by Power, P. S.
Timon thought about it for a while and then nodded.
"Well, I'll see to that then, if I'm alive to do it when the time comes. I can't let my favorite uncle down, can I?" He meant it, but Denno just looked sad.
"Children shouldn't have to worry about things like this. Or killers coming for them."
"No one should, but it happens and we either deal with it or lose everything. Take your pick, because I don't think there's a good third option."
There was a sound that came from the door, which had been left open. It was Alice Orange, at least from appearance. When Timon let his mind run out, he could feel her. Not that he was certain the Remy couldn't fake a pattern too, on that level, but it was the best he could manage.
"Ah! There's the pretty men. Conspiring against me already? I should have insisted that you have a woman with you, so that I'd at least stand a chance." It was her own Rhetistics that made her say that, Tim knew, so he didn't worry about it.
"Aunt Orange. Can we get a crew for the new Lunar colony project? Monroe has some ideas for it. It will probably mean a lot of work for me, but I'll live. Most likely." One way or the other.
"We can do that. High Servants? Clever of King Richard, sending them off into space to get rid of them. Half of them are fine enough, but the others aren't worth the spit needed to moisten my tongue to scream at them. Guess which you're going to get?"
Timon didn't rise to the bait, "fine. Let's do it then. I need to work it all out anyway. Let's call it another two weeks to get things started? It might be more than that."
That got a laugh from the two Ancients, which annoyed him, but Tim didn't let it show. Had he said something funny? He didn't think so, but Denno, who really was his favorite, actually explained it to him.
"Weeks. There was a time when building a base on the moon took longer. I think the first time it was a few million years? The second base took nearly fifty, from the start of planning to completion."
Alice cleared her throat and spoke with her thick and slightly strange accent.
"Longer than that. Closer to sixty-five. I worked on the whole thing, personally. It was one of the first projects I managed without killing anyone." She spread her hands, but held them low, as if ready to fight with the smaller men. She always did that, even when things were relaxed. "Not that some few didn't deserve it. I must be getting old, I hardly ever kill anyone anymore. That or people are finally becoming smarter. I doubt it's that."
Blinking Tim tilted his head.
"It's probably just that I don't understand all that will be needed. It won't be up and running on its own for a year or longer. I figure we can use a variation of the Earth moving and compression units to start with. Create that first, then figure out how to make air and water. I mean, I can make them now, but I have to create a field that will make it permanent."
Then he got to spend three hours explaining that to both of them, with Denno barely keeping up at all and Alice thinking he was trying to trick her, making promises that he wouldn't, or more likely, couldn't, keep.
"That really might be the case, not the trickery part, since that's just your Rhetistics, but it will be hard to pull off. If I can do it, well, then it will be taking magic to the next level, won't it? Creating reality with thought. I don't even know if that's a good idea. Still, we probably won't really know until we try it."
Then they held up the returning ship even longer, going over the specifications for the new base. When they finally left, it was six hours after they'd planned to leave and Timon was starving.
Sleepy too. He went to find food, going to where he knew the kitchen, the galley, to be. It was almost time for the second ship meal, having missed the first completely, thanks to all the planning. The fare was plain, but he ate it in the common room and lingered, getting to see almost everyone as they stopped for their own meal.
Timon knew he was stalling, trying not to get in contact with Tor. They'd been fighting and calling up to ask for help with something, even just for information, was going to be hard. It had to be done though, unless he could work out how to make mass copies himself. It wasn't that nothing came to mind, just that what did, making it grow like a tree, probably wouldn't make enough different versions of itself.
Sighing, he stood up, and walked out of the plain blue room with its little tables that seemed to be made all out of well rounded stone, and went to the observation deck. That was just a fancy name for a medium sized room that no one went into, with one of the walls turned into a clear shield, so that you could see Earth. They were rounding it fast, but he could see that Noram was still mainly in sunlight, meaning his brother would be awake.
The milky tan focus stone in his hand shook a bit, as a flash of anger hit him. It was complex and uncomfortable this time. He was still mad at Tor, but knew that it might not have totally been his fault. That stripping away of what Timon really was served Cordes so well, that the suggestion for it might well have come from there, if not the work.
Tapping the sigil, he waited and after two minutes nearly tapped it again, to turn it off.
So naturally a voice came then.
"Tor's Bakery, Sherilyn Bonner speaking, how may I help you this fine day?" The girl sounded chipper and happy. That wasn't always the case, but normally was. She was Ali's school roommate.
"Hey Sherri. Timon here. I was wondering if Tor was around? I can get back with him later-"
There was a clatter, and then a voice that sounded familiar.
His brother.
"Tim! I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Is everything all right?"
"Define all right?" There was a hint of surliness in his tone, so he tried to cover it with a small laugh. "No, really, everything is fine. I just wanted some building advice, since I managed to get kicked out of school without a single lesson. Not that Printer has a good building section yet."
There was a murmur from Sherri, and then Tor, who spoke a bit louder. "That would be great. I'll be in my office." Then there was a sound of movement, as his brother explained, apparently to him, what was happening. "I had to buy the place next door and add an office since people keep interrupting me at work. Sherri's doing pretty well, and I have a fulltime assistant here. Now, do you need me to do some building for you?"
