Chapter 8 - Small Lyceum
Tymos and Kryslie arrived at the beam in point for the small lyceum, accompanied by their attendants. They knew to vacate the tiled circle to free it up for the next arrivals. When they walked into the assembly area, it was to become the focus of over sixty pairs of eyes. Most of those present were aged between ten and thirteen, two looked older. The youngest ones were under the eyes of a female servant wearing blue skirt and shirt.
“Where do we go now?” Kryslie asked Delia as she casually looked around the circular area. The walls were decorated with maps and pictures of vehicles and animals. Several windows gave views of the gardens - with buildings showing above the trees.
“The children go in when the time chime goes for nine,” Delia explained. “You are to wait for Governor Xyron. I expect he will take you in with him.”
“We are the tallest here,” Tymos murmured, self-consciously.
“Not quite, and not the oldest either, Prince Tymos,” Morov murmured after glancing around. “I would have expected one or two here to have been apprenticed by now.”
One of those two older looking boys sauntered over.
“Zacary,” Morov greeted brusquely.
“They’ve got you baby sitting commoners, have they, Morov?” Zacary gave the two new students a dismissive head to toe glance. They were both dressed as casually, and neatly, as most of the other students.
Tymos saw Morov’s fists clench and spoke before his attendant could produce a retort. “I wouldn’t be here if that was all I was. We came from off world. Is that why you are here too?”
The boy’s face reddened, but he claimed, “No, I am due to go off with my parents soon.”
He strode away as the chimes marked the hour, and joined the queue of students entering the inner room using a second beam in point. He glanced back and his eyes narrowed as he saw Governor Xyron arrive and walk towards the new students.
“We will be back for you at lunchtime,” Delia said quickly, just before bowing in greeting to Governor Xyron.
Tymos and Kryslie copied the gesture, aware of their ignorance of the correct protocol.
“I will take you in and introduce you to your tutor,” Xyron said brusquely.
When they arrived in the oval shaped lyceum, the other students were already at work, separated into smaller groups by movable partitions.
“You will be working down the end at the terminals. Niklas will oversee your study program and will have your lesson schedule,” Xyron explained, walking briskly down the central passage, and expecting Tymos and Kryslie to follow.
With a minimum of fuss, Niklas took charge, bowed respectfully to Xyron, and the Governor strode off to do a round of visiting each class.
“I have assigned each of you a computer terminal,” Niklas told them. “Have you used one before?”
“No sir,” Kryslie admitted.
Tymos shook his head. “I’ve heard of them.”
From the next terminal over, Zacary smirked in their direction. Niklas didn’t notice as he began to instruct his new students in the basics of computer use, directed them to a language program and told them to get to work.
“If you two provincials need any help, just ask,” Zacary offered.
“That is kind of you, thank you,” Kryslie said, since she was the nearest to him.
“What’s your name?” Zacary asked, in a muted voice when Niklas was not close enough to hear.
“Krys. My brother is Tym.” Kryslie decided that there was no point in mentioning their titles, and in truth, she was still uncomfortable with being called, ‘Princess’.
“You related to the Governor then?” Zacary asked.
“Governor Tymoros, yes,” Kryslie admitted. “He is fostering us.”
“Your parents are missionaries then?”
“I expect so. We don’t remember them,” Kryslie admitted, but didn’t mention why.
“You don’t have the red hair of his line. You must be a few generations removed.”
Kryslie shrugged, and was glad to see Niklas returning. She heard Tym mutter, “He’s going to find trouble if he keeps distracting us.”
They had peace for a while until Niklas walked away again. Zacary stood up, stretched, and casually walked to see what they were doing.
“Language lessons? You really are yokels aren’t you?” he commented.
Kryslie hid a sigh and asked with apparent innocence, “What’s a xylanthrocite?”
She received the distinct impression that Zacary didn’t know.
“That? It’s basic – look it up on the compedia. That way you will remember it for next time.”
