Allie's War Season Three

by JC Andrijeski

  Wreg's eyes were glazed, holding an overt pain as he looked at Jon.

  "We both need clothes now," Jon managed, leaning his head against Wreg's shoulder. "Can you call someone?" Another pain hit his light then, enough to close his eyes. "Fuck...Wreg. I feel so not ready for this..."

  Raising his head, he looked into the seer's face, even as he felt another pull of that aggression in his own light.

  "I want to go upstairs," he told him. "I want to fuck again...my whole body hurts..." Seeing and feeling the pain rise abruptly in the other man's light, Jon shook his head.

  "We shouldn't,” he said. “I mean now, Wreg...we really shouldn't. Let's give it a few days at least...a week if we're being even remotely responsible..." Sighing a bit, almost in defeat, Jon added, "If nothing else, we need to give your shoulder time to heal. From what Allie told me, it would be pretty easy for us to hurt each other as it is..." He shrugged, using his mutilated hand almost without noticing he did it. "...It'll give us time to warn the others, too. Set up some kind of backup system until we come up for air..."

  Wreg looked at him, his eyes holding understanding, even as he seemed to be battling with another influx of pain. Clenching his jaw, he just nodded, and Jon saw his eyes blur...the irises at least...and knew he'd gone into the Barrier.

  He was out a second later, and glanced down at Jon's clothes.

  "I asked the concierge. About bringing us clothes. We'll get enough shit from the rest of those assholes as it is," he grunted. Still avoiding Jon's eyes, he added, "I gave him our rough sizes, but I had to guess..."

  When Jon continued to watch his face, Wreg turned. His dark eyes were almost sharp again, holding a scrutiny that made him look like the high-ranked infiltrator he was.

  "...Are you agreeing to me, Jon?" he said. Wreg’s voice held the same no-bullshit tone as his eyes. "I need you to be clear about this, brother. It's okay if you're not...or if you're not sure yet...but I need you to tell me, now, where you are with this."

  Jon nodded. He leaned back, resting his weight on the cushion behind the table.

  "I am," he said. "...Agreeing, I mean. I won't lie...the whole idea of it scares the shit out of me. But it's what my light wants. I'm not sure I could fight that, even if I wanted to..." Hesitating, he raised his eyes to look at the other's face. "...Allie told me these kinds of connections are always two ways. She said it doesn't really matter who initiates it on the outside. That the connections themselves, meaning the energetic side of things, can only happen if both people want it." Jon paused. "...Is that how you understand it, too?"

  Wreg nodded. A stunned look had come to his eyes, though, one that didn't seem overly connected to the movement of his head.

  Jon nodded back, almost to himself.

  "Well. So yeah..." he said, sighing as he laid a hand on Wreg's thigh. "...Then I 'agree,' if that isn't already a moot point. I just don't want to be stupid about it, you know? There's too much going on right now. They need you, Wreg."

  Wreg stared at him. Jon felt pain on the other seer, worsening as his shock faded.

  Then Wreg let out a half-humorous snort, if a bit belatedly.

  "They need me?" Wreg said, rolling his eyes. "Little brother...I don't even register on the map compared to you, not anymore. I don't have 'command' written by my name on those lists. I'm not supposed to single-handedly bring the human soldiers to their full potential..." Smiling a little at Jon's teeth-gritted look, Wreg gripped the collar of Jon’s shirt. "You'd better let me find somewhere else to sleep tonight, brother...I mean it."

  Jon shook his head. "Take the suite. My stuff's not moved yet. I can crash in my old room for now." He hesitated, feeling nerves vibrate his light. "Do you want me to tell Allie and Revik?"

  Wreg rolled his eyes, smiling still. The smile seemed to exude from his very light now, Jon noticed. "I'm reasonably sure they already know,” Wreg said. “But you can tell them formally, if you want. I can feel Nenz at the bar still. I don't know where your sister is..." Frowning a bit, he added, "...Neither does Nenz. It's bugging him, actually..."

  Jon nodded. "Yeah. I know."

