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

by Power, P. S.

"Magic." It was the only answer he had that would work, after all. Instead of asking what that meant, Green grunted again and cut the line. It was either that the man thought he had a good and workable idea, or he just didn't think anything would be enough at all. If so, he was wrong.

  Timon stood and waved to the others, holding his right hand out blankly to Trice.

  "We need to arrange passage to the Ranford. The rest of you should stay here. It isn't going to be interesting or fun at all. I have some building projects to see to." The way it came out, so drab and soft it sounded almost like he didn't expect to survive the work. He had to however. They had so many problems that if he didn't, the whole world might just end.

  So no pressure or anything.

  He waited for responses from the others in the room, but out of all of them only Sherri seemed to get it, the rest being too busy with their own tasks. She moved across the space and hugged him close.

  "I'm scared, Tim. I don't know what to do." There was a plea in the tone, with her asking him to fix it all, or at least make her feel better about it.

  She was just looking for him to hold her, and possibly tell her it would be all right, which it wouldn't. Except that they could still survive, if they tried hard enough.

  "I'll handle some of it. I need you to get ready, and work the new people, that irregular army of Austrans and whoever else comes for it, into a force that can move things into place when I have them ready. We have to feed a big part of the world. Get with..." It took a second for him to work out that no one was really going to be in charge of that at all. So he didn't say anything for a moment. "Alphonse. Get with Prince Alphonse and tell him that in a month we need to have a distribution network for millions of pounds of food. Millions of tons or more, set up and ready to go. Use the Fast Transport system and co-opt what you need." He started to turn away, only to find the sandy blonde girl that was dressed like a warrior holding his arm. He couldn't feel it at all, as deep as he was.

  "Tim... I can't just start ordering people around like that. Or just tell the Prince what to do... I-"

  Timon nodded and took her communications device from the pocket she kept it in. The move was familiar, and should have at least had them giggling at the closeness of it, but neither of them made a sound as the slick leather touched his fingers. It was hard to get it out, but he did it and hit the sigil for the Prince about ten seconds later. It took time to find it. The list was long after all.

  "Cordes here." The man sounded a lot stronger today than when Trice had been discussing the death of their friend, which was the last time he'd heard him. He was even using his last name, like a military man, which had to mean something important. His voice was deeper and more like a commander's than anything. Timon didn't bother copying it.

  "Alphonse. Tim Baker here. I'll have food in a month. For everyone, I hope. We need a distribution network. I already assigned Sherri Bonner to run it. Get with Smythe, and make sure she has a military rank that will make people listen to her. I'll be working."

  The man was well within his rights to snap at Tim for taking all those liberties, but instead he acted like it had been the plan the whole time. Probably just relieved that someone sounded like they knew what they were doing.

  "Good. I'll make that happen. Food, shields, and weapons, in that order Tim. We need enough... For everyone. We can't pay for it." There was a sad tone to the words, which was explained a few seconds later. "I... We would have gotten Tor to do it, before, if he could. Don't die, doing this. Not if you don't have to. I can't believe that Tor is a traitor."

  That had to be stopped, since it wasn't the truth and trance state or not, it was his brother being badmouthed.

  "He isn't. Cordes isn't even. Remember that, since we may get Tor back." He couldn't add more, in case they were being listened to, somehow.

  "Yes. Thank you, Lord Baker. I'll pass the word. Sherri? Sherilyn Bonner, isn't it? Baronetta?"

  "Right. I'll have her go to the Flight Base later. She has her own Fast Craft."

  "Oh? Good. Is she available? We should talk."

  "Here." Then after shoving her communications device back into her hands, Timon walked out of the room, pausing only to pull his wife up. They needed to go and boring or not, he wasn't leaving her vulnerable to attack. Green might be right, and the others might have all been hiding, but he wasn't going to trust in the guess of someone else. Not now.

  It took hours for them to get to the Ranford, and he started working as soon as materials were brought to him. It took more focus than he'd ever used before, for anything, but he had what he needed, to get things started, done in the time he'd set.

  When he opened his eyes finally, he was alone in total darkness. For a moment he wondered if he'd gone blind, a thought that didn't affect him at all. Then he looked under his shirt, and saw the glow of various amulets. He had a shield on, as well as clothing and one of his older, non-glowing, healing amulets. Tapping the etched sigil helped his strength return, after a few hours. When he got to the hallway, the door vanishing with a touch on the wall, it was bustling with activity.

  He saw fifteen people walking around, seeming as if they had places to go. Without waiting he reached out and touched a small, very dark, woman on the shoulder. She was in black, and it seemed like a military uniform, like what the others all wore. Except him. He was in brown.

