Revik

by J. C. Andrijeski

  His mouth curled into a harder frown.

  Seemingly caught in indecision, he abruptly leaned back over the table towards her.

  She saw the sweat on his forehead, sticking his black hair to his temples and the sides of his neck. His light swam over hers, seeking information, but also seeking contact for that other pull.

  She felt it more clearly than the whisper of air from the fans behind where they sat.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he said, his voice a near-growl.

  She almost heard his heart beating in his chest.

  “She is the Bridge,” Kali said simply.

  The angry arrogance faded from his eyes, leaving them nearly blank.

  “…She will be, anyway,” Kali added, softer. “And you are meant to know her, little brother. You are meant to know her well.”

  He blinked, once.

  He didn’t lean back, though, or move away from the touch of her fingers that time, which she found herself running over his skin a second time, maybe to reassure him, or to keep him nearer to her. His breath seemed to catch, and she didn’t see him let it out again.

  Kali kept on talking, knowing she might lose him anyway, that this might be her only chance to get it out before he got up and walked away from her entirely.

  “I am risking much by telling you this,” she added quickly, her voice growing increasingly tense as her mind toyed fearfully with the truth of her own words. “You must realize how much I risk, telling you this. I am risking the lives of myself and my mate. I am risking our incarceration… as well as hers. I am risking her very life, even knowing its preciousness––and not only to me. I am risking that you might share this information with your current masters, and try to take her from me.”

  Kali met his gaze, her voice firm.

  “But I have no choice,” she said simply. “You are too important for me not to tell you the truth, brother. Whatever you tell yourself now, about your lack of connection to the rest of us, you are too important… to her, to the rest of us… not to know this.”

  Kali knew the polite veneer of her speech and light had fallen by now, even before she heard the denser note that seeped into her words, making them resonant, but also trembling his aleimi from where he stared at her, speechless.

  “You must know what is at stake,” she said, subduing her voice. “And you must know her, brother Revik. She will utterly fail here in her work if you do not.”

  Taking another breath, Kali heard that resolve seep back into her voice as she added, leaning closer to him,

  “If you do not get away from these people, brother, you never will know her. You will try, brother, yes. She will try, too. You will not be able to help yourselves. But you will fail. Both of you will fail… despite who she is.”

  Kali leaned closer, boring her stare into those colorless eyes.

  “Do you understand me, brother?” she whispered, studying his face, following every nuance of expression. “Do you understand what it is I am saying to you now?”

  Dehgoies Revik stared at her, his eyes still lost in that shock.

  That time, the flicker she saw glance over his expression was easier to read, at least in terms of the base response.

  It was fear.

  Five

  Bomb

  HE LEFT NOT long after that.

  Kali had suspected he would, as soon as she saw that fear begin to take over his light.

  She couldn’t even remember the exact excuse he had given in order to remove himself from her presence, and, more especially, her light. His words had borne so little relationship to what she felt from him, they hadn’t remained in her mind long enough for her light to record their essence.

  Once he had gone, her own fears returned, sharper than before.

  He could be returning to his masters, even now.

  He could be reporting her to them, telling them what she’d said.

  Or, perhaps worse, he could be telling that other seer, the one he’d befriended in another odd, ironic twist of fate or cosmic accident.

  The one they called Terian––at least right now, in this incarnation of him.

  Kali knew him by other names.

  She also knew, from watching the two of them together from behind the Barrier, that Terian tended to bring out the very worst in Dehgoies Revik, in terms of his baser instincts and impulses. The one exception to that rule seemed to reside, again oddly, in that strange protective streak Dehgoies seemed to harbor in regards to Terian himself.

  While they were roughly the same age, Dehgoies Revik somehow maintained the role of elder brother or mentor between the two of them.

  As a part of that, he took a kind of fraternal interest in the other’s overall emotional state and stability… or lack thereof, as the case often seemed to be.

  Revik also seemed to have taken it upon himself to try and curb Terian’s more obvious and animalistic excesses. As a part of that, he even got Terian to retain most of those baser instincts into a single, indivisible form.

  That same form appeared to be the one that spent the most time with Revik, and the one Revik spent the most time both indulging and helping to control.

  Terian was perhaps the oddest seer Kali herself had ever encountered, in any of her visions… which was saying something.

  The young seer formed a unique type of “experiment” for the Org.

  He’d been granted the ability to split his person into more than one form, by housing pieces of his aleimi in different physical bodies. Given that fact, and the fact that Terian remained inherently unstable and borderline schizophrenic as a result of that splitting process, Dehgoies’ ability to influence him at all was no mean feat.

  Kali strongly suspected Terian would have created many more versions of himself, if not for Dehgoies’ influence.

  As it was, at Kali’s last count, Terian had at least six bodies now, housing different parts of his memories, personality traits, and skill sets in each one of them. From watching those bodies from the Barrier, she knew some were entirely psychopathic in nature, while others had much more moderate temperaments––including one with the disposition of a monk who was currently meditating somewhere in northern India.

