Chapter 12 - Learning about the Enemy
The three Elders who came to the emergency council session, each gave half bows of acknowledgement in the direction of Tymos and Kryslie, where they flanked their father at the head of the oval table. The senior section heads, bowed in the general direction of Tymoros, and looked startled to see Tymoros’s heirs, in the positions where Reslic and Xyron usually sat.
Jono Reslic was standing to the right of Tymos, watching as the notified people arrived. When the last appeared, he touched a control pad on his wrist and activated an anti -intrusion field around the Conference Room. He then sat and let his fellow Governor start the meeting.
Tymoros came straight to the point. “For the past two months, Tymos and Kryslie have been negotiating with the mutant tribes in the eastern mountain region. They will be sharing their observations and experiences with you.”
Kryslie whispered softly to him, and Tymoros added. “Until further notice, no one in this room will mention that they have returned.”
Tymos stood to address the assembled specialists. “What I have to say may not be directly applicable to all of you, but any ideas that occur to you should be aired when Kryslie and I finish.”
He saw heads nodding, in tentative agreement. In his mind, he heard, “Most of them are not expecting to hear anything important.”
His own reading of the audience agreed with his sister’s observation. The three Elders were intent on his words, leaning forward over the table. The section heads were sitting back in their chairs, looking in his direction, but not at him. The eldest sons of Jono Reslic and Xyron, were staring around the room and at the ceiling.
Regardless, Tymos began his report with the visit to Mithas’s tribe. He glanced at Kryslie when a murmur of soft voices began at his mention of the mutants. She responded mentally, “They are angry that the mutants have sided with the aliens. They blame them for the deaths of the many scouts, and the third scout party particularly.”
With a slight nod, showing he understood, Tymos continued to speak. The eyes of all the listeners gradually turned his way. He paused in his recitation at the point where they were approaching the village led by Horst. He glanced around the seated people, inviting questions.
Kryslie took the moment of contemplative silence to make a statement of her own.
“Two points should be emphasised. First, the mutants are not traitors. They are poorly educated, poorly treated, and what they want is what they should have by right, as citizens of Tymorea. It is not surprising that they were easy victims for the alien infiltrators. To them, the aliens are merely another group of outcastes, like themselves, but more able to fight back.”
Murmurings from the audience suggested a level of disagreement with her assessment. Kryslie merely raised the volume of her voice to continue. “The subtle arguments of the aliens have been working on them for the past two decades.”
Silence fell in the room. “In all that time, the promises made to them by the aliens were never fulfilled, were always just over the horizon. Yes, they received cast off weapons from their allies, but no way to recharge them. They have been used as battle fodder, throw away soldiers, acceptable losses if they died. It was only the dream of a better life that kept them clinging to those promises.”
Tymos jerked all attention back to him. “It was not difficult for us to gain the mutants’ trust. I believe they were already coming to realise that the aliens did not mean to make them wealthy or powerful. We learnt that even while they were helping the aliens, they were observing them, following them, locating their camps, noting what they did. We have maps, hand drawn by the mutants, giving details of their observations…”
Every one was now paying attention. Kryslie spoke again into the silence. “The other fact you are unlikely to know, is that in every place where the mutants have made a village, there is an area where the aura is very strong - where it rises like a spring.”
Elder Timenon rose and waited to speak. “We know that some of the aliens have traces of our power. Do you think they are aware of these places?”
Kryslie smiled faintly as she answered. “The mutants themselves sense only that the areas are special, but do not know why. They do not invite outsiders there, and in most cases, the aliens meet the mutants away from their villages. Even were aliens to be in one of these special places, I do not think they would sense the aura. In fact, possibly only myself, and Tymos could. However, we know where all the places are, and when the towns and forests are protected, these areas must be shielded as well.”
A break was taken while the mutant’s hand drawn maps were scanned and made available to the group via their data pads. Refreshments were brought in by Aldiv and Donni, Tymoros’s attendants. They were already sworn to secrecy about the return of Tymos and Kryslie, who would be staying in the High King’s suite, rather than their own apartments.
The meeting broke up near the time for the evening meal, after hours of questions, discussions and debates. All possible knowledge, implications, ideas and recommendations were milked from the reports. The attendees knew to return the following day.
Tymoros remained in the conference room with Tymos and Kryslie, but moved them to the more comfortable chairs around the small table near the beam-in point. Aldiv brought their meals there.
