Kingdom of Stars (The Young Ancients: Timon Book Three) (20 page)

"Judy." He wanted to explain what he'd been doing,
but she moved in and hugged him, which had more of an air of someone trying to
keep another from falling down, at first. His face hit her right in the chest,
which made him blink. She was a lot taller than he was still, but his growth
made a difference.

He must have been five-seven or eight already.

"Tim! You look like death left out in the rain. What in
the seven hells have you been doing? I'd heard you were working, but this isn't
normal." She frowned at him, but didn't take him to task past that one
line.

She just held him instead, right there in the hallway. She
was tall, and that should have made him think of Nora, but he didn't. Instead
he let his arms wrap around her for a bit and then stood back, noticing that he
really was unsteady.

"I... built..." It was so hard to explain it all
really, what it did. What it would really do. "It's a kind of shield,
really. For the whole world. It only works against one thing, but that's a
dangerous weapon that the others, the bad Ancients and their clones,
have."

Two things happened then. The first was that she didn't ask
him what a clone was, which was telling, since in Noram that wasn't a subject
covered in school really. She'd been around the idea though, and had clearly
picked it up. The second was what she'd said.

"The Sunset Fire?"

Timon went silent for a bit, "Um, micro-plasma?"

She grunted, her voice low and angry sounding.

"That's the name. We all call it Sunset Fire. Near on a
month back they used it on Austra. They took nearly a half million lives with
it. It's part of why we have so many bodies here now. A lot's changed in the
last days. You should talk to someone about it. I can fill you in some, but you
have better sources than I do. If you can help with that though, well..."

Then, without asking, or telling him what was happening, she
kissed him. It wasn't a peck on the cheek either, but held a bit of lust that
he hadn't expected from her really. He wasn't all that old and she wasn't
either, but she had four years on him, at least.

When she stopped, she didn't blush or say anything about it,
just taking him by the hand.

"Come on."

Where they were going he didn't know, but it was happening
at a brisk walk, which was a bit faster than he could comfortably go at the
moment, his legs feeling a bit heavy still from disuse. It was probably good exercise
though. He figured on a trip to the mess hall, which was what they called the
dining room on the ship. Or possibly the shower, or maybe, given the warmth of
the kiss he'd gotten, her taking him off to her bed chamber. That was just
possible he knew, since he was a bit out of it and she was a noble woman.

They ended up on the bridge however, and walked to the right
hand side where there were three different kinds of communications devices set
up. Two were normal enough, a regular communications device, like his own and
an Austran one. Or at least it was similar, if a lot larger than the other one.
The one that Tor made was more colorful, having brilliant and glowing blue
sigils all over the milky tan stone.

The last one was very different, and seemed to be just a bit
of crystallized metal. That marked it as being from Blue, he thought. Unless
someone else had come over to their side that had that kind of ancient
technology too?

Judy just stood there, breathing hard, which had nothing to
do with the quick walk down the hallway. She was in too good of shape for that.
No, she was worried, and while she knew that they needed to get in touch with
people, hence them being there, it was also clear that her thoughts had ended
with the idea that
he
needed to do that part.

Hardly all that Captain like of her. Timon looked into her
eyes and smiled.

"Thank you, Captain Kerry. I'll handle it from
here."

The first thing he needed to do wasn't what he wanted, which
was to find out what had happened. No, first he needed to get in touch with
Alice Orange, and he worked out the correct sigil for that, with only a bit of
fumbling. Well, more than a little. It took about five minutes to work it all
out, his mind really not able to track with reality yet.

"Report." The stern and heavily accented voice
sounded snappish and rude, which fit the hard woman better than her normal
manner of interacting with the world, he realized. This was the real her, and
that nicer version was her playing at being just like everyone else. How he
made that leap he didn't know, but it felt right anyway. It was probably that
he'd connected with her field when he was focusing on finding her name, even if
she was thousands of miles away at the moment.

"Timon. I have a nano-device set up that will stop
micro-plasma. We need to spread it in the atmosphere, all over the world. The
continents most likely to be attacked first. Tell the Ancients to stay away
from any of it." He realized what that sounded like and tiredly tried to
fix his words, sounding almost drunk, he was so out of it. "Away from the
micro-plasma
.
If it's in the air, it will try to attack them before it dies." Hopefully
no one had decided to fight fire with fire. Not on their side at least.

