Allie's War Season Two

by JC Andrijeski

  Then his voice rose, colder than before.

  “Give me a minute to have someone find her.”

  “Okay...”

  But he had already walked away from the line.

  Jon swallowed, suddenly nervous. Revik needed to go have someone else find Allie? What the hell did that mean? Weren’t they attached at the hip these days? Jon felt the others staring at him, too, probably because he’d asked if Revik was okay. He didn’t return any of their gazes though, especially Balidor’s.

  He waited for what felt like a long time.

  Fidgeting with the phone cord, he unwrapped it from his fingers when he realized he might actually break it. He glanced back at the others finally, and found them all staring at him, as if he, personally, was responsible for the delay.

  “He’s looking for her,” Jon said.

  “Looking for her?” Balidor said. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means he’s looking for her. Now shut up, or he’ll hear your voice.” Swallowing, he looked back at the phone. “...He’ll find her.”

  Jon had no idea why he felt defensive, but he was openly nervous by the time someone picked up the phone again.

  “Jon?” Her voice was tentative. “Jon?”

  Relief flooded him. So much so that his throat closed. He cleared it with an effort, giving Cass a brief grin.

  “Yeah, gorgeous. It’s me.”

  There was another silence.

  “You’re...calling me?”

  He felt her thinking then, as though remembering something.

  “This is about Brazil, isn’t it? What happened at Black Arrow...”

  Jon shrugged a little. He glanced at Balidor, but wished he hadn’t when he saw the seer’s hard stare.

  “Not only that, little sis,” he said, as casually as he could. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I thought maybe Revik would let you talk to me...being nothing but a dumb worm and all.”

  She didn’t smile. He felt sure he would have felt it through the line if she had, and he didn’t. Instead, he felt her putting the pieces together, like drawing a map between them. A few seconds later, she sighed, making that clicking sound.

  “Tell Balidor, he doesn’t have to kill me yet,” she said, her voice carrying an edge. “I’m not doing high fives with the Dreng just yet...”

  “Al, come on. We’re worried, is all.” He hesitated. “Revik. Is he treating you okay? He didn’t sound—”

  “I’m coming back,” she cut in. “I’ll be back in a few weeks. So everyone can relax. He’s letting me go.”

  “Letting you go?” Jon didn’t hide his puzzlement. “Were you a prisoner?”

  “...The only reason I’m not on a plane right now is that they had one of theirs in for repairs. The other one is still in Eastern Europe...”

  “Yeah,” Jon said. “Okay, Al.”

  He glanced at Balidor and Cass once more. Both of them had frustration in their eyes, and it occurred to him that his half of the conversation hadn’t exactly been illuminating.

  “Yeah,” he said again. “I’ve been hearing about that. The work camps got busted up? Did you guys have something to do with that?”

  “I can’t talk about operations, Jon,” she said tersely. “You know that.”

  “Well, why are you coming back?” he said. “Just for a visit?”

  “No,” she said. “Not for a visit, Jon.”

  She sounded so much like Revik it stumped him for a minute.

  There was a silence. Jon realized suddenly that she was crying.

  “Jesus...Al. What’s going on?”

  “I can’t talk about it right now. You’ll see me in two weeks. Possibly less. I’ll call you as soon as I know something more precise. Just tell them not to shoot when I get there...”

  “Allie, it hasn’t been six months...”

  “Are you saying I’m not allowed back?” she said. “Would you rather I stayed longer?”

  A pause.

  “No,” he said, glancing at Balidor. “All I meant is...is Revik coming?”

  There was another silence.

  Before he could ask her anything else, the line went dead.

  Staring at the black receiver in his hand, he looked at the others, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

  WE LEFT BY land, first.

  I called Jon back, using the same number they’d used to call me, once I had the rough itinerary. The people monitoring the communications console at the Rebel compound said I could call whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, but I knew the lines were tapped.

  By then, I was an enemy combatant, or near enough.

  No one really said anything to me when I left. But then, I’d spent the last few weeks in the room Revik and I had shared...alone, of course. I could still order food. I could go swimming, or to the common room...not like I ever did either of those things. Access to any but the official network feeds abruptly discontinued...as did my access to the construct, much less the computers, apart from a basic net interface.

  I wasn’t allowed outside of the residential area of the compound, either.

  No one bothered to explain why. But then, it wasn’t really necessary.

  The day I finally left, I sat in the back of a van, a hood over my head as we bounced over dirt tracks. Remembering the last time I’d traveled that way, I couldn’t help but think there probably wouldn’t be a birthday cake waiting for me on the other side. Anyway, my birthday wasn’t for at least a few more months.

  I did my best to focus on why I was there, what would come after this, but it was hard. No, not hard. Pretty damn nigh impossible.

  Unlike the last time I traveled with a black cloth over my head, this time I wasn’t wearing a collar. I could feel him there, sitting next to me.

  He didn’t talk to me though, or let his light travel anywhere near mine. It was like sitting next to his corpse again, only this time, it was me who wanted to talk to him, not the reverse.

  Bouncing over the dirt tracks, I just wanted it to be over.

  I wanted the whole thing to be over, but I knew it never really would be.

