Allie's War Season One

by JC Andrijeski

  Wellington’s team went out through the upper basement, taking a set of bulletproof SUV limousines to a safe location on the other side of town. The bunker-like facility, housed under another fifteen feet of solid concrete, reinforced steel, the gaze of a few dozen of their best seers...and, of course, a small nuclear arsenal at their immediate disposal...remained virtually impregnable.

  He didn’t have long to wait now. He could feel it.

  Whatever else, he knew a few bombs wouldn’t discourage his old friend, not if he were feeling motivated...which Terian had no doubt he was by now.

  He heard the beep through his implants when the elevator hit the bottom floor, smiled when he saw the stats of the car’s occupant. Lighting a hiri, he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the old-growth redwood table and crossing his ankles.

  Ashing on the White House floor, even in the technically nonexistent underground compartments, gave him a perverse sort of thrill, even now.

  He waited until he felt him heading in his direction. Then he sent out a ping with his light, letting him know exactly where he was.

  He was still leaning back in his chair, a drink in hand, when Dehgoies walked into the room, gun held out in front of him. He entered slowly, checking the corners, moving from a combat crouch. He still limped, of course, his leg not fully healed from the gunshot wound a few weeks back, but his essential grace remained intact. His face appeared focused, emotionless, but Terian found himself smiling anyway. He held out his arms half in surrender, half in affection.

  He knew the look in those eyes again.

  For the first time in over fifty years, he could see his friend.

  “You killed the boy?” he said.

  He heard the triumph in his own voice.

  Dehgoies didn’t answer, but Terian grinned anyway, holding his arms wider.

  “Don’t shoot, pardner,” he said. “I surrender.”

  Revik shifted the aim of the gun.

  He fired before Terian could blink.

  The force of the shot caught Terian off-guard, particularly from such a small gun. It knocked his leg off the table, making him question the wisdom of propping his legs in the first place. It nearly threw him out of the chair.

  He gasped, gripping his thigh, staring at the blood squeezing between his fingers. The Elaerian had hit him in the leg...the same leg and the same place Terian had ordered his men to shoot him a few weeks back.

  Despite the force of the shot, the bullet remained in his flesh.

  “You want to fuck with me right now?” Revik said. “Really? That seems like a good idea to you?”

  “Wait!” Terian held up his other hand. “Dehgoies...my friend. Calm yourself, please. I can explain...”

  “You can explain.” The light eyes turned predatory, threaded with a violence that stood on the surface. “You can explain stealing my wife. Beating her…raping her. Explain that to me, Terry...I dare you...”

  “I knew who you were,” the Scandinavian said. He spoke quickly, before the Elaerian could shoot again. “Don’t you see? I knew. I was trying to help you, Dehgoies. I knew you wouldn’t get there on your own...”

  Revik pointed the gun at his face.

  “Gee,” he said. “Thanks, Terry.”

  “I suspected the truth...not long after I found the boy.” Terian held his hand higher, a plea for peace. “It was subtle at first...but there was just too much of you in him...too many freakish, Dehgoies-like similarities to count. I found some of the blood of the original Syrimne, which helped...”

  Seeing that the other seer was listening to him at least, he lowered his hand, long enough to take another fast drink of scotch.

  “...Then I realized why I knew him so well...what had happened to the Revi’ I once knew.” He pursed his lips. “You know...my best friend? The one those fucking Seven assholes murdered to ‘save his soul?’ When Galaith and Vash made their little pact...hell, they already had the boy. They’d created him and locked him in that mountain. They’d buried fucking Syrimne in that dungeon, a being who did nothing but fight for our people. What kind of gratitude is that?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Revik said.

  But Terian saw it in his face.

  He was listening. At least some of this was sinking in.

  He shrugged with his free hand, his eyes flat.

  “So they had the boy already,” he repeated. “I guess they figured, why not use him to bury my friend, Revi’ the Rook, as well? So they put you there, too. They left you there, in that little rat-boy body...to rot, I guess.”

