Allie's War Episodes 1-4(162)

I watched uncomprehendingly as gravity began to take its toll only a few hundred feet from the roof where we perched.
Rising abruptly to his feet, Revik withdrew towards the small stairwell, motioning the others back towards the access door even as I heard the crash and grind of metal and glass. I still sat there, numb, as the two helicopters completed their falls, smashing down into whatever had the misfortune of lying on the street below.
I could feel the seers inside the cockpits, dying.
I was still standing there when someone grabbed my arm, dragging me towards the open metal door. I didn’t realize until then that they’d all gone inside, that I was out there alone. When I glanced back at Maygar’s face, he only yanked on my arm harder, his eyes and mouth exuding impatience.
With a last look at the sky, I retreated back indoors with the rest of them, even as the jets’ trails flashed by in tandem overhead.



Inside the Barrier, winds whip, throwing to and fro the lit strands of billions of interconnected beings.
The height of the Pyramid stands over London, bending and crushing living lights as members of the Org, the Brotherhood...the Rooks...dive in and out of buildings, through lights and connections, in and out of military and paramilitary and homeland security agents for three different nations. SCARB ran operations by now, even over the local authorities...and even over the Sweeps, their more bureaucratic counterpart tasked with enforcing the Human Protection Act. Both departments had more seers than humans in their ranks these days, of course, but even the human authorities wanted that fact kept from civilians.
Human beings could be so reactionary, after all.
Above the mass of uniforms, vehicles and weapons, two light bodies stand alone, watching.
One directs no small part of the larger organism.
He does this in the background, using pieces of his mind and light that no longer need to pull from the bulk of his waking consciousness.
The other, standing next to him, is his oldest friend.
She’s shielded, Xarethe comments. Likely by Elan’s boy, Maygar. Or those kneelers back in Asia. Maybe even by Dehgoies himself, by now...
You are sure that Dehgoies is here? Galaith says.
Her only answer is a shrug as she stares out over darting forms.
He is alive, then, Galaith breathes, unable to hide his relief. Terian only took him from me. Likely to use him to get what he’s after...
The other seer doesn’t answer.
Both of them watch as drones weave a dense, Barrier structure over the tall, white building, focusing primarily on the top floor. The net will push the Seven out. It will keep any out who might try to help them from the Barrier. They will tackle Dehgoies’s construct, following that. Everything done by the Org is systematic, by the numbers.
It is the reason they are so rarely taken by surprise.
Xarethe asks, Isn’t it more of a risk, to kill her now? What if she simply returns? She studies Galaith’s light through the Barrier’s dark. We could bring her in alive now. Dehgoies, too. If we have her mate, she will have little choice but to cooperate with us. We could use her to bring the war when we’re ready. On our own terms...
Galaith smiles wryly. You are assuming this war can be controlled. War can rarely be controlled my friend...and a Displacement even less so than most. His light follows the swarm of drones. And anyway, the Bridge and Alyson are not precisely the same creature. Beneath her surface personality there exists a drive...a pre-programming, if you will. It is very difficult to persuade such an influence. She is not the Bridge so much as possessed by it.
...Still, he shrugs, gazing back out over the cloak woven by his drones. She was the first choice to fulfill this role. That does mean something.
Xarethe thinks about his words. Can it be stopped? In your opinion, Protecting Shield...is it able to be restrained?
Galaith nods slowly in return, pensive. Yes. I think so.
And Dehgoies?
Galaith chuckles. Ah, Dehgoies. What will we do with him? The smile turns affectionate. He deserves partial credit for all of this... He extends a hand over the cloud of drones. But Terian was wasting his time. It was not a temporary shield that we put on Dehgoies’s mind when he left...we broke him entirely.
He sighs, exuding pale light in a fountain.
He is purely an invention of the Seven now. More dead than alive...at least in relation to that which he once was. No... he says almost regretfully. We have nothing to fear in him, old friend.
Xarethe doesn’t answer.
Peace, Galaith says. It requires constant work, yes? His dark eyes burn like coals. ...I want no more talk of Displacements, or prophesied wars.
And Terian? she ventures. He is one of the Four, is he not?
Galaith’s eyes flash as he turns.
He is, he says, watching her face. Does that surprise you, old friend?