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Allie's War Season Two

Page 72

by JC Andrijeski


  But even in thinking all of that, Chandre found herself turning over the question separately, thinking about it in terms of herself.

  “I did not leave her,” she said finally. “Not in the way that you mean. I needed some time apart from her...from her team. I thought I could better spend that time helping Dehgoies.” At the other’s angry tsking sound, she raised her voice. “...Who, despite the measure of truth in your words, is doing good works. You must know what he did for our people, dismantling the Registry system...freeing prisoners under the boot of Black Arrow and other slavers...”

  “Dehgoies the Rook...” he muttered.

  She made an impatient gesture. “I did not think that would last.”

  “That what would not last? Him being evil?”

  She clicked in irritation at this, too, waving at him dismissively.

  Still, she could not tell him about her dual role with Balidor. She had no idea where Maygar’s own allegiances lay these days, and she hadn’t yet made up her mind to leave D.C., or to blow her cover with Wreg until it was absolutely necessary. For all she knew, Maygar would spill the beans to his Rook mother, intentionally or not.

  Maygar frowned at her, as if trying to read past her silence.

  “Chan, the guy’s certifiable. How is it that I’m the only one who seems to see it?”

  “You speak like a child does, Maygar,” she said curtly. “And you know things are not so simple with him. He and the Bridge cannot remain separate forever. In the end, working for him is not so different from working for her. They will both go the same way eventually, either towards the light or towards the dark...”

  “All the more reason to kill him,” he muttered, shifting under the bindings on his arms.

  “I simply have more faith in the Bridge than you appear to,” she said, her voice sharp. “I have more faith in him, as well...”

  “You must have more faith in him,” Maygar said. “For I have none at all.”

  She sighed a bit, clicking, but her voice grew more patient.

  “She will not let him go so easily, brother,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Right.”

  “She will try to help him. To bring some of his excesses under control...”

  “Until he murders her in her sleep,” he grumbled under his breath. “Or forces her to join him as a puppet of the Dreng...”

  But she talked over his sarcasm.

  “...You must recognize that she has influence over him, at least. I thought I could work more closely with him, help him with the operations that they are in agreement on, at least in principle. I expected to be back with her in not too long a time...and I had...” She hesitated, shrugging with one hand. “...My own reasons. For needing time apart.”

  There was another silence.

  Then Maygar snorted, inclining his head as he gestured with one bound hand.

  “Yes,” he said. “I heard about this, too.”

  “You heard about what?” Chandre said, a little shorter than she intended.

  “Cass. The Bridge’s human...and that Wvercian.” He smiled at her, his dark brown eyes flat. “That’s got to suck. I hear he’s a walking throwback. Nothing like being replaced by the brawny but moronic model...”

  “I do not know him,” she said stiffly.

  “Yeah,” Maygar said. “Right.” He inclined his head once more, his broad face tilted towards the window. “...Well, you should not take it personal, Chan.” Readjusting his posture, he raised an eyebrow. “...You know those Wvercians just have to be hung like horses.”

  Chandre felt her fingers tighten on the back of the chair. She stared at him, biting back her fury with an effort.

  “I have tied you to a chair,” she reminded him.

  Maygar smiled. “Yes. I caught that, sister. Very tightly, too...it is a bang up job, as my American friends would say.”

  “I overpowered you without even trying,” she said. “Like you were a Sark child...like you had no training at all whatsoever...”

  “Yeah, I caught that, too.” Frowning a bit, he sighed, looking down at the chains, then up at her, his brown eyes holding frustration. “Let me go, Chan. You know I didn’t intend you any harm. I only wanted to show you something.”

  “Show me...what?”

  “It’s in New York.”

  “What...is in New York?”

  He sighed in exasperation, clicking at her. “You are looking for a disease, right? Something that is supposed to kill off all the humans?”

  Chandre's hand halted from where she’d been about to put a piece of toast to her lips. Completing the motion, she took a bite of the buttered crust, chewing it slowly before she answered him.

  “How did you know that?” she said, lowering the hand to her lap.

  “I was with them at the White House.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I know this, too.” Taking another bite of toast in the pause, she glanced up at him as she chewed, putting the remainder back on the plate and setting it on the table. “The Bridge said you helped them. That you held her captive.”

  “Terian held her captive. And that creepy kid...”

  “But you were there?” she said. “How is that?”

  “My mother.”

  “Your...mother?”

  “Yeah,” he said, giving her an uncomfortable look. “My mother. She brought me there. I didn’t want to be there, believe me...” When Chan only stared at him, Maygar exhaled again in some irritation, clicking. “She pulled me out of Seertown...during the bombing. No one was watching me because of all the panic. After she helped Terian pick up Allie, she went back and found me. She took me with her to America.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” He gave a disbelieving laugh. “Because she’s my mother, Chan. She knew Dehgoies would have me killed the second he got the opportunity...and she knew the Seven would only stand by and let him.”

  “Your mother the Rook,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah,” he said, his face hard. “My mother the Rook.”

  Chan gauged his expression for a moment, gripping the back of the chair.

