RIFT (The Rift Saga Book 1)

by Andreas Christensen

  “Some of you may come to love the battle dress, those of you who get a chance to wear it in combat, for it will save your life.” He looked at every one of them, taking his time. There were nine left from her initiate squadron. From her team, all except Albert were still there, meaning that the other teams had taken harder losses. Sue was glad to still have Brad, Julian, and Keisha, but she would have been even happier if she didn’t have to deal with Quinn.

  “In the Janissaries, you should expect injuries. You may stand too close to a blast, get caught up in a chemical attack, or get sprayed by a hail from a machine gun, storming an enemy position. And the battle dress will be the only thing standing between you and glory. Meaning death, Sue thought.

  “A Janissary and his suit are as one single organism. It’s like a symbiosis, where if you treat your suit well, it will keep you alive. Sensors all over, both on the outside and inside, will notice subtle changes in you and your environment. The powerful AI knows your needs even before you do, and acts accordingly, sending its little nano bots out to fix you up, or giving you whatever you need to survive a tight situation.” The tacticus walked slowly from side to side, and Sue listened intently as he explained some of the battle suit’s functionality.

  “Of course, it protects you from most small-arms fire, blast and fragments. But it can do so much more. Say you’re dead tired from days of fighting, or lying surrounded, enemies all around, and yet you struggle to keep awake. If you fall asleep, you may not be able to get out of a sticky situation. And all the while, your eyes keep sliding shut, and you have trouble keeping a clear thought. Well, the suit will notice, and when you reach a certain level of fatigue, the suit will inject stimulants directly into your blood stream. Enough to keep you from falling asleep if you need to lie still, or enough to give you a real adrenaline boost if the situation demands it.” Sue looked at the suit again. An AI to make life or death decisions almost frightened her. But she also knew there were situations where you needed to act quickly, and one day, the suit’s abilities might save her life.

  “Sometimes, though, even Janissaries need to sleep. The suit can fix that, too. Just tell the AI, and it will help you find the rest you need, through chemical and electrical stimuli of certain parts of your brain. Heck, you can even set the timer.” Tac Hordvik chuckled, and a few of the initiates smiled, as well. The tacticus stopped and looked at them. His ice blue eyes sometimes unnerved her. Moon people eyes.

  “Imagine being alone out there. Near the coast, the fog can get as thick as soup, and your line of sight stretches no more than a few meters in front of you. The suit can warn you of an enemy’s approach long before your eyes can see them and pinpoint their exact location. And if you’re incapacitated, the suit can disperse a poisonous gas that kills up to fifteen meters away. Of course, you won’t be harmed, as you will be injected with an antidote.

  “Later, we will have a look at the nano bots, but suffice it to say, those little fellas will become your best friends, keeping your visor clean, your suit tight, and even stitch you up when needed.” He looked straight at her, and Sue looked away for a second. When she looked back, his eyes were still on her.

  “Lots of people think they know a Janissary. People all over the Covenant have seen the proud Janissaries parading in their black uniforms. This, though, is the true color of our Service. The battle dress is what sets us apart from our enemies. We have powerful weapons, just as they do. They have just as much conviction and determination as we do, just as much of a purpose and faith and fervor. They have amazing fighting skills, and their soldiers are just as well trained as ours. But our suits keep us alive and help us win, even when outnumbered ten to one. Without a functional suit, we’re just as vulnerable as they are. But with the suit powered and active, we are close to invincible.”

  DAVE

  Dave was struggling to find a comfortable position, sitting with the other initiates, while a Warden, probably not more than a couple of years older than he was, lectured.

  “You all know the story, or at least the parts taught in schools, and I expect you to know the basics already. Yesterday, we covered the Fall, where humanity descended into darkness. The Fall is where the history books all begin, so let’s just leave it at that for now. The Dark Age lasted for almost half a century, forty-seven years to be exact. There was no hope in sight, just a scattering of surviving groups, soon only descendants of those who survived the actual impacts, which killed most of humanity,” the Warden intoned, clearly bored from having told the same story too many times. Dave was finally finding a good position and tried to pay more attention. He’d never been that interested in history, so occasionally, there were nuggets he’d never heard before.

