Chimaera

by Ian Irvine

  She closed her eyes, mentally rotating her network of node symbols, field colours and interconnecting lines. It took some minutes before she was sure. ‘There should be one at the foot of the Ramparts of Tacnah.’

  ‘Where abouts?’

  Tiaan showed Flydd on the map.

  ‘That’s eighty leagues from where we’re headed. Isn’t there anything nearer?’

  ‘Probably, but without studying every node I wouldn’t know.’

  Flydd set up Golias’s globe and called Irisis. ‘Tell Chissmoul to fly to the Ramparts of Tacnah.’ He gave instructions. ‘Call on your farspeaker when you’re in place.’

  Malien veered to the left to pass over a mass of lyrinx, assembled near a lake beyond the forest. Flydd counted the enemy numbers, then called Troist and gave their position.

  Once they were in place at the southern end of Warde Yallock, late that afternoon, Flydd dragged the crate into the shelter of a tilted plate of rock, one of a group of ancient standing stones dating from the dawn of civilisation on Santhenar, and prised the smaller crate open. Tiaan yawned as she looked inside. It contained a complex device made of green crystals linked into an open sphere with thick wafers of beaten platinum, silver, gold and copper foil.

  ‘It’s my version of the node-drainer that we encountered in Snizort,’ said Flydd. ‘Yggur and I have been working on it, on and off, for months. Irisis and Yggur have another. They’ll call when they’re ready.’

  He lay down under the tree, tipped his hat over his eyes to keep out the sinking sun, and began to snore.

  ‘You might have told me what I’m supposed to do,’ muttered Tiaan.

  ‘He likes to be mysterious,’ said Fyn-Mah. ‘Get some rest. You look exhausted.’

  ‘I haven’t slept well since we attacked Oellyll, but I won’t be able to sleep until I know what I’m meant to do.’

  ‘As I understand it, you’re to send messages, using Golias’s globe, to Irisis. She’ll send back while we watch how weak or strong the messages are, how much delayed, and so forth. Afterwards we’ll set the node-drainer to draw power from this node and send again. We’ll take ever more power, and do it over and over, while Irisis and Yggur will be doing the same at the linked node.’

  ‘To what purpose?’ said Tiaan.

  ‘We hope to discover how the fields, or the nodes, are linked. If we can solve that problem it might just give us a chance.’

  Flydd woke Tiaan in the middle of the night and she sat with Golias’s globe on a flat rock, waiting, listening and sending, until dawn. The globe squelched periodically, conveying reports of lyrinx sightings all over the place, attacks in various spots, and details of the movements of the refugees and their escorts. Troist’s army had taken heavy casualties before beating off their ambushers, and the report was gruesomely graphic. Tiaan’s resolve to find a peaceful solution grew stronger.

  They began again a few hours after dawn, though she could sense Flydd’s frustration now. He didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Her head was aching from overuse of the amplimet and she was well aware of that danger.

  ‘I’ll have to stop,’ she said not long before sunset. ‘My head is killing me.’

  ‘If we can do just one more test,’ said Flydd, ‘it will complete this set and we’ll be finished for the day. Can you manage it?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Tiaan sighed, knowing that Flydd would keep pushing until he got what he wanted.

  ‘Do you want me to increase the draining?’ asked Fyn-Mah, who was wearing an operator’s wire-and-crystal cap, with her hands inside Flydd’s node-drainer.

  ‘Leave it as it is,’ said Flydd. ‘We’ll send the message on another farspeaker setting.’

  He told Tiaan what it was and she relayed that to Irisis.

  ‘Ready, Tiaan?’ said Flydd.

  ‘As long as it doesn’t take too long,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t feel very well.’

  ‘Why don’t I send the message?’ said Flydd. ‘Can you set the globe for me first? You’re a lot quicker at it than I am.’

  ‘All right.’ Tiaan slipped the amplimet down her front. It felt hot. She put her hands around the smooth surface of the farspeaker and mentally spun the globes to visualise what to do with her hands. Her head felt fuzzy and she couldn’t recall the setting she was supposed to use.

  She did it again but a different setting flashed into her mind, one far removed from any she’d ever used before. She turned to Flydd but he’d gone across to Fyn-Mah and had his arms deep in the node-drainer.

