War: Bridge & Sword: Apocalypse (Bridge & Sword Series Book 6)

by JC Andrijeski

  “Are you hungry?” Revik continued. “Would you like anything to read? A portable monitor, maybe?”

  Again, Maygar only stared at him.

  Then he moved his arm, revealing a monitor partially obscured by a blanket on the cot. Turning his head to look at it, Revik paused, reading. He let a thin smile touch his lips as soon as he understood whatever was displayed on the screen.

  When he looked down himself, Maygar’s cheeks flushed a darker color.

  With that came a scowl––an expression on his strong Asian features I finally recognized.

  Before seeing the two of them sitting across from one another like this, I would have said Maygar inherited ninety percent of his looks from his mother, even down to his body type, which was significantly shorter and stockier than Revik’s.

  Now, though, looking at him, I found myself re-evaluating that assessment.

  The slant of his cheekbones suddenly looked a lot more familiar than I’d noted in the past.

  He had his mother’s fuller mouth, but the shape of his eyes and even his arms started to look like Revik’s to me, as well as the width of his shoulders, and the length of his thighs. He also looked a bit like Revik’s biological sister, I realized, mostly in the eyes.

  It helped that I now knew what Revik had looked like at that age.

  Thanks to those sessions in the Tank, I’d seen him in his thirties and forties, while he’d still been working for Menlim and before he’d reached his full height.

  It hadn’t really occurred to me before, how young Maygar was for a seer. He’d actually gained a few inches in height since I’d last seen him, and his face had narrowed. Granted, most of that was from the weight he’d lost during his captivity, but I suddenly found myself doubting that was all of it.

  I’d been told that seers didn’t normally stop changing in terms of their physical appearance until they were somewhere between eighty and one hundred years old. Then, as they got older, they started changing again, noticeably, that is, somewhere in the vicinity of three hundred to four hundred years, depending on the seer.

  The Lao Hu made it abundantly clear to me how immature my own body was, from the perspective of a full-grown seer.

  I’d also been told that my body and face had aged rapidly since I’d married Revik. That was normal, too, apparently; bonded seers tended to have that effect on one another.

  I thought all of this, even as Maygar covered the face of his monitor with a blanket, scowling at Revik with an undisguised resentment.

  “Is that why you came?” he said. “To ridicule my taste in reading?”

  Revik held up a hand in a peace gesture. “Brother… no. The question was sincere.”

  “Brother? Seriously?” At Revik’s silence, Maygar grunted, folding his thinner but still-muscular arms. “Why in the hells below would they send you in here to ask me anything about what I need? Is this Balidor’s idea of a joke? Because I’m not laughing––”

  “No one sent me, brother. No one.”

  “Stop fucking talking to me like that!” Maygar snapped. “Why are you here?”

  Revik sighed, running a hand through his black hair.

  I watched him re-think his approach, even as he kicked himself for smiling at the book.

  I couldn’t help smiling a little myself when I got a glimpse of the title and cover art through one of the secondary cameras. I’d mentioned to Revik that Maygar was an avid reader of trashy romance novels. He didn’t just read the seer kind; he read the human variety, even the ones a lot of humans scoffed at.

  That had been one of the details that made Revik laugh aloud, when he started asking me questions about Maygar’s personal life.

  I knew Revik asked other people, too.

  He also looked at Barrier images of Maygar’s childhood in Seertown.

  Some of those last, particularly when Maygar’s mother first left him there with Vash, bothered Revik a lot, I could tell––definitely more than he admitted to me in so many words. I knew Revik couldn’t help but feel for Maygar as an orphan and as an outcast. He’d spent a good portion of his own life as both.

  “Will you talk to me?” Revik said finally, once more meeting Maygar’s gaze. “We should talk. At least try.”

  “Why?” Maygar’s voice turned back into the angry sneer I remembered. “Spare me the pathological attempts at fatherly concern, Rook. I think I might vomit. Seriously.”

  Revik’s frown deepened. “You know, then.”