  “Then came the Descent, in which the Moon people brought salvation. Shortly after landing, they began gathering the scattered groups and communities of the land, one by one. In the beginning, the people were simply cared for—sheltered, fed, and protected. Then, as more began to show up, this started to become increasingly difficult. So, just a few years after the Descent, the Moon people made one demand. In order to receive help, a number of people had to make a contribution. For seven years, those selected would serve obediently, in order to feed, shelter, and protect the others. Thus, the first Covenant was born. The first Service was the Corpus, and it was back-breaking work. Cleaning rubble, cleansing contaminated land, clearing fields, road building, sowing and plowing, building, constructing. Hard, manual labor. Many didn’t make the seven years, but the Moon people demanded that everyone stayed until their term was up. And through those hard years, the foundation and principles of Corpus that we know today were created. Eventually, the need arose for different kinds of services, and the Janissaries were created. Enemies were trying to capture revived lands, both in the North and the South, and the Janissaries became the most powerful fighting force on the ground. Supported by the Moon people’s air and sea power, the Janissaries swept south and subdued all enemies all the way down to the Floral Sea. With the South conquered, it quickly became apparent that there was no way the Moon people could control such large areas of land unless the conquered peoples became part of the growing nation. And so, thirty years after the Descent, the second Covenant was formed, in which the southern peoples committed to the same allegiance to the common good as those who had gone before them. They would be eligible for Service, the first years only in the Corpus and then later in the Janissaries, and in return, the families of those serving would receive enough food and goods to live out the life of the serving family member. Eventually, most of the fertile lands of the south became State property, run by the Corpus, although some parts became ordinary towns and villages, as well, such as Charlestown and Stonehaven.” The Warden paused, and Dave thought of how he’d never realized there had been more than one Covenant. The pact that bound them all together must have been revised several times over. In school, he’d always thought the Covenant to be something that had always been there. Now, as he listened intently, despite the lecturer’s obvious boredom, he found that he was learning something new with every sentence.

  “So now there was peace in the South, and the second Covenant lasted for seventy-two years. In the North, the wars continued, lasting for months and years at a time, but there were no clear winners. The northern enemies never managed to capture land for more than brief periods, while the Covenant leadership, based in its capital, Legacy, had never wanted the barren lands of the North, anyway, simply because they are worthless, and the cost of making a final push north would have been too high. Also, another threat appeared, that not even the Janissaries could contain alone.” Dave cocked his head. He’d never heard of this.

  “Far to the west, even further than we are now, lies the Rift. A deep depression created by the Fall that separates the furthest reaches of the Covenant from a wasteland far more dangerous than anything found up north. A poisonous river runs through the Rift, creating a natural barrier, and sheer cliffs rise on both sides of this depre
ssion. Beyond the Rift, there are people, descendants of other survivors of the Fall, but very different. Disease and radiation have turned them into aggressive predators, fighting amongst themselves, scavenging. Some of the tribes are cannibals, others have turned to some sort of twisted religion, and human sacrifice is common.” Dave shuddered.

  “A zone was created, two hundred kilometers wide, between the Rift and the Covenant. A forbidden zone, where only a few select people, in Service to the State, would be allowed. These people would be rangers, soldiers, scientists, and independent thinkers who knew when to act and how. They would be sworn to secrecy, because the sights they would see out there, and the things necessary to do to protect our people, were something our leaders decided to spare the people of the Covenant. These were the first Wardens, and this camp is located inside that forbidden zone.” Dave’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked around. Others seemed surprised, as well, even Liz, who always seemed to take everything in stride, never letting anything faze her.

