L. Modesitt - The Chaos Balance

“The Old Rationalists weren’t stupid,” Ayrlyn pointed out. “They planoformed scores of planets successfully. This place didn’t even need planoforming, not if the forest were already here.”

“This isn’t just a different place,” Nylan pointed out. “It’s a different universe. Fusactors don’t work here-”

“How did they get the power to transform the land, then?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “They use more of a laser-based technology…always have. Maybe some forms of laser fusion work-or they did.”

“Wadah, pease,” interrupted Weryl.

“I know. I promised.” The smith eased out the water bottle and uncorked it, lurching in the saddle as the mare crossed one of the former irrigation ditches. He held the bottle as his son drank.

“Let’s get back to your point,” said Ayrlyn. “There’s a basic instability surrounding the forest, but not in the forest itself. Why would the Old Rats do that? They knew better. They had to.”

“Power, maybe. We’ve seen the power the forest has, and it’s only a fraction of its former size.” Nylan reclaimed the water bottle and recorked it.

“That means…do you think that the Old Rats actually set up a power imbalance as a power/energy source for the white mages?”

Nylan nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. They’re experienced planoformers, but their conventional power sources failed-or were failing.”

“Surely…they had to know it couldn’t last forever.”

“They probably did-but what’s better? Something that works for centuries-or longer-with the hope that their descendants can work out something? Or condemning themselves and their immediate children to true barbarian or low-tech lives?” He gestured toward the south. “Cyador is the most advantaged and cultured civilization we’ve seen.”

“Advantaged…that I’ll accept. Given the way they treat women-”

“Wouldn’t it have been worse if they’d lapsed into low-tech?”

“That’s too theoretical, worse than engineering speculations.” Ayrlyn cleared her throat. “You’re going to use that force?”

“If I can.”

“If we can,” corrected Ayrlyn.

The smith laughed, less harshly. “I stand corrected…as always. If we can…and we can. I just don’t know how yet.”

“Harnessing that power won’t be as hard as surviving it,” predicted Ayrlyn. “Especially in one piece.”

Nylan feared her assessments were all too correct.

Ayrlyn reined up beside the shed and glanced toward the rear door of the house. As she looked, Sylenia appeared.

“You were not gone that long.”

“You didn’t want us to go at all,” Nylan said.

“If one must do something…”

The smith glanced helplessly at Ayrlyn. While a glimmer of a smile flitted around her lips, she remained silent.

“We probably need to get moving tomorrow,” Nylan said as he dismounted and turned to Weryl.

Ayrlyn pursed her lips.

“Will we learn any more by staying?”

“Probably.” The redhead slipped lightly from the saddle.

“Will we learn it fast enough?”

The redhead frowned. “Probably not…but…”

“I know. It’s risky…everything’s risky.” But do we have a choice? And we did give our word, and…

Ayrlyn nodded sadly …and there’s a tie between keeping a promise and order…

“Unfortunately.”

Sylenia cleared her throat, loudly. Both angels turned to her.

“I have made all the bread we can carry, and dried beans, and even some wasol roots. They were in the garden.” Sylenia beamed. “Much better than cheese and biscuits.”

Nylan would have been surer about their travel fare before she mentioned wasol roots, whatever they were.

In the darkness, Nylan slipped out past the bushes and downhill, stopping only after he crossed the first dry irrigation ditch.

What did he have in mind?

Did he really know, except that he somehow needed to raise and channel the power of or in or from the forest? Ayrlyn’s comments about not knowing enough had worried at him, and worried. Yet he knew that the Cyadoran hordes were about to descend on Lornth-if they hadn’t already, and there was a time to act whether they had enough knowledge or not. Somehow, someway, they had to raise the power of the forest, or a power like that of the forest, in Lornth, against the Cyadoran hordes. And he didn’t have any ideas, except in a general sense. Too general.

He took a deep breath, drawing the mixed fragrances that held the hint of reisera and others he could not have named.

Slowly, slowly, he opened himself to the pulse of the forest, of the order and chaos, of the flows, so similar to those between the poles of a fusactor, except the flows were a construct of the power differentials…

No! Get back to the basics .

Power…order to hold chaos.

Not to hold…to guide…always in balance…

The sweat popped out on his forehead, despite the cool breeze out of the east.

Guide…balance…

Rather than reach, he tried to open himself to that power, visualizing himself as a conduit, a circuit, insulated by order.

He staggered under the impact of the twin flows-darkness and the crushing might of chaos welling from the hot magma far beneath Candar, chaos hot enough to melt even ship alloys, with enough free electrons, unstable quarks, leptons…the terms swirled through his thoughts, but the energy was real.

Around him light grew-from a glow to a glare, so much of a glare that he closed his eyes, and yet the not-quite-cold light turned the area around the house into nearly day.

…heat…but not too much…

Despite his efforts to hold off the heat, he could feel it building, feeling the surges of power.

…careful…

The ground beneath him trembled, ever so slightly, but insistently, as though the chaos beneath wished to obliterate that thin barrier laid between the surface and the depths so many generations earlier by the Old Rats.

…not now…later…when we get to Lornth…

Slowly, he eased the flows away, letting them subside.

His breath was ragged, and his heart pounded so hard that he felt the sleepers inside the house could have heard it.

For a time he stood, gasping, just trying to get his body back under control.

Then he turned toward the house.

“Very impressive.” Ayrlyn sat on the patch of grass remaining in front of the bushes. “I’m glad I understand you. Someone else might not have taken it well. They might have thought you were out to get the power for yourself.”

“I never-”

“I know. You were afraid it wouldn’t work. Or that I’d get hurt. Like all good engineers, you wanted to test your idea with no one around in case it went wrong, and, as usual, you didn’t want to worry me. So…all I knew is that you were worried, and I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You are so dense…sometimes. Don’t you understand?” Nylan…don’t shut me out…please…

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure how it would work.” He put his arms around her. Didn’t want you hurt…if it didn’t…

“It will work. You could have asked me.”

“It’s such a change. I forget, still.” He shivered, feeling weak. He released Ayrlyn and sat on the grass.

“Try not to.” Or I’ll do…something dreadful! Long before we ever get back to Lornth! She sat beside him.

The engineer blushed at her unspoken comment.

“In fact…” I’m going to do something dreadful right now . Her lips were upon his before he could speak again, and she pushed him back on the grass. While you’re too weak to resist… Her hands were at his waistband. And if anyone hears…you get to explain….