Tetrarch (Well of Echoes) (14 page)

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Authors: Ian Irvine

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BOOK: Tetrarch (Well of Echoes)
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In the afternoon she was so tired that she had to take a nap. She dozed for an hour and roused to find her cheeks damp with tears of longing. She had dreamed that the construct was hers.

By that evening she had built a golden box and assembled her rotor. Tiaan put the boxed amplimet into the tube and closed the cap. Now she saw a field, though it was not the one she normally used. This was different, flatter, weaker; and probably just as well.

The hum resumed. It was lower now, more like the sound the constructs had made when she first encountered them. There was no thumping. Tiaan experimented with the buttons, which did no more than change the images on the green glass. She played with the finger-shaped levers. One lit up the area all around the construct, another changed the sound of the mechanism below from a hum to a whine, a third opened the turret behind her with a
whirr-click
.

A fourth shook the machine, which slowly rose in the air until it stood hip height above the floor. At last! Tiaan’s heart crashed painfully about her ribcage. Now, if she could just get it to move.

She wiggled the studded knob on the trumpet-shaped lever and was hurled sideways as the machine spun like a top. Her arm grew so heavy that she could barely hold it up. Forcing with all her strength, she managed to push the knob the other way but as the rotation slowed she went off-balance, forcing the trumpet further over.

The construct spiralled sideways across the floor, directly towards one of the main roof pillars. She jerked the knob. The machine spun the other way. Tiaan let out a screech. Her brain seemed to be spinning inside her skull. Each new movement sent the machine a different way. As it whirled toward another pillar, Tiaan saw Malien with her hands cupped around her mouth. What was she trying to say?

Tiaan could not hear a thing. The machine was out of control, spinning so fast that everything became a blur. She felt herself losing consciousness.

Golden sparkles burst in her eyes and the whine stopped. Malien must have cut off her view of the field. The machine came to rest just a handspan from the pillar. Tiaan climbed out, reeled about drunkenly and collapsed on the floor.

‘That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time,’ Malien chuckled.

‘I’m glad you think so,’ Tiaan choked. ‘I could have wrecked it in the first minute.’ As she sat up, the world tilted, so Tiaan lay down again. ‘I don’t feel very well.’

‘It’ll pass. Tiaan, a construct is not a clanker. Strength with delicacy is the hallmark of our work, whether it be a bridge spanning the mightiest of abysses, or a dressmaker’s needle. The gentlest movements are all it takes to control a construct.’

‘I’m not sure I want to control one,’ said Tiaan, feeling as though she was being lectured.

‘I know you do,’ said Malien. She placed one hand on the flank of the machine. ‘There’s something strange about it.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Except for the fitting out and the turret at the back, it’s just like the one Rulke made two hundred years ago.’

‘I suppose the Aachim copied his design.’

‘We are artists first, engineers or craft workers second. We never make the same object in the same way twice, yet these three constructs are almost identical. From what you say, the others were too.’

Tiaan recalled the images to mind. ‘They were all sizes, but the shape was always the same. So what?’

‘It suggests that they didn’t dare make changes, because they had copied what they did not understand. Not the way Rulke did.’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘Rulke’s construct didn’t just hover, it flew through the air. I saw it with my own eyes.’

The freedom of the skies! How she wanted it. Tiaan bit down on those feelings. ‘Maybe so, but all the cleverness of the Aachim has failed to uncover that secret.’

‘Perhaps they were looking in the wrong place.’

‘What are you up to, Malien? Do you hope I will solve it for you?’

Malien laughed, though it had an odd ring to it. ‘My adventuring days are well behind me.’

They returned to the machine. ‘What I don’t understand,’ Malien continued, ‘is
how
they could have rebuilt it. I saw Yggur’s blast pass across the void and turn Rulke’s construct into a glowing cinder. We all did, who were there that fateful day. How could they recover its design after such ruin?’

