Allie's War Early Years

by JC Andrijeski

  Still, the seer in front of him was one of the few Revik grudgingly trusted.

  “Just come with me, brother,” Dalejem said, smiling as he glanced over his shoulder at him. “I’m not bringing you out here to shoot you, I promise.”

  “Then what is this?”

  Revik heard the wariness in his own voice, but couldn’t hide that, either.

  Clearly hearing it as well, Dalejem came to a stop, exhaling in a sort of amused exasperation, his hands on his hips as he turned to face Revik directly.

  “Are you always this paranoid, brother?” he said.

  Revik thought about that, too. Stopping when Dalejem did, he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of one hand.

  “Yes,” he said after another pause.

  Dalejem laughed aloud at that, shaking his head.

  The long dark, brown and black hair he wore wound around a clip had come down in pieces since they’d left the camp. Revik found himself looking at where it stuck to the male’s neck, even as the other clicked at him in mock-reproach.

  “It is a wonder they call the Org a ‘Brotherhood,’” he said.

  Revik thought about that, too, feeling the truth behind his words.

  He’d noticed a number of those types of ironies with the Org, now that he was outside the Pyramid’s construct and could see them more clearly. Before he could come up with a reply, however, Dalejem had turned again, hitching the heavy bag up higher on his back and then sliding a machete out of his belt with a scraping sound.

  Revik eyed it warily until Dalejem swung it to clear their path, hacking at vines that covered what appeared to be some kind of light game trail.

  “A hint, brother,” Revik said. “Some indication.”

  Dalejem laughed again, but didn’t turn, or stop swinging the machete.

  “I wanted to bring you somewhere we wouldn’t be overheard,” Dalejem said. “No one else was offering, but they were all wondering, so I volunteered.”

  Revik came to a dead stop at that, fighting his way through the other’s words, but Dalejem kept walking that time, only glancing back at him long enough to chuckle.

  “Gods. You weren’t kidding about the paranoia.”

  Revik only stood there, watching him.

  He continued to watch as Dalejem moved away.

  Realizing the other wasn’t going to wait for him that time, Revik turned possibilities over in his mind, even as it occurred to him that some part of his light had reacted inappropriately to the other’s words, too. He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to hide any one of his reactions for long, but after a few more seconds’ hesitation, he shook his head, clicking at himself that time in irritation, embarrassment and a number of other emotions he might not have been able to put easily into words, right before he began walking again––faster, that time––to close the distance between himself and the other seer.

  He ignored the faintly puzzled pulse that came off Dalejem that time.

  When they had been walking for another ten or so minutes, Dalejem led him to the edge of a wide clearing in the jungle, one that opened up onto marshy grasses and blue skies so suddenly that Revik came to another abrupt halt, receding back into the trees as he held up a hand to shield his face from the sun. He glanced over as Dalejem yanked the strap from around his shoulder and head, and dumped the heavy black bag on the jungle floor.

  Standing out in the open, his hands on his hips once more, Dalejem clicked at him softly when Revik lowered his hand.

  “Gods,” the other said, his voice still holding that friendliness. “You really are paranoid. Who do you think might shoot at us out here?”

  “Humans,” Revik said at once. “A routine outer patrol sent by the camp’s guards. A SCARB scouting party, if they already felt us out here...”

  Clicking softly, Dalejem seemed to give in, although Revik could feel the near eye-roll in his light as Dalejem placed his hands on his hips, surveying the surrounding hills.

  “They cannot penetrate Balidor’s shield,” Dalejem said then. He turned, walking back the way he had come and out of the tall grasses, reaching the place where Revik stood in the relatively greater protection of the tree line. “It is all right, brother. I promise.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Revik said, his voice holding an edge.

  “Of course you are,” Dalejem said, matter-of-fact. “With good reason, brother. You are a traitor to them, are you not?”

  Revik looked at Dalejem directly at that.