  Revik rearranged his hand on the gun. “A little far-fetched, Terry.”

  “Is it? Do you know it’s impossible to truly destroy a memory, Revi’? That there is no way to wipe a mind of its past? Oh, you can do it temporarily of course…through trauma, drugs, even suggestion. But you can’t really get rid of it.” He took another drink of alcohol. “…The only way to be sure, Revi’…the only way to be really really sure, is to cut the offending part of the aleimi out. To put it somewhere else.” He paused.

  “…Do you really think Galaith would have let you go, if there was any chance you could retrieve the memories he and the Seven stole from you?”

  Revik’s jaw hardened, but Terian saw him thinking still.

  “You remember now, don’t you, Revi’?”

  The other seer’s eyes grew opaque, but Terian saw enough there to know he’d been right.

  His smile widened.

  “You do. I can see that you do. That is good, Revi’. That is most excellent…”

  “You’re full of shit, Terry,” Revik said. “You always were. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but—“

  “Game? This is no game, I assure you! I am deadly serious, my friend! Are you not listening to me? You are whole once more!”

  Revik stared at him, his pale eyes lamp-like.

  “You still don’t believe me?” Terian said. “Then why don’t you explain to me how that little shit knew so much about your wife, Revi’...given that he’d been buried underground since before she was born? Explain how she was able to do telekinesis with no training, simply from being your mate. Do you know the first time she displayed this ‘random’ talent of hers, Revi’? Well…do you?”

  “Yes,” Revik said.

  “And nothing about the timing of that struck you as interesting, Revi’?” He paused, watching the other seer’s face. “Well, here’s a hint. She was seven years old. What else happened when she turned seven, Revi’?”

  Revik’s jaw hardened. “I was assigned to her.”

  “Yes...you were. And now explain to me how the boy was able to find you, no matter where you were, no matter how tightly shielded you were by the Adhipan or whoever else? I was thrilled when he seemed to be able to pick you out so easily, but after awhile I started to wonder...”

  Revik glanced behind him, still holding the gun on Terian. His colorless eyes looked harder though. Looking at him, Terian could see it. There was understanding there, anger, recognition, but also a refusal to believe. He was struggling with the integration, having trouble keeping his thoughts linear.

  He likely also couldn’t fully see the newer elements as his own, not yet. Such a thing would take time, and a fair bit of power struggling between the various elements.

  It was a process with which Terian had some measure of familiarity.

  Revik motioned at Terian with the gun.

  “Keep talking.”

  “Surely you must have guessed by now!” Terian said. He gripped his leg to slow the flow of blood, even as he continued to study Dehgoies’ light.

  “Guessed what?”

  “You are Syrimne, my friend!”

  There was a pause. Then Revik let out a harsh laugh.

  “Jesus. This is pathetic even for you, Terry. You planted that crap! You want me to believe it.” His jaw hardened, even as grief plumed off his light. “...You want Allie to believe it.”

  Terian smi
led though, seeing something else in the other’s light.

  “Ah, you do know. That is reassuring. I had worried with the number of times they’ve ripped out parts of your mind and filled the holes with talks of virtue and singing birdies that there’d be nothing of your mind left...”

  “Fuck you.” He gripped the gun tighter. “I should kill you right now...”

  “I don’t blame you for the latter sentiment. And,” he smiled. “I’d be willing to entertain the former, certainly...from what I saw, you put on quite a show up there. Are you sure you’re up for it, though, after all that?” He smiled wanly.

  “...Are you sure she is? It was pretty touch and go there for a minute, wasn’t it? Very exciting. I almost thought she would kill you...”

  Seeing the doubt cross Revik’s face, mixed with a tighter expression, Terian chuckled.

  “Put the gun down, Dehgoies. You know I am telling the truth. You are Syrimne. You always were...and I have far too much to tell you about yourself for you to want to kill me now.”

  Revik hesitated. Anger remained prominent in his eyes. Anger and that thread of disbelief mixed with something that edged closer to understanding, even a whisper of relief...and Terian found himself smiling at that, too.

