by Ian Irvine
‘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 shadow. ‘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.’
‘They must have flown –’ Nish began furiously. ‘Oh no!’ He clutched at her arm as a chill ran down his spine. ‘They’ve flown. Vithis converted them to thapters and flew them away.’
‘Or hovered them.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Klarm. ‘The only thapter my spies have sighted near the Hornrace was Malien’s.’
‘What if Malien’s people have been here?’ said Irisis slowly. ‘They already know how to build thapters, so it’d be no trouble to fix these ones. In fact, that’s probably what’s happened.’
‘How many have gone?’ Nish choked. ‘Please, let it only be these seven.’
They rotored back and forth across the battlefield. ‘There’s another depression,’ said Klarm, pointing. ‘It contained four constructs a month ago.’
‘And two more have gone from the south of it,’ Irisis called.
As they went back and forth, and the count rose, Nish fell deeper into depression. ‘How many is it now?’ he asked drearily as they completed the last run.
‘Thirty-one,’ said Irisis.
Despair. ‘I’ll bet they’ve taken every construct that could possibly be repaired.’
They spent all day trudging through the remnants of rust-coloured snow, checking the constructs one by one. There was not a single usable machine among them. The controllers had been broken with a hammer.
Nish studied the innards of the last machine, grim-faced. ‘There’s no chance that our pilots could fly it with one of your controllers?’
Irisis shook her head. ‘Ours are just designed to fit into theirs. If we’d had to make new controllers from scratch, we’d still be working on the first one.’
‘What am I going to say to Yggur and Flydd?’
Night fell. Nish set up camp and sent an air-floater home with the bad news. He was too depressed to eat and the trainee pilots, highly strung as were all operators, had taken it hard. Many were in tears, including one of the best, pretty little Kattiloe with the dozens of blonde plaits. Sturdy, dark-eyed Chissmoul, too shy to speak about her distress, had simply walked off into the night. The artificers and their prentices were of a more phlegmatic disposition. Glad of the opportunity to employ their talents on real machines, they were pulling one of the constructs apart in the firelight.
Nish felt like screaming at them, but resisted. Let them have their moment. Let them hone their useless skills.
‘We might as well go home.’ Funny how he could think of forbidding Fiz Gorgo as home.
‘The air-floater pilots need their rest,’ said Irisis. ‘They flew all night, Nish.’
‘In the morning then. At first light.’
Irisis prodded the fire. ‘I’ve been thinking. This might not be an absolute disaster yet.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Remember the first time we came here, when we ran into the scavengers? I took away a complete controller and used it to design all my flight assemblies. I’m sure I brought the controller with me, so at least we can bring one thapter home. Kimli can fly it.’
‘One lousy thapter,’ said Nish in melancholy tones.
‘Oh, come on. It’s twice what we have now.’
After his glorious daydreams about bringing back fleets of fliers, it took an effort for Nish to see that even one thapter was infinitely better than none. None meant that the past months had been wasted. With none, the war could not be won. With one, added to the one they already had, it was still possible to hope.
They worked all night fitting the controller into the least damaged of the machines close by. It took a team of artificers and artisans, for whoever had smashed the controller had done other damage and they had to take parts from a second construct to fix it. The work was not yet completed when the sun came up. As it lifted above the horizon they heard an approaching, unmistakable whine.
‘It’s a thapter!’ Nish cried. ‘The Aachim have come back. Are you nearly finished?’
‘Not nearly enough,’ came Irisis’s muffled voice from inside.
‘Get your weapons!’ Nish raced for the air-floater, where he’d left his gear. A short sword banged against his hip but he’d be at a disadvantage against a tall Aachim. He reached over the side for his crossbow and pouch of bolts.
The thapter shot out of the north, flying low, banked and circled around them. The soldiers raised their crossbows. ‘Do we shoot?’ called their sergeant.
‘No!’ hissed Klarm. ‘Find out if they’re hostile, first.’
‘Not until I say so,’ Nish yelled.
The thapter banked again. ‘Don’t shoot!’ roared Irisis from on top of her construct. ‘That’s Tiaan.’
Nish shaded his eyes and squinted. ‘How can you tell?’
‘It’s all scratched and battered about the base.’ Irisis waved furiously, pointing to the ground.
The thapter jagged sideways, dropped sharply and came sweeping in to settle on the ground just a few spans away, the blast from underneath whirling dust and crunchy fragments of snow up in their faces.
‘How can Tiaan fly, here? We’ve got the only power storage devices.’
‘With the amplimet she can draw on a distant field,’ Irisis reminded him.
