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Rift

Page 8

by Andreas Christensen


  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.

  Once the elevator stopped, he exited, and entered the head servant’s office, which took up the outer part of his apartments. The room was lavishly decorated, with gilded ornaments everywhere, in addition to the white and black of the Moon people covering the walls and ceiling. The carpet, oddly, was a deep crimson, and only a few people knew the symbolism. All of them Moon people, except for Mark Novak. Earth history from before the Fall was banned from non-citizen schools, and nothing of Moon history before the Descent was taught to English kids, either. And while most Moon children had learned of the Youth Revolution by the first grade, the grisly details were a long forgotten chapter. But he knew.

  “Ah, there you are, Counselor,” Head Servant Lunde said, rising from his chair behind the enormous oak desk. He motioned for Mark to follow him over to the lounge chairs in front of the ancient fireplace, an artifact salvaged from the ruins of the house of the last president before the Fall. Mark thought it fit right in here, although, he mused, Lunde probably didn’t even know that president’s name. He held back a chuckle. Mark knew.

  “You look tired, friend. Is it time again?” Mark nodded.

  “No way around it.”

  “Well, don’t hold off for too long. Everyone depends on you, Novak.”

  “Yeah… Although I guess there would be plenty of people ready to take my place if I didn’t take it this time.”

  “Don’t speak like that,” Alexej Lunde said, a frown interfering with his otherwise perfect features. Movie-star face, Mark thought. Too perfect. He half-smiled.

  “Don’t worry. It’s just an old man’s grumbling,” he said.

  “Well, you are old.” The head servant’s frown turned into a grin. “But I guess you are entitled to grumble.” He snapped his fingers, and a hologram appeared before them, showing a model of the continent. Still so strange, Mark thought, to know that most people, citizens or not, would never see that image. They would only see the smaller version, the one showing less than a fourth of this.

  “The Covenant,” Head Lunde said, as the model morphed into a three-dimensional map seen from a bird’s point of view, with the Covenant in white, the border in black, and everything else a dull brown.

  “Surrounded by enemies. The coast held clean for the last century, thanks to the battleships and our orbital stations. The land border, though…” He shook his head. “We control the northern border, as we have for so long, although who knows what is brewing up there. The savages are a nuisance, but no real threat. Cannot even speak properly.”

  “French,” Mark said, “or rather what used to be French. Evolved.”

  “I know, and you know that I know,” the head servant snapped, “but it’s a brute’s language. Primitive.” He sat back and moved his fingers to enhance the westernmost part of the Covenant on the map.

  “The Rift, though. There have been more than a few episodes lately.” Mark nodded. He’d seen this coming.

  “Four years ago, it was the aircraft. Luckily, we had an orbital platform nearby and took it down before it reached visible airspace. Then, for the last two years, the number of incursions, both hostile and civilian, has increased. The Wardens consume twice the amount of Bliss now, compared to five years ago. The labs are hard pressed to keep up with demand. Some self-medicate because the latest version of Bliss tends to let fragments through from time to time, but kissweed or whatever they do these days, doesn’t fix their perception. Dulls it a little, I guess, but without Bliss, everything would unravel.” Mark nodded, impatiently.

  “So what should we do about it, Alexej? Can we hold the Rift?” he asked.

  “We need to ramp up production. More Corpus initiates, more labs, longer hours. No way around it. We need more Bliss, a lot more. As it is, the dosages are pushed so low, someone could develop immunity or worse, total recall.” The head servant paused, before he stared back at Mark, jaw set.

  “Whatever we have to do, we will do it. The Moon people have always done whatever it takes. It is the will. To desire the means, as well as the end. We shall hold the Rift for a thousand years, Mark. A thousand years.” Mark saw it as clearly as he ever had then. The will to rule, the determination to use any means necessary to achieve their goals. The legacy of the Moon people, forged in the Moon dust, a force that had led them back to
Earth, and one day would make them rulers of the entire planet. He saw it and shuddered. And yet, he was part of it, for better or worse. He had chosen sides a long time ago, and he meant to see it through.

  DAVE

  “So, basically, the Covenant consists of two economic systems?” Dave asked rhetorically. Scientist Hughes nodded back at him. Dave was eager and had found that the Wardens, although not as prestigious and well known for their research and knowledge as the Students, were a Service where those who had a thirst for knowledge might find themselves well situated. The scientists were only too eager to welcome initiates such as Dave, who had barely missed Student Selection. One of them, Rogers, claimed that those picked by the Wardens often had stronger motivation than Student initiates, which made them better scholars in the long run. Dave had learned that while the Students had their Academy and their University, the Wardens had their Cottage. It wasn’t well known, or glamorous in the least, but Dave was beginning to believe it might be equal to the Legacy institutions in quality of research and inventory of knowledge.

  They had spent the first few weeks in camp, learning everything from how to build a fire and constructing improvised shelter, to physical training, to intermediate physics, chemistry, and economics. They had even learned the basics of handling a weapon. When they were deemed worthy, the initiates moved into the Cottage for a month of advanced learning. The scientists assessed each initiate individually, and Dave was among the first group to be awarded the honor. This was the first lecture at the Cottage he attended, and he immediately felt more at home with the more advanced levels of learning here, than with the more basic levels taught back at the initiate camp.

