The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising

by Margaret Gregory

  Chapter 19 - Defence Plans

  During the four days since the mutants had come to the estate, Tymos and Kryslie rarely saw their father. He was up before dawn and returned late.

  One morning before breakfast, Kryslie thought to ask Tanya if she knew where he was.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Tanya admitted. “He is trying to help the mutants and find out what they know.”

  Tanya, who was rearranging some of the tapestry cushions, shuddered. “I know it is his duty to help them, but they hate anyone with Royal Power. They blame us for their being like they are – hideous, outcast, and unstable. Anyway, they are in the isolation building, in rooms as well appointed as our own but they still refuse to cooperate. There are things Ty won’t tell me. It is probably that he doesn’t wish to upset me…oomph.”

  “What’s wrong?” Tymos asked in mild alarm.

  “This child seems to kick much harder when you two are around.”

  “Really? Can I feel him?”

  Tanya put Tymos’s hand on her skirt where the kicking was fiercest. A grin spread across his face as the kicking centred on where his hand was. Then Tymos felt the touch of his sister’s mind, even as she directed a thought at the unborn child.

  “Don’t be too impatient to be born, little one, stay there, rest, grow big and strong.”

  Tymos felt then, a formless awareness. He glanced at Kryslie, who nodded. The child was aware of them. Tymos sent the feeling of love and acceptance.

  “Prince Tymos.”

  “Princess Kryslie.”

  The two children turned from Tanya to see their attendants and the two security men assigned to guard them. Tymos seemed to ignore the latter as he met the gaze of his attendant.

  “What is it Morov?”

  “You and Princess Kryslie are required to attend an emergency session of the Council.”

  Tymos felt a shiver of premonition. He had no need to ask if his sister had too.

  “Will our teachers this morning be advised of our commitment?”

  “They are aware of the meeting,” Morov confirmed.

  Even though they were well able to transmit themselves to the conference room, Tymos and Kryslie were still restricted from using their transmitters and so allowed their attendants to take them there. The attendants and guards withdrew as Aldiv, the High King’s attendant, called for the attention of all in the room.

  The Governors sat at the head of the table, all the other attendees found seats according the protocol of rank. Closest to the Governor’s were the Elders, grey haired men and women, then the senior government officials and their deputies, the palace departmental leaders and their assistants and finally any of the children of the Governor’s who were available to attend.

  The group settled with remarkable speed, the quiet babble of voices stilled, as Professor Xyron rose to speak. His eldest son was standing by to operate the data projector. His words caught the attention of every one in the room.

  “Our scout patrol has found evidence that an alien ship landed in the mountains and departed again. Artefacts of alien origin were found in sector 72. Whilst searching for any aliens that stayed on our world, the patrol located a colony of mutants and captured those who tried to ambush them.”

  Tymoros continued the report. “Questioning of the mutants has provided little useful information. However, we are certain that not all the aliens left our world. It is also certain that the aliens and the mutants are allies, which means that all the people on our world are in danger.”

  One of the Elders stood, and received a nod to speak.

  “The Elders of Tymorea have been granted a vision of a great conflict to come. The alien influence is very clear and it is clear to us that we must win back the loyalty of the mutants. With their aid, the aliens can work by subterfuge to weaken us and destroy our defences and safe guards thus endangering all people common and royalty alike.”

  The Elder sat down and Reslic stood.

  “We have a plan of action, and everyone here has a role to play. The Tymorean Peace Corps will be taking messages to all district leaders. The leaders are to pass the message to all the towns and villages in their jurisdiction. They are to look out for strangers or strange activity and report any instances to their leaders who will report to us. The leaders will have orders to activate the civilian militia, and will have the task of apprehending anyone caught in acts of sabotage…”

  The President detailed the entire plan and finally came to the evacuation plan for the royal estate. Each Department head, received a copy of the plan, to read and memorise. They were referred to one of Reslic’s deputies if they had questions. The palace senior staff had their roles explained to them and were instructed to ensure all their subordinates understood them. These people departed, and the President outlined the duties of the estate security in the event of an attack.

  Finally, he turned to the youngest attendees.

  The final matter for discussion involved the safety of all the estate personnel particularly the Royal Children should an invasion be imminent.

  “As children of the Governors, you will be responsible for all the younger children and their attendants. In the event of an invasion, your duty is to lead them all to safety in the city of Dira.”

  “How do we get there,” Harron, Xyron’s fourth son, asked.

  “You will be taught to operate the long range transmitter beam,” Xyron assured him. “Gann, if you would?”

  Gann beckoned the younger students and then led them down passages and stairs to the lowest level of Xyron’s Palace. He took them into a room where the floor had a circular tile mosaic, with the design of the Triumvirate Governors of Tymorea. He went over to a metal cabinet and opened the door.

