The Rift Coda

by Amy S. Foster

  “So you think we could get through to them?” Levi asks.

  “I do believe that if we could get some of them alone and get the drug out of their system, then, yes, I think we have a very good chance,” Navaa says with confidence.

  “We’d have to get one first. And they are fast. They’re like little bolts of lightning,” I tell her with obvious skepticism.

  “But you’re faster,” Yessenia argues. She is the chief medical officer for the Faida Citadels, so I suppose she would have the most expertise on our biological differences. “All the human Citadels are.” I don’t bother telling her that she’s right. We are faster. The Daithi rely almost entirely on their speed. But we have a much larger toolbox, giving us both the advantage and disadvantage in that context—it’s the difference between a specialist and generalist.

  Navaa clears her throat. “How we proceed in further negotiations is not why we’re here today. We’re here to come to a consensus on which Citadel races we try to ally with. We can figure out the how later. So do we agree that the Daithi are our best chance?”

  “The human contingent agrees,” I offer, “but for the record, it’s not with the same amount of confidence you have.”

  “Noted. Let’s move on to the Akshaji.”

  The gruesome images of these Citadels come roaring onto the screen on the table. There is blood—not necessarily red, since not all species bleed crimson—against the shimmering purple of the Akshaj Citadels. The sinister pleasure they derive from killing is clear from these images. They don’t just shoot or stab. They gut, maim, disembowel, and rip limbs, all with a sly smirk of enjoyment. Ezra turns away and I understand. He isn’t built for this kind of violence. I am and it’s not like I’m enjoying any of this.

  “Before you ask,” Sidra announces to the room diplomatically, but I know she’s talking to me, “we did send a team, well before the sound blockade went up, and they never returned. They never checked in after the first twenty-four hours. We thought it best given the already tense situation here that we not send another unit.”

  “The Akshaji are unpredictable, mercurial, violent, and more mercenary than other Citadels. However, I think if we make a compelling enough argument, we could get them on our side,” Navaa says with a slight tilt of her head. One of her long strawberry locks falls onto her cheekbone and she sweeps it aside efficiently.

  I absentmindedly fiddle with the zipper on my uniform. She might be right—and I’m not really sure she is, based on what I’ve seen—but even if she is, I’m not so sure I want anything to do with these animals. They are killers. Murderers. I can’t deny that I feel a certain amount of pleasure when I take out a particularly nasty hostile, but I don’t wear their entrails afterward like a necklace.

  Levi has even more doubts. “Why would you think that?” he interjects. “Why would the Akshaji take sides in a war they don’t care about? Especially considering that, by all accounts, the altered Roones have been completely transparent with them.”

  Good point. I fold my arms together, waiting for an answer from Navaa.

  “I highly doubt the Akshaji know about the Midnight Protocol,” she says. “It would be easy to plant seeds of suspicion and doubt. They are as paranoid as they are violent.” I’m not sure if Navaa is overreaching here, but it does make a certain sense.

  “So basically what you’re saying is we have to convince them that we are the stronger force and that eventually the altered Roones will turn on them,” I ask, double-checking to make sure we’re all on the same page.

  “Exactly. It would be difficult, but not impossible. It is the Faida’s suggestion to this joint council that we seek an alliance with the Akshaji, the caveat being we bring the Daithi in before going to them.”

  “Great. What’s our next step, then?”

  “I propose we loop in Gomda.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He heads up the team that’s in charge of deployment operations. Their sole job is to make sure that all soldiers have everything they need to survive on a mission, from provisions to ammo. Gomda and his staff are extremely thorough and I have no doubt that they will be able to help us mount an immediate and successful expedition to the Daithi Earth—”

  “Wait.” I interrupt her again and she clenches her jaw ever so slightly.

  I don’t want to run roughshod over her, so I choose my words carefully. Finally I say, “I’m impressed with the speed at which you feel comfortable deploying troops for a covert op. I also understand that time may be our biggest enemy here, but we have to go back to Battle Ground first. We need to check in with the people we left in charge, make sure Camp Bonneville is still in our control, and debrief them on everything we’ve learned.”