  Despite the fact that the other seer stood in the shade of the palm trees, along with a handful of Brazil nuts and floss silks, sparks of sunlight found Dalejem’s green eyes, illuminating their color as well as the slightly darker ring of violet around each iris.

  “I am a traitor to a lot of people,” Revik answered, refusing to look away.

  Dalejem smiled at that, too, then laid a hand cautiously on his arm.

  “Did you bring your own gun?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

  Revik blinked.

  Then, nodding, he reached for the holster under his left arm, pulling out the Glock-17 Balidor had given him. He started to hand it to the other seer, still moving cautiously, but Dalejem waved him off.

  “No, no,” he said, clicking softly. “We’ll start with that. Presumably, you know how it works, if you’re carrying it.”

  He stepped out of the way, then, opening up Revik’s view of the field that stood before them. Revik realized only then that the “field” itself was likely a product of deforestation. He wondered if it had been done to expand cattle grazing, or for some other reason.

  He could see no cattle on it now.

  He was about to ask Dalejem again, what the hell they were doing out here, when Dalejem spoke to him before he could, using a sharper, more business-like tone.

  “Pick a target,” he said. “One hundred feet. Mark it to me verbally before you try for it...”

  “What is this, brother? What are you––”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Dalejem said, his voice puzzled now. “I’m trying to see if you can shoot. We’re going on a live op tomorrow. You’ve been in a cave for five years, brother... learning not to kill things. We need to know if we can depend on you.”

  Revik blinked at him.

  Then, putting together the rest of what the other had said to him earlier, he let out an involuntary laugh.

  “Are you offended?” Dalejem said, his lips pursing slightly.

  “No.” Revik shook his head, raising the gun to more or less shoulder height. “No, brother. I’m not offended. Do you want a moving target? Or stationary?”

  “Stationary,” Dalejem said. He gave Revik’s light a rebuking nudge. “Did you think I brought you out here to harm defenseless birds, brother?”

  “No,” Revik said. “But maybe to bring back dinner.”

  Dalejem clicked at him again, but Revik heard amusement there that time.

  He felt the tension dissipate more from his own light.

  “Do you have a target yet? You are very slow,” Dalejem said, his voice holding a more openly teasing rebuke.

  “I have one. I was waiting for instructions, brother.”

  “Instructions you already received.”

  Revik rolled his eyes in exaggerated seer-fashion. “The white leaf there. The big one, on the small cashew tree nearest.”

  “That’s not a cashew,” Dalejem said, squinting.

  “Yes, it is.”

  Dalejem raised a hand, shielding his eyes. “Okay, so it is.”

  “Do you want me to shoot?”

  “Will it get you to stop talking?”

  Revik let out a snort, then used his light and eyes to aim. Without belaboring it, he squeezed off a shot, flinching a bit from the echo of the report, in spite of what Dalejem had said.

  “Satisfied?” Revik said, lowering the gun.

  “Not yet,” Dalejem said.

  He walked out into the open field, even though Revik tensed as soon as the
other seer left the protection of the trees. Revik remained where he was, holding the gun, knowing he was covering the other male, although Dalejem hadn’t asked him to do that, either.

  His light snaked out over the field, too, examining the nearby Barrier space for anyone who might be watching what they were doing, focusing especially on places where someone might have a clear shot at the two of them. As soon as he looked from his aleimi, however, he felt flavors of Balidor and the others, and realized that he and Dalejem remained inside a protected part of the construct still, that Dalejem had taken him out to one of the edges of it, perhaps, but not outside of it. Following the course of that wall around the camp he’d left with the other male about an hour ago, as well as to the other side of that line...

  Revik let out a gasp, his vision slanting out.

  His vision blurred abruptly, even as his shoulder hit something, hard.

  He had some awareness of a voice, of someone shouting for him, maybe. He felt a wrench in his gut that nearly made him lose consciousness altogether...