Since that was the last thing Tim wanted in the world, he tried to cover in typical little brother fashion.
"I can do it myself, at least I hope so. I need to make field impregnated nano-dust." This next bit was the hard part, the bit that might cause Cordes to get involved. It pretty much had to be done though, since he really didn't think that anything else would work. "I came up with a field to stop micro-plasma, which is a horrible weapon that's kind of like death dust, only made of energy. It burns people when they breathe it in, or it touches them, and can potentially kill everyone. I can stop it already, but-"
Without missing a beat Tor continued for him.
"But the field has to be where the problem is. So, nano-dust... Well, it's a bit boring, but you probably have all the skills already. It's basically like making a growing field, that's basically alive, like a virus or bacteria, so that it will breed and make copies of itself, directed to do so inside the medium you choose. Be careful though, since there can be problems with having too much magic in the world. This should be all right, since it's just stopping a problem. Maybe run it by Denno and Burks first? Just to make certain that it's going to be what you want?"
Even with the caution, he ran over the whole thing with him three times, to make sure he understood it all. There were more steps than it sounded like there should be, but most of them were simple enough, if Tor wasn't just being humble and making it sound easier than it was.
"What else do you have going on? I hear that you moved to space? Is Trice going to go and live with you there soon? It seems weird, you being away from your wife." There was a bit of darkness in those words at least, and Timon knew it wasn't about him not being with Trice all the time either. He was more than
a little upset that Timon had married her, even if it had been to keep her safe from some creep that she was supposed to marry. Rico Gala. The new Baron, after he'd killed his father and mother a few weeks back. Nearly a month now.
Timon ignored that and smiled, so it would show in his voice.
"We're putting together a new moon base. A colony really. The High Servants are coming in to do the work, since it will help safeguard humanity." It wasn't until the words were out that he understood it to be a mistake. After all Cordes would have to realize that it would mean humanity wouldn't be gone, wouldn't he? Though, come to think of it, that part of the plan was almost certainly Gray's. Cordes had an agenda, but what that was no one had ever told him at all.
"Hey, Tor... Would it be all right if I asked Cordes some questions? I'm having a little problem with a Remy, and wanted to see if he had any suggestions other than 'you're going to die'. I get that it's the most likely case, but..." This was going to be interesting, since he didn't know if Cordes, the one in Tor, knew that he knew that the Ancient King was in on the whole plan.
"Naturally, young Timon. What do you need of me?" The voice was still Tor's, but deeper and with a strange accent. Not as strange as some of the others, but it was enough that it sounded wrong on his brother.
It was tempting to confront him, but that would be a mistake, no matter what. Timon took a breath and described the situation. The one with Remy Seventeen wanting him dead, what Monroe had projected as being the most likely case scenario and the plan he'd told Denno, about first helping with the lunar base set up then moving out into space for exploration, to buy himself time. The only difference was that this time it sounded so much more sensible suddenly.
Cordes seemed to agree.
"That would sadden Torrance, to have you leave. Especially since the fight you are having is my fault. I urged him to make those corrections to you, Timon. I've seen that sort of thing before, the lack of conscience, the reduced sense of fear. It never ends well. I'd hate for you to leave us, before making things right with Tor. It wasn't his decision. Not alone. Perhaps if your anger could be shared with me, it might allow you two to reconcile?" The man sounded both friendly and reasonable. It was probably why people had made him King and left him there, for over a thousand years, before he'd gone insane.
"I'll work on that part. This might... I don't have a lot of choices." It was too easy to talk to the man he realized, almost as if it were a power that he had. Even over the communications hand-held.
"Good! Now, the Remy... They don't have a lot of weaknesses and even trying to die, it might be too much for you alone. Isolating yourself will at least cut down on the collateral damage. They are weak to intense radiation, temperatures over three thousand degrees... You know about their shape changing? They're very strong and fast, but you can contain them. Think of an elephant. If you can keep one of those in..." There was a bit of swearing then. "You have no clue what that is, do you?"
"Nope." Timon didn't add anything, just imagining the giant thin Ancient twirling his mustache. Except he was in Tor's body and didn't have facial hair at all. It was considered bad form for a baker.
"Let me see then. If you could contain one of the larger nobles, in a full Combat Rage? That should be enough."
Timon tilted his head.
"So, use a special ship, one with no way to control it from the inside, and send it into the sun? That's hot enough, isn't it?"
There was an intake of breath, but Cordes kept talking.
"Yes. It wouldn't be the first time that trick has been used however. You need to have more than one plan. At least seven. I really wasn't aware that there was a Remy left at all, I haven't even heard of one in... Well, let's say that it's been a long time and leave it at that? I wonder who they've been? If they're after you, then you have to know that they've been watching you for years first. They won't just pick someone out of a crowd after all. Not for a project like this, doing that would run counter to their fundamental nature. You should be quite proud you know. By doing this, one of the greatest killers in history is proclaiming you their equal. That's not an honor to take lightly."
