by Power, P. S.
That meant bowing again, to the front. It would look like he was about to make a demand, but it was what you did when you presented a gift too.
"That's for the Kingdom. I should have sent a note. If the perceived debt caused any tension here, I apologize for it. I haven't been thinking in that fashion for some time." He held the bow until the King bowed back, looking slightly bemused.
"You're giving us this, as a gift?"
"For the common defense, yes. As is the responsibility of each with the ability, in times of peril." It sounded pretty good, he thought, though for some reason it caused a dead silence, for nearly half a minute.
Right until a very old man stood.
And bowed to him.
The rest of the room followed, including his wife, who angled toward him. He'd seen this kind of thing before, but they held it and didn't stand. He wasn't supposed to bow back, but a few of the older giants were going to collapse soon, if they didn't stand up. So he waved at them.
"Thank you, all. Now, what's the next bit of business?" Maybe he could leave, which would be nice.
That wasn't happening though. In fact, after everyone recovered and the blood rushed away from their heads, the King sat and got right to work.
"We need to know the disposition of your new colony, as well as what plans you have, for the near future. Are you coming for a rest?"
That sounded so nice, but he had to shake his head.
"No, I have more work to see to. The project, well, we're making a full city, not just a base. Eventually we'll need people to live there. The hope is to have it ready in about six months for the first who are going to live there. Sooner, if we can manage it. The idea is to have folk from each land. I wouldn't want the job, but hopefully someone will volunteer. We'll need about a hundred thousand people to start, with a little over a million being the eventual goal."
That caused a stir, but no one called him on the idea, even if it sounded like a bit much.
The giant redheaded King waved at him, a seated and gentle move that spoke of amazement, but didn't, at the same time.
"What other plans do you have? With this assassin gone, it's safe for you to attend school again, isn't it?"
That was a hard one to call. He didn't ask if Remy had been the one responsible for the nuclear weapon. He didn't think so, since the being had been in Printer and everyone said that it was one of the few things that could kill a Remy outright.
"No, I don't think so. That may change, but there's a war on, and like it or not, I'm in this thing." Timon was afraid that he was going to have to explain that to them, but Count Breen stood and cleared his throat. Loudly.
"That's a brave and sensible thing for Lord Baker to be doing. Perhaps we could stop browbeating him in full court, and see to a meal? Or at least some beverages?" Normally it would be horribly rude to ask for food or drink like that, and worse to not offer it, but the King just threw off a short and choppy seated bow.
"Yes. I take your meaning, Count Breen. It's not a poor idea at all."
It still took five minutes for everyone to stand, and the King and Queen didn't leave, after calling for drinks, but instead mingled, as if it were a party. A horribly boring, and rather stuffy one at that. Worse, the second that the others all stood up, the main doors opened and several other people walked in. Karina was a welcome face, and walked up to him carefully, her freckles looking cute on her dusky skin and her hair a bit longer than he remembered.
"There you are. I nearly had to go to space just to visit you."
Timon didn't know what to do really, and started to touch her arm, only to be grabbed into a hug.
"You're getting big too. Tall. Six more months at this pace and you'll be bigger than I am."
She was only about six-four or five. So she was probably about right.
The bad part was what came next, as Tor was right behind her, standing next to Prince Alphonse. Timon was in a trance, but he pushed himself deeper then, letting himself think of nothing much at all. Tor was huge now. Nearly seven feet tall, and still fine looking, but rail thin. Like Tiera, he still managed to look like himself.
"Timon. I hear that you've made it so I never have to build again? About time. Now we just need to get Tiera on things and I can just bake and make some mediocre sculptures. Not that I've been making anything important for a while. I guess that you've handled it all?"
Rather than try to talk about anything important, Timon smiled, without feeling himself do it and regarded his brother with cool eyes.
"Is Alyssa around today?" It was an indirect dig, and Tor made a face, showing that he got the idea. Tim was teasing, but only sort of. After all, he really was still angry with Tor. He understood why he'd changed him, making him feel guilt and shame, but it wasn't needed, and never had been.
His brother was reading him, and got what he was thinking rather clearly. He could feel the attempted connection, and pushed back a bit. He was too upset to let it go without resisting.
"Timon... That's a bit petty of you, isn't it?"
"Probably, but it might actually get your attention, and keep you from doing things like that again."
"Ah..." It was exasperated, but Count Lairdgren, who looked like a tiny version of Tor now, clapped Tim on the shoulder.
"If I could have a word? If you're done trying to intimidate your brother for the time being?"
That got Tim to laugh.
"What, I'm supposed to just let things go? I don't think that's going to happen. Not anytime soon." He meant it, but didn't toss a punch at the side of Tor's head, so he was improving, right? Timon didn't even really want to, as disgruntled as he was.
It didn't help that the whole time he was there his brother was reading him. The entire time. That wasn't normal. He wasn't hitting the whole room. Timon could tell that. No, it was focused and hard enough that even a person that wasn't a builder would have noticed it, if only as an uneasy feeling of someone watching them.
