The Defector

by J. C. Andrijeski

  He probably was tired, though.

  He had a memory of Nurek urging him to sleep, to try at least, stroking his hair and face and pushing at his light, trying to get him to lose consciousness, to relax. The older seer had teased him gently, massaging his shoulders, murmuring in his ear.

  He’d said something about dawn approaching.

  He’d said something about Revik needing to be something a little more coherent than one of the upara d’kitre… the walking dead… or Balidor would chew the rest of them out for abusing him, and making him worthless for the day.

  Nurek reminded Revik that the rest of them would need to work, too.

  He also teased Revik gently that they’d all want him just as much tomorrow.

  The last made Revik flush with embarrassment when he realized that was more than half the reason his body had been reluctant to go unconscious for any portion of the night––even just the last hour before dawn.

  Some part of him half-believed it would be another five years before anyone agreed to have sex with him again.

  So yeah, probably not a lot of sleep.

  The second ping, Revik felt.

  By then, he was awake enough to open his eyes.

  He stared at the strangely liquid organic material of the tent, then shifted to his back, adjusting his weight, grimacing a little at the soreness of his body even as he felt limbs wrapped around him from more than one side.

  Looking down, he saw Dalai’s dark head resting on his chest, shifting with him from where she’d leaned on his side. Nurek wrapped around her from behind, his face smoothed in sleep. On Revik’s other side, Mara pressed against him as well, her back and rear molded against his ribs and hip, her face tilted upwards as she slept.

  Ontari lay on his stomach next to her, his head cushioned in his arms.

  Then Revik felt eyes on him and looked towards the tent’s door.

  Dalejem stood in the opening at the front of the tent, on the opposite side from where Revik lay.

  His face held no expression whatsoever, but Revik could feel him waiting.

  Who is it you need? he sent, his thoughts cautious, and quiet.

  You, brother, Dalejem replied.

  His thoughts felt as empty as his expression looked.

  Revik hesitated, taking in the other’s lack of expression.

  Something about it made him wary.

  Is something wrong? he sent, after a pause.

  Dalejem just looked at him, then at the seers lying next to him.

  I’ll wait outside, he sent.

  He receded from the opening, seemingly the instant he sent the thought.

  Blinking to clear his vision, Revik carefully lifted Dalai off him, repositioning her on the softer mat. Then, moving slowly, he slid out from under Mara, too, using his feet and legs to move his body evenly down the mat, trying not to jar it enough to bother their sleep.

  He waited until he reached the end of the soft pad to try and climb off, still trying to keep from waking the rest of them fully.

  It occurred to him only then that they’d all been lying there uncovered, and that he was hard, just from waking up with so many hands on him, and so much skin pressed against his.

  Remembering Dalejem standing there, he grimaced.

  Moreover, he wondered just how long the other seer had been forced to stand there, between the tent flaps, waiting for Revik to feel the pings, to wake up.

  Truthfully, he didn’t want to know.

  Still blinking and fighting to clear his vision, he looked around for his clothes, but all of those he saw belonged to other seers. He remembered how the evening had started, and looked to the other side of the tent. They’d undressed him close to the tent’s opening.

  As he sat there, it occurred to him that others might have seen more of his night’s activities than he’d really wanted to think about at the time.

  They all shared a construct, after all.

  Shoving the thought out of his mind, he pulled himself stiffly to his feet, wincing once he’d fully straightened.

  He paused long enough to briefly stretch out his arms and back, then made his way to the other side of the tent and dressed quickly, throwing the two shirts and armored vest around his shoulders without fastening the latter up.

  He grabbed his boots and the two gun holsters he’d worn at the end, checking the guns in rote before shoving them back into organic holders.

  He sat on the floor of the tent to shove his feet into socks and boots and to buckle them up before going outside. He did it more for the insects, parasites and other things that might get on his skin than because he worried about the bottoms of his feet particularly.

  It was already hot, even just a few hours after dawn.

  He was sweating by the time he got the last boot done up and pulled himself back to his feet.

  When he left the tent, he found Dalejem standing there, waiting for him.

  The dark-haired seer turned when Revik walked out.

  He didn’t smile, or even really acknowledge Revik with his eyes or his light. His expression remained as blank and immovable as before.

  When Revik just stood there, Dalejem motioned with his head for Revik to follow him.

  They walked through the rows of tents without speaking, then out into the trees that started on the other side of the wide clearing, heading almost due west.

  Revik followed him down the narrow, twisting path that lived there, leading into the jungle, without thinking about it overly at first. He found himself noticing that Dalejem wore only sidearms too, and that he had a machete stuck in the back of his belt, so they might be walking for a while.

  Was this sentry duty? Or something else?

  Frowning a little, Revik waited until they were a good distance from all of the tents, and out past the edges of the open construct before he ventured another try at speaking.

  “What’s going on?” he said. “Are we on patrol?”

  Dalejem didn’t turn.

  He continued to walk the narrow path, which began to curve upwards through the trees once they reached the next bend, leading them higher up into the mountains. Revik touched his hip, realized he hadn’t brought a canteen with him, and frowned.