It was however, one that Timon could have done without. He did record the advice in his head however, coming from the enemy or not. No one had ever claimed that Cordes was stupid, they'd just mentioned him having gone insane after a time.
"Thank you. Well, I'll let you explain to Tor that the reason I'm going to sleep with his wife is all your fault then. It's wrong to make changes to people without their consent. That got you into trouble before you know." True that was a lot more people and he'd really messed it up, but still...
"Ah. That's an unkind thing to plan. Torrance isn't your enemy. Even I'm not. It's for the best. As for the other thing, you know, I don't recall that at all?"
"That isn't an excuse not to learn from it. Thank you again, for the advice."
"Certainly, I'll be in touch if I think of anything else."
"Thanks."
Then he clicked off, before he had to talk to Tor again and answer questions. There were certainly enough of them to go around after all.
It wasn't enough to just know how to create the nano-dust field sets however. He had to get the right kind of material to put them on, and then actually make it work. That would be hard, he figured. Not the dust, which he got just by asking Monroe to help him make some, but the field itself would be brutal to put together.
That, he feared, was going to be all his building from now on. In one way or another, it was going to just be so hard to do that no one sane would bother with it. He had to have some new things ready to go, ones that Cordes-Tor didn't know about. Things that Remy had never heard of and wouldn't be ready for. That meant taking huge amounts of time doing things that he really wasn't in love with in the first place. He could build and was getting pretty decent at it, after a fashion.
If he'd been going to Lairdgren, they probably would have let him in to their working group there, and it was starting to attract the best building students in the kingdom. All he had was himself and Deshi, who he hadn't even seen at all since he'd gotten on the ship. That was being a good host, there, he decided, rolling his brown eyes up at the overhead, which was a light tan in his room. There were spots on it that glowed a pure clean white light, making the whole place feel very clean, if not overly real.
It wasn't nice of him, he knew, but instead of finding the man, who would be getting up to who knew what, Timon napped for a bit longer. After all, if he was going to need to be in and out of trance states for over a month, he needed to have at least a full days rest first.
"How can I have literally nothing else to do and still be too busy to get all my work done? It's not like I have to be ready for the big dance next week." He was stuck, floating in the inky black of space, with nothing but different building projects to do. The idea itself was mind numbing, but at least this next bit wouldn't be as bad. Tor had mentioned that he'd be able to hold the field and move around for hours each day, if he did it right, since it was being set to grow on its own. He'd done something similar before, though his fast craft hadn't taken as long each day. About two hours.
This one would be closer to sixteen, if he had the principle right.
After he finished his second nap, still feeling a little tired, he got up, stretched and showered, then went to find Deshi and Monroe. They weren't together, since the mage was more than a little in awe of the all black man, thinking him a god. He wasn't against being with people though, so had taken to practicing his Noram standard with the kitchen crew, who were all treating him like they would a suitor, Tim noticed, each plying the slightly strange looking robed man with sweets or cups of things to drink. It was a good sign.
Timon looked at the scene for a bit and then shrugged, speaking from the door, his voice deeper than he recalled it being.
"If you want to propose marriage, let me know and I'll pass the word to Lyn Red, the leader of Vagus. You'd have to be willing to move
there, but we are putting in a space base near the mage compound there, so it might work without too much difficulty."
The girls all giggled, since they weren't all that much older than he was, and one of them blushed, but looked at Deshi seriously enough that Tim wondered if she'd really ask him to do that. Deshi just looked confused for his part.
"I'm... Forgive me, Great Brother, my skills are not as great at the language of your people as I presumed, perhaps? Why would they talk to the Great Mother about marriage to me? Shouldn't they talk to me about it? More, why would they wish that?" He seemed truly baffled by the idea at least and since he wasn't stupid, that had to be due to the vows that Lyn was making all the mages take. It would basically keep them in poverty all their lives.
Unless the mage married, and their spouse could provide for them.
"Why not? You're attractive enough, and would be a good father." That bit was for the girls, since they were common stock, all looking similar enough to the girls from Vagus, with their brown or black hair, and brown eyes. All orphans too. They probably couldn't tell what a good father would be like at all. "That plus the fact that you have a certain political clout, even if you do have vows of poverty to uphold in your own land. Vagus has its charms however, too." Timon turned to look at the girls directly, all of whom were dressed in magical clothing, which was in black and orange. It was an ugly combination, but they were fresh and young, if not exactly stunning beauties. Of course they weren't dressed and made up for a court function, but cooking.
After a bit, Timon saw a row of chairs along the far wall, and pulled one over. It looked like black glass, with a soft cushion on the seat, done in orange. Like a round pumpkin that someone had squashed there. It was comfortable enough at least.
"The land there is a bit wild, but the people are honorable and not prone to prejudice or looking down on others. There are no nobles there really, and their builders are less greedy than the ones in Noram. You all have good jobs, and will be able to travel and since Deshi is probably going to end up with some kind of liaison job with Noram, as well as his other duties, it would be a good pairing, I think. For any of you." Timon smiled a bit, but not too much, since he was actually being a bit of a jerk to everyone in the room.
