Maybe it was sheer dumb luck, or all the practicing I’d done.
In any case, the words came easier than I expected, and not too fast.
“I suspect I know what many of you are thinking,” I said. “Like everyone here, I’ve seen the feeds. I’ve heard all of the accusations, and opinions.”
I paused, looking out over the spread of humans who watched me silently from velvet-backed chairs.
“I am aware of what I am to many of you. What I symbolize, at least.”
I waited another second.
“I’m hoping you can listen past that, to my actual words.”
Aware of the heat of the lights on my shoulders, I straightened.
“My name is Alyson May Taylor,” I said clearly. “And up until about a year ago, I thought I was just like you.” I looked out over faces. “I was raised among humans, like you. I loved my brother, a human. I loved my parents… also human. I had human friends. I went to a human school. I had a normal, human job. I dated human boys. I dreamed about a human family and marriage…”
Feeling a pale stab at my light, I faltered for less than a heartbeat.
“…I also feared seers,” I finished. “Just like you.”
I looked at the rows of faces.
It was quiet enough that I could hear the stray cough.
“I’m not here to convert you to any religion,” I went on. “Nor am I here to defend the actions of any of my kind… particularly not my own. I am here to make a plea for understanding across our two races. To put a stop to things before they go too far.”
Pausing, I cleared my throat.
“I am here to make a plea for peace,” I said. “For those of us willing to put down arms long enough to get it. I would like to propose an alliance among those of us who want peace, so we might strive towards that goal together. I recognize that this will take work… a lot of work. It will require whole new understandings, and new treaties between our two races. I’m willing to do that work, but I cannot do it alone.”
I took in the blank sea of faces, partly-obscured by blinding lights.
I took another breath.
“Things have escalated over the past year to a dangerous degree. This danger affects us all, human and seer. Neither of our people can create peace without the other. Neither of our people can solve the problems between us without the other. The world won’t be made less dangerous for any of us with more talk of weapons and wars, more repression, more escalation, more terrorism––yet more posturing and repeating the same old messages of hatred and intolerance. I know there is distrust.” I hesitated, looking around at faces. “I know there is fear, anger and a desire for revenge on both sides. I know there is cause for all of these things, again on both sides. I know there have been unconscionable acts of war.”
I looked around at faces, saw that most of them were still with me, more or less.
“I know people have died. Too many people,” I added.
I paused, swallowing.
Raising my eyes, I firmed my jaw.
“But we cannot solve this by beating the same tired drums even harder. My people won’t be calmed through more brutality and repression. Your people won’t be calmed by additional acts of terrorism and resistance. The only way to stop this is for some of us to stand up. To demand that it stop. To not do the easy thing, and let fear and madness take us to the brink. We must have the courage to take a different path. We must have the courage to risk peace.”
Seeing a few frowns in the audience, a rustling of chairs, I swallowed again.
“It will not help us to assign blame,” I added, gripping the podium in my hands. “It will not even help us to be right. We can, all of us, be right. We can be right all the way up to the moment the first bomb drops, and it will not save either of our peoples. It will be cold comfort to our children, too.”
I waited another beat, then glanced at Vash.
“I did not ask to be the leader of these people,” I said, looking at him, drawing strength from his kind eyes. “Nor do I think I have the experience, or the skill to do them justice in this regard. I am not one who was raised in their laws.”
I paused again, looking around the room, taking in faces.
“But I accept that they wish it of me,” I said. “I have agreed to take up this mantle, for however-long I am able to be helpful in this role. I truly hope that one thing I can bring to the seer race is an understanding of humanity from the inside… and a love for them.”
Clearing my throat, I said,
“You are still my people, even if I am no longer yours.”
Feeling rose in me as I saw my adoptive brother, Jon, smiling at me from the front row, his eyes holding an open pride.
“I do not share the opinion of some of my race,” I said. “Who feel that war is the only language that humans understand.”
Another mind whispered by mine.
I brushed it aside, my jaw tightening.
“I hope you will help me,” I added. “In proving them wrong.”
For a long moment after I spoke, there was silence.
Then, when I straightened, a scattering of applause made its way disjointedly around the room. I tried not to notice that it came from less than half of those present.
Or that to call it polite would be, well… polite.
Again, his humor rose.
I tried to push him out of my light, but not before he spoke in my mind.
It’s not you, love, he sent, soft, apologetic. It’s not you. It was well said, all of it. I had no idea you were such an eloquent speaker. It is beautiful, to see you up there… and it pains me to see it so wasted here, among these vermin…
He let me feel the sincerity behind his thoughts. The depth of it startled me.
His light warmed, sliding deeper into mine.
Wife, he sent, softer. Of course it isn’t you. They can’t hear you. They can’t.
Swallowing, I fought to ignore my light’s reaction to his praise, and the sharp look I caught from Balidor when I glanced in his direction. The Adhipan leader’s eyes asked a question I refused to answer.
It wouldn’t have made any difference. I didn’t know where he was.
I turned my attention back to the human audience.
