The Secret of Atlantis (Citadel World Book #2)

by Kir Lukovkin

  Rick sat down on a stool.

  “Get up.”

  Rick got up. Lee smirked and glanced at him with disgust.

  “They say they caught you with some sort of woman. Is that right?”

  Rick nodded.

  “Are you dumb or something?” Lee turned the point of his blade towards Rick. “Don't make me angry.”

  Rick would have shown him what anger was, but he decided that his time would come yet.

  “The woman's name was Olivia. We walked through the city together for a while.”

  “Walked? They say you fell down from the sky. Lucio saw it.”

  “Not from the sky, we slid down a slope from the wall,” Rick explained.

  “What were you doing there?”

  “Running away from a huge spider with Olivia. We barely survived.”

  “What sort of spider?”

  Rick told him everything exactly how it was. Lee frowned with distrust.

  “That means you are fortunate guy,” he concluded finally.

  “We were just lucky.”

  “Really?” Lee moved the knife to the edge of the desk and spread his hands, sitting back in his chair. “Take the blade.”

  Without hesitation, Rick stretched out his hand towards the weapon, when Lee added, “But know that if you take it, I will kill you.”

  Rick froze, deep in though.

  “What're you waiting for?” Lee smiled condescendingly. “Take the knife.”

  Rick stared him straight in the eye and his hand darted out a moment later. Lee turned out to be quicker, grabbing the knife first and elbowing Rick in the chest.

  It was painful. Very painful. He barreled into the wall with his back and grimaced, rubbing his aching ribs.

  “Get out,” Lee ordered him in a calm and everyday tone of voice, as he slid the knife into its sheath.

  Rick stood up straight, but he was in no hurry to get out. Lee glanced at him with annoyance.

  “May I ask a question, Commander Lee?”

  “Hmm,” Lee's expression changed, and there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. “Give it a try.”

  “What happened to the woman?”

  Lee grinned.

  “The same that will happen to you soon, flyboy.”

  Rick nodded and enquired whether he could go now.

  “Wait.” Lee took out the medallion key that Olivia had given to Rick from a drawer in his desk. “Where did you get this?”

  “It's my personal medallion.”

  “You're lying, you scrawny whoreson.”

  “Not at all.”

  “Want me to make you bleed?” The knife appeared in Lee's hand again.

  “It's your right, commander,” Rick replied calmly.

  “Fine.” Lee put the medallion away into the desk. “Get out of here.”

  Rick came back to the barracks and could not get to sleep for a long time, staring at the ceiling. He was thinking about Olivia.

  K

  “THIS PLACE IS CALLED the Pit!” Lee announced loudly.

  The recruits were lined up on the edge of a huge hole in the middle of a concrete square. There were boxes with open lids lying on the bottom, with clothing, boxes of dry rations, flasks which were probably filled with water or something stronger and various pieces of military equipment and even weapons. Rick saw a pair of familiar looking blaster stocks sticking out among the gear. There were four boxes altogether.

  Lee walked along the opposite side and pontificated, “Every recruit must pass the selection by Pit. I went through it too and today it is your turn. The rules are simple — everyone takes what they can. The one who is left with nothing, leaves the contest. You have exactly an hour for this test. Are the rules clear?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the recruits shouted, having trained their throats for the past week.

  Many had learned a hard lesson — the platoon commander does not forgive those that keep quiet and some of those that avoided answering the commander's question still had bruises and welts which were yet to heal.

  “Excellent.” Lee slowed down and asked with interest, “Perhaps someone has some complaints about their health? Is anyone tired?”

  The platoon kept their silence. Everyone knew what would follow a complaint. Then Lee pulled back on his sleeve, looked at his watch and shouted, “Forward!”

  Everyone dashed into the hole. Two immediately tripped up, or maybe they were helped and a jumbled up pile of bodies suddenly appeared at the edge. Rick jumped over the bodies after those that had rushed to the fore and found himself near the boxes. However, he did not have time to grab anything before a fight broke out. He managed to knock one of his opponents down with a punch to the jaw and another fell down by himself — someone had struck him on the back of his head from behind. Rick threw himself towards the boxes again, almost running into the arms of a stocky red haired man, dodged and reached another box.

  “Stop, you bastard!” the stocky man exclaimed.

  It was too late. Rick grabbed the first thing his hand brushed past in the box and bounded off to the side, avoiding the approaching runners. A melee broke out by the boxes again — the strongest were already dividing up their booty on the side while the weak clambered over each other, trying to find at least something to grab hold of. There was no mercy for anyone and the women had to fight as hard as the men.

  Suddenly, they heard the call of a bugle. Everyone stopped and looked up.

  “Excellent!” Lee shouted and clapped his hands. “And now, the gear has all been taken and we have an unlucky loser!”

  A thin young man darted around among the recruits, the one who had complained about life in the barracks after the first day of exercises. Rick remembered him well. The young man was dashing from box to box, trying to find something, but they were empty.

  “The loser is eliminated!” Lee declared. “Recruit, to me!”

  “Give me another chance!” the unfortunate shouted.

  “All right,” Lee nodded. “Come here, soldier! You have five seconds for this task. The time has started!”

