Allie's War Season Two

by JC Andrijeski

  Following the sound, Chan peered around Maygar’s back to its origins.

  “...Since you are here, perhaps you can do yourself a favor, as well," the voice added. "Help me to persuade him to return the property he stole from me..."

  Chandre's eyes finally came to rest on the male seer who had spoken. Her hearing had not deceived her; he sat almost directly across from the door where they walked in. Looking completely relaxed, he lounged in a scuffed 1970s-style wooden chair with spoke-like decorations at its back. Next to the chair stood a roll-top desk, from roughly the same time period, and a map that covered most of the same wall of Maygar’s rather cluttered studio apartment. The seer’s gray-streaked hair had been pulled back in one of the old wooden clips, in a style the Adhipan used to wear back before the time of first contact.

  That, and the lines in the long face and the depth of his eyes gave her some indication of his age, and it was not young. His deep-set, violet eyes gazed up at her, resting on hers briefly before flickering back to Maygar. He sat with his hands folded in the lap of an organic-enhanced black coat buttoned over his abdomen and chest. The scar that ran from his lips to below one of his eyes gave his face a serious, almost drawn look.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience,” he said emotionlessly, the light behind his voice once more causing Chandre to shiver. “...But I really need my property returned to me. At once. We can discuss the...repercussions...for your rashness, Maygar, once I have the materials in question in hand..."

  Stubbing out a hiri with fingers stained by some dark powder, he clicked in a soft, rolling purr, carrying the Asian accent Chandre knew from other old timers she’d met in the mountains. He looked familiar to her somehow, but she couldn’t place him, even with her seer memory. Whatever caused it, the impression was fleeting, and likely being distorted by the man who returned her gaze.

  Maygar lowered his hands slowly.

  "I would be very careful if I were you, brother," the man said softly.

  "I'm going to get it," Maygar said, blunt. "I need my hands."

  "Proceed."

  Maygar walked over to the small refrigerator on the floor by a sink and a counter mostly taken up by a two-burner, electric coil stove with rusted iron brackets. Chandre watched, frowning slightly, as Maygar began prying off the panel on one side of the fridge, using a small instrument like a miniature crowbar. As he worked, she heard the crackle of minds around her, likely irritated that they hadn't found the hiding place earlier.

  Chandre looked back at the gray-haired seer, swallowing right before she jutted her chin. "What is this thing he took?" she said, forcing her expression still. "If I'm to die for it, should I not at least know its significance?"

  The older seer looked up at her, his eyes holding a kind of tired smile. She wasn’t buying it though, not from a seer of his rank.

  "No one need die today, sister. I have a few questions for your friend, though..." He smiled at her, saying the word 'friend' as if challenging her to disagree.

  She didn't give him the satisfaction.

  "I hear you are in the market for our quarry as well?" the older seer asked politely. "Is that true, sister Chandre?"

  "Can I not at least know your name?" she said, holding that violet gaze with an effort. "Since you know mine, it seems only fair..."

  The seer smiled, and Chandre saw genuine humor in it that time.

  “I am Varlan,” he said simply.

  “And this means...what, to me?” she said.

  “Who I am is immaterial,” he said, dismissing her words with a subtle gesture of his fingers. When she didn’t change expression, he sighed again. “What you really want to know, sister, is who I am working for...and what that job entails. You want to know why someone would need so many infiltrators, if all I am dealing in is intelligence..."

  Chandre glanced at Maygar, who was now pulling something out of the edge of the refrigerator panel. It looked like an organic memory chip, now that her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dim light. One that had been wrapped in plastic to protect it.

  "And?" Chandre said, looking back at Varlan. "Do you intend to elucidate?"

  Varlan sighed again, looking up at her. “You know of the weapon, sister. As I said, we are aware that you have been working in this area, too. For the Bridge, correct?"

  "Actually, no," Chandre said, folding her arms. "For her husband, the Sword – "

  "You can sell that to the boy here," Varlan interrupted smoothly. "I know you are working as a double agent, infiltrating the rebellion. That your handler is Balidor of the Adhipan. You work for the Bridge, sister Chandre..." The smile touched his lips once more. "...Although it is unclear to me if she is aware of that fact. At least not yet."