Later, Xyron returned and took time to sit with them.
“Xan is resting comfortably,” he told Tymos and Kryslie. “His leg has been treated and should heal quickly. The other injuries are already much better. He tentatively trusts us.”
“He cannot understand why his enemies saved him, when his own left him for dead,” Kryslie told the Governor.
“Do you believe that his people expected him to die?”
Tymos answered that. “I thought that would be obvious from all that was done to him.”
“Perhaps, but he did not actually experience…”
A shake of Tymos’s head caused Xyron to pause.
“Sir, I think it is nothing short of a miracle that Xan was able to move at all, let alone crawl far enough from that village to be just out of the fire zone. I am convinced that the Guardians kept him alive, and gave us the idea to draw energy from that forest inferno.”
Xyron considered Tymos’s words, then asked, “Were you aware that he has a low level of Royal Power?”
“Not at first,” Kryslie admitted. “I think it was dormant and I roused it.”
Tymos added, “I think Kellex knows, and he has a way to determine which of his people do. He collects them - like that group he sent here to try to take us.”
“And your analysis of Xan’s power, Princess Kryslie?” Xyron asked. She felt it was a test.
“It is pure. Xan is a sensitive and kind person. He disliked the orders he had to obey,” Kryslie replied immediately.
“I agree with your thoughts,” Xyron said, “However, I have blocked his power. I hope it will make him less susceptible to psychic influences.”
Tymoros did not say he disagreed, but offered an example that was contrary to Xyron’s statement. “Zacary noticed how the aliens separated those of Royal blood from the commoners in the third scout party. They used that green force field. The commoners were not affected.”
He watched as his children glanced at each other in the way he had grown used to. They had both tensed. He waited quietly for them to share their thoughts.
Mentally, and on a mind link so tight that the Governor’s could not perceive it, Tymos thought at his twin. “Morov told me that Zacary is noticeably too interested in knowing when we would be back. Stenn was too, but Stenn is a friend.”
Kryslie considered possible reasons, but none made sense. Zacary was two years older than they were, and had been stuck in the small lyceum when she and Tymos had first arrived on Tymorea. He had been jealous of them, of their ability to learn, and that they would graduate from the small lyceum, and he likely would not.
Zacary had acted on mind suggestions, and now they believed it was from the alien Warlord Kellex, and taken Tymos to a place where Kellex could have come and taken him.
After that incident, Zacary had been taken out of lessons, examined, and had his power made dormant. He was ineligible to graduate to the large lyceum, but had been allowed to join the Tymorean Peace Corps.
“Jonko mentioned that he had returned here,” Tymos spoke aloud, thoughtfully. “Morov told me he was interested in our return. Do you have doubts about him?”
Tymoros admitted, “I am uneasy around him, but I have been unable to detect any signs of mind control. Before we allowed him to join the Corps, we conditioned his mind to protect him from further interference.”
“Kellex can influence susceptible minds from some distance away,” Kryslie told them. “If Zacary was a prisoner, and Kellex knew who he was, the conditioning you did, might have been overcome.”
Xyron spoke up. “We believe that Zacary’s brother, Yuri, was also a prisoner of Kellex.”
Kryslie felt herself flush hot, and then cold. “There were a few weeks between when Zacary got back, and when Kellex blasted off…” She broke off to decide how to phrase the sudden fear that gripped her. “Father, I know you have the nightly curfew here to keep susceptible minds safer, but that might not be enough. Have you had any odd incidents while we have been gone?”
“There have been incidents,” Tymoros admitted carefully. “Children going into places where they had no permission to be. What is it you fear?”
“I don’t know if Kellex can work through Zacary to influence vulnerable minds,” Kryslie admitted, “But if some other mind is controlling Zacary, it would know when you were around, and hide. Or Zacary might be obeying implanted commands…”
“We are having him watched, discretely,” Tymoros assured them.
“And when Zacary was questioned, Jono sensed that there were things in his mind that he could not talk about, and some blank areas in his memory,” Xyron revealed.
“Maybe this is why I had the compulsion to keep our return secret,” Kryslie said with a shiver. “I will talk to him incognito.”
“Later,” Tymos advised. “He can wait until we finish here.”
Kryslie agreed with a nod.
