Sun

by J. C. Andrijeski

  “Now,” Uye said. “I wish to do this now.”

  Hesitating only the barest breath, Revik nodded, opening his light. He made it deliberately submissive, gesturing in respect.

  “As I said. Whatever you wish, father.”

  Staring at him briefly, Uye nodded, once, as if satisfied.

  Resting his hands on his hips, he looked at Vikram next.

  “I want him un-collared.” He jerked his jaw towards Revik. “And un-cuffed. Now.”

  Vikram paled, but at Revik’s flat look, he swallowed, nodding too. The East Indian seer approached him then, pulling the keys out of his pocket and nodding again, as if still talking himself into doing this, telling himself it would be okay.

  Vikram was already opening the first cuff when Uye’s voice rose louder.

  “That one, too,” he growled, motioning at Dalejem with a flick of his wrist.

  Revik tensed. He glanced over and saw Jem look up, his eyes showing bewilderment.

  Jem looked from Revik to Uye. Then he frowned.

  “Brother,” Poresh muttered. “I don’t think––”

  “They understand,” Uye said, his voice a growl. “I don’t have to ask my daughter to speak to either of them. Certainly not a seer she committed adultery with.” He gave Revik a harder look. “Chaining them up in here like animals, as if neither were capable of self-control… it is demeaning to my daughter and my family. I will not speak to them in such a way.”

  Swallowing, Poresh nodded.

  Revik knew they’d be reluctant to intervene in a domestic matter with an elder seer who’d asserted familial rights, even if they did think Revik would kill Dalejem. Even so, he clenched his jaw as Poresh pulled out a different set of keys, walking to Dalejem’s side of the cell and resting a knee on the cot.

  He motioned for Dalejem to hold out his arms.

  “Can you keep your mouth shut long enough to stay alive, brother?” he muttered to him, as he unlocked the first cuff. “Or will we be giving you a burial at sea later?”

  Dalejem didn’t answer. He only glared at Revik.

  Revik averted his gaze when Vikram tapped his shoulder, indicating with a gesture for Revik to turn around so he could deactivate the collar.

  Once Revik shifted position on the cot, Vikram bent over his neck.

  He flipped the thumbnail switch, using his irises to deactivate the collar’s sight restraint mechanism. Shortly after, there was a click, and the collar unlocked. Revik took a breath, feeling the organic strands unwind themselves from around the back of his spine.

  Then he was free.

  He sat there, head bent, panting, as his light crept back around his form.

  He couldn’t move as lights rushed back around him, wrapping into his with a heat and intensity that took his breath. He felt Lily, Maygar––

  Allie. He felt Allie strongest of all.

  He felt the relief in her light, her grief, her missing him.

  Love. He felt so much love.

  Briefly, pain overwhelmed him, bringing tears to his eyes. He sat there, silent, wiping the tears away with the heels of his hands, fighting to control himself before he broke down for real.

  Vikram looked up at Uye, frowning.

  “Don’t let them kill each other,” he said. “Please. The Bridge will be most displeased with us, if you let them––”

  “They would not dare,” Uye said, his voice a harder mutter as he glared between them.

  No one spoke while Poresh unlocked the second cuff off Dalejem’s wrist, and stood, joining Vikram in the middle of the cell.

  Dalejem and Revik were both free now, but neither moved from their respective cots.

  “Get up,” Uye said, his voice cold. “Follow me. I will not talk to you here, either.”

  He didn’t wait to see if they would comply. Turning his back to both of them, he began to walk, leaving the cell without a backwards glance.

  Exiting the oval hatch, he made a left in the gray corridor.

  Revik heard the sound of his footsteps begin to recede.

  For an instant, he only sat there, on the thin mattress of the cot, trying to control his light with the collar gone. He didn’t trust himself to look at Jem, to look at any of them really, so he only sat there for a few seconds, staring at the cell floor.

  Then, feeling Vikram and Poresh waiting, wondering what he would do, he pulled himself stiffly off the cot, wincing as he straightened to his full height.

