Allie's War Season One (157 page)

“I get that,” she said. “I know you guys live half here and half in the Barrier, right? That’s what Allie says, anyway...”

Balidor gestured affirmative. “Yes, that is right. But our aleimi is tied to a particular physical body. Kill the body, and the aleimi has no anchor. We return to the Barrier...the body dies...and so forth.”

“Okay.” Her eyes remained puzzled. “So explain the Feigran thing again.”

Balidor exhaled, rubbing his temples. He glanced at the giant, who was listening to the exchange without comprehension in his eyes.

Balidor focused back on Cass.

“Terian splits his aleimi,” he said. “Originally, Feigran alone contained everything that is now spread across all of those other bodies. He did not create anything new to house in those personalities…he simply divided himself.

“...Inside the Barrier, we seers are made of many different parts. Fragments that each consist of their own structures, traits, abilities…even memories. Terian has found a way to crystallize the different pieces into partial personalities. He breaks his aleimic body, then artificially ties these pieces to different aleimic bodies...that are anchored in different
physical
bodies. This is where the reanimation process gets complicated. He can only use freshly dead bodies, in part because he needs to retain some of the aleimic structure of the original host...”

Seeing from her eyes that he was losing her again, he changed course.

“...But the original...the true,
living
body of Terian...still, of necessity, forms his only real anchor to the physical world. The most complicated part of the process is how he keeps those bodies alive...”

“Yeah.” She waved this part off. “Don’t go into the genetics thing again. It gives me a headache.” She paused, looking up. “But you’re really sure we can kill all of him? If we kill Feigran, I mean?”

“If this Feigran is the original body, then yes.”

“So I guess that explains the putting it in space thing...”

“Yes,” he conceded. “It is the thing that gives me hope of this crazy plan of yours.” Balidor bent over the console once more, reading the symbols. “...But we have no way of knowing what this sequence actually
does,
Cass.”

“What do you
think
it does?”

He shook his head, clicking again softly. “I cannot read this text any more than you can,” he said. “Based on these symbols though...” He pointed to a sequence of pictographs. “...I think it actually brings him back to Earth...”

He scanned more of the text, trying to puzzle it out.

“...It’s this second part I cannot comprehend,” he confessed. “It looks like some kind of failsafe. As best as I can make out, it is saying that this will do something to the other Terian bodies if Feigran were ever to return to Earth. There is no way to tell what...”

Clicking again, he sighed. “For all we know, it will tell them to return to the host body to protect it. We do not even know whether it was Terian who put all of this here, much less what the motive was...”

“Galaith.” Cass looked up, her eyes sharp. “You think it was
Galaith
who built this? As a way to pull the plug on Terian, if he needed to?”

“I don’t
think
it was anyone,” Balidor said.

His voice turned grudging.

“...But it
is
his diary. This could have been built on his instruction...”

“But didn’t Galaith already try to kill Terian once?”

“Yes,” Balidor conceded with a gesture. “But perhaps he hadn’t quite made up his mind to annihilate
all
of him, Cassandra.”

His eyes scanned pictographs once more while she appeared to be thinking about this. After another pause, he clicked to himself in consternation.

“Cass...this is all theory. We cannot read it...” He touched the screen again, but the new sequence didn’t illuminate anything. “In any case, it is too risky to tamper with this. It could be some kind of weapon, or—”

“Weapon?” she said, looking up. “You’re kidding, right?”

“We do not know what contingencies Terian himself might have in place—”

“Bullshit!” Cass said. “He has
Allie,
Dori’! Revik could die, going after her. So could Jon. Most of the seers are already dead. I
promised
I’d try to help them!”

Looking at her, Balidor hesitated. He had to admit she had a point.

“It is possible,” he said, cautious. “...only possible, mind you...that the mechanism for keeping his aleimi in discrete pieces has something to do with the container for the original body in space. If that were the case, this could be a warning that if we brought Feigran down, then the other bodies will die...”

He shrugged with one hand.

“...Dehgoies told me once that Galaith kept a close eye on Terian. He knew how unstable Terian was. It could be, if Galaith did this, that he created this failsafe as a way to bring him down. In the event he needed to.”

He caught Cass’ eye. When the human burst out with a wide smile, he couldn’t help but join her.

“All right,” he admitted. “The prospect is intriguing.”

“You want to do it?” she said, squeezing his arm. “Or should I?”

Balidor chuckled, in spite of himself.

“Now?”

“Why wait?” she grinned.

Smiling at her in return, he touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. He didn’t think about what he was doing until he felt the Wvercian’s light react in a burst of possessive irritation. Glancing up at the frowning Wvercian, Balidor removed his fingers, clearing his throat.

