"I was expecting that too, brother," Wreg affirmed, still not looking up. "I guess the open construct made him shy..."
Jax grinned. "Gaos above. He has changed then."
Wreg grunted in acknowledgement.
Jon felt his jaw harden. "I'm telling you, you might want to look at the news."
"What is this thing on the news?" Wreg said, gesturing with his fingers with a frown, his voice dismissive once more. He still wouldn't look Jon in the face, which Jon was beginning to find extremely annoying for some reason.
It didn't occur to him until then that the two of them had been drinking.
Clenching his jaw in irritation, Jon walked up to the couch, snatching the remote off the cushion behind Jax's shoulder. Raising the small device, Jon aimed it at the corner of the screen, tapping in the feed address he'd been watching in his own room.
Instantly, sound exploded out of the monitor's speakers.
It was loud enough to make both Wreg and Jax jump. Both of their heads swiveled towards the wall where a female avatar spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of wailing sirens, clutching her headset to one ear as she fought her way through what looked like a growing crowd. In the background, the avatars of law enforcement personnel ran towards a skyscraper with smoke pouring out of the broken, mirrored windows facing the street.
Most of the police Jon could see wore SWAT-type outfits and carried automatic rifles as they entered through the smoking hole in the floor-to-ceiling, organic panes. Organic glass covered the sidewalk and metal girders had melted out of the lower level of the building in odd, curling shapes, making it pretty clear that the explosion had come from within.
"What the fuck is this?" Wreg said, staring up.
The seer winced against the sound when the sirens grew louder, clicking his fingers at Jon to turn the volume down with the remote. Jon did so even as the woman's words grew audible over the sound of glass crashing to the pavement, along with the more high-pitched alarms from inside the building meshing with the wailing of the emergency vehicles.
Jon found himself listening to the female reporter's words.
"...Here we are with the chief of internal security for Heinrichter Global Bank, Greg Anders, who is telling us that the attack is still underway, despite the effectiveness of their state of the art, counter-terrorism defense system in place..." The avatar smiled at the man identified as Greg Anders in the floating caption, her avatar teeth showing up shockingly white against the darkness of the background. "...Can you tell us more about what is happening inside, Greg?"
Another avatar-protected face appeared above dark clothing that morphed around an obviously modified virtual body. The avatar even had lines of soot on its face, approximating where they probably appeared on the man's actual skin.
"Sure, Tracy," he said, and his scrambled voice sounded tired. "...The number of assailants is unknown at this time. It is believed that we killed at least two just now, by activating a brand new, anti-terrorism device we recently installed on the lower floors. The system was meant to act as a last line of defense against attacks of this kind..." The man placed thick, virtual hands on his waist, clearing his throat. "...Unfortunately, in this case, it may not have been necessary. The security teams are telling us that there continues to be at least one other group of suspects on the higher floors where the bank's corporate offices are housed. We have reason to believe that this area is where the real assault is being conducted...that the corporation itself is the target. The supposed 'bank robbery' happening on the first floor was likely a diversion meant to draw our teams away from the terrorists' real aims..."
"What makes you so sure, Greg?" Tracy asked, leaning closer to him as the sirens wailed louder in the background again.
The man smiled grimly.
"Well," he said with a sigh. "We happen to know that at least two highly-trained seers were hired for this job. Seers like that don't usually bother robbing banks..."
"And why is that?" Tracy pressed. At his flat look, she smiled encouragingly. "...For our audience, Greg. Could you explain why a seer wouldn't rob a bank? After all, the vast majority of them are impoverished, isn't that right?"
Greg nodded, his expression clearing. "Look...the only reason seers don't rob us blind on a daily basis is because, for the most part, we have containment around their abilities, and through the controls instituted under the Human Rights Act and SCARB. Seers can be impoverished on a certain level, it's true...but a seer who is well-sponsored isn't going to starve to death, believe me, Tracy. They're way too valuable to whomever owns the rights to their sight capabilities. Most of them live pretty damned well, truth be told...a lot better than their human counterparts in many parts of the world..."
At Tracy's smile and encouraging nod, he jerked a thumb towards the bank, folding his arms over his chest.
"But in reality, Tracy, a highly trained seer who's not under the protection and control of a legal human sponsor doesn't need to rob a bank to get the money in it. An uncollared seer could simply walk up to a bank teller and convince her that he has six million in his account and that it's totally reasonable that he is moving that money to another, offshore account at a different bank...or even get the whole wad in cash and walk out the front door with it. Seers don't need to steal from us...not like that." The avatar's smile turned harder. "That's why we collar, 'em, Tracy. One of the many reasons, really..."
Tracy smiled again, her eyes wide and encouraging still.
Jon didn't glance at Wreg or Jax to note their reactions to the man's words. He pretty much knew what that reaction would be, without needing to confirm it with a visual.
"So do you suspect human sponsors behind this attack, as well?" Tracy asked brightly, once more holding a microphone to to the man's face.
The security chief's avatar shrugged its broad shoulders, but its somewhat cartoonish face held a grimmer expression.