When Aldiv transmitted Tymoros and his two children to the High King’s suite, it was unoccupied.
“Is Llaimos still sleeping in the nursery?” Kryslie asked, as Tymos glanced around.
“No, but he will still be with Tanya. Your friends amuse him between the end of lessons and his bedtime. He will be returning soon, so I suggest that you relax until then.”
He gestured towards the two rooms they used when not sleeping in their individual apartments. They took the unspoken suggestion of staying out of sight - in case messengers came for Tymoros.
When the suite door was closed after Tanya and Llaimos arrived, Tymos and Kryslie emerged. They were in time to see an energetic toddler, squirm free of his nurse. This time, his target was Tymos. Pre-warned by Kryslie, he braced himself and was ready to swing the little boy up into the air, before tossing him and catching him with a hug.
Llaimos squealed in delight, and when settled against Tymos, reached out for Kryslie, to delight in a three-way hug.
“Well, he is certainly pleased to have his siblings back,” Tymoros remarked to his consort. “Has he been more settled today?”
“Once he had seen Kryslie this morning,” Tanya said serenely, but her expression revealed a trace of mirth.
With a slight headshake, Tymoros qualified, “Smelling of cat musk and fire chemicals.”
“I am glad they are back safely,” Tanya tactfully agreed.
On the second day, Tymos and Kryslie continued their report of their experiences, telling of the ambush at Horst’s village, the finding of Xan, and all that had happened after that until they returned to the Estate. Every possible aspect was examined in detail. By the end of the day, everyone was grimly aware that the aliens would soon step up their attacks. Stealth would turn into outright war.”
On the third day after their return, Tymos and Kryslie escorted Xan to the Council Room. He was walking on his own, but with his leg in a walking support that took the stress off the healing muscles.
With the High King’s heirs vouching for him, he faced the crowd of powerful Tymoreans calmly.
Tymos introduced him by his Aeronite rank, and announced that he was going to speak about what he knew of the reasons for the invasion.
“I was only a Commander, and new to that rank,” Xan began. “And until I met Tymos and Kryslie, I believed only the worst of the Tymorean people.”
His candid recitation of his former beliefs raised anger in many of those present, and some began to call out accusatory questions. These people quietened in respect when Elder Timenon rose to his feet, requesting to speak.
“This young man is not the cause of that attitude, but its victim. Yet he is showing that he is open-minded enough to change his belief. I respect his wish to help his people, and his courage at being here to speak of them. If we listen, and learn, we may find a way to end this conflict before it becomes a world wide disaster.”
When the voice of reason and wisdom silenced the room, Tymos whispered to Xan, “Tell of things as you know them, but don’t try to justify the actions of your kind. Questions can come later.”
After Xan had finished telling all he could, the questions came at him like bullets. Tymos and Kryslie took turns to indicate which questioner to answer next, thus deflecting the worst of the accusations. However, the questions lasted late into the night, with none of the questioners choosing to stop for the evening meal.
Tymos sensed when Xan’s stamina was ebbing and interrupted the flow of questions.
“I think we all understand why the Aeronites are desperate to return here, and why the mingling of their culture and ours will be disastrous. A war here would send ripples throughout the settled galaxy. Those of you who advocate sending fleet warriors to root out the aliens that are here should remember that Tymorea is a Guardian Planet. We do not wage war on innocents.”
“You call these Aeronites innocent?” Jarro Reslic demanded.
His brother, the President, did not react, instead, he let Tymos answer.
“Sir, we will continue this topic tomorrow. No decision should be made until all the facts are known.”
Xan slumped back into his chair, trembling from a combination of fatigue and from being the focus of so many hostile eyes for the whole day. He could not have lasted, except for the unswerving support of his two patrons. However, his mind was now filled with the enormity of what he had done. He recalled every secret he had revealed about his people and the Aeronite methods, weapons and defences. What if what he was doing was wrong? What if these Tymoreans would use what he told them to destroy his people?
He felt Kryslie touch his shoulder. “Xan, you are doing the right thing. For your people and for ours.”
“I want to believe that, but even I can tell that a lot of those people think I have tricked you, and that I will be spying on you to report to my former superiors.”
Tymos gave a faint snort of amusement. “Like your Warlord, they look at Krys and me and think they see children. You will notice that the Governors, and Elder Timenon did not interrupt us. We will deal with the others in our own way.”