"Tim? You have your work done? Are you sure?" That
was her natural skepticism toward attractive men, he understood, but she
sounded no worse than normal.

"I think so, we have to release it to find out, but the
fields are strong and feel right. Hopefully I made enough. It will come down to
spread patterns, but I couldn't do any more."

As it was, he didn't feel like he could do much of anything
at all, for a long time.

"I'll send up someone to collect it. Have you been
informed as to the situation on the ground here?"

"No. Just that there was an attack using micro-plasma
on Austra?"

"Seven nukes, two micro-plasma attacks and at least a
hundred assassinations worldwide. It's bad enough that even the idiots in Noram
have stopped fighting each other, for the time being. Not that it will last. I
have someone coming to you for the pickup. We just dump it? Will it self
spread, or do we need a spraying program?"

Timon thought he understood, but didn't talk for a while,
his voice not caring to.

"Ah. Both. Put it over high population centers first.
Let it go on its own from there. It will seek out the stuff to stop it, but we
have to protect everyone first. I'll call Brown, so he knows your people are
coming?" He didn't feel like doing it, but it was his job, he figured. The
man was family and so were his people, after a fashion.

"Understood. We have that craft coming in...
approximately twenty-seven minutes. Have the material ready, along with any
handling instructions." Then the line broke.

Things had to be pretty intense then, if that's how they
were going to be doing things. Then, that was Aunt Alice and she was nothing,
if not a warrior at heart. Unlike him. Timon, he decided right then, was a
paper pusher, deep in his soul. Oh, he could learn to fight, or build, but
making gold, putting together businesses, that made the most sense to him,
personally.

He also realized that he didn't care for building all that
much. Not as a career. He was doing well in it, but it was like being a
butcher. He knew
how
to do it, and would be fine, if he had to for a
while, but long term it would bore him too much.

It took nearly as long to get to Brown as it had Orange, but
this time no one snapped at him. The Ancient just sounded worried.

"This is Denno Brown." He seemed pretty formal
about it for some reason, as if he was expecting bad news.

"It took four tries, but I have a nano-dust that will
stop micro-plasma. Alice Orange is sending someone to get it now and then we'll
need to have it spread over Austra and everywhere else. It works, but if you
know any Ancients that you don't want dead, tell them to stay well away from micro-plasma
from now on. The new magics will send it at them, to try and kill them, if
they're too close to it."

"I... May I ask who's calling?"

Tim cleared his throat, which still left him sounding deeper
and a bit gruff and hoarse.

"Timon. It's a magical build, but it will work. I know
that your automated system will be a problem. We can use the space craft for
this, or pass it to you so that you can do it, without taking your attack grid
down. Either way. Let me know so I can tell the incoming pilot."

"Timon? That's wonderful! I think we should have our
people do it, for morale reasons. Things have been a bit tense on the ground
here, after the latest push. Gray has not been gentle with Austra. I don't know
why, but it's as if she selected us out personally. Another plague was set on
us as well. If we didn't have those healing devices that Tor made still...
Well, we're at war again. We haven't done this in nearly two thousand years.
The last time, was brutal, but nothing like
this
. We mainly went after
each other, not the general population of the planet."

He was silent and looked at Judy for a while. The woman was
young and not very pretty really, being too tall and gangly for that. She
kissed pretty well and was just plain though, not homely at all. It was exactly
the wrong thing to be thinking of, standing there talking to a world leader
however, and Brown broke in, calling his name after a bit.

"Tim? Tim? Are you still there? Did we lose the
line?"

"Here. Sorry, I've been working for a very long time now.
I'm not really me. I guess I should get with everyone else too. Judy will get
with you later, when the ship makes the pickup?" He didn't know that would
be needed, but there was a sigh from the device.

"Thank you. Judy who?"

That got him to smile. Brown had to have met the girl, at
least a few times, but he couldn't recall that happening himself, so just went
with it.

"Captain Kerry, of the Space Fleet. She's Alice Orange's
right hand person." At least that had been the case the last he'd heard
about it all.

Denno spoke a bit more hurriedly.