  He glanced over his shoulder then, feeling a warning ping, right before Wreg answered it with his light. The door to their private room opened then, quickly enough that Jon found himself pulling himself clumsily to his feet, attempting to salvage some semblance of dignity, despite how they must look. Seeing the male seer standing there, holding a stack of men's clothes, including what looked like brand-new underwear, didn’t help. Jon felt his face grow hot, even as he grew momentarily grateful for the dim lighting of the room.

  The concierge set the pile on the table, along with a cloth bag that he indicated with polite hand gestures should be used with their soiled clothes and anything else they wanted washed.

  Gesturing a polite response and a thank you, Wreg chuckled a bit when the seer spared a grin at him, lifting one eyebrow in Jon's direction.

  Winking at Wreg, he sent him a pulse of light before he turned on his heel to leave the room. Fighting a more aggressive reaction, Jon gave Wreg a quizzical look, after the man shut the door.

  Wreg must have felt the other, though, because he gave Jon a careful look.

  "Do not worry, brother. I know him," he explained. "A bunch of us have a rik-jum game, every second Tuesday. He owes me a shitload of money...that's why I asked him. I knew he would not mind." Wreg was on his feet again, too. Watching Jon's face, his eyes still careful, Wreg slid a hand around Jon's shoulder, rubbing him there gently, as if he'd noticed the muscles that had grown taut from the interruption...and, well, from more than that, if Jon were being fully honest with himself. After a few more seconds of Wreg’s light and hands, Jon felt his body giving in, even as his eyes closed.

  "Sorry," he said, not meeting Wreg's gaze.

  "He knows about us," Wreg told him reassuringly. "Do not worry, brother. He knew before...a lot of the seers did. The look was him congratulating me...not flirting. That rik-jum game was pure compassion on their part. They did it to help distract me...and to give me an excuse to get drunk..." Gesturing towards the door with one hand, he grunted in vague embarrassment. "I drove everyone crazy back then. They probably let me win at cards, too."

  Jon nodded, trying to get the words to make sense to him. They did, to his mind, anyway, but he could still feel that part of his light struggling. To distract himself, he walked out from under Wreg's hand and to the stack of clothes.

  Pulling the smaller of the two sets off the pile, he tossed them down on the set of cushions across from where Wreg had been sitting. Without glancing at Wreg, he tugged his soiled shirt over his head, conscious suddenly of how badly he needed a shower. He wished he'd thought to ask Wreg to tell them to bring him socks, too, then realized he saw some in the pile, next to the underwear. Sighing a bit in relief, he bent down to unhook the clasps of the organic military-grade boots, his belt and pants already half undone. He got the first boot off before he realized Wreg hadn't moved to start changing his own clothes. When he glanced up, Wreg's eyes were on him instead. He was shielding his light, so Jon hadn't felt him, but pain eclipsed the normal expression on the seer's face.

  "Jesus, Wreg," Jon laughed. "Pull it together, man. We're going out in public."

  Wreg crossed the room before he finished speaking, moving before Jon managed to unbuckle the straps on the second boot. When he grabbed hold of Jon, it nearly made him fall, right before Jon straightened to stare the seer full in the face. Wreg coiled an arm around his waist, holding them lightly together, and Jon found himself conscious of the other man's body again.

  "Hey," Jon said, swallowing. "We just talked about this, right?" Feeling his light react sharply when he felt the other man's erection, he fought to pull away. "Didn't we just talk about this? Cut it out, man...seriously. I can't deal with this right now..."

  But Wreg barely seemed to hear him. His dark eyes studied Jon's face, as if oblivious to the pain coming off both of them.

  "This is
permanent, Jon. You understand that, right?" Swallowing when Jon looked up at his words, Wreg made a vague gesture with the hand not holding Jon's bare back. "...This is not me being rational," he added. "I love you...I don't want you to regret this. I don't want you to agree to something that you might view as harm later. I want to make sure you understand what this means. It won't be like any relationship you've had before..."

  His words cut off when Jon gripped him tightly around the back. He held him tighter when Wreg closed his eyes, sending the taller seer a harder, more deliberate pulse. Wrapping his arms around Wreg's body, Jon found himself fighting to control his light again.

