by Power, P. S.
It was delivered blankly, those words, as if they were a simple truth.
Timon shrugged.
"What you do that way is up to you. My guess is that you'd be put on as a garden girl? Tending the flowers and such. Or in the kitchen. Can you cook?" He held out his hand, waiting for the attack to come, but it didn't. The girl just looked relieved and a bit apprehensive, but took the coins and the three amulets from him. Which was better than he figured would happen. He stepped back, and bowed.
"There's a clothing amulet there, so that you can dress as you wish. The coins are enough to buy a meal as well. Several really, in case Trice, Patricia, my wife, says no. Not that she would. She pretends to be hard at times, but she's a soft touch that way. Don't tell her I said that though. Best to keep up the illusions as long as possible. My bet is that if you would have presented yourself there like this months ago, she would have taken you in, you know that? This works too. For me I mean."
Remy the girl looked innocent and guileless for a bit, until she tried to bow, peasant fashion and bumped her head on the containment field.
"What..." She poked at it, and then looked scared for a moment, which got Timon to nod back at her.
"The other two amulets. One created that field. It can only be turned off from here however. Now that it's up we don't even need that amulet, that was just to set what it would surround. Go ahead and destroy it, if you want. I can make more. The other..." Timon shrugged and paced closer, as if he weren't horribly afraid. It was a lie, of course, but he was no stranger to doing that. Lying was a skill of his.
Going silent he pointed at the girl's bare feet, and then waited. They were already swelling. Not a lot, but enough that it was noticeable.
"Can you feel those anymore? I don't think you'll be able to."
Remy Seventeen looked down at them, and then her hands, which were also puffing up a nice bit.
"You know, I can't. Interesting. What is it?"
"It's actually a variation of micro-plasma, after a fashion. Tiny shields that surround each of the components of your being, one at a time. They can't attach to the other pieces or communicate, which, I hope, will pretty much make it so that you can't move, after a bit. You won't get out of the field either, so my guess is that in about... Oh, ten to twenty minutes, you'll be frozen in place. It should kill you, actually, if Monroe is right about how you're built. If he was wrong you'll probably kill me, so I sort of hope so." He waited, watching the line of puffy looking flesh rise up the bare legs.
Remy just laughed. It actually sounded pleased, which made Timon wonder where his death would be coming from. He even looked around, just in case.
The girl in front of him sighed though and smiled at him.
"No, you got me. Finally, a worthy adversary. It took so long to find you, and then I had to push you into being what you are now. The new ultimate killer. My replacement. To think, you're a bag of water too, and not one of the elite at all. Not one of my kind. The new elite, I guess? Magic. Who knew?" She, or it as the case may be, stared at the line that moved up her form, that was only partway up the thighs. "A bit slow though. Couldn't you have made this quicker? What if I figured out how to beat it? Not that I have a clue, but that's what I would say if I almost had it too, isn't it?"
That was true. He really could have, but he bowed instead of answering instantly. When he spoke, his voice was soft, and deeper than normal.
"Yes. I was hoping that you'd be willing to answer some questions, before the end comes? We don't have long, so if you don't want to, no one in the world will be able to force your hand, or tongue, as the case may be." It was just the truth, but the Remy let her head tilt and then nodded.
"Let's chat then, Timmy. What do you want to know? Who I was in your world? No one in particular. I figured it was too dangerous to replace anyone wholesale. I've been several of your people though, at different times. The Queen even, a few times, which you've no doubt guessed. Kinkaid Rue, Dan Samson from Two Bends, and sundry others. We've even kissed you know, if not romantically. I'll let you work that one out on your own however. I didn't kill anyone, but I have rather left your Aunt Connie in trouble, haven't I? The King and his people quite think she's a spy now. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time too often can do that."
The line of swelling was to her middle now, so he didn't bother stopping to talk about that sort of thing. Even if they'd kissed, it wouldn't have mattered. Except to confirm that the being was really trying to die. If he'd been a real target to it, then he could have died any number of times already. It had left him alive then, and groomed him for this, like it had hinted.
"Is there a fleet coming from space? Is it a real danger to us?"
That got a strange and slightly annoyed look at least, rather than a smirk or something that spoke of condescension.
"That's what you want to know? Yes, and no. There is a fleet coming, three of them, just like it seems, but think about it, eighteen years away? No one would travel that slowly would they? Not living beings. It's something coming back in, and Gray and Cordes used that to influence the rest of you. To distract you all. It's just a robot fleet. They come every few hundred years, and then move off again. That the others, Green and Brown don't know about it, makes sense, being that they've been kept in the dark about a lot of things over the centuries, but Cindy Blue should know. Now, ask yourself, why wouldn't she have told you about that?" Now there was a smirk.
Timon however rolled his eyes.
"Because she wants a space fleet, clearly. Now, do you know what Cordes and Gray really have planned and why?"
That got an honest sounding laugh.
