Allie's War Season One

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Allie's War Season One Page 51

by JC Andrijeski


  I gave her an incredulous look. “Jesus. What is with you?”

  Chan leaned further over Cass’ shoulder, laughing. “You sure you ready for him, Bridge? We seers like some violence in our sex. If he’s been faithful, he’s going to be hungry. Hungry seers are dangerous.” She laughed again. “...Even the males...” She took a drink of her beer, squeezing Cass’ shoulder.

  Cass shrugged at me with a mock apologetic look.

  “I can’t take her anywhere,” she said.

  “What the hell have you two been feeding Chan?” I complained.

  I glanced at Jon, who just smiled, waving me off. “Don’t look at me.”

  Chandre rested her chin on Cass’ shoulder, still grinning. “You ever been with a seer yet, Bridge? Not just Dehgoies...any of us?”

  Feeling my face redden, I gave her a bare glance. “Piss off, Chan.”

  The seer laughed. “You’re in for a surprise. He’s going to have to be careful when he pops your cherry...you being the Bridge and all...”

  “Chan!” I turned on her, angry for real. “Put a sock in it, okay?”

  Seeing her stroking Cass’ arm brought me up short. I realized for the first time I’d been blind to all the affection going on there and swiveled my head, cocking an eyebrow at Cass.

  Rolling her eyes up subtly, she gave me an impatient look before she shrugged, the equivalent of, “Well, duh.” Her face, still delicate on the parts untouched by the thick scar, quirked in a small smile.

  I saw Chandre look between us, then grip Cass’s shoulder more tightly with her fingers. I couldn’t fail to miss the possessiveness in the gesture, or the affectionate look Cass gave the dark-skinned seer when she glanced up.

  “Huh,” I said, mostly to myself.

  “Not trying to offend you, Bridge,” Chandre said. “Just teasing. It’s a tradition you know, to give crap to newlyweds...”

  “Well, lay off the—” I began, but someone else yelled from the door.

  “Bridge! Look, it is the Bridge! I told you! There she is!”

  I sighed internally.

  “Hey, Bridge!” Another excited voice. “That’s her, see! Wave to her! She is raised human, wave! Yes...like this...”

  I tried not to notice the enthusiastic hand-waving coming from the direction of the red-painted door. When I smiled, nodding back with a short wave, more excited murmurings erupted from the other end of the room.

  I glanced around subtly, but my guard seemed to have disappeared.

  “I’ll get rid of him, Bridge,” Chandre said, businesslike. “They should not be here...bothering you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved her off. “Just what I need...a drunk infiltrator with a gun. It’s okay. You guys stay here, I need to find Yerin anyway. Supposedly the rest of the Adhipan are getting here today. I’m supposed to be at the compound to greet them...do the leader thing.”

  Jon glanced up. “Want me to come?”

  I snorted. “So you can check out all the cute seer boys from China? No. I don’t think so.”

  I was totally kidding, but Jon colored a little anyway.

  He was the last one on earth to go out on the open prowl like that. Seeming to realize I was teasing him then, he raised his eyebrows a few times in quick succession.

  “Is it my fault I’m ridiculously good-looking?”

  “No,” I said. “It’s not...but someone has to bear that burden.” Rolling my eyes then, I called his bluff. “I wish you would hit on someone. Jeez Louise, Jon. You’re thirty-two years old. You’ve been propositioned by half of the unattached male seers in Seertown and you still spend all your time hanging out with those monks, reading books covered in chicken-scratches...”

  “I’m learning.” He flushed a little. “I’m not really in the mood to be chatted up by a bunch of horny seers. Give me some credit, sis.”

  “I give you credit. I give you loads of credit. What about that Garend guy? He seemed cool...and he’s cute.”

  “Seers are too promiscuous.” He glanced at Chan, then, seeming to remember, back at me. “...No offense. I just mean the unattached ones. I don’t really want to be the curiosity of the week. They’re only interested because I keep saying no, anyway.”