  The recruit froze with indecision, but in a moment he was clambering upwards, tearing the skin of his hands. Lee watched him with narrowed eyes, his mouth twisted in as smirk.

  When the man appeared at the top, armed soldiers came to stand by Lee's sides.

  “I'm begging you!” the poor man cried, stretching out his hands. “Please don't!”

  “Only one mistake is allowed here!” Lee cut him off coldly. “But I gave you a chance. You need to meet the time standards!”

  He waved his hand.

  The blasters crackled dryly and the man fell onto the concrete, his chest burned through with the charges. The platoon stood there, looking up and holding their breaths. Rick felt his throat go dry. He lowered his head and saw that he was gripping the handle of a knife that was hidden in a plastic sheath. Rick bared the blade and the steel glinted in the light and then misted up from the breath that reached it from his mouth.

  “But that isn't all!” Lee declared from above. “There are thirty of you in the platoon now. There is one less now. The division requires for only twenty of the best to remain. The selection happens in the Pit.”

  “What does that mean?” Gareth shouted.

  “Thirty went it and twenty will get out, you idiot,” the grim-faced recruit muttered quietly.

  Yet Lee had heard him.

  “Well spotted, soldier!” the commander chuckled. “Whoever starts climbing out without my order will end the same way as that loser.” He spat on the back of the murdered man. “Let the selection begin!”

  Turning on his heels, he disappeared from sight. The armed soldiers stayed on the edge of the hole. Rick pressed his back into the rough and cold wall and looked over the remaining recruits.

  “All right,” Gareth suddenly said and adjusted his grip on the blaster that he had got out of one of the boxes. “Playtime is over.”

  It looked like he knew how to use weapons well as
he was holding it correctly. Rick noticed how Gareth's fingers automatically released the safety catch and immediately moved the charge power switch to maximum output.

  “What are you talking about?” the grim recruit asked.

  “You know it yourself,” Gareth replied confidently.

  “Hey, you,” a blonde girl called out to them. “Maybe we can think of some way to get out of the situation?”

  “You heard everything loud and clear,” Gareth cut her off. “The selection has begun.”

  “This is madness,” said a dark-skinned man, stepping forward. “We are humans, we aren't possessed!”

  “This is the selection,” the large red-haired man stepped forward to meet him, holding a compact shovel which was very well sharpened and nodded at Gareth.

  Gareth returned his greeting and declared, “You will be the first. I need another eighteen people.”

  “How come you're choosing people?” the grim recruit asked him.

  “Want to argue about my rights? Go for it,” Gareth aimed the weapon at him with a smile.

  They exchanged piercing stares for a while, and then the grim recruit surrendered and raised his hands, “All right. Let's do it your way, you're in charge now.”

  “Excellent, go and stand by his side. And you,” Gareth pointed at the girl. “And you.”

  He motioned at the black man with his weapon.

  The girl said nothing as she joined them, but the black man was still hesitant,

  “Hey!” they heard from the other end of the pit, as a bald man with a deep and crooked scar on his face came towards the boxes. “Who do you think you are?”

  He had the same kind of blaster in his hands as Gareth. But Rick noted that the weapon's safety was on and that the charge indicator was set to minimum.

  Gareth silently pulled the trigger, and there was a crackle, some surprised shouts and a dead body on the ground.

  “She is not right for me,” Gareth noted and looked over everyone else with a tense appraising gaze. “You — come here. You too. And you...”

  He selected those who held something resembling a weapon in his hands. Rick hid hiss knife behind his back, attaching the sheath to his belt. When the new group had been joined by around a dozen people, there was a popping noise similar to the shot of a blaster, just not as powerful.

  A charge fell past Gareth and hit someone nearby. Gareth turned abruptly and shot back. A tall woman by the boxes shuddered and grasped her own neck, dropping a short-barreled compact blaster.

  An instant later, went fell down on her knees, but did not manage to stay up and collapsed on the ground. The grim recruit by Gareth's side fell, holding his stomach.

  As if nothing had happened, Gareth pointed at the man who was standing by the woman who was shot and who had backed away in surprise, “You. Come here.”

  When Gareth's unit reached eighteen strong including him, two of the remaining women started to shout, interrupting each other.

  “Choose me!”

  “No, me!”

  One of them had a flask in her hand and the other was holding a torch. Gareth cast his mocking glance at each one in turn and then said, “You are both so lovely that I don't know who to choose. Decide among yourselves.”

  It took the women a few seconds to digest what they had heard and then they attacked each other, screaming ferociously. Gareth and the others watched the fight between the candidates for the place in the unit with interest. The woman with the flask immediately put it to use, smashing her opponent in the face and crushing her nose, but got shoved with the end of a torch in the stomach, which made her fold over and get hit with the thick part of the torch on the back of her head. She groaned and dropped the flask, falling to the ground where her opponent turned her onto her back and started to smash her repeatedly with top of the torch, turning her face into a bloody mess. Once she was satisfied, she wiped the blood from her broken nose and nonchalantly approached Gareth.

