Maker's Curse

by Trudi Canavan

  “She questioned me and read from my mind that I had worked with Tyen once.” Zeke glanced at Tyen. “She had my partner bring out a large box, and when it was opened I recognised a machine Tyen had made. It was a machine in the shape of a human – a humanoid. She told me to study it and then make another. When I had done that, she asked if I could put a mind in it.” Zeke shook his head. “I didn’t think it possible, but she insisted I start working on the problem. I’ve been working on it ever since – I mean, until I was rescued.

  “At first I tried to make a mechanical mind. Though I had some success, it was many, many times larger than the humanoid’s skull. Then one night I dreamed that the people around me were turning into machines, their clothes hiding mechanical limbs. She liked that idea and ordered me to pursue it. Instead of trying to create a human mind to put in a machine, I was to replace a human’s limbs and organs until all that was left was their mind.”

  He shook his head. “If I tried not to think about it, they tortured people in front of me. If I did not do the work myself, my partner did it for me. Either way, many died. I lost count of how many. The more progress we made, the longer they lived, but, more often than not, that just extended their torment.” He shuddered. “If I could have hidden my thoughts I’d have pretended to have had greater success, as Kettin was entranced by the idea of becoming a machine and eager to transform herself, and then we might have been rid of her.”

  He looked at Qall. “We’d had some success in replacing limbs with machine versions, but not organs. I can only assume that she had chosen me to work on the task because I was the best of the inventors, but I know there are other laboratories, as other inventors’ partners spoke as if they were competing with at least three different groups.”

  He turned back to the audience. “All groups were working on weapons. Kettin believes that whatever sorcerers can do, machines will eventually be able to do as well. Reading minds. Travelling between worlds. Pattern-shifting. I saw no sign that anyone had come close to achieving these things, but I did catch glimpses of some very sophisticated machines. Some were being developed to attach to a person and feed them drugs, and cause them both pain and pleasure, as a way to control them. Other inventors were looking for faster ways to conquer a world, drain all the magic, extract materials and make more machines. Not long before I was rescued I heard they had developed a method that would enable a single sorcerer to fill an entire world with machines instantly rather than several transporting them in batches.”

  Zeke shook his head. “Every day Kettin’s inventors find new and faster ways to destroy. Every day the possibility that she could be defeated grows smaller. It may seem that she is focused on simply spreading outwards, conquering worlds as she encounters them, but from the kinds of problems I saw inventors working to solve, she doesn’t intend to keep doing that. Eventually she will target specific worlds. The sooner you deal with her, the easier it will be. And by easy I mean less impossible.”

  A hum of concern rose among the listeners, and many exchanged glances. The representatives of conquered and threatened worlds alike looked pointedly towards the generals and military strategists, who frowned but did not return the stares. Seeking minds, Rielle saw that some of the latter thought that Kettin was a threat that would remain far away for some time, so they had plenty of time to plan, study the enemy and gather support. But Zeke had sowed a seed of doubt.

  Zeke turned back to Qall and nodded. “I think that is all.”

  Qall inclined his head. “Thank you, Zeke. Does anybody have questions for Zeke?”

  A brief pause followed, in which glances were exchanged in order to check if someone more important was about to speak. One ambassador, determined to make sure his people had a voice in this struggle, blurted out a question.

  “She hates sorcerers, but she kills everyone in a world. Why?”

  A shiver went through Zeke as he remembered the guards discussing this. “She believes that humans are just sophisticated animals. Most are savage, wild creatures that prey on each other. Some have the potential to be domesticated. By culling to the best people, she will tame the human race, and make it better.”

  A shocked silence followed. “This is worse than we feared,” one of the generals said.

  “The worlds have faced nothing like it,” another replied. “Conquest for the sake of conquest seems strangely benign in comparison.”

  “You say she resents sorcerers their power,” another ambassador said, “but she is one. How does she reason around that?”

  Zeke grimaced. “My partner explained that she grew up in a near-dead world among people abused by those in power, and when her world was restored, the imbalance only became worse. When she found herself strong in magic, she despised herself for being more like her oppressors than her own people. She decided to use magic – and machines – to help others, placing those who are smarter but weak into the positions of authority they deserved.” He swallowed. “Not just in her world, but all worlds.”

  “How long do you think it will take before she is able to start targeting specific worlds?”

  “I can’t guess.” Zeke shook his head. “It could be days or a cycle. If she was waiting for me to make her into a machine, then my rescue may delay her. Or she may decide there’s no reason to wait any longer.”

  “Do you know what vulnerabilities the inventors in your laboratory were working on?” Hapre asked.

  Zeke nodded. “Some. Several were working on the problem of control. At the moment, machines have a trigger that, once turned on, can’t be turned off. If commands or signals control them, a stronger sorcerer could read of them from the operator’s mind and turn the machines off. Some more complicated machines are controlled with a device that uses sounds too high for a human to hear and self-destructs if it is removed from the operator, but there’s still the risk the operator will be coerced into cooperating with an enemy.”

  “So the operators could easily become the victims of their own machines?” a general asked.

