Allie's War Season One by JC Andrijeski

strangely alive. I sense something there, too. The man’s presence lingers around them of course, but I also get a feeling of, I don’t know...function, I guess...as if those structures have a use. Whatever they are, I definitely get the impression they’re more than just a bunch of pretty lights.
    One thing is for sure: he is nothing like the man in the park.
    His light shines with a subtle clarity that is vastly different than Terian...and yet, he is not soft here, either. His eyes are diamond white, carrying a faint edge.
    I am still staring when he points.
    I see nothing at first. Nothing but clouds and stars.
    Then I see movement. Beings dart from and into those massive thunderheads.
    They remind me of old woodcuts of tentacled leviathans surrounded by underwater forests. Some are singing. Watching them, I know I should be more afraid.
    The man watches me look.
    They will not hurt you, he reassures me. Those kind are harmless.
    My mind pauses on “those kind” then decides not to pursue it.
    Where are we? I ask.
    Instead of answering, he points down. Two long, twisting trails of light, one white and gold, the other a different shade of gold and white, loop languidly from our feet. I follow the course of those lights. At the bottom is a circle of blue daylight.
    There, a black-haired man drives a car, blood staining the collar of his shirt. His hands grip a leather-wrapped steering wheel as he leans back in his seat, and next to him, a girl with matted blond hair with dark roots leans against the car door, her wrists handcuffed to the armrest.
    I look dirty to myself, like some kind of vagrant or drug addict. I have a bruise on my face and dried blood at my hairline. My eyes are closed. Slumped against the door, my body bounces lightly from the car’s motion.
    Landscape flows by as he steers the car down a frontage road. His eyes appear to shine white down there, too; I do not know how they would look to others.
    To humans, I look normal, he says. After a pause, he adds, Your glowing eyes are unique in that regard, Alyson...although it is rumored that Syrimne shared this trait with you. Humans and seers can see it in the physical world when you operate your light at certain frequencies. It is something we can hopefully train you to control...
    As he speaks, I watch his reconstructed veins pulse and plume more light.
    There are several...oddities...in your make up, he continues. Your blood is undetectable as Sark...seer, I mean. Sark is short for ‘Sarhacienne,’ which is the real name for our race. The lack of discernible markers for your blood is an extremely rare condition. Only one in several hundred thousand seers have this. I have it, too. It is why they made me an infiltrator.
    I am back to staring at myself inside that car, trying to convince myself that the rest of this isn’t real. He reaches out, catching hold of my light arm.
    This is the Barrier, Esteemed Bridge. Do you recognize it?
    I am forced to nod, which isn’t a nod of course, but a silent conveyance that feels like one. My heart isn’t really in it, but I feel his approval.
    Good, he sends.
    I’m not a seer, I say. I can’t be. It’s impossible.
    My protests sound hollow, even to me.
    Even so, I fight to hold on to that one thing.
    I’ve read about your kind, I think at him. You play with people’s minds. You can convince them of anything...
    This does not faze him.
    You are right, he sends equably. But why would I do this with you?
    I don’t have a good answer.
    His opens himself somehow, and I feel more of him.
    It is disconcertingly intimate.
    You have known you are different from them, he says, letting me feel still more of his presence and light. You consciously chose to hide those differences...to suppress them wherever you could. His mind turns more pointed. You knew you weren’t human. You just didn’t want to know. So you pretended to believe the blood tests.
    I don’t like this much, either.
    His light begins to change,