Their patience had begun to ebb. They wanted to get to the question and answer period.
I’d expected that. Truthfully, it was how I’d lured most of them here.
“All right,” I said, resigned. “Who’s first?”
Hands shot up in the air, seemingly all at once.
I DID MY best.
Pieces stood out in my mind after, as I caught my breath behind the heavy stage curtain, out of sight from the audience. I stood there, peering out at them after I left, flanked by four members of the Adhipan and a young female seer who acted as a kind of retainer.
Balidor’s paranoia hadn’t abated from the incident on the stairs, so I knew they’d probably be hovering over me the rest of the night. I didn’t mind truthfully, particularly given some of the hostility I’d just fielded out there.
I felt a flicker of reassurance when I saw Garensche, a cheerful Adhipan seer who happened to be the size of a small house. Garensche was the largest seer I’d ever seen in real life, up close and personal anyway, apart from those almost-albino seers called Wvercians who lived almost exclusively in China, mostly as nomadic tribespeople.
Garensche patted me on the shoulder, gazing out the same opening in the curtains.
“It went as well as could be expected,” he assured me, sending a pulse of warmth. “Anyway, it’s only the first try, ilya. Don’t think on it too hard.”
I nodded, biting my lip as I thought back over specific things I’d said.
The questions had been predictable, of course.
For the first one, I’d literally just pointed to the person behind the first hand I saw.
“You. Yes, Kevin, is it?”
The man acted like I hadn’t spoken.
“Is
it true Syrimne is alive?” he said. “And that he’s your husband?”
I’d expected this, of course. I’d expected it early and often. Still, it wasn’t an auspicious beginning, that they didn’t bother to throw in even one semi-polite question first.
Or acknowledge that I’d just given a speech, for that matter.
Sighing internally, I kept my expression utterly calm.
“He is alive, yes.”
“Is he your husband?”
I glanced at Vash, maybe for help. The old seer smiled at me, his eyes calm.
I felt the other presence there, too, even before he spoke.
Careful, love.
“No,” I said, my jaw hardening. “Not anymore. We’re separated.”
I felt the presence react, sliding into and sparking around my light––right before he whispered away from me.
“So you’re helping us hunt him, then?” the human persisted, his voice openly skeptical. “You’re trying to kill him like the rest of us?”
I swallowed, looking at the swath of faces around me, seeing the fear in them. It wasn’t only the humans, either. I felt the change in the seers who stood around me too, their reactions as the atmosphere in the room instantly grew more charged.
“Am I trying to kill him?” I frowned. “As in me, personally? No.”
“Shouldn’t you be?” asked another human pointedly, a female.
I clenched my jaw, glancing at Balidor. The Adhipan leader raised an eyebrow, his eyes mirroring the human’s question.
Scowling a little, I turned, facing the rows of humans.
“Look,” I said. “Whatever you might think, I’m not qualified for that kind of operation, even if I desired such a thing.”
“Do you desire his death?”
“I don’t desire anyone’s death,” I said, short.
“But he’s responsible, isn’t he, for the destruction of the White House?” another woman persisted. “For killing hundreds in a seer attack on the capitol city of the United States? Don’t you feel it’s your duty, as a seer—”
“To what?” I said. “Kill one of my own kind? No, I don’t.”
I bit my lip, forcing my light calm.
I should have been ready for this. I was ready for this, or so I’d thought. But he was there, listening. And it was like they’d all gotten together and decided to sequence their questions around Revik so that I couldn’t escape a single one.
“…and anyway,” I said, subduing my voice. “That’s not confirmed. That he was behind the attack on D.C., I mean. I was there, and I can tell you… things got pretty confused. I saw a lot of humans with guns, as well as seers. Moreover, it was the U.S. military’s decision to drop those bombs––not Syrimne’s, or any other seer’s.”
At the angry rustling in the room, and the addition of more raised hands, I held up my own hand, raising my voice.
“Please keep in mind, as well––Seertown had been destroyed only a week earlier. Granted, the United States government was cleared of any responsibility for the attack, but many seers saw American planes dropping at least a portion of those bombs. Many, many seers died in that attack. Many more than humans died in D.C., and seers can afford those deaths far less, given our population issues. Which is my point about this needing to come from both sides, this push to stop assigning blame and end the fighting before—”
“But isn’t it true,” a fourth human said, before I could redirect. “That your husband has called upon seers––all seers, including those who ostensibly follow the peaceful path of the Seven––to rise up against humans as a race? To destroy the legitimacy of the World Court and SCARB, dismantle the current system of regulating seer powers and overthrow human governments? ‘Separated’ or not, how can you excuse that?”
“I’m not excusing––” I began, but he cut me off.
“––And isn’t he advocating,” the man said, louder, touching his earpiece. “Overtly advocating, the use of violence to obtain these ends? To do whatever it takes… and I quote… ‘to remind worms we aren’t the same seers they cowed into submission all those years ago’…?”
I exhaled my held breath.
