Valley of Fires: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series) Read Online Free
Author: J. Barton Mitchell
honeycombed collection of platforms and scaffolding that surrounded what was left of an old power station, its dual brick smokestacks stretching into the air. Smoke vented from them, but these days it was from the forges and welding stations inside for fabricating and repairing the many Landships which passed through it every year.
She could feel the projections from the Assembly there, out of sight on the other side of the building.
Guardian, they projected. There is disagreement.
Now that was an understatement, Mira thought.
* * *
THE ARGUMENT WAS LOUD and volatile, but Mira’s attention was held by the Reflection Box. It lay near the entrance to the Forge, the machine shop inside the old power plant, a large, black box with two heavy doors, side by side, that served as its lid. It was painted in worn-out colors of red and green and gold leaf that twisted around its edges, a faded white rabbit on one end, holding a wand that shot sparks in an arc of old silver paint. Large, flamboyant letters spelled out a flowing script of words:
The Mysterious, Magnificent, MOLOTOV—Prepare for Amazement!
In the World Before it had been part of a magician’s repertoire, a magic case that did who knows what. Now, it was one of the most powerful major artifacts ever produced by the Strange Lands. More than that, it was integral to everything that was happening. Not just the Grand Bargain they made here, but the entire endeavor to save Zoey. She thought of Gideon, the former leader of the White Helix, how he had told her it would become important later, how he had bargained with Tiberius Marseilles and the Menagerie to attain it. He had been right, after all.
As she watched, a White Helix Adzer opened one of the box’s heavy doors. Another placed a green Antimatter crystal inside the open compartment lined with soft, red felt cushions, but unlike the crystals she had grown used to, this one was huge, maybe three feet in diameter. It was meant to be fired from the new Landship cannons, and it was the only reason the fragile agreement with the Wind Traders existed at all.
The Adzer shut the door of the box. A second passed, then it was as if the light around her dimmed … and the box flashed. A loud boom, like a thunderclap, shook the foundation of the old building. No one nearby even flinched. It was funny, Mira thought, what you could get used to.
The Adzers opened both lids of the box … and lifted out two identical, green Antimatter crystal shells. Mira smiled. The Reflection Box replicated anything put inside it, and the box allowed them to produce, at a rapid pace, what would normally have taken months or even years.
“Just give the word,” a tense, yet zealous voice stated.
Mira was in the Shipyard’s salvage repository, a giant junkyard of pieces and parts the Wind Traders constantly acquired in order to build their massive ships. Airplanes, cars and vans, construction equipment, passenger trains, semitrucks. There was a lumberyard too, full of planks of all kinds of wood, and it was smoking from a fire that had engulfed it. There were no flames now, but the damage was apparent, and it looked like something had exploded. To make matters worse, lying in front of it was the crippled, unmoving form of a large Assembly Brute, one of the five-legged, shielded-ramming machines, the same kind Ambassador inhabited.
In front of her was a large, angry gathering. Wind Trader engineers stood between two other groups that couldn’t have been more different. About a dozen White Helix, dressed in their usual patterns of black and gray, utility belts crisscrossing their torsos. Their Lancets were loose and some of them had their masks pulled up. It was a bad sign, it meant they were ready to fight.
In the empty grass behind the junkyard, the Assembly encampment sat. There were no tents or buildings, of course, just the walkers and an array of Osprey dropships. There were four-legged Mantises and giant, towering,
She could feel the projections from the Assembly there, out of sight on the other side of the building.
Guardian, they projected. There is disagreement.
Now that was an understatement, Mira thought.
* * *
THE ARGUMENT WAS LOUD and volatile, but Mira’s attention was held by the Reflection Box. It lay near the entrance to the Forge, the machine shop inside the old power plant, a large, black box with two heavy doors, side by side, that served as its lid. It was painted in worn-out colors of red and green and gold leaf that twisted around its edges, a faded white rabbit on one end, holding a wand that shot sparks in an arc of old silver paint. Large, flamboyant letters spelled out a flowing script of words:
The Mysterious, Magnificent, MOLOTOV—Prepare for Amazement!
In the World Before it had been part of a magician’s repertoire, a magic case that did who knows what. Now, it was one of the most powerful major artifacts ever produced by the Strange Lands. More than that, it was integral to everything that was happening. Not just the Grand Bargain they made here, but the entire endeavor to save Zoey. She thought of Gideon, the former leader of the White Helix, how he had told her it would become important later, how he had bargained with Tiberius Marseilles and the Menagerie to attain it. He had been right, after all.
As she watched, a White Helix Adzer opened one of the box’s heavy doors. Another placed a green Antimatter crystal inside the open compartment lined with soft, red felt cushions, but unlike the crystals she had grown used to, this one was huge, maybe three feet in diameter. It was meant to be fired from the new Landship cannons, and it was the only reason the fragile agreement with the Wind Traders existed at all.
The Adzer shut the door of the box. A second passed, then it was as if the light around her dimmed … and the box flashed. A loud boom, like a thunderclap, shook the foundation of the old building. No one nearby even flinched. It was funny, Mira thought, what you could get used to.
The Adzers opened both lids of the box … and lifted out two identical, green Antimatter crystal shells. Mira smiled. The Reflection Box replicated anything put inside it, and the box allowed them to produce, at a rapid pace, what would normally have taken months or even years.
“Just give the word,” a tense, yet zealous voice stated.
Mira was in the Shipyard’s salvage repository, a giant junkyard of pieces and parts the Wind Traders constantly acquired in order to build their massive ships. Airplanes, cars and vans, construction equipment, passenger trains, semitrucks. There was a lumberyard too, full of planks of all kinds of wood, and it was smoking from a fire that had engulfed it. There were no flames now, but the damage was apparent, and it looked like something had exploded. To make matters worse, lying in front of it was the crippled, unmoving form of a large Assembly Brute, one of the five-legged, shielded-ramming machines, the same kind Ambassador inhabited.
In front of her was a large, angry gathering. Wind Trader engineers stood between two other groups that couldn’t have been more different. About a dozen White Helix, dressed in their usual patterns of black and gray, utility belts crisscrossing their torsos. Their Lancets were loose and some of them had their masks pulled up. It was a bad sign, it meant they were ready to fight.
In the empty grass behind the junkyard, the Assembly encampment sat. There were no tents or buildings, of course, just the walkers and an array of Osprey dropships. There were four-legged Mantises and giant, towering,