  “So what is it, then?” she said. “What are you now, Maygar?”

  He shrugged. “I’m nothing, Chan. I’ve been living in New York. Passing.”

  “And in your spare time...looking for deadly viruses that kill humans?”

  “No, look...that came to me."

  "Came to you how?"

  "It's complicated."

  "Complicated...how?" Chandre said, adding a bit of that warning back into her tone.

  "I heard about what happened in Hong Kong," Maygar said. "I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I ran into a bunch of seers in New York. Underground types...you know. Work for hires, doing some of the less legal jobs for high pay..."

  Chandre gave him a wry smile. "I thought most of those were ex-Rooks too, Maygar."

  He gave her a surly look, clicking in irritation.

  “The point is, we all got drunk together...and they let slip about their last job. They claimed they had the location of the lab where that virus was stored...that someone tried to pay them to break in and steal it. They also claimed it was the same virus used on that crowd in Hong Kong. They called it a 'demonstration' and said that their maybe 'client' told them that the disease would be deployed for real in the coming months..."

  "Where?" Chandre asked, stiffening.

  "I don't know, Chan." Maygar frowned at her, rolling his eyes a little.

  "Did they tell you anything about this deployment? Anything at all?"

  Maygar sighed. "I asked them about the deployment...if it would be water supply or something else, but they claimed they didn't know. They said it might even be somewhere in the United States, though..." Maygar frowned again, shrugging with one hand. "They were joking about it...saying I should ship out before things got ugly. They seemed to think no matter how many it killed, once it was really deployed there'd be total chaos..."

  “And who hir
ed them to steal this thing? This virus?”

  He shook his head, his almond-shaped eyes slanting sideways.

  “I don’t know exactly.”

  “But you suspect?” she said, reading his light, as well as his face.

  He conceded with a tilt of the same bound hand. "One of them let slip a name that I recognized."

  "Which is what?"

  Maygar sighed again, clicking in irritation. "I doubt you'd know her, Chan. There was this old seer my mom used to work with...or really for, I guess. I saw her at the White House a few times while I was there, and my mother told me that was her ‘real boss’...she seemed to think of Terian as a bit of a flunky. She said that they both really worked for the old woman, whether Terian would admit it to himself or not. She seemed to think Galaith answered to her, too...”

  “Old woman?” Chandre said, straightening in her chair.

  “Yeah. She was like a fossil...scary, really. Face like a reptile. All of the humans were terrified of her...”

  “What was her name, Maygar?” she said, impatient.

  “She was going by some human name, impersonating the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. They’d eliminated the real one, of course, to put her there...”

  He hesitated, and she knew he was recalling it from the relevant portion of his light.

  “...Novak,” he affirmed, nodding. “That was it.”

  "Is that the name these freelancers told you of?"

  "No," Maygar said. "They only knew her by her seer name."

  “Which is what, Maygar?” she said. “The seer name?”

  “The only name I ever heard my mother use was Xarethe. That was the name those black marketers mentioned. They said a seer named Xarethe hired them...”

  There was a silence.

  In it, Chandre looked at him, feeling her fingers curl around the wood of the plain-backed kitchen chair.

  “Do you know where she is now?” Chandre said.

  “Lizard lady?” he said. “No.”

  “What about your mother?”

  He hesitated, his eyes growing more evasive.

  Chandre smiled. “I will not hurt your mother, Maygar. I only wondered if I could speak with her. If she would talk to me...”

  “She’s in China, I think,” he said finally. “Last I knew. She and that Lao Hu dragon lady are friends. You know...Voi Pai. She said they had some work for her.”

  “Would she speak to me, do you think? If you asked her?”

  He frowned a little, looking at her. “Honestly? I doubt it.”

  Chandre nodded. Still watching his face intently, she took another drink of coffee, mulling over his words. Finally, curiosity leaked into her voice, almost without her willing it.

  “Why me, Maygar? Why did you bring this to me?”

  He gave her a surprised look.

  “We were friends,” he said. “I thought we were anyway. I thought you might be the only one of that bunch who wouldn’t shoot me on sight...and I figured the Bridge had to be interested in this...” He shrugged, his eyes turning more cold. “...Or her Rook husband, if not her. I wasn’t sure which of them you were working for, honestly. I had some hope you were infiltrating him, working for her...”

  Hesitating, he glanced at her, his dark eyes holding more of a predatory edge.

  “Are you, Chan?”

  She only laughed, rolling her eyes at him, seer-fashion.

  “Well,” he said, frowning. “Is it true then, Chan? Can you tell me that, at least?”

  She felt her mouth tighten.

  “Is what true?” she said, although she knew what he meant.

  “What they say? About what she did to him?”

  Chan shrugged, her eyes indifferent. “I have heard many things that she is supposed to have done with him. They cannot all be true.”

  “Did she really infiltrate his operation? Take it down from the inside?”

  Chandre felt herself hesitate. Finally, she gestured a yes in seer sign language.

  “That part appears to be true, yes.”

  “I don’t suppose the rumors that she killed him are true?”