  "I know it's permanent," Jon said. "I know that, I really do. But honestly, that is such an impossible idea to me, I can only go with what I know right now." He hesitated, swallowing as he tried to smile. "At this point, I'm just really hoping you aren't actually multiple-personality guy, like my sister's husband...or some kind of closet sociopath..."

  Wreg smiled, even as his light grew softer. Something in it grew sadder, too.

  "There's still a lot you don't know about me, brother," he said.

  Jon sighed, nodding. Remembering the glimpses he'd gotten of the rebel base, as well as things Allie had told him, both about the last rebellion and the one that happened during World War I, he nodded again, feeling his chest constrict a little.

  "Yeah.” He shrugged lightly, without moving away from where he leaned on Wreg. "Do you want me to know more? Before we do this, I mean?"

  Wreg hesitated, and Jon felt the other seer's light on his again, maybe even scanning him.

  After another pause, Wreg nodded, as if making up his mind.

  "I think so, yes,” he said. His voice held a thread of nerves, but Jon didn’t hear any avoidance there. “…I think you should know a few things. Before we go into the sex thing, I think. I would rather you see me clearly, Jon. Or as much as possible, anyway...given the number of years I’d have to relate for you to get a complete picture..." He hesitated, shrugging again. "It is tradition, to interview others, even. You could speak to Tarsi...and Nenz. There are others in the rebels who would know more, too. I will give you names, if you like. Most of them would be happy to share memories with you. You have the right to ask that, as well...for Barrier views of my past, if you like..."

  He sounded worried that time, but Jon only nodded, feeling his shoulders relax a little.

  "Okay. Yeah, man."

  That worry intensified briefly in Wreg's light.

  He seemed about to say one thing, then abruptly changed his mind. "So what do we tell the others, then?" Wreg said instead. "Should we wait on that, as well?"

  Jon sent him reassurance, even as he opened his own light more. "We still have to tell them something, Wreg," he said, sighing. "We've got to warn them. You get that, right? If you start telling me things about yourself and I can't handle it, and need to wait on the rest...they'll understand." Sighing again, he shrugged with his hand before adding, "If we don't tell them, and you tell me things about yourself and it brings us closer...close enough that we start having sex again...as in disappear for weeks, having sex...it's going to complicate their lives. A lot."

  Wreg nodded, relaxing. "Fair, yes. You are right."

  Jon extracted himself gently from the seer's arms.

  "So we tell them," he said, his voice more decisive than he really felt. Sighing a bit, he picked the clean shirt up off the table where he'd left it, and pulled it over his head, still conscious of the other's eyes on him.

  Wreg only nodded to his words, his face impassive, but Jon noticed he didn't move, either, watching Jon from only a few feet away as he finished taking off his old clothes and putting on the new ones.

  Wreg didn't avert his gaze the whole time Jon changed, but watched him, his face unreadable, even when Jon peeled off the old socks with a grimace and put on the new ones, stuffing his feet back into the mud-encrusted combat boots. He felt better. He still wanted a shower almost desperately, but he definitely felt better.

  Wreg didn't start to pull off his own shirt, removing his belt to transfer to the new pants, until Jon was already stuffing his dirty clothes into the cloth bag the concierge seer had left behind. Jon still felt the seer's eyes on him, his light unreadable where it coiled around Jon's own. The ex-rebel wore a cloak that Jon had never felt on him before, one that covered Wreg's aleimi almost totally, even as it held onto Jon's as if his life depended on it.

  It crossed Jon's mind that maybe it actually did.

  But he couldn't really think about that yet, either.

  13

  UNVEILINGS

  I GOT TO the bar a lot later than I'd planned.

  I went over most of the transcripts of Balidor’s interviews with Ditrini, not long after I got out of Ditrini’s cell, but frankly, it wasn’t all that helpful, even with Tenzi, Garend and Anale there to press for details.

