by P. S. Power
He just let his chin come up a bit.
"Yes. It wasn't a fast thing however. Over the course of about two hundred years he, and I, worked to change the genetic shape of the kingdom. He felt that too much strife had come about due to people wanting to be free, and go their own way. So he used ourselves as a pattern, making a less numerically large, but physically and mentally powerful over-class, and a much more numerous , but physically smaller and less talented underclass. It started to go wrong almost immediately though. That was his madness. He couldn't see how warped the situation was. People with too much power abuse it. Not absolutely, but so much that the world changed into something harder than it was before." Tapping the table he went silent again, and made solid visual contact. Their brown eyes locked, the man clearly thinking he was going to be taken to task for his part in those events.
Except that Cordes filled in the blanks, tossing the information out. They'd been friends, but their natural predilections made Cordes the leader and Burks his follower, in all things. If the Ancient King had mentioned to Green that they should change the populous of Noram, there would be little to no hesitation on his part. There functionally couldn't have been. It was what a genetic slave was.
It probably even made sense at the time, since memories flashed suddenly, showing him the horrible wars and constant battles they'd gone through, every town mayor or bandit chief eventually trying to get more than they had, tearing everything slowly apart. So Cordes supposed that the idea had been to fix it. Not that he knew for certain.
Tor muttered it all out loud, sounding almost like he was dreaming, even to his own ears, but Burks agreed instantly.
"It was very much like that. So we changed the genetics, making the vast majority of the kingdom more or less in my image. Not as intelligent, but bright enough. Not as pale, since the face of the world had changed already, and that would be noticed. Smaller. The most important part was that they'd have the same tractability that you and I share. Not as intensely so, since the idea wasn't to create an army of brainwashed killers for anyone, but enough that it turned them into what we see today. People that can't quite rule themselves. To that end the others were created. The Nobles. Giants, like Cordes, with his combat rage and command abilities in place. As you might have guessed, that was where the real problem came from."
The man didn't so much as blink as he watched Tor, who thought he could see the point, to tell the truth. Too many people in charge meant fighting and scrabbling for position and rank. Tor could never see how that was important at all, but if the desire for it was built in...
"That's where the government came from then? The winners of the wars that followed?"
"Oh, no... Cordes had always liked old stories with Kings and Queens. It was all his idea. I just managed to get it stabilized. After a while. When I ruled here as King, no one would listen to me. We'd made that virtually impossible after all. So I had to do one more bit of tampering of my own. I found one of Cordes' children, since he had several at the time, and created a genetic pattern within him that would breed true. It was a simple pheromone response. Not a sexual attractant, but a command one. It meant that everyone in the Cordes royal line would, from that point on, respond to me, as if I were their leader. I should have simply started a campaign to do further alterations, but the truth is, I didn't think it could be done without greater damage. I doubt my programming, the Rhetistics, would allow it. Not on my own." Then he smiled, even though it didn't seem happy. More brittle and slightly sour than anything else.
It made sense.
"And I have that same scent, or whatever. But it conflicts with the... whatever Cordes put in them to make the nobles not see the underclass as people? Was that on purpose? It really seems like that should have been kind of obvious, as far as mistakes go."
"Heh. It was supposed to simply be a sense of protection, a desire to seek the best for those under them, but Cordes did the work himself and for all his other skills, of which he was a true master, genetics had always been more of a hobby for him, to that point. I didn't catch it either, until it was too late. Though, yes. You have the same effect on the royal family. Not Constance, clearly, but Ricky and his children all think of you as being of higher station than they are. It's a subtle thing, but if you went to the King and ordered him from his throne, he'd leave. Your friend Alphones would as well. Even Kedrin, for all the fool is trying to take over, would do what you told him. Didn't you notice how easily he fell into line the last time you met, even after you assaulted him? If nothing else my life would have been easier if I'd slipped that into the rest of the noble class. Well, live and learn."
That explained a lot. Even in his own life he'd seen the effects, on all sides. The King deferred to him, a simple kid from the backwoods, as if he were an equal, and did it most of the time. The man was always ready to bow or grovel to him too, even though he flatly refused to do it with his other subjects, no matter how high ranking. The rest of the nobles looked down on Tor though, to greater or lesser degrees. It was only those that knew him well that bothered to think of him as a real person.
He blinked several times and nodded, getting it all finally.
"So, these changes Doris is making, you knew nothing about them, did you? She's of a different line, probably a command line... Like White? They don't look the same, but there's something there... You probably have to do what she tells you to, right?"
The man shrugged.
"Not exactly. Over the course of years I've learned to resist such things, but it takes effort and constant attention when anyone too large or producing the right signals is around. You might be able to do it faster than I did, since you know about it, but for the time being it's clear that you'll remain susceptible for a long time. It's why I had to break up you and Ducharina Morgan. She's a wonderful girl, but not beyond the desire to take power for herself, if she had the right tools. Anyone that has control over you would have all they needed that way. It's why, after you finish making a space fleet for us all, you'll have to give up magic."