  “No,” Chan said, shaking her finger at him, seer-fashion. “No, they are interested because you are indecently cute, and horny as hell under all your fake human monk airy-fairy bullshit.” She took another swig of beer. “You are being stupid, worm. Why turn down perfectly good sex? It is a waste...”

  I laughed. “See? I don’t even have to lecture you anymore. You’ve got Chan here...” I made a face. “Only I hope I don’t sound so...crass...”

  “You don’t.” He swallowed a mouthful of seltzer. “...Usually.”

  When I started to say something more, Jon cut me off.

  “Just leave it, Al. I don’t need a talking to, okay? I’m good.”

  “Okay, okay...” I held up my hands. “I don’t care what you do. It’s typical projection anyway. Since I’m not getting any, I figure I might as well meddle with your love life, right?”

  He shook his head, granting me a short laugh. “Sure.”

  Patting him on the shoulder, I slid off my barstool, just in time to find four seers barring my way. Startled, I came to a stop, then smiled, putting on the leader face.

  They were harmless. Besides, Vash gave me this whole talk about morale, about how my presence here gave them all hope. According to him, the arrival of the Bridge helped some of them make sense of all the atrocities they’d been forced to endure at the hands of humans.

  His logic made sense...sort of...but I still felt like I was acting in a play and didn’t know the script.

  I took a cautious step, still smiling, and they moved to let me pass, touching my clothing reverentially as I aimed my feet for the door. Only two of them spoke; the others seemed only to want to stand next to me. I felt their light whispering around mine, even as they made respectful gestures with their hands. Their heads remained bowed as they followed me to the door.

  Once I reached the exit, I stiffened a little, seeing the crowd waiting outside through the rectangular window in the plank door. So much for traveling incognito. It must have something to do with the holiday for Syrimne.

  Pasting the smile wider on my face, I braced myself, opening the door.

  Just then, someone grabbed my arms from behind.

  I let out a yell as my feet left the ground. But whoever it was didn’t hit me...they forced me to the floor. Before I could take a breath, he’d covered me with his body.

  I heard the shots a second later...just before the sound of breaking glass.

  Then the screaming began.

  Looking towards the bar, I saw my friends already off their stools and crouched by the long bar. Chandre, all business now, every trace of the alcohol gone from her expression, was gesturing to someone else in the room, holding Cass’ wrist as she clicked her fingers sharply.

  Jon already had a gun in his good hand. My brother the pacifist.

  I barely recognized my friends these days.

  More shots were fired. I heard more screaming on the streets below, but it was getting quieter, so the crowd must have scattered. Someone was shooting a rifle from the poolroom window only a half-dozen feet from where I lay, but it wasn’t at me; it was at someone outside. I saw two others run past me, darting through the open door swinging on its hinges and clattering down the rickety wooden staircase on the other side.

  Seconds later, those same feet pounded on the street.

  The man lying on me was half-crushing me; all I could think was that I wanted him off.

  Instantly, the pressure on me lessoned...which told me one thing at least. He was a seer. I could still feel his heart beating through my back.

  Glancing up, I met his gaze, startled by the nearness of his gray eyes.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Returning my appraisal, he smiled. “Of course, Esteemed Bridge.”

  A FEW HO
URS later, I slid through an opening in the cloth drape hanging over the door. I entered a wide room with a bamboo ceiling. A wall-sized painting of the blue sun and sword met me, below which stood a wooden alter covered in candles. A number of gold tapestries framed in intricately embroidered blue and orange thread hung on either side. Beyond the altar, a window opened out on the Himalayas, which still looked like something from a painting to me.

  I saw Vash first, seated cross-legged under the stone fireplace to the other side of the altar. He smiled when he saw me.

  His smooth-faced, monk-like students didn’t.

  Cass and Jon had beaten me there, as had Chandre. All three of them sat against the far wall. I saw the seer who had wrestled me to the floor of the poolroom. He watched me cross the room. Curiosity shone in his gray eyes.

  I’d asked who he was, of course, before I got there. I’d been surprised at the answer, and not only because I’d actually heard of him. His name was Balidor, and I’d first heard his name from Revik, on the ship we took between Vancouver and Russia.