Leaning my forearms on the podium, I just stared at the reporter for a moment. Then, using words I knew even then I’d likely regret, I shrugged.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “But probably.”
“Probably?” the reporter said, incredulous.
“Yeah,” I said. “That sounds like him.”
Things pretty much degenerated from there.
2
DANCE
THE QUESTION AND answer period seemed to go on for hours, but according to ‘Dori and Vash, it ended after only about twenty minutes.
Staring out at the audience now, watching them mingle and drink the free alcohol we’d provided, I wondered what the fallout would be from some of my less well-thought-out remarks. Letting my mind regurgitate choice phrases out of the several rounds of increasingly aggressive questions, I leaned my forehead against a cement support beam and groaned, eyes closed.
“Let it go, Bridge Alyson,” Garensche advised.
“I may not be able to.”
“It is over now,” he said. “You are the leader. They see that. They are yelling at you, but it is because you are the leader. That was your job tonight. Nothing more.”
I nodded, trying to let his words sink in, even if I couldn’t quite believe them yet. I was tempted to ask him about the other thing, but didn’t.
Garensche answered me, anyway.
“Yes, I heard,” he said. “We all heard. He wanted us to hear.”
I nodded. “So it was a threat, then.”
“No.” He smiled. “I would not say that. Not to you, anyway.”
I fought the impulse to fidget with my hair, knowing I would only make a mess of the elaborate and meticulously-placed curls that Cass and the seer female whose name I never caught had sprayed, arranged and pinned up on my head with a number of jeweled fasteners.
When I glanced up, I saw Garensche looking at my hair, too.
Seeing me catch his appraising look, he smiled.
“Do not worry, ilya,” he said, again using the affectionate term I still hadn’t heard a precise meaning for. “We are looking for him. Despite Balidor’s paranoia, I do not think he is here, though. Everything is on feeds, and he can find you easily with the bond, especially when they show your real face. He does not need to be here. He is not so stupid.”
I exhaled a sharp laugh. “Yeah. Not stupid.”
“So no worries, then,” the giant smiled.
“No worries. Okay.”
I looked up at the clock on the wall, avoiding Balidor’s stare from a dozen feet away. I met Chandre’s though, saw her looking at me warily from under the other set of eaves. I knew she was worried about me. She, like Balidor, was also angry I’d come.
Truthfully, I wondered what she thought of the whole issue with Revik, too, given everything. I knew she’d been along for that op in D.C.
We hadn’t talked about it, but it formed a wedge between us that I still hadn’t quite managed to get over. I knew it was irrational. I knew that, but a big part of me didn’t care. I felt the same way about anyone who’d been in the room while Revik planned that op––unless they’d fought him on it, like Jon had.
When I glanced back at Garensche, I caught him staring at me again, this time looking me over in the green dress. I felt a glimmer of arousal off him, but nothing major.
I didn’t take it personally.
Seers had a tendency to be tactless when it came to sex, and borderline crude. Most of the time, it meant nothing.
Besides, I knew the only reason I was getting more male attention than usual these days was the pain thing. Like all seers, I sent out a kind of energetic pulse when forced to go without sex for too long. Marriage, instead of making this better, made it exponentially worse. Therefore, given my situation with Revik, I was likely broadcasting vibes that acted l
ike porno catnip on your average seer with an even semi-healthy libido.
Pretty hard to take any attention that came of that personally.
“So what now?” I asked him. “Do I mingle?”
Garensche shrugged.
“Some mingle, yes. ‘Dori thinks it’s okay. We’ve sealed the perimeter, the construct is good. The seers here, the hotel ones, they all check out.”
I nodded, glancing around absently. “Where’s Dorje? Cass?”
Garensche motioned with a thick hand towards the curtain, indicating the ballroom on the other side. I followed his hand, gritting my teeth a little. Above the piped-in music, I could still hear the rise and fall of voices, but I purposefully didn’t listen with either my light or my ears.
I didn’t need to know what they were saying, not yet. I could watch the feeds tomorrow, if I was really feeling like a masochist.
“Okay.” Taking a breath, I gestured towards the opening in the curtain, giving Garensche the polite form, as if our roles were reversed. “Lead the way.”
A grin split his face, stretching his full lips, making his teeth appear even longer and whiter than they were. His hazel eyes shone out over high cheekbones, light only because his skin was so dark. He would have been conventionally handsome, like Balidor, if not for the thick scar that ran from his ear through one dark eyebrow. Now he looked like a pirate.
I’d teased him and Cass that they looked like they’d been cellmates.
I could tease Cass about that kind of thing now.
She’d grown as crude as the majority of infiltrators in her banter, and seemed to wear the facial scar she’d received during her captivity with Terian with a certain perverse pride. Less than a year ago, she’d flinched whenever anyone even looked at it, so I couldn’t help but see this as an improvement. Even so, the ease with which she’d fallen in with some of the rougher elements of the seer community still made me uncomfortable.
Just like in the human world, her taste in men still left a lot to be desired.
The thought made me laugh a little, in spite of myself.
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