Kingdom of Stars (The Young Ancients: Timon Book Three) (8 page)

Which didn't work. Going deep and trying again, three more
times, got results however. It took a long time, nearly fifteen minutes, but he
got out of the ground finally, to find that Baron Talley, if that's who he
really was, simply saw it happening and tried to use the same trick again. The
all black mass was sort of shapeless, like a cloud of shadow. Timon got it then.
A nano cloud. A very dense one made of a billion, or a billion-billion, little
devices. Maybe at least. It made sense, but that didn't dictate what the thing
had to be really.

Not knowing what else to do and not having a whole lot of
time to come up with a plan, Tim ran into the man, who died almost instantly.
Or at least that should have been what happened. He flew apart under the force
of the Fast Craft striking him, turning into a gray cloud, and then reforming,
almost instantly, about ten feet away. The little box was destroyed at least,
which let the other nanos escape.

Because, that's almost what the Baron had to be made out of,
wasn't it? That or a compound that Timon had never encountered at all. Ramming
him probably wouldn't work then.

Fighting him wouldn't at all.

What he needed was an air choke. Which of course he didn't
have. He'd been meaning to make a batch of those, since they were handy at
stopping fire, and tiny things in the air, but he'd sort of put that off, not
having enough time to get everything done and thinking that clothing would be
more useful in the long run.

"Oops." The best option, for him, was to run, of
course. Not the others there, the Countess, her guards, which were mainly
female, and the others that were there, mainly nobles of some kind, he thought.
Tim glanced at them quickly, as the craft kept moving back a bit, to see that
they'd all retreated at least. That was a good plan, but not enough. Not even
by half. Timon, not having a clue what to do next, rose into the air and opened
the wall nearest him with a thought.

It didn't slide away, it was just a perfectly round window suddenly.
Leaning out he called down and made little waving gestures at the others.

"Go! This is between me and the..." He didn't have
a real word for it at all. Not that made any sense. Digging for something in
his mind, he shrugged. "Me, and the golem here."

That was enough for about half of them, as the large Baron
pulled his right arm back and then moved it in a slapping motion, which caused
it to stretch out of all reasonable proportion and hit the side of the vehicle.
No noise came though, since it was a shield, and not really there, no matter
what it looked like. It didn't even move at all, because the amount of force
just wasn't that great. It was still a good trick, if one that wasn't doing
what the golem needed it to.

Timon figured that to be the case at least, since the thing
immediately tried to reshape itself into a pale flesh toned spike and stab him
through the window. It did nothing, since it was a shield, not glass. The
creature or machine in front of him, whichever it was, reformed into the shape
of a man and held very still for a long time, as if waiting for him to make the
next move.

That wasn't a good plan though. Really, the very best plan
seemed to be running. Just flying off at speeds that would be hard to track for
anyone in the world. He had no idea what it might take to subdue the thing in
front of him, but given everything it was decently clear that the older looking
man shaped thing really didn't want him to survive for some reason. It was a
bit rude, really.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes of the thing just standing
there, glaring through the front shield window at him, and Timon looking back
passively, there was a ripple over the man's face. He shifted so quickly that
it was almost hard to pay attention to it. It baffled the eye too much, leaving
a brief feeling of horror inside him. Part of that was who the man turned in
to, naturally.

It was a person that he'd only seen once before, a merchant
sized man that had light brown hair, brown eyes and a pleasant if non-descript
face. The man that had tried to use some kind of strange light device to poison
him, not even two weeks before.

Right now the man was smiling and looking around, breaking
eye contact. Probably looking for a hostage, but everyone else had run off.
There were probably servants and guards left inside the castle, but he didn't
make the obvious plan and try to grab one of them. It was the smart move,
because Tim wouldn't go to his death for some chamber maid. He wasn't Tor after
all.

"So, we seem to be stalled out here, don't we?" He
spoke out loud, but the thing answered, staring at him again. No sound came
through, but Timon could read his lips easily enough.

"We do! Why don't you come out and we can finish this
like men?" The look was a bit less pleasant then, being icy and hard,
rather than angry at least.

Timon forced himself to chuckle, just a little bit.

