We’ve been brought to what looks like the Situation Room. There are at least eight massive tables with electronic displays. There are Karekins standing in front of these, but there is another race, too. Smaller, in uniform, but we are moving too fast for me to get a proper look at them.
There are also dozens and dozens of 2-D projections on the walls in lieu of monitor screens. I catch glimpses of codes, maps, equations, and different species. As I’ve always suspected, the Karekins may be violent, but they are not stupid. Now I can confirm that they are working with another species. It is rare, but not impossible, that two dominant species on a single Earth can thrive together concurrently. This must be what is going on here.
Finally, our bodyguards move away from us and I get a clear view of the room. At the far end there’s a man sitting on a chair atop a dais. He is surrounded by more Karekins, including a few others who must be the same, unknown species. This must be the man in charge. He looks to be much shorter than the Karekins and slighter in weight. His eyes are somewhat small, too, but nothing like the tiny slivers of the Karekins. His long thick hair is pulled back in a puffy single braid that falls down the right side of his shoulder to his waist. He also has a beard. The thing that strikes me, though, the thing that is inescapable, is the color of his skin. Not just his skin, but the skin of his advisors around him, some of whom are women, the first we’ve seen. These are not the different shades of skin tones found on humans, which are really, at the end of the day, variations of the same.
These people are green, pink, jet-black, and amber. I take a closer look at the Karekin nearest to me and not just in the eyes, but his entire face. It’s not something I’ve ever really done before. To my credit, I’ve generally been fighting for my life and mostly they’ve been obscured by hair. But now I can see that just under the surface of their skin hide tones of other, brighter shades as well.
The man sitting on the chair is the color of the marble floor in the building above us, the same color as the flags hanging from the roof. He is blue—not cheesy Avatar blue or as dark as navy, but lapis. I take him in and my eyes narrow. I think I know at least one part of the puzzle, and I don’t know if I’m ready for it to come together.
“Thank you, Citadels, for joining us today. It was a brave and courageous thing to do,” he says with a booming voice in accented English. How does he know English?
“Where’s Ezra?” I demand. “I won’t say another word until I can be assured that he is safe and unharmed.” I watch as the people around him look at one another uneasily.
The man on the dais simply laughs, and the others, taking his cue, do the same. “You are hardly in a position to be making demands, little bird. My name is Iathan. I am the president of Ehwas.”
I casually fold my arms and stare at him. I really don’t give two fucks. He could be the president of Sesame Street for all his announcement means to me. I need assurance that Ezra is all right, and then we can discuss this guy’s civic responsibilities.
“Tell me, Ryn Whittaker, Citadel, designation 473 and Beta Team leader . . .” Iathan grips both sides of the chair and lifts himself up. He isn’t fragile or frail, I suspect this is more for dramatic effect, just like his use of my full name and rank. He is trying to intimidate me, but I’m beyond that now. If I can be surrounded by a full squadron of Karekins and keep it cool, Iathan’s words, no matter how disturbing, are hardly going to back me into a corner. “Have you figured it out yet? They gave you speed and strength, but did they give you enough intelligence to know who I am? To know what I am?” Iathan smiles as if he’s just eaten something delicious.
There is silence in the room. I close my eyes for just the briefest of seconds. The machines around us click and whir. I can hear the muffled hiss of electrical wires running out of the concrete walls. I focus. I zero in on the heartbeats of those that are closest to me, including Iathan’s. It’s barely audible. Another clue. I look down at the ARC patch on my uniform. I had been right. It’s the same symbol, three interlocking, inverted triangles, that I saw on their flags. The same one that decorates their own patches on their black, sleek outfits. I can’t believe I’m only now seeing it, but they are, after all, three feet taller than me. Besides, it doesn’t matter—I wouldn’t have been prepared anyway. I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for me to ever be prepared for this.
But fuck this guy if he thinks I’m going to be hot and bothered by it.
