Envoy to Earth (27 page)

Like
he
cared? He was a
midget that had become a giant. Gerent was hardly one to judge the idea of
being something inside that the outside didn't reflect.

"That's fine. Do you go by Misha?
If you really want the job, it's yours. Anyone that wants to help right now
pretty much can. In the morning I'm heading back to Harmony, but you can come
along and help with whatever comes up. Crew on the ship for now? We have to
give back all the volunteers, I think. It's sad, since I hardly even know any of
them yet. That will leave just a few of us. Four or five, I think." They
could run the vessel with that many, if they all did their part. Less than
that, if he left it small for the trip. There were logistical problems with
that, since leaving it large would mean being able to take in air and water.
Small meant being maneuverable and not losing as much of those resources if he
had to turn it off.

The hand came out again, stabbing
at the air, for him to shake. Glaren tittered into her sleeve, which didn't seem
to be meant kindly, for all that she was normally a wonderful lady. It was
pretty clear that this one, Misha, was the one they kept hidden away from the
world when they could. In shame, as if she had mental problems.

She seemed pleased enough
suddenly, as he shook back.

"What do I need to do
first?"

He thought for a bit and then
used his whole hand to gesture at Glaren.

"Let's set up a food unit in
the kitchen, and then see about getting a full load of working material for it?
It can turn almost anything into food, so rocks and dirt from outside? Don't
make a face, it's better food than the palace is serving tonight, and they're
eating rocks too. Not so much dirt, I hear? That's just silliness on their part
though, since that's easier to get."

At first it was clear that she
thought he was joking, but when they set up the new food device in the kitchen,
she took it a bit more seriously. It was huge, for the room. Glaren actually
touched the wall and walked it back, so that they could reset the thing in place,
and then she formed a hallway leading to the side, so that people could easily
get things from outside for it. It was eerily long and had nothing else inside
of it but golden colored walls. At the far end there would be a door, he hoped.
It was hard to make out, being so distant. It was running past dozens of large
rooms, he bet. The place wasn't tiny.

Misha might have had some strange
views about what she was, inside, but that didn't keep her from working like a
trooper when the time came. Not that it was hard to jog down and fill a
floating case using an earth mover. Gerent made it a little more difficult, by
letting Misha do it, instead of him. That meant they made a mess at first, but
the stream of dirt flying through the air finally managed to get the case
filled, and they were headed back to the kitchen not too long after. They
loaded the machine with the whole case at once.

Gerent floated it into place,
using the large port on the side of the food unit, which was a brilliant gem
blue, all over. The food came out about seven feet away, with a board that had
a lot of different words on it between the two points. He got enough of the
simple ones to realize that they were all the names of various foods. Simple
things. There were a lot of words over the main sigil, which Glaren read
through out loud for them. She didn't seem to be looking at him when she did
it, so it might have just been being polite.

"It seems to be pretty
similar to the old style unit. Let me see here..." She placed a delicate
tan hand on the blue glowing word, and closed her eyes. After a minute there
was a soft humming sound in the air, so she opened the cabinet door to show the
entire roasted turkey that was there. It looked perfect. It even smelled right,
and had a dozen roast potatoes along the outer edge of the fine china platter
it was on.

He blinked, because
that
was a new portion of things. Not only was this a lot bigger than anything that
could have been made in a first generation unit, but it was on its own plate,
made by the machine.

Glaren waved at the thing, and
smiled, "Monty, please set this up on the counter and carve it for us? It
will look more real that way. I'll start on the first courses. Ready the
serving area. Everyone? Please stand by, this will move a bit more quickly than
normal. Come, come. Everyone stand ready! We have guests, so need at least
fifteen courses. Michelle, Gerent... Would it be possible to get more...
Working material? I think that we might need it."

They would, if the device made
plates, pots, and platters too. That would eat the dirt faster than the food
would, being very dense. It wasn't a huge problem, so he just headed out, with Misha
jogging slowly behind him. She gasped a little on the far end, but didn't
comment, even if he did all the work this time. That really meant there was no
reason for the woman to come along, but she didn't complain. Not about that.

