Chapter 11 - Progress
Later, after they had eaten and when their foster father didn’t seem to have duties elsewhere, Kryslie decided to ask some questions that puzzled her.
“Father? Stenn implied that not all Royal Children reach second stage – and I assume that when they do they study in the large lyceum. What happens to those that don’t?”
Tymoros turned his attention to her question.
“You are still concerned about young Zacary?”
Kryslie nodded.
“Are you aware that the power you have is inherited by each generation of Royal Governors?”
Kryslie nodded again, and Tymoros went on, “It is strongest in those who are in the direct line of descent. Apart from the Governors, those who are second rank have or will have the most power. Often though, the younger children in the Governors’ families will be less powerful than their elder siblings. It is not, however, a hard and fast rule.”
“Stenn said Zacary was some kind of cousin,” Tymos prompted.
“Yes,” Tymoros agreed. “But you could say that everyone on the estate is related in some degree. Zacary’s parents were missionaries and minor members of Jono’s family. Those who are furthest from the direct line often only develop to the first stage. Again, there can be exceptions.”
“So what do those people do?” Kryslie asked.
“They are educated to as far as they can go, or want to go, and then trained to perform supportive tasks on the estate – attendants, security personnel, technicians, missionaries and so on down to cooks and other domestic staff. Zacary has been encouraged to choose an area of service to train for. We believed that he might have reached second stage, though perhaps not going as far as level delta.”
Kryslie queried the term.
“The levels in the large lyceum start at level theta, and go up to level alpha,” Tymoros explained.
Kryslie sensed there was more to the concept of level delta, but another realisation caused her to blurt,
“So everyone on the estate has some of this power.”
Tymoros met the eyes of his consort, and murmured, “There are some notable commoners here.” He went on, “Of those who reach second stage, relatively few reach level alpha. All go as far as they can in education, and can train for senior support positions. Those who reach level alpha will eventually become Elders.”
“I assume, by definition, commoners have no trace of our power,” Tymos requested clarification. “Do all Royals, only marry Royals?”
“Yes to the first question, no to the second,” Tymoros told him.
“Tanya said she was common born,” Kryslie reminded her twin. “So, when Royals marry common, the children can receive Royal power?”
Tymoros nodded. “We do not forbid such alliances – but we do have the children monitored. If they have inherited enough power, they come here to be educated, and trained. Mostly they never go past first stage. Some go on to become scholars in the city or achieve high rank amongst the common people.”
“Then what about us?” Tymos asked. “We weren’t even born here. Do all the children of missionaries come here?”
“No, only those who are likely to reach second stage,” Tymoros said carefully. “And that is when both parents are Tymorean.”
“So…Tymoreans can marry people of other worlds?” Kryslie asked. “But people on other worlds can’t all be like us.”
“Indeed not, and producing children is not always possible. When children are conceived from mixed origins, they do not inherit our power, only our intelligence and stamina.”
Tymoros noticed that both Tymos and Kryslie seemed to be distracted, as if trying to comprehend vast vistas of knowledge. He decided to draw their attention back to just one world. “Is there some matter worrying you?”
“Why are we different?” Tymos asked, returning his focus to his foster father. “We came from Earth, we know that. Were our parents missionaries?”
“No,” Tymoros admitted softly. He did not want to say too much, or have them recall too much of their past. “You are of Tymorean descent and human and both of you are exceptions to the rule that crossbreeds do not inherit our power.”
“But why?” Kryslie asked, coming to sit nearer her foster father, on the arm of his chair. “What possible reason is there for us?”
“And how?” Tymos added.
Again, Tymoros considered his thoughts before answering. “The Elders foretold your birth, and your potential, but have not yet seen the reason for it. They have foreseen that you will have a mission on Earth, but not for many years yet.”
He omitted to mention the sense shared by many Elders, of some still clouded danger for his own world, and that his children would be vital to preventing that danger.
“If we were born so far away, how did you find us?” Kryslie asked.
“We have had missionaries on Earth for many years. Do you recall Vincent? He knew what to look for. As for why you are different – I see the hand of the Guardians of Peace in your creation, even if I do not know the reason.”
“I remember you saying that our power comes from them,” Tymos said slowly. “I wonder why they chose Tymoreans to have it.”
Tymoros leant back and spoke reflectively. “Much of our very early history is buried in time. Only the most important facts have been remembered and preserved.”
He felt a stirring of ancient memories in his mind and recalled when he had become High King. All the ancient memories, from all his forebears, had become accessible to him.