  She rolled her eyes impatiently. “You and I both know how unlikely that is. If it were true, we’d be hearing about her death by now...”

  “Does she have him locked up somewhere?”

  Chan shrugged again, with the same hand. “Honestly, I do not know. That seems to be the prevailing theory. And the most likely of all the fictions I have heard.”

  “What do you suppose she’s doing with him?” he said.

  “Doing with him?” Chan smiled faintly, leaning her arm on the back of the chair as she raised the mug back to her lips. “I would not get my hopes up, brother Maygar. I have my doubts she is putting hot coals on his feet...”

  “But things must have fallen out with them,” he insisted. “They must have, right? She wouldn’t have done this...not if they were still married. Not if they were still bonded to one another. She wouldn’t have tranked him like a rabid animal...not from his own bed.”

  “Bonds are one-way, Maygar,” she said, her voice warning. “It will never just ‘go away,’ no matter how much you might wish it to be so...”

  “I have heard they can be broken,” he muttered.

  “Have you?” She smiled at him faintly. “From who? Another of your old lady Rook scientists? This is news to me, Maygar...I know of no such ‘loophole’ clause in lifelong mates...”

  But Maygar smiled at her, shaking his head a little.

  “I never said she was a scientist, Chan.” Smiling wider at the irritated look that came to her face, he laughed. “You are interested in her. You are so interested, it is taking all of your willpower to pretend that you are not...”

  “What is in New York?” she said.

  “Untie me, and I’ll show you.”

  Exasperated, Chandre clicked at him for a moment. Then, realizing she had already made up her mind to go with him anyway, she rose to her feet, setting the empty coffee mug on a cork coaster with an image of the Capitol Building stamped on the front. Walking over to him, she fished the keys to the cuffs out of her pocket.

  “Remember how quickly I took you down,” she said.

  “I remember,” he muttered, glancing up at her.

  “Remember that I can do it again.”

  Standing by him, however, she could feel in his light that he had relaxed. She doubted he had developed such a skill at infiltration in the past year that he could feign compliance so thoroughly as to fool her, not when she was standing so close to him. Still, she gave his face a last warning look before she averted her gaze.

  “You have a car?” she said.

  “Yes. It’s out front.”

  Chandre nodded. As she squatted down to begin unlocking the first cuff on his wrist, his eyes craned past her, gazing somewhat wistfully to the kitchen.

  “I don’t suppose you have any more of that toast?” he said.

  She snorted a low laugh, reaching for the cuff around his second wrist after she had unlocked the first.

  “We will make you toast,” she said. “You can eat it while you drive. Or we will go to one of those horrible places with the food in boxes...the places the humans like...”

  Maygar shook his head, clicking, but she heard the humor in it.

  When she glanced up, he was looking at her, his brown eyes clear as he rubbed his unchained wrists. It struck her again that some of the piss seemed to have been knocked out of him in the past year or so since she’d last seen him. Maybe from his having been ostracized from the Seven and most of the seers in Seertown for what he’d done to Allie. Maybe from Allie herself nearly killing him with her telekinesis. Maybe from something he had witnessed while being forced to rely on his Rook mother for protection.

  Either way, the arrogant, halfway-smirking look she normally associated with his broad, Chinese-looking features had changed somewhat.

  Not quite softened, but perhaps lost some of its punch.

  �
�You all right, Rook?” she said teasingly, slapping his back. “You look like you might cry.”

  For a second, he didn’t answer. When he did, it was with the last words she would have expected from him.

  “Thanks, Chan,” he said. He looked at her again, his dark eyes serious. “You are a good sister to me. Even when I have not deserved it.”

  She glanced up at this, hiding her surprise with an effort.

  Then she grunted, squatting back down by the chains at his ankles.

  “I will tie you up any time you like, brother Maygar,” she said, pulling out the second key on the ring. “...Just don’t expect me to play with you once I have.”

  He laughed at this, the most genuinely she’d heard him since he’d arrived. He was still rubbing his wrist as she unlocked the first of two organic cuffs from around his ankle, cracking it open with a soft pop.

  “I think you can be assured that I will never make that mistake with you, sister Chandre.”

  “That is good, Maygar...good,” she said. “Perhaps then, you are learning after all.”

  IT TOOK THEM a few hours to get to New York.

  Maygar seemed to know where he was going, she noticed; he drove without programming the GPS, and without seeming to be thinking overly about the details of his navigation. He barely seemed to be concentrating on the road at all, in fact, as he steered them towards the New Jersey Turnpike. Instead, his attention still appeared to be mainly focused on her...and on the sandwich he ate with an almost unnerving enthusiasm after they stopped at one of the human restaurants on the way to the highway.

  She watched him swallow mouthfuls without chewing in some distaste, and not only because he kept spilling bits of the sauce on the front of his dark blue T-shirt. She’d often wondered how it was that some seers developed such a taste for human food...particularly of the most poisoned variety.

  When they entered Manhattan through the Holland Tunnel and popped out on Canal Street, she found herself frowning.

  She had forgotten about this place, about what it was like.

 

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