  She tried to concentrate but could only see the new setting, not the one Flydd had given her. But then, what did it matter as long as Irisis’s farspeaker was set the same? She didn’t relay the new setting to Irisis – it was easier to change Irisis’s farspeaker the way she’d reset Flydd’s from Bannador a while ago.

  Then, without thinking that Golias’s globe was self-powered, Tiaan drew power through the amplimet, spun the spheres and stopped them one by one until they lined up correctly. As the innermost sphere slowed and stopped, the amplimet flared. Its light shone through her blouse and the crystal grew so bright that it burned her and she had to jerk it out.

  The node-drainer let out a loud crackling squeal.

  ‘What’s that?’ cried Flydd, whipping his hands out as if they were on fire. ‘What’s happening?’

  He ran to Tiaan, shielding his eyes. ‘Tiaan?’

  She blinked, shook her head then closed her fist around the amplimet. She cut off power and the sound from the node-drainer stopped abruptly.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Irisis roared from the farspeaker.

  Flydd went still, turned to Malien, eyes wide, then back to the farspeaker. ‘What just happened, Irisis?’

  ‘The node flared out of control. The field was twenty times as strong as before. I could see it with my eyes open.’

  ‘But that’s not possible,’ said Flydd. ‘It was stronger here too.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Tiaan heard Yggur say, hoarsely. He sounded uneasy.

  ‘Tiaan did something with Golias’s globe, and the amplimet.’ Flydd turned to her. ‘What did you do, Tiaan?’

  She explained as best she could. ‘Is something the matter?’

  ‘I think,’ said Yggur over the farspeaker, ‘you’ve stumbled on a way to control the nodes themselves.’ The unease was gone; he let out an uncharacteristic whoop. ‘It’s a secret no mancer ever expected to find. Do you see the implications, Flydd?’

  ‘I’m beginning to see the perils,’ said Malien.

  ‘If we can control the nodes,’ said Flydd, ‘we can snatch power from the lyrinx while maintaining it for ourselves, despite their power patterner. We’d have as much power as we wanted, and they’d have none. Then we’d take the battle to them.’

  ‘As long as they don’t get it first,’ said Tiaan. ‘I’ve seen a pair of nodes acting that way before, now that I think of it. It was in Alcifer, not long before Oellyll was abandoned.’

  ‘So the enemy may also be closing in on the secret,’ said Yggur. ‘And it may not be such a large step for them, since they’ve had node-drainers for years.’

  Flydd scowled. ‘Just when I thought we’d made a breakthrough.’

  ‘We may have, but it’s a race,’ said Yggur. ‘To the winner, ultimate power. To the losers, oblivion.’

  That’s all you mancers ever think of, Tiaan thought despairingly. She wanted to run away with the secret and deny it to all of them. But of course she could not – that would be playing into the hands of the enemy. Surely there had to be another way.

  ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ said Flydd. ‘How are you feeling, Tiaan?’

  ‘A little better.’ She wasn’t, but she might as well get it over with.

  ‘Are you up to showing us exactly what you did?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Tiaan did it a second time. The node-drainer and the amplimet reacted exactly as before, and the effects were felt, as before, at Irisis’s end.
r />   ‘What else do we need, to control nodes?’ said Yggur through the farspeaker, once all was quiet again.

  ‘Two things,’ said Flydd. ‘Firstly, a completed map of the fields, including the Dry Sea, which Tiaan hasn’t even looked at. Tiaan, I think you and Malien had better get that done right away.’

  ‘I’d prefer to be asked,’ Malien said frostily. ‘I’m an ally, not a lackey, as I believe I’ve pointed out to you before.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Flydd. ‘I forgot myself. Malien –’

  ‘Certainly I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘Tiaan, what about you?’

  Tiaan had to be asked twice, for her mind had wandered a long way as she worked through the possibilities of this unexpected discovery. ‘Yes,’ she said absently. ‘I’d be glad to survey the Dry Sea.’

  ‘Irisis, Yggur,’ Flydd called on the farspeaker. ‘Pack up and meet us at the southern end of Warde Yallock.’ He gave directions. ‘Tiaan, go to bed before you collapse. We’ll talk in the morning.’

