Read The Echolone Mine Online

Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #dark fantasy, #time travel, #shamanism, #swords and sorcery, #realm travel

The Echolone Mine (22 page)

Tristan
interrupted. “Never mind what Lax needs. Tell us why mining on
Echolone is a good thing for Echolone.”

Shimi threw
his hands in the air. “Jobs? Money? Technology … there are many
advantages.”

“You would
share money and technology, when Lax has none?” Tristan said.
“Spare us, please. But, for the sake of argument, let us say you
do, for some of your friends there do have resources, how would you
equitably ensure the people of Echolone share in the wealth you
haul up?”

“They would be
well paid for their work, my lord. We would institute training and
build new homes, bring in technology to boost Echolone forward. As
I said, there are advantages.”

“And the gold,
the diamonds? Would they share in that wealth?” Caballa asked.

“We would have
contracts,” Shimi said. “A percentage will return to Echolone.”

A villager
muttered, “Never happen.”

“Echolone is
poor, like Lax is poor, and we would both benefit from the mines.
There would be new infrastructure, new goods and services, tourism,
and many other spin-offs.”

“Echolone is
not poor!” an irate villager shouted. “We have different values,
and you have no right to dictate to us!”

Shimi ignored
that. “Business of this magnitude is about give and take. We bring
the experts, the equipment, the money. Both do the work and both
get paid in the end. I do not see the problem.”

Allith opened
her mouth, but Torrullin said, “Not yet. Shimi, do you have more to
add?”

The Laxian
shook his head.

“Allith?”

“The problem
is that you do not own this land. I hear you about jobs, but know
every man, woman and child here already has work according to his
or her talents. I hear you about money, but know on Echolone
bartering of produce, craft, expertise and service serves us well.
Money is a piece of paper or a coin and we can do little with it.
As for technology, we have what we need. Anything you bring in will
simply pollute our world …”

The greeners
shouted acclaim.

“… and
further, we do not trust the minerals removed to be sold elsewhere
will bring back dividends. We do not require infrastructure, for we
are happy with what we have. New goods? We have abundance, so hold
your goods. Take them where they are needed - to Lax, maybe.”

Laughter from
the Echolone section.

“My point is
this, had we been as poor as you describe, you may have a case. As
we are not, and as we do own this land you seek to destroy, we
formally decline offers you would make.”

Loud cheering
from both the environmentalists and the villagers.

Torrullin
pointed to Tether.

The
environmentalist nodded and began to speak.

“Thank you for
this opportunity. Echolone is a beautiful world, untouched by greed
until men and their machines came looking for wealth. In itself, we
admit, the search for wealth is not a bad thing, but it is progress
only when such wealth is properly shared. The issue here, however,
is not wealth, but damage to the land. Mining, by definition, is
delving, blasting, scraping, digging and removing. Not only are
mountains hollowed out, but giant holes are dug, and every rock and
grain of sand must be dumped somewhere. These are huge scars on a
landscape.

“More than
aesthetics, is the destruction of habitat, and not merely human.
Insects, rodents, birds, reptiles and mammals lose their homes. If
they are not murdered in the delving, they slink away in fear to
die somewhere else, and that is a crime, my friends.” She pointed
at the miners. “You may promise to close your holes and beautify
your dumps, but nothing can restore the delicate balance of nature
or return those dead little creatures to life. You must be
stopped.” She smiled up at Torrullin. “That is all.”

“Well said,”
Torrullin said, and the greeners went wild again.

“Who will stop
us?” a miner shouted. “Where is Echolone’s army?”

“You indict
your kind with those words,” Torrullin said. “The Kaval is
Echolone’s army! If you seek a peaceful solution, ask it in peace
or feel my boot in your arse!”

Great gusts of
laughter shook the field.

Torrullin
looked down. “Jackson Class, the field is yours.”

The Beaconite
stepped onto the platform and faced the Echolone gathering. The
shamans stared back stonily.

“My friends,
please, let us hear each other before final choices are made. I
admit to you we were hasty in our manner of arrival. We should have
thrashed these details out before the first machine was switched on
and I apologise for my colleagues and myself. At this point I
realise pretty words are useless, so let us be real.