"Mother knows that I don't
want to be called Michelle. I think she takes it as a personal insult that I
don't like the name. Misha is a compromise as it is. I
wanted
to be
called Michael, but father insisted that I not confuse people that much. I know
that she loves me, but... Not really, you know? If it wasn't for Bonita
standing up for me, they probably would have tucked me away somewhere a long
time ago, and forgotten where they'd kept me. They didn't let me know about
Ginger for months after she died, so that I wouldn't embarrass them at the
funeral. Luckily for me my sister wanted me around after her husband the Count
died. You knew him? Same last name..."

That he hadn't come up in
conversation wasn't that big of deal, Gerent knew. Bonita had always been kind
to him when they'd met, but it had only been a few times. The fiction that had
saved him from the gallows seemed to mean something to the Count, who'd treated
him as a real son. His new wife had been sweet about it, but probably didn't
need a boy that was both older than she was, and strange. She was supposed to
have been focused on her own world and life at the time, and that made sense.
She was young and newly married, so it was what should have happened.

Still, younger than him or not,
or at least nearly the same age, the woman was still his mother. As much as
that made him feel a bit strange inside. He'd never really thought of that
before, had he?

"He was my adopted father.
Bonita's my mother, and that isn't a joke either, as much as it seems funny. I
should visit with her. Do you know where she is?"

That, it turned out, was up in
her room inside, since she wasn't feeling well. That... he took understanding
of from context. She wasn't
ill
, since a healing amulet would have been
gotten for her if that were the case, and if she were pregnant, there would
have been an announcement, so it wasn't
that
. The entire Baker family
would have probably stepped out of the line of advancement, if it were the
case. So she was, he feared, suffering from a broken heart. People could die of
that. In stories at least.

He nearly ran directly to her.
There was a war inside of him over the issue. On the one hand he didn't know
what to
do
, so just kept working, filling the box and walking back
toward the kitchen. On the other, he
didn't
know what to do, so moved
slower than he would have, trying to think. That was rational, wasn't it? Misha
moved along behind him, and finally touched his shoulder. It was a firm and
somewhat manly grip, not that of a woman trying to get his amorous attention.
It fit the situation however.

"So, nephew, I guess I owe
you some birthday presents?" There was humor in it, and it came with a
friendlier smile than he'd seen from her yet.

"Not really. I don't need
anything, except to help other people. Since you're working on that already, or
will be in the morning, I can't ask for more than that. We... Should we ask
Bonita to come with us? I know that everyone in Harmony, her family... They'd
love to have her." Actually, he wasn't really certain of that at all. They
seemed like the kind of people that would want to have a relative come and
visit, but what did he know? They might have just been being kind to
him
the whole time.

Rather than wonder if he was
right or not, which was his first impulse, he stopped and dug out his
communications device and thought for a moment, as Misha looked on. After a few
seconds, he shrugged and hit the right combination of sigils to bring up a
name. It wasn't the person there that he was closest to, since that was Patty,
and he needed to leave her alone for a while longer. Be her friend and not
burden her with unwelcome feelings. Timon... He might be working, and the same
was always true of Tor.

The kids were, as advanced as
they might be, still children. That left the parents. Laurie and Douglas. For
some reason, Gerent didn't really want to talk to his sister, adopted or not.
She wasn't mean to him, and had never put him down in any way, but he always
felt like she
wanted
to. That her disapproval of all men made her judge
him so harshly that he could never measure up to expectations. It was probably
all in his head, but it still meant that he was more comfortable hitting the
code that would get him Douglas Baker.

After about half a minute, a
tired voice came over the device. It showed a picture, but it was no more than
mere shadows in a very dark room, the only light probably being from the device
in the man's hand.

"Emergency?" He sounded
half asleep and Gerent nearly said no, but shrugged.

"This is Gerent. Um, would
you and your family be open to having Bonita-"

The man made a grunting sound,
and sat up, a smaller form moving in next to him, but not speaking. Laurie
probably.

"Is she well? We can send
help, if she needs it. I hadn't thought..." There was patting at a wall,
which made a light glow and showed a dressed man, who was in brown and seemed
to need a shave. Not badly, but it was a manly looking thing. A hint of facial
hair, on an otherwise youthful and clean face. Laurie, when she came into the
scene, looked like a girl of about nineteen, matching her husband in apparent
age, and about as lovely as anyone ever could be, even just having woken up
like she had.