Kryslie winked at Tymos and said politely, “Yes, we have heard that a few times already.”
Zacary went back to his work, and Kryslie went back to working through an extensive scientific glossary of terms. She was working from the end to the start and Tymos had started at the beginning.
An hour after starting work, they were interrupted by Rowan, one of Xyron’s cousins. He was teaching them about the process of transmitting themselves from place to place.
For this second lesson, he took them to a vacant alcove and continued to drill them in the locations of every beam in position on the estate, and he insisted they learn these by heart. When he was satisfied with their recall, he had them calculating distance and direction between two locations by mental arithmetic.
They now knew that there was three ways to use transmitters. The first was to input the code for one of the permanent beam in points, second was to calculate distance and direction for a line of sight transmission, and the third was by having a vivid picture of the intended destination. This last method could only be used by people with a high level of power. Rowan expressly forbid them to try it.
So far, they hadn’t been allowed to transmit themselves, but that day, Rowan handed each of them a small device, made of metal and shaped to fit comfortably into the palm of the hand. It had a tiny screen, a touch pad and three tiny lights. One light turned from red to green when they had held it for a while. Rowan drew their attention to it.
“That means that the unit is charged and ready to use. It requires Royal power to operate. The stronger your power, the faster it operates. However, the unit’s maximum power is only enough to move one person and only within the Royal Estate.”
For the moment, Tymos and Kryslie accepted his statement; both were keen to try using the transmitter.
“Now, safety rules,” Rowan stated. He met their eyes to be sure they were listening. “It is preferred that you transmit to and from the standard beam in points. We have safeguards installed there to prevent accidents.”
“Like two people trying to arrive at the same time?” Tymos asked, seeing the potential for that.
“Exactly.” Rowan nodded, looking pleased with them. “What usually happens is that the device creates a force field around you, so if you arrive at the same time as another, you slide apart. We amplify the effect at the beam in points.”
Rowan saw comprehension on his student’s faces.
“When you intend to transmit line of sight, or from anywhere other than a beam in point, you move away from other people first and don’t aim to arrive in the middle of a group. If you try to transmit too close to someone, the transmission will fail, and you risk harm to the other person. If you arrive in the middle of a group, you won’t have room to re-materialise, and prolonging the process will make you ill and risk giving injury to those in the group. Backflow trauma is not pleasant. In theory, you should be able to sense the force field and know to move out of the way.”
Both Tymos and Kryslie had questions about the science behind the transmitters, but decided to ask them later because they wanted to try the process for themselves.
“I’ll take you to the beam in point in the main hall and we will practice from there,” Rowan directed.
Once there he asked, “You have both been moved this way a great deal – have you ever felt odd durin
g the transfer?”
Tymos’s “no” echoed Kryslie’s “never.”
“Good, but we will take this slowly. Moving yourself is different because it uses your own inner power and some people cannot tolerate it. I will try this with each of you in turn. We will transmit from here to the beam in point in your father’s palace. You know it, I believe?”
Two nods.
“Prince Tymos, you first.”
Kryslie waited, alone, as first Tymos and then Rowan blinked out of her sight. She barely had long enough to realise that she was completely alone for the first time that she could remember, when her twin returned followed by Rowan.
“Wow!” Tymos said. His eyes were alight with excitement.
“How do you feel?” Rowan asked him.
“Great.”
“Any nausea, blurred vision, headache?”
“No.”
“Excellent. Your turn Princess Kryslie. To your father’s palace.”
Kryslie set her device to the location after the green light came on, moved into the tiled circle and activated her device. She felt the familiar tingling sensation, was aware of a very bright light, and then saw the familiar sight of the entrance hall of her father’s palace.
“Back again,” Rowan directed, and Kryslie complied.
On her return, she told her twin, “Wow indeed.” She had to answer the same questions as her twin.
“That’s enough for today,” Rowan told them, putting his hands out for the devices. “We will practice more tomorrow. I will take you back inside. And you can show me where each beam in point is on a map of the estate.”
