by Rachel White
It was going to be a long two weeks.
Chapter Fourteen
Over the next few days, Rallis learned a great deal more about Jev. Lieutenant Taarq appeared to have decided that, since he wasn't allowed to take Rallis back to Adesa, he would give him the world's most thorough tour instead.
"I can't show you everything," Lieutenant Taarq said, though he certainly seemed to be trying. "There are places that are off-limits, of course. And not everything is interesting. But since you're here…"
Here was another wing of the palace—at least, Rallis thought it was still the palace, though they had walked a fair way to get there. They were viewing the engine room, where engineers maintained one of the enormous Exalted engines that powered the citadels. The previous days had included visits to the library, the throne room—absent the Empress—and the mirror pool at the central temple of the Exalted. Interspersed with those attractions were more meetings with every single one of Lieutenant Taarq's pro-Adesa associates. The engine room was the latest destination on the list.
"Are we allowed in?" he asked, cautiously following Lieutenant Taarq down the hallway toward a pair of tall double doors.
Lieutenant Taarq gave him a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "I have permission to be here."
"Do you have permission to bring me?"
"The empress said you were to be treated as a guest."
Rallis snorted. "I don't think this is what she meant."
Lieutenant Taarq reached the doors and slowly pushed one open, peering inside. "You won't be in trouble."
"Will you?"
"You needn't worry."
He indicated that Rallis should follow him in, so Rallis did, half-sure he would be stopped and arrested at any moment—but they weren't, and it was hard to remember his fears when he saw what was on the other side.
A circular room stretched before him, at least five hundred paces in diameter, every inch of the floor covered with beaten sheet-metal flooring. In the middle of the room was an enormous object, ten meters high and rumbling intensely enough to rattle Rallis's teeth. It was oblong and glowing, formed of a solid metal core encased by a delicate cage. Even from a distance, he could feel the heat it gave off, so intense it plastered Rallis's hair to his forehead and drew all the blood to his face. The whole room echoed with the vibrations of that alien creation.
"What is this place?" he asked, inanely.
Lieutenant Taarq gave him a crooked smile. He was pleased to the point of self-satisfaction; it was a terrifying reminder how far gone Rallis was, that he found the smugness endearing. "The engine room."
"This is an Exalted engine?"
"Precisely."
"Can we see it?"
"This way." Lieutenant Taarq led him toward the center of the room, apparently unconcerned with the looks they were getting from the nearby engineers. As they drew closer, he raised a hand and hailed someone. "Leros!"
A man glanced briefly over and then looked again, longer. Rallis recognized him: Mican Leros, one of Lieutenant Taarq's associates who had attended a few of their gatherings. He was a Jevite engineer, a quiet and sardonic sort who often seemed to be the straight man to Corranis and Falaq's theatrics. Even from a distance, Rallis could see the face he made, though he did start trudging toward them.
"Taarq." Leros's voice was as flat as his expression. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm showing Citizen Yy around the citadel. I thought he would be interested in the engine."
Leros squinted at Rallis suspiciously. "You're allowed to take him out of his rooms?"
"Something like that. May I show him around?"
"Are you allowed to take him out?" Leros repeated.
Lieutenant Taarq gave him a serene smile. "Would I be here if I wasn't?"
Leros grunted. "If you think I'm going to fall for your charms, you're wrong. Do what you want, but any trouble is on your head. You're not even supposed to be here, you know."
Lieutenant Taarq bowed to him. "Of course." To Rallis, he added, "Don't mind him. He's all tooth, no blood. We worked together, for a time."
"That's one way to put it," Leros muttered. He led them toward the engine, scowling at everyone in their path. Though he couldn't have been more than thirty-five, his attitude was that of a man twice his age. "I was Impressed into service in your Legion, more like it."
"But it got you this position."
"And look what that's given me." They stopped in front of the engine and Leros smacked the outer shell with his palm, which struck Rallis as extremely disrespectful. "This breaking down piece of Exalted refuse and you always coming around as though we're friends."