"I don't think so. For one thing, neither of us is a
man, are we? I'm a boy and you're a... What exactly are you anyway? A
mechanized human? A nano cluster? A hive?" That last was the right term
for it, or so Brown had taught him in passing. The Larval used communications
hives, so he could get the idea, sort of, if it was the case.

There was a head shake however.

"Not at all. I'm made of a living mimetic liquid. Astute
though, to realize that I'm not a
man
. I've been all over your life for
years now, Timmy. I'm a bit shocked you don't recognize me... Ah, let me show
you..." There was the start of a ripple, familiar female forms being
hinted at one after the other. At first a line of fear started to run down
Tim's spine, but then he got the idea, and shook his head.

"Sorry." He mouthed the word without exaggeration
at all. "I can feel your field pattern and it's not human at all. That
trick won't work. If you show up as anyone in my life, as you're hinting you
can, I'll
know
. You also haven't been, not anyone important at least."
That part was bravado. After all, he didn't go around reading everyone he met,
so it was possible. The being
had
fooled him for a short time by
pretending to be a merchant and Tim hadn't figured out what was going on at
all, which meant that it was possible.

A real threat that wasn't going to just go away because he
knew about it now.

The creature nodded though and made himself look like
Countess Alan, no doubt trying to terrify him.

"Oh? Well, that makes things harder for me, doesn't it?
I'd say it was too bad, but I kind of like our game so far. Do you know how
boring normal people are for me now? Hiding amongst them like I have been is
less than entertaining. I was designed to kill, and most barely represent a
challenge to me at all in this age of man. There's a mere handful that can
survive even
this
long, Timmy. I think I'll leave now, and come back
later, when you're less guarded and prepared for me. I miscalculated, thinking
that Gray's little present would disrupt you enough to throw you off. Instead
it left you better guarded. Sloppy of me. I won't underestimate you again. Now
that you've been warned..." There was a pause and a bow that followed,
with the creature smiling at him with a very eerie face looking back, a lovely gown
on a tall and slim body, rather than Countess Alan's.

It was a Queen's. Naturally.

"Now that you know about me, things will be ever so
much more interesting. I hear from Countess Printer that the others are coming
in a few hours? Sooner perhaps? Tell them that Remy said hello. Remy
Seventeen." Then, without shifting again, the blue velvet dress blowing in
the wind a bit, clearly being a thing made of magic, meaning that whatever Remy
was made of could operate things made of it, the woman that looked like his
Aunt Connie waved, in a way that she really might have herself, and simply
moved around the side of the strange motley Castle at a quick walk.

Timon didn't leave the relative safety of his craft. That
creature would probably just wait for him to follow and since he had no real
way to fight, and anyone he met would be suspect from then on, it just wasn't a
good idea.

He decided to just sit and let sweat pool in his armpits
instead. That and let fear spit, bitter and sharp, fill his mouth. This was so
far from good that bad didn't cover it at all. A shape shifting killer that
wanted him dead for some reason. One that was working with Gray.

Those words meant so much more than they sounded like,
didn't they?

First, Gray was alive. He'd suspected that the whole time
actually, since it didn't make sense for her to sacrifice her life just to kill
Princess Karina. The girl had ordered her daughter dead, and made it happen,
but Gray wouldn't be so emotional about it that she would have shown up to
fight her alone like that. This was a third point of confirmation for him then,
which probably meant she wasn't dead at all. It was too bad, really. Tim had
tried to have her killed himself, and the woman was going to have to die, no
matter what. Her plan was to kill most of the people in the world and leave
clones of Ancients to run it all. It was worse than barbaric.

Too bad she looked exactly like his mother. It would
probably make killing her harder now. It wouldn't have before, but having
empathy and guilt was a chore.

Remy had given away a lot more than that however. He, or
she, if that kind of thing applied at all, had become the Queen far too well,
and claimed to have been in and out of his life for years. Since most of that
had been in Two Bends, or out on the road making deliveries, there was a good
chance that someone he knew was dead. It was the easiest way to do it after
all, wasn't it? Just kill a person, make the body go away into a deep hole, and
then take their place?