  “When the first Wardens began patrolling the zone, there were still only Moon people officers in the Services. Eventually though, even the English had to be put in charge among the lower ranks, because the Moon people, though they have multiplied since the Descent, were only so many. And when disloyal Janissaries and Wardens revolted, it was English commanders who put down the revolt. In recognition of their Service, Covenant leadership decided to extend the privilege of citizenship to all who serve honorably to their term’s end. Also, because of the mortality rates among the Janissaries, the term was reduced to three years instead of the usual seven. A good many other laws were passed in the final year of the second Covenant. So many that by year’s end, the third Covenant was proclaimed. Among the new laws was the creation of the Students, the Service where the University and the Academy would select the very brightest young men and women to be groomed into scholars.” It still stung. Dave knew he should have been among the Students, although he’d fit in just fine here in the Wardens. But still, the way the lecturer had just described Warden Service, he now felt a pang of regret, for not being up in Legacy, with Chas and Felicia.

  “For thirty years, there was peace, and then the first Corpus revolt happened. It was put down hard, and ever since, life in the Corpus has remained… well, let’s just keep it at that. Corpus Service is a sacrifice, something that someone must do for the common good of all the rest of us. Those who manage three years in the Corpus are usually transferred from mining and farming to factory work, which is a bit better. Still hard work, but those working the factories have earned the right to better conditions. I’ll put it this way, in the factories, there are foremen instead of whippers.” The Warden seemed to have eased into his lecture a bit more, and it seemed less of a recital, now that he was approaching modern times. The initiates also seemed a bit more eager. Now and then, a question would arise, and the Warden would try to answer as best he could.

  “Why do those people on the other side of the Rift try to come here?” someone asked.

  “Well, there may be several reasons, but I suspect life out there can be pretty unbearable. Unfortunately, disease and radiation have mutated their genes so badly, we cannot allow them to pass the zone. So we stop them. Sometimes we have to fight them and sometimes we just help them return to where they came from. Next question?”

  “Does anyone ever go the other way?”

  “No, or at least, they won’t get too far. We have motion detectors and sensors all over the zone, and if someone should enter from the east, they will be turned back. The zone is forbidden. The Rift is something only a Warden should see. And the wastelands beyond, well, I wouldn’t want anyone to go there. Crossing the Rift is death. Next!”

  “What caused the Rift?”

  “The Fall. Or rather, the thing that caused the Fall. Next.”

  “What caused the Fall?”

  “A disaster. Only the Moon people know the details. Only the Moon people are allowed to know. Next.”

  “The Moon people come from the Moon, right? What were they doing there?”

  “I am not privileged to that information, and neither are you.” Dave noticed the questions were taking a turn away from the history lesson, and the lecturer seemed to tighten up by it, like he wasn’t supposed to talk about some of these issues. Warden initiates all seemed to be like him—curious, and although this line of questioning was interesting enough, Dave wanted to know more of the history.

  “What happened after the first Corpus revolt?” Dave asked. The lecturer looked almost relieved at the question, and eager to answer.

  “Well, when the Corpus first revolted, the third Covenant was deemed to have come to an end. After that, the leadership decided there would only be one “Covenant,” where new laws and orders could simply be incorporated into the old system.” He paused for a moment, thinking hard.

  “Once the first revolt was put down hard, you would have expected there to be a long period of peace. But the opposite happened. The third Covenant ended seventy-one years ago, and in the first fifty years, there were three major uprisings. Now, this is classified information, not to leave Warden territory, you got that?” He waited until everyone either nodded or answered yes, before continuing.

  “All evidence point toward outside involvement. That makes it different from the revolts of the past, which have all come from within the Covenant. The last three were instigated from the outside. Which poses a difficult question: who had the capability to threaten the Covenant?”

  “Savages from the North?” someone asked. The lecturer made a gesture.

  “Who knows? Could be that, or someone from the less damaged populations out west. They do have weapons out there, you know.” He shrugged.