“I know exactly what you are. You’re a Roone. Now bring me Ezra.”
Chapter 20
“Excellent!” Iathan slaps his palms together, as if he’s giving himself a high five. “Now, then, I imagine you must have many questions.”
I glance at Levi. His body looks relaxed enough, but I know this posture well. It’s right there, in his eyes, he wants to pounce. I get that there is some sort of game going on here, but Levi hates games. He’d rather just rip out your throat. Still, he is silent and hasn’t killed anyone. Yet. I take that as progress.
“Yeah. I have some questions. And I’ve already asked my first one. Where. Is. Ezra? Is he hurt? Why won’t you bring him out here?”
Iathan shakes his head and makes his way back to his seat. “You are very determined, Ryn Whittaker. However, you must earn the right to see Ezra Massad.”
“I guess the fact that I’ve traveled through the Multiverse to find him doesn’t count for much around here. Fine. What do you want, me to fight for it or something? ’Cause I promise you, if you make it a fair one, I’ll earn that privilege.”
Iathan simply sighs and puts both hands on his hips. “They really did shoolack with your mind. What’s the word, Froome, in English? For shoolack?” Iathan gestures to one of his advisors, who steps forward gracefully. “I believe you’ve already met Froome, in Marrakech. He is one of our best agents. He’s also very good with English, especially your colorful colloquialisms.”
I understand why Iathan would choose Froome to spy for him among humans. His skin is neither light nor dark, but a fleshy pink that could easily pass for Caucasian. “Don’t bother, Froome,” I say loudly. “The word in English is ‘mess’ or ‘screw.’ I get it. And yes, we’ve been messed with. Badly. So please just go get Ezra, and then we can all participate in whatever shoolacked little play you’re acting out.”
“This is no act, I can assure you,” Iathan says with hand over his heart. “Despite your training, violence is not the solution here. You have a saying on your Earth that I quite enjoy. ‘If all you have is a hammer, then every problem looks like a nail.’ Froome taught me that one.” Iathan takes a seat and leans forward. “What is going on here, in this room on this Earth and yours and Ezra Massad’s—it is not a bag of nails, little bird.”
I throw my hands in the air in frustration. “My name is Ryn.”
At this, Iathan chuckles, as do a few of his advisors. “Ah, yes, but I thought it was Wren, which is a little bird. We’ve made a point of learning all the Citadels’ languages. Not me personally. But I do speak English and Russian, though admittedly not as well. There are nuances that someone like me, who is not a native speaker, find confusing.”
“Fine. Call me whatever you want. Just tell me how to earn the right to see Ezra.”
Iathan snaps his fingers and immediately two Karekins step forward with chairs. It is beyond bizarre to see them this way. It’s not even that they are politely offering us a place to sit, which is crazy, but that they are calm. It’s their general tranquility that’s throwing me. It’s taking more than a fair bit of my concentration not to stare too hard or think too much about them, because that would be bad. Very bad. I’ve already stopped myself from snarling when one of them gets too close. “The price to see Ezra is your patience and your ear. I want you to listen to my story in its entirety, without interrupting, and without hurrying me along to get what you want. Can you do that?”
Levi immediately takes a seat and even scoots it closer to the dais, nodding to me that he can do this, which mean
s I can, too.
I sit down and sink deep into the black leather cushions, resting my hands lightly on the armrests. I lean back, hoping Iathan will believe that I am relaxing, ready to listen. And while I will be listening to every word he says, I am still ready to spring at the first hint of something else going on. I know when I am being lied to, even by someone like Iathan, who I’m sure has mastered the skill.
“I think I can keep it together long enough to listen to whatever you’re going to say,” I tell him coolly. Iathan looks at Froome and sighs as if I’ve already failed the task. I replace my smirk with a deadly serious stare. I will not let them goad me.
“Would you like some water? Some food?” he asks politely.
“We’re fine,” I answer.
