Allie's War Season One

by JC Andrijeski

  8

  CHILDREN

  TARSI WALKED ALONGSIDE me on a steep, wooded path. She didn’t stray far, but let me absorb the recording on her portable reader on my own.

  Looking at the images of the miniature broken bodies, shown in full color and in every sickening detail of non-avatar flesh, it struck me with a fresh wave of nausea that these were the first seer children I’d ever seen.

  Pregnant seers were usually sent away as soon as they learned of their condition. Seer children were born in secret, and sent not long after to schools set up as monasteries, far outside of any official settlements. Those not run by Rooks lay deep in the mountains to discourage slave traders, and were heavily guarded by specially trained squads under the Adhipan called Lokapaala, which translated roughly as “Guardians of the World.”

  It all seemed a bit overdone to me until Vash explained that each healthy child, once sight trained and “made docile,” fetched anywhere from 100-500K Euros on the black market...higher if they fit one of the rare categories of coloring or sight rank, or if they displayed any one or combination of a few dozen preferential traits.

  With seer traders, prevailing wisdom was the younger the better. Girls were prized more than boys, for reproductive capability and perceived “relative docility,” which was frankly laughable to me, given the female seers I’d met so far. Sex was almost always a factor, too, for those high-end purchases. The majority of customers were still men.

  I closed my eyes, breathing in cold air.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how many were left...in total, I mean. Had that been a third of the seer children currently alive? A fifth? A tenth? Half?

  The complex where the massacre occurred had been located in the mountains of Sikkim, a kingdom in the far Northeast of India. It called itself a “school,” but the recording I saw showed sensory deprivation cells, collars, restraints, iron bars and evidence of extremely crowded living conditions. Whoever shot and narrated the film speculated that it had been a training and recruiting ground for Rook infiltrators.

  At least 1,100 kids had been interned there, ranging from 5-25 years...which meant some had been babies.

  I’d learned a few things about seers and their children since I’d first arrived in India. For one thing, seers didn’t reproduce as easily as human beings. Children were a big deal, even before the trade wars following World War II. There were a number of reasons for this. A disproportionately high number of adult seers were completely sterile...like over a third, maybe as many as half who made it to child-bearing years would never be able to conceive.

  Fertile couples were lucky to have one. More than one was unusual...anything more than two extremely rare. Even fertile females were completely sterile for more than a decade after they were impregnated, whether they carried to term or not.

  Seers didn’t reproduce until they were older, too—a few hundred years old, at least. Now that life spans for all seers had generally decreased, seer children were considered a matter of community interest. Most diplomatic battles fought by the Seven involved the safety of their children in some way.

  But it was more than that. A profound silence lived around the subject of seer children and reproduction, despite frequent jokes and banter about sex. Even among friends it was a sensitive topic. Many older seers had lost children through Rook recruitment, war, religiously-motivated purges, murder, communism, prison, internment, laboratories or outright stealing. Parents mourned having a female child as they had to immediately be sent away, perhaps never to be seen again until they were a full-grown adult, and then only if they were lucky.

  Children were only discussed in the abstract, or if a parent initiated a report of some good news relative to their offspring. When they did, everyone took a sincere and somber interest.

  Maygar told me once that children were even buried in adult-sized coffins.

  I handed the reader back to Tarsi. “Do I need to go back?”

  “No.” Folding up the organic monitor, she stuffed it into a bag that hung sideways across her body. She shrugged with one hand, seer-fashion.

  Not yet. The Adhipan will go there.

  I hesitated, not sure if that was good enough. After a pause, I decided to push past it. Balidor knew what he was doing.

  I looked out over the trees, trying not to worry about how long we’d been walking, or how dark it was getting. I had planned on walking, and putting a good distance between myself and the compound...but when Tarsi led me on and on, trekking over a dirt trail that wound between two mountains, I found myself getting nervous. The sun was sinking between the mountains before us, and she still showed no sign that we might be getting close to our destination.

