Amy Foster - The Rift Frequency

Captain Sato grits his teeth. He doesn’t believe me. “Then I ask again, why are you here? Did you think we would just tell you to go away? Did you think there would not be consequences for your actions? We could lock you up for as long as we wish. Along with the dishonor you have already brought to your family by your actions, would you have them fret and worry about your whereabouts? Tell me who else you are working with and I will make sure your parents know you are safe.”

I roll my eyes just a fraction and give a little laugh. “Oh come on … No one has ever tried to break in here before? I can’t believe I’m the first rebellious teenager to try.” I emphasize the word teenager . It’s imperative that Sato believes that’s all I am.

“No civilian has ever been stupid enough to try such a thing, young and ‘rebellious’ or not. Kayanpu Joryoku is for military personnel only.”

I take a moment to process this information. I stare at the captain, whose heart rate has slowed, but who is nonetheless still agitated. “Just to be clear, then,” I begin slowly, “no civilian has been on this base or is on this base presently?”

The man stands and leans over the table. “Of course not. But do not think that you are special. This is not some sort of achievement. You won’t be bragging to your anarchist friends about what you’ve done by the time we have finished with you here.”

He’s threatening me again, and I really don’t like to be threatened. I like it even less that his idea of a perfect society includes the notion that it’s okay to torture a seventeen-year-old girl. I could kill him right now if I wanted. I could reach over and break his neck before anyone could get in to help him. I’ve killed like this before—quick, unthinking. I don’t enjoy doing it, but I do enjoy the power of knowing I have the ability to do it.

This is part of the darkness in me. All Citadels carry this weight, these shadows. But, unlike some of the others, I don’t deny the rage. I’m a rabid dog in a cage. I keep the cage locked with the help of my family and friends, and with discipline and purpose. I have a purpose here today—to find out if Ezra is here—and this self-important man has just helped me achieve it. I won’t have to let that dog loose.

“Thank you for answering my questions,” I say as I stand up. “I will be leaving now. For your own safety, I am warning you not to try and stop me.”

“I don’t think you understand what’s going on here. I am the one asking the questions!” Sato shouts as he jumps up from his chair.

I actually laugh aloud, much to Sato’s chagrin. I look him up and down. “Are you? Really? ” And with that I walk toward the door. He races to stop me, yanking my arm back and actually pulling my hair. Good Lord, these are the people on this Earth who won the Second World War? Sissy hair pullers?

Faster than he can react, I reach down with my free hand, undo the holster at his waist, and grab his gun. I could shoot him, but that would be messy and noisy. Instead, I remove the clip and it falls to the concrete floor with a tinny clang. I check briefly to make sure there isn’t a bullet in the chamber and, finding there isn’t one, I fieldstrip the gun and release it from my hand with all the sass of a mic drop.

I really don’t like this Earth.

Sato’s eyes widen in surprise as he backs away. I have to be quick now, because any second, whoever is watching us through the two-way mirror will burst through the door.

I walk toward him and he distances himself so that we are facing each other. I look over his shoulder into the mirror and because I just can’t resist, I give a slight bow. Then, I pick Sato up, lift him high above my head, and—with all my strength—throw the captain through the mirror. He crashes through and lies still. He’s probably not dead, but I really don’t have time to wonder. The soldiers behind the broken glass scramble and push an alarm.

The siren’s wail is not loud enough to cover up the gunshot I hear.

Shit. Levi.

Our Citadel uniforms will protect us from a bullet to the body, but not the head. If he were a member of my team from back home, I probably would have stuck around to make sure he didn’t need my help.

But I know Levi can handle himself.

I kick down the door to the interrogation room and start running. I have an advantage here. I know this base level by level. I know what is behind every corner. I zip past the soldiers as they begin to open fire, and though one bullet manages to land on my shoulder blade, it doesn’t penetrate my suit. That’s not to say it doesn’t sting like hell, but I heal fast, and it doesn’t slow me down in the slightest.

I make my way to an old escape hatch and find it already open, which means Levi has gotten out. I race through the forest, the soldiers chasing after me. There’s no way any one of these men or women can catch me on foot. I don’t know exactly how fast I can run, but when I’m really pushing it like I am now, it’s hard for the human eye to track me. I slow down at the site where Levi and I had stashed our equipment.

“What took you so long?” he asks me with a straight face. Coming from anyone else this might be considered humor, but not with Levi. He’s trying to work the laptop, which is tough, since he’s holding his other hand straight up in the air. His palm is bleeding like a stigmata.

“At least I didn’t get shot,” I snap back.

“Ezra isn’t there?”

I pull my pack up onto my shoulders. “Don’t tell me you weren’t able to figure that out during your interrogation?” I nudge Levi out of the way so that I’m the one facing the laptop. I have two working hands, which means I can get us out of here faster.

“No one asked me any questions. I suppose they thought you would break first.” I involuntarily snort, and Levi wisely says nothing more. I drag Ezra’s quantum signature icon into the running program and wait for a Rift to open. When it does, I hear something, an ever so slightly high-pitched frequency. I certainly heard sound inside the Rift, but now it seems like I’m hearing it outside of it as well.

“Do you hear that?” I ask Levi, just to make sure.

“What? Something other than boots on the ground headed our way? Let’s just go!”

While I want to figure out what the hell I’m hearing, I don’t argue. I stuff the laptop into Levi’s bag and wait for him to hand over the carabiner. I give it a tug and a long thin wire drags out so that I can clip on to a loop in the leather breastplate of my uniform. We’re attached but not touching. Levi expels the air from his lungs and closes his eyes. I keep mine open and follow the music as we jump into the Rift.

Like a dirty shirt inside a washing machine, once again I’m spinning in the Rift’s emerald mouth. The sound is so much louder this time. It burrows into my ears and latches on to my brain. An orchestra, a hundred orchestras, tuning their instruments to a single note. I must figure out a way to combat the disorientation if we’re going to keep doing this.

It’s a struggle, but I manage to focus my eyes. Still, I’ve waited too long in accomplishing this one small thing. The green is almost behind me. I see a slit of light ahead, and then before I can steady or upright myself, Levi and I are pitched forward.

Immediately I know that something is wrong. Not only am I gasping for air, but the sky on this Earth is sickly yellow. My hands and face, the only places where my skin is exposed, are burning. Levi and I scramble. He opens his pack and pulls out his laptop, bubbles of burnt flesh starting to form on his hands. On top of the fact that he’s already been shot, he must be in considerable pain.