  Both Levi and Ezra swing their heads around in my direction at the same time. I hadn’t discussed this with either one of them. But then again, I hadn’t even realized how badly it needed doing until I got to this room. We don’t have all the answers, not by a mile, but we have some of them. Beta Team needs to know what we know. We need the greatest tactical minds working on this problem, which most definitely includes my team and the rest of the higher-ranking human Citadel officers.

  “I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Navaa suggests rather haughtily. “If the altered Roones find you, this alliance will be over.”

  “If ARC takes back Battle Ground, then the alliance is over anyway,” I say with a shrug. “Right now we control a single Rift and thousands of Citadels. If we lose that advantage, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. And you have to remember, humans don’t even know there are other species of Citadels, let alone that the Settiku Hesh are Roones and that the Roones are altered, too. They don’t know anything. Imagine a Spiradael unit coming through and acting compliant until the intake, inside the compound. Our people have no idea how many enemies are really out there, and I’m not about to leave them so exposed.”

  Navaa puts her hands together, slender tapers that she squeezes tightly on the table in front of her. “If we lose you, we lose any chance of being able to Rift off this Earth safely, of forming alliances with other Citadels. At least take a strike unit of ours with you in case—”

  “No way,” Levi jumps in. “If a Roone sees you, then we’re busted. Not to mention that we can’t do things the way you did them here. We kinda tried that already and it led to a coup. We need to find another way, and maybe some of our people will have an answer,” Levi argues, echoing my own internal thoughts.

  Navaa frowns, as if there was no way us pitiful humans would be able to solve the problem if they couldn’t.

  “Enough,” I say, leaning back into the seat. “We’re going. Today. Navaa, please don’t be offended when I tell you that I wasn’t asking permission. I was simply informing you of our plans out of courtesy.”

  The entire Faida delegation is purse lipped, as if they had been sucking on lemons. “Thank you all,” I tell them as I stand. “The briefing was illuminating. I’m really encouraged.” I don’t mean to sound like a smart-ass, but I probably do. And I really don’t care. I can’t defer to them. Not now. Not ever.

  Everyone else around the table also makes a move to leave. Ezra ambles over in our general direction and we all walk out of the room together. He kept his mouth shut. I’ll give him that much.

  “You aren’t coming, so don’t even ask,” I tell Ezra as we walk down the long hallway. The war room is far beneath the mountain. It had taken a good while for us to get down the stairs. At least I’ll get my workout for the day climbing up them again.

  “But—” Ezra begins.

  I swivel quickly on my toes, turning to face him. I don’t even say anything—my eyes say it all. His mouth turns into the shape of a Cheerio and then his lips flatten out. This is one battle he won’t win and he knows it.

  “Fine. I’ll just stay here and try to get an estimate on the numbers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll pool the recon and see if there’s any way to tell h
ow many Citadels we’re looking at here and what different alliances might look like.”

  “Good call,” I tell him honestly. Statistics are something we actually need. What we don’t need is Ezra slowing us down. For a brief second I feel guilty. I know I am not being all that nice. Just a short while ago Ezra and I had been together. He put his life on the line to cure me of my Blood Lust. I had fought my way through the Multiverse to find him. I had loved him. I had loved him, hard and recklessly almost to the point of abandon. Now I’m finding it a struggle to even be nice. Then again, this is war. Nice can take you prisoner. Nice can get you killed.

  Chapter 8

  Levi and I open a Rift back to Battle Ground and walk out into a frigid night filled with a canopy of stars. We decided on a farm, closer to Meadow Glade than Camp Bonneville. Just a quick run and we should be back in our neighborhood. It’s two thirty in the morning. Violet’s parents will be sleeping, but chances are that she won’t be. Violet lives only blocks from my own house. I have to be careful now. This feels as dangerous as it did when Levi and I first walked onto the Roone Earth thinking to rescue Ezra. It is imperative that no one but Beta Team sees us. Edo absolutely cannot know that we are here. She must believe that we are trekking on an adventure through the Multiverse in search of Ezra, allowing the Rift to mutate my Kir-Abisat gene even further. Otherwise . . .