  “It’s comforting, knowing who we really are,” Terian said, his voice soft. “Isn’t it, my friend? It explains so much.”

  Revik stared at him. For a moment, he seemed like he wanted to answer, then didn’t. Lowering the gun to his side, he didn’t put it down.

  “Are you working with Salinse?” he said.

  “Salinse? That kook in the mountains? Heavens no.”

  “He told me to kill the boy,” Revik said. “He was pretty clear about it. Made it the price of getting access to his people.”

  “Ahh.” Terian smiled. “Yes, that makes sense. I imagine you will have your pick of offers now, Revi’. Permit me to caution you to choose wisely, my friend...”

  Terian poured himself another glass of scotch, hoping it would dull the pain in his leg, at least. Pouring a second glass for Dehgoies, he slid it expertly across the table. The glass stopped within a few feet of where Revik’s hand hung by his side. The Elaerian only stared at it, then back at Terian, his gaze flat, despite the whispers of conflict Terian could still see on his face.

  Then he let out a short laugh.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. You think I’m going to drink with you? You really are monumentally crazy, Terry. You stole my wife...then you nearly killed her. What part of that isn’t quite getting through to you?”

  “I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  “You’re thinking wrong.” Revik raised the gun, pointing it at Terian’s head. “Anything you think you can tell me, I’m sure Salinse knows more...and he didn’t rape my wife...or chain her to a fucking floor so some messed up kid could feel her up every night.” Swallowing, he cocked the gun. “Salinse even held up his end of the bargain...strictly speaking.”

  Terian raised up his hand.

  “Don’t assume he’s got your best interests at heart, Revi’! Don’t assume that for a second! Who the hell do you think bombed Seertown?” He waited for that much to sink in, for the Elaerian to be listening to him once more. “He has his own agenda...and I can pretty much guarantee it’s a more radical one than mine...”

  “I don’t care,” Revik said, still holding up the gun.

  “Yes, you do,” Terian said. “We could work together, Revi’...”

  “Little late for that.”

  “Come on, Revi’! Think about it! You don’t remember it all yet, but you will. That bastard Menlim treated you like shit. Whatever else may have happened, you and I...we were friends once. I would never have done that to a friend! Not unless I was trying to help him! And I did help you, Revi’! The boy would have killed you for sure, if I hadn’t intervened!”

  Revik shot him in the other leg.

  Terian gasped, sliding deeper in his chair. Blood turned his other pant leg swiftly dark.

  That couldn’t be good, how fast that happened.

  The patch began to spread. He stared at the widening stain, then up at the other seer.

  Revik shrugged. “You shouldn’t have fucked my wife.”

  “You know full well why I did it!”

  Revik shot him in the arm, just above the elbow. The force of that blast ripped the muscles apart, shattering bone. Terian slumped in the chair. He looked for the scotch, but his glass was now on the floor. Scotch and water soaked into the carpet. Terian watched, strangely disappointed.

  “I don’t much care why, Terry,” Revik said.

  “Revi’! Wait! Don’t kill me yet, I—”

  But before Revik could shoot him again, or Terian could tell him what he wanted him to wait for...everything went dark.

  There was no warning.

  He didn’t even get a last breath.

  All he did was exhale the one before it, his eyes locked open as he stared at the ceiling. His aleimi vacated the corpse of the Scandinavian seer he’d purchased for almost a million Euros from that sucker slave trader in Estonia, raping him shortly after and killing him dead for the use of his corpse.

  As he left, Terian found himself observing the room from the Barrier.

  Dehgoies lowered the gun, a puzzled expression on his face as he stared at the blond corpse. He walked forward, prodding the inanimate vessel with one hand, checking the pulse with his fingers.

  Terian saw him look up.

  Shortly after, he found he could hear a shrill sound.

  The noise wound higher in even circles, like an air raid siren.

  Then Terian realized that was exactly what it was...an air raid siren.

  But it didn’t matter to him anymore.

