RIFT (The Rift Saga Book 1) (6 page)

“Shit, that was close,” Julian said. “Are you okay?”

Sue nodded, dazed. She had just killed five people. That was in addition to the five or so killed back by the tree line. And the last one was a woman her own age. A prisoner. Nausea was quickly building up.

“Hey!” she heard Julian say, distant at first. “Hey! Don’t break down on me now, Sue. You did what you had to do. Let’s just do what we came to do and get the hell out of here.”

Sue could feel a calm coming that didn’t seem completely natural.
The AI
, she thought, as her mind began to focus on the task at hand. She breathed deeply, and exhaled, the nausea gone and composure regained.

“You got a charge ready?” she asked. Julian nodded and tried to reach his pocket on his left side with his good hand. He fumbled a little, and Sue reached over.

“Let me,” she said. Their eyes met, and she noticed his half-smile behind his visor. She looked away and reached into his pocket, grabbing the multi charge. She walked over to the rocket launcher, which looked intact still, with just a few small dents from the small-arms fire. She placed the charge beside the firing mechanism, so that it would inflict the most damage.

“Let’s go,” she said, keeping her eyes away from Julian’s.

They walked for a couple of minutes, Sue in front, weapon ready. Just in case. Once Sue thought they were far enough away, they stopped. Sue took out a small controller unit and pressed a button. After a moment, a red light turned green, and she pressed the button again.

The blast wasn’t as powerful as she remembered from training. But here, in these woods, all sounds were muffled by foliage. They waited for half a minute before resuming their walk. Neither of them spoke. Instead, Sue switched to team frequency.

“Two-One-Bravo, this is Two-Four-Bravo.”

“This is Two-One-Bravo. You guys done yet?” Tac Hordvik answered.

“Affirmative. Any news on exfil?” Sue hoped the airship would be there in time to save Quinn and get them out before the enemy realized they had wounded Janissaries that would be an easy target if they came in force. The tacticus remained silent for a few seconds before replying.

“We have a go for exfil. So get your butts over here A.S.A.P., before the big shots decide to leave without you.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll be there. Two-Four-Bravo out.”

“You hear that?” she said to Julian.

“Yeah. Let’s get a move on.”

They ran as quickly as they could, and Sue worried that if an enemy spotted them, they would be defenseless. But there were no more enemies around, and they soon reached the clearing where the others were waiting, just as the airship arrived. Keisha ran a few meters off and began directing the airship as it lowered toward them. Once it hung just five meters or so above ground, a cage that looked like a cross between a basket and an elevator was lowered. Two heavily armored airmen, sporting some fancy weaponry Sue didn’t recognize, leapt out and covered the Janissaries. Two medics lifted Quinn onto a stretcher and carried him into the cage. Julian followed right behind, clutching his damaged hand.

“Shouldn’t we pick up Brad?” she said to Tac Hordvik, who looked like he was about to fall over from blood loss. He just shook his head.

“He’s gone, either way, Atlas. Care for the living.” Keisha came running, and Sue followed her in. Once his team was inside, Tac Hordvik ushered the airmen to follow, and he got in last. The cage quickly rose up inside an opening in the belly of the airship. The doors underneath them banged shut, and they exited the basket and strapped themselves into seats in the back.

Once the airship picked up speed, Sue finally let herself relax. She took off her helmet and laid her head back. She was restless, though, and she could feel her hands begin to shake. No magic injections from the AI this time, now that she wasn’t in any immediate danger.

Her mind was racing. Could she have done anything differently? How would the tacticus feel about her taking charge back there? Why did that woman have to draw that gun on her? What if she had disarmed her properly in the first place, would the woman be alive now? She had killed people…

Tac Hordvik scooted over to sit beside her. She could see he was in pain and wondered why he hadn’t received any painkiller meds yet. They sat quiet for a moment, and she was the first to break the silence between them.

“I’m sorry, Tac. I shouldn’t have run off like that. Injury or no injury, you are still my superior…”

He waved her off.

“You did well out there, Atlas. If not for your quick thinking, we’d still be down there, and Quinn would be dead for sure. For an initiate, you sure did raise hell today.” He grinned, as she blushed.