  “Your pals in Argentina told me.” Maygar refolded his arms tighter, glaring at Revik with an undisguised anger. “Is it true?”

  Revik hesitated, then made another concessionary gesture with his hand.

  “Your mother says it is,” he said.

  Maygar gave a disbelieving snort. “I suppose she did it all by herself, is that it?”

  “I didn’t know––” Revik began.

  “So fuck off, then,” Maygar cut in. “If she didn’t tell you, obviously she didn’t think you’d add much to my life as a parent. She must not have thought the information would be much help to me, either.”

  Maygar’s jaw hardened, pushing out his cheek, and that time, I could almost see the sparks of emotion coming off his light. I was still watching his face when Maygar shook his head, clicking angrily under his breath.

  “I can’t believe you came in here. I really can’t.” His brown eyes shifted to Revik’s face. “Is this for fucking real… Dad? Or am I hallucinating right now? Didn’t you threaten to kill me the last time I saw you? Cairo, remember? I seem to remember my face bruising your knuckles that day, too. Along with you threatening to castrate me if I so much as looked at your wife again. Remember? Dad?”

  Revik flinched at the word a second time, or maybe at the disgusted way Maygar said it.

  But Maygar wasn’t finished.

  “…Did the Adhipan really throw this job to you? Why? Is this supposed to reassure me, that the one guy I know for a fact wants me dead is feeling guilty all of a sudden?”

  “We don’t want you dead,” Revik said.

  “So? What, then? Am I bait? Are you trying to get Shadow to come here?”

  Revik frowned, leaning back in the organic chair as his eyes assessed Maygar’s.

  “Bait?”

  “Yeah, bait. Or am I not supposed to know that being your son makes me ‘valuable’ all of a sudden?” He grunted, scowling. “Every evil fucker in the civilized world probably wants a piece of me now… so thanks for that, too.”

  “Did he tell you? Shadow?” Revik said. “Why he was torturing you?”

  The anger on Maygar’s face faded, replaced by a closed look that made him somehow appear a lot older. It also made him look at lot more like Revik.

  When he didn’t answer, Revik leaned over the back of the chair, laying his hands on the table, maybe to push Maygar to look at them.

  When he spoke next, he kept his voice neutral.

  “Can you tell us anything, Maygar? Anything that might give us an idea around what he knows about you? Or what he has planned?”

  Maygar shook his head without looking up, his expression stony.

  “So that’s why having a son is suddenly interesting to you. I should have known.”

  Before Revik could answer, Maygar waved off his own words.

  “I’m not a complete idiot, you know,” he muttered. “I figured he wanted to know if I was telekinetic. Once he told me who you were to me.” He gave Revik a harder look. “He didn’t exactly hide what he wanted.”

  “He actually told you that?” Revik frowned, glancing at the mirror, and therefore at me. “What did he say exactly?”

  “You mean besides calling me ‘nephew’ and quoting some really twisted scripture?” Maygar gave a disgusted grunt. “Guy’s a sick fuck, you know that? No wonder you’re such a mess, if that guy raised you… a really sick fuck.”

  I saw a harder tremor pass through Revik’s expression. His voice flattened.

  “He told you he raised
me?”

  “Yes. He went on and on about it, actually. Again… disturbing.”

  “Did you see him?” Revik’s frown deepened. “What did he look like, Maygar? Can you describe him for us? Identify an image if we showed you one?”

  “Who’s back there?” Maygar said, following Revik’s eyes to the mirror. “Is it Balidor? A bunch of your ex-Rebel thugs? I saw you brought some of those Neanderthals with you when you left China.”

  Revik's jaw hardened. I saw his patience ebb briefly, before he seemed to pull it back. He visibly forced himself to sigh, clicking a little.

  “No.” Frowning, he hesitated before blurting, “It’s Allie. She’s in there. Alone.”

  Maygar grunted, but I saw another look rise to his eyes, not quite anger. “Jesus.”

  “I asked her to come,” Revik said, sharper. “For personal reasons. Not for anything to do with your captivity under Shadow, or what we’d like your help with, intelligence-wise. She’s not feeding me anything, or monitoring your light.”