"Very good. Thank her for me? We should all get
together soon, if possible. I know that your issues haven't gone away. Perhaps
a meeting there? Or are you ready to begin the new lunar project? I'd love to
get a toehold there, if we can."

"Right. Later."

Timon just ended the conversation, not having enough
information for the time being, and Judy actually rolled her eyes and hit him
on the arm, if gently enough that it didn't make his shield trigger. If he even
had one on, which he didn't think was the case. He checked with a thought, and
felt the field right there around his neck, however.

Meaning that the girls from the kitchen hadn't been
pilfering his things at least. That was nice to know. Maybe they actually liked
him?

The next bit of business went to a source that no one else
would have really thought of, his mother. Or in this case his brother Terry,
who was the one that answered the family's device.

"Terry Baker, Baker residence in Two Bends, how may I
be of aid to you today, sir or ma'am?" It was so polite and well spoken,
without even a hint of the backwoods accent that Tim nearly didn't recognize
the boy at all. He was still nine, but seemed to be settling in to his new
place in the world well enough. He sounded almost like a royal.

"Hey Terry. This is Tim. Your brother, in case some
other Tim calls all the time. I have news. Can you write a message out for
me?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then, without saying
anything else the soft and still childish voice came back, sounding far too old
for his younger sibling.

"Ready to write. Go ahead."

Far too old, by leagues beyond imagining.

"Let me read this back to you." The boy sounded
very official, and a bit stern, now that Timon was paying more attention to
him. Like a military man, rather than a kid. "Official, from Countier
First Timon Baker, aboard the Space Vessel Ranford. The Sunset-fire has been
neutralized. Ships will be over populated areas releasing a compound meant to
control that in the future." The words where half Terry's but that was all
right. They sounded better than the half mumbled things he'd come up with.
"Is it too much to tell people that it
has
been neutralized
already? Since we haven't done it yet?"

Probably, Tim knew that but didn't bother talking, just
thinking about it for a while. Finally he looked at the far bulkhead and spoke
in a low tone.

"Use your best discretion. How are things there, in Two
Bends?" It was probably what he should have said first, but the boy didn't
complain about a lack of familial bonding. Since they weren't fighting, it
probably meant something else was going on.

"People are scared Tim. Even here, in the middle of
nowhere. A month ago no one on Noram knew what a nuclear device was at all.
When they set them off under the water along the West coastline it created vast
flooding and death. We had to tell people that it was like the weapons that Tor
made, only different. I still don't understand what it really is. My tutor John
had to get special permission from Denno Brown just to tell us the basics of
the idea. People are ready to fight, even here, but no one knows what to do. If
I weren't going to spread this message around, the delivery people here would
be drilling with weapons in case we have to fight. Pa is teaching us. Did you
know that he could fight at all? Everyone else was really surprised."

Timon did, of course. Assassins would have to know things
like that. He didn't mention it, just going on as if the question hadn't been a
real one.

"I see, I think. I need to get with the King and Lyn
Red... Or, can you get in touch with Lyn? She knows you, right? Just pass that
message to her? Then we need to send someone to Black. I don't think he has a
communications device yet. You can get one for him... Except that he can't use
magic. It's part of the religion there. Work out a way to pass messages with
him."

"On it."

The line broke long before Judy nudged him again, and then,
a little more gently, put an arm around him.

"Terry, he's a solid kid, but only a boy, are you sure
that he can handle all that?"

For a long time he just stood there, looking at the device
in front of him. Then he hit the sigil for Prince Alphonse. It was out of
habit, since the King didn't have one of the new style communications devices.
Probably so that people wouldn't be able to get in touch with him directly.

"Good day." The Prince sounded tired too, and
didn't give his name. He normally had in the past, so this was something new.

"Hello, Prince Alphonse. Tim Baker here. I need to talk
to your father? I can fill you in too, but going over it all twice sounds like
work."

"You sound like crap too. I think I can do that. This
isn't about you having trouble with Trice is it? I don't think that Father is
going to let you out of your marriage. Worse, she seems reasonably happy with
it so far. I know, who would have figured her for one to settle down, but here
you have it." It was clear that the giant redhead was walking while he
spoke, using mindless chatter to distract from the otherwise grim mood everyone
was in.