She answered her own question. ‘Metalmancy. They used mancery to recover the form and purpose of every part of it. That must have been a labour indeed, though they had two hundred years to do it, and the resources of a world. But even metalmancy could not have recovered the most fragile parts.

‘They never saw it used,’ Malien mused. ‘Not the way I did. Rulke’s machine was as hot as a furnace beneath, after it had flown.’

‘The Aachim constructs weren’t hot,’ said Tiaan. ‘They passed over snow and ice without melting it.’


Did they now!
Vithis can’t have discovered the secret of flight at all.’ Malien turned away. ‘I’m going back to check on the Well.’

Tiaan, consumed by the thought of flight, the ultimate secret, hardly noticed her going.

She spent all the following morning practising with the construct, bringing hand and eye into coordination. It was more difficult than it seemed, especially under the pressure of time, though after a couple of hours she could manoeuvre it without too much risk.

She went back over everything the Aachim had taught her of geomancy. The more she compared that to what Nunar’s book had taught her, the clearer it was that someone was wrong. The construct did not seem designed to detect, much less draw upon, the strong forces. It used a weak field she had never bothered with.

A few hours later, Malien came down the stairs, exhausted. Tiaan told her what she had learned. ‘Maybe Nunar was wrong, and the strong forces do not exist.’

Malien sat on a carved bench and closed her eyes.

After several minutes, Tiaan said, ‘Malien?’

‘What? Oh, give me a look at the book.’

Tiaan showed her the passages in
The Mancer’s Art
.

Malien looked thoughtful. ‘I think I know how to test your theory. Wait here.’

She returned with two sheets of a glassy mineral somewhat like mica, though brittle. Laying one sheet over the other, she held them up to the light and rotated the top sheet. At one point it went black. ‘Make yourself a set of goggles from these. Put the goggles on, then use the amplimet to envision the field.’

Tiaan did so, and as soon as she put them on, the field streamed all around her.

‘Rotate the upper lenses until they go black,’ said Malien. ‘Now what do you see?’

‘Nothing. The field has completely disappeared.’

‘Nothing at all?’

‘No.’

‘Concentrate, as though you’re searching for a distant field.’

‘Still nothing.’

‘You’re too tense. Relax. Just let it flow.’ Malien’s hands went around her head, over the goggles.

Tiaan tried to relax. One of the lenses moved, allowing in a multi-coloured loop of the field. She moved it back to the dark position and saw a white-hot cross made of three planes intersecting at right angles. She cried out, the lenses slipped and the cross vanished. And then the truth came to her.

‘I saw it!’ she cried. ‘The strong forces do exist.’ Tiaan began to laugh.

‘What is it?’ Malien said, anxiously.

Tiaan took particular pleasure in telling her. ‘Vithis
can’t
be using the strong forces. The Aachim don’t know how.’

‘I don’t understand. Come, sit down. Tell me what the matter is.’

‘The Aachim always act so superior. To their mind they
are
superior, and make sure everyone knows it. Yes, you too, Malien. But they’re not even using the node field, just little local fields.’

‘Stress-fields,’ Malien said crossly. ‘They’re strong on Aachan but weak here.’

‘They don’t know as much as we do,’ Tiaan chortled.

‘Beware pride!’ snapped Malien, nettled.

‘Or
false
pride,’ Tiaan retorted. ‘The Aachim could never have made the construct fly. Flight requires power that only the strong forces can provide, as well as the ability to see them.’

‘Once the secret is out, they will soon learn. So, are you saying you can make the construct fly?’

‘I’m prepared to try.’

‘Try very hard.’

‘Is something the matter?’

‘The amplimet is still communicating with the Well, in spite of all my efforts. The Well is drawing power from somewhere and rapidly unfreezing. I can’t allow that to happen.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘Either the amplimet leaves here, or I’ll have to destroy it, whatever the consequences.’