  ‘What’s the second thing we need?’ said Yggur.

  ‘A field controller. It’s a device I’ve been thinking about ever since Klarm and I went through the Council’s secret workrooms in Nennifer. Ghorr’s best mancers and artisans began working on a field controller as soon as they finished making the node-breaker we took to Snizort. They built a rude prototype, though they could never get it to work. Klarm brought it back in the dirigible and I’ve also fiddled with it over the summer. It’s in the other crate.’

  ‘But you couldn’t get it to work either,’ said Yggur.

  ‘No, but Gilhaelith, unwittingly, gave me some fresh ideas when he was telling me about the power patterner. Tiaan’s discovery might be the missing piece of the puzzle. As soon as you get here, we’ll go over everything. Are you there, Irisis?’

  ‘Where else would I be?’ she said.

  ‘I want you and Tiaan to pull apart the failed field controller and work out how to rebuild it to make use of Tiaan’s discovery. Just throw it together anyhow, for the time being. Tiaan can help with the initial tests, then be on her way to the Dry Sea.’

  ‘And me?’ said Irisis.

  ‘If the tests work, I’ll give you as many artisans as you need. You’ve got to produce a reliable field controller and you haven’t got long. It’ll be the challenge of your life.’

  ‘It’s for all our lives,’ said Yggur.

  SIXTY

  Nish watched his friends fly away, unable to speak.

  Once the last refugees reported that they’d met Orgestre’s army and no longer needed Troist’s protection, his infantry and its escort of clankers set off up the Great North Road, which here ran north-west. Worm Wood was about twenty leagues away, the edge of the forest curving east until it ran into the northern extremity of the Borgis Woods, a forest just as dark and tangled, and with a more dubious reputation, than Worm Wood itself. The road ran through the forest for twenty leagues, then beside it and the lands between the Great Chain of Lakes, before finally passing into the flat drylands to the north. In all, the army had to cross more than forty leagues of rugged country, ripe for ambushing, before they reached the relative security of the plains of Tacnah. Nish knew they would be lucky to get that far.

  ‘Nish,’ said Gilhaelith as they camped on the fringe of the forest, ‘you’re a resourceful fellow. Come with me.’

  Nish wondered why Gilhaelith had remained behind with the rearguard instead of flying to safety with the Council. Was it because Yggur was so hostile to him? Whatever the reason, Troist wasn’t bothered about it. He’d invited Gilhaelith to travel with him in his twelve-legged command clanker, often consulting him about the lyrinx’s mancery and how they might use it to hinder the army’s progress.

  Nish followed the woolly-headed mancer down through the rows of tents and clankers to a larger tent, guarded by two soldiers, set in an isolated spot under the trees. They went inside. It was dark apart from a glowing globe with a bowl of smoked glass over the top, reducing the light to a glimmer. A folding table had been set up in the middle. Merryl sat on one side, a writing tablet before him, a pen in his hand. A young, dark-haired woman on the other side of the table had her hands around a master farspeaker whose interior globes were spinning. Her head was bent so far that Nish couldn’t see her face, only a long, pointed nose.

  Nish turned to Gilhaelith but he put a finger across his lips. ‘Later.’

  Nothing happened for some minutes, when there came a whisper from the farspeaker. The dark young woman froze the globes. Again the whisper. Merryl wrote something on his pad. They waited. Eventually, another whisper. Another wait, interminable this time.

  ‘All right,’ said Gilhaelith after more than an hour had passed. ‘Take a break.’

  They went outside. ‘You’re spying on the lyrinx,’ said Nish.

  Gilhaelith raised an interrogative eyebrow.

  ‘Merryl’s the only one who speaks their language,’ he added.

  ‘Very good, artificer.’

  Nish had an uncomfortable feeling that the mancer was laughing at him. He’d never worked Gilhaelith out; he did not fit any of the kinds of people Nish had met before.

  ‘Daesmie,’ Gilhaelith indicated the young woman through the tent flap, ‘has a talent akin to Tiaan’s, though undeveloped by comparison. She was only discovered recently – one of many projects the Council has going behind the scenes, Flydd tells me. Daesmie is able to sense lyrinx mindspeech and tune the master farspeaker to pull it out of the ethyr. There’s one problem, of course.’

