrise.

  ‘It’s two months since we got back from Nennifer,’ said Irisis.

  ‘I never thought we’d get this far.’

  ‘Nor did I. But then, I try not to expect anything. Saves disappointment.’

  ‘How many constructs were abandoned here, do you recall?’

  ‘Tiaan said about five hundred.’

  ‘And how many of those could have been repaired,’ Nish wondered, ‘if the node hadn’t been destroyed?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have a clue.’

  ‘Imagine if we could bring a hundred thapters back,’ he said dreamily.

  ‘That would certainly be a marvel,’ she said dryly, ‘since you’ve only managed to train thirty pilots.’

  He came back to reality. ‘True; but just imagine the look on Yggur’s face.’

  ‘If we manage to recover three he’ll be over the moon.’

  The sun slid over the horizon like a jelly across a greased tray. The battlefield consisted of a series of hummocks, their tips just touched by light, surrounded by seas of shad
ow. ‘Not much snow left,’ said Nish.

  ‘It’s been windy in these parts.’ Klarm came up beside them and rested his forearms on the lower rail. He had a small bound volume in one hand.

  ‘Have you been here recently?’ Nish said carefully. Klarm did not talk about his spying missions.

  ‘Not in more than a month.’

  ‘But we wouldn’t expect to run into the enemy?’ They’d been over this before but Nish felt in need of reassurance.

  ‘Lyrinx could be anywhere,’ grunted Klarm, ‘though they haven’t reoccupied Snizort. The area is a wasteland, the tar’s still burning underground and the native people fled long ago. There’s been no sign of the scavengers here either.’

  The light was advancing swiftly now and Nish began to distinguish the bones of the wrecked machines. Most were clankers, but scattered among them, particularly on the western side of the battlefield, he made out the distinctive smooth curves of constructs.

  ‘Over there,’ Klarm called to Inouye. ‘Some ten constructs were abandoned close together, formed into a group.’

  The air-floater drifted westward. ‘I don’t see them,’ said the pilot. It was the first time she’d spoken in ages. Inouye went about her work in silent, tragic despair, and it wrenched Nish’s heart. Separation from her children and her man was eating her alive.

  ‘Just to the left of that little hill,’ said Klarm.

  Inouye took them over the hill, then circled around it.

  ‘You must be mistaken,’ said Irisis. ‘I can only see three.’

  ‘I kept careful records,’ said Klarm, consulting his book, ‘because the constructs weren’t badly damaged.’

  ‘Well, there’s only three now. Maybe Vithis came back and dragged them away. Could you go a little lower, Inouye?’

  The air-floater came down to within ten spans of the ground. ‘I can’t see any tracks,’ said Nish.

  ‘The surface snow has been blown away.’

  ‘Constructs are very heavy. If they’d been hauled off, you’d expect to see drag marks.’

  Inouye hovered over the site. ‘They have been taken,’ said Irisis. ‘Look, you can see depressions where they were lying.’