  “Indeed, Initiate Wagner. How many of you have ever thought about why most people just sells their goods locally? Simple, it’s a matter of price and demand. To move goods further than a few towns away would increase the cost of goods, making them too expensive to sell, and unable to compete with goods carrying lower transportation costs. So that limits the business geographically,” Hughes said. Dave thought of how he had learned that all motor transport outside your allowed area was forbidden, and that trains and their cargo were controlled by the government in Legacy.

  “So the people in Legacy, who get all their goods from the Corpus lands, though paying a higher transportation cost, actually pays less altogether because of the cheap labor,” Dave said.

  “Service. Not cheap labor. Service to the State,” Hughes admonished mildly, a hint of a smile touching the corner of his mouth, before he addressed the class.

  “But yes, a little blunt, but Initiate Wagner got it right. Those are the two economic systems we have in the Covenant. One that sustains a strong State and the welfare of its citizens, and one that ensures a sound economy, with an optimal distribution of goods among the non-citizens in every town from Charlestown in the south to Fort Winter in the north.” He looked at his watch. Unlike school back home, there was no set time and no bell to signal the end of one class and the beginning of another. No, it was all up to the scientists. And there was plenty of time between classes for such a flexible system, time that the initiates spent discussing amongst themselves, asking follow-up questions to the scientists, or just hanging out with friends. Dave found that even though he had thrived in the more disciplined system back home, he actually learned more, or rather, he gained a deeper understanding of the subjects, within the Warden system.

  “Time for a break, folks. Scientist Kasparov will be ready in half an hour, so let’s try to stay close, shall we?” Everyone scurried out of the classroom, speaking loudly amongst themselves.

  “Initiate Wagner. Will you stay for a few minutes, please?” Scientist Hughes said. Dave immediately froze. It must be something he said. He was terrified of messing up, now that he was beginning to think of the Wardens as so much more than just a second best option for his years of Service. He held back until everyone had left the room, standing a few steps away from Scientist Hughes, waiting nervously.

  “David Wagner… Charlestown boy, right? We don’t get too many from your parts…” He made a swiping movement on his infopad, and read quietly for a moment. Dave remained quiet.

  “Hm. Such a clever young man. I bet you expected to be somewhere else right now though, didn’t you?” The scientist sighed. Dave tried to think of something to say, but the words just wouldn’t come.

  “Well, there’s not much glory or fame to be had here, so if that’s what you were hoping for, I can assure you, life here will be difficult for you.” He peered at Dave, cocking his head slightly to the left.

  “But that’s not it, is it? No, I don’t think it is. You have something there, kid. Potential, yes that’s it. You don’t care about the fame and the prestige and all that, no… You seek knowledge. And such a seeker of knowledge can have a bright future here. Unless of course…” Hughes stopped abruptly. Then he smiled and closed the folder.

  “The system isn’t perfect, far from it. But it’s the best we could possibly have. Before Descent and the Great Recovery, there was chaos. Before that, a system that in the face of danger, couldn’t protect its citizens.”

  “But isn’t it unfair that…” Dave began, but stopped when he saw the hard look the scientist gave him.

  “The system prevents disorder. And yes, it rewards the citizens of Covenant. Understand this, though, Initiate Wagner: the State is vital to our survival. Citizens earn their privileges. And one day, you might, as well.” He sighed again.

  “You will learn, son. I wasn’t born a citizen; I don’t have Moon blood running through my veins. But I’ve learned that everything we have, our way of life, is all because of the Moon people, and the concept of Service to the State.” Dave noticed Hughes got a faraway look in his eyes as he paused for a moment. Then he focused his gaze on Dave once again.

  “There are dangers you wouldn’t dream of out there, Initiate. If we were to give an inch, our enemies would take everything we’ve got. Everything we’ve built. And ultimately, we would be left outside of the protection of the Moon people.” Dave nodded slowly. He knew there were dangers outside the safety of the Covenant. He’d never taken most of it seriously, though. It had always felt too distant. Hughes, on the other hand, looked like he knew more than he would tell, and yet, he obviously felt the need to warn Dave. To make him take it as seriously as he did.

  “The Moon people saved us all, and every day since, the Covenant has been all about preserving what they built. Moon blood or not, we’re all in this together.” The scientist’s stare seemed to pierce right through him, and Dave saw something he hadn’t noticed before. Fear. Like he’d seen more than was good for him. And a fervor Dave hadn’t noticed before. He felt a chill running down his spine.

  “We’re living on the edge of a knife’s blade, son. One wrong move, and our society falls. We are Wardens, and our job is to make sure that doesn’t happen. Whatever the cost.”

  As Dave walked toward his next lecture, he had a feeling he’d soon enough learn what Scientist Hughes seemed to fear so much. And he didn’t look forward to it.

