Read The Tymorean Trust Book 1 - Power Rising Page 14


  Chapter 13 - Second Stage

  John and Keith materialised in the now familiar clearing with a feeling of intense satisfaction. Learning to use the Tymorean personal transmitters had confirmed in their minds that were not ‘jumped up commoners’ as some of the servants had claimed. This first transmission, using their own power, made that power real to them.

  Moments later, some of the elation waned as Rowan, their instructor, took the transmitters back, set a time for their next lesson and departed.

  “Oh well,” Keith sighed. “We will have one eventually.” He looked around to see if Tim and Cindy were coming. Then he told himself firmly, “Tymos…and Kryslie.” The names were not too different, but the two kids were, and they were calling one of the Governors ‘father’. Keith and John were allowed to call Governor Xyron ‘foster-father’, and for the first time he could remember, the term didn’t raise a feeling of trepidation.

  John nudged Keith and said, “Here they come.”

  Tymos and Kryslie trotted into the clearing. Their faces were flushed from exercise, but they were not out of breath. They each grinned a greeting as two security men appeared trotting after them. These guards took up a position opposite the two guards already present.

  “Why didn’t you just transmit here?” Keith asked. “Would have been quicker.”

  “Quicker, yes, but Perrin Reslic would be at us if we did. He likes to keep reminding us that we had legs before transmitters and it is no shame to use them.”

  Tymos grinned even wider and said, “Which doesn’t explain why our attendants transmitted us everywhere before we received our own devices…and still often do. Anyway, are you ready to do some work?”

  “We’ve been working,” Keith retorted. “Non stop lessons. So I really need to work off some energy.”

  “So do I,” John agreed. “I thought I had well and truly finished with school, but I am not complaining. I’m learning fascinating new things and at least we are out of that glass cage.”

  “So, where have they put you now?” Kryslie asked.

  “Infirmary,” John told her, gesturing over his shoulder at the low building just showing above the trees. He saw both Tymos and Kryslie looking there as if the information was new to them.

  “Got some tricky exercises for you today,” Tymos told his friends. “If you do okay, and you aren’t too tired, we are allowed to show you around a bit.”

  “I thought the idea was to tire us out,” Keith challenged with a grin.

  Kryslie shrugged. “The effect will depend on how acclimatised you are. It took us a while before we didn’t collapse at the end of our lessons.”

  The thought of having a look around their new world, even if only a part of the huge Royal Estate, gave John and Keith an energy boost. They worked through the exercises and needed very little help from their friends once either Tymos or Kryslie had demonstrated what to do.

  At the end, they were sweating and panting and more than grateful to the attendants who had brought a drink for them.

  “What’s this,” Keith asked, eying the green liquid.

  “A restorative,” Tymos explained. “It will restore your energy levels…unless of course, you don’t want to look around.”

  For an answer, Keith drank the liquid quickly and found it tasted delicious. “Aren’t you having any?”

  “We did,” Kryslie admitted. “Our attendants had some ready when Perrin finished making us lift weights.”

  “Where are we going?” John asked.

  Tymos drew out an electronic data pad from his pocket. Morov had thoughtfully provided it after hearing the plans for this late afternoon activity. “Just around,” he said unhelpfully. After scanning the data pad and memorising what was on the screen, he handed the unit to Kryslie. She took a quick look, and then handed it to John. However, in that look, she too had memorised the map of the Royal Estate, and located their current position.

  Kryslie gave her twin a grin. This would be the first time that they had been allowed to wander around the palace grounds. So far, they had only been allowed to travel from the small lyceum to their father’s palace, or too the clearing where they met John and Keith. There were a lot more places that they had only ever transmitted to and from.

  “Come on,” Kryslie grabbed Keith’s arm and pulled him into motion. “You know where the infirmary is, so we won’t go that there. This way.”

  She began to pull him in the direction from which they had arrived. The guards started to follow, but the two attendants didn’t.

  John took a moment to look around before starting of after her. “What is that long tall building along from the infirmary?”

  Without a pause, Kryslie told him, “Personnel quarters. The people who work on the estate, sleep there.”

  “Or in another building on the other side of the estate,” Tymos added.

  The group walked in amongst a thicket of screening trees, to emerge into view of a more ordered area. There was an avenue of ornamental trees in individual plots, growing between raised flowerbeds abloom with all colours of flowers.

  Keith paused to enjoy the sight, and John looked carefully around as if to memorise it.

  “On your left,” Tymos announced, portentously, “Is Governor Xyron’s palace. On the right is the small lyceum where they have us taking lessons with the babies.”

  That got Keith’s attention “What ever for?”

  Tymos merely grinned, allowing his sister to explain, “In the words of a few of our friends, it is because we haven’t grown up yet.” She didn’t explain further, knowing that her twin was pausing for the effect of her words to register, before answering. Finally, he did.

  “We haven’t reached second stage yet,” he shrugged. “When we do, we will graduate to the large lyceum. That is where you will probably be once you know the basics of reading and writing Tymorean. We should be able to show you that.”