  “I heard rumours that some were, in the beginning. Kettin lost a good inventor. She started sending out the less clever ones to attack worlds, along with sorcerers who joined her that aren’t inventors. I know someone came up with a way of imprinting the operator’s identity onto the machines so they ignore them. I don’t know what it is, and I believe the operators don’t know how it works either, so it can’t be read from their minds.”

  “Do you know how many worlds Kettin has conquered so far?” another general asked.

  Zeke shook his head. “Nobody spoke of that,” he explained. “I only know what I overheard or the partners or guards told us.”

  “So you don’t know of any weaknesses in her strategy for conquering worlds?”

  “No.” Zeke’s shoulders lifted. “I wish I could be of more help.”

  “You have been already,” Qall assured him. He looked at the general. “We have reports from worlds already conquered to illustrate Kettin’s methods. Are there any more questions for Zeke?”

  Several more questions came, tackling more specific details. Then a quiet fell over the room. Qall looked around and nodded.

  “Zeke’s information is a much-needed breakthrough after a half-cycle of frustrated attempts to learn more about Kettin and her followers. We have lost hundreds of scouts, and those few that have returned have given us limited knowledge. Though we have plenty of reports from refugees of conquered worlds, most escaped their world before or just after the conquest began and so have limited insight into how the machine army operates after the initial attack.

  “During their mission, Dahli, Rielle and Tyen found that some displaced people have managed to get back to their worlds to start rebuilding their lives and homes. Kettin must know of this, so she is allowing it – for now. This sign that hosting refugees could be temporary may convince reluctant worlds that their kindness will not cost them more than they can give.

  “As for Kettin… I am in agreement with Zek
e and many of you here. We can’t sit back and wait. We must gather an army and attack as soon as possible.” He turned to Tyen. “At the same time, we must continue seeking a way to disable war machines. Tyen will be working on that problem. Zeke and Dahli will join him.”

  Looking at Tyen, Rielle saw him stiffen and look at Qall, his eyes narrowing and his mouth opening.

  “We will take a break now to eat and discuss this,” Qall finished. “If you have any ideas or additional information, please speak to me.”

  As he rose, the rest of the room followed suit. Tyen closed his mouth, approached Qall and grabbed his arm.

  “We need to talk,” he said. “Privately.”

  Qall smiled faintly. “I thought we might. Come into the next room.”

  Stepping around Dahli, Rielle followed them to a door opposite the main entrance of the room. As Qall opened it he looked back at Tyen, and his eyes flickered to Rielle.

  “You too?” he asked, then beckoned. “Come on then.”

  She followed Tyen through. The door had barely closed when he spoke.

  “I will not allow Dahli into my home world!”

  Qall’s eyebrows rose. “Do you not think it cruel to separate them when they’ve only just been united?”

  “That’s not reason enough to risk exposing my world and spoiling our chances of finding a way to combat the war machines!”

  “You exaggerate,” Qall said calmly. “Dahli and Zeke spent five cycles searching for a way to stop war machines. Why would they do anything to foil that search now? And you know your world can’t remain hidden for ever, Tyen. Yes, you would prefer to hide it until it is stronger, but I doubt it will be ready before Kettin reaches it. Your world’s best chance now lies in finding a way to stop the war machines, and for that you need Zeke to be there and not distracted by worry about his lover.”

  Tyen scowled. “I don’t need to be distracted by worrying about what Dahli is up to at the same time as leading the Academy, keeping the Emperor on side and finding a way to defeat the machines.”

  “Nobody needs any of this, Tyen,” Qall said. “Did you think—”

  He stopped at the sound of the door opening and closing. They all turned to find Zeke standing before it, staring at them defiantly. The young inventor’s gaze moved from Rielle to Qall and settled on Tyen.

  “I don’t have to read your mind to know what this is about,” he said. “You don’t want Dahli in your world. I understand why. He has done terrible things. But you have to take him, Tyen. Not just because I won’t be parted from him, but because he is not the man you believe him to be. Do you really think I would still be with him if he was?”

  Tyen’s steely gaze softened a little. “You’re in love, Zeke. You only see—”

  “That’s rubbish, Tyen, and you know it,” Zeke snapped. “He has told me some of what Valhan had him do. Things you can’t even imagine. Things that would make anyone fall out of love with a person. I would have, but for knowing how much the memory of it torments him. Would it, if he was the person you think he is? He does not blame it all on the Raen, or use his love for the man as an excuse. He did it to survive. He could have chosen to die rather than do things he knew to be wrong, but he didn’t. The only way he has been able to live with himself is by muting his memories – and he only did that because I made him do it.” Zeke walked forward to stand in front of Tyen, his gaze direct and unwavering. “He will not harm your world. Not just because I don’t want him to. He knows he wouldn’t survive it.”

  Tyen stared back, searching and uncertain. Then he blinked and turned to look at Rielle. “What do you think?”

  She hesitated, surprised that he was asking her. Looking at Zeke, she measured the certainty in his mind.

  “Dahli has changed,” she acknowledged. “Zeke has changed him.”