  Balidor was the senior infiltrator of the Adhipan—a mysterious and elite cadre of infiltrators loyal to the Seven. The Adhipan were legendary, kind of like the Jedi of the seers, although Revik would have said holy warriors, maybe. They normally operated in secret, based out of a stronghold somewhere in the Pamir.

  Revik had talked them up quite a bit, during our training sessions. He mentioned this man in particular, making him out as a kind of seer superhero.

  His name was Balidor only. No clan name. Everyone in the Adhipan gave up their clan affiliation when they joined. Their clan became the Adhipan.

  According to Dorje and Yerin, Balidor had only just come to Seertown, but his people had been protecting me secretly for weeks. Now he crouched before Vash on one knee, a hand raised in mid-gesture.

  I had interrupted something.

  Not at all, Most Esteemed Bridge, Balidor sent politely, rising from his knee. He gestured for me to approach, his smile disarming. We were waiting for you. I simply wished to pay my respects...

  I nodded. “All right. I can wait, though...”

  “There is no need,” he said, stepping back.

  Hearing him speak English, I realized that was the language I had used. Most seers in Asia didn’t know English. Stumped, I only nodded again.

  Balidor resembled a human in young middle-age, which told me he likely topped the four hundred year mark. Still, there was no way to know for certain. Chandre looked like mid-twenties to me, and I found out from Maygar she was over two hundred years old, nearly twice Revik’s age, although he looked closer to thirty.

  According to Maygar, though, Chandre looked young for her age. I’d been thinking all this as I approached them, and was surprised when Balidor chuckled.

  That she does, he sent. He smiled a nod towards Chandre, who gave me a ‘thanks a lot’ sideways eye roll.

  Still, I could tell it didn’t bother her. She wasn’t really into guys anyway.

  Chandre snorted. I saw a faint smile touch Balidor’s lips, just before his eyes followed Chandre’s to Cass.

  He didn’t miss much, this Balidor.

  “So,” I said, clearing my throat. I used Prexci, the seer language. Like I mentioned, most seers didn’t know English. My Prexci was still pretty bad, though...my accent, according to Maygar, “comical.” Still, I could understand most of what was said, especially with Vash’s help in the background.

  “Can we begin?” I said.

  Balidor bowed his head, sitting back, so that he joined the ring of cross-legged seers.

  They all looked up at me expectantly. I nodded to Balidor, and their eyes swiveled to him. He bowed to me in thanks. I had to fight not to give him the ‘just get on on with it’ hand gesture.

  Seers were big on formality.

  Smiling faintly, he turned to the rest of the group.

  “We caught one of the shooters.” He glanced at me. “Female. She wasn’t local. From preliminary scans, it is clear she once ran with the Rooks...she had the Barrier signature of having being detached from the Pyramid. We have not yet determined where her loyalties lie now. The other, a male, is still being tracked. They tell me we should have him by nightfall. Wellington...”

  He glanced at me, then elaborated for the others.

  “...The Terian being who is impersonating the human President of the United States, Ethan Wellington...has a significant number of seers protecting him, seemingly more every day. We have identified twenty-six in his immediate circle so far. He moves between several constructs in the White House, and in private residences and governmental buildings. Several of these have been fortified from constructions that existed when Daniel Caine...the being we now know as Galaith...held the Presidential seat.”

  He flashed images as he spoke. Having been American most of my life, I recognized a lot of the locations. Those I didn’t know were likely either specific to Wellington, or close enough to military or security concerns that un-doctored images didn’t make it to the news feeds.

  “...Since the dispersion of the Rooks’ main network,” Balidor continued.

  He paused while a brief flash of the Pyramid crumbling, breaking apart on its moorings, touched the collective group. I felt all of the seers in the room pause to acknowledge me silently...almost like a recitation after the mention of a dead person’s name.

  Again, I inwardly sighed.

  “...He seems to have made it a priority to gain control of key pieces of the human infrastructure,” Balidor said, giving me another faint smile. “Namely the military and corporate leadership, but also communications...” He looked at me, his mouth suddenly grim. “...Including all news feeds deemed legitimate by the human public. So your interest in outing him as a seer is likely not feasible at this juncture, esteemed Bridge, and carries certain dangers...”