  “Up ahead is our father’s palace,” Kryslie said pointing, before taking her friends through the gap between there and Xyron’s palace. Several servants passed them, going the other way. Each bowed to Tymos and Kryslie and kept going.

  “Wow,” Keith exclaimed as they emerged into a large open area, the centre of which was paved with a huge mosaic.

  John was studying the trees in pots circling the area; they were different again to the trees near the small lyceum. And what he had at first thought were more of the raised flower beds, were also mini mazes of different flowers. The colours forming symbols on a contrasting colour background.

  “This is the Palace Garden,” Kryslie told her friends. She was as impressed by the scene as her friends.

  “When they have functions to which commoners are invited, they hold them out here, or in the Grand Ballroom of Father’s palace,” Tymos said. His mind recalled a carriage ride around this garden, but that had been at night and the area had been lit by a multitude of tiny lights strung from tree to tree and other portable lights.

  They four of them stopped in the centre of the garden and looked around. Their unobtrusive guards were still nearby and ever watchful.

  They were in a position to look down a wide paved road that led to a distant gate.

  “Main entrance to the estate,” Kryslie announced when she noticed her friends looking that way.

  John glanced at the data pad, took time to decipher the Tymorean script and pointed to a long tall building showing above the trees. “That is the Government building, right?”

  “Spot on,” Tymos confirmed. “Most of the top administrators of this world work from there. The top two floors have guest quarters for visiting dignitaries.”

  Keith spotted a similar building on the other side of the road. “What is that building then?”

  “Guard Headquarters,” Tymos said, recalling the details on the map, and other details he had picked up. “The Palace Guards, the Road Guards and the Peace Corps work from there. The barracks are there too.”

  “Am I right in thinking there is
another garden further down?” John asked.

  “Yes, do you want to…?”

  One of the escorting guards coughed politely and Kryslie turned around.

  “Princess Kryslie, the older Royal children are in the Government Gardens. The Governors have not approved the new citizens to meet them yet.”

  Tymos guessed the situation and said, “We can do that another day. I was going to show you the large lyceum and it is almost time for the lessons to finish. I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

  Neither John nor Keith were worried about not going that way, and followed Tymos through between President Reslic’s palace and the other side of the High King’s palace. The large lyceum was on their left, though they did not go close to it, instead they turned right and continued on to the area behind Tymoros’s palace.

  There, servants were busy setting up tables in clusters under the ornamental trees. Kryslie explained, “This area is the Royal Court. Most people come here for their evening meal. It is held out here most of the year.”

  As they crossed the area, the servants noticed the group and bowed in respect to Tymos and Kryslie.

  John spoke under his breath to Tymos. “I know some of the servants think we are jumped up commoners, so they must be bowing to you and Kryslie. How come? I know Governor Tymoros is fostering you, but you are from Earth too, like us.”

  Tymos glanced at Kryslie before explaining. “Krys and I are Heir Designates to His Majesty.”

  “Oh wow,” Keith whistled. “So are we supposed to bow to you as well?”

  “Please don’t, unless you get told to,” Kryslie said quickly. “It is more than enough that the servants do.”

  “Fact is,” Tymos added. “We may have that rank, but we have absolutely no authority over anyone. In fact, Morov, my attendant, has more authority than I do.”

  “And Delia keeps telling me what I am meant to be doing,” Kryslie added. “Doesn’t your attendant do that?”

  “Yeah,” John agreed. “But he has been a great help, really. This is all so strange. I still find it hard to believe I am not still on Earth somewhere. I keep expecting to wake up and have my boss firing me for goofing off.”

  Tymos caught John’s arm and stopped him walking on. Kryslie and Keith stopped as well.

  “The four of us are unusual,” Tymos said soberly. “Krys and I don’t even know why we developed the power we have, but Father implies that there must be a reason. If that is true for us, it is no less so for you two. Would you really want to go back to Earth? Krys and I don’t recall our life there, but that isn’t the issue. We know we need to master our power.”

  “They will begin training you both in earnest soon,” Kryslie predicted. “If it would be easier, you could ask Governor Xyron to suppress your memories…”

  John interrupted with, “That doesn’t matter. I can already tell that my life here has so much more potential. I can’t help feeling that as they have you helping us that we are important - perhaps we are meant to help you.”

  Tymos shrugged.

  John copied him and added, “Let’s just say that being friends with Governor Tymoros’s heirs is a huge jump in status, and I can do things now that I couldn’t do before.”

  Keith said quietly, “Like using a transmitter.”

  “Yeah, like that. Anyway, I have been thinking I should change my name…like you two did.”

  Tymos and Kryslie waited for John to continue.

  “Jonko,” he decided. “Like my name, but…more.”

  “Jonko,” Tymos repeated, and then he met Keith’s eyes as if asking a question.