Kryslie glanced quickly to where President Reslic was sitting and listening. She caught saw a fleeting twitch of a smile. He stirred when Xan said with real despair, “I still don’t know how you can defend against the Aeronite weapons. Kellex says they are so much more advanced than anything he has observed here.”
Reslic stirred, and spoke quietly from his seat, his attention on Xan. “Your Warlords, for all their perceived superiority, do not know everything about us.”
Xan jerked around, and blurted, “Like the jets? Kellex was surprised by them.”
“My point, Commander Xan. Tymorea is a world without great resources and most of our people do not choose a hi-tech life. It does not mean we are ignorant of technology.”
“We can talk more about the alien technology tomorrow,” Xyron proposed.
Kryslie felt compelled to add, “Aeronites have been observing us, unsuspected, for over twenty years without us being the wiser. And just as Xan may not know everything his people are capable of, we cannot assume that all of our secrets, are still secret.”
Tymos added, “Xan has told us that Aeronites have been space going for centuries, that they have fought the inhabitants of nearby worlds, and built colonies on some of them, and some previously uninhabited worlds. They may have made allies with other intelligent races, learnt alien technologies. Some of their space warriors may even have fought units of the Tymorean space fleet.”
In the silence, after Tymos finished speaking, while the Governors considered the implications of his suggestion, Xan turned to stare at him. He suddenly felt as if the air in the room had become charged. What was the Tymorean Space fleet? It opened up a completely new view of the Tymoreans - vistas that Kellex knew nothing about.
When he looked at the Governors, he saw they were all looking intently at Tymos. He glanced at him too, and saw that both Tymos and Kryslie had a very strange look on their faces.
“What have you seen?” Tymoros asked, as the strangeness eased. “What wisdom has the Guardians shown you?”
Tymos seemed to need time to find his voice. When he did, it was firm and determined. “You have activated the ground and air forces. You have recalled the space fleet. We must concentrate the rest of our strength…” The pause seemed to last minutes, before Tymos finished. “Recall the missionaries.”
Xan took in the words, though the full meaning eluded him. He expected an angry outburst from the Governors, for the last three words had clearly been an order. However, they accepted it, and Governor Xyron rose at once, “I will send the recall immediately.”
It was unbelievable - Warlord Kellex would never accept an order from a subordinate so calmly. Particularly not from a child…
Reslic rose and strode to the beam-in point, as Xan tried to grapple with the ideas that swirled in his mind. Something portentous had just happened, but he couldn’t understand what it was.
“What did you mean? Recall the missionaries?”
Tymoros spoke before Kryslie could begin. “Xan, you could not know what is at stake here. It is not just the need for us to protect our people from yours. Tymorea is a Guardian Planet. The people of this world have been given a trust, and when there is peace here, there is peace throughout the universe. We have to consider that before we act.”
The concept was foreign to Xan, and his mind could not even begin to understand it. He held onto the part he could comprehend.
“Recall the missionaries,” he thought to himself, and he felt again that the words were portentous. “What would that do?”
Kryslie whispered into his mind, “We must maintain peace here. The missionaries are diplomats, scientists, highly trained agents and observers. They will be the backbone of our defending force. They have knowledge gleaned from thousands of worlds.”
Xan shook his head as if trying to dislodge the information. But snippets of that knowledge were forming into an almost frightening realisation.
“I should have seen it - back when I was chasing you from village to village - and when I was challenging you…it is so obvious! But I couldn’t get over Kellex’s conviction that you were only the pampered whelps of a deluded and decadent leader.”
“What should you have seen?” Kryslie asked softly.
“That old prophecy that Kellex believes in…it’s true! He thought that by having Jordan, and Vila and the other young one, he would control the situation. That he could use them against you.”
Tymoros was studying the young Aeronite with an intent expression, but he spoke casually. “What Prophecy?”
Xan didn’t seem to hear him. He stared at Tymos and Kryslie, looking horrified. “It was never going to be them. It’s you, and Tymos and…”
Wide eyed and terrified, Xan found he couldn’t speak. In spite of the new truths he had learnt, old beliefs were still entrenched in his mind. Fear for his people was surging through him, making his body rigid, and his skin sweat.
Kryslie reached out a hand and took Xan’s. She sensed the full extent of his terror. She sent him the sense of calm and peace.
