The Defector

by J. C. Andrijeski

  Revik hesitated on that unblinking stare, startled by the depth of feeling he saw there.

  He didn’t know what it meant.

  He honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  Taking another drink of water, he looked back up at the night sky, swallowing as he tried to push that from his mind, as well.

  They didn’t have to wait long.

  Fifteen minutes ended up being conservative, despite the distance Revik felt between them and Balidor’s main camp, back when Revik first looked for them.

  Either Balidor and his people were already on the move when Balidor sent advance notice of his arrival––or they navigated their way through the dark jungle a hell of a lot faster than Revik could have imagined.

  Revik could feel by then that the Org extraction team had halted, as well.

  He didn’t let himself dwell on how those two events likely tied together.

  When Balidor entered the clearing he didn’t hesitate, but walked directly up to Revik. The Adhipan leader approached him so surely, it might have been broad daylight, not pitch black under the jungle leaves and branches.

  Once Balidor stood over him, he spoke aloud, seemingly to the entire group.

  “Galaith has agreed to a parlay,” he announced.

  Revik’s eyes and light twitched towards the periphery of their circle, feeling Zula and Tobe out there, along with four other seers whose names he had never learned, but whose lights he recognized from the planning camp outside of Guoreum, and from the Adhipan construct more generally. At least one of them was part of his protective detail from the Barrier.

  “…Galaith has a stipulation,” Balidor said, at the end of his long pause. His eyes swiveled back to Revik. “He will only deal with you, brother.”

  Revik just sat there, on his pack, looking up at him.

  He wasn’t surprised by the Adhipan leader’s words.

  Frankly, he didn’t know why anyone would be.

  Regardless, he felt the seers in his unit staring at him.

  He also felt them talking amongst themselves, just outside his hearing.

  He felt those whispers more strongly from some in the group than others, but the overall feeling was more or less consistent, at least from those in Yumi’s unit. They considered him one of theirs now. They’d seen him collapse in the road outside Guoreum. They’d risked their lives, been shot at, carried him for miles, all to save his life.

  They thought this was a trap. They didn’t want him to do it.

  They wanted him to say no.

  In all of that, Revik felt Dalejem especially strongly. The other male wished an amplified version of that hard “no” at him so strongly, Revik had to disentangle himself from the other seer’s light, and from the imperative behind it, to even see his own thoughts. After he’d more or less succeeded in doing that, he still struggled to think logically about Balidor’s request.

  He could see what his unit saw.

  He could see the lack of transparency there, in the Rooks’ light. He could feel the duplicitousness of it… and especially of Galaith.

  They could see a teacher who craved contact with his former student.

  They didn’t like it. They didn’t like it at all.

  Truthfully, Revik didn’t like it, either.

  Again, however, he already more or less knew what he’d do.

  “Yes,” he said.

  He didn’t realize he’d been staring at the ground when he said it, not until he looked up, meeting Balidor’s gaze, which he could only just see in his adjusted night vision.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “All right.”

  He felt a stab of angry light at him, and turned his head, seeing Dalejem standing there. His aleimi picked out more details than his eyes, feeling the Dalejem’s arms taut at his sides, his hands clenched into fists where they rested on his gun belt. Revik felt another pulse of anger from the other seer and winced, in spite of himself.

  I’m sorry, he sent to him quietly.

  The other only sent another plume of anger.

  “I’m going,” Dalejem said aloud to Balidor, his voice cold. “If you’re bringing him to them, like a sacrificial-fucking lamb, then I’m going, too.”

  Balidor gave him a long-seeming stare, then nodded.

  “Agreed.”

  The Adhipan leader looked around at the rest of the group, his expression unmoving. His living light didn’t so much as ripple from what Revik could feel.

  “We can take seven, including Dehgoies,” Balidor announced, still looking around. “That leaves spots for four more. Volunteers?”

  “Me,” Vikram said, surprising Revik.

  He glanced at the Indian-looking seer, who smiled at him from the dark. The seer’s white teeth shone at him, strangely reassuring.

  Then next voice that spoke surprised Revik even more.

  “Me,” Mara said, stepping forward. “I will go.”

  “Me, as well,” Yumi said.

  “I will go, too,” Dalai added.

  Balidor nodded, looking around at all of them.

  “That is seven.” He looked back at Revik. For the first time, his light exuded a faint worry, even as he adjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “No packs,” he said, his voice still expressionless. “We leave now.” He looked at Garensche. “You are in charge of the remainder of the group out here, brother. My people, too. I would like all of you to stay here, in roughly this area, until we come back. Use sentries. And be ready to move, if I call for reinforcement.”

  The big seer nodded, glancing at Revik.

  Revik felt worry ripple off his light, too.

  It occurred to him only then that at least half of the seers here didn’t expect him to come back from this––not alive, anyway.

  The other half seemed to think he would at least come back damaged.

  Swallowing, Revik found himself standing with the small group of volunteers, arranging the gun strapped around his shoulder not unlike Balidor had just done, but more in a kind of nervous patterning than out of any real need. He was still standing there when his self-appointed personal guard and Balidor started to move, aiming for the opening between the trees to the south of where they now stood, so back in the direction they’d already walked.

