Fall of Angels by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Page B

looked down at the slight curves of the deep black metal. "It's beautiful."
    "Technology helps," Nylan admitted. "But I don't know if it will even work. It could break apart at the first blow."
    "I don't think it will." Ryba looked at him. "It looks like it will last forever."
    "It doesn't matter what it looks like. It's how it feels and lasts."
    She studied the blade again. "I need to teach you more about using blades. It would be a shame for someone who can create this not to be able to use it well."
    "You don't even know if it's right."
    Ryba's dark green eyes met his. "About some things, I can tell."
    Nylan shrugged.
    "How many of these can you make?"
    "Over time, enough for everyone, and probably a few more. I'd guess a little less than a two-percent charge on the bank for each. But I don't want to do that many until we've got enough stone for the tower."
    "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