  She wasn’t doing anything to my light that I could notice though. I wasn’t blocked from scanning for Vash or Balidor or anyone else.

  I considered checking in with Revik...then didn’t. I had no idea what to say to him, at least not yet, and I still wasn’t ready to deal with whatever emotional reaction he might have had to the thing with Maygar. Tarsi told me she’d instructed all of them to leave me alone.

  Even Revik, she said.

  A number of feelings arose around that, not all of them relief.

  A few times she stopped, breathing hard as we shared views of valleys filled with lush green and the occasional outlying farm.

  I tried to engage her in questions, but only got vague or no answers. At one point, she lay a finger to her lips and gestured around us. I took that to mean that she wanted to wait until we were in some kind of construct.

  After that, I left her alone.

  A stillness lived in the Himalayas, even in their lowest foothills. Spring had wound its way into the woods. Greenery erupted under my feet, turning the soil beneath a dark brown. A cry sounded overhead and I looked up, watching another gold-feathered eagle wheel in looping circles against the blue sky, its shadow flickering between cracks in the dark curtain of evergreen trees. I decided to just be here, forget everything else.

  Time passed easily from that space. We reached our destination as the first stars grew faintly visible in the east.

  Due to the angle and its position half-immersed in rock, I didn’t see the door to the crouched dwelling at first. I just stood there, breathing hard, thinking we were resting on a grassy knoll before the next steep cliff, when I noticed light flickering between cracks in the rock face.

  I stared at that flame-like light for close to a minute before my eyes drew the correct lines out of the natural fissures.

  The clearing around her home was small, half-shielded by a copse of hard, twisted trees. By then, my breath plumed out in clouds from the cold air, but my t-shirt stuck to my back with sweat from the last half-hour of hiking, most of it straight uphill. Pine needles and mud caked my boots. Winded from the thinned oxygen, I had trudged without stopping for the last mile, marveling that the ancient seer seemed to weather the climb better than me.

  Patches of snow still dotted the ground, and cracking fingers of ice framed the water in a stone basin outside the wooden door. Recent snowmelt trickled down one side of the path in a ribbon-like stream. I continued to suck in breaths as we stood there, knowing my face was bright red from exertion.

  “Your house?” I said.

  She gestured in affirmative. Then I smelled it. Wood smoke wafted from a larger crack past the dugout’s entrance. I stared at it, then looked at her.

  “Someone’s here?”

  She made the affirmative gesture again. “Had the girl come to light it, so we’d not be so cold.”

  “The girl,” I said.

  Instead of words, she sent a flicker of imagery, as casual as a blown kiss.

  ‘The girl’ appeared to be around thirty, which meant she was likely closer to three hundred since she was clearly a seer from her wide, opaque, blue eyes. She lived with her mate on a farm in a nearby valley, and brought food to the woman, staples mostly, but also cooked meals when she was (away? flying? traveling?)...I got the impress
ion these journeys didn’t involve Tarsi actually leaving her cave.

  Clicking out of the Barrier, I studied Tarsi’s face, shoving my hands in my front pants pockets. My fingers grew numb as soon as we stood still long enough for me to notice, and the pants didn’t help much. What I really wanted was a shower...or maybe a sauna.

  The old woman clicked to herself softly, walking to the wooden door.

  I followed, and saw a sliver of moon rising over the valley, already above the horizon. I remembered, somehow, that it was waning. In a few days, I’d be faced with yet another new moon.

  So much drama, Tarsi teased. He knows where you are.

  “Is he all right?” I realized how that sounded. ...With where I am, I mean.

  Of course not. She smiled. But he knows you are safe.

  Not exactly reassured, I followed her through the door.

  I stopped again in the small foyer, watching her speak to “the girl,” who was stirring something over the stone fireplace. The fireplace itself reminded me of a pioneer dwelling I’d visited outside San Francisco once, a reconstruction by one historical society or another. Tarsi poked at the fire with a metal rod, then nodded to the other female, speaking a language I couldn’t understand.