“Okay… Are you sure, I mean, Tac…” He shook his head.

“What you did out there today took a lot of courage. You did the right thing, even though it could have cost you, had you pulled that on someone else. Me, I don’t care about any of that.” He smiled again and offered his hand. She took it and returned his firm grip.

“Oh, and Sue, my first name isn’t Tac. It’s Evan. Evan Hordvik.” Sue laughed softly. The day had been so full of loss and hardship, but in the end, she had gained a new friend.

Chapter 6

MARK

Every time he visited in an official capacity, he tried not to wince when the locals tried to impress him. To be honest, he wasn’t an easy man to impress. After all, if he hadn’t seen it all, no one had. So he smiled and nodded as he exited the airship and stepped onto solid ground. The flags and fanfare, the ranking officers, the honor guard… It was all background noise to him. To be endured, so that he could do what he had come for. To get an impression of the state of the northern defenses, to see for himself how things were, unpolished and rough, and so much more reliable than the reports they received back in Legacy.

He’d been to Camp Sharpe before, but the visit he was thinking of as he walked on the concrete airpad was the one he’d made before the Fall. The memory that was so old, it was hard to distinguish from fantasy, but some details were vivid enough to make him forget that it had been more than two centuries ago. He’d been with his girlfriend at the time, a cute little thing called Wendy. He chuckled. There had been a few, back when he was quite the eligible bachelor. But he’d really believed in that relationship, for a while, and taken her to this place, which had been known to be a romantic hotspot. The waterfalls had impressed him, and it was sad to know that none of these youngsters would ever see what he’d seen. Even the lakes had disappeared. But some things hadn’t changed. This was still on the border of this country. And even if it wasn’t the same country anymore, it was still his.

The small group approaching consisted of three newly minted Janissaries and one tacticus, all sworn to protect this northern border, and his way of life. He could see their commander, a tacticus of Moon blood, walked with a limp, although he seemed to try not to. Another wore an oversize bandage on his right hand. Two girls. Women, he corrected himself. Unharmed, from the looks of them. The last one lay on a stretcher, carried off by medics, to be taken to the camp hospital.
Too bad
, Mark thought. He would have liked to shake his hand.

The man walking beside him, Sub Strategos Janev, the commander of Camp Sharpe and a twenty-year veteran of Janissary training, beamed as the small group stopped in front of them, coming to attention as one.

“Tacticus Hordvik. I see you brought these fine young Janissaries safely back from quite a skirmish,” Janev said. He looked over at the one leaving the platform. “And from what I heard, that one over there will be just fine in a few weeks also. Well done.” He shook the younger man’s hand. The tacticus hesitated, and Mark thought he looked like he wanted to say something.

“Speak up, son, what is it?” Mark said. The tacticus, Hordvik, looked at him, and his eyes widened. Mark almost sighed. It was the same every time people realized who he was. The young man didn’t hesitate for long though.

“It’s, well, I don’t deserve this, sir,” he said. The sub strategos laughed, about to wave it all off as modesty, but the tacticus spoke again.

“This woman deserves the credit, sir. When pinned down and under fire, she single-handedly took out five enemies and a tactical rocket launcher. That was after she and this man incapacitated a nest of enemies that was about to slaughter us all. If not for her, none of us would be alive now.” Mark looked at the young woman, who was blushing from the praise. She had long, dark hair, tied up in a knot, hazel eyes, and a look about her that told him this wasn’t any ordinary youngster, picked up to serve and die. This woman was leadership material, and there was something there that he recognized instantly. A willingness to do the right thing, no matter the cost. He cocked his head slightly.

Sub Strategos Janev grinned.

“I promise I’ll read the report, Hordvik, and if it is as you claim, I believe we have a distinguished merit under fire medal coming, don’t you?” He laughed and turned to Mark.

“Not bad for a green initiate on her first combat patrol. I told you we’re training some fine young Janissaries up here, Counselor.” Mark smiled back, eyeing the young woman sideways. She was staring straight ahead.

