Amy Foster - The Rift Frequency

I sit down in one of the chairs. All I can do now is wait. I close my eyes, and immediately my thoughts drift to Ezra, just like they always do when I have even one minute alone since he was pushed through the Rift—

By Levi .

In Levi’s defense, someone was trying to kill me and he was only trying to save my life. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I’ve told myself that so many times I’m actually starting to believe it. But don’t I have to? The alternative is that Levi, for whatever reason, might have killed the first person I’ve ever had real romantic feelings for. If I continue to believe that, I may just snap and do a little killing of my own, and right now, I need Levi. He is the best Citadel for this job and there is a certain amount of justice to it as well. If Levi had given two shits about Ezra’s life, then I wouldn’t even be here in Kayanpu Joryoku. Then again, if Levi had hesitated, I might not be alive period.

Still, for me anyway, it all comes back to Ezra. He is smart—and I mean, like super-genius smart—and he’s a survivor. But can he survive on his wits alone? Even on an Earth like this, which seems rather tame compared to the ones I know are out there? He doesn’t speak Japanese. He isn’t totally white. He definitely isn’t East Asian. If he Rifted here first, he could have easily been captured before being able to Rift out and, let’s face it, they make actual movies about Japanese prison camps, and they never have happy endings …

For some reason I thought once I actually got through a Rift it would somehow ease my anxiety. It’s only made things worse. I have to get out of here. Safely. That means I have to push all thoughts of Ezra aside and focus. I keep my eyes closed.

And exhale.

It’s been thirty-seven minutes and I’m getting restless. There’s a clock, old and moonfaced, trapped behind a metal grate. It’s the same exact clock we have in our own version of Camp Bonneville. From outside the room Japanese words float through the thick walls. Because of my spectacular hearing I can hear things that normal people can’t. No one is saying anything of consequence. The clock, though, is really starting to piss me off. Its hands grind and tick. Each revolution a reminder that time is against us. And not just Levi and me.

Because back on my Earth, Henry, Boone, and Violet have control of the Battle Ground Rift. For now. How long they will be able to keep that leadership a secret from ARC is unknown. To maintain news of the mutiny under wraps from the higher-ups we used the same drugs ARC had been using to keep the civilians—the soldiers at the base—and us in line for years. We even had to use it on the damaged Citadels who refused to believe that ARC was anything but benevolent. I never wanted to brainwash my own kind—I never wanted to brainwash anyone —but I learned the hard way that the truth doesn’t always set you free.

Before I left, we all agreed that it was best for everyone to believe that Colonel Applebaum was still in charge. Applebaum, that brash bully of a man, is nothing more than our puppet now. I even had him call my parents and send off a bunch of fake paperwork for them to sign to explain my absence (they think I’m doing an internship for one of our senators in Washington, DC). He was never much of a threat, especially with the Roones, like Edo, on our side. But Christopher Seelye, the president of ARC, is a different story altogether. Thankfully, he’s based at ARC HQ in California, but he does travel to all the Rift sites frequently. He’s scheduled to visit Battle Ground in three weeks, and I need to be back there to help my friends when he does. Seelye isn’t like Applebaum. He’s ruthless and brilliant, and I don’t know if my team can fool him for long. I don’t want to think about what will happen to the Citadels at Battle Ground if Seelye sends in troops from other Rifts to neutralize us. It’ll be a blood bath—death on both sides. The Battle Ground Citadels have had their kill switches removed, but the Citadels at the other Rift sites haven’t. Edo could once again engage the Midnight Protocol and kill thousands just by tapping Enter on a keyboard.

Tick, tick, tick . This must be an Earth close in space and time to our own. It seems like our theory was correct. This could have been my reality if the Axis powers had won the war. Strangers would have stolen our country, our freedom, and our clocks. They didn’t even bother to install their own. For some reason, I find this really annoying.

Finally, a door opens and a Japanese man in uniform enters the room. His face is unweathered. I doubt he’s seen even a moment of action his entire life. He sits down gingerly on a chair in front of me, the chair shifting beneath his slight frame. I sigh. He doesn’t look like a bad man, but I’m going to have to hurt him in order to leave this room. I don’t feel guilty about it. I look at the clock again. Timing is everything and he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“I am Captain Kotoku Sato,” he says in Japanese. “What is your name?” He’s efficient and to the point, but he’s not angry. He sounds mostly curious and maybe a little irritated.

“Ryn Whittaker,” I answer honestly.

“Why are you here, Ryn-san? You don’t look like a stupid girl. You must know this area is off limits to civilians.”

I shrug my shoulders. It’s not like I can tell him the truth. “Why are you here? Japan wasn’t big enough for you?”

Now it’s his turn to sigh. “The war has been over for almost a century. And just by looking at you, I can tell that you are not indigenous to this country, and so I could ask you the same thing.” I furrow my brow for a split second. He kind of has me there. “I just don’t understand you people,” he continues. “Is democracy so wonderful? In the years leading up to our liberation of this country, America suffered a great depression. People starved in the streets. There were no jobs. Entire families were homeless. And now every person in this country has a job. No one goes hungry. We all work for the benefit of our community. The individual is not more important than the greater good. We have proven this. We have eliminated suffering. Is that not better than your democracy, which leaves so many behind?”

I narrow my eyes at him. He makes a good point, but I’ve sacrificed enough in my own life for the greater good. And while I’m really not here to argue comparative politics with a man I’m about to kick the shit out of, I can’t help myself.

I’m impulsive like that.

“Except the Jews, right?” I ask in English. “Probably aren’t too many of them in your fantastic community.”

Sato slams his fist on the table. “We don’t speak that language here,” he says with a slow intensity that is bound to build. “Your punishment will be even greater if you continue.” So now I say nothing. I can hear his heart rate increase. I’m not afraid of him or his threats, even though I can tell he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. “Tell me, Ryn-san, are you a militia now? Is that why you and this other boy are wearing uniforms? It’s one thing to protest in front of government buildings, but to dress up like a pretend soldier and walk into a military base would imply that your group of anarchists is attempting something very foolish. I would like the names of your collaborators. I ask this only to keep you from further harm.”

I fold my arms and cock my head. My defiance makes his heart race even faster, but there’s no point in pissing him off too much. I switch back to Japanese.

“I can tell you in all honesty that I am not collaborating with anyone. Branach Levi-san and I came here alone. We are not part of any anarchist movement.”