  Timon saw the kinky short hair and facial features common to Afrak and spoke in that language, which made her eyes pop open. Probably because it was unexpected, rather than his horrible accent.

  "I have magical devices that need to be taken to the planet. Can you help me find who's needed for that?"

  She looked at him blankly for a while, and then tilted her head, which was an Afrak nod, he thought, rather than her just trying to be cute or looking perplexed.

  "Yes, this is a thing that can be done. Which planet?" She smiled, her teeth looking very white, which was a trait of her people. It was the contrast with the dark of their skin, he knew.

  "Both. Mainly to Earth however."

  That had to be the second planet she meant, the moon, which meant the colony would be almost ready, he hoped. That worked, since he was prepared for that too.

  She ran off, so he went to shower, which was warm, but cut off after a minute, to save on resources. There was a count down on the wall, so he managed not to be covered with soap when it happened. That was a very advanced use of the ship, he knew, but guessed that some Austran genius had figured out how to make it happen. It had that kind of feel to the display that had appeared on the wall.

  He didn't shave, though he needed to, the mirror let him know, his face covered with black hair that was longer than he thought it would be. It had, he was almost certain, only been a month.

  When he walked out of the bathroom, still nude, the compartment was filled with people, all of them loading out pallets of crates, taking things away. He wasn't the tallest person in the room, since there were a few Noble giants, but he was close, he noticed. He was at least as tall as most of the Austran men.

  Timon didn't bother to feel embarrassed, even as a few people stared at him. He just made some clothing appear, choosing a version of court clothing, which made him stand out a bit. He had to resize the outfit, since he was very thin now, but they worked. He had boots on and everything by the time that Trice came in, along with Judith Kerry, who was back to her orange cuffed black Captain's outfit.

  "Timon! You came back to us. We were afraid... Well, you know." Trice kissed him, and then laughed when Judy ducked in and did the same, at least as well. Timon didn't really react to either one of them, merely nodding as they stood back, their eyes looking slightly amused, rather than hurt. They both had to know what a trance looked like.

  "Food." He pointed lazily at the crates, and then let the chattering women take him away to a large room with a ship in it. It was another space vessel, and it had to be moved outside, joining with the Ranford as it grew, so it would be large enough for ev
eryone that was going. It took about half an hour for that, and longer for the thing to be loaded, since his quarters were on the other side of the ship. After that they were down on the planet, near the large black and red city that his brother owned. Wildlands Station.

  The place was vast now. Easily the size of the Capital itself. It also had activity, most of which was military, more or less. He could see children, some of whom had to be younger than his brother Terry, fighting with grown adult men, hand to hand. One of the adults, a giant that looked familiar, backhanded a tiny form with a blow that took the child off his feet. Instead of whimpering and holding his half crushed face, the boy rolled, and came back at the man. This happened ten times while Timon watched, and didn't end until a group of about twenty youngsters jumped in, and pulled the giant down. It was like a swarm of insects, but the giant still had to eventually yield. They were really hitting him too, not just playing.

  "Good! That took you all too long to figure out. Terry, healing amulet. We aren't done here."

  That got Tim to focus on the now healing boy, who was, indeed his brother. That explained why he'd been thinking about him, no doubt. Good. He knew him.

  "We have to be done for a bit. I think that's Timon." His brother, who was still as tiny as ever, scampered over and stuck his hand out to shake, like a man. He returned it and looked at him.

  "Terry. I have devices. Set up the first class of people that need to use them. Then I need Sherri Bonner here, as soon as possible." It wasn't exactly a loving hello, but the boy didn't flinch or bother to clean the blood, his own, from the front of his training tunic either.

  "On it! Everyone gather round. Emergency! At Emergency stations. This isn't a drill. I repeat, this isn't a drill!" His shrill voice was echoed by everyone that heard it, and people actually ran into place as he grabbed the first crate of things and held up the tiny amulet, no bigger than his thumb and pointed to the single green sigil there.

  When everyone could see it, then moved back and pressed it down. His intent turning it on, and that made the strange looking thing appear. It looked like two travel trunks set side by side, with a taller one in the middle. Touching the side he made it grow. When it was the size of a nice cottage, he waited, and then made it shrink to a more manageable size. That was just so everyone would get what it could do. Then, walking carefully to the left side of the thing, which was closer to the size of a large cow now, he tapped a single sigil and looked at the people with him.

  "I need a shovel?"

  He got an earth moving device, which would, he realized, work even better. Then, again without saying anything, he started to fill one side of the thing, the chest like portion being filled with a stream of red dirt that filled it after a few minutes. When that happened he tapped the same sigil again, which seemed to make the dirt vanish and reappear on the other side.

  As fine white powder.