“Mining can be
a project with minimal impact, if properly surveyed. A site, once
identified, can be humanely cleared of wildlife, removing them to
new, similar habitats. Trees and shrubs can be replanted elsewhere
and water sources can be protected. Rubble could be deployed as
contour walls, used for dams and roads, even houses. From an
environment point, we could have little impact, with fair yields
also.

“As far as
wealth goes, formal, unassailable contracts could be drawn up and
we could work at every detail until all parties are satisfied
before signing. Under such conditions dividends would return to
Echolone, for the projects will be long term, and one does not stab
a provider in the back.

“There would
be jobs and we will give our word no foreigners other than mining
experts will be brought in to do the work. Infrastructure and goods
will be come in only as need requires and, again, all parties would
agree before it is done. Now, I do understand mistakes have been
made, but we promise to rectify those before negotiating anew for
the future.”

He had full
attention, for his reasonable tone spoke well to reasonable
people.

“Beacon has a
reputation as exploiters and it is admittedly earned, but Beacon
has also learned valuable lessons, largely because the Kaval kicked
our butts on numerous occasions …”

General
laughter.

“… we would
not do that here, this I swear, and I do so before Elixir himself.
However, and this is probably the most important point I am to make
to you, mining with little impact and great yield is long term and
must be achieved with patience and dedicated effort from every
party involved. It takes money, friends, to do it that way, big
money.

“If you must
kick the miners out, kick out those who will use you and not care,
but if you hear me when I say it can be beneficial for all of us,
choose those who will sign on a line promising to mine in a manner
we can live with. Yes, I mean Beacon, for we have both the money
and the patience, and you, friends, have the land. We could, I
believe, deal.”

There was
uproar and Shimi shouted his disgust at Jack. The greeners booed,
the miners shouted accusation and the villagers were torn. Some
were thoughtful and others loudly denied everything.

Torrullin let
it go on and then approached Jack. “Will you do as your words
imply?”

Jack nodded.
“I swear it. Beacon has lost much due to over-exploitation.
Resources that could have lasted years if properly managed were
used up in months, and destitution left in our wake. We realise we
cannot do so, for soon nothing will remain. Beacon will fail
without long term solutions.”

“I hear you,”
Torrullin said. “I am not giving you carte blanche, but I will get
you a hearing after this mess is cleaned up. Know you may spend
money on clean up and still be turned away.”

Jack bowed.
“Every investment has risk. We accept that.”

Meredith and
Allith had approached and overheard. The two looked at each
other.

Then Torrullin
lifted a hand for quiet. It was slower in coming this time.

“Meredith will
now speak for Echolone.”

She stepped
forward, shook Jack’s hand and asked him to leave the platform. “I
never thought I would shake the hand of a miner.”

There was some
laughter.

“Until this
man spoke, I was willing to deny all rights. I still don’t like the
idea, but I’m willing to talk …”

Cheering now
from the miners.

“But we will
talk only to those who have the money and patience as Mr Class
suggests, and we will talk only after every mine currently in
operation is closed and all scars covered. When you have taken your
machines and dynamite away, then we begin. And at every meet there
will be a greener whose sole purpose is to protect Echolone’s
natural creatures, and every tree, bush and flower. You mess with a
flower and you are not welcome.”

The greeners
went wild again.

“However, none
of this will happen unless you and I both know we have the support
of an army.”

“What?” Allith
blurted.

Meredith
smiled at her and then faced forward again. “On behalf of all here
who wish to protect Echolone, I formally request from the Kaval the
support that will see every promise kept.”

Huge cheering
erupted across the field, with only miners downcast. Most of them
were going home poorer, and they knew it now.

Tristan
stepped forward. “The Kaval pledges absolute support!”

Again, wild
cheering.

Torrullin
grinned down at Lothin, who said with a smile, “I don’t need to add
my voice, I think. The environment is safe.”

Torrullin
reached down to shake his hand, and the young man accepted the
clasp.

