Allie's War Season One (151 page)

Revik himself might have been here often, if he’d made a different choice earlier in his life. In fact, he likely would have been on Galaith’s staff.

A guard approached, peered inside, then stepped out of the way of the car’s door, motioning for him to exit the vehicle.

Revik snapped the door’s latch and slid over on the seat.

He stepped his full weight onto his good leg, then rose in a single motion. They’d padded his shoes to change his gait; it was the limp he had to watch. He hit his hurt leg hard as he stepped forward with the other, distributing his weight evenly. Sliding between the other three infiltrators as they left the car behind him, he exuded boredom with his light, winking at the guard when the man seemed to be looking at him too closely.

Frowning, the human averted his gaze.

Like Revik, the other three infiltrators’ records were made to match the bone structure, light markers and facial features of three specific seers from the same house. Unlike him, they’d done all of this by falsifying records, and without wearing prosthetics. It minimized the chances of being caught if fewer of them were relying on organics to fool the scanning equipment. Besides, there was no reason any of the other three would be sought out by security.

Still, there was some risk. Terian might be aware of his contacts in the States. But the likelihood that he would be monitoring any of the security feeds himself was pretty slim, no matter how many bodies he had. And anyway, the plan was to delay discovery, not prevent it entirely.

All three of them wore expensive suits, their sight-restraint collars the thin, lightweight variety easy to miss in a casual glance...a casual glance from a human, anyway. Revik knew the facade wouldn’t fool anyone who actually worked there, seer or human.

He kept his light focused on the imprint of the unwilling’s he was mimicking.

Their clothes, hair and general appearance kept most of the humans they passed in the corridors from looking at them too closely. At least two Revik saw noticed the collars, but they didn’t react apart from a slight double-take. One glanced at a colleague, raising an eyebrow. Apparently most of the staff were well aware of the tastes of some of the higher-ups.

And the women got looks, of course.

The most nerve-wracking part was psychological rather than due to any specific threat. Walking past the visitor’s entrance on the east side of the main building, he found it difficult not to stare around at various parts of the structure as they entered the center hall, passing by some of the more famous of the ground floor rooms. The foot traffic immediately increased as well, and he noticed the addition of at least three more humans watching them from the sides, unobtrusively of course, but clearly Secret Service, and armed.

Revik kept his eyes down, focused on the man leading them, like the guards had instructed them at the gate. Even so, he noticed things. Details of the interior. A door here, a set of windows there, a passageway he tied to one segment of the map or another in his head. He hadn’t been well versed in the layout of the building before he started this op, but he recognized paintings, glimpses of carpet runners and stair landings, the placement of windows and walkways.

He had to rely on his physical eyes and ears, of course. He wore a mock-up of a collar that exuded Barrier interference rather than a true block of his sight, but even a casual scan wouldn’t go unnoticed in here. He could feel the construct shields in random touches of his light, and they were dense, multi-layered.

Even so, the team outside should be able to feel him.

They reached the other side of the center hall, past the two porticos, and he felt himself relax slightly. He could smell the kitchen, so he knew they were getting close to the elevator, which the unwilling had told him was the only way he’d ever reached their destination on the second floor.

It was time to throw up a flare...a small one anyway. Give them something by which to gauge the passage of time on his end.

He entered the elevator with the other two seers and folded his hands at the small of his back, whistling softly.

Raspberries,
he thought clearly, letting a whisper of hunger join the word.

He let his mind wander, sliding back into the boredom of the unwilling, thinking about what he would do afterwards, if he and his friends would get high and watch old movies while they came down from the stims the client would want him to do to jack up their reactions to one another.

He let himself think about the client as well, what kind of mood he might be in...how many others might be there.

As he let the thought form, he glanced at Tobias, one of Wreg’s men posing as another unwilling. He was the only one of Wreg’s team who seemed to be able to mimic the light markers of a pro, at least to the appropriate degree. They’d sold him as a newbie to the client, which of course intrigued him.

Revik shrugged subtly with one hand.

“Ten dollars it’s four,” he said.

“Twenty,” Tobias countered. “...And dinner.”

The guard glanced at them, allowing a faint smile.

“He knows something,” Revik said. “How many?”

The guard shrugged, human fashion, but the smile remained on his face. “I don’t know how you icebloods do it...honestly.”

“Come on,” Kat smiled, from the other side. She touched his arm, letting a tendril of her light snake out, wrapping around his leg. “Come with us,” she murmured. “I’ll show you...since you’re so curious.”

The guard glanced down, letting his eyes travel deliberately over her body. She, like Ullysa, wore a form-fitting, tailored suit. He raised an eyebrow.

“Not in the slightest,” he said flatly.

Even so, Revik felt the man reacting to her. He had to fight not to step away from where they stood. Keeping it off his face, he looked the human over too, giving Tobias a sideways smile.

“You work for them year-round,” Revik joked. “We’re here a few hours. Who’s the crazy one?”

“Don’t tease him, Lewellyn,” Ullysa said, touching Revik’s arm.

Tobias laughed, but the guard’s mouth tightened just before he shook his head. He smiled at the joke, but stepped deliberately away from Kat, giving Ullysa a look that lasted a little longer.