  Uye sent a flick of warning at his light.

  That time, Revik moved faster.

  He began to walk, speeding his legs and feet to catch up with his wife’s father.

  4

  FATHERLY ADVICE

  KNOW THAT I love you too, my brother. As much as I love our beautiful Bridge. Know that I left a gift for her. A gift for both of you…

  Dragon’s words to him in that underground bunker echoed somewhere in Revik’s mind.

  They bothered him now, as much as they had then.

  He didn’t know enough to piece them together. He had no one to ask but Jem, who he couldn’t trust to tell him anything right now.

  Frowning, he pushed the thought from his mind, watching his father-in-law’s back as the older male walked in front of him.

  He knew what was coming here.

  He knew he probably deserved it.

  Even so, he couldn’t be certain he would have done things differently, if forced to choose again. It still seemed like the right choice to the more practical, strategic side of him––the right choice in a sea of wrong, fucked up, terrible choices, in an op Revik hated everything about, in a situation where he and his wife had no good options at all.

  Menlim would have made him kill his wife.

  He knew it in the very marrow of his bones.

  Allie agreed with him.

  She hated it as much as he did, but she agreed it had to be done, that it couldn’t wait, that Revik was the only one who could do it. She tried to take the blame, on those nights he was the one trying to talk her out of it, instead of the reverse. She told him they were just taking Tarsi’s advice, using Revik the way he could be used, both militarily and with his light, as well as psychologically, given his background with Menlim.

  It was a Hail Mary pass they’d barely pulled off, and it still wasn’t over.

  They’d lost Chandre. They’d lost Brooks.

  They had no idea what the Dreng would do next, how they would hit back. They had no idea if Menlim himself was still a threat to them down here, or if the threat had already morphed forms, changed faces into something they’d need to identify all over again.

  That didn’t even get into the emotional fallout of the last ten months.

  He couldn’t even look at Jem now, although he was aware of the older male walking behind him, his steps ghost-quiet on the metal deck. Revik knew he’d be facing him again in minutes if not seconds, and that Dalejem’s own light was out of control enough that he’d probably keep trying to fuck with him, even with Revik un-collared.

  He could feel the other male’s light sparking at him erratically––jealousy and anger, separation pain from Allie, likely worsened by her pregnancy.

  Anger that Revik was alive.

  Anger that he’d come back to his family.

  Those last two things might be significantly more buried, less openly acknowledged in Jem’s mind, but Revik didn’t think he’d imagined either thing.

  Even just having him so physically near, Revik was having trouble not reacting to the insane amounts of possessiveness Dalejem was emanating––around Revik’s own fucking wife. He could feel Dalejem wanting to tell him more details about their sex life, as if he hadn’t spent a good portion of the last twelve hours doing that already.

  Dalejem probably couldn’t even fully help himself at this point.

  He’d likely keep saying stupid things until Revik lost his cool for real. As a seer, he’d instinctively want to fight Revik for her, but there’s only one way that fight wo
uld end, if he managed to provoke Revik for real.

  He didn’t want to kill Dalejem.

  He wanted to talk to his wife.

  Whatever needed to be said about the three of them, about where things stood now, about how things had changed, he wanted to hear it from her. No one else.

  Until that happened, he would do whatever he could to avoid hurting the other male. Unfortunately, that meant if he really got into it with Jem, he’d probably have to let the other seer kick the shit out of him. He’d have to close his light and just take it, recite scripture in his head like he had as a kid, and hope Jem didn’t try to kill him.

  He wasn’t going to kill the father of Allie’s child.

  Wincing at the thought, he closed his eyes, shoving the image from his mind.

  He couldn’t think about this now.

  He couldn’t think about it here, not with Allie’s father wanting to kick the shit out of him now, too. Hell, when it came to Uye, Revik couldn’t even be sure he begrudged him the desire.

  Some part of him almost welcomed it.

  In all of that, his light continued to confuse him.