Jackson Class
was a hero among his cronies and an enemy to others. Shimi walked
muttering from the field. Tristan watched him go and murmured to
Quilla, who nodded.

No doubt,
Shimi of Lax would find himself the centre of attention again
before long.

Chapter
18

 

It isn’t
always wise to drag others into a foolhardy scheme.

Tattle’s
scribe

 

 

Two Fork
Tree

 

T
he gathering outside Masif’s home was loud and
drunken and filled with congratulations, laughter and a huge
measure of relief.

Tristan and
Caballa huddled together, laughing and whispering, and Allith and
Meredith entertained Declan and Quilla.

Torrullin was
in discussion with Jackson Class and two other Beaconites, while
the shamans and many villagers danced and stamped walking
sticks.

Food and drink
flowed freely, with Lothin and Tether expounding on the natural
elements in the drink. Those two would fall over soon.

It was getting
dark and lanterns were lit, with fires soon after. The gathering
grew into a crowd and it was a celebration. In the background
disgruntled miners headed out to the skies in their shuttles, never
to return.

At one stage
Torrullin used magic to conjure kegs of cider and ale, and the
laughter flowed apace with the liquid.

Into that
revelry came Elianas.

He stood in
the flickering shadows of a tree, watching.

Obviously the
meeting went well, but he had not doubted it. Torrullin used
balance to achieve balance. As expected. The man himself, he noted,
danced and weaved in and out among circles of other dancers.
Declan, the Siric, with two red spots on his cheeks, danced
also.

So, the Kaval
put in an appearance. That would have helped.

He saw Tristan
embrace Caballa, the two dancing to a personal rhythm away from
stamping feet and high velocity twirls. Quilla bent the ear of a
group of shamans. Trust the birdman to use even a celebration to
learn something new. It was part of his charm.

Everyone had
too much to drink, especially Torrullin. Drowning sorrows? He
watched the man dance - a good dancer, therefore a great
swordsman.

He thought he
was unobtrusive, hidden even, but silver eyes found him anyway,
hectic activity notwithstanding.

I feel you,
Elianas.

They rarely
spoke via mind sending, for both were aware hidden thoughts could
change everything. Elianas thus sucked at his teeth in surprise
before replying.

I know.

The brief
communication set his blood to coursing. Perhaps because it was so
rare.

Torrullin
twirled out and sauntered over, walking unevenly.

“A few too
many?” Elianas smiled.

“A lot too
many,” Torrullin laughed. “Join us.”

“I am not in
the mood, and you won’t be soon. I have news.”

“Damn it,
now?”

“Sorry. Come,
get air.”

The two walked
away from the party, heading into the now deserted field. The
platform still stood and they headed towards it. The moon was full,
washing field and platform in silver light. A silver eye.

Elianas looked
up. “Akhavar’s moon was more yellow.” Yes, mundane enough for
control.

“Valaris is
blue … shit, here goes …” Torrullin doubled over and threw up.

Elianas stood
by, patient. Torrullin was not on the same wavelength. He conjured
a flask of water, passed it over.

Torrullin
gargled, spat and then drank deeply. They walked on, climbed onto
the platform, and sat.

“News?”
Torrullin prompted.

Elianas
nodded. “I went to track the state of balance. It will be peaceful,
largely because of the Kaval’s continuing influence.”

Tracking
balance had seemed intricate enough to keep his mind occupied, but
he discovered important nuances nonetheless.

“Good
news.”

“For now,
agreed. We have some guiltless time at our disposal.”

“But?”

“Those worlds
where peace has reigned long already show signs of stagnation. It
would be better for them had they discovered peace only now.”

Torrullin
rubbed his chin. “Example?”

“Ceta, for
one. Despite an angel in a forest, which the Lady of Life mended,
they invent nothing new and exports have fallen off. Folk talk
about rest and relaxation, how wonderful life is, but within a year
or two they will be in trouble financially. Thereafter it will get
worse, for aid will not come. Other balanced worlds will not see
the necessity of the labour involved in taking it to them.”

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