  Keith shook his head as if disagreeing, but he wasn’t. “I have absolutely no desire to return to my old life.” It came out sounding like a shameful admission. “I never told you the kind of life I had at home. I have lived with a succession of foster parents, and the last lot were horrid. I don’t miss them at all. Can you suggest a new name for me?”

  “Keleb,” Tymos suggested after a pause for thought. Keith tried the name softly and nodded.

  “I am Keleb.”

  A tinkling chime sounded.

  “That’s the signal for the end of lessons,” Kryslie explained. “Where are you expected to be now?”

  “I have no idea,” Jonko shrugged. He glanced around to look for his attendant. The man had appeared as if conjured.

  “You are to dine with his Excellency Governor Xyron this evening,” the man stated.

  “I think I would prefer to go back to the infirmary,” Keleb said. “I am starting to feel really tired.”

  Tymos turned to his friend and saw his face was very pale and his eyes were blank. He reached out just as Keleb began to shiver violently and grabbed him before his legs began to buckle. However, a violent spasm sent Keleb’s arms jerking out.

  Kryslie saw her brother flung sideways, and felt the power in the blow as if it had struck her. Before she could move to help her brother, the nearest security guard restrained her. A second guard went to Keleb and was holding his flailing arms down onto the ground. Kryslie twisted around, to demand she be allowed to help her brother, but saw a third guard speaking into an inconspicuous communicator. The fourth was ordering the group of servants coming to help Prince Tymos, to move back and return to work.

  Jonko’s attendant was holding him firmly, and Keleb’s was kneeling beside his charge and speaking in calm tones, that were having no effect on Keleb.

  “Damn it all!” Jonko swore, still trying to wrest himself free. “Why is he like that again? Can’t they see he can’t help it? What are they doing to him?”

  “The spasms are abating, Jonko,” Kryslie told him. “What ever he is doing is helping.”

  “I don’t understand.” Jonko was still trying to get free to help his friend.

  Kryslie glanced at her brother, sensed nothing from his mind, sighed and tried again.

  “You two are still at a difficult stage. You have become stronger, smarter, and more physically able than you were. However, your body is still not used to the power you received, and you have only just started to learn how to control it and use it.”

  “So?”

  “When you are tired, the power can control your movements. With training, and when you are fully acclimatised, the spasms will abate.”

  Medics brought two stretchers; Keleb was lifted onto one, still jerking, but only feebly. An oval of purple light appeared nearby, hovering in the air. The two medic stretcher-bearers walked into the oval of light and disappeared. Keleb’s attendant followed. Morov and Delia appeared through it moments later.

  “What about Tymos? Are they just going to leave him there?” Jonko demanded.

  “Help is coming, master Jonko,” his attendant assured him.

  Kryslie added, “He’ll be fine. Keleb needed attention first. Tym and I are more used to being here.”

  Jonko accepted that, and Kryslie was relieved. He didn’t need to know how forcefully Keleb had struck her twin, or how, at the instant of contact, a surge of power had seared her mind. She had a violent headache and was beginning to feel her body trembling.

  To distract them both, she commented, “You wouldn’t worry about Tym if you knew how hard Perrin Reslic has been pounding us each afternoon.”

  “Even though you are Heir Designates?” Jonko asked in surprise.

  “That rank has no privileges for us yet and probably because we are that, and we didn’t get all the early training the youngsters here get. He keeps telling us that the other youngsters can do this or that better than we do, and mutters about strength to power ratios…”

  Jonko shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just that…” Kryslie stopped when Keleb’s attendant returned, and spoke to Jonko.

  “You are to go to the rooms that have been assigned to you and a meal will be brought there. Your Guardian will wish to speak to you later.”

  “Kryslie?” Jonko asked as his attendant urged him towards the purple glow.
/>
  She managed a grin. “I’m fine and they had better not try to make me leave before they come for my brother.”

  Morov was hovering over Tymos when Alexon arrived with the two returning med-techs. Tymoros arrived while he was examining Tymos.

  The guard stepped back from Kryslie as Tymoros asked what had happened.

  “Keleb said he was tired, Father. Tymos was in the wrong place.”

  “Keleb?” Tymoros queried.

  “Keith and John have decided to change their names. They like it here,” Kryslie said quickly. She was watching her brother being lifted onto a stretcher. He was taken away and Alexon approached.

  “Concussion,” he reported to Tymoros. “And a bit of backlash from the power surge. We’ll treat him and keep him asleep until morning.”

  Kryslie felt some tension leave her father. “Delia, bring Kryslie to my suite once she has cleaned up for dinner. I think that a quiet meal there would be best.”

  “I will come by later and check you over, Princess Kryslie,” Alexon said.

  “But I’m fine. I wasn’t knocked out.”

  “Perhaps so,” Alexon agreed. “But a shock to your brother may affect you.”

  Kryslie was about to object when her father spoke. “An excellent idea, Alexon, and I won’t permit objections, Kryslie. If you think back to the incident when your brother was lost, you ought to agree.”

  She did think back and decided her current weird feelings were due to sensing her brother’s hurt through the twin bond. She did not think Alexon could do anything about that.