  Maygar grunted, more amused that time, although that colder fire didn’t leave his eyes.

  “Personal, huh? What ‘personal’ reasons would those be… Dad? You just felt like rubbing salt in the wounds? Or did she want to be here while you put me in my place?”

  Revik combed his fingers through his dark hair, clicking softly. When he spoke next, his voice held more of an open honesty.

  “I didn’t know how this would go,” he admitted.

  “So you wanted her here in case I ripped you a new one?” Maygar smiled a little. “I would think you’d be used to people hating you by now, Rook.”

  “I am,” Revik said, giving him a harder look. “Allie knows you better than I do. I thought maybe she could help me.” He shrugged lamely with a hand. “…Help us. I thought she would see more than I can.”

  “See more?” Maygar gave him a cold look. “I thought you weren’t here to interrogate me?”

  “Not interrogate.” Revik shook his head, his mouth firm. “Reach you. Understand what I’m doing wrong, at least.” He gestured vaguely when Maygar made a derisive sound.

  The silence deepened.

  Revik gave him a serious look. “I don’t expect much, Maygar––”

  “Well, that’s good,” Maygar cut in angrily.

  “––I don’t expect anything at all,” Revik added, sharper. “But I wanted you to know that I intend to try. I also wanted to tell you how sorry I am, and how angry I am at your mother, Vash, and whoever else didn’t see fit to tell me.”

  Maygar’s mouth hardened as he averted his eyes.

  He stared briefly at the mirrored wall, maybe even at me, then frowned again, folding his arms tighter, although the posture couldn’t have been comfortable, wearing manacles. His eyes grew increasingly wary as he stared down at the empty table.

  Maybe he could hear the honesty in Revik’s voice, or maybe something clicked in Revik’s actual words, but I got the impression he was more confused than he was trying to let show. Or maybe wearing the collar meant he couldn’t get a read on anything, so everything Revik said was only annoying him, and making him unsure of where he stood with the rest of us.

  I knew he probably wanted back in the Seven. It was the only home he’d ever known.

  He had a lot of friends when I first met him in Seertown.

  Even as the thought occurred to me, Maygar gave an irritated, clicking sigh, as if he wasn’t sure what to do, either. Combing his fingers through his hair, he shrugged, one-handed.

  “So what now… Dad? I already told the Adhipan everything I know on the strategic end of things. I told them everything I knew about Shadow and his operation there. What do you want to talk about?” Grunting, he stared up at the ceiling. “Or did you just want to trash my mother some more, since you seem to be under the delusion that I’m going to side with you on that one?”

  Leaning back in the chair, Revik sighed, too.

  Staring up at the ceiling as well, he folded his own arms, unconsciously making himself look even more like Maygar, since they now essentially held their bodies in identical positions.

  I couldn’t help grinning. And kind of wishing I had a camera.

  Almost as if he’d heard me, Revik aimed a slightly irritated look in my direction.

  “I’m not trying to insult your mother,” he said, turning his gaze back towards Maygar. “I’m just being honest about my feelings. I’m sure she had her reasons. I’m sure Vash did, too. He was like a father to me, and I don’t believe he would have done something like that to hurt me. I just wish I’d known. I feel cheated that I was never told.”

  “Cheated.” Maygar stared at Revik incredulously. “Gaos di’lanlente. Just how fucking stupid do you think I am? You hate me. You’ve always hated me. Am I really supposed to buy this sudden change of heart? This bullshit act of paternal interest, when, last I knew, you wanted me dead… and slowly dead?”

  “I didn’t know who you were!” Revik growled.

  “––Or maybe you knew better than you do now,” Maygar retorted. “Since the labels seem to have muddied your memory. Or at least convinced you I’ve suddenly dropped IQ points. Or were you hoping your last guardian’s torture would make me more willing to embrace you as some kind of fucked up parental figure?”

  His eyes hardened as they watched Revik’s face.

  Then his voice turned abrupt, almost toneless.

  “Let me talk to Allie.”