Gerent didn't really know what
the situation was, but Misha leaned in and explained for him, which was good,
since it saved a lot of time.

"Bonita hasn't been doing
well. The sadness of losing her new husband has weighed on her heavily. It
would, I don't know if it will help, but if she could visit with you?"

There was no hesitation at all.
Not even enough to take a full breath, before the man answered.

"Yes. Definitely. We can set
up a room for her here, with us. We might have to argue with Tor and Alyssa
over the privilege, but we thought of it first. Good call, Gerent. When can she
be here?"

He thought about it, and then
shrugged a bit.

"That depends on what she
wants to do. I'm going to try and enlist her in the aid project, if I can.
She's... family, after all."

For some reason that was enough
for the people he talked to, so far away in the sky above him. Just the fact
that she was one of them, was a reason to make room. Without question, and
without hesitation.

Blinking he ended the call, and
then finished his task. After that they needed a third load of earth, but it
wasn't hard to do.

Not at all.

Getting Bonita Lairdgren, his
adopted mother, to see anyone was a chore. Gerent had expected her to simply
come down to the meal, since that's what people did, even ones in mourning.
Everyone else managed, so it shocked him a little when he understood that
Bonita hadn't and worse, the woman hadn't even asked a servant to bring her a
tray. It was, Misha assured him, what she'd taken to doing over the last few
months.

She would eat, but only when
someone actually sat with her and made it happen. Otherwise the woman just
sulked and sat in the dark. Alone.

He nodded, fearing that it was
much worse than he'd been informed then. After all, people that did that kind
of thing were as close to dying as anyone, weren't they? Short of taking a
blade to her own neck, what more could she do in an effort to not be in the
world any longer? It was halfway through the meal, which was a long and very
advanced feast, even if the whole thing had been made up on the fly, that he
thought about it really. He was still hungry, but managed to wave to one of the
green clad servers, a dark haired, short man of about five-eleven, and
whispered in his ear.

"Would it be possible for
something to be sent up to Bonita Lairdgren's room? Let me know when that's
ready and I'll take it up myself." Sure, that sounded like he intended to
have sex with her, not just make sure she ate, but if that's what it took, then
he'd do it. Or whore out his family to her. He only had the one adopted parent
left, having killed the other already.

That part of things gave him
pause, the moment he thought about it. Not many had blamed him for the death of
the Ancients yet, but if anyone had a right to do it, other than Dorgal Sorvee,
it was Bonita. He'd executed her
husband
, knowing that he was doing it
at the time. Under that same man's orders, but would that make any difference
to the mind of a person that deep into grief? He feared that he knew the answer
to that and wondered if anything could be done to make her world better. It was
clear that she'd loved the man, which wasn't that hard to understand.

The old Count Lairdgren had been
short, being about five-nine, but was so good looking that most of the people,
men and women, that Gerent had seen in his presence were more than a little
mesmerized by him without understanding why it was happening. It made him easy
to think highly of. Tor was the same way, if larger now. Literally, since the
two men had been physically identical, before Tor started to grow. Both pale
and exotic, but also lovely. Like gems. Things that shone brightly and almost
seemed unreal. Inhuman, nearly.

Laurie and Tiera were the same.
Timon was a bit less so, thankfully and the other kids all had their own faces,
but those two girls, women now, were so perfect that they seemed to have makeup
on all the time. Even when they didn't. So did Tor really. Tim was close enough
to that state too, but in a more masculine fashion. His face held a bit more
hardness to it than the others. A square jaw line and heavier cheek bones.

The point was, Bonita couldn't be
blamed for having liked the kind and gentle man that was her husband, and his
killer bringing her dinner in her room might not be as welcome as he'd thought
at first. Then again, if he didn't try, he wouldn't know and the odds of the
woman trying to kill him were minimal enough. One in five, or so, at a guess.

He fretted over the idea the
whole time, and waited until the server came back to inform him that a tray was
ready in the other room.

"Excuse me everyone. I have
some business to attend to. We'll be leaving at nine in the morning tomorrow,
so please be here, if you intend to go back to Harmony with us. If you're
staying..." He didn't know if that was even allowed, but it wasn't as if
they couldn't get home a few days later, was it? "If you wish to stay for
a time, or longer, please get with me first, so we can set that up. Get you to
the right place for a visit, or what have you. If you want to sign on to my
ship's crew for the duration, please... Get with First Mate Sorvee."

