Page 264 of Seer Prophet

Instead we were basically holding our breaths, hoping not to be seen. I dared not shield us at all, in case they picked up on thealeimicsignature and decided to zero in on our location.

I kept a close eye on Revik’s light as the construct fell down over both of us, molding around our light and thealeimicprojections we used to try and disguise the more telling aspects of our identities. I didn’t notice any difference between how that happened to Revik and how it happened to me.

Like every construct of the Dreng I’d encountered, it cut my breath just how insidious those threads of light really were. It was like watching water splash over rocks covered in tiny fissures, filling every microscopic cut and opening. I couldn’t track the extent of that penetration until it was already too late?and I doubted the vast majority of seers would ever notice how deeply that light wove into theirs.

Humans, of course, would be completely at the construct’s mercy.

Not panicking over the reality of that construct ended up being the hardest thing for me to breathe through. It built a claustrophobic reaction in my chest and belly that had Revik caressing my arms and back and chest through the fabric of the wet suit.

I did the same to him, even as we kept our lights more or less to ourselves.

As we hung there, holding each other, I watched the construct possess both of us in methodical increments, sliding through openings and shadows in our lights so tiny I felt my nerves worsen as I watched them appear and disappear.

I didn’t get the sense the construct recognized us, though?or ID’d us.

Also, Revik dealt with it really well.

Being so close to him, I could feel his fear.

I felt him control that fear, breathing evenly through his respirator as he hung next to me. I felt all the meditation he’d been doing with Jon kick in, felt his light go utterly still as he consciously quieted his mind.

Watching him, I decided I’d join them on that meditation kick of theirs, when and if we got out of this.

More than anything, the construct appeared to be marking us.

Once it finished doing that, I felt it turn to its next function, namely, to gradually?mechanically almost?begin to twist our mental framework to be compatible with the reality the construct projected. Again, the shifts were subtle, incremental, and integrated seamlessly into the workings of our own minds.

They were all the more unnerving for those very reasons.

I knew that layer of the construct functioned to create a kind of “groupthink” inside the construct’s boundaries. Certain realities would feel inevitable, as self-evident as natural law. Most would agree on philosophical or ideological points within the Dreng construct without noticing that they did. Thus, the construct created a layer of delusion, and thus control.

I felt it as pressure around my light. I suspected that was myaleimifighting back as the construct tried to force it down more rigid and narrow lines.

A memory rose of that seer, Ivy, and how she’d twisted my reality completely out of its normal parameters on the cruise ship. She’d been my first encounter with an agent of Shadow.

She’d done it fast?in a matter of seconds.

Of course, I’d been pretty defenseless back then, but the reminder was still sobering.

By the time the ship began to slow, I’d more or less found a balance inside those metallic strands. It wasn’t a comfortable balance, but I didn’t feel completely lost there, either.

Only then did I look at Revik, using the infrared.

To say he looked tense was an understatement.

I didn’t dare use my light to try and reassure him, so I used seer sign language, motioning towards him with the hand I wasn’t using to grip his shoulder.

It’s okay. We’re okay. Right? In and out.

He nodded, smiling faintly through the regulator.

Tell me if you get targeted for real,I reminded him, still signing with my hands.Let me shield you. Don’t try to do it yourself, okay?

I thought I saw a faint eye-roll through his goggles that time. That impression was confirmed when he motioned back.

No shit, wife,he answered, using the less formal version of hand signals.

I fought not to laugh, but he gripped hold of me tighter.

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