Sun

by J. C. Andrijeski

  2

  KNIGHTS OF THE END

  I MUST HAVE fallen asleep after all.

  I don’t remember closing my eyes, or even when the four of us stopped talking, or what we were talking about by then. I remember dusting off that bottle of rice wine, looking out the window at the land below the helicopter. I remember Wreg muttering about maybe having another bottle somewhere in back, then––

  Nothing. I don’t remember anything more.

  Not until I was jerked violently awake.

  The loud shout seemed to come from right by my ear. I leapt forward, hurting my leg when I slammed up against the jump seat restraints. A hot flood of adrenaline shot through my blood, wiping out conscious thought in favor of something raw, immediate, nearly silent.

  My light ignited, flooding the structures I used for telekinesis.

  I opened my eyes to a dark helicopter.

  My mind snapped back on, cataloguing the basics.

  The Russian helicopter. We weren’t back yet. We were on our way back.

  Back to where my husband was.

  I felt the danger even as the structures in my aleimi filled with light, turning my higher thoughts crystal clear. I felt Revik in that somewhere and pain wound through me, but not enough to slow me down.

  Turning, I stared out the window, breathing hard.

  I saw it with my light––long before my eyes picked it out of the dark.

  A missile was coming straight towards us.

  It aimed with bullseye precision at the fuselage of the helicopter.

  I heard Balidor talking loudly into a headset a few seats over from me. Next to me, Wreg shouted into the cockpit and after a long-feeling pause, Varlan shouted something back. Jon gripped the armrests of his seat, shouting something as well, either to Wreg or Varlan or both of them. I saw their lips move, the fear in their eyes, but somehow, I comprehended none of it, other than the urgency of it, the lack of time.

  All of that happened on a different plane than me somehow.

  It happened far away, in slow motion––the words too slow for me to respond to, too distant for me to even make sense of.

  My light took over instead, bleeding down from somewhere above my head.

  I felt Varlan, but only in the tiniest of increments.

  Only enough for him to tell me what I needed to know.

  Two seconds, his thoughts told me. Impact in two seconds. No time to evade.

  My light wrapped around and into the mechanics of the missile.

  Somewhere in my mind, a voice rose.

  Allie, wait––

  But I’d already found the means of ignition. Heating atoms in the warhead, I slammed them into one another, exactly the way my husband taught me.

  In the same millisecond, I jerked it violently off course, pulling it into a different direction.

  There was another of those long-feeling increments of time, then––

  The missile exploded.

  I flinched, looking out the oval view port to my left. The explosion created a rosette flush in the night sky, still over a hundred yards away.

  There was a silence.

  I felt disbelief, then relief all around me.

  Wreg clasped my arm, warmth bleeding through his fingers as he shook me with rough affection, saying something even as he wrapped an arm around Jon’s neck. Jon exhaled, leaning half against his husband and half against the back of his seat.

  Balidor smiled at me, switching gears as he spoke into his headset, telling them I’d taken care of the problem, that I’d handled it before they even knew I was awake.

  I leaned back in my seat, gripping the armrests, breathing hard.

  The adrenaline that flooded my system took a few seconds to begin to drain off. The remnants of it mixed badly with the rice wine, and I exhaled again, fighting to calm down, to stop my hands from shaking, to let my stomach settle.

  I could feel something still. Not another missile, but––something.

  I remembered the voice then, and frowned.

  It almost sounded like––

  They were looking for us, a different voice said.

  I froze, opening my eyes. I glanced around at the three men seated next to me, but I already knew it hadn’t been one of them who’d spoken in my mind.

  Going totally silent, I listened.

  The voice sounded different that time, but still familiar.

  That’s what Revi’ says, it continued. He says they were looking for us. Nothing to be done, though, sister. Nothing to be done. You had to do it. Yes, yes. No choice. No other option.

  The being clucked its tongue through the Barrier, exuding regret.

  Feeling the presence more strongly behind the words, I exhaled.

  Feigran? I sent. Is that you?

