Kirev's Door

by JC Andrijeski

  KIREV’S DOOR

  A Quentin Black Prequel

  by

  JC Andrijeski

  Copyright © 2016 by JC Andrijeski

  Cover Art & Design by Jennifer Munswami at

  J.M. Rising Horse Creations

  www.facebook.com/RisingHorseCreations

  2015

  Link with me at: http://jcandrijeski.com

  Ebook Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit an official vendor for the work and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Synopsis of Kirev’s Door ~

  Kirev is a seer. Raised in an alternate version of our Earth, his people are enslaved under human owners. While he is still young, Kirev joins a resistance army of rebel seers after spending most of his youth in work camps and brothels.

  He wants to help his people. However, during his first mission with the seer rebels, Kirev faces a strange twist of fate and a terrifying new future. Just when they are about to destroy a human research facility, a voice from his past intervenes and sends his life into a whole different direction.

  Kirev's Door is a prequel for the Quentin Black Mystery series, and crossover story with the Allie’s War world, an apocalyptic science fiction romance series featuring star-crossed lovers Alyson Taylor and Dehgoies Revik.

  For Roy

  1

  CHOSEN

  Mularang Rehabilitation Camp

  South of Khao Luang, Thailand

  March 1928

  THE CHILDREN FELL silent, watching the guards as they walked past the front of the barbed-wire fence. Only the buzzing of flies and the distant echo of a tinny loudspeaker could be heard across the low-voiced discussions of the men walking the dirt path between fenced pens.

  They had two hunters with them, Kirev noticed.

  Both female, they wore military-style jackets, camouflage-colored pants and khaki shirts, incongruously thick and heavy-looking in the suffocating heat. They carried rifles and wore pistols on their belts, along with bandoliers of bullets. Even with the bandoliers they looked like soldiers––much different from the rag-wearing hunters who raided his village far away from here. Where Kirev was from, the air was cold and dry and snow covered the Asia peaks.

  Here, the jungle surrounded the dirt of the camps on all sides.

  Kirev fell silent with the rest of those inside the pens.

  He watched the female hunters the most closely.

  They were his own kind. He could tell that much from a dozen yards away, just by the way they walked. Their height tipped off his eyes first. He noticed other things as well, even wearing the heavy sight-restraint collar that itched and burned where it dug into the flesh and bone of his sweat- and dirt-caked neck.

  As the small group walked closer, Kirev noted other things about the two athletic-looking females. They didn’t speak to one another aloud where they flanked the human men. Even so, he distinctly got the impression they communicated, and not only by the unfamiliar dialect of hand-signals they used.

  Kirev found himself riveted by the dark red irises of the tallest of those two females. Those irises burned like hot coals in the shadow of her face, sharp against her dark skin, flashing briefly in the Southeast Asian sun when they caught glimmers of the light.

  Kirev watched her, fascinated.

  He never saw females like this back home. Not even among the pockets of rebels that grew more common in the hills near where his farming parents built their home.

  He noted their muscular arms and shoulders, the jewel embedded in one belonging to the red-eyed seer, the ink tattoos on her fingers and forearms. She had shockingly high cheekbones…a dark mouth with a nearly perfect curve, another characteristic of those of his blood. Kirev felt himself reacting to her in strange ways, just the mere fact of her being within visual range. She moved gracefully, like a hunting animal…nothing like the clunky, childlike steps of the men walking a dozen steps in front of her.

  Humans walked like they’d just been shoved to their feet by an impatient parent and told to figure it out on their own. From what his friend, Coreq said, that was more or less how it happened for humans. He had a cousin who could pass, and she told many stories of how the humans were with their children, and with one another.

  Some of those stories, Kirev had difficulty believing.

  Still, they did all walk like that, as if they’d never been instructed on how to walk at all.

  By sharp contrast, the two female seer’s movements were even more practiced than those of most seers Kirev knew. He watched how they placed each step and moved each segment of leg and body, fascinated by that precision. It reminded him of the jungle cat the human guards had brought into the camp one day, one they’d caught in a nearby river while it swam. The animal had growled and snarled its anger at them as they tried to coax and then bodily force it into a metal barred cage, using ropes and sharp sticks.

  The guards had been laughing, Kirev remembered. They laughed about the downed cat, which had been a present for one of their higher-ups, some joke between their bosses.

  Frowning, Kirev pushed the image of the screaming cat with the black and orange stripes out of his mind.

  The humans had reached their part of the fence.

  Kirev held his breath when the small group came to a stop. He saw the human eyes shift, turn, staring at all of them, looking them over like dogs in a pen.

  Next to him, his friend, Coreq, gripped Kirev’s hand.

  Kirev wound his fingers into those of the other seer, glancing down at him with a small frown.