He held up his right hand, but didn't go on, since Tor just started nodding.
"I know. At least as anything more than a secret hobby. It's what you do, isn't it? For a while I thought I was just a better builder than you were. Not much, but still, I was coming out with all those things, and you never seemed to. Then that fake Truth amulet you made was so bad that I thought it meant you just weren't very skilled. It isn't true though, is it? You don't need me to make that space craft at all. You could just do it. Probably faster than I could even." Tor read the man as closely as possible, which he clearly noticed, but Green didn't bother trying to hide anything. Not even a little.
"Of course I'm more skilled in that than you are Tor. I've had thousands of years to practice, and I made good use of that time. I have to admit your new copying technique is pretty sharp though. I had to make the Truth amulet that way so that you'd know, someday at least, that I wasn't trying to fool you personally. I might lie to you, but I won't waste it on small things. That would be stupid. I'll tell you this though, you're better than I was at nearly two thousand years old. Part of that is simply that I went first, but you've done some new work as well. The copying, and making those large magical houses for instance." He smiled again and shrugged. "And now, after the current situation is fixed, you'll need to stop, or the whole world will be unbalanced by your actions. We could have weathered the new devices, coming out a few per year perhaps, for the better part of several centuries. Your new technique though... You made nearly a million complex devices in days. Even that one act might unbalance us all. Several of your magical constructs could do it in the end."
He started to list them off, but it was, Tor knew, almost everything he made.
It was rude but he waved a hand for silence and broke in.
"Have I done that already? The flying carriages and transports, better fishing boats... Rivers that pass through the air taking water to places nature didn't see fit to put
it."
It almost crushed him in that moment, thinking about it all, but the old man didn't seem to think that was true at all. Not yet.
"The world can use a bit of changing. New plants growing won't harm that much. It changes things, but unless you insist on doing the whole world at once, you can keep track of it all. So, have any clue as to what you'll do next? Move to the country perhaps, and be a farmer?" This time there was a joke in the words, but Tor didn't rise to it, actually thinking instead.
"I was thinking of being a baker actually. Someplace decently large. I can't hide from the world, even if I stop doing magic. Not that I will be for a while. I'll... really, I have some slack, don't I? I can keep the people I have deals with in gear and make new things occasionally too, as long as I hold back the ones that might change the world too much? Like my new planetary liquefier, which would make the ground into a fine powder, and destroy all life?" Tor's smile was as forced as the one on the Count's face, but after a moment he licked his lips to wet them and then stood.
"You know, I really thought I'd be in for more of a fight over all of this. I think my early memories of myself show me in a feistier light than the reality must have been. If I was anything like you then I was a sensible and reliable sort of person after all, instead of the spoiled brat I thought I was. To answer your question, yes. You have time for a full career. I'd hold off on making millions of devices. Farm your copy work out to the Lairdgren Group instead. It will take a long time for a few thousand extra devices a month to actually change things a lot. Once things spread out a bit. This current war is going to be a slaughter though, on both sides."
That was a thing that Tor was going to need explained. He looked at the Ancient, waiting for some almost unheard of wisdom, but got a sigh instead.
"Think Tor, it's why you have a brain. You've let yourself get mentally lazy in some ways. You don't have my Rhetistics anymore, so you need to learn new skills. If all the nobles, who tend to be aggressive and hold peasants in low esteem have your work they can't harm each other directly. So what will they do? What did Tiera do in County Morris?"
"She only damaged property. Took down businesses and houses... Except she views people as people, not livestock or something like a simple tool... Gods." It was plain, now that it had been pointed out. There wasn't a lot he could do about it either.
"Indeed. It hasn't happened yet, and might not. The best possible result here is to end the rebellion quickly. In the end of this, a Cordes must sit on the throne. When I was King things weren't stable at all, as I mentioned. You'd do no better. Short of altering all the people of this land we can't fix it and the most likely outcome of trying to do that directly would be another mass dying. Cordes and I ended up with a quarter of all our people being slaughtered. It was why I broke away from myself enough to go to the others with the situation. He was a very persuasive man, in his time." There was just a hint of longing in the words, but no explanation of them.
Since it would probably just make him uneasy to hear anyway, Tor decided to skip asking about it.
"Also... Tor, I know this might seem a strange request, but would you stay out of direct battle? I'd rather not have you die before you have a chance to take over from me. You're the only one that can do it. I had hopes for Dan, but the Cordes line doesn't respond to him at all. They do to you. They might to Timon as well, which is frightening. Keep an eye on him will you? Tiera too? They're not half as bad as they might be, having been raised in a good situation for humility and all that, but they have their flaws too. At some point, both of them might well decide that they, personally, are the most fit to rule this land, not you or I."
Tor stood, hearing that the conversation was clearly about to come to an end.
"So... They're my family. I don't want you to kill them. Given that though, why haven't you already? If they might try to take over someday."
The Ancient being in front of him rose so smoothly it hardly seemed like he did it at all, and flowed around the table, to stand less than three feet from his grandson.