T
EN


N
o!’ cried Tiaan. ‘You can’t.’ ‘Do you think I want to?’ said Malien. ‘No one knows better than I do, how precious it is. I know what destroying it would do to you, too. But should the Well unfreeze and break the bonds that hold it here, the consequences would be catastrophic.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Possibly, no more Tirthrax – city
or
mountain.’

‘How long do I have?’

Malien hesitated. ‘I’ve sent a skeet to Stassor, but no Aachim could get back here in less than two months. The construct would be no quicker – the country is too rugged for a hovering craft. But with flight, it could be there in a week. I sense that we’re close to uncovering the last secret of the construct. Dare I risk it? Come upstairs. I’m going to my eyrie. I need to think.’

Tiaan followed. Malien walked out the opening and stood staring down at the glacier. Tiaan watched, hoping and praying she would come up with something. Destroying the amplimet would surely drive her insane. To miss the chance of flight would be almost as bad.

Malien came running back, her cloak flapping behind her. Tiaan held her breath.

‘You have until tomorrow,’ said Malien. ‘I believe I can hold the Well that long. If you haven’t found the answer by then, we must come to a decision: to take the amplimet away, or destroy it. And I dread what will happen if it leaves here – whose hands it will fall into. The choice almost makes itself.’

‘Please,’ said Tiaan. ‘I’ll take it. To destroy it would be to destroy myself. Though I don’t know where to go.’

‘In that case, I may have to come with you. Get to work and I’ll do the same, and tomorrow I’ll decide what is for the best.’

Tiaan studied the strong forces through her goggles. She had to know them perfectly before she could tailor the controller to them, and even then they would be deadly.

The hours raced by. She felt that she was making no progress at all. Malien came and went a number of times during the day, looking ever more careworn. Time was running out.

‘No luck?’ she asked that night.

‘No.’ Tiaan was exhausted too, but that was due to her own failure. ‘How about you?’

‘It’s holding, for the moment. Let me have a look down below.’ Malien went down into the construct. A good while later she came up with the black box in her hand. ‘This surely has to be the key.’

‘It isn’t connected to anything.’

‘The original must have been.’

‘Then why didn’t the Aachim’s mancery reconstruct it?’

‘Perhaps the vital parts were no longer there.’ Malien seemed to be looking right through Tiaan to the far wall. She often appeared lost in another world, or a distant time. Or perhaps she was
holding
the Well from afar.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ said Tiaan.

‘I hardly know myself. I’m thinking as I go. The original construct was destroyed by Yggur’s blast –’

‘Completely?’

‘There’s little in a construct to burn, but its parts would have fused. The crystals commonly used in the Art would not melt, though they may have shattered. Traces would remain, enough for Aachim metalmancers to reconstruct what was there. And yet …’

‘What?’ said Tiaan.

Malien looked frustrated. ‘
I don’t know
. Rulke’s construct flew. These are as exact copies as could be made, but they cannot fly. What did Vithis miss? What have I?’

Tiaan prised the top off the black box, which contained metal coils and shaped pieces of magnetic iron, as well as a number of evenly spaced ceramic plates on which were mounted rows of metal sockets. She held the box up to her eye. ‘There are dozens of tiny little holes in the back.’

Malien raised the box to the light. ‘Fifty-four of them. I wonder what they’re for?’

‘Perhaps it gets hot inside and they let the hot air out.’

‘They’re too small.’ Malien counted the metal sockets. ‘Also fifty-four pairs. That can’t be an accident.’

‘They’re meant to hold something.’

‘Whatever it was, all were the same size and shape.’

‘Small crystals?’ Tiaan said doubtfully.

‘How could small crystals draw such power that the construct would grow red-hot beneath? And why was no trace found of them?’

‘There are crystals that, when heated, simply evaporate, though none are any use in mancing …’

‘That’s it! Tiaan, name those crystals.’

‘Ice, sulphur, iodine … There must be others, but none are good for making hedrons –’

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