  Then he was looking up, blinking into dappled sunlight, his chest compressed into a hard knot. His fingers gripped his own shirt and vest in a sweated fist. He felt nauseous from pain, but he could see again; he could almost move his mind. He realized that some new kind of shield constrained his light, holding it nearer to his body, and felt Balidor in that, along with flavors of the man standing over him, now blocking the sunlight.

  Revik was still looking up, fighting to focus his eyes, when the sound came back on, even as the man fell to his knees in the cluster of tree roots over which Revik lay. As soon as Revik realized that much, he found himself understanding a few more things.

  He was lying on his back, and his back hurt... likely because he’d connected hard with those same tree roots when he hit the ground. He let out another low gasp, fighting to pull his light even closer to his body, when Dalejem laid a hand on his chest, gripping his arm. He flooded Revik’s light with warmth, with his own light, and Revik groaned, writhing out from the other’s touch before he’d made a conscious thought.

  “Fuck,” he gasped. “No. No, goddamn it.”

  Dalejem immediately withdrew his light.

  As if to make his intentions clear, he also raised both of his hands.

  Once he had, he only stared down at Revik, his expression bordering on wary.

  Then Revik’s eyes clicked into focus. He realized he’d closed his light off to the other male entirely, that it wasn’t wariness he saw in the other’s eyes, but something closer to caution... laced with a sympathy that lay even more prominently on the surface.

  “Are you all right?” Dalejem asked.

  Revik realized he continued to clutch his own shirt over the front of his chest. He continued to struggle for breath, too, gasping like he’d been running. He felt light-headed, as well, like his blood was low on sugar, like he’d fainted.

  He had fainted, he realized.

  Fuck.

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t looking at Dalejem now, but down at his own hand, the one holding up his body on one of the exposed, rounded roots of a Brazil nut tree. His hand still gripped the Glock somehow, and it occurred to him the thing was live, and still had ammunition in it. He clicked the trigger safety in rote, setting the thing down on the ground. It was a miracle he hadn’t shot himself. Or Dalejem.

  “Yeah.” He sat up, and stopped again, immediately light-headed. He wiped sweat from his brow, realizing only then that his hand was shaking. “Sorry. Gods.” He looked up at the other male, his voice reluctant. “Are you all right? I didn’t... do anything. Did I?”

  Dalejem gave him one of his thin smiles. “You fell like a stone, brother. Does that count?”

  Revik didn’t answer, but continued to fight to gain control over his light.

  “I should have warned you, brother,” Dalejem said, his voice more gentle. “Balidor connected our construct to her last night.”

  Revik didn’t speak, but felt his body stiffen.

  He fought with the part of himself that wanted to deny that as the cause for what he’d just done, how crazy he was acting, but he couldn’t do that, either.

  Unfortunately, Dalejem didn’t seem willing to let it go so easily.

  “Balidor is right, then? You are fixated on her?” he said, his voice deceptively casual.

  Revik felt his jaw harden more, enough to hurt his face.

  “I’m not trying to embarrass you, brother,” Dalejem said. “But we should talk about this. Balidor had concerns about this with you. So we can either talk about it here, you and I... or you can go back to camp, and Balidor can examine your light himself.”

  Revik glanced up at that, feeling the light in his chest grow dimmer.

  “Is that the real reason you brought me out here?” he said.

  His voice came out cold, and he regretted it almost the moment he said it, but he couldn’t seem to make himself take it back, either.

  Dalejem shook his head. “No, brother.” He paused, still gauging Revik’s face, and seemingly his light now, as well. “Are you not going to talk to me then?”

  Revik stared without seeing at the trunk of the tree, fighting back his emotional reactions, the shame that still wanted to take over his light, the deeper feeling of anger and resentment. Why the fuck hadn’t they left him in that cave? He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t fucking be here, and he’d told them that. But they dragged him out here anyway, and now they wanted to give him shit for not being able to handle it?

  “No one is blaming you, brother,” Dalejem said, quieter. “I am only asking. Do you not want to admit that much? You are fixated.”

  Revik shook his head, but not in a no.