“Unlike the Woon-Kwa, whose marvelous village you just Rifted from, I do not believe you are a telepath. How can you be so certain Levi Branach would not like some refreshment?” Iathan asks.
“If your spies gave you intimate knowledge of the Woon-Kwa,” Levi says, “then I assume they would have also told you that they are a most hospitable race. We were fed well there. But maybe your spies aren’t as thorough as you might want to believe?”
At this, Iathan gives us a broad, slow smile. “Well said, Levi Branach. I wondered if you had lost your voice, you’ve been so quiet.”
“I speak when I have something to say. Right now I am here to listen. So please, begin.” I bite my lip in an effort to keep from smiling. Levi has managed somehow to put the president firmly in his place while being completely respectful.
“So be it.” Iathan’s tone is no longer so congenial, and it’s apparent Levi’s calm has gotten to him. It’s nice to know he can be rattled so easily.
“One hundred years ago, this city was a beacon of progress and prosperity. I know it might be hard to believe, looking at the sad place it has become, but once upon a time it shone. Like most great civilizations, it had taken centuries to secure worldwide peace and cooperation. This Earth has far less landmass than yours, roughly half, I believe. There was less to share, so believe me when I tell you that accomplishing global unity was an incredible achievement. Once our people began to share knowledge, our society grew in leaps and bounds. Not that it matters much in terms of this particular conversation, but the Roones used to be a society firmly rooted in the arts and philosophy. But then, for some reason our focus shifted on to technology and science. That was the beginning of the end, though, obviously, we did not see that coming. We thought we were being revolutionary.
“I think, perhaps, we thought ourselves gods.”
Iathan stops. He strokes his beard, looking pensive. He doesn’t seem that old, but it’s like he was there, a witness to it all, and maybe he was. I never asked Edo her age. The Roones, even the ones here that look so different, do not have wrinkles or folds on their skin. And it’s quite possible their life span is much longer than a human’s. Given what they can do, it wouldn’t surprise me if they have extended their life spans through science.
Iathan continues. “So. A hundred years ago, we made a discovery. We did something extraordinary. I think you can guess what that was, can’t you, little bird?”
“You opened a Rift,” I answer, my mask of indifference holding firm. It isn’t too hard—it isn’t the most astounding revelation at this point.
“Yes. We opened a Rift. Several, actually, quite by accident. We were doing research into harmonics and dark matter. We had no idea at first how we had even done it, let alone how to control it. One Rift turned into two, then four, then twenty. Ultimately, sixty-seven Rifts opened around our Earth, and we were ill prepared to deal with the repercussions. We had a peacekeeping force, but we had done away with the notion of soldiers and armies long before that. So what to do?
“As it is on your Earth, these Rifts were not so much doorways as revolving corridors. Day after day, hour after hour, our Earth was besieged by all manner of monsters. Thousands died, from both sides. It was a dark time. We believed that the Rifts were problems rooted in science and therefore the answers must lie in science as well. We knew we needed soldiers, but not just regular soldiers, for as you well know, the things that emerge from the Rift cannot be contained by conventional strength or speed. We needed monsters of our own. And so, through genetic manipulation and mutation of Roonish volunteers, we created the Karekin. In our language, this word means Citadel.”
Now that is a revelation.
Edo. That lying bitch.
I grip the handles of my chair. I grit my teeth. My mind spins in circles, almost tripping over itself when I imagine the scope of her lies. The Karekins are Roones, or they were . . .
I force my hands to relax. I clear my head. There’s time to react later. Right now I will just do as he asked and listen.
Even though I want to show everyone in this room why thinking of me as a weak little bird is a huge mistake.