  He could barely think past the fucking relief that still swam through his aleimi since the collar left his neck and he could feel his wife for real. He knew it was irrational. He knew it didn’t make any sense, that he had no idea how she felt, or what she’d want now that she was carrying another man’s child.

  Again, pain hit his chest at the thought.

  Even so, now that he could feel her, now that he could feel Lily and Maygar, he almost didn’t care about the rest of it.

  He just wanted her to come home.

  He wanted her to come home, pregnant with Jem’s child or not.

  Of course, when he went into that feeling deep enough, killing Dalejem started feeling like a really fucking acceptable outcome, so Revik wasn’t sure he should let those base, seer, familial instincts too far into his light, either––at least not yet.

  Still, the relief didn’t dissipate.

  Somehow, in all of this, they were all still alive. His wife was alive.

  His children were alive.

  He managed to exhale around that thought as Uye, Allie’s biological father, turned left down a second ship’s corridor and stopped in front of the third oval-shaped hatch. Using a card key to unlock it, he shoved the hatch open as Revik watched, entering without preamble and holding open the door.

  Revik looked up and down the corridor warily before he followed.

  Once inside, he looked around the room warily as well, but it was only a set of regular crew’s quarters. A little small for his tastes, with his issues around enclosed spaces, but he pushed his awareness of that from his mind as he entered the windowless room.

  Dalejem came in behind him.

  Uye motioned sharply for him to close the door.

  Once Dalejem had done so, and re-engaged the lock, Uye looked from one of their faces to the other. He addressed Dalejem first.

  “Did you do this?” he said, blunt.

  Dalejem blinked, glancing at Revik. Then he bowed, making his voice formal.

  “Excuse me, father?” he said politely. “Did I do what?”

  Revik gritted his teeth, fighting a surge of raw, irrational rage at how Jem addressed the other seer. Before he could say anything, Uye said it for him.

  “Do not call me that,” Uye said, motioning a negative with his hand. “Not now. Not in front of her husband. I won’t be a proxy in some juvenile and heavy-handed attempt to goad him into a fight. Nor will I lift a finger to save your life if you manage to succeed.” He paused, and his voice came out colder. “Did you seduce my daughter? Or was that part of this ‘op’ the three of you were running, to have this public sexual relationship with her?”

  Dalejem blinked. He glanced at Revik a second time.

  His confusion struck Revik as real.

  Clearly, this conversation hadn’t started the way Jem expected. When Revik wouldn’t return his stare, Dalejem looked back at Uye. Still, he didn’t answer Uye’s question, which seemed to anger Allie’s father for real.

  “Did you seduce her?” Uye snapped. His tone made both Revik and Dalejem jump. “Was this an attempted poaching from the outset? Did you take advantage of her in her vulnerable state, while her husband was absent, presumed to have been turned or worse?”

  A loaded pause ensued, where his eyes flickered even more coldly towards Revik.

  “…Or were you asked to do this, brother?”

  Revik opened his mouth, about to answer, but Uye raised a finger, giving him a brief, hard stare.

  “I am not speaking to you yet.”

  Revik shut his mouth.

  He felt his neck and cheeks coloring, like he was a child all over again, but he didn’t say anything. He also didn’t move from where he stood, not even to change the position of his feet.

  “He asked me.” Dalejem folded his arms, suddenly looking and feeling younger than Revik had ever seen him. That harder shell of fight and bravado fell from his light. “Things have evolved since that time, brother Uye. They have evolved in my heart, and in my loyalties, both to him and to her. I wish to contest rights. I have a desire to assert rights now, brother, despite their bond. Military exercise or not, he abandoned her, for all intents and purposes, and––”

  Uye shook his head, clicking loudly.

  Dalejem fell silent, wrapping his arms more tightly around his chest.

  Uye returned his stare, his shocking, light-blue eyes darkening to the color of steel.