He looked directly at Cass, folding his arms.

“I think it is yours to do, Cassandra,” he said.

He watched her pore over the symbols. If she’d seen the male posturing, she didn’t let it show. He smiled faintly at the concentration on her face as she fingered in the sequence they’d uncovered.

Once she had, another set of instructions flashed on the screen.

“What do you suppose this means?” she said.

Balidor leaned over where she sat, looking at the line of flashing text. Reaching out with his sight, he did his best to work through the symbols, using his seer’s photographic memory to compare them to others he’d seen in the book. As he did, he felt something deep in his chest begin to relax. Reading the whole thing a second time, he glanced down at Cass, smiling in spite of himself.

“Well, my friend,” he said. “I believe this is what you were looking for.”

“Meaning what?” she said, frowning deeper.

With her face only a few inches away, he found himself looking at her again, re-discovering the fact that she really was an exceptionally attractive human.

Seeing her returning grin, he realized he hadn’t been quite as subtle as he’d intended. Clearing his throat, he turned, tapping the screen.

“It is asking us if we wish to ‘consolidate Feigran’...”

“Consolidate?” She frowned again. “What does that mean?”

When he only smiled, understanding reached her coffee-colored eyes. Slowly, a kind of dim hope flashed across her face.

“Could it really be that easy?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. Shall we experiment...?”

Laughing, she clasped his hand. Balidor once more felt a swell of irritation from the watching Wvercian.

That time, he didn’t care.

30

REINTEGRATION

I STOOD IN the trees, outside the long corridor on the south side of the East Wing of the White House. I didn’t let myself think too clearly about where I was, or the surreal quality of seeing it empty of people, but for the occasional uniformed figure I glimpsed darting from one lit segment to another. I saw another man’s lips moving as he communicated through a headset, then he was gone, too.

He’d been clutching some kind of automatic weapon.

I tried not to think about that, either.

We hadn’t been able to find him. The others wanted to leave, and I could hardly blame them. The East Wing was ablaze in lights. I’d heard the sporadic sound of automatic gunfire in several parts of the lawn-covered grounds to the south. People moved in erratic formations across the grass, some running in SWAT-like military uniforms, probably everything from SCARB to the FBI and Secret Service.

Most of them had been human so far, so easy to side-step.

Even so, I was growing increasingly nervous at what I could hear on the streets outside the White House gates.

If it wasn’t a shooting war yet, it would be soon.

Even as I thought it, Tobias handed me his headset, signaling for me to listen. Once I had it situated around my ear, sound seemed to explode into my mind, difficult to think past well enough to even make out the words at first.

“…and it is now confirmed, a terrorist attack is taking place on the White House, as we speak…”

Visuals eclipsed my view of the darkened grounds, forcing me into the sharply lit newsroom of the feed broadcasters. I glimpsed the gold hair of the newscaster, Donna, who I’d met in the Oval Office. Next to her sat an African-American man wearing a grim expression under furrowed brows. I only got the faintest glimpse of their faces before the sound of firing rose in the headset.

In the foreground, an image rose of military personnel covering the mall area of the city. A shootout was taking place between dark-clad figures and what looked like police in another corner of the same screen. A third image showed at least thirty more soldiers wearing the black Sweeps uniform of the military branch of Seer Containment or SCARB, running alongside an equal number of marines as they breached the White House grounds.

They wore so many weapons and organic arms that I couldn’t quite see them as real.

The male newscaster’s voice shocked my ears once again.

“…They haven’t yet pinpointed the exact source of the attacks, but there is no doubt that renegade seers are involved, as at least four have been caught in the course of the initial fighting. Several more were seen shooting out of the first floor of the White House itself, and now are rumored to have the Vice President hostage upstairs…”

The man’s brown eyes seemed to meet mine through the VR space. I couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like in real life.

“…The President, however, was removed from his residence by Secret Service, and brought to a safe location along with most of his cabinet and a number of his staff and advisors. He will be making a statement to the media once the situation at the White House is secure, but at this time had only one message to us, and that was one of resolve. He said, and I quote, ‘tell them, we will do whatever is necessary to ensure that the culprits do not succeed in their aims to destabilize our great nation...’”

A dramatic pause.

“…Donna? You have an update?”

The blond reporter smiled, her voice holding a false outrage that barely concealed the thread of excitement underneath.

“We just now have the news that the terrorist, Alyson May Taylor, appears to have
escaped custody
as a part of this attack by the seers. Using their powers to mind-control the human secret service, as well as the Pentagon security team assigned to watch over her while she was being debriefed, a terrorist cell of seers appears to have broken into the underground bunker where she was being kept, underneath the White House itself. It now appears that her release may have been the purpose of this attack…”