  Dalejem frowned slightly anyway, looking over Revik’s body, and again doing what must have been at least a quick pass over his light.

  “You are not fixated?” Dalejem said.

  Revik exhaled, feeling that anger sharpen in his light, even as he forced his fist to open, for his fingers to release his own shirt. Staring down at where sweat had dampened the front of it from his hand, twisting it into an odd pattern from the intensity of his clutching, he felt that shame twist deeper in his gut, even as he forced himself to speak.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what it is.”

  “You have been fixated before?”

  Revik looked up at him, biting his own tongue, hard enough for it to hurt. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “My wife,” he said, looking away again. “During the war.”

  He slid back on the mud and ferns, but stopped when he got light-headed again. When his eyes found Dalejem next, the other seer only nodded.

  “This is different?” he prompted.

  Revik nodded. “Yes.”

  “In what way?”

  Revik exhaled, letting his irritation be audible. “I don’t know. I fucking don’t. This is more about light. It’s worse this time. Worse than it was when I met Kali the first time, I mean. I didn’t react like this before.” He stared down at the mud and let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck. I didn’t do this before. I just wanted her.”

  “Sex, you mean?”

  Revik glared at him, overtly angry that time. “Yes. Sex. I nearly raped her. I told her to leave Saigon, or I would rape her.”

  Dalejem didn’t blink at that news, either.

  “Would you rape her still?” he said neutrally. “Even with her pregnant?”

  Revik felt a kind of horror at the idea. Nausea came with it, a feeling that had nothing to do with separation pain, and everything to do with revulsion. It didn’t come with a conscious thought, but when he glanced up, he saw relief in the other man’s eyes.

  “Well, that is good,” Dalejem said, sighing a little. He rested back on his heels, so that he was more or less kneeling in the mud and bracken. “So what happened just now?”

  Revik glanced around, and realized that it wasn’t only Dalejem asking this.

  He could f
eel the rest of the Adhipan squad with which he’d been traveling for the past two days. He felt Balidor’s light the most prominently there, but he felt others as well. He felt their eyes on him, their aleimi. He felt them weighing him, trying to decide if they could trust him. Trying to decide if he belonged with them on this thing after all, no matter what Kali had said, or that she had asked for him by name.

  “Kali thought it wasn’t her I was reacting to,” Revik blurted.

  He said it without thought, before he’d decided if he wanted to tell them that, either. Still, it was too late to pretend nothing was wrong with him now. Maybe they could help him, at least, if they knew what caused it. Forcing another breath, he fought to open his light, to show them, at least in some part, where he was speaking from, what he was remembering.

  “...I don’t remember a lot of things well,” he admitted. “But I remember how I got back to the compound in Seertown. I remember what happened in Vietnam.”

  “So tell us about that, brother.”

  Revik shook his head, but again, not in a no. “I have told you. I wanted her. I told her to leave Saigon... but then Terian and Raven took her. I had to bring her out myself.”

  “Did you hurt her?”

  Revik shook his head. “No.”

  Another silence fell after he spoke.

  Revik felt them conversing in the Barrier space around him, but he couldn’t pick out anything of what was said. He lay there in the mud, half propped up on one arm, feeling them assessing him like an animal that might go on some kind of rampage if they didn’t chain him at night. He didn’t feel any maliciousness in their assessment, though. If anything, it felt totally detached. Borderline clinical, really.

  “What did Kali think you were reacting to?” Dalejem said then. “If not her?”

  Revik felt his jaw harden more.

  He didn’t meet the other male’s eyes, but felt his chest closing again, not so much in anger that time, or even shame, but rather in an almost overwhelming feeling of privacy, of not wanting them that close to him, not wanting them to know anything about this.

  “Brother,” Dalejem said gently. “We must know. Surely, you must see that?”

  Revik thought about that, too.

  After another pause, he exhaled, knowing resentment still seethed off his light, along with what felt almost like defiance, for the first time really, at least since he’d tried to order them out of his cave-like room in the Pamir.