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'Maybe it it made the gate go wrong,' Tiaan said hopefully. made the gate go wrong,' Tiaan said hopefully.
'No. The gate corrupted the amplimet.'
More to think about. 'Where am I to go?'
'Where best your knowledge, and your skills, might be employed to bring good out of ill.'
'If I went back to the manufactory it would take a year to get there,' Tiaan mused, 'if I got there at all. And And if I dared risk their punishment. Going west would take months of equally dangerous travel. By then it would be too late, even if I knew what to do.' if I dared risk their punishment. Going west would take months of equally dangerous travel. By then it would be too late, even if I knew what to do.'
'You must work out your own path. I can't advise you. But before you go, there is one thing you can do for me.'
'Yes?' said Tiaan, sure she was not going to like it.
'You're a skilled artisan,' said Malien. 'Perhaps you could pull the crashed constructs apart and make a working one from them.'
SEVEN.
It shivered Tiaan from the roots of her hair to her toenails. From the moment she had set eyes on the constructs, she had longed to see how they were powered, controlled and built. It was fate.
'I'll begin right away.' She leapt up. 'This minute!'
'I was about to prepare dinner.'
'What if the lyrinx come back? I don't dare miss the chance.' In truth, she longed to feel metal in her hands again. Devices were logical, predictable, reliable. They did not lie or cheat or betray.
Malien smiled, though it had a faraway edge. 'Dinner will be ready shortly.'
Tiaan hurried down the stairs, her heart pounding. As an artisan, new ways of seeing and doing had always fascinated her. Everything about these constructs must be new, since they had come from another world.
Down on the gate level, she walked around the three machines, frowning. Without understanding how they worked, it was difficult to know where to start. The one that lay on its top looked the worst damaged, and no doubt righting it would cause more. The second had its front smashed in; the third, one side crumpled, and its upper part warped. Tiaan tried to pull the metal back into place but could not budge it. Though just a thin, curved sheet, it had the strength of the plate armour on the side of a clanker.
Climbing the construct with the crushed front, she looked in through the hatch. It was more s.p.a.cious than it had appeared, though it must have been dreadfully crowded with a dozen pa.s.sengers inside. Above and behind the hatch, a cramped turret was fitted with a javelard-like weapon, similar to the one that had killed Haani. She turned her back to it.
Inside the hatch was a small ovoid compartment with s.p.a.ce for half a dozen people to stand close together. Seats pulled out from the rear wall. At the front was a curved binnacle of coloured gla.s.s, the pale green of young lemon leaves. Below that was a bank of finger-shaped levers, several coin-sized wheels and many coloured k.n.o.bs or b.u.t.tons. Between the binnacle and the seat, a hexagonal rod came up from the floor, sprouting into a six-sided trumpet with a studded k.n.o.b on top. The trumpet could be moved back and forth as well as from side to side and up and down. Nothing happened when she tried it. On the floor beside it were five crescent-shaped pedals.
She wiggled the levers and pressed the b.u.t.tons and pedals, to no effect. Perhaps the mechanism was damaged, or there was a secret way of operating it.
To the left of the trumpet an oval hole gave access to the lower level. Stepping onto the top rung of a metal ladder, Tiaan went down tentatively. A lightgla.s.s began to glow. The egg-shaped interior was decorated with inlaid silver and other precious metals in the intricate Aachim way. Handles ran down the wall in front of her. She pulled one and an ingenious bunk unfolded. Another revealed a small cupboard containing mugs, plates and cutlery. A third seemed to be a weapons cabinet, though all it contained was a sword shaped like a cutla.s.s and quarrels for a crossbow. A fourth held tools of unfathomable purpose.
Lifting a recessed hatch in the floor, she found what she a.s.sumed to be the driving mechanism. Some of its components resembled those she had used to build the port-all: crystals of various kinds, thick and robust gla.s.s tubes in the form of doughnuts and twisticons (as little Haani had called them), and other structures of ceramic and metal. The familiar shapes and components were comforting. The port-all had worked, therefore she might be able to make this construct operate.
Going back to the operator's compartment, she checked it more thoroughly. Everything was as dead as before. Climbing out, she walked around the machine. It did not seem seem badly damaged, though a vital part might have been broken in the collision or the subsequent fall from the gate. But surely the Aachim would not build a war machine that could be disabled so easily? badly damaged, though a vital part might have been broken in the collision or the subsequent fall from the gate. But surely the Aachim would not build a war machine that could be disabled so easily?
She checked the one on its roof. The top of the machine was crushed; she could not get in. It was hard to imagine its vital parts surviving such an impact. The third construct, lying on its side, proved similar to the first but was badly damaged inside.