“You can say that again, Janev. I’m impressed.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’m told you have a tradition here, when initiates become full Janissaries…”

“Oh, yes, Survivor Night. Well, it’s not much to someone like you…” Janev said. Mark pressed on.

“I would very much like to join these fine young men and women. In fact, I was planning to ask you for a favor, but I understand it is custom that a high-ranking officer attends.” Janev looked puzzled. Mark smiled. In order to get foot soldiers talking, he usually tried to get the officers out of the way.

“Now though, while you gather the information I need, I could take your place at this... dinner. I would love to get a chance to speak to them, and this way, you get the work done faster.” He didn’t wait for a reply. Whatever Mark Novak decided, a mere sub strategos would obey. Even if the blustering Janev was Moon people and he was not. Mark motioned for his attendants to follow, as he walked toward the suites prepared for him. Sub Strategos Janev remained standing for a moment before following.

Obedient dog
, Mark thought.
Born to rule and all that
. He wondered what it would take, for someone with the power to make some real decisions, to see as he did that the system needed reform, or it would fall. The way things were heading, the Covenant wasn’t sustainable. It reminded him too much of the systems he’d read about in history books, back in the old world. Systems that exploited the many for the gain of the few. A part of him wished for reforms, while another part secretly wished for the system to come crashing down. The one thing that frightened him, though, every time these thoughts came to him, was that if the latter happened, he would certainly be among the first to fall.

SUE

Ever since she first arrived at Camp Sharpe, Sue had heard talk of Survivor Night. Indeed, every Janissary who had passed their final test for their JJ bar, whether that was actual combat or not, had been through this. And now it was her turn. She was marching slowly beside Tac Hordvik. Behind her, Keisha and Julian followed. It was more of a leisurely walk than a march, but such was the custom on Survivor Night.

There were other patrols, as well, and she recognized Laurie from back home limping in the back of one of the patrols. So, he was one of those who would enter true Janissary status with combat experience. Others, who clearly hadn’t seen combat, were staring at them, big-eyed and curious, although they looked weary, as well. The officers made sure no one got it the easy way.

Sue was acutely conscious that she must smell awful. No one was allowed to shower before Survivor Night—another Janissary tradition. They would wear their battle dress, complete with sweat, dirt, even blood, making the contrast to all the luxury even starker. The mess, usually nice enough but nothing lavish, would be decorated for the occasion.

Sub Meridian Hoston received them at the entrance. Although dirty from being out in the field with one of the patrols, he still looked like he had groomed himself, just a little. He had dark blond hair, short in the neck and on the sides, while the top had grown long enough to fall down on one side. He was probably around thirty, sporting a short, purple-dyed goatee that emphasized his grey eyes. Sue had seen him around camp, mostly just talking to the tacticus, passing down orders. Initiates never spoke to officers, and officers rarely bothered with initiates. Come to think of it, Sue had never seen him smile before, but now he did, a wide grin, ear to ear. He nodded to Tac Hordvik, who moved aside while Hoston opened a dark wooden box. Sue strained to see.

The box contained at least twenty small gold bars. The single bar of a Junior Janissary. The sub meridian pinned a gold bar to the lapel of her shirt first.

“Welcome, Janissary Atlas. May you reap honor,” he said, right fist to the heart, Janissary style. Sue repeated the salute.

“We reap what we sow. Service to the State,” she replied.

As soon as every member of her patrol had received their gold bar, they were let inside.

Sue stopped just inside, jaw agape. The mess was barely recognizable, and if she hadn’t known better, she would have believed this was one of those fine restaurants she had heard of, one of those found only in the big cities, or even just in Legacy itself.

Cloth draped the walls, the black and white of the Covenant, and the floor was covered in red carpets. She felt guilty for stepping on such fine fabric with her muddy boots. There were candelabras lining the walls, and the tables were set with delicate white tablecloths, with a long black cloth dividing it along the middle, with thick candles burning. In front of every chair, the tables were set with fine silverware. And the smell! She noticed the servants lined up by the far wall holding large, covered trays. She didn’t even know they had servants here in Camp Sharpe, but these looked like they had never done anything else their entire lives.