Rowan brought up a map on Tymos’s terminal, and began quizzing them. When he asked for details of the area around each location, neither Tymos nor Kryslie could answer. He looked back at them thoughtfully. “You have been here, what…three months? Have they not appointed a mentor to show you around?”
Tymos shrugged. “We’ve had lots of basic stuff to learn.”
His casual statement was enough of an explanation, since they had only just started learning to use a transmitter.
“I will find out what can be done. You need to be able to visualise each beam in point…so you can practice that technique.”
“I thought you said…” Tymos began. He intended to say that Rowan had forbidden them to visualise, but Zacary interrupted.
“I could be their mentor, Master Rowan.”
Rowan’s face betrayed a brief flash of annoyance, which might have been for Zacary’s rudeness.
“I will pass on your offer, Zacary, but it not my decision to make. It is likely an older student will be selected.”
When Rowan was well away, Zacary scowled.
“It was kind of you to offer,” Kryslie thanked him politely, but he just turned back to his terminal.
Nikolas strode back. “We have a short break now. There are mid-morning drinks and snacks out in the assembly hall. Zacary and Tobias can show you the routine. Do you wish me to take you out?”
“Yes thank you,” Kryslie agreed.
Zacary nudged Tobias, who had been engrossed in his computer all morning. The dark haired boy finally noticed the new students.
“Hi,” was all he said before going to transmit to the assembly hall.
Once there, Zacary explained the set up very tersely and went to help himself to food.
By the end of the break, Tymos had confirmed his initial impression of Zacary.
“Arrogant bully,” Tymos murmured to Krys. He is bigger than all the others and just pushes them out of the way.”
“And ignores the teachers telling him to be gentle,” Kryslie added. “He doesn’t belong here.”
“Neither do we,” Tymos reminded her. “But it is our fault for being late starters. I wonder what his problem is.”
“Tobias is deaf, which may be part of the reason he is there. But Morov was surprised to see him. I guess they must still expect those two to…grow up.”
“I wonder if everyone does grow up,” Kryslie commented idly. There were so many things she wanted to know.
Zacary smirked when Morov and Delia arrived to take Tymos and Kryslie to their lunch. He muttered loudly, so that Morov could hear it, “Baby sitter.”
Delia murmured, “Ignore him, Morov, he’s nothing.”
“But he is being disrespectful to Prince Tymos and…”
Tymos decided to say, “You know and we know, that we are not retarded, backward rustics. What he thinks does not matter. We just ignore him. If he doesn’t know who we are, just think how he will look when he does.”
Delia chuckled and Morov began to grin.
“Your lunch is waiting in your apartments,” Delia advised Tymos and Kryslie. “And before you return, you will need to change into something more suitable for exercise.”
Accepting the advice, Tymos and Kryslie let their attendants take them to their apartments.
Their afternoon exercise group consisted of six other students and they assembled in the garden. Zacary and Tobias were there, and this did not surprise Tymos or Kryslie.
Their instructor introduced himself as Perrin Reslic and he looked like enough to the President to be a brother. The differences were minor, he had his blond hair cropped very short, and his eyes were brown and not blue. He introduced the new students by name, not rank, to the other children. He pointed to each of the others, all children about twelve years old, and spoke their names.
Tory was a smiling, plain faced girl with reddish blond hair. She stood next to Senna who was very blond and was self-confident and reserved. She called the instructor ‘Uncle’. Josep was a highly active boy that never seemed to stay still. He was dark haired, and the other boy was fair, but seemed shy and earnest. His name was Sacul.
During the afternoon, Tymos noticed that Zacary was noticeably attentive to the lesson, and Perrin Reslic was satisfied with his efforts. Tobias was less interested, but he still tried the exercises. The younger ones were well behaved, did what they were told and were polite to the new members of the class. Tymos did notice that Sacul tended to keep away from Zacary, and had begun to stay nearer himself or Kryslie.