  Kali thought Terian might actually be a few years older than the dark-haired Dehgoies, but that did little to impede the older-to-younger brother dynamic shared between them. That same dynamic also seemed to thrust them together, again and again, within the auspices of the Org’s own operational structure and assignments.

  Clearly, Galaith had indirectly assigned Dehgoies to Terian as well.

  The flip side of that, unfortunately, was that when Dehgoies felt the urge to indulge that baser side of his own personality, Terian was generally the first person he called.

  If Terian learned of the impending birth of the Bridge, Kali would have to flee.

  She would have to flee Asia itself… and quickly… and likely call in assistance from the Seven Clans and others to help her, as much as she disliked the idea.

  She knew Terian and Dehgoies both shared a preoccupation with the ancient Myths.

  She also knew why, although they may not have known the whole truth themselves.

  That Terian would react to news of the Bridge’s impending incarnation, Kali did not doubt in the slightest. Knowing him, Terian would turn the news into an obsession, not resting until he had both Uye and Kali in his custody.

  Kali could not permit that.

  She knew Uye would not permit it, either.

  Her mate was likely watching Dehgoies even now, to see what he would do with what she’d told him. She had no doubt Uye would have witnessed her entire conversation with Dehgoies, as well as her impressions off the young male’s light.

  She wondered if the reality of their daughter’s life felt any more real to him now, in seeing, up close and personal, this man who would inevitably cross paths with her.

  For, whatever Dehgoies’ final decision, he would know her.

  Her ma
te’s presence grew stronger in her light.

  You did that clumsily, he told her, his light a soft rebuke.

  Feeling the worry there, Kali did not take offense.

  I know, she sent, sighing. But now he knows.

  Now he knows, Uye agreed. But what will he do with that information, my love?

  That is up to him, my love, Kali reminded him gently.

  Uye didn’t answer her in words, but she managed to get his opinion of her views on Dehgoies Revik’s relative free will and its likely outcomes, anyway. Sending him warmth through the connection they shared, Kali eased out from under his direct inspection and that almost suffocating worry, mainly so she could think about what to do next.

  She could not leave Saigon, not yet.

  She definitely suspected Dehgoies Revik would want to talk to her about this again.

  She saw no reason to make that difficult for him. Moreover, she needed to know what he would do with the information she had given him already.

  Kali gave herself a few minutes before she rose from her own wooden folding chair by the pool behind her hotel.

  She watched the white woman from before ascend the steps of the pool, shaking out her long hair before she draped herself over a sunbathing lounger. When the same woman looked back over her shoulder to where Dehgoies Revik had previously sat, Kali saw a flicker of disappointment in the female human’s light.

  She seemed to get over it quickly, though.

  Arranging herself comfortably on the blue-cushioned lounger in her bikini, she placed a white towel under her head and sighed contentedly, closing her eyes.

  The men at the bar continued to look periodically at the woman in the bathing suit and at Kali, but they were on their second round of drinks by then, and their tongues had loosened. They downed scotches even faster than Dehgoies had, discussing the politics of the world in loud, sharp voices, displaying their cynicism and attempts at worldliness with every other word, often without realizing they were often the same thing.

  Kali didn’t really listen to their dissection of the situation in Saigon, or the current state of the war, or their observations about the scandal around Watergate, including Nixon’s final words and actions leading up to his recent resignation and departure.

  She wondered how long it would take Dehgoies Revik to come looking for her.

  He would definitely wish to talk to her again.

  She just didn’t know when… or how that might manifest.

  Nor did she know if he would try to talk to her before or after he attempted to imprison her in the name of his Rook masters.

  The thought made her sigh.

  She couldn’t afford to indulge in too much cynicism, either.

  The light had guided her this far, bringing her to this war-torn country. She had to trust the beings guiding her, and whatever it was that gave her the visions. If she could not bring herself to trust Dehgoies himself yet, she had to remind herself there were other forces at play here, and those forces would be working on Dehgoies, too.

  In any case, whether that was wishful thinking or not, she strongly suspected she wouldn’t need to go looking for him again.

  He would find her.

  Her mate’s presence once more arose in her light.

  I do not care who he is, Uye sent, quiet. Anger seeped into his words, coloring his light and hers. I do not care how much you confuse him for what you are, Kali. I will kill him, if he rapes you. If he abuses you in any way, I will kill him.

  He will not rape me, she assured him.

  But after she had again disentangled herself from Uye, Kali found herself hoping she was right about that, too.

  She was just leaving her place under the colored umbrella, when the sound of gunfire jerked her eyes up from the languid lapping of the pool.

  The men at the bar fell silent.

  The woman in the bikini sat up, staring at the glass doors leading into the hotel, almost as if she expected someone to walk through them, holding an automatic rifle and lobbing grenades at her where she sunbathed.