  “Brother?” he tried again. “Is something wrong?”

  “Why would something be wrong?” Dalejem said.

  His voice was as expressionless as before.

  Revik’s frown deepened, but he didn’t try to answer at first.

  He started fastening up the front of his vest.

  As he did, he sped the motion of his feet, having to work a little to keep up with the other seer, despite his long legs. When he got close enough, Revik reached out, laying a careful hand on Dalejem’s shoulder, not really thinking about why as he did it.

  As soon as he touched the other male, however, Dalejem came to an abrupt halt, turning on him.

  “What?” he said. “What the fuck do you want?”

  Revik took a half-step back, staring at him.

  There was no mistaking the hostility in the other seer’s voice.

  There was no mistaking the hostility in his eyes, either.

  Revik had never seen the other seer angry, not like this.

  Thrown by the expression on his face, he blinked, stepping back even more.

  “Sorry. I just…” He hesitated, watching the other male’s face warily. Revik’s hands hung at his sides now, instinctively in a position ready to fight. “What’s wrong with you? Where are we going?”

  “What the fuck difference does it make?” Dalejem snapped. “Why can’t you just follow orders for a change, Dehgoies?”

  Revik just stared at him, looking from one of his eyes to the other.

  “What’s wrong?” he said. “Just tell me, goddamn it!”

  Dalejem let out a humorless laugh.

  Frowning, Revik was about to try again––

  When the other seer turned on him.

  He moved so fast, Revik didn’t have time to ev
en think about getting out of the way. Dalejem’s fist connected, hard, with Revik’s face, just under his right eye.

  Revik’s head snapped back and to the side.

  Dalejem hit him hard enough that he nearly knocked him down.

  Only years of fight training kept Revik on his feet, and even then, he gave ground.

  Staggering back, he held up his hands instinctively, balling them into fists.

  “Gaos,” he gasped. “What the fuck?”

  Dalejem just stood there, his light exuding so much anger Revik backed down, in spite of himself. Taking another step back, he held his hands up in more of a peace gesture.

  “Brother,” he said, fighting to get his equilibrium back. “Brother, talk to me. What is it? What did I do?”

  “What did you do?” Dalejem let out another disbelieving laugh, his eyes hard as glass. “Are you really fucking asking me that right now? Are you? You little goddamned shit…”

  Revik flinched, feeling his face flush.

  Fear rippled somewhere in his chest. It wasn’t fear of being hurt, not physically.

  Dalejem had always been laid back. Calm. Warm.

  Almost Zen in his approach to things.

  That’s how his light always felt to Revik, anyway.

  Even as Revik thought it, he saw those sharp green eyes shift to look past him, back in the direction of camp. Maybe because his light was more open than it had been in weeks, months, maybe even years, Revik felt something from him in those few seconds.

  A snapshot reached him, crystal clear.

  In it, he got a good long look at exactly what Dalejem had seen when he’d walked through the flap doors of that tent.

  That fear in Revik’s light worsened, even as his mind fought to catch up.

  “Gaos,” he said. “You’re pissed about that?”

  Dalejem’s eyes shifted back to Revik’s, holding a coldness that made Revik pause.

  Pain coiled sickeningly through his light, even as he shook his head.

  “Gods. I didn’t think…”

  He paused, fighting to think, even as he looked up, that fear flickering back through his light. He remembered Dalejem fighting with Mara that first night he was here, Mara making that crack about Dalejem telling her to keep her hands off him.

  “You and Mara?” he said, panic in his voice. “Gods, Jem… are you sleeping with her? Why the fuck didn’t one of you tell me?”

  “Holy fucking gods, Revik!” the male snapped, his words coming out like an explosion. “You can’t possibly be as fucking stupid as you are pretending right now!”

  Revik stared at him.

  It felt like the seer had hit him again.

  When Dalejem started to walk away, Revik lurched after him, without thinking about whether that was particularly wise, either.

  “Wait!” he snapped. “Wait, goddamn it…!”

  He reached for him again, but Dalejem turned on him, his eyes holding an open threat.

  “You touch me again, and I’ll beat the living hell out of you, you little fuck…”

  Meeting Revik’s disbelieving stare, he returned it with one of his own, his expression bleeding even closer to incredulous as he studied Revik’s.

  “What? Did you expect me to like it that you’ve whored yourself out to the entire camp, brother? And just how, exactly, did you expect me to react? Or did the thought cross your mind even once?”

  At Revik’s silence, Dalejem raised his voice, twisting his words into a harder sarcasm.

  “You know, I spent most of last night wondering if you were angry with me… if you were trying to get my attention in some way, to get me to admit I wanted you, that I would be jealous if you slept with another. I wondered if I you were angry that I didn’t get you away from that psychopathic Rook. I wondered if you were angry at me, specifically, for that… since I told you I would protect you. I wondered if my goddamned helplessness in that situation is why you shunned me the whole walk back to camp, closing your light to me entirely.”

  He took a step closer to Revik, staring into his face.

