Imager’s Battalion

towers.

Quaeryt looked across the river at the gallery area of the north tower, where he could see three men in blue-gray Bovarian uniforms. While it wouldn’t be difficult to send another boat across the river, although it would have to start much farther upstream and carry light line that could lead to rope and then cable, there wasn’t any point in trying so long as the Bovarians held Rivecote Nord. And that was assuming that there were spare cables available in Rivecote Sud.

“Effective, but less impressive than I’d pictured,” he finally replied to Skarpa’s question.

“Effective is what matters.”

Quaeryt couldn’t disagree with that.

A Telaryn captain, an engineer, hurried toward them, then stopped and inclined his head. “Commander, Subcommander.”

“Have you found the spare cables?” asked Skarpa.

“There are several sets, sir, but…”

“There’s no point in trying to reattach them until we hold both towers? Or is there another problem?”

“Someone smashed the gears in the winch. We haven’t been able to find any spare gears. We can rig a way to use the capstan once we can reattach new cables, but it will be slower.”

“Do that for now,” said Skarpa. “They might have spare gears on the other side.”

Or the Bovarians might end up smashing the winches on both sides. Quaeryt frowned. “Could I take a look at the winch?”

“Yes, sir. Now?”

“Why not?”

“This way, sir.”

Quaeryt followed the engineer down the staircase he’d just climbed, across the courtyard to a small gate, and then down another narrow set of stone steps cut into the bluff leading to the ferry slips. The winch was located on the wide center wharf between the two slips.

There the engineer pointed to the uncovered mechanism. “Looks like they smashed those three gears there. Be a bitch to replace them, even if we can find spares.”

Quaeryt studied the winch’s workings for several moments. “The imagers might be able to help. If you could send someone to summon them … they’re all at the inn-the Grande Sud.”

“Yes, sir. We can do that.” The engineer captain hurried off.

While Quaeryt waited for the imagers to arrive, he studied the winch in greater detail, slowly imaging away a loose chunk of gearing in one place and then in another, just enough to see if he could do it. Then he concentrated on rebuilding just one gear tooth on a large gear.

It appeared … and it looked solid, but was it? He waited half a quint before he tapped it with a mallet from a tool kit. It sounded solid, but again, the proof would be in the operation.

After that, he walked back and forth along the slips, waiting.

It took almost three quints for the rankers Quaeryt sent out to locate and return with all the imager undercaptains. All of them had puzzled expressions as, one by one, they joined Quaeryt on the wharf. He waited to explain until they were all there before the damaged winch.

“The reason I summoned you is that we have a problem here. The Bovarian troopers, or the cable ferry operators, smashed this winch. You can see the damaged gears there. It would be most helpful to Lord Bhayar and his forces if we could get this winch in working condition again so that once Marshal Deucalon takes Rivecote Nord, we can get the ferry operating as quickly as possible. We need to accomplish two things. First, we need to remove the broken pieces of gears. Then we need to image the gears as if they were new.”

Quaeryt looked over the undercaptains. “Has anyone had any experience imaging parts of things?”

“Ah … I have,” said Baelthm, “but much, much smaller parts, no bigger than a finger.”

“Anyone else?”

No one spoke.

“All right, the first thing we need to do is to image out the broken pieces, one at a time. Threkhyl, you’re first. Do you see that chunk of iron gearing there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’d like you to remove it, image it away. Just it. Nothing else.”

The ginger-bearded undercaptain concentrated, and in a moment the broken gear section was gone.

“Good. Voltyr, this other piece…”

It took almost a quint and two efforts by each undercaptain to remove the broken metal, and Quaeryt had to give a little hidden assistance to Baelthm.

“Now … the next part is harder. The gears are iron, and we need to replace the broken teeth, and they have to meld with the others…”

Imaging the sections of gears back in place took almost two glasses, and left all the imagers exhausted, because Quaeryt was effectively making them match gears by eye and that required both imaging and un-imaging and smoothing … and doing some of them over two and three times. More than a few times, he ended up doing some of the work, although it appeared that none of the undercaptains noticed.

Finally, Quaeryt motioned to the engineer captain, who had been watching from a distance. The captain walked swiftly toward him, then halted a yard away.

“Captain, while it appears as though we may have fixed this winch, I honestly cannot tell if the repairs the imagers have made will stand the strain of operation. Can you turn it without any load just to see if the gears mesh properly? And do so very slowly?”

“We can, sir.”

Once again, Quaeryt waited, as did the imagers.

Everything about war is a flurry of action, then a lot of waiting, or slow traveling, followed by action, and more waiting. At least, that was the impression he’d gotten in the Tilboran Revolt, and the war against Bovaria looked to be following the same pattern.

Finally, a crew of rankers appeared and took the capstan bars, rather than the ox, which also appeared to be missing, but then the engineers might have removed the animal to work on the equipment.

“Forward, slowly…” called the captain. “So far … so good.”

“A little faster, now…”

After a time the engineer called out, “Stop … that will do.” He turned to Quaeryt. “It seems to work. Thank you, sir … imagers.”

“This isn’t something we normally do,” Quaeryt said. “We just hope the repairs will hold.”

“Well … you cleaned out all the smashed pieces, and that alone was a help.”

Quaeryt turned to the undercaptains. “Thank you. Now, you can return to the inn, or you can walk through the town, but you need to do so in pairs. We’ll meet at the inn a quint before mess … dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

Desyrk and Baelthm were the first to leave, followed by Akoryt and Threkhyl. Voltyr and Shaelyt remained, then eased toward Quaeryt as he headed to the stone steps up to the tower.

“Sir…?” offered Voltyr.

“Yes…?”

“The winch … how did you know…?”

“All that iron,” added Shaelyt.

Quaeryt smiled. “I didn’t, not for certain, but there are winches and capstans on every merchant ship, and I spent six years at sea. This wasn’t that different. It’s a bit heavier and simpler, that’s all.”

“Sir … it seemed like-”

“It was a great deal of work for all of you, but the engineers appreciate it, and so do I, a great deal, and I think it probably improved all of your imaging skills and controls. Don’t you?” Quaeryt smiled warmly.

Voltyr looked to Shaelyt.

The Pharsi nodded, then smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll see you both later at the inn.”

“Yes, sir.”

The pair nodded respectfully, then stepped back and turned.