Orlind

by Charlotte E. English

  ‘Either way, not good.’

  ‘Nothing to be done about it, though. Nothing can pry information out of Limbane if he doesn’t want to talk.’

  ‘Too true. So we go ahead?’

  ‘I don’t have any other ideas. Do you?’

  Tren shook his head. ‘I wish we could wash our hands of the whole thing, but Limbane’s scaring me. If he does know what Krays is doing, he doesn’t seem to be working to put a stop to it.’

  ‘I wish he’d made at least a little effort to deceive us,’ Eva grumped. ‘It’s patronising.’

  ‘Unless he wants us to know we’re being deceived.’

  She thought about that. ‘Would that make it a triple or a quadruple con? I’m losing track.’

  Tren laughed. ‘At this point I believe we’re up to at least a twelve-layer deception.’

  ‘I’m getting tired of it,’ Eva muttered.

  Tren gave her a quick hug. ‘Me too. So let’s make an end of it. Onward to Lab Seventeen!’

  Iwa awaited them with obvious impatience.

  ‘Sorry,’ Eva said blandly. ‘Limbane had a couple more things to say.’

  Iwa didn’t answer that, leaving Eva to reflect without satisfaction on how facile a liar she was becoming. ‘I’ve prepared these for you,’ Iwa said, pointing to two tiny devices on the bench before her. ‘This one is yours, Eva, and this is for Tren. Don’t get them mixed up. What these will do is mimic the frequency of the implants Krays gives his people. He changes the codes pretty often, of course, but these should be up to date.’

  ‘Lovely,’ Eva said, peering at one of the gadgets. ‘So if we carry these, it’ll seem like we have the right implants with the right codes?’

  ‘Yes, though it isn’t a perfect camouflage. Every one of those implants has a serial number, the same way ours do, so the bearer can be identified. These use numbers in the same sequence as those Krays is using, so it’ll look authentic, and I’ve just built each of you a profile that will pass cursory inspection. But if anyone looks too closely, they’ll realise you are carrying serial numbers that haven’t been assigned yet. I advise you to complete your business quickly.’

  Eva nodded. ‘These will fool the alarms, will they?’

  ‘At least for a while, yes. Also if anybody decides to check your credentials, they’ll gain you a pass - for a while.’

  ‘What about my own implant?’

  ‘It will mask it. Temporarily.’

  That was good news. Krays knew they worked for Limbane, but presumably most of his people did not. If she and Tren were stopped, it would be easier to explain their presence if they didn’t have to first explain away the presence of a rival implant. ‘Temporarily,’ Eva repeated. ‘Understood. We have no intention of dallying.’

  ‘Good,’ Iwa said curtly. ‘I don’t have time to do surgery so you’ll have to carry these. Keep them well hidden. If anybody spots these on you, they may realise what they are.’

  ‘Do you have any advice for us?’ Tren asked.

  Iwa directed a cold smile at him. ‘Keep out of Krays’s way.’

  With that she disappeared.

  Eva picked up one of the tiny gadgets, handling it with extreme care. To her eye it resembled a silvery metal button, and that made her afraid of it. She could damage the invisible workings all too easily when she didn’t know what or where they were.

  ‘Hmm, where to keep it,’ Tren murmured, looking down at his clothes.

  ‘Somewhere it can’t fall out,’ Eva advised.

  ‘Inside coat pocket!’ he said with triumph, and duly buttoned it inside.

  ‘Good thinking.’ Eva did the same, shaking her coat a few times to make sure it wouldn’t fall out.

  ‘Well then,’ she said after a moment. ‘Ready to go?’

  ‘Any last words?’ Tren grinned.

  ‘Wait!’

  ‘Apt, but unproductive.’

  ‘No, I mean it. I want Rikbeek for this.’ She had left the gwaystrel in her rooms for the past few days, preferring the security of knowing he was safe to the dubious pleasure of his company. ‘If we’re going to spy, we need our miniature super-spy along with us.’

  ‘By all means, fetch the super-spy,’ Tren agreed. ‘But if he bites me, I’m throwing him out of a window.’