Returning to the first construct, she began to remove the damaged front section. The work required the utmost concentration, for she had to deduce how every part worked, and the right tool to use with it. Tiaan became so engrossed that she lost all track of time. She had part of the damaged section in pieces when she realised, with a start, that Malien was standing right behind her.
'Where did you spring from?' Tiaan exclaimed.
'Whistling while you work,' said Malien. 'This is a change from yesterday.'
'I've missed my craft. Is it dinnertime already?'
'It went cold ten hours ago. I came to call you to breakfast.'
Tiaan was astounded. Yes, dawn was outlining the hole in the wall of the mountain. 'I had no idea. I'm sorry.'
'It doesn't matter. Why are you taking the whole front to pieces?'
'I was planning to replace it with parts from one of the others.'
Malien squatted beside her, reached underneath and did something with her long fingers. There was a soft click. She did the same at the top and on the other side. 'Pull this.' She indicated a strut.
Tiaan did so, Malien tugged on the other, and the front section slid onto the floor.
'How did you do that?' Tiaan cried.
'I understand Aachim design,' Malien said.
Half an hour later, the undamaged front section of the other construct had been installed. Tiaan wiped her hands and stood back. The repaired construct, apart from the dust, looked as if it had just been built.
'There's still the bigger problem to solve,' said Tiaan. 'How to make it go.'
'Best leave that for later. Aachim machines can be b.o.o.by-trapped and even an expert would not work on one after a sleepless night. I'll come down later and teach you a few words of our tongue. To understand what you're doing, you'll need to know the names of things.'
While Tiaan was sleeping, Malien returned to the Well. Even before she entered the conical chamber, she noticed that things were different. The entry pa.s.sage was less frigid, the barrier cubes more brittle. The blue-illuminated mist around the Well was as thick as cream and now extended higher than her head. Malien felt resistance as she pushed though it to the Well.
She peered down anxiously. What if it had begun to unfreeze? She listened for the telltale tinkle of cracking ice the first sign. Nothing. The tendrils still coiled lazily inside. The Well was silent, the depths still. She relaxed. Not yet. Malien was not sure she could restrain it by herself. Not sure that any one person could.
On the way back, she debated whether to tell Tiaan about her worries. Malien decided to keep them to herself for as long as possible. It would not benefit Tiaan to know.
That afternoon, Malien began to teach Tiaan the rudiments of the Aachim tongue, focussing on the words needed for this kind of work. Though Tiaan spoke three languages the common tongues of the south-east, the west and the north as most people did, Aachim speech proved difficult. It was always a relief to get back to the real world of her work.
She spent days studying the construct but could understand neither how it was powered nor what mechanism it used to hover and move. Maybe it was beyond her understanding. Vithis, and the other Aachim, had emphasised their mastery of geomancy and the limited scope of her own abilities. Eventually, more exhausted by this failure than by all her previous labours, she went to sleep inside the construct.
Malien woke her, bearing a mug in each hand. While they sipped their zhur, as the thick red spicy beverage was called, Tiaan explained why she was so downcast.
'With your clankers,' said Malien, 'can anyone operate them?'
'Of course not! The operator has to be tuned to its controller, and when he leaves he always takes it with him. Without it, nothing can make a clanker go.'
'Except another operator with his own controller, presumably?'
'Well, yes, but not always. Do constructs operate the same way?'
'I don't know,' said Malien.
'That isn't much help,' Tiaan snapped.
'After Rulke built the very first construct,' Malien said carefully, 'at the time of the Tale of the Mirror Tale of the Mirror, our finest thinkers devoted much time and thought to such devices. How they could be built, powered and controlled. They failed. The problem was too difficult.'
'But later, humanity discovered how to use the field,' said Tiaan. 'Nunar's Theory showed us how, and then we learned to build clankers.'
'A primitive machine,' said Malien. 'I mean no insult,' she added when Tiaan bridled, 'but the one can hardly be compared to the other.'
You just can't help yourself, Tiaan thought. Your Aachim superiority is bred into you. She spoke aloud, 'Your people in Aachan succeeded.'
'They were more more desperate. And they had Rulke's original to use as a model, wrecked though it was.' She regarded Tiaan expectantly. 'So there must be a key for the machine.' desperate. And they had Rulke's original to use as a model, wrecked though it was.' She regarded Tiaan expectantly. 'So there must be a key for the machine.'
'I imagine they took it with them to prevent anyone else using it.'
'There may be a way around that. Leave it to me.'