  “You can search your own conscience about your desire to break up a family,” Uye said, his voice harder than his eyes. “Negotiate that with my daughter, brother. Our business is finished.”

  There was a silence.

  When Jem didn’t move, Uye’s voice grew colder.

  “Leave, brother. I wish to speak to my son alone.”

  Revik flinched, feeling himself color again.

  It was correct to reference him in such a way, according to seer law. Uye had never done so before, though. Neither had Kali.

  Revik suspected the two of them had vastly different reasons for not using the term with him, though.

  In Kali’s case, Revik assumed she avoided doing so more for Allie’s sake than anything to do with him. Allie had been so angry at both of them, especially Kali, that anything referencing Kali as her mother, even with the qualification of “biological” thrown in front of it, had a tendency to enrage her for hours.

  Uye likely had different reasons.

  He’d made it pretty clear he didn’t trust Revik with his daughter.

  Hell, he didn’t trust Revik with his wife, much less his daughter. For Uye to call him son now, in front of Dalejem, definitely meant something.

  Revik just had no idea what.

  Somehow, he doubted it was a compliment.

  Those blue eyes didn’t waver from Dalejem’s face until the other male sighed.

  Dalejem gave Revik a hard look, clearly communicating that their own conversations on the subject had only begun, but Revik didn’t bother to return his look. Jem would grant Uye’s request. It was all Revik really cared about right then.

  Giving a polite bow to Uye, Jem turned away without another word. He opened the hatch, unlocking it with a hollow clang, and walked through before pulling it shut behind him.

  That time, the lock re-engaged automatically.

  Despite Dalejem’s surface politeness to Uye, Revik could feel that Allie’s father pissed him off. He also got the impression a second time that Uye’s words weren’t what Jem expected to hear coming in here, not from Uye, at least.

  Revik felt something else there, too––something that caused his jaw to clench harder all on its own. Dalejem had been careful with Uye because of Allie. He wanted a future with Revik’s wife, and he didn’t want to anger or disrespect her family.

  The realization made him want to physically hurt the other male.

  Again.

&
nbsp; Shoving the thought from his mind, he turned to face Uye warily. He didn’t exactly feel vindicated around Dalejem’s “desire to petition for rights,” not even by Uye himself, regardless of Uye’s words about his family, but he was glad he’d dismissed Dalejem.

  He studied the older male’s eyes cautiously. He started to open his mouth to speak, but Uye shook his head, once, clicking at him loudly.

  “Sit.” He pointed at a chair bolted to the deck. “Now.”

  Revik hesitated, but not for very long.

  It wasn’t a request.

  He sat.

  Standing over him, Uye refolded his arms, his blue eyes holding more now. More than they had when he’d dismissed Dalejem. Revik suspected he wasn’t seeing a fraction of what was there though, and it crossed his mind to wonder at Uye’s sight rank.

  For the first time, his mind tried to discern something about his wife’s father’s training, his background––really, Revik knew nothing whatsoever about him.

  This male fathered his wife. He was grandfather to Revik’s daughter.

  The realization really hit him, maybe for the first time.

  Something about that made him open his light, and let it grow more submissive. He hadn’t entirely realized how aggressive and locked down he’d let his light become until that moment. Now he relaxed that wall he’d erected, like he had when Uye first questioned him in the cell.

  Once he had, he looked up, sending a pulse of apology to the older male.

  If Uye felt it, he didn’t react.

  “You remember what I said to you,” he said, his voice hard. “In Brazil.”

  Revik flinched. He nodded.

  “Tell me,” Uye said. “Tell me what I said.”

  Revik cleared his throat. He remembered the exact words, instantly, despite how scrambled his mind and light still felt after what Menlim did to him and what Allie had been forced to do to fix it. Remembering her by that wall, how much happiness he’d felt on her, even more sharply than the grief and confusion, he swallowed, fighting a harder tightening in his throat.

  She’d been happy to see him. She’d been happy he was alive.

  She’d wanted to touch him. He’d sidestepped her at every turn.

  Fuck.