His tone seemed sincerely bitter, but Lieutenant Taarq laughed. "Am I that bad?"
"Intolerable," Leros drawled. "You. Adesi."
"Yes?"
"What do you think of the engine?"
The engine. He gazed up at it, struggling for words. It was very large, at least twice his height, and shaped like an egg resting upright. A latticework outer shell made of copper enclosed a heavy, boxy object built from interlocking pipes and pistons. On top of the interior box rested a strange half-dome formed from a material Rallis didn't recognize. Black as onyx and almost silky in appearance, it seemed to be the source of the bone-shaking vibrations. Lines of light wound across its surface, forming an intricate pattern that felt as though it had meaning, if only Rallis could understand it. Wires jutted haphazardly out from the top of the outer shell, while the lower half of the engine was lodged in an indentation in the floor. More wires and pipes emerged from the engine on all sides, disappearing into the floor and looping upwards through the latticework like climbing vines to attach themselves to the ceiling.
Looking at it, it was obvious where the Jevites had taken their inspiration for their fliers and their guns and their machinery, but there was something different about the engine. Though he had never seen it before, he could tell just by looking that the hand that built it hadn't belonged to a Lyran.
"It's…beautiful," said Rallis.
Leros gave an approving grunt. "I suppose that works."
"Does it support the whole citadel?"
"Only part. This is the palace engine. There are five altogether."
"Five?"
Leros sighed. "Adesi," he muttered, but there was no bite to it. "It's not going to make sense to you if you haven't grown up learning about it."
"It doesn't make much sense to me, and I did," said Lieutenant Taarq helpfully, earning a fierce scowl.
"The citadel is a circle." Leros sketched a lopsided circle in the air between them. "This is one of the engines, the central one. There are four more at the cardinal points. All the citadels are built that way—it keeps them in balance. The engines work together to support the weight of the citadels and power everything built on the surface."
"What would happen if one of the engines stopped running?" Rallis asked, tempted to touch his hand to the coppery latticework in front of him.
"We're going to find out. The engines are—"
"Breaking down," said Lieutenant Taarq. "Just like everything else in Jev."
Leros gave him another disapproving look. He seemed more offended for the engine's honor than displeased with Lieutenant Taarq's lack of patriotism. "That's one way to put it. The core isn't what it used to be. Sooner or later, it will fail." He rubbed the side of his face. "When that happens, we're in for some hurt."
"Do you not have enough gorrian to make a new core?"
"It's not gorrian in these engines. It's Exalted technology." Leros rapped the engine with his knuckles, his expression almost fond. "They brought their citadel cores with them. You see that black part?"
He meant the half-dome, still dancing with light. "Yes."
"The core is inside there. It's hard to get a good look at it, but we've seen enough to know that it's not a material we have around here. When they built other things after arriving here, they used gorrian, so we leaned to use it too, but whatever's in th
is is something else. I don't even know if it's found on Lyr."
"We tried making replicas with gorrian, but they never worked," Lieutenant Taarq added.
"They were a nightmare. That much gorrian, under that much stress—people died," said Leros blandly.
Before Rallis, the great Exalted engine hummed with power, giving off a golden light. He brushed his fingers over the outer shell and then drew his hand back, startled, when the surface turned out to be hot enough to burn him.
"It's hot," said Leros helpfully as Rallis cursed under his breath.
Lieutenant Taarq drew closer. "Do you need a medical bar?"
"I'm all right."
Leros glanced over his shoulder. "You should probably go. Captain Vaquel is coming through soon. He won't like seeing you here."
"Of course. Thank you, Leros. I appreciate it."
"Don't do anything stupid, Taarq," said Leros, eyeing Rallis again. "Though, knowing you, it's already too late."