  Yes, yes. Of course, yes. Your husband tells me they were looking for us. Looking for you. Shouldn’t we talk about that? About what he said?

  Was that him before? I sent. Revik? Was it him I heard in my head before I detonated the warhead?

  The space grew silent. I couldn’t tell if my question confused him, or if Feigran simply didn’t want to answer me. I tried again.

  You’re talking to Revik now, Feigran? He’s with you right now?

  No, no… not with me. Not really with me. Collared. They have him collared, so he won’t kill the pretty one with the green eyes.

  I flinched, grimacing, then found myself fighting annoyance.

  “Collared,” I muttered. “They fucking collared him. Figures.” Where is he, Feigran? Where are Revik and Jem? They’re not together, are they?

  I think he’s asleep, beautiful sister. I think he’s asleep.

  My frown deepened. Revik’s asleep? Or Jem?

  Revi’, Revi’. Feigran clicked at me, as if I was asking stupid questions. Revi’s asleep, dear sister. He asked for drugs. For dreamless sleep. Sleep without his wife, without his wife and her new baby and the pretty one with the green eyes.

  I flinched involuntarily at Feigran’s words that time, too.

  Feigran didn’t seem to notice, but prattled on.

  Happy baby, sister Allie. Many greetings and felicitations for the baby growing in your tummy. It is lovely news, even if the green-eyed one was mean about it.

  My frown deepened.

  Happy, happy news… Feigran continued, sing-song. Happy, happy news. Happy, happy baby––

  Okay, I cut in. Okay, Fig. I get it. That’s enough. Thank you. Thank you for the well wishes. Let’s not talk about the baby right now though, okay?

  I was going to kill Jem.

  I was really, really going to kill him.

  Shoving that aside, I focused back on Feigran, on making sense of his words.

  How are you talking to Revik if he’s asleep? Remembering who I was talking to, who Feigran really was, I grimaced. Never mind. What do you mean, they’re looking for me? Who’s looking for me? The Dreng?

  No, no. Well… yes and no. No and yes. Not down here. All gone down here. But they whisper, yes. They whisper things. Revi’ knows. Revi’ told me––

  Yes, I cut in. I understand. Revi’ told you. But who down here? Who are they whispering to now, Feigran? Remembering Ute staring down at me after I’d jumped in the river, I frowned. Aren’t most of their people dead? How could they be looking for us already, with so many lost in Beijing? I figured most of the Shadow cities would be a mess right now.

  Not the same, not the same––

  What’s not the same? You’re saying different people are looking for us now?

  Yes, yes, he sent, impatient. The last ones. Warriors. The Knights of the Last Days. They are looking for you. Others, too. Whoever is left, sister Alyson. All of them. Every single one. All out war now, all out fighting, all out killing. He wanted me to tell you. He wants you to know.

  My frown deepened. Who wants me to know? Revik?

  Feigran clicked at me in the Barrier’s dark. Yes, yes, Revi’! Of course, Revi’! He wanted me to tell you. I told yo
u it was Revi’. Weren’t we just talking about Revi’? I told you he sent me the message, did I not?

  I blinked, still trying to make sense of this.

  Revik had never spoken to me through Feigran before. He’d never needed to.

  Then again, he’d never spoken to me collared, drugged and asleep before, either. I didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Was this because the network was down? Had something changed in Revik’s light with Menlim finally eradicated from his aleimi?

  I swallowed. That felt true.

  His light was different now––changed. I could feel it even from here.

  I’d never known Revik without the Dreng in his light. I’d thought I had, but after Dubai, both of us realized I hadn’t. I doubted even Revik remembered what his light was like before Menlim got hold of him. Maybe none of us knew what he was capable of now, with all of Menlim’s back doors and hidden switches finally closed and shut off.

  Now that Menlim no longer had any means of manipulating him, was it possible Revik’s actual abilities might have changed, too?

  Was this Revik free? Was he more like Feigran now?

  If so, what did that mean? For him? For us?

  Still frowning, even as a whisper of hope flickered in my chest, I focused on Feigran.