  He hadn’t seen Coreq approach, but now he wished he had been paying more attention. He would have told his friend to stay indoors, to hide inside the shadow-darkened shelter at the back end of the pen. They’d all been ordered to come out, of course…every one of them…so it would have been risky had the guards chosen to do a real head-count and gone to look for any stragglers. The guards were lazy though, so they didn’t usually bother. Not unless they were looking for one seer in particular.

  Coreq was small. He was small, and the guards liked to torment him too much.

  For the same reason, he had learned ways to hide. Kirev helped him with this.

  Kirev knew there were some who––for reasons not always readily apparent to the minds of the children in the pen––drew the guard’s eyes more than others.

  Coreq was one of those.

  Kirev did not know if it was due to some quality of his light, or some allure related to his delicate features and small body. Likely, it was a combination of those things.

  Coreq had become Kirev’s brother in here.

  Being the youngest in their particular pen, they found one another quickly, for survival reasons as much as any thought of kinship. Both lost their families in raids conducted in small towns in the Himalayas, so the version of Prexci they knew was more or less the same. Both had sisters who had probably been sold already…mothers. Both had fathers who might already be dead, brothers in pens similar to this one, if broken out by different ages.

  “What do they want?” Coreq asked softly, in Prexci.

  Kirev shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dark-skinned hunter.

  Keeping his hand low, he made a subtle gesture in seer, indicating for Coreq to be silent.

  Stepping slightly in front of his friend, he made his body larger, hoping they would notice him first. The guards did not bother Kirev so much, not unless punishing him
for a specific crime. Whatever it was that drew them to Coreq’s light, some other quality seemed to repel them equally from Kirev’s, which was fine with him.

  He watched the human males, studying their number and composition for the first time. Six now stood looking at them from the other side of the chain-link fence. Two in military uniforms that he recognized, who worked the pens here.

  The other four he did not know. They wore civilian clothes. Business suits from the West that appeared expensive.

  They must have taken a plane in here.

  Kirev was still looking across those faces when he started slightly. He realized in the same set of jerked heartbeats that he’d miscalculated.

  One of those humans was not human at all. Another seer stood among them.

  Male. Light brown eyes.

  Kirev’s gaze had passed over him at first, because of his human clothes and the fact that he spoke English rather than Thai or Prexci. Whoever the male seer was, he had learned to copy the disjointed mannerisms and gait of a human too, which shielded his blood more than the strange short haircut and expensive human clothes.

  His eye color was ambiguous, in racial terms. His height was, as well.

  He could have been a human.

  When he stared across the pen at Kirev though, Kirev knew. He was not. At first, he couldn’t even be sure how he knew, but the longer he watched him, the more other clues appeared.

  His mouth. He had a seer’s mouth and the bare outline of a seer’s angular features, even if those features softened at the edges more than those traits might in their more quintessential form. He also moved his hands in such a way that suggested language to Kirev. Or perhaps simply more meaning that what he noticed in the average human.

  He found himself wondering if the humans with him knew.

  Just as he thought it, the male seer pointed, seemingly directly at Kirev himself.

  “That one,” he said, his voice decisive.

  Kirev stiffened. Fear pooled in his gut the instant the other’s words sank in. Lately, more of them had been disappearing, and at ages too young for direct sale for most sight-related purposes. Thinking about this, Kirev’s bladder felt suddenly tight, like he might go on himself any second. He saw an older human next to the seer frown, placing his hands on his hips, squinting at Kirev with blue eyes.

  “He’s damned young,” the human muttered, swatting flies away from his fleshy face, which had turned a bright, blotchy red in the heat. “Are you sure we need one that young? At that age, we don’t even know if they’re going to be worth anything yet…you might be taking a prize from us, and we wouldn’t even know. What is he? Six? Seven?”

  The seer next to him rolled his eyes.

  He did that like a human too, Kirev noticed.

  “Hardly, Admiral,” the seer said, drily. “He’s seer…remember? So fifteen years old, I would guess. Perhaps sixteen. No way he’s under twelve, even if he’s abnormally big for his age.”

  The male human flinched at the other’s words, as if startled…or, more likely, as if he’d forgotten that human and seer children aged at different rates.

  He squinted at Kirev a second time.

  “Well,” he said then, shrugging. “The program has jurisdiction here. If you think he’s the one you want––”

  “He is.”

  Kirev fought to swallow, tasting the other’s words.

  The program.

  The blotchy-faced human nodded to the male seer’s words, swatting more flies from his neck and face. Glancing at the guards in military uniforms, he made a motion towards the fence with his head.

  “You heard him. Box him up…” the male said.

  Kirev let out a low whine, unable to help himself.

  Watching the guards begin to unlock the gate, one of them yanking a billy club off his belt as he followed the one with the key, Kirev’s fear turned to full-blown panic. His breath struggled in his chest, even as he tightened his grip on Coreq, trying to decide if he should just run.

  He could bolt, try to hide under the floorboards like Coreq.