  ‘There are half a million lyrinx,’ said Nish, ‘and they’d be using mindspeech all the time. How can you pick out what’s important in all that racket?’

  ‘On the contrary, few lyrinx have the talent and it’s exhausting to use. They employ it on the battlefield, or to signal danger or cry for help, so everything they say is of interest to us. And only the most powerful lyrinx can call for long distances, so if the lesser ones are mindspeaking further away, we don’t hear it.’

  ‘So what’s the problem?’

  ‘They seldom identify themselves or where they are. It limits the usefulness of spying on them.’

  ‘Have you learned anything interesting yet?’

  ‘Indeed. Twice we’ve had warning of attacks before they occurred. Only a minute or two, but it makes a difference. The attack this morning would have cut the army in half if I hadn’t alerted Troist to it.’

  Nish had wondered why Troist seemed so happy with Gilhaelith. ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Read everything Merryl and the other listeners write down.’

  ‘What others?’

  ‘There are five tents down here, all listening on different globe settings. Merryl has taught the listeners the most common words of the lyrinx language, and each listener is recording pages of messages every hour. I don’t have the time to read it all, so you can do it for me.’

  ‘I’m Troist’s adjutant, surr, and I’ve a lot to do.’

  ‘And he’s made you over to me for the time being.’

  ‘Really?’ said Nish, unconvinced.

  ‘Go and ask him,’ said Gilhaelith. ‘The work I’m doing is vital to the survival of this army.’

  ‘All right,’ said Nish. ‘I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘Excellent. If you see something strange, or something you don’t understand, call me.’

  Gilhaelith hurried away. ‘But what are you looking for?’ Nish called.

  ‘Something they don’t want us to know,’ Gilhaelith said over his shoulder.

  The next day was tedious and long. Nish sat in the tent, listening to the whispers in the background, which meant nothing to him, and reading though the pages as Merryl handed them to him. They were just a series of words, with annotations by Merryl, that did not make much sense.

  Great Lake (scratchy voice)

  Dawn! Dawn! (hoarse voice)

  Too late.

  Humans.

  Fly west to the … (uni
ntelligible.? Burning Mountain)

  (long pause)

  Fire? (hoarse voice)

  (short pause)

  Node failing. Node failing. Node fai – (powerful voice. female.? a matriarch)

  What node? (scratchy voice)

  Where are you? (hoarse voice)

  (burst of unintelligible chatter, many voices at once, then a long pause)

  Dawn? (hoarse voice)

  Dawn! (scratchy voice)

  Nish puzzled over the exchange. Were they planning an attack in the morning, as the army passed by a smaller lake between the two largest of the Great Chain of Lakes? Did it involve fire, or was that a completely separate remark? He scribbled two notes and sent them with the waiting runner to Troist and Gilhaelith. Let them agonise over it.

  His pages were piling up. He wondered about the other cry – about the node failing – but not for long. Node failures were increasingly common these days. He made a note on his summary sheet and got on with his work.

  Rubbing sore eyes, Nish shuffled his papers and stacked them in the pile. He’d been reading for eighteen hours without a break and every time he shifted his head vertigo made him feel as though he was falling off his seat. It had been hard enough in the tent, for one recorder’s writing could have been made by a spider crawling out of an inkwell, and another’s was so tiny Nish had to squint to read it. In a jouncing, rattling clanker on a winding mountain road it was almost impossible. He prayed that the column would stop soon. He was desperate for sleep but would be lucky to get an hour. Even here, the pages were coming in faster than he could read them.

  He had dozed off, in spite of the vibration, when the clanker stopped suddenly. There were shouts and screams outside, while a red glow lit up the sky ahead. The operator thrust up the top hatch, shouting to the shooter.

  ‘What is it, shooter? Are we under attack?’

  The shooter did not answer at once. The threaded rods of his javelard whirred and the mechanism creaked as he turned it this way and that.

  ‘There’s a big fire up ahead,’ he said.

  Nish reached for the rear hatch but Merryl put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Remember what Gilhaelith said. We’re to keep away from the fighting unless our lives are directly threatened.’