It wasn't going to be easy to figure it out either. Not at a
distance.

Just about then a smooth black craft rose in the distance,
which was telling about something different, if Remy had run to it on foot. He
was
fast
. That had to be five or six miles away, and it had only been
three minutes.

Tim didn't know if that was the case though. He'd been in
Austra enough to see how they did things, and knew about remote control
devices. Military grade Tor shoes might have done it too, if he'd misjudged
things a bit. The being had magical clothing for instance, which could mean a
lot of different things. Including that he was working with Tor directly. Or at
least the monster in his head.

Then, not trusting anything in the world at all, which was
the only sensible plan, Timon just sat and waited for something to change and
hoped that he'd survive it.

For the second time in his life, that didn't seem like it
was what would be happening at all.

The inside of his craft was comfortable enough, it had a
soft seat, because sitting for hours on end was hard if you didn't see to
things like that, and it was made of magic, so it wasn't an extra expense or
anything. The temperature was about perfect for him, which meant slightly
cooler than most people enjoyed, being that he ran slightly hotter.

So that, plus the nearly mind numbing fear kept him
entertained for a long time as he waited. He had to use his healing amulet, so
that he wouldn't have a combat rage headache, but as fights went, he'd been
remarkably unharmed in the end. In fact, that day at least, the morning
practice had been the most damaging part for him.

It meant that he had a long time to think, as people slowly
came back, clearly wondering why he wasn't getting out to talk to them.
Countess Printer actually came back too, but he couldn't sense her through the
shield of the craft. That part was important, he knew, because even though he'd
told Remy that he could sense his presence, that might not be true at all. He
didn't
know
. It was a reasonable guess, but that was all.

After a bit he blinked and rolled his eyes as Holly stood
out front of his now tiny vehicle looking worried. He had a communications
device after all. Contacting her, he grinned as she pulled her own from her
side pocket.

"Sorry, things are a bit tense. I can't come out yet.
That man, Baron Talley? He's some kind of form changer. I don't think he was
the Baron at all." Which would probably mean the man was dead, if it were
the case.

That would have led to a long discussion, but a large eight
sided craft descended from the sky then. It was glowing a pumpkin orange, and
settled over the ocean, instead of finding him. The line was open to Holly, so
he waved to her and explained quickly what he was doing and broke the line,
which just left her standing there, looking more than a little put out.

He was being rude, he knew, but...

Sighing he tapped the sigil for his grandfather, wondering
if he was on board the orange vessel or not. Oddly enough it wasn't the man
himself who answered, but a deep sounding voice that took a few seconds to
place. Kolb. The weapons master from the Lairdgren school. Also Immortal and
related to him in that same vague fashion that all the others claimed. It
wasn't biological, but they were still as much family as most of them had.

"Timon?" He sounded steely, which was a thing the
man was very good at, over all. It was close to the only way that Tim had ever
seen him at least, but they weren't exactly close.

"Here. What do you know about Remy Seventeen?"

There was a silence for a moment from the device, and then a
single low word. It was echoed several times from the other space.

"Fuck."

At least one of those had come from Count Lairdgren himself,
which wasn't like that man at all. He normally spoke in bland tones, without a
lot of emphasis. It made sense that he'd know that kind of thing, being
thousands of years old, but hearing it caused Tim to wince. If he was being
pushed to atypical behavior like that, then the situation was probably worse
than he'd thought.

It was Kolb that answered though, his voice darker than it
had been by about fifty percent.

"You saw a Remy? Did they... have a message for
us?"

"Not exactly. It pretty much just tried to kill me,
then we discussed the fact that it might have been around for a while, watching
me. It turned into Aunt Connie, made some threats and left. A black craft took
off several minutes later. I can't swear it was on board. The golem also turned
into the man that tried to destroy my pattern a few weeks back, which
I
took as a confession. That might be a bit presumptuous, but hey, if you don't
want to be thought ill of, you probably shouldn't go around making yourself
look like would be killers." Timon wiped at his forehead and looked at
Countess Printer, who was standing with her arms crossed, clearly not loving
the part where she was being kept out of the loop, information wise. That was
just timing though, not him really trying to freeze her out.