"No, Tracy, we have reason to believe seers alone are behind this."
"And why is that?" she pressed, leaning closer as another group of military-clad personnel jogged past.
"Look," he said, rubbing his face with an avatar hand. "I don't want to say too much yet...but we've got reason to believe one or more of the known telekinetics is involved. Which means seer terrorism...not humans looking for a payday..."
Jon glanced at Wreg that time, raising an eyebrow pointedly.
Wreg didn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.
By the time Jon looked back at the monitor, the man on the feeds was already pointing them to another image, one that enlarged on the screen as he spoke.
"...See here, we have a positive ID on that one. We got it off one of our older-model cameras, in the stairwell next to one of the executive suites..."
"Non-organic, he means," Wreg grunted in irritation.
Jon knew what Wreg meant.
Organics seemed to be everywhere these days, despite the ban on commercial production and ownership of the living machines. The news feeds acted like the law still meant something, but anyone working at a corporate level above the mailroom, or anyone who had any connection whatsoever to the military or military contracts, knew what a joke that was.
The machines were proliferating, and at an alarming rate.
Jon forgot all of this, however, as the image from the non-organic camera sharpened into focus. He felt his shoulders stiffen the instant he could make out the two forms.
One had their back to the camera.
That one was smaller, shorter, and definitely female.
The other stood a foot taller, was broad-shouldered and definitely male. He faced the camera just about directly. Jon saw a complex array of emotions on Revik's face as he leaned up to kiss the woman standing on the stairs above him, his eyes closing briefly as he lingered. She clutched at him in the kiss, her long, dark hair up in a braided ponytail, wearing the same kind of organic-armored pants and boots as he did, along with an ankle-length black jacket in a style Jon recognized from ar
mored clothing storage under the hotel's lobby.
There was no sound, but Jon saw Revik's lips move briefly as he spoke to her, right before he was holding his hand over the locking mechanism by the door.
Jon heard Wreg curse, and glanced at him.
He'd spoken that language he used sometimes when he was upset. Jon still wasn't sure what language that was exactly, but Allie told him once that she was pretty sure it was Mongolian. In any case, the muscular and tattooed seer was standing now, and had his thick arms crossed over his chest from where he frowned at the wall-mounted monitor.
Jax was standing too, Jon noticed, but his expression was closer to bewildered.
Wreg's held a knowing that bordered on irritation.
Jon glanced back at the monitor right as the door from the stairwell into the suite opened. The shooting began pretty much at once. Revik had already crouched in the entryway before Jon saw him move, and Allie's knees bent as his did. She had her gun out too, although she wasn't firing...instead, she seemed to be hiding behind the wall.
Seconds later, Revik stepped out into the room beyond the stairwell, motioning to her...
...when suddenly a much louder sound shook the monitor's speakers, causing all three men to flinch away from the wall.
At first, Jon thought it was something that had been recorded by the camera in that stairwell...then he realized the sound had come back on through the live feeds. The past recording from the stairwell had been silent.
"What di'lanlente a guete was that?" Jax said, staring open-mouthed at the wall.
Before either Jon or Wreg could answer, a woman's face filled the screen.
It struck Jon at first that something was wrong with her avatar. Then he realized in shock that she wasn't wearing her avatar. For most newscasters, that was the equivalent of delivering the news stark naked. She'd either forgotten to activate it prior to going live, or else had accidentally de-activated it...Jon didn't know which. Either way, her face, looking significantly older, less smooth and wrinkle-free, nearly filled the monitor as she spoke in a low, panicked voice. It struck Jon that the falsetto purr the woman used previously had been completely fictitious as well.
"...Interrupting our interview to bring you a real-time event, occurring at the lower levels of the bank as we speak..."
Her voice fuzzed out briefly, then returned, stronger than before.
"...At least two seers, from what security can tell us at this time," she said, still breathless, her voice a bit deeper. "They've broken into the private security boxes of some of the bank's top clients. When security began to close in..."
Another burst of static obliterated her face.
Jon could see the building shaking behind her, and glass raining down on the sidewalk from windows shattering on the upper floors.
The woman's voice grew into a near-shout.
"...Appear to be attempting escape by blowing a hole in the wall of the vault itself. We've been told by security that the walls down there are over five feet thick and poured of concrete reinforced with steel and military-grade shielding..."
Jon had time to think he actually liked her real voice a good deal more than the fake one, when another explosion behind her turned both her image and voice into static.
That time, instead of her face, they got an emergency broadcast signal. The two-dimensional symbol jerked a few times, then went to a clean-looking newsroom with a long desk where four avatar-clad humans sat facing one another and arguing. They seemed unaware of the interruption in signal, and continued talking loudly and over one another about the probable motive of the terrorists in attacking the bank.
Before Jon could really wrap his head around what they were talking about, Jax was already shouldering on a gun holster and gun that had been sitting in a pile on a nearby barstool. He didn't glance at either Jon or Wreg as he began buttoning a heavy wool shirt over the holster and the worn T-shirt he wore underneath.
Jon glanced at Wreg when the seer began walking towards the door of the suite, his face now set in a determined glare.