  The sonic shower in her suite eased the headache and most of the shakiness. When she had finished Kryslie felt tired and would have preferred to go straight to bed. Delia though, being obedient to orders, chivvied her charge into agreeing to eat first. She frowned thoughtfully when Kryslie allowed herself to be helped to dress. Lately her mistress had protested forcefully if Delia tried to help her.

  Nor did Kryslie object when Delia transmitted her to the High King’s suite, but she went directly to one of the deep armchairs and collapsed into it.

  She barely ate anything of the meal, even when given it on a tray. When Alexon came to check her over, she admitted to being tired and didn’t notice the glance that Alexon exchanged with Tymorous. She heard him say, “It seems to be an empathic reaction to her brother’s accident. There is nothing that I can find to suggest otherwise. Delia, would you help her to bed. Sleep is probably the best idea.”

  It was a relief when Kryslie climbed into her bed. It felt blissful, and she didn’t even remember to dismiss Delia for the night. She was sure she would soon be asleep….

  She wasn’t.

  After lying awake for an hour, Kryslie left her bed and went to get a drink from the tiny cooler in the main section of her private room. Only when she had the drink in her hand did she realise how hot she felt and she placed the cool bottle against her flushed face. When it no longer felt cool, she drank a mouthful and immediately felt sick. Leaving the bottle on top of the cooler, she went to the nearest chair to sit down. Even sitting up, she was unable to sleep. Her head seemed to be spinning…

  “Delia….” she called, as her whole body began to shake.

  Even though her work shift ended once Kryslie had finished her evening meal, Delia had not left her mistress’s suite. Before being assigned to Kryslie, she had been a medical technician, and was familiar with the signs of transition sickness. Her senses had been warning her, even before taking Kryslie to have her meal.

  Governor Xyron had warned her, once she had been assigned, that Kryslie and her brother might transition to second stage without warning. He hoped that the training they had received would be enough to lessen the abruptness. However, with children that were raised on alien worlds, sometimes it wasn’t.

  Delia mentally considered the unsaid facts. Kryslie and her brother must have a very high potential or they would not have become the High King’s Heir Designates. She had seen it before, high potential, insufficient training… but the teachers had been pleased with her mistress’s progress.

  None of the thoughts vanquished the uneasy feeling, so Delia sat herself in one of the chairs in the outer suite and resigned herself to a sleepless night.

  The suite was quiet, but with the door to the sleeping area open, she was aware of Kryslie getting up, going to get a drink, moving to the chair and debated going in…until Kryslie called for her.

  Within moments, Delia had evaluated Kryslie’s symptoms and was using the communicator near the door to summon medics.

  The first to arrive, however, was Tymoros, even though Delia had not dared to disturb him. She was relieved though, because as soon as he arrived, he went to his daughter and took one of her hands. Kryslie’s shivering abated immediately.

  Her voice was barely audible when she asked, “Father, what is the matter with me. I am so cold and dizzy and nauseous.”

  “Transition sickness,” Tymoros said calmly. “This is not unexpected. The medics can give you something to make you sleep until the worst is past.”

  “I hope they hurry, but I don’t think I can swallow anything.”

  “Just sit back and try to relax. Try one of the basic meditation exercises.”

  Delia busied herself by collecting things her mistress would need for a stay in the infirmary, but she kept glancing at Tymoros and felt he needed to take his own advice. Not that she could blame him for being tense and worried. First with Tymos being concussed, and now with Kryslie being ill.

  Transition sickness was serious when the child wasn’t prepared for it, or some shock brought it on. The first few hours after the onset, were the most critical.

  It seemed like a long time before Alexon transmitted into the room. He examined Kryslie with his hand held diagnostic scanner and spoke quietly to Tymoros.

  Delia heard him reply, “I have grounded the power build up, but it is still surging.”

  Alexon told Kryslie he was going to give her an injection, but she didn’t seem aware of his words or the hypo-spray that touched her neck. That was the fastest way to get medication into a patient and Kryslie was asleep in seconds.

  “I will organise a stretcher,” Alexon said, putting the hypo-sprayer back in a pouch on his belt.

  Tymoros overruled him. “I will carry her to the infirmary. That way I can keep damping the power surges.”

  “As you wish, Sire. I have an intensive care unit ready.”

  Delia accompanied them when they transmitted to the infirmary, and kept her own worries hidden. She helped the med techs settle her mistress, and to attach the medical monitors. When she had finished, she had questions for the young med-tech and his answers did not reassure her.

  “Often with twins, there is a bond. It seems that the shock of her brother’s accident brought on the transition and negated the control she has achieved. When they arrived, both Kryslie and her brother were in the early stages of transition, and Governor Xyron had to block it. They don’t need to do it often, but it usually enables the child to get enough training. However, we think that the channels that handle the power were already part way open, and the power is surging and backing up.”

  “I see,” Delia managed to sound neutral and uninvolved. “That makes sense.”