  “This is a long range beam generator,” Gann began in a bored tone. “This unit is only activated when needing to travel between here and the main unit below.”

  He pushed buttons and a glowing terminus of mauve light appeared above the tile mosaic.

  “That is the terminus of the long-range beam. It is currently set to take people down to the level of the tunnels. Jacen will go first. All you do is walk into the terminus and use your transmitter.”

  Jacen, who was another level alpha student, grinned and transported away.

  “The rest of you go one by one,” Gann stated. He watched and followed the last of the younger students.

  When the group was all assembled again, Gann continued his teaching monotone. The purple beam terminus disappeared. They had arrived on a mosaic design that was identical to the one in the room above.

  The most obvious features of the circular chamber where the group had reassembled, was the sealed rock wall with three circular openings. A machine pointed at one of them.

  “This is also a long range beam generator,” Gann went on. “It is kept in stand-by mode, so that people can use it to travel to the two nearest cities or to the farmlands. It runs on electricity, which is stored in batteries charged by wind or solar power. This unit swivels to face the direction you wish to go. If you wanted to, you could walk along the tunnels to the cities.”

  “What if there’s a rock fall?” Harron asked.

  “There never has been!” Gann said flatly. “But the beam will work through a certain amount of matter – more than your transmitter will.”

  “How do you turn it on?” Tymos asked.

  Gann showed them the start up switch and the switch to go from standby to full operation.

  “Here is the switch that lets you choose between Reva, Dira and the farmlands. Therefore, when you see the beam has settled to purple, it is ready to use. All you do is place yourself and anyone or anything you are taking with you in the path of the beam and activate your own transmitter. You will materialise on a similar pad at the other end.”

  Kryslie looked around and saw on the floor, three circular tile mosaics, smaller than the one in the room above. One was at the opening of each of the tunnels and when she walked to see them, s
he saw that each had a different design. One showed a rocket, one a temple and the third a bundle of wheat. The colour of the tiles in the outer circles here where blue, when the one above had a frame of yellow tiles.

  “That’s all there is to it. To go beyond those towns, you reset the next generator to the next destination and repeat the procedure. Of course, you are not allowed to try it – except if directed. We’ll go back up now.”

  Gann hit a switch on the generator and the beam terminus aimed at the farmlands disappeared. He pushed another button and another purple terminus appeared.

  “That switch remotely activates the unit above. Come on. Jacen, go first.”

  Tymos and Kryslie returned to the Conference Room just as the meeting was dispersing. They were happy to let Aldiv transmit them back to their father’s suite.

  Tymoros had requested lunch for them but both stared at the plate of food in front of them.

  “Is there something wrong?” Tymoros asked, seeing that their attention wasn’t on eating.

  “It isn’t the food,” Kryslie answered absently. “My stomach feels tense, that’s all.”

  “There is no immediate danger,” Tymoros assured her, thinking their problem was due to the reports they had heard.

  Tymos grimaced, and went pale. “My stomach feels like it wants to burst.”

  Tymoros gestured to Aldiv, just as he felt a tremor shaking the room, and the pictures rattling on the wall.

  “Have a medic attend us here and find out what caused that tremor.”

  Aldiv nodded and transmitted away.

  “I’m feeling better now,” Tymos said. He also had colour back in his face. “Perhaps all that talk of war did scare me.”

  “I’ll have the medic check you anyway,” Tymoros said.

  “Father,” Kryslie spoke up. “Have there been wars here before?”

  “In the past, yes.”

  “What caused them?”

  “Generally, they were rooted in the unstable generations.”

  “The mutants?” Tymos queried.

  “Common people tainted and mutated by our power, yes. In the past, they banded together and turned against all with Royal power and all those untainted.”

  “Could that be happening again?” Tymos persisted.

  “We are investigating that possibility.”

  “What about wars with an alien enemy,” Kryslie said slowly. “Culture against culture?”

  “Our people have mediated in wars on many worlds,” Tymoros began slowly. “We work to bring peace between different cultures on individual worlds. We do it because, in our history, such a war nearly destroyed us.”

  “Tell us?” Tymos asked. He and Kryslie looked intently at their father.

  “It was a very long time ago, in the early days of our power. Tymoreans were young in wisdom and some of were weak and sought power over others. Those ones warped tribes of commoners into mindless slaves to serve their ends. Others, with different ideals, tried to stop and undo the damage. Many died. Those that believed they should serve the people triumphed eventually, guided by the wisdom of the Guardians of Peace. That was indeed a war of conflicting cultures and ideals.”

  Tymoros watched the closed expressions on the faces of his children as they thought over what he had told them.

  “Children, what are you thinking?”

  Both young faces turned to him.

  Kryslie answered. “Father, you have told us that our people serve the Guardians of Peace. Is that knowledge widely known?”