  Revik’s asleep, I clarified. He’s asleep, but he felt me ignite the telekinesis and wanted you to warn me not to use it, because someone is shooting missiles at random helicopters, planes and boats, trying to find one with a telekinetic seer on board. Is that what you’re telling me, brother Feigran? Is that Revik’s message?

  Yes. Feigran’s thoughts grew relieved. Yes, yes… exactly this, beautiful, wise, clever sister. Very good. Revi’ thought you should know. He was worried, you see. He wanted you to know they can probably track you now, from what you just did. They will probably track you back home. You see? This is good to know, yes?

  I could see Feigran now, his amber, owlish eyes blinking at me in the dark.

  Those owl-like eyes didn’t move as he continued to speak.

  Revi’ says they are looking for you. They are looking for you right now. He says you should land, now that you did this. Change planes. Change everything. Don’t come here until you do that, he says. Or it could be bad. Very, very bad.

  Feigran made an image of another rosette explosion behind my eyes, only bigger.

  That time, it was blowing up a ship.

  Boom! Feigran sent. Boom! Boom! Boom! You see?

  I stared at him in the dark behind my eyes.

  I understood. His meaning was crystal clear.

  How much time do we have, Feigran? Should we be expecting another missile right away? I need to tell my people, so we can decide what to do.

  Feigran shrugged in the darkness.

  I don’t know, he sent. How would I know that?

  Torn between amusement and impatience, I bit my lip. Ask Revik, I sent. Ask Revik please, brother. Then come back and tell me what he says.

  There was another silence.

  Just before it ended, Feigran’s presence strengthened.

  Revi’ says no. He says no, they likely won’t attack now.

  I frowned, puzzled. Why not?

  Feigran blinked. He cocked his head, as if listening.

  Revi’ says, they’ll want to follow you back to the base. He says they’ll want to find all of us, to kill all of us. They have a better chance of hitting us for real when they can go after multiple targets in a stationary location. They are probably prepping nuclear…

  Trailing, Feigran paused.

  Do you need me to go on, sister Alyson? Or is this enough?

  My chest tightened, but I shook my head.

  No, Feigran, I sent. That’s enough. I understand. Tell Revik thank you for the warning. I appreciate it, both of you. Tell him we’ll find a way around. We won’t lead them back there.

  He says be careful, Feigran piped up. He says they are very, very angry. He made his voice deeper, giving it a German accent, a passable imitation of Revik’s. “Fury isn’t the word. It is more than fury, more than irrational. They are desperate now, and it will make them exceedingly dangerous. Tell my wife to be careful.”

  I flinched a little at what he’d called me, pain heating my chest.

  Feigran cocked his head, as if listening.

  Once more, he adopted the Revik-sounding voice.

  “They are finished with this, wife. They want us dead. Gone. You. Me, if I’m alive. Feigran. Maygar. Balidor. Tarsi. Wreg… even Cass and Lily. Everyone who is not already turned or loyal. Everyone on the Lists. For them, it is total war now. No more long game. No more games at all. Just killing. Just death. Just annihilation.”

  Feigran paused.

  That’s what he says, sister, he added, in his normal voice. Those are his words, not mine. You wanted his words, yes? Not mine?

  I glanced out the window, swallowing.

  Yes, I sent. Thank you, brother. We’ll be there when we can.

  Clicking out of the space, I frowned down at my legs in the dark.

  When I heard Balidor telling the person on the other end of his link that we’d be there in just over an hour, I turned my head, sharp.

  “No,” I said. “Tell them to change course. Now. Tell them it’s an order from me, and to not tell you where they’re going. Then terminate communication, Balidor. At once.”

  Balidor blinked, staring at me through the dark.

  Then I heard him relay my message.

  In less than a minute, he’d finished speaking and severed the link, without so much as a word of goodbye to the other side.

  All three of them were looking at me now.

  “We’re changing course, too,” I explained. “We can’t talk to the ship again, not until we’re completely off their maps. We’ll fill them in when it’s safe. In the meantime, tell Varlan to go under the hard deck, so radar can’t follow us.”

