Kingdom of Stars (The Young Ancients: Timon Book Three)

by Power, P. S.

  "But... the other lands... shouldn't we help them?"

  Timon felt his bottom lip quiver like a tiny child as tears came to his eyes, but he shook his head firmly and sounded like an adult. For once.

  "No. We can't do anything for them at all. Austra is the only place on the planet that can mobilize their people fast enough to do anything useful. Afrak and Soam will have all their people spread too thin. We-"

  His Aunt Alice was a warrior, above all else, and calm in the face of death, especially when it wasn't hers.

  "I'll get with the Ranford on the shield drop and pick-up. We can just call them. It will be faster that way."

  Ah. He'd forgotten that. It meant that they needed to head for Austra then, as Trice called the students under the water and told them to take the other craft, and get home as fast as they could.

  "Then..." She just sobbed. It came out softly, and no tears fell, but it was as real as crying could get, floating there in space like they were.

  Timon leaned in.

  "Then arm everyone. We're going to find the ones that did this, and kill them all. No mercy. No surrender. We will dig them out of their holes and rip them to shreds, until no bit of them exists to ever do this again."

  It sounded bold at least, and would work, if they could find the Ancients. If he were them, Timon would have been off in space. Hiding. That or deep, deep under the earth. It didn't really matter. He'd find them. Then... Well, after that it didn't matter who killed them, did it? That's what armies were for. Making sure that if you, personally, fell, someone else could take over and get the job done.

  It was rude of him, but he pushed Mags from her seat, and took over directing the ship at speeds that no one sane would have tried to fly them at in atmosphere, and then made the thing grow to the largest size it could. It was a big ship, being about a quarter mile square, and it had twenty levels, and enough room on each for...

  That he didn't know. As many as they could find, he hoped.

  It wouldn't be enough, not even with every ship they had. Not even with every new shield they could drop. If anyone in Austra could even figure out how to turn them on, much less use the new magical devices. Damned if they wouldn't try though. It was a horror, waiting for people to load and then searching for the next collection of people that was big enough to warrant trying to get. If it wasn't close to ten thousand, they didn't stop, even though that meant passing by women and children that stood in the streets and on the tops of their apartment complexes. In the end he had to drop into a deep trance and shut off everything he could, even as the stress of the day made that nearly impossible.

  It didn't totally work. Not at all really, because his focus meant he was reading the fields of... Everything. If he looked at it, or thought about something at all, he connected with it. With them.

  The others went down and got people to climb in, telling them to leave their things behind and save their lives. Timon could hear some of the conversations from other ships over the communications device. It was just open now, even though it wasn't supposed to do that. The demand was breaking the system, it seemed.

  He heard Mags, down below, bellow at someone, who seemed to be a man.

  "No! The children get on first. Leave the dog!"

  The man refused, and from the top window Timon saw them leave, the man and his pet, a small and frightened looking white and brown animal. Walking away from salvation, so that they could die together.

  It wasn't the last thing like that he witnessed that day, and it had to be worse for the rest of them, actually being with the people. He was safe and insulated where he was, even as the Ranford dropped from the sky, slowed and dumped a black mist from the bottom of the craft. That, he understood, was scale getting in the way of perception. The shields were big enough, each one the size of a gold coin, the ship was just that far away.

  Time crawled and rushed all at once, until finally Kolb called to him directly.

  "I see the wave. We need to be above it. Estimated time... three minutes."

  Except that it was going to take longer than that to get everyone on board. This latest crowd was pushing, trying to live, to get to safety. When the wave was about a minute away, rushing at them at a speed he couldn't calculate, people scattered. Small children, some carrying what looked like dolls, were pushed into the sky by their parents. When one flew closer to his window he realized the little boy in front of him wasn't carrying a stuffed animal or rag doll, but a tiny baby. One that couldn't possibly be his sibling, being of a very different look. They were, thankfully, tied together. Both were sobbing, but the little boy managed to gain enough control not to hit the giant ship in front of him at least.

  They had to go higher, because what was coming at them was a wall of water. One so high that what few trees Austra had were vanishing under it in the distance, by a very good ways. It was... Death. No one on the ground was going to survive that, Timon knew. Not without a shield on.

  As he rose he saw an older man grab a small girl. At first he wondered if he were going to harm her, in some crazed fit of rage at his own passing, but it wasn't that. He just slipped something around her neck, and started to yell at her, until she rose in the air, straight up, like a cork in deep water. Then Timon lost sight of the man, the ship itself in the way.

  It wasn't until later, when he was above the wave that washed away half the land below him, that Timon realized that he'd been crying for hours. True, he didn't feel anything, but his eyes leaked, and when the others came back up, he wasn't alone in that. Trice and Mags were doing it too.

  After that, they just hung there in the air, not doing anything for a long time. It was the blue flash that came from his pocket that shook him out of it. Grabbing his communications device, he wondered when they'd started acting normal again.

  "Tim Baker." He sounded exhausted and dead inside. It was accurate, so he went with it.