The bald giant with the deep voice cleared his throat over
the device.

"I see. I think. How did you survive?"

"Magic. I was in a rage, after being goaded... I can go
over that later, but I realized I wasn't winning a fist fight with it, and hid
in my craft."

"Good. Why did you stay in place? You could have fled,
and probably should have."

Timon sighed and wanted to shake his head, but realized that
Holly might just take it the wrong way if he did.

"If I'd done that, he might have just killed people
here. The Countess and her people, out of spite. I stayed ready to run though,
just in case. I... haven't come out yet. Just because a craft left, that
doesn't mean Remy was
on
it. I should probably leave, but..."

That got a new voice to speak. His Aunt Alice. Now she was a
worrying sort of person altogether. In the main he tried to avoid her,
personally. She ran the new space fleet, which was interesting enough, but she
was also both very tough and hard,
and
very pretty. That combined with
her being called "aunt" was enough to make her too complicated for
him by far. Not that she was really related, he reminded himself.

"Should you leave? If you stay there, Remy will know
where to find you, but you can set your traps and ready yourself. If you run,
you'll never know when you're about to be hit. That puts you at a disadvantage.
Not that you'll live, of course. The Remy's... They're very good at removing
people that they don't like. I'm impressed that you survived so far. Very much
so."

That
made him feel better. At least he was impressing
his aunt, the crazy fighter. Tim smiled though, and rolled his eyes, while
Count Lairdgren spoke, his voice a bit more abstract.

"We're about over the site of the blast now. From the
readings it was clearly a nuclear device. I don't have the kiloton range yet,
but it was decently large. That's a violation of the treaty, of course, but I
don't imagine that's at issue right now. If your craft frustrated a Remy, that
speaks well as to the idea that shields might remain helpful as well. Keep
yours on at all times. Provide them to those around you as well. It isn't a
perfect plan, but I have to agree with Alice. If you leave, the problem will
simply follow you. Staying will at least allow you to make preparations there.
We also have to reconsider the other situations."

No one spoke, but Timon understood what that meant. They
were supposed to leave in a few hours to try and recover Julie White, the
leader of Soam, who had been kidnapped and was being held prisoner. The
location was in her own land, near the southernmost tip of her continent,
almost verging on the Antarctic.

Timon thought about it for a bit and then looked out the
window. After all, if he was being tracked, his going there would be too. They
were, he knew, probably all being watched though. It was a lot less than
perfect. The situation on the ground was too heavily protected for him to go in
alone, naturally. Otherwise he would have tried to free Aunt Julie days before,
even if it meant he might die. That was what you did for family, and while he
might not
feel
that kind of thing, he knew it was a rule.

That was something he hadn't realized before really. The
changes that Tor had made, they didn't force him to love his family any more
than he had before. It wasn't an emotional decision then, but a thing of long
training that made him say the next part.

"I need help to get her. I'll go now, but..." It
wasn't something he could do alone. Not really. The guards were clones after
all and probably had either Cordes or Gray in them, if not copies of other
minds that had been long dead and resurrected. That part was interesting, but
if it were the case, then they'd probably have been selected for their loyalty
to one of the others involved, at the very least. The point was that they
weren't just guards, standing there with wooden clubs.

All of them had special abilities and skills, many of which
he couldn't match at all yet. Some he never would, being biologically incapable
of them. For instance shape changing wasn't a thing for him. There were other
things that no one had even told him about that were very possible too, he
didn't doubt.

Instead of them telling the little boy that he wasn't
allowed to go, or suggesting that he pilot the ship or something, for the
escape, even though it was an area that he actually was qualified for, Orange
spoke up.

"Kolb, can you do it, if the children help? Tiera and
Timon? It isn't a perfect fighting unit, but they are formidable people. As are
you, of course." That last bit sounded tacked on, but the woman had a
problem with good looking men and Kolb, while no Count Lairdgren or Brown, was
ruggedly handsome. It colored the way that she looked at the rest of them.

"Yes. Tim, can you meet us at the blast site?"