  Tymoros answered carefully. “On most worlds we work without fanfare, with our missionaries blending into the local population. Worlds where we have a formal envoy, know we prefer peace.”

  “It occurred to us,” Tymos spoke then, “that the aliens, came here by stealth, and so are not planning peaceful contact. We have seen aerial photo’s of the world and even if we have no large spaceports, there are places where a ship could land, openly, and not damage the ecology.”

  “That’s true,” Tymoros agreed.

  “So if they are intending ill to us, is it because they want revenge for some wrong they believe we’ve done them, or because they believe that if they conquer us, the universe will fall at their feet?”

  “Or do they simply want our land, wealth or people?” Kryslie finished.

  “The Elders, as you heard today, have foreseen conflict. All the details are not clear, except the need to protect all our people, Royal and common.”

  “I had the strangest sensation today,” Kryslie revealed suddenly. “It came on me when the Elder mentioned the aliens working by stealth…”

  She stopped speaking.

  “Tell me,” Tymoros urged.

  “It’s happening again,” Tymos interrupted, grimacing and going pale, with his hands gripping the chair arms.

  Kryslie shoved her chair back from the table and was suddenly sick. Once again, the room trembled. She wiped her mouth and flopped back in the chair. Delia came over and handed her a drink. Then she went off and returned with a servant to clean up the mess.

  “I felt sick this morning too, but not as bad as this,” Kryslie finally felt able to say. “My mouth felt dry, like I had not had a drink for days. My face kept going hot and cold, then itchy as if there was a wind blowing sand on it.”

  “And I,” Tymos went on. “I felt my stomach bloat, like now, but it eased when I shivered. I felt breezes on my face too, and for a few instants, I thought I was hallucinating.”

  The medic arrived and bowed to the High King.

  Tymoros gesture for him to examine his children. He stood and walked to a chair where he sat and considered what his children had said. His instincts told him not to dismiss the matter. It was not impossible that this was a vision from the Guardians.

  “Sire?” the medic interrupted the High King’s meditation.

  “I can find nothing physically wrong with either of them. I suggest rest.”

  Tymoros nodded and dismissed the man.

  Delia took Kryslie off to clean up, and she returned wearing one of Tanya’s spare over robes.

  Looking apologetic, she came and sat on the arm of Tymoros’s chair. Tymos sat on the other side.

  “I will tell the Elders of your experience,” Tymoros told them. “Perhaps they can explain the sensations you felt.”

  “We are only children,” Kryslie protested.

  “Visions of truth are not limited to the old,” Tymoros advised.

  Aldiv returned and bowed to the High King. “Sire, the tremors were from a ground quake centred near Basiq.”

  Tymoros nodded. “Find out what assistance is needed in Basiq and the towns around there – then dispatch a unit of the Peace Corps with any supplies that are needed.”

  Kryslie had gone pale again. A snippet of a geography lesson came into her mind.

  “Father – isn’t there a major water storage basin near Basiq?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could that quake have been caused by the aliens? If they destroy our moisture reserves, they would weaken us,” Kryslie suggested.

  “And what if they poison our soil so our crops die? Such damage could go unnoticed for a long time. And the culprits could be long gone when we discover it.” Tymos added, speaking rapidly.

  “I’ll speak to Xyron. He can have his scientists visit different areas to check for such damage. When I go on my tour to the cities, I will warn the leaders to look out for odd occurrences. But is there something else that you fear?”

  Kryslie blurted, “Can you be sure there is no weakness in our ranks? Why were those who weakened in the beginning, not disempowered?”

  Tymoros betrayed his surprise by the widening of his eyes. How had his daughter known that all but forgotten fact?

  “This world was once their world too!” Tymos added urgently.

  Tymoros had a sudden premonition of his own. Could it be that the exiles were now returning?

  The idea stirred a feeling of dread. Such an enemy, so gene
tically close to the Tymorean race, would be hard to detect.

  “You can be sure of the people on the Estate,” Tymoros assured his children. “We are ever alert for signs of weakness and we are aware of the susceptibility of the young and untrained to alien influences. That is why we have the curfew.”

  “Yes, father,” Tymos acknowledged, respecting the wisdom, even though the uneasiness persisted. “Goodnight, father.”

  Tymoros watched his son depart, but when his daughter stayed, he wondered why.

  “Kryslie? You still seem worried.”

  Kryslie laid her head on her father’s shoulder. “I trust your wisdom, Father, but I am still uneasy. I don’t know why. Perhaps I am just tired.”

  Tymoros shook his head slightly.

  “I trust your instincts,” he said surprising Kryslie. “While I am away, I will meditate. Even the faintest suspicion of weakness in our line – I do not take lightly. Yet I trust the Guardians to guide us and grant us the wisdom to survive this trouble. We just have to think clearly and use our gifts to the fullest.”

  Kryslie nodded, satisfied for the moment.

  “Goodnight, Father.”