  Maygar had paused to listen to this exchange, and now his eyes widened, seeming to fill more of his face. They nearly glowed in the dim light of the room.

  "Chan!" he said.

  Chandre winced, unable to avoid hearing the happiness in the younger seer's voice. It was too bad he hadn't yet figured out that they were probably dead. Or why it might not be a particularly good thing that this Rook knew who exactly she really was.

  "...I should have known," Maygar added, still grinning at her as he shook his head. "You're a sly one, Chan...I'll give you that. I actually believed you that you were loyal to that Rook..."

  "I am loyal to that Rook," Chandre said through gritted teeth.

  Maygar grinned wider. “Sure you were. I think I could kiss you, sister Chandre...I really could.”

  “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” she warned, holding up a hand. “And Varlan is right. It wasn’t Allie, it was Balidor. I doubt Allie knows anything about it. He couldn’t risk telling her, given who she is mate to...and especially not with what she has been up to this past year...”

  Still smiling faintly, Maygar shook his head, whistling softly.

  “Chan the man,” he said.

  Chandre couldn't help rolling her eyes, folding her arms in irritation.

  Varlan acted as though Maygar hadn't spoken.

  "Do you deny you are seeking this disease?" he asked Chandre.

  "No," she said. "I do not deny it."

  "Then tell me, Sister Chandre. What do you know about it?"

  She answered promptly, without any attempt to shield her light. "Only that it is said it kills humans very quickly," she said. "That it is supposed to be completely harmless to seers. It is also said that the last human president in this country, Wellington, commissioned to have it developed." Pausing, she added, "One of Terian's bodies...the only human of his personalities that we are aware of."

  She trailed, watching Maygar as he handed the plastic bag with the memory chip to one of Varlan's people. The female seer took it from him, then promptly attached it to a portable VR monitor and laptop. Chandre watched as she brought up the file directory for the chip. Chandre's own eyes shifted to the screen as the female began scanning the chip's contents, including 3-D diagrams, what looked like government documents, at least one map, blueprints. The seer opened each of these in order and scanned them both with her eyes and her aleimi.

  "It's the correct chip," she said, glancing at Varlan after a few seconds.

  "Is everything there?"

  "I'll know in a minute," she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

  Varlan's eyes remained on Chandre.

  "Continue, sister," he told her softly.

  Seeing the frown on Varlan's lips, Chandre gestured in acquiescence, using the deferential version. She already knew that full disclosure was her only real option, with a seer of his rank. Being honest might give him a reason to spare her, if only by avoiding pissing him off. And there wasn't much point in lying...he would get the information from her regardless.

  "Terian...or Feigran, as he is called now...has since given Balidor some intel on this project he commissioned," she added, keeping her words concise, yet accurate. "But the original Terian, Feigran, is easily confused, and not often linear in his thinki
ng. He is reasonably sure he commissioned this thing, but not who he told...or what would happen to this project in the event of Wellington's death. Information retrieved through scans is conflicting, and filled also with hallucinations and other false-memories..." She hesitated, giving a seer's shrug with one hand. "...My sources were unaware if his successor was ever made aware of the disease at all. They seem to feel the project may have been appropriated by other parties, and buried. If it continued to be in play in some form, then they believe that the research, too, has gone underground. I have conducted a search of the government files and relevant facilities, but I have been unable to find trace of it anywhere. At least not in any of the documented labs..."

  Varlan nodded. His expression slid back into the blank mask of a highly ranked infiltrator, but she got the feeling she had satisfied him.

  “The boy knows more than that,” he said in that melodic voice, his eyes shifting back to Maygar. "...What of this new contact?" he said then, focusing his light back on her. "The one your friend told you about...in D.C.?" Varlan exhaled another cloud of dark smoke. "He is Mi5, is he not? British Intelligence...and human?"

  Chandre heard the message behind his words that time, too.