  Only Dalejem stopped beside him.

  Before Revik realized what he intended, the seer formed an aleimic link, just the two of them. As he did it, he shielded them, pushing the rest of the seers’ lights out.

  You don’t have to do this, he sent. Dalejem barely paused before his light grew fainter, becoming the barest trace of a whisper. Don’t do it, Revik. Please. We’ll find another way.

  Revik felt a strange jolt in his chest.

  He realized it was because Dalejem had used his given name.

  He looked at him, and found the other male wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  I have to, Revik sent simply.

  Why? Dalejem demanded, his light sparking with anger. Why do you have to?

  Revik sighed, clicking softly. Because Balidor wouldn’t have brought this to me, if there was another way.

  He didn’t say the other thing he thought––what he felt, without knowing how he felt it.

  Kali was having her baby.

  Revik felt Dalejem frown, and sent him a pulse of warmth.

  Don’t worry, brother, he sent. It’ll be all right. I have all of you there with me. We aren’t going in blind.

  Dalejem didn’t answer.

  When the green-eyed seer moved away an instant later, severing the link between them and stepping deliberately out of Revik’s light, Revik felt his chest tighten again, for a different reason that time.

  Still, he managed to keep it off his expression.

  Gripping the rifle he wore, he followed the small group leading him silently into the gap between the trees. By the time he’d more or less caught up with Dalejem and the others, his mind was mostly blank, focused on the sounds and smells of the jungle.

 
; He barely noticed as Vikram and Dalai took up position behind him.

  Fifteen

  Parlay

  Revik felt the panic start in his chest before they were halfway there.

  It worsened exponentially as they approached the edges of the mobile construct of the Org extraction team.

  He was remembering now, viscerally, nearly physically, what Guoreum had done to him, like an animal remembers being burnt in a fire. It flipped a panic switch in the back of his mind, causing his heart rate to speed up, his breathing to tighten.

  They were still at least a hundred yards from the clearing Balidor told them about, but Revik could already feel them.

  He felt the Org pod up there, waiting for them.

  Waiting for him.

  No one in Revik’s group apart from Balidor had spoken a word since they left the others––at least, not where Revik could hear it. He couldn’t recall a single whisper of speech or meaning for at least the past half-hour, not even inside the construct, not even directed at someone other than him.

  Balidor briefed them on their way back down the hill, mainly using nonverbal, packed intel inside the construct.

  After that, silence descended over their group.

  Revik felt a keening kind of nausea in his belly the closer they got to the rendezvous, one that––for once––had absolutely nothing to do with separation pain.

  It was fear.

  Pure, unbridled fear.

  He felt the seers around him reacting to that fear, drawing closer to him, but it didn’t really help mitigate the fear itself. Revik started to worry that he wouldn’t be able to handle this, that he might freak out for real, even apart from what the construct might do to him when he crossed that line––

  Brother, a voice spoke gently into his mind. Calm yourself. There is more than just me protecting you out here.

  Revik jumped a little, glancing to his right.

  He found Balidor walking beside him, watching him through the dark.

  The older seer smiled at him reassuringly, glancing briefly at Dalejem as he walked.

  I know you only said it to calm your friend, the Adhipan leader added. But you spoke truth to him just now. We won’t let anything happen to you, brother Revik. I promise you.

  Smiling broader at Revik’s frown, Balidor added humorously,

  Vash would skin me, for one… not to mention what your aunt would do to me. Trust me when I say this. You will be all right. I will make sure of it. So will those aiding us. So will Kali. She has her people aiding in this, as well.

  It’s not you I don’t trust, Revik began, knowing his panic was spilling out over into his thoughts, but unable to pull it back. It’s not any of you I don’t trust. It’s me. I can’t handle this. I dropped like a dead person outside of Guoreum. You saw it––

  That was my fault, brother Revik.

  No, Revik sent, exasperated. It wasn’t––

  Yes. It was.

  Balidor’s mental voice grew an edge, but it didn’t feel aimed at Revik.

  That was a mistake I haven’t come close to apologizing for deeply enough, brother, Balidor added grimly. ...and likely never will. I am truly sorry, Revik. That was completely and utterly my fault.

  It really wasn’t though, Revik sent, unable to let it go. It wasn’t your fault––

  It was, Balidor cut in, looking at him through the dark. It was entirely my fault, brother Revik, and trust me, I do not speak only my own opinion in saying it. I thought your Aunt Tarsi would fire me as head of the Adhipan for what I did there… if she did not have me banished from the Pamir altogether.

  The thought brought Revik’s mind to a brief halt.

  Fired from the Adhipan?

  Was that even possible? Or just a term of speech?

  Balidor surprised him, chuckling in the recesses of Revik’s mind.

  Oh, it’s possible, brother. Believe me. Tarsi might have had to persuade Vash, if that had been her decision, since he is the official head of the Council of Seven. But truthfully, I don’t think that would have been overly difficult to do. Vash was as angry with me as she was, even if he expressed that anger far less explosively than your aunt.

