Envoy to Earth

by P. S. Power

  Except that he killed about two thousand people. Some of them wanted the rest of the people dead, but not all had. Many had been brought back from the dead, as clones, because others thought they might be useful, but they hadn't had a choice in the matter. They were innocent victims, some less than six months old, no matter what they looked like, and Gerent had killed them all.

  Other than that though, no one had wanted anything much of him. Even the small bits of life that had been required of him weren't work. He was asked to parties, and given sweets and cakes to test for ladies. Tor had offered to let him have any business he wanted, or even to pay for schooling. As old as he was, and as wasted as that might be, it had been put forward, without pause or hesitation. When Gerent had suggested a silly dream that he'd had once, of having a garden, the man had arranged for him to have access to magics that would have cost more than most counties, so that he could plant trees and bushes in places they had no normal cause to be growing.

  Just like that. He spoke, and the wizard Tor himself acted like it carried weight. Just because someone else had said he was his brother. That person wasn't even Count Lairdgren. The old man, who Gerent had killed with the rest of the Ancients, had been told that he'd adopted him. By Tiera. Before she was anyone, except a schoolgirl. She'd stood in front of the King of the land himself, and said that Gerent, beaten and tiny, who almost no one had ever stood for at all, was her brother, and counted. That he, of all people, mattered to the world.

  It had saved his life, those lies that they'd told the King. He'd been accused of claiming to be a nobleman. Which he'd actually done, so it was likely to the gallows at the time, until Tiera had stamped forward and seemed ready to trade blows with the giant redheaded ruler. Then, as if it were sane, they'd contacted Count Lairdgren, in the middle of the night as he slept, and asked if he, Gerent Nobody, who didn't even have a last name, was his adopted son...

  And he'd said yes.

  Just as easy as that. He could have been anyone in the world, and no one had even vouched for him with the man. He could tell that the situation was bad, just from the words, and the very first thing he did, was see to Gerent's protection.

  Pain ran through his soul then, because even if it had been a claim just to make things a bit better in the moment, the man had never acted as if it were anything less than reality. Even after he died, there were orders left that declared him his true son. Another lie, but if it ever came to it, if the Baker family tried to get rid of him, that would mean they couldn't. Not short of murder.

  Not that they would. Even now, after everything, Tiera offered him ships and aid, just because he'd asked for it. She even invited him to live with her, on her world, and kept that offer open. Just because she was that kind of a person. Better than most, by far.

  He shook and realized what Collette had said beside him.

  "It depends, of course. Gerent, are you planning to get Tim to make you immortal, too? He offered, didn't he? I'm taking him up on it, as soon as the killing plague here fades."

  "Um..." It wasn't as if he hadn't considered it. Both the good and the bad of it. Being young and healthy for hundreds of years wasn't a horrible thing. Being tall now was nice, and having resources made things better too. If he did that though, he'd need to learn things. Magic and reading. Math too. Enough so that if he were ever left without what he had in the moment, he could rebuild. "I'm thinking about it. It's not a horrible offer."

  There was a snort from the back seat, one that sounded wistful, rather than upset.

  "No, it really isn't." Petra tried to sound a bit sulky, but she ruined it by giggling. "I wish I'd been offered that. I probably should have tried to get Tim into bed too, but he was too young for me. Then Trice came along and stole him away. Lucky, but still, a bit creepy. I mean, she could have handled that one better. Ali would have divorced Tor, to save her, if she'd suggested it. Or Todd would have done the same with Countess Thorgood. But no, she wanted the smart one. Not that I blame her. She was a bit desperate at the time, what with the not wanting to die thing."

  That one was real enough. Patty had been given over as a child to an arranged marriage. The problem there was that her betrothed was a monster. Rico Gala was the sort of man that needed to be hunted down and killed in his sleep. His breath stopped by an air stilling device, as a tiny form floated outside his window in the night. Gerent didn't mention that part out loud. Honestly he hadn't figured to survive it. It was planned and done with care, but he really figured that he'd be found out and the midget put to death, for the insane act.

  Patty was already safe then. Married to a man of good prospects, and high position. His brother Tor had even saved the city of Gala once, from a plague. That was why Ger had done it. Even though Gala had hurt him and Patty, as a whole. They deserved better than a monster to lead them. So he ensured that. Dying for it had seemed pretty certain, but he'd flown in, done it in the dark and then flown away. None of the guardsmen that had seen it happen told anyone either. They knew it was needed and kept their own council, he guessed. Not that they knew it was him, for certain, but how many flying midgets were there in the world? There might be one other, and there was a small chance that the men that had seen him had confused him with a lumpy child, but that wasn't too likely.

  It meant a lot to him. Those people had kept their secret, and he thought he knew why. The kind of man that hunted women for sport, to the death, wasn't the sort you wanted in charge of your life.

  Before he could reassure her that Timon was a kind young man that would confer that gift of long life on her too, Collette snorted back, from the front passenger's seat that he'd built in.