Ger grinned at the man, since
there had been no talk of anything like that, and it was a far cry from being a
King, but he'd be darned if he wasn't going to be the Captain of his own ship.
Almost as if it had been planned the whole time, the man stroked his black
mustache to hide a smile, and raised his right hand, one finger extended. This
got a few people to nod at him, clearly getting the idea that he was the First
Mate then.

The tray wasn't heavy, for all
that it was made of what seemed to be fine china, and took both hands to
balance. It was covered too, which meant that there couldn't be that much food
on it really. The Dowager Lairdgren was on the second floor, near the front,
being only six rooms back, on the right hand side. The server had mentioned
that to him. There was a name on the door, but the nice handwritten looking
impression, made by magic he didn't doubt, might have as well been a different
language. He couldn't make out anything of it.

Balancing the tray on his left
hand, he knocked hard with his right. You didn't tap on the shield doors if you
wanted attention. As it was there was no sound at all, until he did it again
and the thing cracked open. Two blue eyes looked up at him. Confused looking
things, on a tan face that seemed to be dry and not streaked with tears, but
miserable looking anyway. She wasn't lovely, at the moment. She seldom was,
really, but her face was good enough, and took to makeup well. Or it had the
few times he'd seen her before.

"Yes? I... hello?" She
stared, and then looked at the tray, which was nearly at eye level for her,
given that she was pretty small. Five-seven, he thought. So a near giant to
someone like he used to be, and a near commoner to the being he'd been made
into. It was pretty clear that, like everyone else in the world nearly, she
didn't see him as the same man she'd known.

Shrugging a bit, he tried for a
pleasant expression, and gave a tiny bow.

"Um, it's me, Gerent? I grew
a bit since we last met? More than a little. We spoke of that happening, when I
was in Grenwyn last?" He wondered for a moment if having a sign printed up
for him to carry around with that written on it would help. Probably not, since
it would end up just being in the way more often than not.

He still had to wait for her to
work that out, her mind clearly not wanting to do that much yet. That would
have to be changed, somehow. She looked so miserable he had to fight to keep
pity off of his face. He always hated being pitied, himself. Forcing that on
someone else was worse than almost anything he could think. Almost. There were
a few things.

The woman opened the door a bit
wider and tapped the glowing sigil on the wall, just inside the door, which
made a light appear from the ceiling. It was a glow that covered the middle
third of the decently large space. Like sunlight, if not as bright.

"Please, come in. I...
wasn't expecting you. Are you well?" She spoke the words, but it was clear
that she didn't really care about the answer.

Ger grunted and made a point of
brushing her shoulder on the way in. The fabric slid off his arm and she didn't
look affronted by the gesture, which was good, but also didn't seem to notice
it. That part was less than what he'd hoped for. It was a flirting and playful
thing that was probably inappropriate given the fact that they didn't know each
other very well. He nearly pretended to trip, but he didn't want to get her a
new tray of food. Instead he located a large table, one that had two chairs at
it, and set the meal down, uncovering it, and arranging it all inexpertly in
front of the end. Then he pointed at the wooden chair, a dark and slightly
shining thing, and smiled.

"Sit. Eat. We need to talk
about some things. First, do you have plans for the next month, or so?" He
knew the answer, but it was polite to ask.

She seemed surprised, but managed
to get into place easily enough. Her thin frame made no sound as she settled.
Her skirt wasn't too heavy, but she waited for him to sit next to her before
speaking.

"I'm... free. Why? Is there
a problem?" She looked at him, finally managing something other than a
desolate expression. It was a bit surly, to tell the truth, but he could work
with that. This wasn't him begging for a crust of bread on a street corner
after all. He had emotional leverage already, didn't he? For one thing she
hadn't even screamed at him yet for the murders he'd committed.

"Not a problem directly. I'm
getting married soon? Petra Ward? I hate to say it, but I set Laurie Baker up
to do most of the work, replacing my mother, forgetting that I actually
had
one now." He delivered that with a small bow, since it was, at best, a
polite fiction. They both knew it too. "So, I need you to go to Harmony
with me tomorrow and help with that. If you're willing of course. If not...
Well, I understand. I lived my whole life without a real family, so... I can
see not wanting someone like me being a burden on you." The manipulation
wasn't subtle, but that was the kind that worked best. Blatant and obvious, but
still pulling on the heart strings.