  “I felt guilty, goddamn it,” he growled. “I felt like I’d let you down… that we hadn’t done enough to let you know how fucking panicked we all were when that piece of shit had that knife cutting into your throat. How afraid we were that he would kill you, right there in front of us. And on the comm we have Vash telling us to stay back, Galaith telling us that red-haired fuck was capable of killing you in cold blood, that he was unstable, and overly-emotional about you. I wondered if this goddamned sex offer of yours…”

  He waved a hand, clenching his jaw.

  “…Was you punishing me for that. For not doing enough for you… during or after that mess. I thought you were angry, Revik.”

  The green and violet eyes hardened, right before Dalejem took a step closer, lowering his voice to a colder growl.

  “Then, watching you with the rest of them, I realized… no. No, I’m an idiot. He’s not angry. He’s not thinking of me at all. He’s just a messed up little shit who doesn’t give a fuck. Which shouldn’t have surprised me, goddamn it, but it did. It did surprise me. You’re lucky I didn’t walk into that tent and beat the hell out of you right there…”

  Revik stared at him in disbelief.

  Dalejem didn’t seem to care how he reacted anymore, though.

  Muttering what sounded like more curses, that time in a language Revik didn’t know, the older seer turned his back on him.

  He began walking even more rapidly into the jungle, that time without looking back.

  Revik just stood there, watching him go.

  It hit him, as Dalejem’s form receded, that the seer had woken him.

  He’d told him they were under orders. Had Dalejem gotten orders to wake him? He clearly didn’t want to be out here with him, unless the whole point of this exercise was so that Dalejem could chew him out. Watching the older male walk away, Revik fought back and forth on whether he should try to follow him, even if Dalejem didn’t want him there.

  He might really be supposed to be out here with him for some reason.

  Well. Unless it wasn’t just about reaming him out.

  Unless Dalejem brought him out here to kill him.

  The seer let out another harsh laugh, coming to a stop on the path in front of him.

  “Don’t fucking tempt me… Rook.”

  Revik flinched, in spite of everything.

  It was the first time Dalejem had ever called him that.

  “What are we doing out here?” Revik said. “Why won’t you tell me?”

  Dalejem shook his head in annoyance, clicking at him.

  “Orders. What do you think? Orders. You think I wanted to spend my fucking morning looking at you? No. I got woken up, same as you. I got told to go get your sorry ass out of the remnants of your public orgy, and to go on patrol with you. I think this is brother Balidor’s way of telling me to get over it… but he can go fuck himself, too.”

  When Revik didn’t answer, Dalejem glanced over his shoulder, giving him a colder look.

  “Seriously. Are you brain damaged, brother? Did the Rooks do something to your mind while you were with them for so many years?”

  Revik’s muscles tensed, rendering him silent.

  Maybe because the words hit a little too close to home that time.

  Dalejem stared at his face, as if seeing the reaction.

  The handsome seer’s long jaw hardened more.

  “Do you really think I would have willingly walked into that tent?” he said, his voice openly angry again. “You piece of shit Rook. Do you seriously think I would have just stood there, watching you sleep with a hard-on, waiting for your friends to wake so you could blow them again?”

  Revik felt his own jaw harden.

  He didn’t speak when the other seer threw up his hands, exhaling in disgust.

  When Dalejem turned, once more walking away from him, Revik didn’t move.

  Pain rose in his light as he watched the oth
er male leave that time, enough that his throat abruptly closed. He found himself following the other mindlessly, barely seeing the trees around him as he placed his feet, not sure why he was still trying to keep up.

  He fought to control his emotions, his light, wondering why it wasn’t easier after the night before instead of harder. He found himself wiping his face angrily, fighting back tears.

  “I thought we were friends,” he said.

  His voice was low, a mutter mixed with a growl.

  Somehow, even walking a few yards in front of him, Dalejem heard it.

  The seer stopped.

  Revik tensed when he did, stopping, too.

  He watched the other’s back warily in the pause, but he still flinched when the other male turned. Then he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough when Dalejem suddenly came at him. Letting out a gasp of surprise, Revik actually considered running away, taking off into the trees, but the other seer closed the gap between them in what felt like a blink.

  Then he had ahold of Revik’s armored vest.

  Before Revik could writhe free, Dalejem slammed his back into the nearest trunk. It happened to be a large kapok, with wave-like roots jutting out of the sides, and Revik let out a stunned gasp when his spine made contact with one of those roots.

  He gripped the other man’s arms, panting, trying to decide if he should call for help, when Dalejem released him just as quickly, stepping back.

  Revik stared, stunned when he saw tears in the other male’s eyes.

  That panic returned to his chest, forcing words out of his mouth, almost before he knew what he was saying.

  “You didn’t want me!” he cried out. “You fucking told me you didn’t want me… that very first day we were here!”

  “Bullshit!” Dalejem snapped. “Bullshit! You lying little fuck! I practically asked you for it!”

  Revik stared at him, feeling the pain worsen in his chest.

  Biting his tongue, he fought to think about Dalejem’s words, to reason through them, if only to keep his emotions under control. He fought to think back over that day, to remember the exact words they’d spoken to one another out on the edge of that field.

  Like all seers, he had a photographic memory.