  No. I can’t think that way. We won’t get caught.

  When I get to Violet’s house, I spring up like a cat and then leap off a tree onto a gable, and I hang from her windowsill. I bring up my free hand and tap lightly on the glass. It only takes a second or two for Violet’s face to appear. Her eyes are bright, her smile grateful. I allow myself to fall, landing in a crouch position, and Violet silently opens her window all the way and drops down wearing Nikes and oversized sweats.

  She pulls me into a fierce hug. “Oh my God. You’re home. You aren’t dead,” she whispers in my ear. Little fragments of her voice are catching. Violet is about to cry.

  “We’re back, but just to check in. We need to get to Henry and Boone ASAP,” I tell her with urgency.

  Violet lets me go and takes a step back, cocking her head at me. “Um, hi,” she says sarcastically. “Remember me? Your best friend? The one who had to watch you and G.I. Joe over there. Hi, Levi.”

  “Hello, Violet,” Levi replies with a quick flash of a smile.

  “Anyway . . . I had to watch the two of you walk into a Rift never knowing if I’d see you again, so maybe just give me a minute to be happy you’re safe?”

  I grab Violet by the shoulders and squeeze. I don’t want to scare her but . . . “We don’t have a minute,” I tell her gravely.

  She takes a beat. I’m sure she thought that with my return maybe this whole thing was on its way to being over, and then she sees the tension in my stance, how I’m partially pitched forward and the way my neck is jutted slightly out. Vi knows. I watch as her whole body folds into itself. Violet is a good Citadel, but she was never made for war. She can and will defend with her life. She will take lives in that pursuit, but the offensive game? Her mind just doesn’t work that way.

  But like I said, she’s a good Citadel, and she asks no more questions. We take off into the night. We run fast. Our feet are skipping stones through backyards, over fences and guardrails, through pastures and parking lots. We get to Battle Ground Square and make a beeline for Boone’s. When Violet gets him, he, too, embraces me without hesitation or worry. That’s a relief—it means his Blood Lust may be cured or, at least, well under control. He also knows better than to ask questions. I will only talk when we are all assembled. There’s no time to waste. Henry’s house is just a few streets over. We’re there in no time, and Boone goes in through the back door. They both scramble out in a matter of seconds.

  Henry doesn’t want to embrace me. I can see the look of relief on his face, which is then quickly replaced by something else. I have come in the dead of night. I am not at Camp Bonneville. It has taken him one second to figure out that whatever I have learned is not good. Henry is a rock star among Citadels. Levi and the boys acknowledge each other’s presence with a quick nod. I can tell when my team has their guard up. Levi is nothing more than an acquaintance—a fellow Citadel, yes, but they don’t know him. Hopefully, when they see how much trust I put in him, they’ll understand that they can follow my lead.

  The five of us make our way behind Henry’s house, to a wooded area where there is a walking path. When we get far enough away, I don’t bother with preamble. There’s no need to go into Microwave Earth or Gladiator Earth. I stick with what I’ve learned that’s of use to us. Levi joins in the conversation when necessary. Violet keeps her hands either tucked around her or at her lips, as if she’s praying. Boone is pacing. Henry is stock-still, his fists flashing open and closed at various intervals.

  When I am finished, no one says anything. I am on my own Earth. There is no buzzing or humming, nothing to keep caged behind my eardrums. It is not, however, silent. My fellow Citadels, all but Levi, have elevated heart rates. Boom. Boom. Boom. There is something scurrying on a branch and in the thicket of trees behind us there is a rustling, not a person—no, we would have heard that. Maybe a cat or a raccoon.

  “Well, that’s us. Fucked. In the ass. By several partners,” Boone says grimly. Then adds, “Sorry, bro,” in Henry’s direction. I roll my eyes. Henry is gay and he lets Boone be an idiot about it sometimes—and by “lets,” I mean he doesn’t kick his ass every time he makes a stupid comment. Though I will say that Boone has generally gotten better. But not tonight. Tonight, Boone is scared enough to revert back to his old juvenile patterns.