“The Guardians of Peace revealed themselves to the first Governors – an alliance of three powerful men who had joined forces to bring peace to this world. They gave those men this power and a trust to maintain peace everywhere. They made our planet a guardian planet. For a thousand years, there was peace, but a time came when there was unrest, uprisings, and friction between many of the ethnic groups. We had by then, begun to spread the message of peace to other worlds, and seek new ones. At that time it was noticed that there was unrest on all the other worlds where Tymoreans had gone.”
Both Tymos and Kryslie were completely intent on what he was saying.
“The Guardians of Peace sent enlightenment to the Elders of the time, as well as sending three men who became known as Great Ones. They helped bring peace here again, and when they finished, they went out into the universe. It became understood, that when there was peace here, there would be peace in the universe.”
“And it has been peaceful since?” Kryslie asked.
Tymoros shook his head. “Nowhere is perfect. Even here, our history reveals many periods of unrest, when genetic mutations occurred and ethnic divisions became rife.”
“Mutations?” Tymos queried.
“What causes them?” Kryslie asked.
“The power we have is a two edged sword,” Tymoros admitted. “In those who originally received it – the power was safe, stable. Their descendents react positively to it, for the most part. Some of our original ethnic groups did not – they reacted negatively, and the mutations began. Some of these were apparent but others were subtle. Over time, the power destroyed all traces of the genetic origin of the people, in all but the Royal lines. However, the power also restored the people to a stable form – the most stable for millennia. Now, amongst the commoners there are no more ethnic divisions. And we, the Governors, have over the centuries, taken our consorts from amongst the common people, to minimise divisions between commoners and Royalty.”
Tymoros watched as his children thought over what he had said. He could not decide exactly what they were considering, but their next questions surprised him with their innate intuition.
“Does a negative reaction only create mutations?” Tymos asked.
“Or is it to create a mental state that goes against the idea of peace and equality?” Kryslie added.
“It is both,” Tymoros told them. “That is why we train our children so carefully.”
“How though, wou
ld one with power cause a negative reaction?” Tymos asked. “Like when the early Governors affected people?”
“It is something that happens, and even now we cannot say what stimulates a negative reaction,” Tymoros told them.
“Could this have happened to people on Earth? People who contacted us?” Kryslie asked abruptly.
Tymoros tensed, like feeling the shiver of a premonition.
“As I said, we have had missionaries on Earth for many years. The human genome has a naturally neutral reaction to our power. You and Tymos were not the result of our power affecting you.”
Tymos murmured, “Who are the Guardians of Peace that granted Tymoreans this power, the ones who you think helped create us.”
“We only know of them as a race of very powerful, very wise beings of the utmost integrity,” Tymoros explained. “In both of you, they gave me a gift beyond price.”
As he hoped, Kryslie and Tymos were distracted from thinking on the highly philosophical matters that bordered on religious faith. They each came closer and gave him an embrace to reassure him of their commitment to and affection for him.
“Such things are for times when we can meditate on them. What ever is in your future will wait. For now, what is of supreme importance is for you to be ready for second stage.”
With quiet voices of acknowledgement, Tymos and Kryslie left their father to his own thoughts. They made their goodnights to Tanya, who had stayed quiet listening and stitching tiny flowers around the edge of a small white blanket, and separated to go to their temporary rooms in the suite.
For the next week, even though Delia and Morov were back attending them, Tymos and Kryslie continued to have a personal security guard transmit them to classes. Although this made it seem to some that they were ‘grounded’ – they knew it was for their protection even if not knowing what ‘danger’ might affect them. They did not want to act without thought and be the cause of more worry for their foster father.
On their arrival on that particular day, when they were expecting their normal routine, they arrived in the small lyceum to see Xyron waiting near a small table, and speaking to the children as they bowed and passed.
His attendant, standing nearby, spotted their arrival and moved out to look at them. His slight bow in their direction was as clear as an invitation. Xyron was waiting for them.
Their casual stance became formal, and the recent lessons in the rules of etiquette from Nolan, their tutor of the past five evenings, came to mind, and were almost instinctive now.
They were wearing casual, loose fitting clothes, but now they walked like they were wearing their formal outfits.
No matter how little they felt they deserved their rank as Heir Designates, it was expected that they would be respectful towards their elders and respectful of those who looked up to them. They were expected to present themselves properly – always calm, always dignified except when relaxing privately. On his first day as their tutor, Nolan had not spared his comments in pointing out their deficiencies, phrased as, “Stubbornly bordering on the edge of respect and in danger of falling into a pit of disrespect.”
Tymos and Kryslie had changed their walk to a controlled stride, and to a discerning eye, they were perfectly in step with each other as they stopped two paces from Governor Xyron and bowed properly.
Xyron chose not to be extremely formal, and smiled in approval. “It is good to see you both behaving in a civilised manner, befitting your rank,” he remarked.