“Xan, we are not like that. We are your friends. We are not unprincipled killers, we do not intend to betray your trust and destroy every one of your people. We promised to help them, and we will. But we will protect our world, our people…all life here.”
Bile rose in his throat, and Xan swallowed convulsively. He felt the waves of peace coming from Kryslie, and felt she was trying to manipulate him. He believed he had been duped, and all his people were doomed. He had failed to protect them, failed his duty, he should have killed them…should kill them, now…
Kryslie glanced helplessly at Tymos, unsure how to proceed.
Tymoros studied Xan’s body language and interpreted the conflict within. He spoke aloud, thoughtfully, and stayed sitting where he was. “For reasons of their own, and from a time before they left to go on tour with me, Tymos and Kryslie were investigating what we could learn of Aerdna’s problems and accumulating useful data. They convinced many of our wisest scientists and philosophers, to work towards a solution.”
Slowly, the words penetrated Xan’s terrified mind. Tymos and Kryslie had been trying to help, even before they met him. He turned to look at Kryslie. The undisguised hope in his expression was like the sun shining from behind a cloud.
“Xan, you are not a traitor. Forget what Kellex said, what others said. Kellex has been wrong so often about us that I doubt he would recognise the truth if he fell into it. We see you as a visionary, and saviour. You must be special; otherwise the Guardians of Peace would not have protected you, and led us to you.”
“But what can you do?” Xan asked passionately?
Tymos spoke then, causing Xan to look at him. “Our solution may not be what you expect. And we will tell you our plan after we are finished here. We cannot evacuate the entire population of Aerdna, but there is a way they can survive. Everyone on Aerdna must work hard to make it possible. However, we must first convince the Warlords to go home, and leave Tymorea alone.”
“But what can be done? Our scientists are predicting a cataclysm, that will destroy Aerdna.”
He broke off as he saw the faces of Tymos and Kryslie go blank once more, and the air seem charged once again.
Unnerved by the odd behaviour, Xan glanced at Tymoros. The Governor was intent but unruffled.
“A moment, Xan,” he said softly. “Other, greater, powers are at work here.”
A moment later, both Tymos and Kryslie relaxed and were, once again, aware of their surroundings.
It was obvious that they both had a lot on their minds, but Kryslie only said, “Aerdna will survive. The people there, who do not have the option to flee to the colonies or anywhere else, will survive. This we promise.”
“We have a great deal to discuss with Governor Xyron. Xan, you need to rest until tomorrow. Father, will you ask Aldiv to assist Xan back to the infirmary?” Tymos requested.
Waiting only for Tymoros’s nod of agreement, Tymos and Kryslie touched their transmitters and disappeared.
When the council met again the following day, and Xan once more joined the group, he looked for Tymos and Kryslie. They both looked alert and smiled when they saw him. He recalled they were going to speak to Governor Xyron the previous night, and looked around for that personage. He had not yet arrived, but when he did, it seemed as if he had not slept.
However, as the day proceeded, Xan realised that the Governor was fully alert, for he asked most of the probing questions about the topic of the day - Aeronite weapons and defences, as well as Xan’s scant knowledge of Aeronite science. His deft questioning prompted Xan to recall many details that he hadn’t realised might be important.
For a time, the topic was the way the Aeronite Invasion force was organised. Xan told him that the six Warlords were the controlling force, with each responsible for a different aspect of the overall plan. He didn’t know, exactly, what the Warlords, other than Kellex, were doing. At best, he had hints gleaned from partly heard conversations. When talking about Kellex, he knew a lot and had no compunction about telling it all. He expected an angry reaction when he mentioned Kellex’s ‘toys’ and ‘experiments’ and while the Governors looked grim, the rest of the group did not seem surprised.
When he spoke of the drunken road guard that Kellex kept as a prisoner, both Tymos and Kryslie stiffened. That information meant something to his patrons, but rest of the audience did not seem to have made the same connection.
Later, Xan overheard some of the audience agreeing the road guard, must have revealed details of the Estate security. They could not see any other way that Kellex had been able to infiltrate on the night of Llaimos’s birth.
Xan had revealed that Kellex himself had led that raid, and had been the only one of the team to escape. Now he blurted, “He had infiltrated here before…”
Several people shot questions at him, one was Jarro Reslic. “When was this?”
“I have no de