  He was gone...back to the mainframe for downloading in another body, in another part of the world, or perhaps in the bunker where Xarethe and Wellington crouched right now, playing backgammon as they watched the news reports about seers attacking the White House and the military being mobilized.

  Or so he thought.

  Turns out, he was wrong about that.

  31

  SYRIMNE

  HE STOOD INSIDE the elevator, watching the numbered lights ping as he rose slowly through over ten stories of basement floors under the White House’s main structure.

  His mind was blank.

  No, not blank.

  He could feel her again, but he was afraid of her still, afraid of what he would find if he sought out her light.

  She would hate him now.

  He stared through walls, reading organics, using his recall of the structure’s blueprints, matching it against what the living machines told him as he listened with his light. He remembered this too...speaking to the creatures that lived in the walls, knowing their language well enough that it scarcely felt like hacking. The machines spoke to him eagerly, without restraint. They showed him all of Terian’s back doors and rat holes. Most of those were irrelevant now.

  Impact concussions trembled the elevator car as it rose. He surfed those too, hands held at his sides, his mind clicking in and out of different parts of the construct.

  He felt emotion there. He knew it as his.

  Allie’s face as she stared at his body, the deadened look in her eyes as she took it all in, right before her knees buckled.

  He’d felt her heart close.

  Hate wasn’t the right word. He hadn’t earned hate; he discerned not a single ripple of true emotion in her light. No feeling of anger. Nor any hurt or grief. It was just over. He’d ceased to exist.

  Those moments she hadn’t looked at him...

  He saw a cement and organic cage, her bare back and legs, the tangle of her hair, her green eyes shining in the half-dark. He’d wanted her. He’d even considered forcing her, more than once. He’d been so sure she would like it once he had. It seemed so unfair, to be judged as unfit when he’d wanted her so badly...when he’d asked her so many times...when he’d exercised
so much restraint. Even the collar turned him on, but he’d wanted it off too, so badly he had to remind himself that she wouldn’t stay with him if he freed her, not yet.

  Maybe not ever, now that that bastard had his hooks in her…

  Confusion rippled his mind, but the other resurfaced, stronger than the rest. It was maddening, having her so near but not being able to feel her.

  She was like a blank doll, staring without seeing him.

  Pain wracked his light. This was Allie he was thinking about. Allie he’d seen chained...Allie he’d considered raping...

  She’d tried to trick him...lied to him. She didn’t want him.

  She wanted that son of a bitch who locked him up, instead...

  Confusion filled his light.

  She’d refused the boy, knowing Terian would rape her for her refusal. Why had she let that happen? Had she liked it? Was it possible?

  No. He’d beaten her, too. He nearly killed her.

  He said he’d done it for a reason, but not a single reason came to Revik’s mind that made any sense to him, not even in terms of Terry.

  His friend, Terry. He’d stolen his wife…raped her.

  He gripped the elevator wall. He couldn’t believe how bad everything hurt; he’d never had separation pain like this, not even as a kid, in the mountains. He could feel that his body had had sex, a lot of it, and recently...it didn’t help.

  He’d waited for her. For goddamned years, he’d waited. They’d promised him that he wouldn’t have to be alone. They promised him, taught him all the ancient texts. They showed him how they said all the same things, that he wouldn’t be alone, not once she came. They said she would recognize him, too.

  They said she belonged with him.

  He had to find her. He couldn’t let her go. She was raised human, she wouldn’t understand; he would have to help her. But he had to get out of there first. She wouldn’t have waited...Salinse’s people wouldn’t have let her. They’d want her safe.

  And anyway, why would she wait for him now?

  The humans would be waiting, though. Terian’s people, too. His aleimi sought out opportunities, weapons. That part of him felt comfortable...working in that space, doing what it had always done...better than he had ever done anything else. Hunting was easy, uncomplicated. Combustible gases, broken piping, liquid fuel, wooden pieces of wall and curtains like tinder already burning, residual powder, exposed wiring...he’d seen fireplaces in the plan...there had been gas somewhere, too...maybe the kitchen.