Fall of Angels (The Saga of Recluce #6)(28)

"We need both."

"It will take more than half a season with the portable generator to fully charge a whole bank of cells. We've gone through nearly three banks, and that only leaves one that's completely full. We'll probably have the first recharged before we finish the tower. I haven't done the math, but I could probably forge ten blades on a depleted bank if I recharged two cells. But I need a base load of twenty percent for stone-cutting."

"You've got piles of cut stone here," pointed out Ryba.

"It's not enough." He shrugged. "Right now, the mortar's the problem, but I think I've got that set."

"That's a terrible pun."

"Didn't mean it that way."

The former captain looked at the smooth and sheer black stone wall that rose nearly twice her height, then at the square door frame whose base stood nearly her height above the visible base of the tower. "You're building a demon-damned monument."

"Why are you letting me? Could it be that I'm right?"

Ryba laughed. "The others look at this, and they all see that it can be done, and that we're here to stay. Nothing I say is as effective as your killing yourself. They all see how you drive yourself. But is everything that you've planned really necessary?"

Nylan pointed to Freyja-the ice-needle peak that towered above the unfinished tower, above the other mountains. "You can tell from the ice on those peaks that the winter is as cold, if not colder, than northern Sybra. Also, a tower isn't enough. We need stables, and next year, we'll need more storehouses, and workrooms for all the crafts we'll need to develop, and we'll have to defend them all. I'll end up cannibalizing the landers for metal and everything else, because that's easier than trying to develop iron-working from scratch or than trading for it. Once we run through the plunder, what can we use to buy goods? Or food? I certainly haven't seen traders galloping to find us. Also, there's going to be a gap between when we lose all high technology and when we can master lower technology."

Ryba looked at the blade. "What gap?"

"It would take me days to forge a blade like that with coal or charcoal and hammers. Maybe longer, and that's if I knew what to do. That's if I had an anvil, if I could find iron ore, if. . ." He snorted. "How long will the emergency generator and the charging system last? Maybe a local year... and it might quit in the next eight-day."

"Then you'd better do at least a few blades, and others, as you can fit them in. We're going to need them. I hope not soon, but we will."

Nylan wiped his forehead. "I'll try to balance things. Has anyone heard anything about this so-called bandit trader? Can't we get something from him? Big cook pots, even cutlery?"

"I'm working on a list. What do you think we really need?"

"Some heavy cloth, wool maybe, and something like scissors, to cut it, thread and needles. We're not equipped for winter. There were-what?-two cold-weather suits in the paks? Any dried or stored food we can buy. What about something like chickens ... for eggs? The concentrates might last until mid-winter. Salt. Some of that stuff Gerlich kills could be dried and salted. Oh ... I need to figure out how . .. never mind . .."

"What?"

"I'll use the laser to glaze it. That will make cleaning it easy."

"What?" repeated Ryba.

"The water reservoir, cistern, whatever you want to call it. I'd like it to be on the second level in the center, but I don't know if I can work that. I still haven't quite figured out piping or a reservoir near the head of the spring. We'll run hidden piping, like a siphon, so we can have some continuous water flow in winter or if we get besieged ..."

"You are a pessimist."

"A realist."

"Probably," she admitted. "What if the laser goes?"

"There are two spare powerheads and a spare cable. I can use the weapons head, if I have to, but the power loss is enormous, and that might not work at all. If it goes now, we do it the hard way, and not nearly so well, and people die. If it lasts into winter, then I should have the basics done"

"Dreamer."

Nylan grinned ruefully.

"Go get something to eat." Ryba motioned to Istril, who had edged down the rocks, and who hurried up in response to Ryba's preemptory gesture. "Istril . . . would you watch this equipment while the engineer eats? Don't touch it, and don't let anyone else, either." Ryba pointed to the blade that Nylan had used as a guide. "Use that if you have to."

"Yes, ser." Istril's eyes flickered to the.black blade on the stone. "You made ... that.. . ser?"

"I tried," conceded Nylan.

"It's beautiful... sometime ... could you forge me one?"

"Istril should get one of the first ones."

Nylan sighed and nodded at the slight silver-haired marine. "It's cool now. Pick it up and see if it's half as good as it looks."

"You mean it?"

Ryba and Nylan nodded.

Istril touched the hilt-designed to be wrapped in leather-and slowly lifted the blade. She stepped back and lowered it, then smiled.

"Is it tough enough?" Nylan asked. "Bend it or something."

Ryba lifted her blade. "Just blade to blade."