Tiaan climbed inside, took off the lower hatch to reveal its workings, and sat with her legs dangling into the cavity. She created a mental image of the mechanism and turned it this way and that, trying to know know it. Not just the way an operator knew his clanker, but the way a master controller-maker knew the vagaries of the ever-fluctuating field that was the source of all power. Her talent for thinking in pictures allowed her to do that, and it had often helped her to solve problems. it. Not just the way an operator knew his clanker, but the way a master controller-maker knew the vagaries of the ever-fluctuating field that was the source of all power. Her talent for thinking in pictures allowed her to do that, and it had often helped her to solve problems.
How could could a construct float above the ground? What held it up? She could not work it out. The controller mechanisms seemed wrong for the field as she knew it. But of course constructs did not use the weak field, so presumably they must employ one of the strong nodal forces Nunar had speculated about. Deadly forces, even to experienced mancers. a construct float above the ground? What held it up? She could not work it out. The controller mechanisms seemed wrong for the field as she knew it. But of course constructs did not use the weak field, so presumably they must employ one of the strong nodal forces Nunar had speculated about. Deadly forces, even to experienced mancers.
A thought occurred to her. One problem an artisan had to solve, each time she made a controller, was how to tune it so that it did not react against the field but drew power smoothly from it. But what if a controller was tuned to resist resist the field? It, and whatever it was in, might be the field? It, and whatever it was in, might be repelled repelled by the field. Could that be done? by the field. Could that be done?
In her mental image she worked the mechanism trying to see what made it go, and noticed something curious. Behind the gla.s.s binnacle a small, cup-shaped receptacle rotated on a shaft, and as it reached the vertical its cap flipped open. It was about the right shape and size to take a small hedron. Looking beneath the binnacle, Tiaan found the receptacle. It was empty but she picked up faint traces of a crystal's aura. What if she put the amplimet in it?
She unfastened the drawstring, feeling that oneness she always felt when her fingers touched the glowing amplimet. She was about to slide it into the cup when Malien spoke from above.
'I wouldn't, if I were you.'
'Why not?' she asked testily.
'I told you the amplimet is deadly. And the people who built this construct had not seen one in four thousand years. Whatever crystal they used, it was nowhere near as powerful. The mechanism might burn out, or blow apart. Or melt the construct, and you and me, into puddles. If you must try such a dangerous experiment, do it with a lesser crystal.'
Tiaan could see the sense in that. 'I've got an ordinary hedron. Should I try that?'
'If you must; only know that anything you do here is a risk.'
'Why?'
'The Tirthrax node is one of the greatest in the world, and working so close to it may have unexpected effects. And then there is the Well ...'
'What about it?'
Malien hesitated, as if reluctant to speak of it at all. 'It has a somewhat ... uneasy balance with the node. I would not want to upset that.'
'I don't understand.'
'These are Aachim secrets, not for outsiders' ears.'
'How do you expect me to fix the construct if I don't know what's going on?'
'Very well! There are some things I can tell you, but you must promise to keep them secret.'
'Of course,' said Tiaan.
'The Well of Echoes has been captured but not tamed. Improper use of power might change it in an unpredictable way, or even allow it to break free break free! We are always careful with the Art here, and so must you be.' She turned away abruptly, ending the conversation.
That raised a dozen questions but Tiaan knew better than to ask them. She took her hand off the amplimet. The more Malien told her, the less she understood.
Putting it away, she weighed her hedron in her hand. Her jaw was clenched tight. Tiaan tried to relax. Reaching down, ever so carefully, she lowered the crystal into the cup, then whipped her hand out of the way.
Nothing happened. She looked up at Malien questioningly. 'What should I have expected?'
'I don't know.'
Tiaan was about to take it out when Malien said, 'No, leave it there. Something else may be required.'
'What?' Tiaan cried in frustration.
'Leave it until tomorrow. Things always seem better after a good night's sleep.'
'I like to keep going until I can't do any more.'
Malien's gaze was penetrating. 'I wonder about you, Tiaan.'
'What do you mean?' said Tiaan uncomfortably.
'What do you enjoy, apart from work?'
Tiaan did not understand the question. 'I love my work.'
'And I mine, but it is not all all of me. What are you hiding from?' of me. What are you hiding from?'
'I'm not hiding from anything,' she yelled, turning away. 'It's why I'm such a good artisan; because I work harder than everyone.'
'How old are you? No, you've already told me. You were twenty-one the day the gate opened.'
Tiaan hurled her wrench onto the floor. 'So?'
'Do you know my age?'
'You look about sixty, but Aachim age slowly. And I know you were alive at the time of the Mirror. So I would guess, 250?'
'I'm 385, a hundred years more than I ever expected to live, and I've a good few years in me yet, if I don't take the Well. I've lived eighteen of your lives, Tiaan, and learned a thing or two. You can't work all the hours of the day, and you can't cover up other failings by staying at your bench day and night. You have to live!'
'My mother mother used to say that.' used to say that.'