  “YOU ARE CERTAIN she is out?” Voi Pai asked.

  Her voice sounded harsh, even across the distance Balidor felt between them through the non-organic transmitter.

  “There is no room for mistakes on this, Balidor...I will not lose my people to her clumsiness...”

  “She is out. I am positive, Voi Pai. You have a green light.”

  “And you are sure you want that crazy dirt-blood back?” she asked him again. “The one he traded your life for?” Her voice held contempt. “Why, Balidor? What do you want from him?”

  “Bridge’s orders,” he said only.

  “Bridge’s orders?”

  “Yes. She made it clear she expects authority in all areas of this matter...”

  “And we live to obey?” Voi Pai said, her voice holding sarcasm.

  There was a silence.

  “We do indeed,” was all he said. “Do not exceed yourself in this, respected Sister. I do not think you will like the results if you do...”

  “Low casualties, I know,” the woman grumbled angrily. “I remember...”

  She terminated the transmission without another word.

  Balidor didn’t exactly smile, but he found some humor to the situation regardless.

  The leader to the Lao Hu, the most disciplined seer military force on the planet, most definitely did not enjoy taking orders.

  NIKKA SPRAWLED ON a couch in the common room, where underground feed stations played in the background. All of the security protocols had lifted again, now that the Bridge had left the building.

  Still, Nikka missed her light a little. She would never, ever let herself think that around the boss, but she noticed when they cut her out of the construct.

  It was like everything got a little heavier again.

  She noticed again when the Bridge left that morning...more than she thought she would, given that Allie
had been locked in the Sword’s room by herself for weeks.

  The Sword himself had gone to stay in some guest room on the other side of the compound, but Nikka knew he had not slept much. She also knew, from Wreg, that he’d come to him more than once, and that the older seer had stayed up with him while he drank, even though he said he didn’t really talk. He said he cried a few times though, which was worse.

  Nikka hadn’t asked if the Sword stayed in those guest apartments alone or not, but she suspected he had, despite the rumors she’d heard whispered in the construct.

  All the rumors contradicted anyway, so Nikka figured they were probably trash...same old construct gossip among seers who knew nothing really. People heard thoughts and musings and mental threats and sometimes thought these things had really happened...then spread it to someone else who believed it, too, so it spread again. Constructs could be a big incestuous pit at times, especially where strong emotions were involved. And no one disputed that the Sword had some strong emotions happening the last few weeks.

  Across from her sat Holo, a chess board between them.

  Normally, she played with Qualen, but Holo was keeping her company while she continued to heal from the shrapnel wound. They’d been spending time together, off and on, since that night with the Bridge and the Sword in the very same room.

  She hadn’t made up her mind if it meant anything, yet...her and Holo.

  When the news program started up, several in the room groaned.

  A few beer cans were pitched at the monitor when the image of the Bridge emerged in full color, her green eyes glowing out of the screen. Nikka looked up at the image, seeing the smoke billowing in the background, remembering how all of them had felt very, very differently, just a few weeks before.

  “Why did she do it?” she blurted aloud, feeling another sharp wave of frustration. She looked at Holo. “Why would anyone do that to their mate? Much less the Sword?”

  Holo shrugged with one hand, moving his bishop to take one of her pawns.

  His golden eyes remained unreadable.

  “They say she has another lover. One of those Adhipan assholes.”

  “Yeah, but why?” Nikka said. “He’s the Sword! He’s her mate, and they’re the same race...” Her mouth firmed. “I don’t care what they say, or what the Sword thinks...no one is that good at pretending, no matter what race they are. I saw the way she looked at him...”

  Holo only shrugged, noncommittal. Nikka knew he didn’t want to question the Sword’s word, but it still bothered her.

  “And anyway,” she said. “...why take someone of a lesser race, when you can be with your own? Why fight something that’s written about in the Myth? It sounds like crap to me...”

  Holo shrugged again with the same hand.

  “They say she’s an unbeliever,” he said.

  “How can she be an unbeliever?” Nikka said. “She’s the Bridge!”

  He only motioned at the board. “Your move, Nikka.”

  Forcing a sigh, she let her eyes follow his gesture, only then noticing that she was losing. Holo had her king backed into a corner, and she’d likely lose her queen in the next round. Muttering a curse, she reached for her rook, when the door opened to the common room.

  Once she saw who it was, she froze, her hand halfway to the piece.

  The old seer only stood there, looking around at all of them.

  “Father Salinse...” she stammered. Fighting her way to her feet along with the others, she held her side, wincing as she bowed deep beside Holo, who was already doing the same. Jax and Qualen bowed as well from by the window.

  “What can we do for you, Father?” Rundo asked, near the door.

  The old seer continued to look around the wide room, his opaque, white irises taking in all of their bent heads. He looked almost like he’d just awakened, Nikka thought...or maybe come out of some kind of deep, meditative state.

  “Is our brother, the Sword, gone?” he said.

  “Yes, sir.” Nikka glanced at Holo, hearing nerves in her own voice. “He is returning, Father...soon.” She bit her tongue briefly. “His wife...the Bridge. He is taking her back to the Seven...”