"No. I'm not with them. I wouldn't be. Killing off humanity is foolish. We are humanity. Well, they are. I've never had anyone else, other than my people, so I always looked at it that way too. Only a fool would do that. It's clear that they mean to however. There aren't enough clones for it to work, a few thousand. I think that Gray has lost it, if you want to know the real reason here. She can't see common sense anymore. It was never really her long suit anyway. Brilliant little bitch, but too wrapped up in her own little woman's utopia to understand reality half the time."
She looked down at the rising line, that was moving faster now, as the billions of fields spread.
"Time for one more, I think."
"Are there anymore of you Remy left? I have another device that could kill you all, I think, anywhere on the planet, but I don't want to use it. My mother has it right now, so, you know, she might have already. She's Gray without the Rhetistics after all."
That earned him a pained look at least.
"I don't know. I hope not. I've tried so hard to die for so long. We're all the same, us Remy. They have to be trying to do it too. If so... Well, kill them, if you can. It will be a good thing, I think. It's time, and far past when it should have happened."
Timon didn't answer, but also didn't say no. He might not have a choice at all, he realized. Laurie Baker was her own woman, and always had been.
As the line got to the neck, the thing stopped talking, since there wasn't enough air left to make that happen. That or it was just done and wanted to spend its last moments thinking of something happy. It didn't fight though, or try to change shape, the girl in front of him just smiled, looking puffy and swollen all over, including the plain brown shift.
Then the line slowly crawled to the top of her head, and it was done.
Not that he was going to count her not moving as being truly dead, of course. He had time now, to launch it into the sun, which would be what came next, after he finished with the King and Queen.
He felt empty, instead of triumphant. Really he was waiting for the thing to start moving again, and didn't let the containment field down at all, just in case. Instead he pulled a small focus stone tile from his pocket and walked back to his own gate, letting the floating corpse move along behind him silently, the feet almost dragging on the earth. The guards looked shocked at least, but let him in
, so he explained as well as he could.
"It's an Ancient shape changing assassin. Dead now, I hope. We can put it in the garden shed, for now?" He did the work himself, but the women didn't seem to think it seemed normal or good. Walking around with what seemed to be a dead girl could do that.
The interesting part was that, even though worried over it, they didn't try to stop him from doing it, even if it was horribly creepy seeming. Then, he was a noble and the girl had clearly been a commoner. That made it legal enough, most likely.
Tim grimaced, but didn't have to go find his wife or mother, since they both came out to look at what he was doing, which probably meant the gate guard had actually reported him to someone at least, if only them.
Working carefully, he tucked the Remy away and then explained it all.
Trice looked baffled for a bit, and a little frightened, as if he'd lost his mind, so he pulled a truth amulet and confirmed his story.
"So, that's an Ancient assassin, and it can look like anything. Or it could. That part's done now though. As for the rest of the day, well, now I lost so much time I guess I should catch a ride in to the Palace?" He tried to sound light, but his mother hugged him closely for a long time and then moved to hand the amulet he'd given her the night before back.
"I gather I won't have to take my revenge then?" Her words seemed pleased with the idea, so he took the device.
"No. Though Remy Seventeen here did suggest that using that might be a kindness to the others. I don't know if any are left however. Or what they might think of things if they are. I think we should hold off for now. So, shall we?"
He'd had to set up the containment field, so that no one else could move it, carrying away the piece that would allow that to happen, but with it turned off. If he didn't come back, no one was taking his dead Remy, he didn't think. Not unless they were a very good builder themselves. Then he got in a tiny carriage that Trice set up for them. Laurie wasn't scheduled to go to the Palace and given the wars and all that you didn't just show up unannounced anymore. Oddly enough they still had people going with them, since Terlee and Tovey were slated to attend meetings.
They went in low though, not flying over the city. After they were halfway there, Count Thompson explained why that was.
"Austra sent a set of missiles for us, to guard the city. The Royal Guard has control of them, so as you can imagine, no one flies over the Capital now. You land outside the gate and come in slow, or find yourself in a million pieces. As you might perceive, it's making things far slower than they were for a while. It pretty much means that no one flies here now. Even the birds look a bit edgy when they try it."
That made sense at least. After a fashion. It was sad though, since flying was so much fun, and a lot faster than walking or even floating along like they were, in comfort. Not that it took long to get to the front gate, about twenty minutes, since there were checkpoints they had to stop at, swearing under Truth verification that they were expected at the Palace and of good intent.
Four of them, just to reach the front gate. Even regular passers-by, a half mile away, were stopped. It was oppressive, but what the Ancients had brought upon them, with their attacks. What else were people going to do, after all?
For his part Timon just rested, letting the world pass around him outside the windows of the dark blue floating carriage. It wasn't a Tor build or one of his, he realized after a while. It felt... different. It was slow, and didn't fly for one thing, going no more than a foot over the ground. Trice rode in the front, and Tovey had been crammed in the back, nearly bent in two. It still took a moment to figure it out, patting the visible shield to try and get a better connection.
"Taman built this?"
That got Terlee to nod and smile.