  Wreg got up and walked to the cockpit, moving without hesitation.

  I heard him talking to Varlan as soon as he’d parted the curtain, relaying my order.

  Jon only stared at me. “Changing course? Al, where are we going?”

  “I’ll let you tell me where, once I’ve told you the rest of it,” I said grimly.

  My stomach rolled faintly as the nose of the helicopter dipped. Wreg pulled himself back to his seat and buckled in as Varlan began taking the helicopter down toward the water.

  Without waiting, I relayed everything Revik and Feigran told me.

  Like Feigran, I told them what Revik said, word for word.

  In the end, Jon was the first to speak.

  “Who the hell are the Knights of the Last Days?” he said, frowning around at the rest of us in the dark. “Is there seriously another whack-job group out there, run by Shadow?”

  I shrugged. “I guess?”

  “You know this one already,” Balidor said, his voice grim.

  We all turned to look at him.

  “We do?” I said. “Who are they, ‘Dor?”

  He looked at me in the dim light, his mouth in a hard line.

  “One of them tried to kill Jem not so long ago, Allie. On that plane, on your way to China.” Exhaling, he ran his hand through his hair, leaning back in his jump seat. “A group of them tried to burn you alive in New York, once upon a time. You were also in proximity to at least one terrorist attack perpetuated by them, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Mythers.” I stared at him. “You mean that cult? The human one?”

  “Fucking religious fanatic terrorists, you mean,” Jon muttered. Leaning back in his seat, he exhaled, his light exuding anger as he gestured sharply. “Of course they’re sponsored by the Dreng. I mean… of course. They only spent the last forty years killing innocent civilians with their racist, religious-supremacy garbage.”

  Wreg frowned, looking at Balidor, too.

  “You mean the lunatics with the spirals?” he said, still frowning.

  “Triskeles, yes,” Balidor
said, nodding once. “It is their symbol. The three spirals. Usually it is gold on black, but I have seen black on white, red on white.”

  Wreg continued to frown. “But we used to be tasked with controlling them. Salinse called them deluded, false prophet, seer-worshippers––the worst kind of heretics. He had us use them as distractions, to cover up some of our work. Our code name for them was…” He trailed, glancing at Jon, his voice apologetic. “…Cannon fodder.”

  Jon grunted, folding his arms. “I exhibit no surprise.”

  “How many of them are there, ‘Dori?” I said, looking back at the Adhipan leader. “Feigran made it sound like this is something we need to worry about. Like they’ve been ‘activated’ or something, to take the place of Shadow’s military.”

  Balidor continued to frown, just like Wreg.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said, gesturing vaguely with a hand. “Like the Rebels, we kept an eye on them over the years, but I don’t really know much.”

  “What do you know?” I pressed. “Anything we would need to know? That the human news feeds never reported?”

  Folding his arms, Balidor exhaled, arranging his body deeper in the seat.

  “Recruitment was a big focus of theirs,” he said after a beat. “We also long believed they had strong ties to mainstream human religious institutions, including financial ties. The leaders of those religions and sects kept those ties more or less under wraps, of course, primarily for political reasons, but likely also for legal ones.”

  He looked at me, his expression hardening.

  “Many of our infiltrators who kept an eye on human religious extremism felt the mainstream Christian sects privately supported them, financially and politically… even intervening for them legally from time to time. Some of the more conservative Jewish and Muslim sects supported them as well. We saw indications of ties with certain Buddhist off-shoots and elements within the Hindu religious hierarchy.”

  “Great,” Jon muttered, still scowling. “So all the religions can agree on that. On terrorism against seers being a cool thing.”

  Balidor glanced at him. “The Mythers were very good at creating off-shoots designed to connect with and appeal to specific human religions. The Myther core working out of Israel merged its tenets seamlessly with Judaism. The one working out of the Vatican did the same with Catholicism. The one in India was made compatible with Hinduism… and so on.”