It didn't take long either, which meant that the Prince had
actually been in the room with the other man, or close enough to that it didn't
make a big difference.

"Countier Timon Baker on for you, Father. For all of
us, I think. Is that right Tim?"

"Yeah." He didn't sound half formal enough, but
everyone could know what was up. He explained it all quickly, and listlessly.
After he was done going through how it would happen, the King cleared his
throat.

"And you've assigned your brother Terry to travel to
Tellerand as our Ambassador? He's a bit young for the post."

That got Timon to shake his head, which meant that Judy
pushed his arm again, since that wasn't going to work.

"No, sorry, I wasn't clear. Terry is just setting up a
message system, since we can't use the communications devices. He's a decent
pilot, has his own craft and all that. We should send someone as a guard, I
guess." He hadn't thought about it at all.

Rather than yell at him for doing something like that,
without permission, the King sighed.

"Exactly my thought. Alphonse, get with Smythe and put
together a team. Then get with Countier Baker, Terrance. This is a good idea,
but we can't afford to risk our children yet. Not if we can help it."
There was a clatter in the other room, but the King kept speaking his voice
sounding very deep, indeed.

"Now, Timon, would it be possible for you to
manufacture shields for us? We have an influx of volunteers, but not even a
tiny fraction of what we need that way. Something that can block... Radiation,
was it? It's been a problem in certain regions."

Timon thought for a bit and nodded, then spoke without
another prodding from the tall girl next to him.

"Yeah. I have to sleep first. See to things here. I'm
not sure I can build again soon. That can be made though. We need something
that will clean air too, so that we have contained breathing. It can be the
same thing. Better ability to move things with shielded fingers..." He
fell asleep then, still talking. It was only a combination of Judy holding him
up and the falling sensation that allowed him not to lose the thread of the
conversation.

"Of course. I hate to ask at all. If that could be
done, as quickly as is safely possible? Then anything else you can manage. More
of your Fast Craft? Explosive weapons along the lines of the smaller ones that
Tor constructed?"

"Yeah. No problem. I'll... Yeah." Then he just
walked away, knowing that if he didn't go soon, he was going to have to sleep
on the floor on the bridge, which would have to be a tripping hazard.

Judy actually yelped behind him, but made excuses for him,
rather than making him come back. It sounded that way at least.

It took as much will as he'd ever used before, as well as a
wall and finally some help from a man that was passing by who he didn't know,
to get himself in bed. There was no window in the room, so when the lights went
out, it was completely black. It felt nice, for about ten seconds, and then he
was out so totally he wasn't sure he'd ever wake again.

He did though and immediately had to drink more water and
use the restroom, then went back to bed. How long this went on he didn't know,
but when Timon finally came out his stomach was on fire from hunger, and he
felt like someone had done something horrible in his mouth as a prank while he
slept. It was so bad that the very first thing he did was brush his teeth, even
as hungry as he was.

It was, it turned out, a mistake, since it had eaten up
valuable time he might have had to find precious food. It wasn't exactly that
anyone was
trying
to starve him, he realized, as much as that the
situation on the ground was so much worse than he'd heard that King Richard had
sent up millions of amulet sized disks and square plates for fields to be put
on. Because that made sense.

Who did he think he was, Tor?

The very fact that he'd tried to get Timon to do it and not
his brother meant a lot too. Tor was working as a baker, but had that handled
it seemed with a full time and several part time people to do his work there
for him. That either meant that King Richard had Tor working on something else,
or the man
knew
.

That would be bad. The King actually could block being read
for a while, if he knew to do it around someone, and did it commonly enough
that it might pass as normal, but if he told anyone else at all then the secret
would be out before they could realize that they
shouldn't
think about
Cordes being the villain.

Worse, it was sort of obvious too. There was no way in heck
that Richard would send all this work to him, rather than someone else. Not
unless Tor and the Lairdgren group had both been taken off the table somehow.
Compromised. If so, no one had mentioned it to him at all yet. They hadn't even
hinted about knowing something, or let it slip, like people almost always did.

In the moment though it meant that the second he stuck his
head out of the door to his cabin, nearly twenty ship's crew descended on him and
started packing amulets into his room. Big boxes of them, on floating pallets.
Those felt like Sam Builders work.

