Free The Twisting by Laurel Wanrow Page B

in operation?” Rivley asked.
    She shrugged. “That’s never running at night.”
    He jabbed his thumb southward. A shed where the growers kept a few spiders was just over the rise. “It’s time to find out.”
    Jac jerked her head the opposite direction. “I’ve got downed pests that need killing. Dae?”
    “Terrent and the new ’cambire won’t miss me. I’ll help Riv, and as soon as I escort him out of here, I’ll start my rounds.” Daeryn nudged him into a jog, muttering, “Believe it or not, Jac hasn’t taken a piece of our hides yet tonight, so make it quick.”
    A minute later they had one of the eight-legged machines out and traveling its fastest pace. “You see any?” Rivley called.
    He pointed. “Send it there. About twenty feet down.”
    Rivley turned the spider. The machine walked excruciatingly slowly toward the animal chewing at the base of a stalk. Fifteen feet, ten, then five. The gobbler didn’t even flinch. The spider passed it and kept going. The plant fell. The animal moved to the next.
    Daeryn yanked his arm and started trotting. “Send it by again, closer this time. Right over the damned pest.” He changed to guard Rivley while they ran an arc around the animal and re-aimed the machine. Eight feet, five. Surely the thing would spook. But no. The spider’s wide-legged stance straddled the row of potatoes and walked right over the gnawing animal.
    “Well, I’ll be damned.” Daeryn dropped to all fours, bounded forward and grabbed the gobbler as it turned tail.
    Rivley retrieved the machine and guided it back to the shed. Daeryn joined him, wiping his mouth on his forearm. “What next? Can you change this machine to harvest them?”
    “No, it’s too delicate to…to…that’s it!” He slapped his head, this time catching the goggles. “Why didn’t we think of it? The All-Sorts Harvester.” He righted his Luci-viewer.
    “It picks squash.” Daeryn glanced behind them and pulled Riv into a trot. “And cabbage, correct? I remember hearing they do something special to change it for different crops.”
    “It will harvest anything—” Rivley fairly shrieked. “Anything we put under its eyes.”
    “The machine’s got eyes?”
    “A type of them. The All-Sorts Harvester is the most sophisticated machine Master Brightwell has invented. His best.” They’d reached the edge of the field. Rivley whipped off the goggles and thrust them at Daeryn. “Can you grab me a couple of those dead beasts and bring them to the shop? I’ll need ones in good shape to reset the optics.”
    “Is that the only part you have to fix?”
    “The pincers. They’ll need a faster close on a moving target.” He nearly tripped in his excitement. “But will the spring hold a squirming animal?” Rivley ran off, so focused on his ideas that he forgot to say good-bye.
    Daeryn watched him for a moment. These machinery adjustments would take time. Time they didn’t have.
     

 
    chapter NINE
    Daeryn stumbled out of the changing hut the next morning and bumped into Jac.
    “Sorry,” both muttered, though Daeryn suspected Jac didn’t care who was at fault any more than he did. After a night of scores of pests and the constant click of Terrent’s trigger, he was tired and ready for bed. But he would say hello to Annmar.
    With the Luci-viewers and the eight stunners Master Brightwell and Rivley had built, their teams of ’cambires and two hardy growers had killed an average of two hundred pests each. The patrolling growers had gone in hours ago, but another shift came on before dawn. As the live vermin slunk off, the growers used Luci-viewers so they could see to collect the dead bodies. He’d passed a heaped cart while heading in.
    He followed the rest of the ’cambires into the main house and slumped into a chair one of the Pemberton girls pointed to. The spot was already set with a plate of food. He ate, gave Miz Gere his report and shook his head when one of Mary Clare’s sisters offered him