  Too much, she thought as she moved away. It explained by Tymoros was hovering and staying in contact with Kryslie. If he was grounding out the power surges, and Alexon had not raised objections, did that mean the surges were so strong that only one of the Governor’s could handle them?

  She watched Tymoros face for a while and saw the occasional twitches in his muscles and face. She felt sympathy for him, and sent a mental plea to the guardians to help Kryslie through the crisis.

  She jumped when Aldiv ghosted up behind her.

  “Prince Tymos is sleeping easily and his concussion is healing. How is Princess Kryslie?”

  A shrug was all Delia could give for an answer. In this critical time, if the power surges were too g
reat, brain damage could result.

  “It isn’t fair,” Delia whispered. “His Majesty has come to love them like his own and they may die - like all the others.”

  She felt the gentle hand on her shoulder. “Have faith. The Guardians did not bring them here just so they could die. My master will fight with all he has to keep them alive. At least this time he can do something.”

  Aldiv moved away and went to ask Tymoros if he had further need for him. A headshake was all the answer he got.

  “I will see he eats and drinks,” Delia offered. “I am not going anywhere.”

  With a smile of understanding, Aldiv accepted the offer.

  It had gone from afternoon to full night, and Delia was dozing in a chair, though still with her mind attuned to the rhythm of the monitors and the sounds of Kryslie’s breathing. Near midnight, she woke when the door to the room swished open. At first, she thought it was the medical attendant coming to check on Kryslie, but the voice that spoke to Tymoros was that of his consort, Tanya.

  “You need to go and rest/ I will stay with Kryslie.”

  “No, I need to be here, to protect her,” Tymoros’s voice was low and desperate.

  Tanya tried to convince him, but nothing she said made a difference. She glanced over at Delia, and in the dim light, it seemed as if her eyes were asking for help.

  Delia though His Majesty should go and rest, so she rose and came over to the bed. There, she scanned the readings in the data pad hanging at the end of the bed, and then checked the playback on each monitor.

  “How is she?” Tanya asked.

  “The readings have been stable for the last hour. They are still very high, but no surges. I think you have done all you can for now, you should rest while you can. I expect her brother will contrive to catch up with her as soon as he wakes up.”

  “You’re right,” Tymoros agreed, standing up and grimacing as his muscles protested. “My son should be waking in the morning.”

  Tanya sat where her consort had been, and took hold of Kryslie’s hand. The dim lights showed her pale face, seemingly merely asleep. This child was something special. An incredible miracle, a child so genetically like Tymoros that she could have been sired by him and yet wasn’t. It didn’t matter though. Since Kryslie and her brother had been around, her consort had begun to smile more often, and the deep sadness that she had always sensed in him, had eased. She was thankful for that.

  The deaths of his five children had effectively killed Morai, Tymoros’s first consort. As serene as she had been, the grief had been stronger. Tymoros had grieved deeply. Morai had been his much-loved consort for twenty-four years.

  Tanya had known all that when Tymoros had proposed to her. She had understood his reluctance to sire more children if he had to watch them die. Yet he was High King and subject to the ancient law that he must marry again to produce heirs to inherit from him. Yet, try as she might, for the ten years since they had been together, she had not conceived. Yet it wasn’t because she was barren, or Ty infertile. Maybe it just hadn’t been the right time…

  Kryslie and her brother had to be gifts from the Guardians of Peace, and perhaps they had needed to come here before…they allowed her to conceive. Maybe they were to be the protectors of her child.

  Tanya placed a hand on her stomach and thought of the joyous news she had received that very afternoon, thought of the royal child she had finally conceived.

  Whatever the reason, it seemed that the coming of Tymos and Kryslie had brought about the miracle she had prayed for.

  Morning came, and within moments of waking, Tymos began to shiver violently. Morov summoned Alexon immediately. Within a very short time, Tymos was in a bed next to his sister.

  Tymoros returned and sat with him, as he had done for Kryslie. He sent Morov off to bed, and Delia to have breakfast.

  Tanya did not leave immediately, but sat on the arm of the chair with an arm around her consort’s shoulder. She wanted to share her news with him, but she sensed his mind was elsewhere. He wasn’t completely ignoring her, for he answered her questions. She asked why he was so worried about Tymos and Kryslie when Royal children had transitioned from first to second stage for generations.

  Tymoros favoured her with a smile. “You’ve mainly been involved with the young ones,” he said resting his head on her shoulder. “You don’t have much to do with them once they have left the nursery. Transition isn’t usually a problem. Most children experience some discomfort, but they are well prepared for the increase in their abilities. It is not quite like when a boy’s voice changes, or when a child begins puberty, but the problems are usually no worse. Sometimes, they become hyperactive, because they have so much more energy and power than they can control. Their training isn’t the problem, and we supervise them, keep them physically and mentally challenged and they settle very quickly.”

  “But Tymos and Kryslie haven’t been here very long,” Tanya said thoughtfully. “Were they not trained wherever they were before?”