  "Wheat flour. It can make that, beef steaks, apples, potatoes and sugar. It can also turn dirt or rock into water, or air. That shouldn't be needed here. These sigils..." He pointed, his voice calm and his words economical. Then Sherri ran out of the crowd, went over it all herself, and had people doing that one by one. They made food, and it was pulled away, but the cases were being taken as well. He could see the system to it, and the girl was clearly in charge, like was planned.

  She didn't stop to act impressed even, which was fine. Most of the people around him were thinner than they should have been, so it was clear he'd gotten this done just in time.

  It would be enough, as long as they shared.

  There were new shield units and weapons too, so he waved Terry over, not bothering to wonder why he was there, and got some of the bigger people to pull those cases to the side.

  "Terry will handle this part. Get shields to everyone. Weapons... well, use your best discretion, like always." He didn't know who was in charge of the place, but it wasn't going to be the eight year old. Or, well, he was nine by now, right? That was old enough, but Baron Havar looked skeptical about the idea.

  "Why exactly would a young orphan boy be given control of those?"

  That sent a line of fear through him, one that showed that his control really wasn't what it needed to be yet, Timon realized, but Terry waved that idea away.

  "I lied. I'm not an orphan. I just ran away from home to join the military. Ma wouldn't hear of me doing that, but I had to."

  Ah. Tim nodded back.

  To Havar, who was over seven feet tall, he shrugged.

  "My younger brother. He also can fly and handle a fast craft. I hear he can make copies of magics too. If you aren't having him teach those subjects, you're wasting a resource." Then he walked away. His brother was in charge of his own life after all.

  Yes, he was a child, but a quarter of the people around him were. Some of the people flying out with crates behind them couldn't be much older than Terry was. It occurred to him that Terry would have to be nearly ten, not nine. He'd lost a lot of time, sitting in the dark, over the last months.

  Trice was standing behind him, but stopped to give Terry a hug and say something to him, before jogging to catch up.

  "I told him to get in touch with his mother. She'll be worried. We should probably send him home, but..."

  Timon kept walking, but forced himself to speak.

  "And what? He isn't any safer there than here. Not now. What we should do is load them all up and take them to the colony, as soon as it's ready. I didn't ask, is that coming along?"

  His wife smiled and nodded.

  "Deshi, Willa and Monroe are getting that around pretty well. From what I hear, if you have food and water that will work there, then we can start moving bodies in by the end of the month. We should visit people while we're here, and get caught up with everything. There haven't been any new attacks. Everyone seems to think the enemy is in hiding. Tiera is..."

  She stopped talking and didn't start until no one else was close to them. Then she whispered.

  "Tiera told me that she's put together a hunting group, with Alice and a few of the Ancients. They're trying to find the underground bases. When they do, they plan to kill them all. I've asked to be in on the attack squad for it." She looked like she was going to get defensive, or as if she thought that he'd say no.

  "I love you." She was his wife and that was the right thing to say, though she stiffened, meaning he had to go on. "So of course you can go and kill all the bad people, if you want. I'll go too. I have a lot more to do. I... I'm not even half good enough to save Tor yet. There may not be a way to make it work." He felt horrible even suggesting it, since he'd promised, but it was the truth.

  Trice hugged him and looked at the far wall of the city, her arms around him protectively.

  "Can anyone?"

  Timon didn't really think so, but he did something that he was actually normally good at, putting a little effort into it.

  He lied, and took back his words almost instantly.

  "Yes. I'm not good enough yet, but if I can improve enough, it's possible. The technique itself will work. I just need to be able to focus, while working on several different things at once. I'm going to practice like I have been, but by doing more." It was all he had to try. His voice sounded confident though, which was a good thing.

  After all, in the end, it would work, or it wouldn't. If he failed, well, at that level of involvement, given what he had to do, failure at least didn't mean that Tor would be taken over by Cordes completely. He'd just die. They both probably would.

  That part didn't get said though. He had almost five months left to improve after all. There were enough devices to get food and water to the world now, and the colony, which meant they just needed weapons and the ability to fight, if it came to it.

  Then, as odd as it sounded, his sister was going to hunt down the people that had endangered them all, and they would kill them. Together, or alone.

  That was the one thing he knew for certain in all of this. One way or the other, Gray and Cor
des would be gone. Even if they all had to die to make that happen.

  Because now that humanity had a chance to survive, the only thing holding him back from killing every immortal on the planet was the slim hope that he and his family might live through this thing. The problem there was that, in trying to do that, he might very well get everyone else killed at the same time.

  It was a horrible feeling knowing that. The smart thing would be to get Gerent to kill them all, or take back the device and do it himself. But love made a coward of him. That and hope.

  Taking his wife's hand, noticing that he was nearly the same size she was now, he walked back to the ship.

  To go home.

  Off in the stars.