Dark and sometimes iridescent flashes of what looked like trout filled the length of each stream, along with what might have been young salmon and a kind of snapper.
Other fish I couldn't name swam there, too, but all looked like varieties that might be considered game fish, rather than the decorative variety. The entire pond at the base of the waterfall appeared to be teeming with them, reminding me of old movies of spawning grounds they showed us in science class.
"Holy moly," I breathed.
Revik squeezed my hand.
When I glanced up, I saw him looking around us, too, his face serious.
We had gone from living in a pseudo-terrorist camp with survivalist tendencies to being part of a small but clearly aiming-for-self-sustaining colony, complete with fish farm and indoor greenhouse. I had to assume that's what I was seeing, anyway. Everything around me positively screamed 'food supply,' which was both reassuring and more than a little frightening as I realized how small it still looked, proportionately, anyway, given the size of the hotel.
Hell, even given the size of the line of humans behind us, it looked small.
"There are more fish on the roof," said a voice cheerfully to my left.
I turned, jumping a little.
Oli stood there, one of the female infiltrators from Wreg's unit, and one of those left behind when we went to San Francisco. I knew her as a relatively recent addition, recruited from the refugee camp Balidor set up on the lower floors of the hotel.
She'd already earned a good reputation with the other seers, though, and I’d been told she had a decent sight-ranking.
She'd been picked up by Sweeps as an illegal something like eight months ago in Paris, even though she'd been contracted to a human company there. She suspected it happened because of her familial ties to several Myther groups in Europe, but I couldn't help wondering if it was mainly because of her skin color, which was dark enough to make her look African.
I knew from Revik that seers like her could go for a cool million on the black markets, even if they had no infiltration skills whatsoever.
"...They have more plants growing up there, too," she added, the faintest trace of a French accent still showing in her English. "The ones that need more sunlight, with retractable shades for the weather..."
I nodded, but sighed a little. No more pool.
"Yes," Oli agreed, smiling. "The indoor pool has fish, too," she added apologetically. "...and the top two floors, above yours, are mostly filled with plants and animals." She laughed a little, making that exaggerated eye roll and hand wave of seers. "We have six medium-sized suites filled with chickens alone," she smirked. "We are still getting some supplies from outside, of course. Much of this is for later. Storing, drying, preserving. You understand."
"Later," I muttered. I folded my arms as I looked around. "You mean later, after the supply lines from outside dry up, and we really are living in a giant, immovable ark..."
I'd said it sarcastically, but the dark-skinned seer nodded emphatically.
"Yes," she said. "That is exactly it, Esteemed Bridge. We estimate that could happen in as soon as a month, so it is wise to prepare. Our own stores won't last forever, not without replenishment, not with so many new additions, and more all the time..."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral as I glanced at Revik.
He raised an eyebrow in return.
I didn't read him that time, but I found I knew what he was thinking anyway.
He was pretty much practical to the bone, so of course he would approve of this approach. Knowing him, he would have started it as soon as the disease hit San Francisco, if it had been remotely practical to do so. Back then, New York was still open to the world, however, and the House on the Hill was still a park-side, five-star hotel, even if its overall capacity had been severely reduced due to our having taken up residence with our mini-refugee camp.
Smiling at Oli, I gestured a thank you for the explanation before making my way between the curved planter boxes towards the main lobby. I still had The Third Jewel in my head, and more to the point, my favorite coffee drink, assuming they weren't closed with a line of humans wrapped around the front lobby, as well.
As we passed through the automatic doors leading out of the atrium, I saw that planter boxes filled most of the enclosed circle around the atrium, as well, which used to provide a wide promenade lined with padded benches facing high-end shops. Surprisingly...to me, anyway...the shops themselves still appeared to be intact, and some even looked open.
I knew that couldn’t possibly be the case for much longer, though.