  Tymoros shook his head. “No, they were quite unexpected, as their biological parents were not both Tymorean born. That leads to the other problem. They have a very high potential, and I don’t think they have reached it yet. Much of their present power has been channelled into aiding their bodies to withstand the higher gravity we have here. We are doing everything we can to help them build their physique. That is happening, slowly. You may have noticed that their hair has changed to red? They are slowly becoming more Tymorean than Earth human.”

  Tanya used her free hand to stroke Tymoros’s cheek; she knew it relaxed him. “Well, I believe that they will be well soon.”

  “I want to believe that,” Tymoros said in a low voice.

  “They will. If you believe that the Guardians created them and hid them until now to be safe, then I believe they are here now to protect their baby brother.”

  Tymoros tensed and shifted his position to see his consort’s face. “Do you mean….Are you…?” He couldn’t articulate the wild hope she had just given him.

  “Yes. Xyron confirmed it. I am six weeks pregnant.”

  When their pulse and breathing returned to normal, Tymos and Kryslie were taken to Professor Xyron’s laboratory for observation. They slept for a further day before waking.

  Kryslie had roused first. She recognized her surroundings and was not surprised to find herself wearing one of the pale blue isolation suits.

  Tymos woke a few minutes later. He rolled onto his side, saw his sister sitting up and grinned wryly. “Do I look as haggard as you do?”

  She nodded.

  “I feel disgustingly well,” he commented. “So why are we in the glass cage?”

  Kryslie simply pointed to the objects on the floor.

  “You saw Jonko and Keleb,” she reminded him. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  She reached for a metal cube and threw it at her brother. “Catch!”

  The object had felt light, and in fact, her gentle throw sent the thing flying at Tymos at high speed. He acted instinctively to catch the metal ingot in a firm grip before it slammed into his chest. Once his hands stopped stinging from the impact, he examined the ingot and saw where his fingers had pressed into the metal. With deliberate intent, he easily moulded the metal into a ball and rolled it back at his sister.

  Kryslie jumped to avoid having her foot broken. Tymos gasped in amazement when he saw her rise halfway to the ceiling. However, she landed heavily.

  “Ouch!” was her comment as she pushed herself up from the floor. “I was only trying to hop over your little projectile.”

  Tymos shook his head in disbelief. “Wow! I mean, I don’t feel any different. I’m not going to try that. If I did, I think I’d hit the ceiling.”

  “Well, I guess that’s why we are in here,” Kryslie’s voice shook. “Imagine what would have happened if we were like this and were playing with the little ones…”

  “Yeah,” Tymos saw the picture, too clearly, and shuddered. “Do you th
ink we’d better find out the worst?”

  Kryslie nodded.

  With out any conversation between them they scientifically investigated the objects placed within the room - first the solid objects and then those of lesser strength. They didn’t try to control themselves. The solid objects warped and the lesser objects broke or shattered.

  Kryslie sat back on her mattress and surveyed the mess. “I wonder how many times we can wreck our toys?” she thought to herself and was startled by the grin on her twin’s face.

  “Oh, I think we can do this as often as we like and get away with it!” he thought in turn, and Kryslie heard the words in her head.

  She grinned back – this was better than simply thinking alike.

  “The challenge I suppose is to withhold our strength,” Kryslie thought with a glance at her brother.

  Tymos nodded and spoke aloud this time. “I wouldn’t mind some food if there are any utensils proof against us.” He looked pointedly at where he knew the observation room was situated. He had no doubt that they were being monitored even though they had seen no one in Xyron’s laboratory since waking.

  Xyron responded to Tymos’s remark. He transmitted into the room.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I woke up feeling great,” Kryslie admitted. “But now I am feeling shaky.”

  “Me too,” Tymos agreed. “Are we relapsing? Is this normal for other people? ”

  “You are over the transition sickness. Now it is just a matter of realising your new strength. The walls are simply to contain your experiments. Once you can demonstrate a degree of control, I will entrust you back in your father’s care.”

  “Yeah, the strength bit we’ve figured that. Control is still a way off. Can we have new toys to experiment with?” Tymos asked.

  “I want you to eat and rest before you do anymore. Control is always harder when you are tired. After you have rested, there will be fresh ‘toys’ for you. I will have two of the med-techs help you to the necessary, and then bring you your food. If you break the utensils, you will need to use your fingers. They should be proof against your strength.”

  Tymos grinned wryly at having his joke returned to him. He smiled wryly when he did end up using his fingers to eat with.

  They had no choice about resting, their food contained a relaxant and they fell asleep soon after eating all of the high-energy meal. The pattern was repeated over the next few days as they tried to control their strength, so nothing was warped or broken.

  It was not until the fifth day, that they succeeded in lasting all day without breaking anything. Kryslie was almost crying with exhaustion, and Tymos was trembling when Xyron entered the room.

  “You have done very well,” he told both children.

  “I feel dreadful,” Tymos refuted. “Worse than when you put us in here.”