"Tiera is with you?" He hadn't heard her speak,
but there was a soft murmur from what seemed to be Kolb's right side.

"I'm here." It was the right voice, he thought,
but sounded abstract, soft and almost drugged. Like a person in a trance. That
had been the plan however, hadn't it? Tiera was trying to protect the knowledge
she had about Tor and his Cordes being part of the plot against them, by simply
controlling her every thought. Constantly. It was a feat that Timon hadn't
expected of her and wouldn't have. She was a bit high strung and edgy most of
the time, even after the changes Tor had made to her. Violent and angry. Except
that she was doing it anyway, because she had to.

"Right, I'll be there in... Call it five minutes, I
need to let Countess Printer know that something is going on at least or she'll
kick my behind. She might anyway." He wasn't certain that she wouldn't, as
soon as they were alone, to be honest. She looked pretty miffed at him at the
moment.

There was a pause and then Kolb spoke again.

"Tell her I said hello. Out." The line broke then.

Timon didn't want to chat with the woman, but it was her County,
and she was the boss there, so he did it. The trick was the common one now
though. He had to tell her the truth, but not all of it, since she knew Tor and
wouldn't be able to control her mind like Tiera was doing.

He started by making himself sound young, since that would
probably get him more slack than anything else. Or at least he tried for that.
It came out sounding professional and a bit clipped instead, like a military
man.

"The others are getting readings right now. It was a
nuclear device. I don't know what that means past some basic facts. It's a bad
sign, that it was used at all. Right now I need to go and meet up with them, so
that I can do some scutt work or something along those lines. Sorry about being
abrupt earlier. It was rude of me to just get off the line like that.
Nerves." He was ready to go into greater depth, but the woman in front of
the craft just nodded, clutching something small and copper in her left hand.
It was probably an explosive device. That's what Timon would have wanted, if he
had one, which he simply didn't.

"I understand. This isn't a good situation. You were
just in a combat rage as well, so I take no offense. I'm sure it won't come
between us, as friends." She was being a bit stiff about it still, and
didn't smile, but that was probably because she had to be considering kicking
him out of school, or at least asking him to leave on his own.

People were trying to kill him, and it wasn't just a normal
assassin or two. She didn't have to know the whole story to get that Remy
Seventeen wasn't just some guy with a knife that might accidently stab the
wrong person. People had come very close to destroying her entire city, killing
her
in the process.

If that was the kind of thing that was going to happen
now... Well, no place was really safe, but removing the target, which seemed to
be him in this case, at least so far, made sense.

Of course that also made him wonder why they were working
quite that hard to remove him from the picture. He was, no matter how you
sliced it, still just a boy with a few tricks. Ones that a person working with
them had come up with, for the most part. If he was a threat to them at all it
was only because of Tor. That didn't make him happy to realize, since he was
still angry with him, but that didn't make it false either.

The woman took a deep breath and went rather still, her body
language stiff suddenly.

"Timon, I mean no offense, but... it might be best if
you weren't here, for the time being? I don't
want
to send you away,
it's simply that we aren't ready to face this kind of thing." She
seemed... shamed by her own words, even if they were the right ones from her
perspective.

"Understood. Kicked out after one class. I was doing so
well too. I hardly bled on anyone at all. Well. I'll figure something out.
Don't worry about it." His behind was a little sore from sitting already,
which probably had to do with the incredible amount of tension he was feeling.
Shifting a bit he smiled at the woman through the front and then got ready to
leave. His not being wanted there didn't mean he could get out of the rest of
his work.

She mumbled at him, which wasn't like her at all, from what
he'd seen.

"Forgive me?"

After feeling a moment of irritation, since the whole thing
had been an excuse to stay away from his brother, Tim nodded.

"Don't let it worry you. Have Mindy pass out the
shields, in case of another attack. The clothing too. Make sure you get an
accounting of who has what though."

"I shall. Until we speak again." Then, rather
deliberately, she shut off her device and walked away, looking stiff and
uncomfortable, as if she thought that Timon would hold a grudge over what she'd
done. More, that him holding a grudge might mean something that a sitting
Countess couldn't easily handle.