The headwaiter stepped forward and motioned for them to sit down, and Sue hesitantly took a seat beside Keisha, who was quick to pick her place. Tac Hordvik—Evan, she reminded herself—sat down on the other side. The servants began to serve the first course, a fish of some kind. It was red and cold and salty, and melted on the tongue. The fruit laid beside it was something she had never seen before. It tasted heavenly, though. It was far too little, and her stomach growled as soon as she finished off the last bite.

A door on the far side of the room opened, and when she saw who entered, she laid down her silverware, swallowing hard. Counselor Novak smiled as he sat down opposite her. A servant offered to serve the fish, salmon he called it, but the counselor declined. How could anyone decline such food? He took some wine instead, smelling it thoroughly before he sipped.

“So, Atlas. I’m looking forward to hearing your story,” he said, before turning toward Tac Hordvik.

“But first, tacticus, I must say I’m curious about you. I’ve heard very good things about you. The sub strategos tells me you have declined advancement more than once.” Hordvik didn’t say anything, and the counselor took another sip of his wine. He did something curious, which to Sue sounded like a gurgle. Then he swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Very nice…” he murmured, giving the headwaiter an approving nod. Then he looked back at the tacticus.

“Evan Hordvik, a tacticus in the Janissaries, risking his neck again and again, instead of taking command like his father would expect of him. Declined a placement on Strategos Command two years ago, refused to go to the Military Academy one year ago—again, since you had the opportunity three years ago, as well. Made your father very angry when you decided to stay with the Janissaries even after he got you a placement with the Luna Brigade. Now that was one choice I never did understand. Some people, myself included, who believed you had an urge to be in the best combat unit, expected you to embrace that placement. I thought perhaps the challenge would tempt you. Even you would have struggled to be accepted through their selection process.” Sue didn’t understand half of this, but she did understand that Hordvik had had several opportunities that most wouldn’t even dream of, and yet, he had chosen to remain with the Janissaries, a mere tacticus, when he could have been an officer a long time ago.

Sue almost didn’t notice the servants placing the next course before her, until the smell woke her. The deer steak—from the preserve, obviously—with carrots, potato puree, and a creamy sauce made her mouth water, and she had a hard time restraining herself. The counselor noticed, though, and smiled as he motioned for her to eat.

“Go on, Janissary, eat. You have deserved this.” She didn’t wait for him to repeat, and took a bite. The meat was like nothing she had had back home. So tender.

“So, Hordvik. Why would someone of the Moon people, especially someone from a prominent family like the Hordviks, choose to serve with the Janissaries? And to continue serving for years. You know what you are risking. You’re not like these kids from Charlestown or Holstonhead or Nevayrk. They don’t have as much to lose. Thirty more years, against the possibility to live forever, what’s that really, in the great scheme of things? But you are a Hordvik. So why?” Sue noticed the Evan’s eyes narrowed. It was as if she saw two equals speaking, making her acutely aware of her own status.

“You mean, why I choose to serve?” Hordvik said. Novak nodded.

“Why shouldn’t I serve?” Hordvik asked, giving the counselor a challenging stare. “Why shouldn’t I?” The counselor cocked his head, just a little. Sue remembered seeing his face on television, years ago. She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old. He looked exactly the same, except for the intensity of his eyes, never blinking. Television really didn’t convey every detail.

“Okay, I get it. You choose to serve. But what about command? A strategos serves just as a tacticus does. But you choose to remain a foot soldier. Why?” Sue took another bite, but even the savory food couldn’t distract her from the intensity of the conversation. Tac Hordvik eyed her, as if wondering whether to speak with an audience, but got a hard look as he turned his gaze back to the counselor.

“Service to the State. What does it really mean, Counselor?” He shook his head. “It has become empty words among my people. Why are we born citizens? Why are we automatically chosen for command? Those not of the Moon people; I’ve seen so many Janissaries from those small towns you mentioned, capable, intelligent people. Some of them are dead now. Others have chosen to extend their Service. Others again, are citizens today. They have earned it.” His voice was ice now, but Sue noticed a slight movement, as if the counselor was nodding.
Curious
, she thought. Horvik didn’t seem to notice, though.