  With a gesture, Xyron directed Tymos to lie on one of the beds. This had become a routine matter, so Tymos was ready for the diagnostic machine to come down over him.

  “Everything is fine,” Xyron assured him. “I’ll have the kitchen staff prepare you a high energy meal. A good night’s rest will complete the cure. In the morning you will be able to go back to your father’s care.”

  As soon as Xyron released them into the care of their attendants, Kryslie and Tymos requested to go to their own suites. Then, when they had shed the infirmary suits, and donned comfortable day clothes, they went to speak with their foster father.

  Tymoros was in his private sanctum, preparing for his day’s work. When he heard the gentle knock, he indicated with a glance for his attendant, Aldiv, to open the door.

  His children entered, bowed in unison – with the correct degree of respect, and stood waiting for his attention.

  Tymoros left his work and walked from behind his desk. He smiled at them, “Come and sit down. I am glad to see you have recovered.” He did not mention that they still lacked colour and the bones of their faces were sharply defined.

  He settled himself in his favourite chair, in a corner away from his desk. He gestured for his children to come closer. Kryslie took a cushion from a two-seater couch and settled on it so she could lean against her foster father’s chair. Tymos pulled up a second chair. Both were glad they did not have to stand.

  “Father, Governor Xyron told us to come and talk to you before our appointment with President Reslic,” Tymos said quietly.

  “I wanted to reassure myself that you were well again,” he admitted. I also need to explain some things to you. Things that you might not be aware of since you did not grow up on Tymorea.”

  Kryslie looked at him expectantly.

  “I know you have learnt about your increased strength, and perhaps you may now realise why we needed to keep you closely observed. We could not predict when you would come into your adult power.”

  “We might have hurt some of the youngsters,” Kryslie said.

  Tymoros reached down an arm and hugged her. He drew Tymos into the embrace with the other arm, and felt the tension leaving both of them.

  “There will be other abilities you will become aware of. Your senses should be sharper, as well as your ability to learn and reason. In all ways, you should be physically more able. The afternoon exercises that you will be given to do are designed to make you aware of all your new abilities and teach you to call on them at need. That is why Jono will be evaluating you today. Of course, all the senior students are under his supervision and by now, you know that he expects total compliance and total effort from all his students.”

  Kryslie nodded. She knew that very well.

  “I still don’t know why we have this power,” Tymos blurted.

  “Nor do I, but I will ever be grateful to the Guardians of Peace that they bestowed it on you.” Tymoros did not try to hide the trace of tears in his eyes. “Now you must put all your will into mastering that power.”

  “It is hard,” Kryslie said, hugging her knees. “I am afraid of touching anything in case I break something or hurt someone.”

  “That you are thinking that way is a positive sign,” Tymoros commended. “The Supreme Guardians deplore weakness. Weak minds can be influenced to evil deeds and seek power for themselves or will turn on and destroy things they can’t control. We train our children to be strong; to seek peace, not destruction.”

  “But what if we can’t? What if we fail?” Tymos asked.

  Fleeting thoughts passed through Tymoros’s mind. An incident in his youth, a bright haired girl, once sweet natured, becoming a screaming harridan and causing grief to many before … his father had acted.

  Tymoros sharply blocked the memory. He took a deep, calming breath.

  “You must master the power and make it your servant. We don’t make the training easy and we will test you in many ways. To feel daunted just now, before you start, is to be expected. No one says you can’t ask for help.”

  “I know that,” Tymos agreed. “But what if it does get too much…” He tried not to think about the glimpse he had had into Tymoros’s mind, or his fleeting memory of Zacary.

  “If we see that your control is weakening, we will administer any necessary corrective measures.”

  Kryslie shuddered. “Father, we won’t give you – or the Guardians – any reason to be angry with us,” she promised. She reached an arm around the King’s leg and hugged it.

  “We will trust your judgement, Father,” Tymos said, quietly. He wished he could forget that unwittingly shared vision. He sensed his twin searching for a distraction and was relieved when she spoke up.

  “Father? What language are we speaking?”

  “The main Tymorean dialect,” Tymoros answered, and then waited for Kryslie to continue.

  “Is it the same language … I mean, I think we were speaking this dialect when we were talking to Jonko and Keleb, and they always understood us. Yet they didn’t understand anyone else for a while.”

  “It may be you have some telepathy and can project the meaning of your
words directly to them,” Tymoros suggested. “Some of us have that ability.”

  Kryslie glanced up at her twin. Tymos merely shrugged. “More than a touch,” he thought at her.

  “We did notice that your friends’ grasp of our language improved once you were spending time with them. In fact, they were granted Tymorean citizenship yesterday, under Xyron’s sponsorship. They are being evaluated this morning to see where they will start in the large lyceum.”

  “Can we introduce them to our friends now?” Tymos asked, looking hopeful.

  “That would be a good idea,” Tymoros agreed and Tymos grinned. “After Jono has finished with you, you can join them down on the Royal Court for lunch. Enchon will find you afterwards to get your room terminals logged into the education web and the compedia.”