  SUE

  She was breathing heavily, every breath misting in front of her, fogging up the visor for a split second before the nano bots cleared it again. Autumn had arrived, and the leaves on the trees were changing into red and orange hues. And although the days were still warm enough, the mornings were steadily becoming colder. Inside the battle dress, she was comfortable, though. The AI regulated the temperature and let moisture out through vents, keeping her warm and dry. A few hours ago, she had felt a jolt of energy as the suit had injected a small dose of caffeine into her system, but the effect was now long gone. The adrenaline of being out on her first patrol had worn off, as well. For three days, they had been walking, with just two hours of sleep. And not a sign of the northerners, except a few run-down huts that Tac Hordvik had explained were the remains of an enemy settlement that had been terminated years ago. “Too close to our borders,” he had said and continued to expl
ain that no settlements south of the river were allowed. That would be too risky. Not that he had needed to tell any of them. It was all part of basic training, learning about their enemy and the rules of engagement.

  Now, she was beginning to look forward to returning to camp. She had expected combat, but Tac had explained beforehand that the savages often fled instead of fighting them, especially since the patrol would never penetrate the deep woods. In a couple of hours, they would reach the exfiltration point, where they would be picked up by an armored airship. Once they returned to camp, they would march through the grounds still wearing the battle dress, to be treated with a lavish dinner. On such occasions, it was not uncommon that one of the strategos or some other high official would come and join them, share the meal with them, and talk to them almost as equals. Survivor night, it was called, and it was one of the traditions the Janissaries kept, a rite of passage of sorts. Whether shots had been fired or not, they would then be full Janissaries, no longer mere initiates.

  Sue was jolted from her thoughts by a whisper inside her helmet. It was Keisha, who covered the left flank with Brad. She looked over and saw they had already raised their weapons, ready to fire at anything. Sue, on the opposite end, raised hers, as well, covering the right flank with Quinn. She didn’t like him, but they were teammates, and whatever personal issues they had disappeared as they worked together as limbs of the same body. Julian, front man for today, had taken a knee and held a hand up to his helmet, signaling activity in front of them, as well. Tac Hordvik, positioned a little to the back, centered, looked over his shoulder and gave a signal for Sue to leave the right flank and strengthen the front with Julian. They had trained for this, and Sue noticed the movements came naturally to her as she quietly slipped behind Quinn’s firing zone to take up position with Julian. The six-man patrol, though green, was a cohesive fighting unit now, ready to move against whatever came their way, and Sue felt the rush of adrenaline as the AI injected a stimulant into her veins. Her breath became deeper, her focus clearer, and all signs of fatigue disappeared in an instant. Even her vision improved; the contrasts became clearer, and her eyes seemed to receive more light, enabling her to see things that normally would be hidden by shadow.

  “Contact, ten o clock, two hundred meters,” she heard Keisha’s voice say in her helmet. The voice was steady and calm. She looked over and saw what had previously been hidden. A camouflaged blanket, probably heat resistant so the AI wouldn’t notice, hid several shapes, stirring.

  “Three seconds,” Tac Hordvik said, just as calmly. Sue moved her weapon slightly, so not to alert the enemy.

  “Two.” She tensed.

  “One.” She threw her weapon up to her shoulder, initially not bothering to aim. It was all about overwhelming the enemy at first.

  “Engage.” The deafening roar of automatic weapons, the explosions of smart rounds, one in every ten, the screams of their enemy as they realized they were under attack. It only took half a second before the sound was adjusted to comfortable levels by the AI, and she wondered what it must be like for the northerners.

  “Baseline left,” she heard Tac Hordvik say, louder, but still calm and systematic. He had been under fire before, and she was glad to have someone like him leading now. Sue and Julian moved just as they had trained for so many times, while Quinn on the right flank would be moving behind them all and taking up position to the left of Tac Hordvik. She was relieved that fear didn’t stop her from doing everything just as they had trained. Then again, it might be something the AI gave her.

  Seconds later, the team was lined up, side by side, spaced two meters between each of them, still firing at where the enemy had shown itself. So far, so good.

  “One forward,” the tacticus said. She moved forward, while counting. One, two, three, four, five. Down on one knee, firing in bursts. Julian, to her right, fitted another hundred-shot magazine into his weapon. She still had sixty left in hers, so she waited. Keisha, on her left didn’t change hers, either.

  “One covering,” Keisha said.

  “Two forward,” Tac Hordvik said. It was all just as they had practiced, everything moving smoothly, taking the battle to their enemy within seconds. Sue, Keisha, and Julian firing everything they had, while Quinn, Hordvik, and Brad moved steadily forward.

  “Two covering,” she heard Hordvik say as they took a knee to their left, returning to the perfect line. Sue quickly ejected the almost empty magazine, sticking it to the suit, where magnets would keep it in place for later. A fresh magazine went into her weapon, and she was ready again. Keisha was eyeing her, having done the same.

  “One forward,” came another command. She leaped up and moved forward. One, two, three, four.

  A loud blast from the back made her stumble and fall.

 

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