"Where are you going?" Jon said, speaking to both of them, but mostly to Wreg.
Wreg gave him a disbelieving look. Then he paused long enough to face Jon, gesturing towards the television with one hand.
"Where do you think I'm going, little brother?" he retorted. "They just detonated an anti-terrorist device on the ground floor of that fucking Kraut bank...with the Sword and your sister inside. Now there's been another explosion. You and I both know there is no second team on the upper floors...so whatever they're after must be in that vault. If the two of them are alone, which you and I both know very well that they are, that means they just sat through at least one explosion, probably two. It also means they might have caused one of those explosions...which Nenz wouldn't do unless he was fucking desperate, ilyo..."
Jon paled as the seer's words sank in.
He found himself following them a second later, when Jax made his way towards the door with Wreg, buckling a second holster around his waist. Jax looked grim-faced now too, and paused only to shoulder on his jacket as Wreg did the same by the door.
"What are you going to do when you get there?" Jon said. "Do you even know? They have the whole place surrounded..."
When Wreg ignored him, Jon raised his voice.
"It's great you're so loyal and all," he added sarcastically. "But your pal, Nenz...he wouldn't thank you for getting shot for no reason. In fact, it would just piss him off..."
Wreg barely glanced at Jon, but his voice held a thread of humor that didn't touch his dark eyes. "Are you worried about me, brother?" he said. "Maybe I should tell Dorje about this concern of yours...he might not like it...?"
Jon bit his lip. "What?"
Wreg sighed a little, clicking. Then he turned, taking a few steps back into the room. When he got within a few feet of Jon he stopped, laying a muscular hand heavily on Jon's shoulder. The look in his eyes was closer to sympathetic that time.
"I am going, young brother," Wreg said seriously. "I would rather be near, on the chance that there is something we can do. Help them...if we can. If we cannot..." He made one of those vague gestures with his other hand. "...He would do the same. It is what we do for one another, yes? Isn't that why you came to tell me this? To help?"
Jon glanced at Jax, but the other seer already seemed to be in the Barrier. His eyes held a distant, faraway look, even before he fit the VR headset around his ear and clicked it on with a soft voice command.
Releasing Jon, Wreg rejoined Jax by the door. After exchanging some kind of silent communication with the younger seer, Wreg opened the door, motioning for Jax to leave in front of him. Once he'd passed through the doorway, still talking to someone on the other side of the headset, Wreg met Jon's gaze, his expression pointed.
"Well?" he said, when Jon didn't move.
"Well what?" Jon said.
"Are you coming with us? Or not?"
After a bare pause, Jon jerked forward. He found himself nodding, heading for the open doorway with a purpose.
"Yeah. I'm coming."
AS JON STOOD on West 24th Street, blocks from Fifth Avenue, he had time to wonder at Wreg's invitation...as well as the fact that recently the seer had taken to calling him 'brother,' instead of 'cousin,' as was the customary form of polite address from seer to human.
When the rebels first threw in their lot with the Adhipan and the Seven, Wreg treated Jon as little more than an annoyance. Jon got the impression Wreg saw him as an indulgence on Revik and Allie's part...but then, given his background with Salinse and the Dreng, Jon always assumed Wreg had very little patience for humans in general.
Still, he'd noticed the rebel leader's behavior changing towards him in the intervening months. He'd thought at first that the change was for Revik and Allie's benefit. Yet, unlike some of the ex-rebels, Wreg didn't change his behavior towards him depending on whether Revik or Allie were around. If anything, he was more polite to him when they weren't.
But Jon didn't have time to think about that for long, either.
Wreg insisted on Jon wearing armored pants, a vest and a jacket not dissimilar to the one Jon had seen on Revik in that image they'd captured of him in the stairwell. The clothes were fairly inconspicuous, at least at night in New York, and hid the two guns he also wore in shoulder holsters under the coat...but Jon couldn't help feeling as though he were wearing some sort of gangster costume anyway.
Wreg wasn't particularly inconspicuous, anyway...not even in New York.
Jon found himself watching the seer field stares as they walked down Fifth Avenue, and then across 24th Street and up Seventh Avenue after he decided Revik and Allie must be moving underground. Not all of those stares were hostile; in fact, a good number of them held an interest that was altogether not-hostile, especially in some of the clubbier neighborhoods they passed.
Wreg got enough looks, in fact, that Jon found himself looking at the seer himself, surreptitiously, of course, but in a way he'd never done before.
It had never occurred to him in his wildest dreams that Wreg would be man-bait, in terms of how he dressed, or his general demeanor, but clearly he was...in New York, anyway. He got looks from women, too, sure, but Jon caught a hell of a lot that were definitely from men, and not particularly subtle.
The observation would have been funny under other circumstances. Even now, Jon found himself thinking he would have to remember to tell Allie...assuming she wasn't off getting herself and her husband killed about now.
Wreg himself barely seemed to notice.
He led the other seers and Jon in a wide loop around the bank building to avoid attention from the cluster of media trucks, or from the military and local police converging on the area.
Allie's War Season Three Page 6