  Revik didn’t answer, not directly.

  Even so, Balidor’s words that time surprised him even more.

  Vash… angry? He couldn’t even imagine Vash angry.

  He’d assumed the Adhipan leader had been teasing him when he joked about Vash skinning him or even berating him, especially out here.

  Balidor chuckled again, softer.

  Before Revik could think of a response––

  His aleimi lit up violently, bringing his nausea up in a harsh wave.

  His breath stopped abruptly in his chest, so hard, he almost choked on it.

  It only occurred to him a few seconds later that Balidor had been distracting him.

  They had reached the edge of the Org construct.

  Before Revik could even think about halting the forward motion of his body, or even slowing his feet as his living light screamed in protest––

  He had crossed that line into the Pyramid’s wave.

  He didn’t feel it as strongly that time.

  The light around him shifted.

  He felt that line, yes… but he felt his connection to Balidor more.

  He felt his connection to the rest of the seers who more or less encircled him now, too. He glanced around in near-wonder as he felt them protecting him on all sides, their lights hardening into dense, nearly opaque shields that cushioned his light, forming a solid barrier between Revik and the structured, fast-moving, metallic light of the Org.

  Feeling that wall, Revik forced himself to breathe.

  He kept walking, breathing more regularly again as he adjusted to the shift.

  As they approached the clearing he could feel up ahead in the jungle––a clearing he felt only via the aleimi of the seers around him––an actual, physical light ignited between the trees.

  As it did, Revik realized they were even closer than he’d realized.

  He recognized the peculiar, greenish-yellow glow of multiple organic yisso torches even as he watched Balidor enter the last row of trees before the clearing itself.

  Dalejem and Yumi followed without hesitation.

  Leaving Revik to be the one to hesitate, right at that edge, even as he felt a flush of warmth and reassurance from Vikram and Dalai, who walked directly behind him.

  It’s okay, brother, Vikram told him softly. It’s not only Balidor and the Council. We won’t let those endruk et dugra bastards touch you, either.

  Revik glanced back, even as he saw Dalai nod, gesturing her agreement with Vikram emphatically with one hand.

  It hit Revik again that they felt responsible for him.

  However it was they actually felt about him, or what he’d once been, they felt responsible for him now. They’d adopted him as one of their own.

  The thought touched him.

  It touched him more than he could fully feel at first, even without knowing exactly what it meant.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to move forward. He walked, blinking, holding a hand up to the light, into the lit clearing behind Balidor and the others.

  For a moment, a scarce instant, it felt as if he’d been transported into another world.

  Maybe a whole other version of himself.

  It was one he’d rather have forgotten, frankly.

  After the barest pause, he walked out past the others, into the center of the clearing.

  He did it partly to prove to himself he could.

  He did it partly out of posturing.

  He did it partly to normalize this in some way.

  He was supposed to be the emissary, after all.

  Something about being inside an honest-to-gods Org construct and still on his feet––of being cocooned from all but the barest tastes of that Dreng-soaked light––turned off the panic switch that nearly incapacitated him when he stood outside those co
nstruct walls.

  It flipped him into pure infiltrator mode instead.

  His shoulders straightened, his gait changing into a military, fighter stalk, almost before he realized he’d made the change.

  He felt the seers around him react to that change––meaning those on his side.

  Some, like Balidor, reacted with pure relief.

  Revik felt flickers of other reactions, too––everything from surprise to a faint unease as they adjusted to this other side of him, and of his light.

  During the debrief down the hill, Balidor informed Revik of the basic strategy. He’d asked Revik’s opinion of that strategy, given his familiarity with how the Org operated, but Revik hadn’t had a whole lot to contribute, really.

  It was clear Balidor understood the Rooks well.

  Moreover, the Adhipan’s intelligence was good. It was scary good––although Revik had to remind himself that he, meaning Revik himself, wouldn’t remember anything truly sensitive about the way the Org functioned anyway.

  Balidor’s instructions were specific, down to how he wanted Revik to stand.

  He asked Revik to show no visible signs of weakness if he could help it, in the event the temptation might prove too much for the Org pod. He instructed Revik to ignore any hits at his aleimi, to let Balidor and his protection detail handle that end of things. He warned Revik to stay out of his emotions and reactions as much as he could.

  Balidor told him that he would stand in front, as emissary, just as Galaith requested.

  Revik would hold onto his guns, but not hold any in his hands.

  Remembering all of that now, Revik entered the clearing with his rifle slung behind his back, his handguns in their holsters. He kept his hands visible, to emphasize the fact that they were empty, even as he found himself sliding into even more of a fighter’s walk as he approached the line of Org infiltrators.

  That was habit, too, he supposed.

  His mind remained more or less blank after he broke the circle of light that bled into the jungle trees from the two yisso torches. He could see now that each of those torches was held by a separate Org agent, one female and one male. The torch-bearing agents stood on either side of the ring of trees, so that most of the area was lit, along with every face.