  Tymos looked interested. He hadn’t had much time to use the terminal in his room yet.

  “Then this evening, you might like to join Tanya and I for the evening meal.”

  Tymos and Kryslie decided to change into clothing suitable for exercise - loose fitting coveralls in a tough reddish brown fabric. These were not the same as most students wore, for they had the two gold stripes around collar and cuffs to indicate they were of high rank and in the High King’s family. Even with the detour, they were still early for their appointment and sat outside Reslic’s private gymnasium, to wait. Within the President’s palace, they did not have their normal guard-escorts, and that was refreshing. They jumped up when Jonko and Keleb emerged from the room, flushed and smiling. Both were subtly different now, compared to a week ago.

  “Tymos, Kryslie, where’ve you been?” Jonko asked, grinning delightedly at seeing them.

  “In your glass cage,” Tymos said lightly.

  “Why?” Keleb asked, then added, “Oh, yes. You had transition sickness. I heard the servants talking. They were acting as if you were at death’s door.”

  “Those servants were being very indiscreet,” Kryslie said, glancing away from her friends.

  “Perhaps they were. Though they probably didn’t realise we could understand them. However, I think what they said was true. You both look like hell.”

  “Nonsense, they were training us for weeks to prepare us for transition,” Tymos insisted.

  “They have been training us to exhaustion to get us over ours!” Jonko retorted. “And we never looked as bad as you do.”

  “We’re fine,” Kryslie quietly assured them, though she still had doubts. “I heard they granted you citizenship.”

  Jonko touched the gold ring on his right index finger. “Yes, they finally decided to trust us. You notice we no longer have our security guard shadows.”

  He didn’t seem to notice that he was rapidly rotating the ring on his finger.

  “It has never been a lack of trust,” Tymos answered sharply. “You were at a difficult stage of your development. Even I can see the difference in you now you have begun training. You are calmer and your voices are softer…”

  Kryslie continued in a soft voice, “If they didn’t trust you, you wouldn’t be here now. They would never have granted you citizenship or Royal Status.”

  “Royal Status?” Jonko queried with eyebrows raised.

  “Yes – you are now part of Governor Xyron’s family.” She pointed to the two silver stripes on the clothes they wore.

  “We’re half human freaks!” Keleb blurted. “Well, more than half. I had a Tymorean relative three, no four, generations back on my mother’s side. The servants barely tolerate us and don’t think I haven’t worked out that the only other commoners on this estate are the Royal Consorts.”

  “We can introduce you to our friends at lunchtime today and I think once we all start having lessons in the large lyceum – everyone will realise you belong here.”

  “You never had that trouble,” Jonko noted.

  “You never had to have lessons with the babies either,” Tymos retorted. “Or have to have someone let you into and out of class, while the same babies were able to transmit themselves.”

  Jonko grinned at the vision. “No, I guess I didn’t and won’t either. We have transmitters now too.”

  “Jon, I think we’d better go to the library,” Keleb suddenly suggested, nodding in the direction of an elegantly dressed Royal Attendant.

  Tymos turned, recognised Yeven and said a quick, “See you at lunch.”

  Yeven bowed slightly. “Prince Tymos, Princess Kryslie – the President is waiting for you.”

  Kryslie answered. “Thank you, Yeven.”

  The man bowed again and gestured for them to precede him.

  Reslic stood in the centre of the equipment. He turned as they approached and watched them as they stopped two feet away and bowed a greeting. After they had straightened, he walked closer to them. First, he held Kryslie’s chin in a gentle grip and scanned her face, and then he repeated the action with Tymos. He nodded to himself, and with a slight smile, addressed them.

  “Let me see if you can still do your basic exercises. Warm up with a slow trot around the room.”

  For the next three hours, Reslic worked Tymos and Kryslie until they were dripping with perspiration, and so tired that they could only collapse gracelessly onto a padded mat.

  “Well done,” Reslic praised them. His own exercise clothes were barely mussed and he was not even perspiring, even though he had performed most of the exercise he had asked them to do.

  Neither Tymos nor Kryslie had the energy to reply. They did not notice Reslic summoning his attendant with a gesture or Yeven’s return until he came to them with two cups of the lime flavoured restorative drink.

  “Drink up,” Reslic instructed.

  “You have both made an excellent recovery from the transition sickness. You will be able to join your Earth friends in level Zeta, tomorrow.”

  Kryslie looked up in surprise.

  “Level Zeta, Sir? I thought we’d be in the lowest level.”

  “Are you questioning my judgement, Princess Kryslie?”

  “No, Sir,” Kryslie answered quickly. “It’s just that I know we have missed a lot of lessons.”

  “Zeta,” Reslic repeated. “And I will arrange for you to have extra lessons to make up for the five years you missed.”

  Reslic hid a smile when he saw Tymos scowl at his twin.

  “Go and collect your friends from the library. It is almost lunchtime. I believe that Stenn is most anxious to meet them.”