  The younger seer didn’t look up when I first walked in, but she smiled at me now, her wide, brown face wrinkling into lines of sun, wind and good humor. She had the faraway look of one who spent a lot of time staring at snow.

  I raised a hand, smiling back, then just stood there, taking in the small space.

  Rugs and blankets covered stone floors. A kitchen nook was hung with dried plants beside a colorful cabinet without doors, filled with jars of different-colored spices and more plants, along with ceramic plates and bowls. The furniture was all wood, including a small table and two chairs made of what looked like driftwood, near the fireplace. On the mantle stood a row of candles in iron holders and a number of figurines that looked to be carved from volcanic stone.

  There was only one bed, but a pallet had been set up on the floor beside it, dressed in thick furs. I assumed that was for me.

  The girl clicked to the old woman in that oddly-accented Prexci.

  “I bring...” (something I didn’t get) “...grandmother?” the girl said. “...for you and your...” (I lost it again). “She want now?”

  Tarsi cuffed the back of the dark head affectionately. “Yes,” was all I understood in the hand gestures that followed, but I saw the girl smile with perfect white teeth. She stood then, bowing to me with a palm tilted before her face, a seer gesture of respect.

  I did it back, half-wanting to correct her and not knowing how.

  Of course, I’d forgotten she was a seer.

  Ah, but it is much deserved, Bridge Alyson! Grandmother is too kind, allowing me to serve you both while you are here...

  “Serve,” I muttered. I tried to return her warm smile, but mine felt strained.

  I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

  Thank you for your kind words, I sent.

  She smiled, but I saw a thread of puzzlement in her opaque, indigo-colored eyes. The old woman shooed her towards me. I watched warily as the girl approached—moreso when she gestured at my shirt, indicating that she would help me take it off.

  I glanced at Tarsi.

  “What’s this?” I said. “Can we not do this?”

  “No shower here, Bridge. No sauna, either.”

  I followed her pointing finger to a large wooden basin that reminded me of an old wine barrel, cut in half lengthwise. The water in it was steaming, and it occurred to me that the faint smell of flowers I’d noticed in the room came from there. It stood near to the fireplace, which made me hesitate.

  “You’re not going to eat me, are you?” I joked.

  The old woman smiled, but her eyes sharpened a bit, looking even more like Revik’s.

  “Get in the water, Bridge. I can’t have you getting sick.” She smiled, and this time I felt humor behind it. I suspect you’ll be happy to have had it, soon enough, she added, startling me again with her more cultured internal voice. ...It is easy to get lost while hunting. You may not get a chance again for several days. The girl will not abuse you...she would not even think of such a thing, Esteemed Bridge.

  I glanced at the girl.

  “Abuse” hadn’t really occurred to me, either. I more didn’t like the idea of being naked in a strange place, even if it was in front of an old woman and a female seer whose kind eyes clearly didn’t scream “infiltrator.” I glanced again at the tub. I watched steam curl off the water, rubbing my arms against the chill that had seeped in from my wet shirt. I decided I was too far in to start having second thoughts about these people.

  Ignoring the girl’s offer of help, I yanked my shirt over my head.

  Untying my pants and sliding those off with my underwear, I only hesitated another second before grabbing the wooden sides of the tub. I climbed in carefully, conscious of the two women watching me, wincing as the hot water sloshed over my skin. Once standing in the knee-high water, I lowered myself the rest of the way until it rose to within a few centimeters of the brim. Sighing, I dunked my head all the way under and stretched out, eyes closed.

  The old woman offered me a clay cup of something steaming and her arm brushed mine. Unlike the coarseness of her fingers, the skin of her forearm felt rubbed to the softness of lambskin. I took the cup from her, and sniffed the brown liquid. It smelled like a nutty kind of coffee. I smiled in pleased surprise.