After a moment she bought time by
taking a bite of food, or starting to. Gerent stopped her and dug out his
poison detector, waving it over her meal. Nothing happened of course, but she
nodded to him, with a bit more firmness than she'd had before.

"Thank you for seeing to my
care. Now... Do you really need me to go?" There was deep suspicion in her
eyes, as if she was accusing him of setting the whole thing up, betrothal and
all, just to shake her from her solitude.

Like he'd be that clever?

"No, of course not. Laurie
can handle the actual work, along with the Dowager Ward, but when I mentioned
asking you, Douglas and Laurie practically begged me to bring you along. I mean
that, too. They want you to stay with them, and are hiding your arrival from
Tor, so that he won't get first crack at you. I didn't even know that you two
knew each other. Tor, I mean." It occurred to him that bringing up someone
that had once been identical to her dead husband might not be the kindest thing
to do, but she simply nodded slowly, and then took a bit of a braised beef
dish, using decent manners.

After a few more bites she looked
at him and blinked slowly.

"I love him. Tor. After he
had to marry Alyssa, to save her from her father, he arranged for me to marry
Burks. I don't know if it was true, but he said that it was because he wanted
me for himself. Only, now... Can he bear to look at me? I let his grandfather
die. I tried to stop it. He... Burks knew it was going to happen. They all did.
The other Ancients." She stopped, her eyes a little moist then, and really
looked at him. Hard, but not unkindly. "I told him not to. I ordered him
to live, but he couldn't find any other way to save the people of the world.
None of them could. He told me that there was a plan to use the device Timon
made, but that was all. Then... They all left. Tor and his whole family. I
don't really know why. Burks was gone and the rest...Then I heard
nothing."

Gerent clenched his jaw, but
nodded. That kind of made sense, didn't it? She wasn't in the loop, as far as
that kind of information went, not if Lairdgren was dead. That no one had told
her... Well, that was his duty, wasn't it?

"The device Tim built, it
sent out millions of tiny fields that will find anyone that has the Ancient's
pattern to them, and it attacks them until they die. No one immortal, at least
not in that fashion, lives on the Earth now. It's built to break down in ten
years time, but until then, if any of them come back, they just die. Not just
the old Ancients either, the young Ancients will die too. Tim, he managed to
make a bunch of people like that, using magic, so that's why no one came for
you properly. I should have, but I..." He stopped, not wanting to go on,
but finally he did, trying not to seem too much like a coward. "It was my
job to trigger the device when the time came, so I stayed here. I was invited
to go live there, with the rest of them, but..."

It wasn't important really. He
could explain that part of things, how he loved Patty too much for his own
good, to the woman later, if she ever needed to know. There was a soft clatter,
as her fork dropped to the plate, the silver metal making a soft clang as she
turned to him. She looked surprised, but after a moment she started to cry.

"Oh... He... made you kill
him? All of them? My poor dear!" She stood and came around the edge of the
table and then held him as he sat, sobbing for a long time. He returned the
move, a bit more strongly than he intended to, but she didn't complain. Ten
minutes later they broke apart, and she seemed to be a lot stronger, suddenly.

Instead of storming around, or
questioning him, she returned to her meal and ate it all, thinking it seemed,
as he tried not to stare at her.

Finally, as she ate some berries
covered with fresh cream, she nodded.

"I'll go with you. I'm sorry
you had to do that. I don't know if I can be a good mother or not, but I know
that I can be a friend. How do we set up this trip? Do we have funds for it?
I... Burks left me some gold. Not vast amounts, but enough, I think."

Gerent smiled, and explained the
plan.

"So, I can get us there and
back and they don't use coin at all on Harmony. You might have to help out, by
doing work, but nothing seems all that hard there. The plan is to leave at nine
in the morning, which will get us in at about four-thirty in the afternoon by
their clock. So, can you be ready at about eight or so and help get everyone
else around? If so..." He held his head and then shook it. "I just
realized I have a massive amount of work left to do, before I get to sleep.
Princess Veronica is going with us, and I need to set that up on both ends.
Well, Envoy means the same thing as slave, right?"