He didn’t talk to them again.

The elevator reached the top floor, then stopped for a security scan.

That one took longer. As he waited, Revik felt his light contract sharply around his form. He was reacting to her again. It could be in his head. He couldn’t feel her exactly, but he could feel
something
...like catching a scent that was faint, wholly dependent on wind. It was maddening, and he realized he was sweating. He forced his light deeper into the mobile construct, seeking the cold stability of the silver light. He was having a physical reaction, too.

He realized suddenly that the other seers were focused on him...in more ways than one.

Christ. She was here. He knew it suddenly, in his whole body...she was in this building somewhere. Thinking about it sent another ripple through his light, strong enough that Ullysa laid a hand on his arm.

“Llewellyn,” she said softly. She waited for him to turn his head. “Honey, did you take anything?”

Hesitating, he shuffled his feet, folding his hands. Following her cue, he muttered a low response. “Not much.”

“D’gaos, Llewe,” she said in her soft voice. “What were you thinking?”

He didn’t answer, but let a flavor of annoyance flare his light.

“He won’t mind.”

“We’ll see if Jo says the same,” she murmured.

His hunter cloak wavered, then kicked back in. He squeezed Ullysa’s fingers in a silent thanks. He kept the forward part of his mind off Allie, but a second train whispered in the background, hopefully too quiet for the construct to pick up.

They wouldn’t have her up here. She’d be in the basement somewhere...if on the grounds at all. The plan hadn’t changed. It was still the best way to get them to come to him...

The doors let out a soft ping, and slid open.

Standing on the other side was a human in his late 60s, with a white head of hair. He grinned when he saw Revik, then glanced at the other three.

Revik bowed, formal seer fashion, as he might do to Vash...or any in the Council of Seven. The human loved the ceremony, mannerisms and turns of phrase of formal seer culture, despite his ignorance of their correct context. The bow Revik had just performed belonged in a monastery, not a government building...but the man had no clue as to the significance of any of it.

The real Llewelyn had simply experimented with fragments of seer culture until he figured out what was suitably dramatic for the old man’s tastes.

“Hello, Mr. Vice President,” Revik said. “You are looking fine this evening.”

“Come here, my boy!” the human said, holding out his arms.

Revik walked into them without hesitation. He gave the old human a hug.

The man immediately looked down, and his grin widened.

“You missed me, Lou?” he said.

“Of course, sir,” Revik said, smiling a little.

“Well, then...bring your friends. Come inside...”

Revik barely spared the others a glance before following the old human, his hands folded formally in front of his body. Again, right posture...wrong setting. It might have been funny if the format wasn’t so predictable.

He’d played such games himself, although with a bit more respect for the religious forms, perhaps. All his life he’d been forced to accommodate humans curious about and who liked to dabble in seer culture, style, language, manner, art, religion...and especially their sexuality. Even so, he was nervous. Nervous in a way he hadn’t been for this kind of work since he’d first started.

He wouldn’t have to fuck the old man. Travers was a voyeur, and impotent. If he knew more, he’d probably be dangerous, but as it was, he was a relatively benign form of the sub-category who got off watching seers being together. He knew only the basics of seer physiology and psychology, and nothing but the human-held theories of their aleimi. There were those who knew enough about separation pain and the bonds of mates to be full-blown sadists in their kink.

Anyway, being uncollared in the White House was out of the question for security reasons. Under normal circumstances, that protected the seers somewhat, too.

Clearly Travers felt safe indulging here, due to the layers of security from outside eyes and a discrete nod from Terian. From a seer’s perspective, though, the human had an odd idea of “safe,” given that every seer in the construct could see and hear everything he was doing. There was no way around it, really, due to the necessities of keeping the space open to maintain it from outside encroachment. Terian obviously wanted the insurance, in case Travers stepped out of line.

He certainly had that by now. Despite the ban on imaging devices inside the White House itself, every seer inside the construct had an unparalleled view of Travers’ “parties.” Travers seemed oblivious to this, or, more likely, he didn’t care. Like most humans, seers didn’t really factor into his thinking around privacy, only other human beings. Seers became dangerous only when they worked for someone else...someone who might expose him to other humans.

Or, more importantly in his case, the human media.

Anyway, he was too afraid of disease and pain to want contact himself. His fears weren’t wholly unjustified, either. The few diseases that seers could sexually transmit to humans were deadly as hell...to humans. The most common of these, the seers called “white blindness” in Prexci; it could kill a human in as quickly as a few days. For seers themselves, it could be a rather tenacious virus, but only deadly in extreme cases, similar to pneumonia in humans.

Seers didn’t suffer from as many problems in that area for a number of reasons. If they could have caught any of the more serious human varieties of STD, they’d probably be extinct by then. As it was, they mainly had to worry about parasites of various kinds and infections, particularly if the client (or owner, or rapist) was unclean, or liked to hurt them.

They entered the room.

Revik took in the five humans who waited for them. Dressed as if for a cocktail party, they sat on chairs not far from a white marble fireplace with a fire burning high in the grate, on the opposite side of a low coffee table covered with a tray of glasses, along with several bottles of hard alcohol and two ice buckets. They stared at the four seers in open curiosity.