THIRTY

Jal-Nish drove them hard for what remained of the day and most of the night. The field was strong here but the country unknown, so they crept along under the light of a single flare. That was risky but Jal-Nish dared not stop. The clanker operators were issued with spicy nigah leaf, to keep them awake. The army sometimes used the drug to combat cold and fatigue. Everyone was on edge, knowing how vulnerable they were. Half a dozen lyrinx, attacking from the darkness, could slaughter them all.

Just after dawn, most of the way across a domed plateau, the hunt again came upon tracks in the snow.

‘It’s them!’ shouted one of the soldiers.

‘I can’t see anything.’ Gi-Had was up on the shooter’s platform, staring through a spyglass, when Nish and Irisis scrambled out.

Jal-Nish squatted to examine the smaller prints. ‘It’s Tiaan’s boot all right. I don’t understand it. It’s as if she’s going willingly.’

Arple inspected the evidence, stroking his scarred lip. ‘If you can tell that from a bootprint you’re a damn sight better tracker than I’ll ever be.’

‘She hasn’t run away!’ Jal-Nish said.

‘Would you run from a creature three times as big and twice as fast? If I were her, I’d do exactly as it told me.’

‘That’s why you’re a sergeant in the Tiksi garrison rather than a general at the front,’ Jal-Nish sneered.

Arple reared up before him. ‘Have you ever fought a lyrinx, perquisitor?’

‘No.’ Jal-Nish drew back.

‘Then shut up before you make a fool of yourself. You don’t know what you’re talking about, and if there’s one thing I despise it’s the ass that flaps his mouth from the safety of an armchair. I’ve seen hundreds of my boys dead at the hands of lyrinx, perquisitor. Dead and eaten! Better men than you’ll ever be, just fighting for their families and their country. Don’t talk to me about lyrinx. Don’t tell me my job. And don’t sneer at my courage until you’ve proven your own.’ He stalked away, head held high.

Gi-Had said quietly, ‘He may be only a sergeant, surr, but Arple’s been up north fighting lyrinx for fifteen years. He’s killed five of the beasts, two all by himself, and that makes him as tough a man as you’ll ever meet.’

The column moved off at a faster pace, following the marks in the snow. The soldiers had skis on now, since the way ahead was flat. Irisis chuckled.

‘What’s so funny?’ Nish asked.

‘It’s good to see someone get the better of your father. He’s such a hypocrite.’

Nish had enjoyed the sight too, though family loyalty would not allow him to show it. ‘It remains to be seen if Arple has got the better of him. My father is a ferocious enemy.’

Up the front, metal screamed and the machine shuddered to a stop. ‘That doesn’t sound good,’ said Irisis.

Nish got out. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked Pur-Did, who was squatting by the front leg.

‘Rod’s jammed, I’d say. You’ll have to pull it down.’

Nish cursed. It would be a hideous job in the freezing conditions and he would not be able to wear gloves.

Tuniz and Nish spent an hour and a half taking the leg apart. It proved the very devil of a job and when it was stripped down they could find nothing the matter with it. Tuniz sat back on her haunches, sucking a skinned knuckle. ‘Well, this is a puzzle,’ she grinned.

Nish repaid it with a scowl. ‘You’re awfully cheerful about it, senior artificer.’

‘Tuniz, please. I hate titles. Things generally go easier if you can have a laugh.’

Nish found that he liked working with her. ‘You’re from Crandor, aren’t you? How did you end up so far from home?’ She had been at the manufactory for nearly a year but he knew nothing about her.

‘Let’s put the leg back together, eh?’ She talked as she worked. ‘Yes, I’m from Roros, one of the biggest cities of Crandor. My man was an artificer with the navy. I hadn’t seen him in three years, and the children …’ She broke off, wrestling with a rod that did not want to go into its socket.

Nish steadied the mechanism. ‘How many children do you have?’

She bit her lip. ‘Two boys and a girl: seven, five and four years old. News came that my man was lost. His ship ran aground, down the coast from Tiksi. Then I heard he wasn’t lost, but captured by the enemy. The army wasn’t going to do anything, so I came after him.’

‘How did you get permission?’ Nish asked.

‘I … didn’t. I left the children with their grandparents and stowed away.’ Her brown eyes met his. ‘I was too late. My man had been eaten. I tried to get home, but with the war, and no papers …’ She paused. ‘I had to turn myself in, and this manufactory needed a senior artificer, so I was sent here.’

‘You must miss your children.’

‘I never stop thinking about them. Or my man.’ All the cheer was gone. ‘Let’s get this finished.’

The reassembled leg worked and they continued. Nish’s frozen hands had lost skin in a dozen places.

‘I hate being an artificer at times like this,’ he said to Irisis, just as his father walked by.

‘It might be different if you put a bit of effort into it,’ Jal-Nish said frigidly.

They kept on going, faster than before. As the clanker hit a bump, a gasp escaped from the injured Dhirr. His eyes fluttered open then closed. Irisis nudged Nish in the ribs. He looked around. ‘What?’

Ullii was staring at Dhirr, her back arched like a cat confronting a snake.

‘What is it, Ullii?’ said Nish.

She backed away from the injured man until her elbow struck the metal side of the clanker. Looking around wildly, she lifted the earmuffs and forced in her wax plugs. Taking the goggles off, she stared at Dhirr. With undue haste she put the mask on over the goggles and reached blindly for Nish’s hand. He put it in hers. She pressed it hard against her nose, which appeared to calm her.

The clanker pounded on, going fast down a gentle slope. The view out the front porthole was solid grey.

‘What’s the matter?’ Nish asked, lifting Ullii’s mask so she could read his lips.

She withdrew his hand but did not let go of it. ‘I can see his pain.’

‘See his pain?’ Irisis echoed.

‘A blood-red clot in my lattice, with hooks all over it. Digging, tearing hooks. I tried to help him but underneath the red was blinding yellow. It burned. He hates me!’ Her back began to arch again. ‘I just wanted to be kind to him,’ she said in the voice of Irisis.

‘Dhirr doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s in too much pain,’ Irisis said with rare insight. Then, softly to Nish, ‘Maybe he’s got a latent talent for the Secret Art. Many people do and never know it. Perhaps she probed too deep and his unconscious mind hit back in self-defence.’

The clanker stopped suddenly, throwing them forward. The soldier groaned. They got out to see what the matter was. This time Ullii leapt through the hatch as Nish was about to close it.

‘It’s the front leg,’ said Ky-Ara. ‘You’ll have to pull it down again.’

‘And this time do it properly,’ scowled Jal-Nish. ‘If the beast gets away because of your incompetence …’

‘Are you suggesting that I’m incompetent?’ said Tuniz, standing up tall and straight and showing her filed teeth. She towered over the perquisitor.

‘No,’ he said faintly.

They went through the whole tiresome business again, but could find no fault. ‘Would you check the controller, please, Irisis?’ said Tuniz.

‘It’s one of yours, isn’t it, Irisis?’ Nish said furiously, sucking his battered fingers.

The controller proved to be the problem and Irisis had it fixed within minutes. The constant shaking had disconnected one of the controller arms from its stub.

On they went, but had only been going a few minutes when the clanker drifted to a stop.

‘What now?’ screamed Jal-Nish from the next machine. The afternoon was waning.