Nice and solid.

All Timon could wonder was how he wasn't dead yet. Remy
Seventeen almost had to be aboard already. That thought got him to read each of
the people that walked in, taking all of his space away, one at a time. They
didn't seem strange or different at all. A few were a bit put out by the extra
work, and didn't know why it might be important, and a couple were simply bored,
but no one seemed involved in direct intrigue,
or
wanted him dead.

Sighing he held his stomach like a begging street urchin,
and looked around.

"I don't suppose one of these crates has lunch in it? I
haven't eaten in days." He thought that was the case at any rate. No one
called him a liar, but they kept working, and didn't say much at all to him.
Luckily Judy had been called it seemed and she came with a plate of food. It
was bread and fruit, with a honey butter spread, but it looked wonderful, at
the moment. She motioned to the bed and handed it to him. There was no place
else left to sit.

"The King wanted me to request shields first. The new
ones you were mumbling on about if possible. Then new craft and weapons. As
many as you can do. Orange wants you to help backup the colony crew, since we
can't work on the surface yet and I'm supposed to remind you that you're behind
schedule on that. I do think she was joking, but it was hard to tell. She's
been on edge. We all have." She picked up a bite of sliced fruit and
tucked it in his mouth. It was a lot more intimate than they'd ever really
been, but he chewed, getting the idea.

He had to eat and didn't have time for a nice and elaborate
meal. Or, it seemed, cutlery.

As soon as his mouth was empty he reached for the bread and
started to put a lot of the spread on it, since he needed the calories, he
figured. Everything but the food on the plate was hollow to his mind. It wasn't
real at all, like the walls and floor. It was all magic. He used the blunt
glass looking paddle anyway, and removed the butter and honey from the crystal
dish. It smelled good at least.

"You know, I would have thought that going all the way
off of a planet would have made it harder for people to make up work for me,
not easier."

"I know. I think that things are getting pretty bad.
Everyone wants us to go home, to help guard the kingdom. Austra has actually
requested our aid already. Tellerand... They've been really hurt bad by all
this. Plagues there. They can't work the healing devices on their own hardly.
Not most of them. That there Black Ancient, he had to claim that anyone that
could turn one of them on was a saint and required to do it. Most that can had
been in hiding before that, because it's clear magic in the making, and they
hate that there. A group of priests tried to set on your little brother and his
guards. Terry kicked their butts for them. By himself. Didn't even use a
weapon, just walked out with his shield on and took down twenty armed men. Not
fighters, but still, they got the idea. When the people from Noram come, you
should be polite."

Timon didn't ask if the kid was all right. Terry was
strange, in his own quiet fashion. He was more polite than most of the rest of
them, and smart, but also a lot tougher, really. Inside, where it counted. A
little thing like an attack would just make him a bit sour, not even angry with
the people that had done it. If he wasn't back to normal by the next day, then
Tim didn't really know him at all.

As soon as the food was done, he was left to his own devices
again, and started to plan out how to borrow ideas from seven different, and
very incompatible things, in order to make a brand new kind of shield. He had
too many projects not to link it all together after all.

It took him another month to get it finished and when he
finally came up for air, his body sort of gave out. The first two weeks had
just been on the original design, but then he had to make all those copies.
Millions of them. It was easier than billions at least, even if it did take a
lot longer for him to get his room back.

That was his fault though, since he didn't have any way to
move left on him. That meant he had to crawl, since he sure as heck wasn't
walking
anywhere. It was kind sickening, how out of shape he'd gotten, until he
remembered to use a healing amulet. It didn't fix him instantly, but it helped
enough that he could stand on his own and shuffle along. He held the thing for
a while, nearly an hour, then got water and finally more food.

That was, he thought, down to his genetic pattern. He healed
toward strength, to a good degree, even if he wasn't getting any exercise. Most
people didn't without exercise. It was a slow thing though, and had to have an
upper limit, or he'd be vastly muscled and powerful already, instead of just
kind
of strong and fast. It meant he was ready to actually get back to work by the
time he was finished. Though exercise was still going to have to become part of
his daily activity, or at least heavy healing was.

Probably that second one, since there was a lot left to do.