Lieutenant Taarq laughed and bowed to him and beckoned to Rallis. Together, they made their way out of the engine room through the far door, past the engineers giving them odd looks and the occasional suspicious legionnaire. In the hallway, Lieutenant Taarq drew him to a halt. "Your hand—"
"It's fine. I was just startled."
"Are you sure?"
"It's fine."
For a moment, he was sure Lieutenant Taarq would protest, but instead he nodded toward the end of the hall. "In that case, this way. I have one more thing to show you."
*~*~*
Another short flier journey took them back to the great temple of the Exalted and its pristine mirror pool, so clear and flat Rallis could make out every detail of his tired face when he looked at his reflection. "You already brought me here."
"Not quite. You'll see."
The previous visit had taken them inside the temple, wandering through dim, echoing halls and observing the Exalted idols that littered the space. Now Lieutenant Taarq led him around the side of the building. Behind the temple was a large wall, perhaps three times Rallis's height and so completely covered with greenery it looked as though it were made out of plants. Above it, a glittering structure rose into the sky. He blinked at the sight of it, more confused than anything. "A greenhouse?"
"You don't find it interesting?" Lieutenant Taarq's voice was teasing. When Rallis made a face at him, he laughed. "These are the Hanging Gardens of the Exalted. Technically, you're not allowed in here unless you're a monk or a member of the royal family, but I know a way in."
Five minutes of walking took them to another spot along the wall, as green and nondescript as the rest. Rallis watched Lieutenant Taarq dig around among the leaves for a few moments. "Here," he said, stepping back with a pleased smile.
He pushed away heaving hanging vines, revealing a small door with a rusted iron lock. When he gave the lock a tug, the shackle slipped free; he left it hanging in the latch and pulled the door just slightly open.
"Are you sure about this?" Rallis asked. "It seems…questionable. What if I'm caught here?"
"You're in my company. I'll take the blame."
"You're not supposed to be here either. Doesn't that mean we'll be in more trouble if we're caught?"
He got a crooked smile in response. "Yes, but we'll only be in trouble with the monks who run this temple. Nothing to worry about." He slipped through to the other side before Rallis could respond. It seemed like a terrible idea, but Rallis followed him through the veil of green into the garden anyway.
On the other side of the wall, an emerald-green lawn stretched out before them, bordered along the far edge by a row of thin trees with vibrant orange-pink flowers. To the left, a small waterfall from a higher tier of the garden poured into a bubbling stream that cut across the middle of the grass and then wound into more trees hemming in the lawn from the right. Vines and leaves growing on the greenhouse walls brushed their shoulders and dripped water onto their clothes as they passed. Everything was green and pink and blue and yellow, saturated, jewel-bright colors that he had never seen anywhere else on Jev. The smell of sweet flowers hung all around them and the warm, damp air misted his face and made his clothes cling to his skin.
They sat at a bench near the stream, not speaking. Lieutenant Taarq seemed lost in thought, and Rallis was too busy taking in the sights around him. Between the warmth and the color, it was more like Adesa than anywhere else on Jev. Still, it was hard not to keep an ear out for any wandering monks, and the garden itself had a discomfiting nature that he couldn't quite place.
"Are you sure they won't catch us?" he asked
"The monks? They won't come around for another half hour."
"They have patrols?"
"Why wouldn't they?"
Rallis snorted. "You Jevites are militant."
"I suppose." Lieutenant Taarq trailed his fingers in the water, apparently unconcerned with keeping his gloves dry. "I hope you enjoyed seeing the engine."
"It was amazing." His fingertips still ached. "What will you do once they stop working?"
"Ah," said Lieutenant Taarq. He frowned at the stream. "We'll…"
The answer hung between them, unspoken: We'll come to Adesa. They already had.
It had been common knowledge on Adesa for centuries that Jev would eventually turn its eye downward. Their lives depended on creations out of their control, creations that would—that had to—inevitably fail. When that happened, they would need an alternative means to sustain themselves, and Adesa was right there, too tempting to resist.