It kept up until he was out of the room, even though a mere stone wall or wood door really wasn't enough to stop it, if Tor had wanted to keep going. It was strange. So much so that Tim didn't realize he'd been taken into the back room instead of the hallway. Trice had come along however, as if snubbing Tor for him. Count Lairdgren waved her on, out the far door.
"One minute and I'll sneak you both out of here. I have to cover a few things with Timon that the King missed."
She looked wry, but walked out, since the man was family and probably meant well enough, as far as she knew. As soon as the well carved and very fine looking dark stained and shining door shut, with his wife on the other side, Lairdgren grimaced.
"Tor was reading you."
"No. Not Tor. He'd never do anything that invasive. Why would you even say that?"
"Ha. Very funny. I need you to go and check on Julie White. Soam hasn't been hit that hard so far, which means that there's probably something huge planned for them. Lara always disliked White with a passion. If you go now, you can take Kolb from the school without running into your brother again. You're in a trance?" There was a soft probe, which didn't pick anything up.
"I have been for months. Working all the time, you know."
"Naturally. I'll let that drop in conversation, as for why you resisted Tor so cleanly. That has to have been baffling to him. You're his little brother. It's bad enough that Tiera is doing the same thing all the time, but at least we can sell that as part of her new schooling, to aid her in learning self-control. It's working that way too, which is helpful." The man started to move, but Timon stopped him and dug out an amulet. The one for the containment field around Remy.
After explaining it, he handed it off.
"See if Orange will take care of this? Or her people, I mean. It needs to be dumped into the sun. I think it's well and truly gone, but I sort of promised."
"I see. I'll pass the word, and the body. Anything else?"
Timon snapped his fingers, and smiled.
"I almost for
got... Remy Seventeen admitted to having come here, pretending to be Aunt Connie, several times. It mentioned that she might be suspected of being a spy because of that? I didn't want to mention it in front of everyone, but you know, she probably isn't. Maybe you can tell the needed people?"
"I shall."
Then he was pushed out the door, as if Green saying that he needed to find White was all the information he needed. Hopefully Kolb would know more, since his grandfather wasn't sticking around to share with him, regardless.
The hall was nice, in a fine but plain way. Stone floors of polished marble, wooden walls with sculpture every ten feet on pedestals. There were also a few people, including Trice, who was being pressed back against the wall by a decently tall man that seemed to be about her age. She wasn't trying to get away, as much as eat the bottom half of his face.
She didn't see him standing there either, which meant she was being a bit less than discrete. Finally he let his eyebrows raise, and cleared his throat.
"Are you ready to leave? I don't want to miss the escape window."
At least the man wasn't Tor, which was clear, thanks to the fact that this man was shorter than that, being about six-four or so. Short for a noble. He spun faster than she did, and smiled charmingly.
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm Ridley. Where are we going? I didn't know that I was on tap, but it's not like I'm busy."
"Ridley Dens?" Timon knew the name, from stories, and had seen the man before, but hadn't spoken to him really. He'd been at the wedding though.
"Yes." He stopped and sighed. "Sorry Trice, I guess duty calls. Finally. I've been cooling my heels here for months, trying to find something to do. I'm probably off to scrub pots in the kitchen, but it beats doing nothing. It's amazing, but dunning Smythe of Westend actually gets almost nothing done."
Timon looked at the slightly foppish seeming fellow and worked things out. He'd been kissing Trice, but there was no bulge in the front of his pants. Since his wife was rather attractive, that meant something else was going on. Since Trice was being groomed as the new spymaster for Noram, and Ridley Dens who was a Baron First, meaning not all that highly placed, was at the palace he was almost certainly a spy.
Timon shrugged.
"Well, he knows who's who, doesn't he? By virtue of being around long enough, if Headmaster Hardgrove didn't tell him personally, just to make things hard for you."
That got the man to stop suddenly and go still. He looked scared.
Trice however, covered her mouth and laughed a bit.
"Ridley, this is Timon Baker, my husband?"
That got the man to stare for a bit and then shake his head slowly. For a long time he didn't say anything at all. When he did it was slightly teasing.
"Wonderful Trice, let's have your husband catch us in the hallway. That won't end with me buried outside the city. Not at all."He looked at her and rolled his eyes then hit his head with an empty hand. "Oh, I know, why don't I go and make out with his sister too? Then his whole family can come for me at once. It will be like a reunion! For them I mean."
Tim snorted a bit, but managed a wink.
"Well, go check in then. We have something to do. I'll let you know what it is en-route." He was looking at Ridley, since he had sort of volunteered, if by mistake. Then Tim gave Trice a hug. "You too. You might be needed." It was just true, but that got her eyes to go wide.
Ridley blinked and looked at Trice hard enough that it was clear who he was supposed to check in with, at the Capital.
Trice giggled again and hit Timon on the arm lightly. It was both playful seeming and a signal, even though it wasn't anything they'd ever worked out together before.
"You and your famous jealousy, Tim." She turned to Ridley and made a silly face. "He's just teasing. If you went he'd probably fly us out over the ocean and threaten to dump us, but he's all bark. Don't worry."