  I tried contacting Tarsi, too, to get her opinion on the thing with my light, but unfortunately, she wasn’t available. I wasn’t sure exactly where she was, but the impression I got from one of her attendants was that she might be in some kind of extended Barrier-state, like a meditation or a trance. Either way, I wouldn’t be able to ask her anything until she came out, and it sounded like that would be a few more days, at least.

  I'd almost been tempted to go in and try to talk to Ditrini again, see if we could up his dosage of hallucinogens enough to get anything more from him, not only on me but on whatever he might know about Shadow's plans for Beijing...or New York, for that matter.

  That was about when I felt the next questioning ping from Revik.

  Instead of trying to explain what I'd been doing, I found myself answering him pretty abruptly, and ending the conversation before he could feel much off me. I wasn't about to lob my worries about Ditrini having screwed up my aleimi somehow, much less the fact that it might have something to do with Balidor’s fears around Shadow having a presence in New York, not long-distance anyway, not when I knew what Revik’s probable reaction would be that I'd gone in to speak to Ditrini at all. I knew he and Balidor were still concerned that I was too connected to the Lao Hu anyway, and that this kind of thing would only make it worse.

  I also knew under normal circumstances, that caution would be more than warranted.

  But these weren’t normal circumstances, and I was feeling the ticking clock over my head again, in more ways than one. Besides, we didn't have a lot of proprietary information left at this point, from what I could tell. Apart from the contents of the lists themselves, I was pretty sure most of what we had, had made its way to Shadow already. I couldn't even be sure about the lists, truthfully, but Balidor and Wreg seemed confident that Shadow didn't have a copy, mostly because the assassination attempts so far only occurred when we approached specific people.

  Which made me wonder, again, who put those lists in the bank vault in the first place.

  If it had been Shadow, or Menlim, or anyone connected to the Dreng, I would have thought they'd have a copy already.

  There were other things I found myself contemplating, too, now that I’d seen everything Balidor got from Ditrini before I showed up. Even things like a potential alliance with the Lao Hu ran through my mind, despite the fact that my past alliances with the Tiger People hadn’t exactly panned out all that well. I knew Balidor likely only said it to rile up Ditrini, anyway, but part of me wasn’t totally convinced we shouldn't offer them help, given that both Ditrini and Shadow had clearly turned on the Lao Hu already.

  Anyway, it was an awfully large population of seers to just let die out there...whatever personal issues I might have with their leader, Voi Pai.

  But yeah, I wasn't about to try and explain all of my reasoning on that to Revik long distance, either.

  I could tell my absence was stressing Revik out, though, and that I’d pushed my luck on that front already. I couldn’t feel specifics, but flavors reached me through the connection we shared, frequently enough that I knew
it was more about me than Jon at this point. So after leaving instructions for Balidor with Tenzi, Garend and Anale, I headed upstairs pretty quickly once I decided I was done, that I needed to pull in the others before going any further.

  I knew Revik would be mad that I’d talked to Ditrini.

  On the other hand, I also knew him well enough to know that his tactical side always outweighed emotion at times like this...even when he didn't like it. He would probably even agree with my reasons for speaking to Ditrini, even if he didn't like that, either. I was at a point where I wanted his input though, so I was anxious to talk to him.

  I still wasn’t looking forward to his reaction when I first laid it on him.

  Regardless, I found myself looking for him pretty much the second I'd walked through the entrance of Park Place South. I started to feel for him with my light, too, long before I'd gotten past the horseshoe-shaped fish tank that wound in the direction of the main bar, and now appeared to be full of trout and red snapper. I'd forgotten how dark the bar could get, too, and how loud it could get, especially with the traditional seer music and its heavy percussion thumping in the background.

  Once I passed the end of the curved tank, I immediately saw a group of seers clustered around one end of the hardwood bar that took up most of the longest wall. The game fish floating in the bar tanks made mottled patterns over faces, bodies and clothes; it made it difficult to identify anyone at first, since I was reluctant to use my light on anyone I couldn’t see, due to the whole Jon and Wreg thing. I started walking over there, anyway, figuring that had to be my group, since they constituted something like ninety-percent of the daytime patronage.

  When I got a few yards closer, though, shock hit my light as I realized Jon and Wreg stood in the very center of that group.