  I blinked at him, then looked at Vash.

  Clearly, my ideas were traveling a lot further than I had realized.

  “For one,” Balidor added. “We now have reason to believe that the Wellington body is biologically 100% human. So a disclosure of that kind could backfire...and make him seem like a terrorist target. Or simply damage your credibility further—”

  “What else?” I said, motioning him on.

  “He is clearly attempting to isolate the United States as a geographic and political entity within a particular Barrier construct. He wants them cut off from the rest of the world.” Balidor flashed the image of a bubble of light solidifying over the land mass of the United States. “...He is fanning racial tensions internally, and not only between Sarks and humans. He is inciting ethnic prejudices as well, particularly against those humans whose ancestors come from Asia. He does this mainly through subtle phrases in his speeches...”

  “To what effect?” one of the monks spoke up. “What purpose does this serve?”

  I noticed the rest of the monks leaning forward as well, long fingers clasped on knees or folded together in laps as they awaited Balidor’s response. Traditional seers were extremely curious about human to human interactions and conflicts. Things that had obvious meaning to someone raised human were unfathomable to the majority of seers.

  Balidor, however, could not possibly belong to that camp of seer. He’d been in at least two major human wars. Dorje also told me Balidor had been the leader of the Adhipan when they helped bring down Syrimne. He’d shown me a picture they had framed in one of the prayer cabins of the final hunting party.

  In the center stood the human who claimed the killing shot, a defector from the Bavarian army with the unlikely name of Hraban Novotny, thereafter known only as “Galaith”...as in, you guessed it, Galaith. Looking at the photo though, I understood why no one made the connection. The photograph was grainy, and Galaith disappeared soon after, rumored to have been killed by angry seers. When he emerged forty years later as Daniel Caine, another human, who would have connected the dots, especially since he hadn’t aged?

  In that same pho
tograph, right behind Galaith, stood Balidor.

  He’d been looking away from the camera, out over a burnt field, holding a German infantry rifle in the crook of his arm and frowning slightly. He’d looked very much the same as he did now...only a lot dirtier.

  I asked Dorje how Balidor failed to recognize Daniel Caine when he stepped up as president later. After an awkward silence, Dorje confessed to me, somewhat apologetically, that most seers barely noticed the differences between humans.

  From the Barrier, they all looked the same.

  So Balidor probably just figured Daniel Caine looked a bit like Hraban Novotny, and never gave it another thought. According to Dorje, most seers never really believed Galaith made the killing shot anyway. The fact that Caine always tested human further removed any reason to look at him more closely. Humans, after all, aged visibly in fifty years.

  Now, in Vash’s chambers, Balidor just shrugged at the monk’s question. He glanced at me before turning to the peaceful, nonviolent seers sitting around him in a half-circle.

  “To heighten paranoia and aggression,” he explained. “To help other humans, civilians, feel a willingness to make war against humans who have done them no personal wrong. To make those same humans feel afraid of those they would be fighting.”

  I saw the monks whisper to one another, looking dismayed. I didn’t want to be insensitive, but we couldn’t treat this as an anthropological experiment either.

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat. “Balidor? What are your thoughts? Can we influence from the Chinese side?”

  Balidor clicked softly as he shook his head.

  “We now suspect Terian has at least one operative high up in the Chinese government,” he said. “We are having difficulty identifying who...a serious impediment, in terms of finding means of effective influence. The Chinese government is also suffering from a number of factional issues at this time. We suspect Terian is fanning those difficulties, and persuading them that war is the easiest solution to reunite the populace...

  “...The Chinese are less naive about seers, however,” Balidor added. “Therefore, it is not only Terian who is blocking our attempts to gain access. We must negotiate with factions who are attempting to discern from inside China what outside influences may be contributing to the unrest. They have a few hundred of their own seers, many of whom are genuinely loyal to the Chinese government. We have attempted to speak with a few of them, to persuade them that we mean their masters no harm, but they are highly suspicious of us.

 

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