"She did! All by herself. She has a whole line of them. They don't change shape, like yours do, or move into the sky or very fast, but she's selling them for five gold a piece and making them on stone, which means that a lot of people can actually afford them. She has some that are bigger too, and open in the back like a wagon. Tovey and I bought twenty of them, for our farms. I think this one was given as a late wedding gift to you and Patricia?" She patted the side, which seemed to be covered with nice blue leather.
Trice cleared her throat.
"That's right. They're the preferred vehicle for in the city now too. Faster than a horse, but enclosed for safety. Not too shabby, considering she's only six."
That got Tim to sigh.
"I've missed a lot of birthdays back home. Well, I guess I'll need to make that right then. This is really nice, actually. We should buy some too, if we have the funds for it, I mean. I've been ignoring business for a while."
That got a laugh from everyone, but it was Trice that explained, sounding pleased enough.
"We've taken over goods transport between the more distant areas, in Kingdom and out. Your new Fast Craft are perfect for it. We aren't exactly hurting for gold."
That was nice to hear, since it was one less thing to worry about.
"Good, then it will just make me seem full of myself when I give everyone presents later, instead of stupid. Or, well, probably both." He grinned, but his wife just opened her door, so the Royal Guards could pass out more Truth amulets.
That was the way things were now, it seemed.
Chapter nine
It was Kevin the gate guard that nudged him, reaching into the vehicle with a wink.
"Going to school after your visit?" It was teasing and Tim nodded, looking down at the plain brown clothing he still had on.
"A point. Let's see..." He focused and caused one of his old visiting outfits to appear. It was silver and black, but not overdone. It was early still, not a party and really he just didn't feel like showing off. Count Thomson and Terlee looked better than he did and even Trice shifted so that she was in a green and silver dress that looked finer, but not so much that he had to feel bad about it. It was a bit plain, for a Countier First, but hey, who cared?
Trice took the carriage down as soon as they all got out of it and they were escorted to the meeting room directly, by four guards. No one else seemed to think it was over the top, but Timon couldn't help but remember that the last time he'd been there he'd only been led in by one, himself. It was a big deal too, since they had to wait for the guards to come back from the last group to come through. That meant they weren't late at least, which would be rude.
Timon plastered a smile on his face and tried not to care about anything at all.
The halls seemed the same, and a few minutes later they were led into a large space that had chairs lining it, with what seemed to be all the Counts and Countesses there. With their spouses, which made for about sixty people in all. Tiera was already there too, looking serene. She didn't have a spouse yet, Timon noticed. He might have missed that, but it was good to know he hadn't.
The instant they got into the room, The King stood, with Aunt Connie by his side, and then they bowed. Low. They held it too, which was pretty darned respectful, just for them. The rest of the room rose and did the same, toward him. Even Tovey and Terlee did, though Trice just stood next to him, hand in hand.
Ah. They were bowing to the person that held their debt. Timon bowed then, going low, with Trice matching him, her eyes going wide, as if he were making a mistake. He knew what he was doing though, and held the move until the King stood, smiling. Even Connie smiled.
"Lord Baker! We're pleased that you can attend us here today. We've heard of the unfortunate attacks upon your person. If there is anything we can do to aid you in that situation, please let us know?" He seemed to mean it, even though he sat and left the newcomers standing. Tovey and Terlee had chairs, but he and Trice had to stay where they were. Not that it mattered. Tim was hoping not to linger too long.
"Thank you, Sire. Queen Constance." He bowed again, but only a little, which wouldn't require a response. "I've handled that situation with the Ancient assassin, in the last hour. It's dead."
That got a murmur from the room, which sounded doubtful. Tim pulled his Truth amulet and repeated himself, glowing cheerily. No lie showed, since he didn't bother.
"So, I'm holding the body in my shed. I'm planning on dropping it into the sun later. This isn't the kind of thing to take lightly."
No one doubted him then, but a few muttered something about the Remy not being that big of a threat, if a mere boy could handle it. That made logical sense, so Tim didn't bother worrying about it. No one said otherwise either, not even Count Lairdgren, who was just staring at him. Trying to read him.
To make certain he wasn't Remy Seventeen, just pretending to be him. After a bit, the man smiled and sat back, still holding his tongue.
It was the Queen that spoke next, her voice tense and a bit brittle. She was good at that. To be fair, Timon had seen her with other people, and she was fine. Even kind and gentle. The woman just wasn't comfortable around him. He didn't know why.
"Lord Baker, it's been a matter of conversation, how we're to repay you for the work that you've done on our behalf. The new shields that do so much, the anti-radiation units for towns, and the rest you sent us. The new weapons and all that we asked for. Do you have some thought in mind as to what you might want?" She seemed really uneasy about it all, as if he were going to ask for the Kingdom itself, or perhaps just that she be run through the streets naked, while people hurled rotten fruit at her?
For a moment, as petty as it was, he nearly said that last one, just as a joke.
Instead he took a deep breath and looked around the room. Connie wasn't the only person that seemed uncomfortable. Timon really understood now, what Tor was always going on about. It was hard to bear, knowing that anything he did would probably be taken the wrong way. Still, there was only so much he could do.