  “No.” Zeke turned to her. “I have only helped him change back to who he really is: the man he was before Valhan’s influence warped and distorted him. He has done all of the work, facing the worst of his memories, sacrificing strengths for vulnerabilities, resisting the instincts learned over hundreds of years.”

  She regarded him solemnly. “Even so, you don’t know how much of this… reversion is due to you and how much due to him facing his conscience.” She looked at Qall. “If Tyen doesn’t want Dahli there, I support him. Tyen apologised for the harm he did, but Dahli has not.”

  Zeke opened his mouth to speak but stopped as the door opened again. Before they could turn to see who it was, a familiar voice revealed his identity.

  “Stop it, Zeke,” Dahli said. He closed the door, then looked at Tyen. “It’s your world. If you don’t want me there, that is your choice. If an apology is required, then I offer this: I am deeply sorry for the harm I’ve done to you, your friends and loved ones.”

  Tyen’s gaze shifted to Dahli and his eyes narrowed. For a long moment the pair stared at each other. Tyen’s lips pressed together, then relaxed. “You may accompany Zeke, but you must promise on his life that you will not harm my world or anyone in it, or reveal its location. Will you accept that condition?”

  Dahli inclined his head. “I do.”

  “Don’t make me regret this,” Tyen warned. “If you do I will put aside my feelings about violence and hunt you down.”

  “I understand.”

  Frowning deeply, Tyen turned to Qall. “And I don’t think our friendship would survive it,” he added.

  Qall nodded. “I would regret that for all my remaining years, Tyen. Please, trust me that I believe, having considered all that I know, that this decision is best. I only wish it was the most difficult one we are going to have to make in the days ahead.” He sighed and turned towards the door. “Now, our allies have begun to wonder where I am, and if I intend to answer all their questions as I promised, not just yours, I had best talk to them. Let’s return to the meeting room.”

  PART SIX

  TYEN

  CHAPTER 16

  As the walls of the Grand Hall resolved around Tyen and his companions, they darkened to a shadowed gloom. The sound of feet landing on the floor, along with the heavy clunk of the crate Tyen had brought with him, signalled their arrival. He sought minds and found those of the two watchers he had employed to keep the hall clear of obstacles.

  The room brightened as the pair realised someone had arrived. They immediately tensed as they saw the people surrounding Tyen, all with their heads covered with thick black sacks.

  Reaching over to Zeke and Dahli, Tyen removed the coverings. The pair blinked and looked around.

  “We’re here?” Zeke asked.

  “Yes,” Tyen replied. “Welcome to the Academy.” He raised his voice. “You may all take off your hoods.”

  The three other inventors divested themselves of the sacks and took in their surroundings. Tyen turned and beckoned to the watchers. They approached warily, eyeing these otherworld strangers with curiosity and a little fear. From their minds Tyen learned that it was early morning.

  “I ordered that the hall be brightly lit at all times,” Tyen reminded the young men, keeping his tone firm but not angry. “Why was it not?”

  The pair winced. “Ah… I apologise, Director,” one said. “We were told to avoid wasting magic.”

  Tyen checked the magic in the area. “There’s still plenty here,” he observed. “Safety is of greater importance. What if I had not been able to see someone walking across the hall as we arrived? They may have melded with this crate, or worse – with these visitors?”

  The young man blanched. “It won’t happen again, Director.”

  Tyen nodded and smiled. “I’m sure it won’t. Now, could one of you please inform Halyn Wardlamp that I have arrived, then go on to find Tarren and bring him here.”

  “Halyn. Tarren.” The watcher hurried away. Tyen continued reading the other watcher’s mind. They had been worried that Tyen would be angry about the order to avoid wasting magic, as it had come from one of the professors who had left the Academy in
protest. The man had returned and started rousing opposition to Tyen’s leadership in the institution.

  Taking advantage of my absence. How many are taking him seriously? Tyen wondered. Have any of the others who left in protest returned? Since they had left voluntarily, no rule prevented them from taking a place in the school, though they could not be reinstated to their former positions without his permission.

  He would have the answers to his questions soon enough. Ushering Dahli and the inventors over to the crate, he asked one of them to help him open it. Soon they had exposed a carefully and compactly stacked pile of broken and depleted machines collected from conquered worlds. Stepping back to regard them, it struck him that they looked very different to anything his world had ever produced. Machine knowledge had evolved and expanded rapidly in the last ten cycles. The Academy could be too far behind now to find a solution to the machine threat. Was there any real benefit to having it work on the problem?

  Perhaps the only reason to do so was because his world was, so far, a safe and hidden place.

  The inventors had separated the machines into five neat piles when hurried footsteps drew Tyen’s attention away. To his dismay, the very man who had ordered the watcher keep the Grand Hall dim was striding towards him. Professor Bargeman was followed by two teachers. One was reassuring himself that all three of them were strong sorcerers and surely would be equal to Tyen’s strength. Tyen would have been more amused by that if it wasn’t clear they had done enough in his absence that they expected him to grow angry enough to be a threat.

  “Tyen Ironsmelter,” Bargeman bellowed, his voice echoing in the hall. “I see you’ve deigned to return to us.”