  ‘But your blood tastes good. He told me himself.’

  Tren glared at her. ‘I know I have good blood. That’s why I want to keep it.’

  ‘Fine, fine. He’ll just have to have twice as much of my blood.’

  ‘If you faint, I’ll carry you.’

  ‘My hero.’ She gave him a playful shove. ‘Fetching Rikbeek, then, and after that I suggest we just go.’

  ‘No reason to delay, unless it’s to set your affairs in order. Do you have a valid will?’

  ‘I have a will that confirms I have no one to leave my possessions to. Does that count?’

  ‘Sad, very sad.’

  ‘I know.’

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Four constructs. Four teams of Lokants, four sets of explosives.

  Four shape-shifters.

  Llandry, Pense, Ori and Avane stood in a huddle of Lokants, their group screened from the skies by a ragged canopy of crumbling glissenwol caps. Those skies were ominously quiet. A few hours ago the draykoni attacks had largely ceased. Llan privately hoped that they had worn themselves out for the present; after all, with the help of her father’s machines Waeverleyne had taken down many of their number, forcing the draykoni to expend massive energy in order to reclaim the corpses and resurrect their allies. She knew first-hand that this took a heavy toll on the draykoni. The resurrections had certainly slowed: before the retreat, perhaps one third of their numbers were down and the remaining two thirds were noticeably slowing. And so far, the defending force had managed to retain five of those corpses. These five would stay out of the fight for as long as Waeverleyne could keep hold of the remains.

  As encouraging as all of that sounded, this brief silence could only constitute a reprieve, not a victory. Sooner or later the enemy would be back, restored to full strength. Meanwhile, the draykon mechs were regenerating their own, solar-based energies and it wouldn’t be long before the fires would start up again.

  Limbane had decreed that the offense against the constructs must be launched now, while they were still without fire and without the support of the live draykoni.

  ‘I don’t like this seeming retreat,’ Limbane said, his voice pitched low. ‘No creature of any intellect would leave their mech allies unprotected while they’re low on power. Even if they’re recuperating, they’ll be somewhere nearby, watching. So be on your guard.

  ‘The first one should come down easily. We’re targeting this one first.’ Limbane pointed out one of the four constructs; the thing was currently circling over east Waeverleyne, amusing itself by ripping up bits of the remaining tree cover with its horrific metal claws. ‘Lure it out past the city limits if you can, then dump the explosives and get clear. We’ll detonate them as soon as we’re sure you’re out of range.’

  Llan and her three colleagues all murmured agreement.

  ‘The next attack needs to come straight afterwards. As soon as we blow up a construct, you can bet those draykoni will be on you. Get back here, grab the next round and get them up in the air. We want the second one down before the draykoni have had time to regroup. Speed is the key, yes?’

  Four heads nodded seriously.

  ‘The third will be dangerous. You’ll have to get it clear of the city limits, and dodge live draykoni. You’ll have the advantage in size and speed: being smaller will make you faster and more agile. But don’t get cocky and don’t take any stupid risks. The last two will be your biggest challenge and I don’t want anyone muffing it in a panic. Got it?’

  They nodded again. Llan wondered if the other three were as afraid as she felt. If they were, they didn’t show it.

  Well then, she wouldn’t either. She straightened her spine, looked Limbane in the eye and s
aid, ‘Yes, Lokantor.’

  ‘Good. Here’s the order we want to do this.’ He pointed to each of the other three constructs in turn. Llan committed the pattern to memory, hoping she’d be able to remember which was which when it came to it.

  She wished she’d had chance to see her father. He was urgently busy, using their brief reprieve to get as many of his machines back into working order as possible. Llan had taken the opportunity to leave Sigwide with him. The orting rode in his usual carry pouch, but the contraption was strung around her father’s waist. She missed Siggy’s bright little mind and his frivolous thoughts; he could always cheer her up when she was anxious, afraid or sad, and just now she was all three. But with Aysun he was as safe as Llandry could make him.