He observed the faint flush on both faces. “I have advised Niklas not to expect you immediately as I have a duty for you to perform.”
Tymos and Kryslie both had the same sense of mingled curiosity and excitement, and firmly resisted glancing at each other to confirm it.
“Sir, we aren’t dressed for an official duty,” Tymos apologised.
“Yes, so I suggest that you rectify that deficiency and return before half past the hour. Go on!” Xyron’s voice was stern but his eyes twinkled.
Tymos and Kryslie bowed in unison, and turned to return to direct their escorts, walking in the controlled stride.
Their attendants had their formal clothes ready when they returned to their temporary rooms , and efficiently helped them change, fixed their hair, added the crystal pendants given to them at their coming out, and led them back out into the main room of the suite.
The assembly room was deserted when they returned, feeling a little self-conscious. They checked the time display on the wall and decided they should wait there until Xyron returned. It was not a long wait, he materialised with his attendant after using the time to visit all the classes again in his role as coordinator of education. He returned to the table to where a wooden box now sat, and took two smaller alloy boxes from it.
“Come,” he directed. He looked with approval as they walked, stopped at the correct distance away, bowed in the correct degree, and stood straight with hands clasped behind them.
“Relax for now,” he invited. “I will have you presenting transmitters to the new class of youngsters. I believe that having you here for this will emphasise the importance of today.”
Tymos thought to himself, “Now we are no longer hidden away.”
He saw Kryslie flash a look at him and seemed to hear, “Making use of our new notoriety.”
They returned their attention to Xyron to hear him saying, “…and because you have recently learned to use a transmitter yourselves, you will be able to impress on the youngsters the responsibility they have been given.”
Xyron gestured them closer, and took a device out of each of the alloy boxes. He handed one to Tymos and the other to Kryslie.
“I know I don’t have to advise you to use them carefully, but I will stress that they have been calibrated for you, and should not be used by anyone else.”
“Is there a particular reason, Sir?” Tymos asked, as he took a belt of gold fabric covered leather from Xyron.
“Yes, but you can worry about the theory behind the transmitters when you move up to the large lyceum,” Xyron told them. “They are designed to hook onto a belt.”
Xyron waited for them to attach the device and secure the belt before continuing. He took another device out of each of the boxes. Neither Tymos nor Kryslie had seen anything like them.
“You won’t have seen them before,” Xyron confirmed. “That is because my eldest children and those of Jono are all out and about and seldom on the estate. The younger ones have a less sophisticated device – smaller and more discreet. As you are both heir designates of Governor Tymoros, you are required to wear a personal bio-monitor. It hasn’t been essential until now, since you have been constantly accompanied by attendants or guards when you have moved around.”
“Baby sat,” Tymos translated in his mind.
Kryslie glanced down to hide her grin of agreement.
“No doubt, you would soon find a continuation of that somewhat onerous,” Xyron said dryly. “These monitors are not meant to be an intrusion of your privacy, or a means to constantly check on your private movements – though obviously they could be used that way. It is so that your physical condition and position can be determined. If you consider the events of last week, perhaps you will feel less uncomfortable with the idea. They are to be kept on you or near you at all times.”
“Yes, Sir,” Tymos and Kryslie spoke in unison.
“The difference between these and what the younger children of the Governors wear is the inclusion of a simple communications signal array.
Xyron held one up to show them. It was a thin metal box, about the width of a hand, with a row of multi coloured lights along the top, and on the outward side, a sensor pad and a press switch.
“When you are required for an official reason, one of the lights will flash. If I require your presence, the yellow light will flash. Blue means a summons from your father, and purple is for the president.” Xyron saw nods and continued. “As heir designates for the Governorship of Tymorea, you will soon be expecte
d to attend general conferences. For this, a green light will flash and you will need to go to the Conference room. I will mention to you now, that you will also be required to attend when matters concerning the planet Earth are discussed.”
“Father said we would have a mission there,” Tymos recalled. “Is that why we must attend them?”
Xyron nodded. “Now, pay attention – the most important signals are orange and red. The orange light is accompanied by a low buzz and it means you are to be alert for danger. The red light and a shrill buzz means you are in immediate physical danger. On hearing that, you must immediately transmit to your apartment and raise the anti transmission shield. Do not even try to look for the danger; you may not have even that much time.”
Again, Xyron saw the nods and the sober faces.
“Finally, if you find yourself in a position of grave peril – pressing the button will summon immediate assistance. Do I need to go through all that again?”
“No, Sir. We will remember,” Tymos said. His voice chose that moment to break, and the last word was more of a squeak.
Xyron smiled slightly. “All summonses must be answered immediately.”
The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising Page 12