  Kali was just about to continue her walk to the doors of the hotel, when a loud booming sound shook the ground under her feet.

  IT SHATTERED the glass doors that led into the hotel. Smoke rose in a black column from the other side of the building, where the street stretched across the front.

  Kali dropped to a crouch, half under the table, moving without thought.

  She moved faster than any of the humans.

  Then again, she’d likely seen more wars than any of them.

  Without sparing the men or the white-jacketed bartender more than a glance, Kali rose to her feet while the initial blast still echoed, heading for the alley to the side of the hotel. She had no weapons, but walked at a fast crouch, keeping her head low and aiming her sandaled feet for the main street in front of the hotel.

  She’d learned over the years that it was generally better to know what was going on before deciding on her exact course of action.

  She couldn’t quite make herself believe her interaction with Dehgoies had anything to do with whatever this was, but a part of her needed to verify that for certain, too.

  She found a gravel footpath leading out to the sidewalk.

  A few of the kitchen staff crouched outside a doorway, forgotten cigarettes clenched between lips and fingers as they stared out at that same plume of smoke without getting any closer. She wished she knew Vietnamese well enough to ask them what had occurred, even though she doubted they knew much more than she did.

  On the other hand, they might have more specific and accurate guesses, given that they’d been enduring war in their city for years now, between the French and now the Americans. That didn’t even include their own home-grown terrorists, not to mention the communists, rebels and revolutionaries of various persuasions.

  She didn’t read them, though, not for this.

  She tried not to be invasive with her light with humans, not unless she had good cause. Her adrenaline rush and desire to be reassured by other beings wasn’t a good enough reason, in her view, to violate their minds.

  When they noticed her, they stared at her instead of the smoke.

  One even tried to grab her arm as she passed, to keep her from going out on the street. From his light and the fear in his eyes, Kali knew the gesture indicated concern, and blew warmth over his light.

  Thank you, my kind-hearted cousin, she told him in his mind, knowing he wouldn’t hear it as words. Thank you so much for your concern for me. But I will be all right. I will be all right… you can let me go… I will be all right…

  He released her, his dark eyes holding a flicker of confusion.

  Kali smiled at him, and he smiled back, displaying a wide gap between his front teeth, and one that had been capped by silver metal.

  He wore a dirty kitchen uniform of white, covered in what looked like blood, probably from slaughtering whatever would be served in the hotel’s restaurant for dinner. She knew the hotel was owned by French citizens, and that he likely made a good wage for Saigon, but one that wouldn’t even pay the cab fare to work for a chef in a similarly-rated New York restaurant back home.

  Walking around and through the rest of them with polite murmurs, Kali made it to the other side without any others trying to stop her, or doing more than stare at her in confusion.

  Inching past them along the gravel path, she stayed close to the building, trying to keep out of sight, and out of the open, even as she tried to get close enough to see.

  The kitchen staff began talking more loudly and excitedly behind her, but Kali paid them no mind, since she couldn’t understand their words. Even so, she picked up a few things from their light, hearing them without reaching out as their minds got loud along with their voices.

  They wondered if she might be drunk, or perhaps another European journalist, looking for a story.

  One wondered why they let women work such a job in a war zone.

  One wondered why she didn’t
have a camera with her.

  Finding it all distracting, and not particularly helpful, Kali shut them out.

  She reached the corner of the building a dozen or so feet later, and peered around the white-washed outer wall.

  By then, she could hear the screams. The smoke had gradually gotten thicker as it spread down the alley from the road. Her visibility dropped even more once she poked her head past the protective facade of the hotel and looked for the source of the explosion.

  It took her a few moments to realize what she was looking at.

  When her eyes were finally able to make sense of the scene in front of her, she blinked, more in disbelief than with any more concrete, definable emotion. She saw a car on fire, in the middle of that mess. Pieces of burning and blackened metal littered the road, along with what looked like part of a car seat. The front doors and windows of the hotel appeared to have been blown out, unlike those in the back, but no bodies assaulted her senses, at least not that she could immediately see.

  She heard sirens in the distance.

  Most of the screams and scared voices appeared to come from humans, most of them sounding shocked more than wounded.

  But all of that, Kali noted almost in passing.

  She stared instead at the scene unfolding in the middle of the smoke-covered street.

  Right around the center of the paved roadway, next to a small lake of what might have been gasoline, an Asian woman with straight black hair struggled with a man who lay on his back, trying to fend her off. The Asian woman clutched a gun in one hand, a mostly-black semi-automatic that looked to have more than a few organic components.

  The man below her gripped the wrist of the hand in which she held the gun, fighting to get her to let go of it.

  She was shouting at him.

  He shouted right back at her, his face dark with soot, his mirrored sunglasses gone, his jacket open where she lay on him. Burns littered his chest and arms, small, but dark against the pale stretches of his skin. Something had cut the side of his head, maybe shrapnel from the blast, maybe something the woman sitting on top of him had done to him.