The promenade itself was now only a narrow corridor, rimmed with dirt-filled planters along with heating lamps and what must be irrigation pipes feeding in through openings in the organic-paned walls.
Glancing down that curved corridor, I felt like I'd been transported onto an alien spaceship.
Then we passed into the main lobby, and I forgot about that, too.
The high glass doors that used to lead out to Central Park South and Fifth Avenue had been covered over in dark green panes. Clearly some kind of dense organic, I assumed the panes must be bullet-proof, too, although the more practical side of my nature began turning over just how much firepower they could likely withstand, if we got hit by anything serious. They didn't let in so much as a beam of natural light, which dimmed the room significantly, despite the crystal chandeliers that blazed from iron chains bolted into the vaulted ceiling.
The ceiling itself ended against the largest of three banks of elevators, still visible through the four or five stories of glass partitions, but now only to us. Remembering the dramatic view those elevators used to create from the street outside, I sighed internally a little.
The giant wall mural remained, as imposing as ever, depicting the Old House on the Hill in India, as well as its garden of white-limbed trees and seer statues of some white, hard stone I'd never managed to identify. The mural's mountains stood tall and dramatic in the background, behind the lower foothills of the Himalayas, which also housed the mud and tile-roofed buildings that made up Seertown, along with something like three hundred thousand seers, during its peak. The whole thing had been done out of a mosaic of colored stones and in such vivid detail that I found myself lost for a moment, staring at it, even as I felt an inexplicable coil of grief.
It wasn’t about Seertown itself, really.
I missed Vash.
Seemingly more every day, I missed the kind-hearted, insightful, and scarily-talented old guy. I missed his light.
More selfishly, I also missed his ability to bring clarity to even the murkiest of situations, and to lift the group as a whole when we were at our most desperate and discouraged. Given everything, I had a feeling I would miss him even more in the coming weeks.
Before I could go any deeper into that thought, sounds erupted from the lobby floor, pulling my attention off the wall.
Someone had identified Revik and I, or noticed us, maybe.
Cheers broke out, startling me.
Those cheers turned into foot-stomping, whistles, even laughter.
Not all of the sounds came from faces I knew.
Even at that early hour, the lobby seemed to be filled to overflowing. People, luggage, furniture, boxes and carts covered the carpeted floor. I saw animals, too, including the dog and cat variety, which surprised me, given the food issues Oli just outlined. I didn’t see a lot of animals of that kind, certainly not compared to the number of people I saw lounging on the gold-fabric couches, curled up on jackets and bags and sitting by the hearth of the massive, gated fireplace that stood across from the stone mural, but I saw enough to double-take a few times. Since it couldn't have been much later than six in the morning, the sheer number of people staring at us baffled me, even apart from the cat-calls and clapping.
The applause and whistles died down after Revik gave a friendly wave to the room more generally, but I could still see the shining eyes of seers grinning at us, and m
urmurs as we passed. From the surprise and relief on the faces I saw, I had to assume they’d all thought we were dead, or else captured or stuck somewhere, or worse.
There were just so many of them.
"Yeah," another voice said, popping up next to me. "Spooky, that. Even for us. And we were here when they hauled most of 'em in..."
I turned, and that time found myself facing Torek, another ex-rebel.
He nodded to the people scattered around the room, pursing his lips as his dark gold eyes continued to smile at me.
"...We just got a new batch last night," he added to me, even as he gave Revik a one-armed hug. "Can't even tell you how good it is to see the two of you..." he continued in his crisp, British accent, smiling at me warmly. "When the walls came down over the city like that, I'm afraid we prepared for the worst. Including with the two of you."
“How many do you have?” Revik said.
Torek answered slightly more formally than before, and his seer accent came out when he did. “We estimate 46% of the seer list has been collected or otherwise accounted for, sirs. Last I heard, it was 67% of the humans...” He grimaced, shrugging with one hand. “...Of course, that includes the ones we know are dead, or who got killed during our attempts at extraction or prior to that, during the research phase. Still, not bad, all in all. We got a whole load of humans in right before the gates came down, which was lucky as hell...”