  Impressed by what he had just seen, he announced, “You have earned your place among us.” The amusement was gone from his eyes, which shone with excitement. “Stand with the others.”

  When the woman took her place among their ranks, Gareth looked over the remaining four recruits, including Rick.

  “You all saw what happened. We have one more place, so decide who gets it for yourselves.”

  “You won't do that!” a broad faced man said and put a green box labeled “grenades” in front of himself. “Either you take me, or I will blow up everyone sky high!”

  “You're not going to do that,” Gareth disagreed calmly.

  “Want a bet?” the man quickly opened the lid of the box and grabbed a grenade. He had no time to pull the pin as the remaining recruits jumped on him and started beating him with their fists.

  A moment later those who were selected for Gareth's squad joined in. They kicked the blackmailer in the ribs until they broke as well as crushing his nose and dislocating his jaw. He was alive, even though he was barely breathing when Gareth ordered them to stop.

  One of the attackers tried to go for Rick in his excitement, but immediately backed away as he had almost gutted himself on the knife that Rick held out.

  “Don't come near me,” Rick shook his head.

  Both stood there tensely in their fighting stances.

  “Leave him to me,” a voice came from the side.

  Rick glanced over and recognized the hook-nosed thug who had recently tried to steal a piece of concentrate from his pocket at night.

  “His own mother won't recognize him when I'm done with him.”

  The thug got a better grip on the heavy monkey wrench he was holding, slapping it against his other palm.

  The confused recruit that was between them stepped out of the way. This was enough for the thug to jump on him and crush his larynx with a single strike. With a short gurgle, the surprised recruit was dead before he fell.

  “Just like that,” the big man concluded, glaring at Rick with a bloodthirsty smile. “Except that I will kill you slowly.”

  As soon as he said that, he rushed forward. But Rick was ready for him — he sidestepped to let this huge and furious tank past him, so that the oaf would barrel into a hard wall.

  He struck.

  The empty ring of a wrench which was nearly lost.

  A growl.

  The big man turned around and howled, tried to move sideways as Rick sliced him with his knife on the inside of the crook of his arm.

  “I thought you wanted it slow,” Rick told him sarcastically.

  Somewhere at the edge of his awareness Rick understood that it was only a little separating him from becoming no better than this thug, but he was also overcome by a thirst for revenge — he wanted to punish this oafish murderer, punish Gareth and punish all those that bring people to this state and turn them into animals!

  There was a pop and the head of the thug exploded like a pierced pustule. By reflex, Rick drew back as the pieces of skull and brain flew into his face and spun around so he could see the shooter better. He wiped the filth from his face.

  “I chose you,” Gareth declared.

  “Why?”

  “You are a strong fighter but you could have been injured.”

  Rick was looking at Gareth, thinking whether to jump on him and kill him now, or resolve everything later. If he thought about it logically, Gareth was right, as he could have been harmed if he did not kill the big man but only wounded his arm.

  “You did not surrender,” Gareth continued, “you have an iron will. And...”

  “The selection is over!” they heard from above.

  Everyone looked up. Lee stood on the edge of the pit. The platoon commander was not alone — Commander Fritz was by his side.

  “That's it for today, you can go and rest. And you,” Lee pointed at Rick, “will come and see me this evening.”

  “Yes, sir!” Rick shouted and walked through the ranks, deliberately shoving Gareth with his shoulder so that he alm
ost fell and started to climb the steep wall of the pit.

  Once he was up above, it started to snow heavily. Lee and Fritz were already on their way, accompanied by armed soldiers and their figures receded into the white fog...

  L

  “YOU HAD AN INTERESTING selection today.” Lee was not even looking at Rick, who was standing to attention as he sat at his desk and cleaned the dirt from fingernails using the end of his combat knife. “Everything is usually decided in the first few minutes. But it all got drawn out with you. Why did you hide the knife? You could have immediately shown it to Gareth, I'm sure you would have been one of the first people he chose.”

  “I wanted to test you, commander.” Rick stared straight ahead, because Lee stopped digging into his nails and looked up at him in astonishment.

  “You should not lie to me. I can smell lies a mile off, like the stench of a corpse.” Lee got up and walked around the table, standing in front of Rick. “I know what you're thinking. Of course, killing those like you in stupid arguments is disgusting. But there's no other way in our line of work, believe me. There's no place for the weak here. It's better that they die than the strong die because of them when the time will come to fight for the division. Cowards always run from the battlefield. But you're no coward.”

  Lee looked like he was about to sit down, but he spun around and shouted “Am I right?” in Rick's face.

  “Yes, Commander Lee!”

  The platoon commander nodded, sat back behind the table and continued, “We sort the wheat from the chaff. We select those who truly are the best and the most able to survive in difficult conditions. That's the only way to protect society from internal and external threats. Now, answer me. Why did you hide the knife when Gareth began the selection?”

  “I did not want to show my advantages.”

  “That's cleaver for those who are watching, but not for you in that situation.”

  Rick blindly stared straight ahead.

  “Commander Fritz said the same thing, as well as some of the highest ranking officers. And these people don't make mistakes. Do you agree?”

  “What about?” Rick moved his eyes to look at Lee.