  She tried to ignore the thought that she might not see either of them again.

  ‘Right. Ready?’ Limbane barked.

  Terror squeezed Llandry so tight she couldn’t breathe. Struggling against the constriction in her throat, she managed to give her assent. Then everything started happening. She and the others shifted into the bird forms they’d chosen: kreeays, chosen for their size (just big enough to carry the explosives successfully) and their speed and agility. They had modified their appearances for the sake of clarity. Their normally white feathers were purple in Avane’s case, bright blue for Pensould, green for Ori and scarlet for Llandry herself. That would make it easier for them to identify each other, and for the Lokants on the ground to count them out of range.

  Ori collected his burden, using both feet to grip the long baton. Llan still wondered whether these had been designed for some prior event, or whether the shapes had been fashioned specifically to facilitate this undertaking. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was whether it worked.

  She had it on Limbane’s personal authority that the batons were volatile, in spite of their diminutive size.

  Ori took flight, and a moment later Avane, too, was up and away with her device. Pensould followed, and finally it was Llandry’s turn. The devices had been placed atop a half-destroyed glissenwol trunk in four groups, so their bearers wouldn’t have to return all the way to the ground to collect each round. Llandry flew up and swooped onto the trunk, talons open. She grabbed the baton a fraction too late, and almost dropped it. Horror suffused her at the thought, for if it hit the ground there was a chance that it could explode.

  Note to myself, she thought grimly. Don’t do that again.

  She had to adjust for the weight of the baton, but a few seconds saw her climbing into the skies, following the blue shape of Pensould a few feet ahead of her. The four of them flew out in a line, aiming for the construct Limbane had designated the first target.

  This part of the process had been carefully planned. They were to begin by getting its attention. Ori accomplished this by the simple expedient of flying directly into one of its enormous eyes, then darting away, heading out of Waeverleyne.

  It was a partially successful gambit. The construct saw him and altered its course, but Ori was gone too quickly; the mech didn’t give chase. He’d been too realistically bird-like, perhaps, and been discounted.

  By the time a third bird flew into its eye, though, the creature was either convinced of its evil intent or simply enraged. Did it have emotions? Impossible to tell, but the important point was that it followed Pensould, forcing him to duck and dive away from its snapping jaws. Llan pumped her wings harder, racing to catch up.

  Right, time for the drop! Ori yelled in her thoughts. A brief glance down confirmed that he was right: they had just passed the last of the city’s buildings. The construct’s bulk could drop safely here, without doing too much damage.

  She hoped.

  Ori and Avane charged for the creature’s back, intent on the joints between its wings and its body. Pensould aimed for the joint where the neck met the shoulders. Llan went for the head. On Ori’s signal, all four were to drop their burdens at once. That being done, the only thing remaining would be to get away, fast!

  Approaching the construct from behind, Llan passed Avane and Ori, the two already riding the creature’s wings. Pense dropped out of the air to land on the construct’s neck, where it couldn’t reach him. It continued to try, however, its head thrashing and its jaws snapping with horrific clanging sounds. Llan tried, and repeatedly failed, to get into place in her allocated position atop its head: it was simply moving too fast.

  I can’t get at its head!

  Two on the neck then, Pensould said in reply. Ought to take off the head.

  Lacking the time to think, Llandry accepted this plan and whirled around, heading back towards Pensould. Ori counted down; as he got to one, Llandry landed on the creature’s back and placed her explosive right next to Pensould’s.

  GO! Ori screamed.

  Llandry went. She had a few seconds to get herself out of danger, and how little time that seemed with four devices about to explode behind her! She rocketed away from the construct, putting five feet, ten feet, fifteen feet between herself and the beast...

  Four explosions sounded behind her. She hadn’t flown far enough to avoid all of the fallout: a wall of hot air blew into her from behind, propelling her another twenty feet through the air in a split second. She rolled with it, tucking her head, trying to use her wings to protect herself. She fell a long way before she got hold of herself and corrected her headlong flight, thankful that she hadn’t flown hard into a tree.