"You mean most of these are...human...?" I said, staring around the lobby in bewilderment.
Torek laughed, still touching both of us with his hands, as if compulsively. "How could you doubt it, Esteemed Bridge? Here we are facing war and probable starvation...that is, if the 'quakes, volcanos, floods and tsunamis don't kill us, first...and this lot's worried about whether they can bring their fifteen-year-old, arthritic cat, 'Fluffy,' along for the ride."
"I just mean...” I hesitated. “I mean. They clapped...”
Torek laughed louder, clapping me on the back in a friendly way.
“Well...yes!” he said, beaming. “Given everything, wouldn’t you clap? Most of this lot would be out in that hell right now if we hadn’t pulled them in, wouldn’t they? We still have access to the feeds. They see what’s going on outside these walls. They know there’s riots, no power, murder, disease, soon to be no food or water. They figure you saved ‘em.” He smiled. “...You did, too. They might be worms, but they’re not totally daft.”
I just stared around at faces, trying to take that in.
“They're all on the list?" I said finally.
"All but a few husbands, wives, siblings and whatnot," Torek confirmed with another deadpan scan of the room. "We just now finished processing all the humans through decontamination. All but a few of those on the actual list are totally immune. We had to turn a few of the non-listers away, which didn’t make us so popular, let me tell you...” He gave me a humorless smile. “...Now we just have to feed the rest. And find them rooms, of course. We've got more extras now that the hotel wing has been completely shut down, but still, at this rate, we're going to be assigning bunk-mates, soon enough."
"We brought more," Revik said with a faint grin.
"So I hear," Torek said with a returning smile, clicking at him in mock reproach. "Thanks a hell of a lot for that, by the way, brother boss. And here we'd already cleared you and yours a nice big table at the Third Jewel, and everything..."
"Thank you, God," I muttered.
"That's gods, pet," Torek grinned. "We can't go all human just because we're being overrun."
He kissed me on the cheek, reminding me again how different he was from the other ex-rebels, who’d primarily been raised in Asian work camps before being pulled by Salinse, and later, Revik.
Revik had recruited Torek into the rebels himself. He'd been one of Revik's few infiltrator pals back when he lived in England.
"Join us?" Revik said to Torek, grabbing my hand and motioning towards the restaurant with his head. Even so, I felt his light react to the kiss Torek gave me, which told me he really was feeling more deprived than usual. Enough that he was getting touchy, like he had been in Argentina, and really, ever since the wedding. I moved closer to him, merging my light deeper into his and felt him relax perceptibly, especially when I withdrew it in more than equal proportions from the vicinity of Torek's.
"Can't, mate," Torek said, winking at me. From his knowing grin, he must have felt the shift in light. Still smiling, he added, "...I'm in charge of sorting out this mess. At least until Balidor and Jon get here..."
Trailing, Torek hesitated suddenly, doing a quick double-take at me, right before he glanced down my body, a puzzled look on his face. He looked about to say something, when I felt a dense bolt of light leave Revik’s aleimi, strong enough that I flinched.
Considering I hadn’t felt anything even remotely sexual in Torek’s one glance, I was instantly annoyed.
“What the hell was that?” I said, looking up at Revik. “Seriously. What was that?”
Revik didn’t take his eyes off Torek, or stop frowning.
Torek just smiled, but I saw understanding touch his gold eyes, right before he saluted to Revik. “Sorry, boss,” he said. “...and understood,” he added. “I’ll pass the word.”
“What ‘word’ is that?” I muttered. “That he’s totally lost his mind?”
Torek laughed louder at that. When Revik gave him an annoyed look, I shoved at his chest, pushing him roughly in the direction of the Third Jewel.
“Okay, enough testosterone poisoning for you,” I said. “I need coffee.”