Of course. That’s how she had got them out of the burning underground labyrinth. ‘What are you doing here?’ Nish called.
Tiaan climbed out, f
ollowed by Merryl, a hobbling Flangers and another soldier. ‘We had to do a little job nearby,’ said Tiaan. ‘So we thought we’d see how you were going.’
‘Terribly,’ said Nish, rubbing red eyes. He explained.
‘Have you had breakfast?’ Tiaan said abruptly.
‘We haven’t had time,’ he snapped.
‘Neither have I, but I’d appreciate something hot if you can manage it.’
She turned away to the campfire, where a large pot of chard was simmering. Pilot Kattiloe, who had been eyeing Tiaan’s machine enviously since its arrival, offered her a mug of the red brew. Tiaan wrapped her hands around it and stood with her back to the fire, looking down at the dirt. Taking what looked to be half a dried quince from her pocket, she nibbled at one edge. Pilot Chissmoul appeared silently from behind a mound. She kept apart from everyone, but pressed her cheek against the side of the thapter and closed her eyes. Flangers limped over and stood leaning against the thapter. He said something to her. Chissmoul didn’t answer, but she didn’t go away either.
‘Let’s get something to eat,’ said Irisis. ‘I’m sure we’ll feel better for it.’
Nish suppressed his irritation and shortly, warming his hands on a bowl of stew, did feel as though he could cope with the world after all.
‘There’s no possibility of repairing any of the smashed controllers, I suppose?’ Tiaan said.
‘Not with what we have here.’
‘What about assembling new ones from the undamaged parts?’
‘The Aachim did a pretty thorough job of breaking them …’ Irisis said; a spot of colour appeared high on each cheek. She seemed to be going through some internal struggle. ‘But maybe we could check them again, if you’ve got the time. Together.’ It came out in a rush.
Tiaan seemed to be having trouble breathing. ‘We could.’ She put out her hand.
Irisis clasped it, then looked up at the sky. ‘Shall we get started?’
A crushed skull protruded from the frozen mud where the construct had lain. The size and shape told them that it was Aachim – one of the few bodies not recovered and buried before Vithis left Snizort. The eye-sockets stared mournfully at them.
‘I don’t like this place,’ Irisis said.
Tiaan shivered. ‘Neither do I.’
Though Tiaan and Nish were friends now, Tiaan still felt uncomfortable with Irisis. They had disliked each other since they’d been small children and it would take a lot to come to terms with their history.
‘None of these controllers can be repaired,’ said Irisis that afternoon, as they finished surveying the last of the constructs in the third area. The short day was nearly over, the sun declining swiftly.
‘Where to next?’ Tiaan looked around.
‘The last area is a good league further west.’
‘We’d better take the thapter.’
Irisis had been making a map as she went along and marking the location of each construct so she wouldn’t miss any. ‘That last one was 429.’
‘How many more are there?’ said Tiaan.
‘Thirty-six. It’ll be after dark by the time we finish.’
They whined slowly along, hovering, not flying. Ahead, in a depression, three or four clankers lay in a tangled mess. They’d hit so hard that they were welded together by the impact.
‘I wonder how that happened?’ said Tiaan.
‘When the node exploded,’ said Irisis, ‘it sent out wild surges of power that tore the legs off a good many clankers. They were the lucky ones; the ones that weren’t so well built. The ones that didn’t break were uncontrollable, and a lot of constructs were wrecked the same way. We landed in the middle of the battlefield just after it happened, Flydd and I. And Ullii. It was horrible. You haven’t known real fear until you’ve stood in the middle of a battlefield with uncontrollable clankers and constructs rampaging at you.’
‘I’ve known fear,’ said Tiaan with an involuntary look over her shoulder.
She curved around to get a better look. ‘No one could have survived that impact. Hey! What’s that underneath? It looks like –’
‘A construct.’
Tiaan set the machine down and they scrambled out. From this angle, though no other, one curved flank was visible beneath the mess. ‘It is a construct, badly damaged. I wonder if I can squeeze through that gap?’
‘Might be better to drag the clankers off first,’ said Irisis.
‘That could do more damage. I’ll risk it.’
Tiaan squeezed in then stuck her head out. ‘Could you grab a lantern from the thapter, please?’
Irisis came back with it and pushed in after the smaller woman. ‘If the Aachim have missed something, I want to see it too.’
The top of the construct was badly damaged but the hatch had been sheared right off, leaving an opening framed by jagged metal. Tiaan wriggled inside. Bones were visible down below, though there was no smell. Scavenging beasts had done their job. Irisis pushed in beside her.
‘The controller’s still here. What do you think?’ said Tiaan.
