Ian Irvine - Chimaera

It proved a long climb up steep and narrow stairs. ‘I don’t see how we’re going to get half a million lyrinx up here,’ panted Nish as he rested halfway up.

‘The gate doesn’t have to open here,’ said Malien.

Tiaan was sitting on a glass chair in a room near the top of the tower. Unlike the lower sections, its walls were spiralling strips of black metal, like the metal of which constructs were made, whose spaces had been filled in with glass. The floor was made of metal crescents cunningly locked together. A table of woven wire supported a black metal cube. Tiaan’s head rested on her hands and she was staring intently at the cube.

‘Is that it ?’ said Nish. ‘Or is it a last joke by Vithis?’

Tiaan turned her head and stared right through him, as if she didn’t recognise him. Nish’s scalp prickled.

‘Vithis was not a joking man,’ said Malien.

‘There’s something inside,’ said Tiaan, clutching the amplimet in both hands. ‘I can see its aura, but I don’t know how to open the cube.’

‘There’s not much time,’ said Gilhaelith, peering out through the thick glass.

Nish went over beside him. The air was heavy with flying lyrinx. ‘Is that an air-floater, way up high?’

‘If it is, it’s bigger than the air-dreadnoughts that attacked Fiz Gorgo. I wonder what it’s up to? Orgestre could finish this by dropping boulders on us.’

‘Boulders,’ sniffed Nish.

Crash! The tower gave a gentle shudder.

‘Sometimes the simplest attacks are the most effective. That didn’t miss by much.’

‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘Go up in the thapter,’ said Tiaan. ‘Keep them away. I can’t think.’

‘Come on, Nish,’ said Malien. ‘We’ve got work to do.

‘The box doesn’t open,’ said Tiaan, as Nish and Malien clattered down the stairs. ‘Why?’

‘Perhaps it’s locked,’ said Irisis.

‘Of course it is. Vithis said so. And he gave Malien the key, that sapphire rod.’ Tiaan ran to the top of the stairs, shouting, ‘Malien. The key!’

Nish came running up with it. ‘Thank you,’ Tiaan said absently, already turning away. Then she swung back. ‘Nish?’

‘Yes?’

She put out her arms. ‘Good luck.’

They stopped halfway for a breather and Nish looked down through a slit in the stone. Lyrinx now clustered on every surface, wings folded. Others clung to the sides of the pinnacle and thousands more wheeled in the air. Far below, the water was flooding towards the lyrinx stragglers, still fifteen leagues away on the salt. Other lake lobes pressed towards the middle of the line, forcing the fleeing lyrinx further out into the Dry Sea. Water was pooling there in places, too.

As Nish and Malien ran through the broken door, their way was blocked by half a dozen lyrinx, Liett at their head. Her claws were fully extended.

‘I knew it was a lie,’ she spat. ‘Well, you won’t live to enjoy your revenge.’

‘The flood is not our doing,’ said Malien, putting her hands up.

‘You’ll die for it just the same,’ said Liett.

She sprang and, before Malien could do anything to defend herself, the claws went around her throat. Nish went for his sword, knowing it was hopeless, but it was knocked out of his hand.

‘This serves you not at all, Liett,’ Malien managed to croak.

She looked up and Liett followed her gaze. Another rock fell, smashing into the edge of the peak and spraying splinters of stone everywhere.

‘Those air-dreadnoughts rise higher than you can fly, Liett. One such missile, perfectly aimed, can destroy the tower and the port-all that creates the gate. And then we’ll all drown . You, me and all of your kind. But we can save you.’

At the word drown , Liett’s crest, the only part of her skin that had colour, shimmered with emerald green. She shuddered, then let Malien go. ‘After all that’s been done to us, I can’t bear to put my trust in humankind.’

‘I’m not humankind, Liett, I’m Aachim. My people have never waged war on lyrinx, and my record is inscribed in the pages of the Histories for all to read. Besides, it’s not necessary to trust, merely to gamble. Lyrinx are not averse to a wager, I’m told.’

It seemed to hit the right chord. ‘Everything in life is a gamble,’ said Liett, letting her go. ‘All right – go up in your flier. Already the water laps around my people’s ankles – I can sense their cries from here.’

Three air-dreadnoughts now wheeled high above the tower. ‘They’re armed with javelards,’ said Nish.

‘So are we,’ said Malien. ‘Get to your post.’

As soon as he was in the shooter’s position, Malien took the thapter straight up, relying on the lyrinx to get out of her path. The air-dreadnoughts were large, Nish saw, but had only a small crew, sacrificing everything to carry the greatest weight of stones and still rise beyond range of the lyrinx, whose claws could destroy an airbag in seconds.

Further off, two thapters cruised in circles, guarding the air-dreadnoughts. They turned towards him. Five against one – odds even Malien would be hard pressed to even.

‘I’ll go directly behind that one,’ she shouted over the wind, pointing at the nearest air-dreadnought.

Nish raised a hand, not sure he understood her strategy, but she was looking forward, intent on her course. His eyes were already watering. He wished he’d thought to bring goggles.

The thapter shot sideways. Had someone fired on them? Nish couldn’t tell. Malien whipped around in a circle and behind the air-dreadnought hovering over the tower. It dropped three rocks, one after another, as he fired his javelard at the rotors. He only had to hit one to disable the craft and felt sure he would, having done it before. Unfortunately the air-dreadnought rose suddenly as the weight was released, and his spear passed harmlessly below its keel.

Nish cursed and wound his cranks furiously. It took so long to reload. His eyes followed the rocks towards the tower. They seemed to be heading directly for it. He held his breath. One puff of dust rose beside the tower, and two more down the slope of the peak. Hitting the target must be harder than it looked.

The air-dreadnought moved off, though it was as slow as a tortoise compared to the thapter in Malien’s nimble hands. Nish took careful aim at the port rotor and pulled the lever. At this distance he couldn’t miss, and didn’t. The rotor shattered to splinters, some of which flew into the starboard rotor, destroying it as well. The pilot pulled the floater-gas release rope and the air-dreadnought dropped sharply away to the south.

Malien shot away, carving a wavy trail across the sky to avoid one of the thapters. Judging by the reckless skill with which it was being flown, Chissmoul was at the controller.

Nish felt a surge of pride at the prowess of his young pupil, until he realised that she was now an enemy trying to bring him down. He mechanically loaded another spear as he searched the sky.

The other air-dreadnoughts were hovering some distance away, waiting to see what happened. The thapters approached, one on either side, and Kattiloe was the other pilot. Nish had chosen them both, supervised their training and helped them through dozens of crises. He liked Kattiloe and Chissmoul. Moreover, for the past hundred and fifty years, women of childbearing age had been protected at all costs, for the survival of humanity. In a battle with another thapter, there was little to do but attack the pilot, but Nish wasn’t sure he could fire his javelard at a woman. Shooting Chissmoul or Kattiloe was unthinkable. He wondered if they felt the same. Probably not – men weren’t precious, especially not traitors like him. They would follow Orgestre’s orders and do their duty.