  Everyone all right? she called.

  Three voices answered: Avane’s high, rather frightened tones, Ori’s excited ones and Pensould’s terse assent. No injuries. What of the construct?

  Llan banked and turned, climbing back into the air. The Lokants with the detonators had been placed atop several of the more-or-less intact glissenwol caps, where they could clearly see the mechs; she passed one of them on her way up, and dipped her wings in a salute.

  Once she judged herself to be high enough, she slowed and turned in the air. Her keen kreeay eyesight showed her one mech; two; three...

  Is the fourth down?

  It’s down! Ori sounded like a much younger boy, brimming with excitement. I saw it go! Wings went first, then that double load almost took the neck and head right off! It’s on the ground.

  Ori’s extreme enthusiasm was exasperating, for no part of this was a game on any possible level. But her relief was so profound, she didn’t take him to task for it. The plan was working! One of the larger Lokant teams would already be on their way to the site of the crash, ready to ascertain whether it was still functional. And if it was, to render it otherwise.

  Meanwhile, they had three more to take down.

  Too early to celebrate, Pensould chided. Second target.

  They flew down in a group to collect the next round of devices. Llan wondered if Limbane had been right: were the draykoni watching, and were they now on their way to rejoin the fray? There wasn’t time to look; they were up and out again, soaring towards the next draykon mech on Limbane’s list.

  Faster this time, Pensould warned. Ori, count us in.

  This second operation went more smoothly. Llan gave up on reaching its head, choosing instead to follow Pensould in and drop her explosive when he did. On Ori’s count they were out again and well away before the devices detonated. Llandry took a moment to celebrate, cheering with the others as she tumbled headlong through the air in the wake of the explosions.

  An enormous tree trunk materialised out of the air directly in front of her. She frantically pumped her wings, still mostly beyond her own control, and missed it by a horrifyingly slim margin.

  Watch out for the trees, Ori said in her mind.

  Yeah... thanks. She ruffled her wings, shaken. That impact would probably have broken her neck.

  Draykoni on us! Pensould’s warning was loud and penetrating in her mind, breaking in on her thoughts. Thirty seconds to get the devices before they’re here.

  He was already on his way back to the collection point as he spoke. Llan whirled and fl
ew after him, trying to ignore the growing tiredness in her wings. Kreeays may be fast but this much strain was taking its toll.

  Three kreeays picked up devices and sped away. Llan grabbed hers, steadfastly refusing to look behind her. She had it! Up she went and over the trees, gripping the baton as if her life depended on it, trying not to think of draykoni hard on her tail.

  Only three so far, Pensould reported.

  Three’s enough, she replied.

  Agreed. This one has to be fast.

  Fast indeed, for the Lokants didn’t wait for all four birds to be clear before they began detonating the devices. Ori and Avane were the first to make their drops, letting the devices settle in the joints between wings and body. Both explosives blew up as Llan and Pensould approached and she watched, horribly fascinated, as the wings sagged and the mech began to drop.

  Now! yelled Pensould. He went for the neck, two draykoni flying hard behind him. In the wine-red hide of one, Llandry recognised Isand - the draykon she and Pensould had woken themselves, the one who had started this war in a bid for revenge. She had to fight the sudden desire to drop her device on Isand instead. This bitch had hurt her mother!

  Llan!

  Pensould had dropped his device and was spiralling away, swerving madly in his attempts to avoid the teeth of the draykoni on his tail. Llan hesitated, expecting the device to blow.

  It didn’t. They were waiting for her. She swooped down...

  ... and was blown suddenly off course by a staggering impact that jarred her bones and set her head buzzing madly. A claw-swipe from the third draykoni had hit her hard, and in the rush of pain she feared that something may be broken.

  But she could still fly. Adopting Pensould’s evasive technique, she forged on, whirling side-to-side and up and down, just barely keeping herself out of the draykon’s mouth.

  There! She reached the neck, the baton fell, and she barrelled away. The device blew, and a terrific draykon-shriek told her that the live beast had been caught in the explosion.