  Tarsi sent, Better now, Bridge?

  Nodding, I sipped the hot drink. It tasted even better than it smelled. I watched her pour herself a mug of the same.

  “You really told them to leave me alone?” I snorted a little. “How long do you think that’ll work?”

  I told them at least a week, she sent, no trace of humor in her thoughts. I’ll extend it, if that ends up being not long enough. They won’t come here.

  I felt the smile and the blood leave my face.

  I hadn’t even thought of Revik consciously yet, but a dull ache started in my fingers. Nausea slid through my chest when I tried to swallow.

  “A week?” I sat up in the tub. “Look, there’s a war going on. Someone just went serial killer on a bunch of kids. I may be a crappy leader, but I’m still their leader.” I clutched the mug tighter. “If this is about Maygar—”

  “Not about rape,” she said, her voice warning. “The conversation is long, Alyson the Bridge. Longer than one night. I need you here.”

  “Do I have a choice?” I said, glancing at the girl.

  “Always have a choice,” Tarsi said with a shrug. ...But I would think you could control your hormones long enough to do something of real importance. I would think this would matter more to you...

  I blinked at her, then looked at the girl. My jaw tightened.

  Tarsi clicked softly. No offense meant, Bridge. Just putting things in perspective. I understand your situation. But this matters more.

  A presence enveloped me—warm, immersing me in a dense softness that made my breath catch, that seemed to penetrate my heart. For a moment, all I saw were her clear eyes.

  ...If it could wait, she added. ...I would. But it can’t wait, Alyson.

  “I don’t like being ordered around,” I said. I don’t like it, I repeated.

  The old seer chuckled.

  The presence lifted even as I realized it was hers.

  He’ll wait for you...don’t worry. Tarsi sat in one of the chairs beside the fireplace, smiling at me in a friendly way. The girl tucked a blanket around her feet and legs. ...If it helps, you are calm compared to him right now.

  “It doesn’t,” I said, wiping my face with water. Because it was easier not having to think of the words in Prexci, I sent,

  You know I’m not trained, right? Bridge or not, I can’t actually do anything. I’m not even a Level 1 infiltrator yet.

  Her eyes sharpened again. I know what you can do, Bridge.

  I found my
self remembering earlier that day, what I’d done to Maygar.

  Yeah, so maybe it was unconvincing, me saying I couldn’t do much...today, at least. But the reality was, I couldn’t control the telekinesis either, or even evoke it at will. The Maygar thing had been dumb luck brought on by sheer, mind-numbing panic when I realized he really wasn’t going to stop. If I’d managed to keep myself in denial for the duration of his attack, I probably would have just lain there, helpless.

  For the first time, it occurred to me that I may have killed him.

  Ironically, even in the middle of all that, I’d hesitated before calling Revik.

  I’d been worried he would overreact.

  Tarsi clasped her hands in her lap. Her mind felt incredibly still to me, but her eyes held emotion when she turned.

  This business with the children. She met my gaze, refolding her gnarled hands. It’s a bad business, Bridge.

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “It’s horrible...”

  She clicked softly, shaking her head as if I’d missed her point.

  Events are accelerating, she sent. Too many players are involved to see them all clearly anymore. She clicked again, softer. The Broken One...I fear he is dabbling in things he cannot control. But he is not the only one. These things have lives of their own...

  She gave me a meaningful look.

  ...Unintended consequences.

  “You mean the war with China and the United States?” I trailed when she gestured another negative with her hand. “Then what?”

  You are missing things, Alyson. There is still much you do not know about the Displacement...about the forces behind it. And yet you know more than you realize. That book you found...the diary. Have you read it all yet?

  “No.” I lowered the mug halfway into the water, frowning. “And how did you know about that? My own people don’t know I found that...” When she didn’t answer, I tried to think. This is about those kids? You think Terian has something to do with what happened in Sikkim? Because I would have thought he’d be more into eliminating humans...not killing a bunch of seer kids.