  “Either way, the last revolt was more than twenty years ago, and the Covenant has been very prosperous since then. Nowadays, I don’t see an uprising as a likely thing to happen. The economy is good, the Corpus seem quiet, the Janissaries are in control of the northern borderlands, and we have noticed nothing unusual out here. A few intrusions now and then, but they are swiftly dealt with, and it doesn’t seem organized in any fashion. No, I’d say this is a good time to serve, and hopefully you’ll all earn your citizenship in a time of peace and prosperity.” Dave couldn’t agree more. As long as there was peace, he would deal with the challenges his Service would throw at him. But as the lecture ended, he wondered if his time of Service would be as quiet and uneventful as the lecturer had expected, or if the last fifty years had just been the calm before the storm.

  Chapter 4

  MARK

  He was late for his meeting with Head Servant Lunde, and should have been in a hurry. Instead, he took his time dressing after a long and invigorating shower. He figured Head Lunde would put up with it; after all, if not for Counselor Mark Novak’s mind, Lunde would be long dead, along with his wife and all of his mistresses, his children, and his children’s children. Come to think of it, the head servant’s children’s children’s children would probably be long gone, as well. He chuckled without mirth.

  No, Moon people or not, everyone waited for Mark Novak.

  He turned toward the mirror and looked at his face. Once, it had been a young man’s face, and one women tended to fall for. Although it rarely changed much these days, it had been a long time since his face had the features of a young, successful scientist and womanizer. His ice blue eyes still had that particular twinkle, and his hair, long, blond, and slicked back, showed not a single grey hair. Still, he could see where youth had lost, not to age, but rather agelessness.

  He looked closer, putting a finger up near his right eye. A wrinkle forming. Crow’s feet. He exhaled deeply. It would be time for another treatment soon. Months of isolation, cryo sleep for weeks at a time, while the doctors worked their magic.

  His magic.

  He had long abandoned performing procedures himself, but he still worked on perfecting the small parts, all those little details, whenever he felt like doing
a little work. Not that he needed to; it was just something he liked doing now and then, whenever his need to feel useful threatened to overwhelm him.

  He wondered for a moment if he should call for a pleasure lady and some stimulants for after the meeting, but decided against it. He usually felt more tired afterward, and with another treatment coming up, he knew he needed all the energy he could muster. Besides, it just made him feel more empty, the kind of empty only someone as privileged as he would ever experience.

  He looked away and put on his slippers. He should be grateful. The Moon people had given him everything in return for the treatments and his advice. He was a trusted citizen, a hero respected by everyone. The one who witnessed the Fall. The one who dealt the final blow to a dying nation, clearing the way for the Moon people to come into their right. The one who gave every citizen the chance to live forever. Or as close to it as anyone could possibly know, given that he was the oldest man in the world. The one who enabled the reign of the Moon people through the power of life itself.

  Something gnawed at him, though; this constant feeling of… wrong.

  That everything about this was so very, very wrong.

  He had been a rebel once. He even brought his best friend into it, and look where that got him. His friend died, a broken man fallen from grace, held captive in a prison cell somewhere. And though Mark eventually got his revenge, in hindsight, it all looked pointless.

  No, he was done rebelling.

  Leaving his luxurious apartment felt good. It was but a few minutes’ walk to the Palace, but he enjoyed the vigor and bustle of Legacy. Although most people here, at least those visible to him, never had to work, they still seemed busy with some thing or another. If he managed to suspend disbelief for a few moments, it felt almost like walking through a prosperous city in the old world.

  Almost.

  He hardly noticed as he walked straight through the gates and up the walk to the Palace entrance. The Moon Palace Guard officer on duty saluted him, but Mark hardly acknowledged his presence. As the doors opened, he strode through the great reception hall. Everyone he met knew him by sight and moved out of his way. He ignored everyone as he walked to the elevator leading up to the apartments occupied by Head Servant Lunde.