  "You're his best friend, Pet. In all the world, possibly the two worlds, Timon Baker has only a very few close friends. That he didn't send for you already is a shock, to be honest. Even if he secretly hated you..." There was teasing then, but the woman sobered. "I heard a rumor that once, when a friend of his had been harmed by a man, that Timon hunted him down and tortured him. That doesn't sound like the kind of person to leave his best friend to die."

  Petra didn't speak then, for a long time. Gerent didn't get it, or know why. It was the curse of being him, he figured. He knew just enough to realize that secret information had been passed, but not nearly enough to work out what it was about. That Tim would torture someone...

  Child or not, the boy simply would. He'd gone in with Tiera and some Royal guards to free Patty and Ger from a Galasian jail once. The same night that Count Lairdgren had adopted him. Or at least claimed that he had.

  So, if someone had hurt one of his friends, Tim would do that. The thing there was that he didn't know who it was. Collette was kind of right, since Timon, for all his intelligence and charm, as well as good looks, managed not to have a lot of close friends. Patty hadn't been that with the boy, and Gerent didn't count back then. That was the last time that would have counted as torture too, what with the beatings and rape. So... Who? Not Collette. She was strong, in a pretty way, but too trusting by far.

  He wanted to ask, but didn't, his voice not working. It was dangerous to show ignorance to nobles. Especially if you were one. Laurali, his sister after a fashion, had told him that early on. It was almost always better to hold your tongue than to admit to being out of the loop. So he did. No one explained for a bit either, until Petra snorted again, this time sounding subdued.

  "That was a pretty piece of work, too. Judy and Tim took William and his top guards, kidnapping them all, and then forced Will to confess to treason. I'd thought that no one could touch him, not even the King. Marvin had been about to declare war on him over it, even after Richard begged him not to, in order to gain purchase on the rebellion. Before he could act, Timon Baker and Judith Kerry, two school kids, or really, Tim wasn't even in school yet, just grabbed him and made him pay for hurting me. Even the King couldn't do that." She sighed, and shifted, which sounded like stretching, complete with little, but pleasant, moans. "Three weeks of beatings, broken bones, cu
tting... well, there was no rape. Thank goodness. That was the only mercy to it. Broken and beaten though. Left covered in all kinds of filth." It sounded wrong, when she said it. Probably because it was a lie.

  Collette looked out the side shield window.

  "It was a mercy then."

  Gerent felt a fine tremor start deep in his gut, a shivering took him, but he managed to hold the craft steady, thanks to the arm rest, and the redesigned control. If they'd been in his other craft they would have been all over the place.

  "Except that it wasn't a mercy, was it? Those men... That kind of thing... They always rape you. Always. If people have power over you, they do what they want, and nothing will stop them." There was a tremor in his voice, one of fear, for this lady behind him. That she might be sent into a rage over his words. Collette looked at him, baffled, but from behind them there was a soft moan. Then a sob.

  "You... yes. We can't tell anyone. Ever. It isn't for me, it's that Marvin will raze County Rodriguez to the ground if he finds out. Even now. Only that lie and the pain that Timon delivered let the matter be considered done. Please, don't... I beg of you..."

  Gerent went still. Really, he didn't know what to do at all, did he? He wasn't like Tim, or Tiera. Brave and willing to sacrifice everything in order to help a friend. Was he?

  He tried to make his voice calm then. Relaxed. He felt scared, as was proper, given what he was thinking of doing, but his life as the lowest of the low had taught him a few things. One of them was how to act brave, when it was called for. No matter how he felt inside.

  "Where is this William now?"

  Collette glanced at him, then went back to Petra, who was still sobbing softly in the back. Her voice was about as calm as his was, if for a different reason.

  "In a cell, at the King's Palace complex. Why? Do you think you're going to fly in there and kill the man? Maybe you could do it, Gerent. But he's already condemned to death. He's been tortured for his crimes, too. What can be done to him already has." She sounded pretty certain of that. Gerent didn't answer her, letting Petra come to herself again, as he spotted the purple glowing river that looped around the top of the Capital city wall. It was impressive during the day, but at night it was a marvel. Behind it, around a second palace that had its own wall, was a silver river. That was Tim's place. Even the King wasn't so outrageous as to have his own floating and glowing river. Worse, the silver one was brighter and the color more even. His actually glowed, where the one Tor made just had lights under it to make it pretty.

  He landed there, since Collette could be comfortable there, but wouldn't be able to get in touch with the King quickly. Not before he did.

  There were some things to see to. Things that, for some really good reasons, Marvin wouldn't be allowed to take care of. Tim and Tor were out of reach, along with the rest of the people that just wouldn't care what the rules were, if their friend had been hurt. That left him to handle it. Little and useless Gerent. No doubt he'd make a hash of it all, but someone had to try, and he was the only one left.

  It was rude, but as Collette managed to get out, he just took off, going straight up, then landing at the palace faster than was allowed normally. They didn't get the shield slapped into place even, though he had no doubt that his ship was trapped inside of the invisible thing by the time he landed, seconds later. On the good side, he realized, as he climbed out, that he hadn't slammed into the ground, leaving a hole. The craft hovered, two feet above the Earth, just like it was supposed to at rest.