Later, Perrin Reslic dismissed them from the garden. Tymos looked around, but didn’t see their attendants. The brown clad guards were still observing from a short distance away.
“What are we meant to do?” Kryslie asked. “I have no idea where we are in relation to the palace – do you?”
“What you know, I know,” Tymos murmured. “We could ask the other guards. I most definitely don’t want to ask Zacary. He would probably send us off to get lost, and into trouble.”
The object of the discussion was still in sight. He had walked off in the direction of a screen of trees. Later, as they waited, they saw Sacul running from the trees, back towards them.
His eyes were red from crying when Kryslie called to him.
With gentle coaxing, they learnt that Zacary had been teasing him, and not for the first time. The older boy claimed to be doing it so Sacul could learn to tolerate it.
Finally, Kryslie told him, “He is right in saying that you should not let what he says bother you, but he shouldn’t be making you miserable.”
Tymos decided to distract Sacul. “We’re rather new around here. Could you show us the way back to the palace?”
“Where have they put you?” Sacul asked, quickly becoming his usual earnest self.
Kryslie told him and he asked, “Have you seen the Prince and Princess?”
“Um,” Kryslie glanced at her brother. “We’ve been too busy to see any one. What do they look like?”
“Well, they probably have red hair like King Tymoros. All his line do,” Sacul said. “Are your parents missionaries?” Kryslie didn’t want to tell too many lies, and was about to admit to who they were when a cheerful voice called to them. Stenn Reslic trotted into view and came to join them.
“Hi, Sacul, how’s things?” Stenn greeted him. “Have you seen Senna?”
“She left with Tory,” Sacul told him.
“Little pest,” Stenn said with amusement. Then he spoke to Tymos. “So, where are you off to? I haven’t seen either of you for ages.”
“We asked Sacul to show us the way back, since our attendants haven’t shown up,” Tymos explained.
“Well, I think they have found you,” Stenn nodded off to one side. “Haven’t they let you off the leash yet?”
“We’ve a lot to learn,” Kryslie reminded him. “We have to be ready for second stage.”
Stenn gave them both a searching look. “Hey, I know the exercises are important, but don’t they let you have some fun, ever?”
“Father said we shouldn’t be so busy now that we have started at the small lyceum,” Kryslie told him.
“Really?” Stenn said, sounding sceptical. “I don’t even know why they put you in there. The only ones your age still there are thick wits like Tobias and Zacary.”
Stenn turned to Sacul and said conspiratorially, “Don’t you let Zacary try to get my friends in trouble, will you?” He winked at the younger boy as Delia and Morov arrived.
“We’re sorry, Prince Tymos,” Morov began. “We were waiting for you near the small lyceum.”
Sacul’s eyes had grown as wide as possible. Tymos winked at him and said, “It’s a secret. We didn’t want people to think we were thick wits. Zacary doesn’t know, so don’t tell anyone.”
“Has the thick wit being bothering you?” Stenn demanded of Tymos.
“Not really,” Tymos said. “He was more having a go at Morov for babysitting commoners.”
Stenn grinned. “Good camouflage, you having brown hair – but if you ask me, there are glints of red in it now that I didn’t notice when we first met. Anyway, if he gives you trouble you come to me. I will fix him.”
“No need, if he tries then Sacul, Kryslie and I will gang up on him,” Tymos commented.
“Ah, so that’s how it is,” Stenn nodded slowly. “He is clever enough not to be caught out. Do you want me to mention it?”
Sacul drew himself up straight. “I don’t worry about him.”
“Good man,” Stenn commended.
“Lord Stenn, we are expected back for lunch,” Delia interrupted.
“Why can’t we walk back? So we can talk a bit more?” Stenn asked.
“We have our instructions,” Delia told him.
“Too bad,” Stenn said subsiding. “I guess the man and I will have to walk back together.”
The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising Page 8