  Unsurprisingly, it falls flat. No one is in the mood. Then again, I doubt Boone really is, either.

  “The good news,” Henry says, ignoring Boone, “is that Camp Bonneville is secure. But we have to assume that Edo is feeding everything to ARC. They know and it’s just a matter of time before they sweep in.”

  “Not necessarily,” Levi tells us all. “The altered Roones don’t care about ARC, not really. They care about their work, their Citadels, and more specifically the weird buzzing gene they gave to soldiers like Ryn. They probably think the Allied Rift Coalition is just as much of a pain in the ass as we do.”

  “Fine, okay,” Violet says, trying so hard to keep her voice calm. “But what do we do? I mean the magnitude of this—it’s too much. Where do we even start?”

  “Well, first of all, we don’t make a public service announcement the way Ryn did before she left,” Boone says. “We all know how that ended. The brainwashing and the drugs. We might be able to get through to a portion of the Citadels, though—twenty percent? Maybe even closer to forty.” He nudges closer to Violet. A hug would be inappropriate, but I can tell they both appreciate the proximity. We’ve got our soldier on, but he stands right up next to her, so that their arms are touching.

  “I’ve actually been thinking about this. A lot,” Henry says, his voice a light in the darkness. This is why Henry stayed behind. This is why I brought Levi. We’re all geniuses—I’m a leader, and Levi’s brilliance lies in troop movements, tactics—but Henry thinks beyond the fight. “I’ve got a plan. I was going to start to implement it once you returned, but I think given the circumstances we should move on it. Now.”

  “Lay it out,” I say.

  “Well, we can’t tell everyone, but we can tell some people. I’ve got transfer papers signed and ready to go. Fifty Citadels from Battle Ground that I trust. Implicitly. We send two to the remaining thirteen Rift sites and two more to each Village. We let them infiltrate. Replace the drug supply with placebos and have them cast their nets. We work Citadel by Citadel from the inside out. Two turn four, four turn eight, and so on. If our operatives think there’s no way an individual can be turned without arousing suspicion, we then keep a very close eye on them. Maybe we can reboot and reprogram them in time, maybe we can’t. But at least we’ll know who’s on our side and who isn’t. I suggest we get
new patches made for those that are loyal to your new fancy alliance, too. We’ll be able to tell who’s who if it comes down to a fight.”

  “And Edo and the rest of the Roones aren’t going to notice when you start sending our people across the world?” I ask skeptically.

  “No,” Henry assures me. “I’ve basically been running operations here. People get transferred all the time. We just don’t see it because our teams are so small. They trained us that way, not to look too hard at the numbers. The Roones won’t suspect and I can cover the paper trail anyway. They won’t notice. They aren’t looking. The only thing Edo talks about is you, Ryn.”

  I close my eyes for the briefest of seconds. “Really?” I ask, though I’m not entirely surprised.

  “She’s always managing to slide your name into a conversation. She makes it seem casual. Trivial stuff, but she’s making sure we know that she hasn’t forgotten,” Henry tells me.

  I don’t bother to respond. The altered Roones are playing both sides of a very dangerous game. Henry will know what to say to Edo to placate her just enough. The altered Roones are brilliant, but they haven’t been trained like we have in evasive maneuvers. We have to assume that they don’t know where we’ve been or this base would have been overrun already by ARC. However, the Roones tracked us in the Multiverse, so they must be using a system that the altered Roones don’t have. At the very least, there’s that.

  I take out a flash drive and press it into Henry’s palm. “This is all the intel about the other Citadel races you need to keep this place secure. Learn their languages and study their fighting styles.” Henry closes his fist around the piece of tech, but before he can put it in his vest I grab his hand. “You will be unsettled by this,” I warn. “You all will be. It’s not going to do anyone any good by pretending this isn’t scary as fuck. Denial is dangerous.”

  “Okay,” he says thoughtfully.