  Before he could take a step, he noticed the six high powered weapons trained on him. Men and women in black and purple clothing surrounded him, silently. Like death descending from every direction. Two more hovered above him, using hands free flight units, too. It was clever, though he just glanced at them, and held up his empty hands.

  "I'm Gerent Lairdgren. I mean no harm to the King or his family. I need to see him now. I need to see all of them now, in secret, if possible." Because, as Petra had mentioned, Marvin Ward could never know about what had happened, or an entire county might die.

  No one tried to kill him, but they didn't move either, not for a long time.

  Chapter three

  "Hello, Countier Lairdgren. I don't suppose you'd give us an explanation of your arrival here?" The words were said by a man that was shorter than Gerent. All of the guards were, he realized. That was sort of a new thing to him. All of these people were looking up at him, their eyes bland, and lethal, but also with polite expressions on their face.

  Ger didn't know any of them either. What they were, which was very dangerous and deadly people, ready to kill him if he jumped wrong, but not their names. He'd met a few before, but these weren't them.

  "I can't. But it's very important!" He stressed the words, trying to convey meaning, but no one seemed impressed. Petra hadn't even come out of the little green craft.

  The man that looked to be in his mid-thirties and seemed in charge, being the one in front, didn't sneer at him, or growl angrily, but also didn't move.

  "I see. Well, sir, is it a thing that can't wait for daylight? Secret information that's time sensitive? If so, can you prove that under truth verification?" The tone was polite, and nearly smooth.

  Sighing he looked away.

  "I suppose it can keep, and that the King can have a full night's sleep. I'm a bit worked up, but I can't explain why to you. Please don't ask. I suppose I can come again tomorrow. You know, if I was Tor, I bet you would have let me in." He smiled then, because his voice was just a bit petulant at the end there. Like a real spoiled rich nobleman, instead of a make believe one. "Then, if I was Tor, I'd have to be off planet right now, so all you get is me for the time being. Not the same, I know." He tried for self-depreciating and it worked, since he was good at that one. It had been part of his life for as long as he could remember.

  The man in front bowed, for some reason, then smiled a bit. Not too much, just enough to show that he could understand the idea.

  "Perhaps. Then, if you'd been Tor coming in like this, we might have also started fighting without hesitation. He's not a person to let build into combat. Though standing orders are for us to throw ourselves to the ground and beg for our lives if that ever happens. I'm happy to report that you, sir, seem more reasonable, even if upset. I cannot guarantee anything, but I wish you success in the resolution of your problem. In the morning, you understand? If we let everyone that comes in the night demanding to see King Richard do so, he'd rarely sleep."

  Gerent sighed. "Sorry. I let myself... Right, well, I really can't explain it to you. If you knew, then... Well. I'll leave. Sorry about bothering you all." He really felt it, which came across in his voice, also misery. It was always easier to hurt someone in the heat of anger. Not that he had a lot of experience with that, but some.

  The guard that was speaking bowed again, going deeper than was needed for someone like him, no doubt. Gerent nearly matched it, trying to be polite. He was, after all, the one creating problems. Making an enemy of these people wouldn't go well for him in the long run.

  "I'll have the shield lifted then, sir? Please use only slow landings, when coming in the future?" There was a bit of sternness in that, but Gerent didn't ask why that was. It was one of their rules, that left them feeling better about things, he guessed. Not that moving a Fast Craft slowly meant much. Other than leave the shield up all the time it was obvious that it wouldn't save them if someone were to smash the palace at full speed.

  He carefully didn't point that out. They'd already know it and probably not want him thinking about things like that.

  "Sorry. I'll... Strive to make an appointment, next time."

  "Thank you, Countier Lairdgren." Turning he waved, which after a second had the man standing back. "You may lift now. Goodnight, sir."

  He climbed back into his craft to find a smiling Petra sitting in the front passenger's seat, her eyes not even red anymore. After sealing the door up, he lifted, moving carefully and slowly enough t
hat the friendly man on the ground wouldn't look bad for letting him go. Then he moved away, and landed back at Tim's. The whole thing had taken about two minutes, and Collette wasn't even inside yet. Better than that, she didn't seem angry or anything.

  Amused, slightly, though it was hard to tell that in the dark. It was a feeling more than anything, and a warmth in her words.

  "Back already? I'd expected to hear explosions from the palace by now. What did you think you were going to do, Gerent? Beat the man? Torture him more? Have him raped in retaliation? He was once a sitting Count, taken for treason. The King can't allow anything more harsh than a swift and painless death for him. He's been kept alive for a reason. So that the others of his station won't fear giving over to the King, when they lose. This is about politics now."

  Her words were savvy and probably correct, but Ger grunted, and then placed his hand on the control again, waiting for her to climb into the back. Fast craft were good at moving people quickly, so they were around the city a few minutes later, no one speaking. When he was in front of Tor's grand palace, he stopped, and didn't move for a bit, struggling to think of something to make things better. Anything that would let Petra know that justice was being sought. Without alerting her brother, who would, no doubt, do exactly what she thought he would. Kill everyone he could in that County, to punish them as a group for what a handful had done.