He was? She might want to ask Remy Seventeen about that. Or any of the nearly million people that he'd let get the Gray plague and nearly die of it, or the near hundred thousand who had for certain. Then, Trice knew about all that and more, so she wasn't really trying to make him seem weak, just get Ridley out of trouble? That or not let him go off mission.
"Bah, you know me too well. Come on anyway, I was just going to introduce him to Smythe, and see if he has a place. You know, getting coffee or sweeping up. Something important like that?"
Ridley hadn't been at the meeting, but that wasn't a big shock. No one sane would have been in the room if they could help it. A third of the Counts and Countesses in there were still technically in rebellion, he was almost positive, unless that had changed while he was gone. Still, a big enough threat had brought them together, hadn't it?
For some reason that got Ridley to seem far too happy.
"Really? You've met him before? I can't even get in to see him."
"Yeah, but let's hurry, so I can keep my wife safe from you, at least in public." He glared at Trice a little, but couldn't actually be bothered to feel hurt. Yes, they were married, but it was still a bit strange to him. They'd spent a lot more time apart than together, so of course she was going to be off with her other friends doing things. It was what nobles did anyway.
Timon didn't have a perfect memory, but he knew where to find Smythe of Westend's rooms, which doubled as his office and if he hadn't, Trice did. He was practically "Uncle William" after all. That would explain why Ridley was trying to pass info to her in a public space too, if he wanted an introduction for whatever reason.
Tapping on the door politely got the man to look up, blink and wave them in.
"Lord Baker. Patricia. It's good to see you both. I heard that you came in last night, Lord Baker. From space, without bothering to use a ship? Countess Baker was rather boasting about it to me earlier, since the new shields are all capable of it? We weren't informed, but it will no doubt increase the value." He made a bit of a face, but bowed to them, including Ridley.
They bowed back, all going lower than the older man did.
Timon still wasn't going to ask. Trice would know what the Lord Baker thing was about, and no doubt it was going to end up being embarrassing.
Gesturing to his left while looking straight at the Military Counselor, Tim made the introduction.
"This man is Ridley Dens. Baron First. He's a spy, but one of ours and he's supposed to be infiltrating your offices for some reason. Ridley, if you need real answers from Smythe, slap a Truth amulet on him. In private however. He knows things we don't need shared with the enemy. Smythe, can you find something for him to do around here? Investigations, or servicing Army personnel that don't have enough coin for their leave? Whatever comes up." It was a tad mean, but Smythe looked at the younger man and simply gave a single curt nod.
"I have some space. Can you take notes?"
Rather than hit Timon, which would have been what he expected, Ridley nodded rapidly.
"Yes, Sir. I can write fifty words a minute using script hand and have a Fast Craft as well as one of the new communications devices. A class seven shield as well. Sir."
Timon didn't wait, just handing him one of the new ones, and then dug in his pocket for the last of them he had on him and gave it to Smythe, since they were friends, after a fashion.
Smythe looked at it hard and then gave a long and slightly pained look as he jiggled the tile in his fingers.
"So, is this a bribe to place a spy in the Palace?"
"That? Haven't you heard, I just gave away three million of them not fifteen minutes ago. They're practically worthless now. I might as well try to bribe you with a cup of coffee from the kitchens here. It would be worth more, actually. And I'm not really certain that isn't just the truth." It would save the man a walk to the hallway to call for it too.
The big silver haired man looked at him with deep brown eyes and smiled.
"Well, in that case, thank you for thinking of us. So, Ridley Dens. When can you begin?"
"Oh, just as soon as yo
u pass an in depth truth scan, Sir. We know where your loyalties lay, but perhaps we could cover who you've been in contact with over the last few months? There are some questions. About the loyalties of some that you may not think to question?"
That got another laugh, as Trice pushed him toward the door, and then faked a chuckle as she pulled him outside. They left her little blue Taman-Carriage, and he waited, expecting her to scream at him for being a pain in the ass. He had been, so he could own it. She didn't say anything at all though.
"Damn." It was a low and muttered thing that came about five minutes into their ride home. "Ridley's been trying to get in there for a month. Of course his value as a spy is compromised now, but he's in place. Openly too, which means that Uncle William will be more likely to trust him. Don't expose my people like that in the future though, please. Not everyone is Smythe of Westend." She shook her long loose curls and looked smug. "And it was closer to two million shields. Still, more than the world has ever had before. Half the Counts and Countesses actually called for Uncle Richard to step down, to put you in his place. That was why Aunt Connie was so freaked out. If you'd asked right then, it probably would have happened."
It made sense, really. If he could do that once, making all those helpful items, then it made sense that he'd do it again. Especially if it was for his own land.
"Nothing against Richard or Alphonse, but if you have a choice, only a fool would take that job."
"I know. Trust me when I say that. Did you know about the King thing then? It wasn't just a few voices you know. I wasn't going to mention it, since, honestly I didn't really know which way you'd jump, know that you can come back. If it weren't for this war with the Ancients I'd say we should go on a vacation. Maybe to Soam? I hear it's really pretty there. We saw so little of it when we went last time." She sounded wistful and genuine. Almost so perfectly that Timon read her field to make sure she didn't know the actual plan, which she didn't.
It was just happenstance.