‘It looks intact.’ Irisis couldn’t keep the elation out of her voice.
‘Let’s get it out.’
By the time they’d finished it was dark. Outside, Tiaan spread the mechanism on her coat while they inspected it with the lantern. ‘I think it’s good,’ said Tiaan.
‘So do I.’ Irisis threw her arms about the smaller woman, and after the briefest hesitation Tiaan hugged her back. She felt as though she might have made another friend.
Tiaan set her thapter down beside the other. ‘How’s your thapter going?’ Irisis called to Nish. He looked worn out.
‘We’ve put the controller in, and it works, though not very well. I’m worried we won’t get it home. Our pilots aren’t experienced enough to be flying good thapters, much less faulty ones. They won’t know what to do if something goes wrong. Still, things are looking better than they were this morning. How did you get on?’
‘Pretty well, considering. Look at this.’ Irisis took the controller out of her bag. ‘Isn’t it the most beautiful sight you ever saw?’
It was worth all the labour for the look on Nish’s face.
After dinner they put it into another construct, slipped in the flight assembly tailored to Kattiloe, and one of Yggur’s power-storing devices, and the thapter worked straight away. Kattiloe danced a little jig on top of the machine. Chissmoul whirled and ran into the darkness again but this time Flangers followed.
Tiaan and Irisis continued their survey at first light, and among the last of the constructs found two controllers that were not as badly damaged, as if the wrecking work had been abandoned in haste.
‘The crystal in this controller looks all right,’ said Tiaan. ‘It’s chipped, but should still work. Do you think, if we put it in the second controller, it might just be good enough?’
It was, and Chissmoul wept for joy.
‘Three!’ said Nish, who had perked up considerably overnight. ‘Plus your thapter, Tiaan. If only it were five.’
‘You’re getting ideas above your station,’ said Irisis, grinning like a loon. ‘Shall we go home?’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Tiaan. ‘I think I know where we might find another controller. Or even two.’
‘We’ve been through them all now,’ said Irisis. ‘Twice.’
‘As I escaped from Vithis there were several, er, accidents involving constructs.’
‘Accidents?’ said Irisis.
‘I’d prefer not to talk about it,’ Tiaan went on. ‘People died because of what I did. The constructs were wrecked but it’s possible the controllers were left behind. Do you want to come, Nish? It’ll take a fair while.’
‘Let’s get these ones organised first.’
Yggur’s devices were inserted in the other two machines and they were hovered north to the nearest field. Nish then took the devices back, just for luck. He left the three lucky pilots, Kattiloe, Chissmoul and Kimli, practising hovering and low flying
under Klarm’s watchful eye, gave orders for everyone to be ready to depart as soon as they returned, and climbed into the thapter after Irisis.
‘Can either of you swim?’ Tiaan said.
‘Not very well,’ said Nish.
‘Like an eel,’ said Irisis. ‘We used to go to the seaside in summer, when I was little.’
‘I’m not much good,’ said Tiaan. She put her head out the hatch. ‘Hoy. Are any of you good swimmers?’
‘I am,’ said Flangers.
‘Do you think your leg’s up to it?’ said Irisis.
‘It works better in the water than on land.’
‘Come on then.’
He limped across and climbed in. Tiaan went south, following the path she’d taken when towing the constructs to the node. At the place where she’d crippled Minis during the accident with the towing cable, Tiaan began to circle.
‘A few constructs were damaged here, though not badly. They may have taken them away.’
‘Looks like it,’ said Irisis, scanning the area with the spyglass.
They found nothing. Nish looked crestfallen.
‘Never mind,’ said Tiaan. ‘I didn’t really expect to find anything here.’
She continued south into Gnulp Forest, on the winding route she’d taken last summer. It wasn’t hard to remember. At the top of a steep hill she stopped and closed her eyes, imagining every detail of that desperate flight, and remembering her state of mind – thinking that she’d killed Minis and blaming herself for it.
‘I was here,’ she said. ‘They came at me up the hill, dozens of constructs led by Vithis. I’ll never know how I escaped.’
‘Nor I,’ said Nish, ‘had I not seen you in action.’
The undergrowth was still battered down in a line along the path of her flight, though autumn growth had begun to cover it up. ‘That’s where I hit a tree.’ She was pointing to a gouge out of the bark, a couple of spans in height. ‘And there’s where Vithis crashed. I was hoping his machine might have been abandoned, but they’ve taken it. On to the next.’
Nish said nothing but his shoulders were beginning to sag again.
Tiaan flew west to the Sea of Thurkad and turned left, following the shoreline south. Some half an hour later she slowed.