The hope had been that when that day came, Adesa would defeat them. Jevite technology may have been superior, but in resources Adesa outmatched them ten to one. The Adesi had thought that would give them an advantage, that even if Jev had better guns and fliers that could carry soldiers through the air and medicine that could heal you of a wound hours after you received it, Adesa's natural bounty would allow them to successfully fight back.
In the end, it hadn't made a bit of difference. What good did land and water do when faced with an enemy who could turn you into chunks of meat? Who could blind you, deafen you in a moment's time? Who could kill you and ten of your allies with an inhuman gun before you could even draw your blade?
"It's not as though Adesa can fix the engines," Rallis said into the silence. "What did you intend to do once you arrived?"
"I don't know if there were specific intentions. We need resources. Beyond that…I couldn't say."
A new thought popped into Rallis's mind, chilling his blood despite the warm air. "If they all fail…won't the citadels fall?"
After a long moment, Lieutenant Taarq said, "Yes. Probably."
The citadels were directly above Adesa. If they fell…between Jevite casualties and Adesi, the death toll would be unimaginable.
"But that won't happen any time soon!" Lieutenant Taarq continued. He glanced at Rallis, all nervous energy again. "They still work. They're breaking down, but that's not the same as being broken. We don't expect any of them to stop working for at least a few decades. Perhaps even centuries. Ideally, by then, we'll know how to fix them."
"Ideally?"
"Anything is possible."
"That's not comforting," Rallis told him, making him grin.
"No one is going to let them fall to Lyr. It would be at least as bad for Jev as for Adesa. I can say that with confidence."
And yet…What would they do if the engines failed? What if they failed unexpectedly? Would they pray to the Exalted to save them? He couldn't imagine that would be very productive. The Exalted were, as far as he could tell, very distant saviors.
"What do you think it was like for the people in Uranya when they came?" he asked. "When the Exalted raised the citadels. Do you think they were afraid?"
"Of what?"
"Of living in the sky." Did they struggle to survive, disconnected from Lyr? When the Exalted built the citadels, they hadn't covered them with dirt or plants or water—Jevites had done that later. Had the fi
rst Jevites starved? Had any of them ever walked off the edge by mistake, following familiar roads, expecting the ground under their feet and finding only air?
"They didn't raise the citadels immediately. They worked on them for…I think it was something like a century, and it took almost three hundred more for the citadels to rise as high as they are now." Lieutenant Taarq laughed. "I can't imagine it would be very pleasant to be on a citadel that shot into the air all at once."
Rallis laughed as well. "Probably not."
"People had time to acclimate. I don't think it was too difficult to get used to it. By the time they were too high to safely climb or rappel off, they had the technology to fly. It's not as though anyone was trapped."
"I suppose."
"I sometimes wonder what it was like to make that choice, though." Lieutenant Taarq leaned back on his hands, his eyes on the glass ceiling of the greenhouse far overhead. "To decide to go with the citadels once they started to rise."
"Would you have stayed on Lyr?"
"I'm not sure."
"I would have stayed," Rallis admitted. "I don't like it here. I miss…the ground." The dirt and grass under his feet felt real enough, but he couldn't escape the constant thought, lurking in the back of his mind, that they were nothing more than a thin covering spread over a great metal plate, and that metal plate rested on air. Everything solid beneath him was an illusion. The stream too: the water was very clear and clean, rippling over small rocks set into the stream bed, but it wasn't the same as back home. That was what felt so uncanny about the sight: there were no animals in the water. No frogs, no birds, no fish.
Fake. That was what unnerved him about the garden. As beautiful as it was, nothing about it was authentic. Each plant and tree and stone had been carefully placed by a Jevite hand. The stream trickling through the grass hadn't formed from nature over the course of hundreds or thousands of years. Jevite workers operating under the orders of Jevite architects and engineers had excavated the ground and filled it with sand and river rocks and water. But they had neglected to add any animals, and so it ended up being a mockery of the real thing, half-finished, uncanny.