  Salinse frowned.

  “Why is he doing that?” he said. “Why is he letting her go?”

  Nikka stood there, half bent over, fighting for a good answer as she and the others glanced around at one another, their faces confused.

  “She betrayed him, Father Salinse!” one of the younger seers, named Maike, blurted. “She is unfaithful...so he kicked her out! He did not want her here!”

  The old seer’s frown deepened.

  For a long moment he just stood there, looking around at all of them. Then he clicked softly. The sound seemed to echo in the wide room.

  All of them waited until he finished, breaths held.

  “She has betrayed far more than he knows,” Salinse said, his voice quiet. “We are about to be attacked, my young friends...”

  Nikka straightened slowly, staring at him. The rest of the seers did the same in a ring around the old Sarhacienne. Salinse motioned towards the windows outside.

  “The Lao Hu are here,” he said, his Prexci soft. “They are at the gates as we speak, my children. They are here in force...to kill us, perhaps. Perhaps make us their slaves...”

  Nikka gaped at him. Turning, she ran to the long window that made up one of the common room walls. Staring down over the valley, she felt her throat close when she saw that he was right. Planes covered the small landing strip below the cave leading to their main hangars. She saw figures pouring out of the planes, more seers than she would have thought existed in all of Asia now that the Seven had been dispersed.

  “How is this possible?” It came out in a whisper. She turned to Qualen, who stood next to her now, at the window. “Contact the Sword, now!”

  “We are already trying,” Holo said. His head tilted, his eyes blurred almost flat as he spoke through a split consciousness, working through the Barrier’s construct.

  A moment later, his irises clearly slightly.

  “We cannot get through...they are jamming our transmissions...”

  “Use the Barrier!” she snapped.

  “We have tried that, too, Sister,” he said, his voice terse. “Do you think we would not? We cannot get through...”

  “We cannot beat them,” Salinse said from the door.

  His quiet words caused all of their heads to turn, silencing the murmurs that had broken out across the room as seers unholstered guns.

  “...She has betrayed all of us,” Salinse said, softer. “The Bridge has, I’m afraid, become an enemy to our people.”

  Nikka felt a kind of helpless rage building in her, as she stared out the window, watching the banner of the Lao Hu ripple in the wind below. Watching the figures pour out over the field, making for the inner sanctum of the compound, something in her started to break as she felt the truth of Salinse’s words.

  The Bridge had sold them out.

  She remembered Allie’s face in the helicopter, the look in her eyes as she’d helped them with the sentient machine, targeted the security teams inside the giant room...her fury and grief at the vats once she knew what lived inside their high walls.

  Nikka had trusted her. She’d trusted her so absolutely. At the end of it all, she’d assumed the Bridge herself would lead them. There had already been talk, after that op...that the Sword would take his rightful place at her side, now that he’d fully awakened her to her role.

  Even with this fight of hers with the Sword, Nikka realized...she had assumed it could not last. She assumed Allie would come to her senses, snap out of it in time.

  But Holo was right.

  The Bridge had lied to them.

  She’d been infiltrating them all along. This hadn’t been about her returning to her mate. She’d only pretended to be his mate so she could destroy all of them, selling them to the Chinese seers...clearing the path for the Seven.

  Tears rolled down her fa
ce as she watched more and more seers enter the hangar below the window. Nikka found herself remembering when she’d first met the Sword, when he’d walked through the lines and chosen her for his team when he went to D.C.

  He’d been different then. She hadn’t known who he was, exactly...but she’d trusted him, almost from the start. She’d felt he was someone special, even then.

  She’d been honored, too. Salinse had tasked him to lead the group to rescue the Bridge. She hadn’t known him as the Sword back then, but they all talked, wondering who he might be, given the identity of his mate...given Salinse’s trust of him. Nikka had been so touched, too. He’d done all that for his mate, risked his own life...risked everything for her.

  She herself had grown up without parents, in a work camp outside of Minsk. She’d never had an opportunity for a mate of her own, not under the outdated blood castes of the Seven’s lackeys, the original clan lords.

  Under Syrimne, she’d felt, for the first time, that her life might be different.

  She thought it might be different for all of them.

  She was still leaning against the window in the common room when she heard shouting in the hallway outside. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that the room had already emptied. Qualen had left, along with Holo and Ike and all the others who had been there with her.

  They were probably out there, fighting, where she should be.

  Salinse had left, too.

  They would lose though. They would be captured maybe...or killed.

  Sold to humans. Or go back to work camps, or be slaves of the Seven. But Nikka couldn’t go back to that life. She couldn’t. So when they came for her, she didn’t hesitate.

  She unholstered her sidearm when she heard them in the corridor. Raising the gun to hold it between her hands, she flipped off the safety with her thumb, her eyes on the door.

  She paused to murmur a prayer under her breath. She closed her eyes as she sent it to the Sword with all of her being. She thanked Father Salinse as well, for caring for them all these years.

  She didn’t see the Lao Hu infiltrator when she first entered the room.

  “Put it down!” the seer said in accented Prexci. She raised her gun. Her partner, a male wearing an identical black sash, raised his, too. “Now, traitor! On the floor!”