  "I was not withholding, brother," she said, again gesturing respectfully. "I haven't had a chance to follow up on that yet...I only heard of this last night. A contact of mine in SCARB told me of this. She is nominally SCARB, too, but someone I have been working with in an infiltration capacity. She is sympathetic to my employers, but as she often deals in rumors, I don't normally consider her data valid until I have the opportunity to verify..."

  "By employers, you mean Adhipan Balidor?"

  "Yes."

  Varlan nodded again, his expression motionless.

  Chandre found herself thinking that she preferred Balidor's less heavy-handed approach to his working infiltration rank...although she had to admit, Varlan's was more honest. Balidor had mastered the art of appearing to know and hear far less than he did.

  At her thought, she saw a smile touch Varlan's lips.

  "Indeed he has," the seer agreed emotionlessly.

  Chandre hesitated, then said, "Can I know these things, as well?" she said. "This information about the disease that brother Maygar seems to have?"

  Varlan smiled faintly. "What motivation do I have to tell you?"

  "A simple courtesy, brother."

  Varlan nodded, his eyes showing indifference again when they met hers. "Very well. Your friend, Maygar, interfered with a drop-off in progress. In fact, he took intelligence meant for me in the conduct of a paid job...by pretending to be one of my people. The client's messenger has already been dealt with. I am here now for the intel he stole..."

  Chandre turned, staring at Maygar in disbelief.

  Maygar exhaled in irritation, glaring at the seer in the wooden chair. When Chandre clicked sharply at him, he rolled his gaze in her direction, his hands still in the air.

  “I told you I had something to show you,” he muttered.

  “Did you do as he said?” she asked him. "Did you impersonate the contact for the drop?"

  She was actually a little impressed.

  Maygar sighed again. “Not exactly. I was playing poker with a few friends, and the courier, well...he mistook me for his contact." He shrugged a little, glancing at Varlan. "...I just let him, that's all. I didn't even know for sure what it was..."

  Maygar indicated his head towards the VR monitor displaying the contents of the organic chip. Chandre watched as diagrams flashed across the screen, and again what looked like blueprints. She'd seen something like them before...

  "You found the lab," Chandre muttered. She glanced at Varlan. "What will you do with this thing? This disease?"

  "I am under contract," the seer replied. "I will do as I was contracted to do."

  "Which is what?" Chandre said.

  Varlan smiled at her thinly again, not answering. He kept his eyes on hers, exhaling more of that dark, sweet-smelling smoke towards the water-stained ceiling.

  Chandre felt her jaw harden. She was about to try again, when the door to the corridor opened sharply behind them, banging into the wall.

  Light flooded the dim room, momentarily blinding her when she turned at the sound. Holding up a hand, Chandre found herself looking at another seer, likely whoever Varlan had stationed outside to keep a watch over the building's entrance. The new seer was dressed the same as the others, at any rate, in that same organic armor, with the same modified Mossberg with the organic scope. He wore a long coat over the armor though, likely to remain at least nominally inconspicuous outside.

  He held someone else with one hand, gripping his captive's collar tightly with his pale fingers. The man he held balanced precariously on his toes, looking rather like a frightened rodent. The effect was heightened by the human's small frame, as well as his old-fashioned glasses and thinning brown hair.

  Chandre felt another ripple of surprise in her light when Maygar stiffened next to her. She felt the familiarity he aimed towards the seer's captive even before he spoke.

  "Eddard?" His voice grew openly disbelieving. "Eddard, is that really you?"

  The human turned, his eyes confused, probably blind in the relative darkness of the room. One of the seers by the door leaned over and switched on the light, causing most of the seers to raise hands to shield their eyes from the abrupt change. The human seemed more at ease however. He glanced around at faces, until he was staring at Maygar, too.

  "Maygar?" he said. His voice held also bewilderment.

  "Yeah, it's me," Maygar said. "What are you doing here, Eddard?"

  "And yet," Varlan observed, speaking to the human. "You must have expected to find Maygar here." He glanced between the two of them once more. "...It is his dwelling."