“Sorry, boss,” Torek called after us, winking at me. “Is it my fault your wife’s a dish?”
Revik clicked at him, his eyes holding an open anger that time.
I pushed at him again. “For crying out loud. You are a total piece of work right now,” I told him. “I’m not even sure if you should be allowed in public, honestly...”
Unapologetic, Revik only shrugged, giving Torek a last, warning stare when the British seer laughed again, probably from watching me push Revik towards the other side of the lobby. And yeah, true, I might have been shoving at him a little harder than strictly necessary, but as far as I was concerned, he deserved it.
Even so, not once did I see a flicker of remorse on Revik’s angular face.
7
BARBARIAN
"...DON’T WORRY ABOUT it," Revik said, waving off my words. He slid into the leather booth next to me, settling so he half leaned on my side. “It’s not a big deal.”
"Don’t worry about it?" I said, with a humorless snort. "You’re acting totally bizarre. Are you going to tell me why, or not?”
"No,” he said, smiling wanly. Seeing my deadpan look, he let his smile fade, motioning vaguely with a hand. “Not right now. After we sleep, okay?”
"You keep pushing back the time," I complained.
Revik only shrugged. "Husband’s prerogative,” he said, trying to get me to laugh. When it didn’t work, his voice turned matter-of-fact. “...I’m not up to a heavy discussion right now. Are you telling me that you are?”
Thinking for a minute, I felt my irritation deflate. “I guess not.”
He only nodded, but I felt a flicker of relief leave his light, strong enough that I stared at him again.
“Seriously...” I began.
"I promise I’ll talk to you, Allie,” he cut in, without looking up. “I promise I will. But not now. Let me just relax for a little while, okay? You should relax, too. We might not get another chance before things start up again..." He picked up a menu that had been left on the table and squinted at it. "...What do you want to eat?”
Looking at him another few seconds, I realized I needed to concede defeat, at least for now.
Exhaling, I watched him continue to squint at the small print.
"Don't tell me you need glasses," I said teasingly, still watching him. When he continued to squint, however, my joking turned into genuine puzzlement. "...You know I was kidding with the '
old man' cracks, right? Even Vash didn't wear glasses. I figured it was like the teeth thing, where seers don’t age in all of those usual, human ways..."
"We don't," he said, his voice distracted as he continued to stare at the menu, his eyes seeming to fight for focus. As if giving up, he pushed the laminated pages over to where I could read them. "...It's my aleimi. I can't seem to get it to calm down for some reason." Smiling at me wanly, he nudged my arm. “It’s your fault.”
“My fault?” I snorted. “How do you figure?”
He glanced at me after I said it, and I noticed that his irises were glowing. Feeling another hard flush of pain leave him, I stared at him in bewilderment, even as I felt my own light react.
"...Maybe it’s not you,” he said, softer. “Maybe it’s just something in my light. But you’re definitely making it worse.”
“I’m making it worse?” I said, cocking an eyebrow. “Really.”
He waved dismissively. “Chicken and egg. Either way, you'd better order that coffee, wife. You might want to order two..."
Giving a short laugh, I rolled my eyes again, but I found myself shifting in my seat a little, too, still reacting to his light in spite of myself. He was sitting closer to me now and laid a hand on my thigh, massaging it slowly as he continued to read the menu over my shoulder, neither of which helped my own focus in the slightest.
Before I could say anything, two waitpersons I knew showed up at our table, grinning from ear to ear. The female with the dark, auburn hair set my favorite, decadent coffee drink on the table in front of me with a flourish, putting a second one down in front of Revik, who smiled a thanks.
I was still talking to her, telling her about the trip back from Argentina and the crazy scene we'd witnessed outside of the city, when other seers began to arrive. It wasn't just the seers who'd been with us in the crate, either, but all of them, meaning a number of those who'd been forced to go through the quarantine at the docks, as well.
Allie's War Season Three Page 92