  Revik’s jaw hardened. “Why?”

  “Because however pissed off she might be at me, and however-many lies you’ve told her about me, she was my friend at least.” He continued to study Revik’s face. “If you really want me to trust you, Dad, then let your precious wife in here. Let me talk to her. Let me hear what she has to say about all this.”

  Revik hesitated, glancing at the mirror.

  I sent him a pulse via the headset, letting him know it was okay with me.

  After a pause, he shook his head, looking back at Maygar.

  “No,” he said.

  Maygar smiled, as if it was the answer he’d expected. “What’s the matter, Pop? Still don’t trust me with the missus?”

  “She’s not well,” Revik said, giving him a hard look. “And no, I don’t trust you with her. I don’t trust anyone with her right now… and you’ve never had a clear head when it comes to Allie. You’re fixated on her, and I can’t take the chance that you might do something stupid. Or say something stupid. Or just inadvertently upset her. Or stress her out. You wouldn’t risk it either, if you were me.”

  Maygar’s smile faded. “What do you mean, she’s not well?”

  “It’s nothing. She’s fine. But I can’t––”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  Revik glanced at the mirror and at me.

  I quirked an eyebrow in response, letting him see it through the headset.

  “Yeah,” I murmured through the link, not really in humor. “What’s wrong with me, husband? Are you ever going to tell me? Or are you just going to keep pretending you don’t know?”

  He frowned at me, then looked back at Maygar.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Maygar repeated, sharper.

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  Maygar glared at him angrily. “Are you kidding me, Rook? You want me to trust you, but you won’t even tell me what’s wrong with––”

  “She’s pregnant,” Revik said coldly.

  There was a few seconds’ delay after he spoke.

  His words lingered in the air, before any aspect of them made sense to me.

  A few more passed before Maygar seemed to make much of them, either. Then his jaw dropped, right before he clenched it.

  He glared at Revik as though Revik had said I was dead.

  Somewhere in that same handful of seconds, I dropped the hand-held sitting on my lap, barely noticing the loud clattering sound it made as it hit the organic-paneled floor.

  I didn’t even look down.
r />   Instead I stared at Revik through the organic pane, the puzzle pieces clicking together almost audibly behind my eyes.

  Pregnant.

  Baby.

  I was going to have a baby.

  We were going to have a baby.

  36

  HOPE

  “ALLIE? ALLIE… HEY!”

  His voice sharpened at the end, finally penetrating my awareness. It struck me in the same few breaths that it probably wasn’t the first or second time he’d said my name. Maybe it hadn’t even been the third or fourth time.

  “Allie!”

  I turned my head. Jon stood in the doorway, frowning at me.

  “Hey,” he said. “Are you on drugs? What the hell?”

  I shook my head as if the question hadn’t been sarcastic, still fighting to get my mind back somewhere in the vicinity of my body. My heart rate struck me as unnaturally loud, almost deafening. It was distracting enough that I was having trouble focusing on Jon’s face.

  I tried to decide what the feeling there was exactly.

  Fear? Denial?

  But I’d known, hadn’t I? I’d known. I’d been pretending as much as Revik in some ways. I’d known his big secret, which is why I hadn’t pressed him as hard as I could have for him to admit it out loud. Maybe he’d even known I knew. Maybe he sensed the reality of it scared the hell out of me, especially given everything else going on, so he let me keep up this fiction of not-knowing. How long had he known? How long had I known?

  Did Jon know? Wreg?

  Balidor must know.

  Balidor, Tarsi, probably Chandre.

  Even Tardek knew, and he and I had barely spoken. I remembered him looking at me funny, my first day back in the hotel, and Revik’s warning growl in his direction. He’d been scanning me, surprise in his light and his eyes, as if confirming––

  “Allie,” Jon said, his voice openly impatient. “I couldn’t reach you on your headset. Did you turn it off?”

  Nodding numbly, without really comprehending his question, I glanced back through the one-way window of the security booth, where I could see Revik and Maygar arguing about something. I couldn’t make sense of any of their words.