  As he thought it, he jerked sideways, balancing between his two feet, that terror in his chest turning cold with panic.

  “Wait!” the male seer shouted, raising a hand.

  Kirev jerked his eyes and head back towards the fence.

  He saw the light-eyed seer staring once more, but that time, not at him.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” the seer said, his voice subdued. He pointed through the wire mesh of the fence, directly at Coreq that time, who Kirev realized only then had been exposed when Kirev moved out from where he’d stood in front of him.

  “I want that one instead,” the male seer said. His voice sounded absolute, more definitive than before. “The one whose hand he’s holding…”

  “The little one?”

  “Yes. That one. With the streaked hair.” The seer pointed more adamantly at Coreq, glancing at the uniformed guards to make sure they knew which one he meant.

  Coreq squeezed Kirev’s hand so hard he gasped, feeling his terror twist back on itself.

  Terror, but also…

  Relief.

  Kirev felt so much relief.

  Guilt accompanied the thought, a kind of horror at how intense that relief remained, even after he recognized it for what it was…but Kirev could not erase the feeling.

  The boys they took didn’t come back.

  They never came back.

  Inside the pens, the child seers whispered amongst themselves about what happened to them. They knew it wasn’t good. Being sold on the market wasn’t good either, but it was better than whatever the humans took them for when they were young.

  It was better than the men in suits who talked about “programs.”

  “Kirev,” Coreq whispered, whining. “Kirev…what do I do?”

  Kirev looked at him, and that pain in his heart worsened.

  Coreq hadn’t just thought about voiding his bladder…he’d actually done it. His worn work pants were wet all over the crotch and down the insides of his legs. His piss had cleaned off part of his dusty foot. It smelled bad, mostly because of the food they ate and how little water they were given. Kirev looked down at him, feeling his nose wrinkle in revulsion.

  “Kirev…help me…” Coreq said, his dark eyes wide in his face. He stared up at him, gripping his fingers so tightly it hurt. “Help me, brother…please…”

  Tears ran down his face.

  Kirev had no words for him though. He would remember that later, that he never said a single word of comfort to his friend as they came and took him away.

  He never said a single thing.

  2

  CALL ME DAN

  Penthouse, Golden Terrace Estates

  San Francisco, California

  March 1953

  KIREV STRAIGHTENED THE collar of his shirt, glancing at the reflection of the human in the corner of the mirror where he watched Kirev dress himself from the door.

  Letting his eyes flicker back to his attire, Kirev paused only a few seconds before glancing out the window of the penthouse apartment building. His eyes glanced over the San Francisco Bay, the view of Koit Tower in the distance. He could see the bare edges of the Golden Gate Bridge to his left as well, via the giant picture window overlooking the business district and the Ferry Building as well as that more stunning view to the northwest.

  “You almost ready?” the human said, his eyes studying Kirev’s back critically.

  Kirev nodded, using the human version of the mannerism. “I am ready.”

  He turned as he said it, tugging down on his dark brown jacket to straighten it over the white dress shirt. He walked towards the human as he did it, pulling lightly on his cufflinks and sleeves next to straighten those too and watching the other look at him. He could feel flickers of the human’s thoughts, enough to know he was thinking about sex as he looked at Kirev in the suit.

  Kirev pretended not to notice.

  He’d already discern
ed that his new owner, “call me Dan,” didn’t like to be reminded that Kirev could read his mind.

  Or, more accurately, he preferred to remember that fact selectively, given that he’d used that same ability of Kirev’s several times already in the past few days, mostly for small things having to do with politics in his work place, but for several personal matters as well.

  In fact, thinking about it now, Kirev couldn’t think of a single day that had gone by that his new “employer” hadn’t used his abilities for some small or large task.

  Most of those tasks had been small indeed.

  Borderline petty.

  Kirev suspected the new toy shine might wear off in a month or so.

  He’d only been bought less than a week ago now, a direct sale from the general stock pens of Black Arrow Corporation. Kirev had come out of the work camp as eligible for such sale less than four months previous.

  Once Kirev stood in front of him, Dan motioned with his fingers for him to turn around.

  “New rules,” the human said, his voice bordering on apologetic.

  Kirev nodded without comment. He knew the law had passed.

  He probably knew before this paunchy, graying, bad-breathed human did.

  He didn’t tell him that, however.

  Turning around so that his back was to the human, he only winced a little when those clammy fingers touched his neck. Once they’d pushed the back part of his shirt’s collar out of the way of the visible holes, they slid a heavier, metal collar over his bare skin.

  Kirev winced a little at the sound of the human clicking the dark green ends together like puzzle pieces at the base of his skull.

  When Dan tapped his shoulder with an index finger, his light holding a flicker of command that time, Kirev barely hesitated. Lowering himself by bending his knees so that the other could reach the back of his neck, Kirev held himself still as his owner flipped the thumbnail switch, hitting in a push-button into tiny numbers in the combination lock.