  "Baker? Ah, the brother. Very good. You'll do then. We noticed that you managed to rescue a few poor souls in Australia? Bravo, but it won't do you any good. We can hit you like this over and over again, and you can't do anything about it. Really you should just give up now, don't you think? Make it easier on everyone?" The voice was new to him, and other than being young and male, only one thing stood out. The tone and accent was Cordes.

  So one of the clones.

  One that was close enough to Tor, or at least Lairdgren school to have a communications device. They weren't wide spread, after all. About one in five of the students at one school had them. True, it might have been stolen from there, but he had no proof of that at all. It did mean he knew where to look next, if he could hide things well enough. Not that seeing what Tor was up to wouldn't be a good plan. He might still be in the Capital though.

  Timon rallied, faking his way through the talk, his voice suddenly cheery enough that people froze and stared at him, as if he were the insane one and not the person on the other end of the device.

  "Ah? Haven't you heard? If you get too close to taking out the rest of us, the plan is to take out the whole planet. The only way you win is if you manage to survive. You won't be winning, even if the rest of us die." That was the Monroe plan, wasn't it?

  It got a chuckle in return.

  "Oh, big words. How are you going to do that? Use your little explosive devices to stir up some dust?"

  Kolb moved in next to him, standing, his face looking more fierce than Timon had ever seen it.

  "We have devices that are the equivalent of ten thousand forty kiloton bombs per hour. All they can do is destroy the world, but if it comes to it, that will be the last thing I do."

  There was silence for a moment, and then a rather happy sound came.

  "Little brother! So good to hear from you. I noticed that you aren't half as savvy as you think, amazingly enough. I've been right there with you, in your own classes, for years now and you never even noticed. Tsk. Very shoddy work on your part. I even have my own face. True, younger than you might recall,
since you weren't alive when I looked like this, but I did keep wondering if you'd pick up on it."

  Kolb clenched his jaw and looked enraged, but only for a half second. Then he smiled. It was a thin lipped sneer really. The kind of thing that Timon thought few really lived through having directed at them.

  "Mitchell?" It was clear that it wasn't a guess really. More a shocked realization.

  "Very good! Now, no need to hurry back, I'm just going to be moving along now anyway. I won't even take any prisoners. You don't really think that Tor's explosive device is still any good, do you? He told me about it. I visit him regularly you know, and have for years. He thinks of me like a brother in fact." The boy, who was probably a man, if a young one, given his being at the school for years, didn't bother to sound smarmy about it. No his tone was just matter of fact.

  Timon rolled his eyes.

  "Well, Terek, I suggest you run. Tor's weapon may not be around, but I can make more. Millions of them if I need to. The only choice you all have is to surrender. Nothing else will save you."

  The Cordes clone snorted.

  "Perhaps, but giving up won't either. Are you really going to destroy the whole world, just because you and some vermin can't live on it? That's hardly sporting of you."

  "I'm hardly sporting at all. To answer your question though, yes. I'll destroy it all, rather than let you have it. I would have thought that your people would have worked that out already. The Larval almost had it, but they failed at the end. It was a flaw in their nature, tainted as they were by madness. But you, you and granny Gray, you know who I am, don't you? What I am?" Tim smiled, his lips moving, but his eyes staying dark and cold.

  Trice touched his shoulder, but didn't speak. There wasn't a lot of use she could say after all.

  Cordes seemed to suck air in between his teeth.

  "No, sorry, I don't think I follow you. Who are you? The Great Unknown factor?"

  Timon laughed.

  "And here you were starting to sound stupid. The Larval almost got the idea, they just missed by a fraction, thinking it was Tor. Remy Seventeen understood it, but you, one of the greatest Kings ever to have lived and my own grandmother, you can't understand it at all. I'm the thing you didn't account for. The end of all life. The end of the very world itself. If you don't surrender now, or at least stop what you're doing, then you all die, and nothing can save you." There was a bit of silence then, but just as the boy on the other end was going to try for a no doubt witty rejoinder, Tim cut him off.

  "No. I am the death of the world. There is no other option. Unless you back off. Is that understood? There will be no further warnings."

  Then he cut the connection with a slap.

  Doris moved to him and gave him a hug, but didn't speak and Kolb patted his shoulder with a large and callused hand. Even Trice didn't say anything which just left Mags.

  "Do you think that will stop them? Some words?"

  Timon shook a bit, trance state or not. It had just been too big of a day. The deaths of all the people he hadn't even tried to help wouldn't hit until later. Probably in his sleep.

  "No, I don't. I don't even think that the fact that I'll do exactly what I just said will stop them. We need to be ready for a real fight now."

  After a bit, Kolb slapped the bulkhead, which only made a light thump.

  "It wouldn't hurt to catch that little pain in the ass Mitchell too. I knew he had too much skill to be that much of a waste all the time. He moved too well, when he wasn't acting like someone had stolen half his brain."

  It wasn't going to happen though. They had to find a place for the people in the ship first. They had a lot. More than he'd figured on, by about ten or twenty times. The thing there was that no one, not even the government of Austra, their own homeland, knew what to do with them. They didn't have a place, and...

