Chapter 39 - Reclaiming Kin
With the defensive screens about his scout ship fully charged and the distortion fields on, Llaimos dodged unseen amongst the attacking craft. The numbers of Ciriot attacking the Estate had increased now that they realised all the cities except Ecla were sealed.
He reached the hangar cavern unscathed but he had needed to shoot down three Ciriot craft to clear his way into the opening. A fourth craft had hit the reinstated shields when it tried to fly into the unexpected opening. In the co-pilots couch, Pyr sighed with relief.
“We need to get to the control room,” Llaimos told Pyr. “We can start downloading of the last lot of data from there.”
The thought of going into the palaces excited Pyr. Even though he knew his real father would not be there, the place should have been his home, and he recalled that Jordan had been there. He hoped to see his brother.
Llaimos transmitted directly to the security control room and looked around.
“Find a console to use, Pyr,” Llaimos directed. “Make a link to the ship’s computer. While it is downloading, get those programs we wrote, ready to use.”
Pyr was happy to get to work, and did so as Llaimos scrolled through the security monitor images. He stilled them when they showed the ruined remains of the lesser buildings – the servants’ quarters, the isolation block, the Government building. Amongst the rubble, Ciriot moved like swarms of ants, disintegrating rock when they wanted to look beneath it.
Llaimos controlled his anger. When he was ready, he would make them leave, but for now, the more that came here, meant less that were harrying the Temple. Less to be avoided by the Warlords when they left. He watched the screens until he heard Pyr’s joyful exclamation.
“Jordan!” The boy was trotting in his oversized armour to wards a figure standing in the doorway.
Llaimos strolled over, allowing the reunion, and feeling no need to draw a weapon. He sensed the gladness that Jordan felt at seeing his little brother safe and happy, but also his wariness and that he was watching over Pyr’s shoulder.
Pushing Pyr away, Jordan turned to the tall red head and bowed as he would have to Kellex. “Prince, I do not know your name, but I wish to surrender to you.”
To prove his intention, he drew out all his weapons and let them drop to the floor. “Please accept my service.”
“Jordan, brother, I am Llaimos. You honour me with your pledge, as Pyr honours me with his help.”
“Brother?” Jordan echoed, studying the tall man. “I knew of Tymos and Kryslie and of the baby. I did not know of you. Kellex did not know.”
Llaimos grinned. All he admitted was, “I haven’t been around very long. Tymos told me of you, and of Vila. I am so pleased to meet you in person. Is Vila with you?”
“No, and I have had no sense of her for many days – since the Warlords sent for her to try to help them. She managed to tell me the Ciriot were attacking, but no more. I fear that the Ciriot have killed her.”
Llaimos could offer no hope. “Kryslie has gone to the Temple to talk to the Warlords. Vila is not there.”
“She is not dead,” Pyr suddenly blurted. “We have to find her.”
“Not yet,” Llaimos said quietly. “There are things we must do here first. Neither you, nor Jordan are powerful enough to fight the Ciriot. That is our fight, the reason for our existence.”
There was a determined look on Pyr’s face, but Llaimos was studying Jordan. “I need to know where you stand in this conflict, Jordan. You have offered your service… what do you expect to gain from that?”
Jordan swallowed and looked at Llaimos resolutely. “Vila and I recognize that we were born Tymorean. We know that you are not our enemies and we are not worthy of the power that is within us. You claim kinship to me, but it is an honour I don’t deserve. I know you are not my enemy.”
His little brother had obeyed Kellex, and tried to please him, Jordan realised, but he had been afraid of his guardian. That Pyr had no fear of this Tymorean spoke clearly that the Tymorean was not the kind of tyrant that Kellex always claimed.
Controlling some powerful and complex emotions, Jordan went on, “Vila and I wish to help our adopted race and we wished to gain the help of your scientists to save our planet. I had hoped to find them here.”
“The information you need is here. I cannot claim the credit for it as it was the vision of Tymos and Kryslie and the work of the Elders who shared the vision,” Llaimos told him.
“Princess Kryslie told Vila that you were not born to fight us and you didn’t attack us as you attacked the Ciriot. Did your Elders foresee the problems of our world?”
“The Guardians revealed the problems to the Elders. They believe that your allies the Ciriot caused the instability in Aerdna’s orbit to encourage your Warlords to act faster,” Llaimos spoke from a memory.
Jordan felt a flash of anger. “I am yours to command!”
Llaimos smiled then, not at Jordan’s vehemence, but to relax him. “Then you have just made my next task easier. Three Aeronite baseships are still grounded. I was about to transmit the information that I told you about, to each ship. I give you leave to claim that you found it here, and ask that you instruct them to take off and go into orbit. They cannot stay here.”
“They won’t listen to me,” Jordan shook his head.
“Have you learnt nothing of command?” Llaimos chided. “One of my teachers suggested to me that if you told a big enough lie, people would believe it. That was because they would believe you would never dare to make such a claim if it was false.”
The joking face of Stenn Reslic came into his mind as Pyr exclaimed, “That would still be lying.” He sounded scandalised.
Llaimos nodded in Pyr’s direction and admitted, “Yes, but it is a necessary lie to ensure all the Aeronites on the ships survive.”
Jordan agreed with Llaimos. “If I tell them that Kellex ordered me to transmit to them anything of importance that I found…”
“They haven’t had contact from the Warlords for two weeks,” Llaimos murmured. “You being here, and having been near the Temple… it is not beyond belief that you might have been in contact and received orders. I think they will be relieved to have a reason to leave.”
“What will happen when the Warlords leave the Temple? They will be angry,” Jordan predicted.
“If they can leave,” Pyr suggested.
“They will leave once Kryslie has spoken to them,” Llaimos assured his companions.
Pyr dragged Jordan to a communications console and showed him how to work it. He listened as Jordan imitated Kellex and gave the orders to the baseships’ temporary commanders.
When he was finished, Jordan stood and bowed to Llaimos. “The four ships will blast off. All are being attacked by Ciriot.”
“Tymos has returned all the grounded warriors and fliers to the ships, and once the ships are in orbit I will activate a shield around this planet.”
Jordan considered that for a time before asking, “How will the Warlords get back to the ships?”
“Those that come to a particular set of coordinates, by a particular time, will be allowed past the shield. The Warlords all have ships that can fly in air or space; they have the latest and strongest shields. The Warlords are the bravest and fiercest of Aeronite fighters, are they not?”
Jordan didn’t answer that. ‘Brave, fierce fighters’ had a different meaning in his mind – one nearer to ‘powerful and unscrupulous’. He asked instead, “You do not intend to let the Ciriot escape?”
“No,” Llaimos confirmed. “However, we will not be taking the war to the Ciriot that remained in space.”