"Because Tor, someday we might need them to. If we can't fix Noram, someone else will have to. It's getting worse. Natural selection has caused the strongest to breed, and the most docile to allow themselves to be steered into relationships to produce children. If we can't start something to fix this soon, we may not have a choice but to let one of the others take over and do with brutality what you and I simply cannot imagine."
Cordes could though. It involved killing more than half the population and starting over, probably with a singular genetic line. For what it was worth, the Ancient King let leak into his head that he thought the strongest chance of it working was for Timon and Tiera to work together.
Which would be the bloodiest reign the world had seen in thousands of years.
Tor decided to see if they could avoid that one.
He had more questions, but like always, they didn't come. Not until they got to the top of the stairs, the last one of which creaked as the weight of his foot hit it, Burks three steps down.
"Do you know who put a copy of Cordes in my head then? It had to be done when I was born... The midwife, or maybe..." He stopped and rolled his eyes then frowned hard, not liking the idea at all.
"Or my mother." Using his brain, since he'd been told to and it made sense, even if he was probably being more than a bit slavey doing it, Tor worked it all out, speaking as he did. "The only way that would work would be if Gray put in a Rhetistic set of herself into ma, like the one I have of Cordes. That doesn't explain why, not really, since I doubt the woman would have fallen for the command line crap like we have to. That or Blue, doing something similar. Crud." He was thinking stronger words, but then quieted his mind enough to feel Burks, who seemed to be holding the same basic opinion. It was Gray.
It had always been.
The man just shook his head then though.
"Don't speak of it outside this space. Everything can be heard and if that's correct, then you, in particular, as well as myself, have been being watched. Probably for years." Without warning, he reached past Tor and turned the door knob, ending the conversation.
As if Tor couldn't just push him back in? That would be rude though and he really didn't have a clue what to say. Also as tempting as it would be to go slightly insane about then, it wouldn't aid him in any way. If he was right, his mother was also Gray, in mind as well as body.
That was...
Hard to buy. His mother wasn't a warm and comfy person, but she wasn't an evil witch either... Gray always was. At least around him. Tor pushed the Count back for real, his hand coming out on its own. Or, more likely, thanks to Cordes, who came forward then.
He spoke out loud, but at least bothered to ask permission this time, which was a pleasant change-up.
"Tor, may I have a few words with Green? My memories are somewhat different than your own on the topic you were postulating. It might clear things up."
"Um... Sure. Do it."
He stood a bit straighter suddenly and closed the door firmly.
"Green, this is Cordes. Is it possibly that your daughter was given a full Rhetistic set as Tor suspects? If it was the Gray personality that should have shown through, even if she tried to hide it. The woman was never that fond of men for instance. I seem to remember hearing that she wouldn't allow a boy child to come to term either." It was clear, given that factor, his mother couldn't be Gray, even mentally. It was a reassuring idea that made him feel more than a little bit better about the whole thing. He had a lot of brothers after all, and Gray just couldn't have stood for that. He was about to walk out again, except Burks had to ruin the happy moment by speaking.
"A modified set could do the trick. Changing a handful of external mannerisms would be enough. A true copy of a mind is a huge set of information to put in anyway, but what if that wasn't the intent at all? You're a limited view into the Cordes consciousness that I knew, for instance. A few hundred years in a life that was nearly eight hundred
in the end. What if Gray took out certain attributes... Allowing herself to have boys for instance. To deal with men more easily? That might explain it. I always wrote Laurie's behavior off as a simple dislike of me, for sending her away to protect her, but what if it was deeper than that?"
They kept speaking for a long time, just standing on the top step going back and forth. Tor tried to keep up, but got lost in places. The main point, he realized, was that his mother could have been co-opted at an early age by Gray and no one would have thought twice about it. Just like Tor, even though he was basically Green, had a different basic personality. His life was different, so it only made sense.
Then Cordes walked out, with Green following him and almost immediately gave control back to Tor. Meaning that he couldn't ask a lot of questions at all.
He didn't even try.
"I need to get back to the school then and see to things there. Then work all night and see about making some amulet deliveries before noon, so I can get back to see about my apprentices. It's likely to be a long day. Do you think I should get Richard in on it?" For all the world it sounded like that was what they'd been talking about. Tor was a little proud of that, since subterfuge wasn't a skill of his really.
"Let him know, of course, but I think you'd need Smythe in on this one. If the man has the time. There's a war on, so a letter or something may be the best he can do. Perhaps suggesting that they support you in this? If you can't do that, then make certain you can fight your way out. Just in case."
Tor stuck out his tongue, but took the man's meaning. They might not be all that interested in listening to him, not on his own. His best bet then would be to take in someone high ranking, and large. A title wouldn't hurt either. Luckily he knew some people like that, didn't he?
Being careful of the greenery again, the low bushes around the house and ground plants taking up most of the space, Tor took off quickly. It was just after nine, so if he hurried he could be back before everyone was in bed. Then he'd just do a bit of copy work and put out a few dozen different types of things for sale. Easy.