  Well, it surprised him, but when it came down to it, the people of Austra opened their own homes to the dispossessed. They were normally more selfish than that. Or he'd thought so. Clearly he owed them all an apology, because when it came to this, every single one of them stepped up instantly. He could do that later though, after they all lived.

  The colony wasn't even close to ready yet, so that was out, as far as extra housing went. It was a shame too, since they were going to need to get as many people to safety as possible, so they didn't lose everyone. It was a crushing thought. The kind of dismal thing that no one really had to consider, or at least they shouldn't ever have to. At any moment they could all die. Worse really, no matter what they did, most would, over the next years, if they didn't figure something out fast.

  The Others had seen to that.

  Timon really wanted to curl up and sleep. There was no way for him to run from it all, and he was really afraid that in the end, he might well end up being something other than a businessman. At the rate he was going, he might end up as the planet's executioner.

  Sucking in a big breath, he called Denno and arranged a place to drop his load of refugees. It took hours, but in the end he stood at the bottom of the stairway that had been created and waved at people, until a group of them gathered round. Then, bellowing, he made a speech. It probably wasn't a very good one, but about ten thousand people held up their hand-helds and took his words and image down. It was just habit for them, he realized. It wasn't good or bad, they simply shared whatever happened, and didn't know what else to do, even in a crisis.

  "As you know, there was an attack off the West coast of this land today. What you may not know is that the lands of Soam and Afrak were hit first. A choice was made, to help you, since we could get word to you in time. There is a cost for this, if you're willing to pay it. A cost that no person has a right to ask of another, but that must be paid, if the world is to survive.

  Any man, woman or child, without regards to age, is asked to join us in finding and punishing the men and women that did this to us. They didn't just kill your friends, your family, or take your world from you in spirit, but in truth. This attack was designed to rip at the very fabric of the world and destroy it, slowly, over the next years. To make it difficult, or perhaps impossible for humanity to continue to exist.

  We can survive this, but only by pulling together. Only by standing side by side and making it happen. If you come with me, I can't promise you ease or comfort. You certainly won't have gold or riches from it. All I can promise you is that spending your life with us in this task will potentially buy the lives of hundreds, or thousands of others.

  If you come with me this day, you may die. I won't lie to you about that. But our very world lie in the balance. So choose well."

  Then he stopped, not certain if anyone would even understand him. The words had flowed from his lips, but it might all have been so much... noise. Honestly he couldn't tell at all. It wasn't until about a minute later, everyone just standing there, that a very old woman, who was probably close to ninety, if she were a day, hobbled to the front of the crowd, and started to climb back into the ship, right then.

  It was probably the shame of being showed up, but almost everyone under thirty started doing the same then, including a group of kids that were handing off little babies to strangers that weren't going. Some of them were barely babies themselves.

  That was literal too, he saw, but Timon didn't send them away. One of those tikes might be the one that saved them all, and he'd be damned if he were going to throw them away for being too young or short.

  They didn't get everyone, but he had a good ten thousand fighters in his ship when he took off. It was Kolb that called him on it, pointing out the obvious.

  "What do you think they can do?"

  "What we all can, of course. Die. Trice, get King Richard on for me, if you can?" He made himself sound polite at least. It was hard at the moment, but he didn't have a lot of choice as to where to take them all. Not if they were going to be armed and given weapons. Food too. They needed a whole lot of that.

  After a while Trice murmured in his ear.


  "I explained, but..."

  "Good. King Richard? I have ten thousand warriors that need training. I'll outfit them, but we need someone to do the work. To teach them. Can I have the men and women from your Flight Training center?"

  "Ah, I..." It wasn't really like that man to hedge and hesitate, but after a moment, there was a harsh female voice. Queen Constance. Timon got ready to be taken to task for what he was planning. A thousand arguments came into his mind even as she spoke the first words.

  "That sounds reasonable. These men and women have lost everything. For us to not take them in now would be... Unconscionable. We'll do whatever we can for them, even if that means putting weapons in their hands, then we will."

  So, for what was about the third time in their shared history, his Aunt was actually on his side. More, this was about the first time she actually seemed to really mean it.

  From further back in the chamber a deep voice rumbled. Count Peterson, Timon thought, given the words. He was the one in charge of the Flight Training school for the Military after all.

  "We stand ready to serve, Sire." The man was simple, in a way. Not dumb, just direct and prone to thinking in black and white. It made him easy to be around, compared to most of the nobles Timon had met.

  He was also the King's son-in-law. The simple words had impact, coming from that source.

  From the back Mags called out, tearing up a little.

  "I'll help train them too, if Tim can get them outfitted, like he said."

  "I can. I have to attend to a few things first, but after that, I'll have them set inside three weeks. Modern shield and weapons. Magical." It was about the worst plan ever, but he'd do it.

  The real problem didn't come until about four hours later, when not only did Mags' ship set down to deliver up a prize of bodies, but ten others did too. It wasn't just a hundred thousand people, but closer to a half million, and they weren't all old or babies either. They all looked scared, or in shock, but there were some that would make good warriors, he thought.