  The human glanced at Varlan, and then over at Chandre. His eyes traveled around to the other seers in the room, taking in faces, clothing and weapons. Then he pushed his wire-rim glasses up his nose with one finger on his free hand, swallowing nervously.

  "Are you the contractors?" he asked. "...For the Shadow?"

  There was a silence where every seer in the room stared at the human wearing wire-rimmed glasses. Maygar finally spoke, drawing Eddard's eyes back to him.

  "What are you doing here, Eddard?" Maygar said again.

  Before the human could answer, Varlan seemed to lose his patience. He focused emotionlessly on Maygar, clicking out from where he'd obviously been reading the human, Eddard.

  "You know this worm. Explain."

  "Well, yeah...I mean, sort of." Maygar looked between Varlan and Chandre. His jaw tightened right before he gestured vaguely towards the human. "He used to work for Dehgoies...the Sword. He was like his butler, I think...or maybe some kind of secretary. Dehgoies said the British military hired him partly to keep an eye on him. Before he was the Sword, I mean. He was there when we blew the place up, in London..."

  Incredulous, Chandre looked at the man the seer held. "He is the human who aided you that day? With the explosives?" The captive looked more like a human tax accountant to Chandre than any kind of field operative. "Why would he be here now?"

  "I don't know." Maygar shrugged. "He worked for British Intelligence. Didn't you just say you were looking for someone from British Intelligence...?"

  Varlan nodded, smiling a little. "Perhaps our Mi5 agent has come to find us," he murmured quietly. "Yes," he said, answering an unspoken question from the seer holding Eddard's collar. "Bring him here...but continue your scans..."

  Varlan motioned to the seer at the door as he spoke, indicating for him to bring Eddard closer. The hulking seer at the door tightened his grip on the human's collar before pushing him forward, guiding him past Maygar's queen-sized bed in the middle of the room and to the desk. Chandre saw that the human was wearing what looked like a rain coat over an expensive-looking tailored suit and slacks with polished, Italian-made shoes. Not exactly a normal outfit for this neighborhood, she thought to
herself...nor for British Intelligence.

  "You helped Dehgoies and the Bridge escape from that building in London?" Varlan asked the human evenly. "You defied your human employers. Why?"

  The man Maygar called Eddard looked around at all of them, his blue eyes wide behind the glasses he wore.

  "Yes," he said after a pause.

  "Why?" Varlan repeated.

  Eddard shrugged, his eyes holding a faint embarrassment as he cleared his throat. "It seemed the right thing to do at the time," he said. "I'd worked for Dehgoies Revik for over a decade..."

  "You were friends?"

  "No." Eddard smiled a little at the thought, shaking his head in amusement. "Not exactly. But I knew him a little. I knew he wasn't a terrorist..." Thinking about this, he frowned. "...Well, he wasn't back then, anyway."

  "What are you doing here?" Chandre blurted. "Who are you, that you would be here?"

  Varlan glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, 'who is doing the interrogating here?' But he didn't speak, and when Eddard answered her, he turned politely to listen.

  "It's like he said." He motioned with his head towards Maygar. "I work for Mi5," Eddard added, his voice strained from the hand at his collar. He glanced around at their faces a second time. "...I've been looking for you. For all of you."

  Varlan indicated for the seer to release him.

  Once he did, Eddard rubbed the front of his throat, where the collar had dug into his skin. His face slowly returned to a normal color as he straightened.

  "And?" Varlan said. "Answer our sister's question."

  "I work for Mi5..." Eddard began.

  "You said that. Who are you?"

  "I thought you knew," Eddard said, looking around them. "I'm the one who's here to help put a stop to that disease. The one released in Hong Kong..."

  "You're the contact?" Chandre said, bewildered. "The one Talei told me of?"

  "Yes." Eddard turned, looking at her seriously. "I meant for us to speak directly in D.C....but then news of the contract for the disease came to me. I got the name of the contractor," he added, glancing at Varlan once more. "...but not the client, at least not apart from the code name, 'Shadow.' I was planning to come to New York anyway, when I heard that Maygar had gotten possession of the materials instead..."