“The Karekins solved our immediate problems with the Rifts, but unlike you human Citadels, they did not have augmented brain capacity. We did not believe that we, on our own, as we were, would fully master the Rifts. So once again, we turned to science. Hundreds of volunteers offered themselves up. They were the best and brightest scientific and mathematic minds. They saw what the gene therapy did to the Karekins, but they didn’t care. All they wanted was to be smarter. At any cost. The Roones on your Earth are those volunteers. They made their skin as hard as the hardest rocks, almost as hard as metal, to protect their precious brains. They may not look it, but they turned into monsters, too. And for a while, I must admit, their gamble paid off. We learned how to close the Rifts. Then we learned how to navigate and control the Rifts. And I am sure, if we had learned how to do these things without so many of us becoming monsters, we would have found a way to explore and cultivate this newfound knowledge peacefully.
“However, the altered Roones weren’t interested in peace or exploration. All they wanted was to exploit and dominate. They believed that by crossing the genes of different species that Rifted here from different Earths, they could create better, stronger Citadels, though our need for more had diminished. It didn’t matter—they were ruthless. They tortured many innocent souls in the name of science and progress until finally we felt that we had to put a stop to them.
“This city you Rifted into is a result of that decision. We drove the altered Roones off of this Earth. They took thousands of loyal Karekins with them. Thankfully, we had thousands of loyal Karekins on our side, too. The most important thing for you to know is that the altered Roones believe that they are in the right. They believe themselves to be healers and miracle workers. They truly think that they’ve given you a gift, and eventually, they’ll want payment for that gift—help retaking this Earth, their home. It’s the reason they continue as they do.
“But playing God, changing the destinies of other races, I think that game has become far more important to them. Still, the human Citadels are exactly what they have been waiting for. They were so smart to change you as children. They had never done that before, but it has cost them.”
Levi and I look at each other. Is Iathan saying what I think he’s saying? “Yes, little bird,” Iathan says, as if reading my mind. “The Karekins were the first and you were the last, but there have been other Citadel races in between.”
Iathan wisely pauses to let this information sink in. I’m sure he knows where my mind will go next: Taking down the Roones will not be easy. It may even be impossible, depending on how many other kinds of Citadels are out there in the Multiverse. All the Roones have to do is open a Rift and let them in. We can’t even count on the entirety of the human Citadels to fight. The memory of those I had told before the Rift took Ezra—those like Duncan—is all the proof I need that we’d almost certainly be facing against our comrades. But if I needed more, all I’d have to do is look around the room at the Karekins and see how easily a seemingly united group can find itself tearing apart.
“So much of what you believe is
a lie,” Iathan says sadly. “Scientists on your Earth were fed false information, starting with the idea that the Rifts on your Earth were an accident. They weren’t—they were deliberate, allowing the altered Roones to show up at precisely the right moment. Your people were desperate, so they gladly accepted their help, even if it meant sacrificing the lives of a few children. The altered Roones didn’t sell it like that, of course. Remember, genetic manipulation is a gift in their minds. So it’s not just the Roones on your Earth that are your enemy—your own people are complicit as well.
“Another lie they tell? That the Rift takes Immigrants randomly. Untrue. It was true at first, here, on this Earth. But they have mastered the Rifts. The majority of Immigrants are chosen and then kidnapped either for their intellect, as Ezra Massad was, or to sharpen your battle skills. This is why they send in their own Karekins, the only true match for you. We have a name for those lost men. We call them the Settiku Hesh. The Suicide Soldiers. They’ve been so drugged and so brainwashed they no longer ask questions. They are to try and kill as many other Citadels as possible and then kill themselves before they are taken. I know you hate the Karekins you fight at Battle Ground, but they deserve your pity. No other race has been as poorly used by the altered Roones.
“But perhaps the greatest lie, and one that pertains to you both, is that you were chosen for your averageness.” At this, Iathan can’t help but give a soft, melancholy chuckle. “The fact is, you were chosen because you were the smartest and the fastest, the most agile and the most dynamic thinkers. It is preposterous to believe that they would bestow what they consider the highest honor to a specimen they considered inferior. And you, little bird. They gave you something extra special, the gift of all gifts. You know what I am talking about, yes?”
The Rift Frequency Page 24