The Rift Uprising (30 page)

Edo takes two large knapsacks out of the bottom of the cabinet and struggles with the weight before depositing them on the bed in front of me. “I am an imperfect creature,” she admits. “I have made mistakes, but I believe the Citadels can outsmart ARC and travel through the Rifts, being the ambassadors we created you to be.”

I furiously grab the side of the bed and lean forward. Edo jumps with my sudden movement. “Let me just get something straight with you: You did not
create
me; my mom and dad did. You experimented on me, you brainwashed me, you abused me, you turned me into a killer. If you had wanted us to be ambassadors, I'm fairly certain we skipped that part of the training.”

Edo does not look away. It's hard to stay mad at someone who is clearly trying to help me and who also looks like a cute cartoon character.

I stay a little mad anyway, because she also has been a part of the program that kept me a monster.

“Like I said, we had much different intentions with the Citadel program, but it was taken out of our hands.”

“Yeah—like
you
said.”

“I do not understand your logic,” Edo says while giving an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “You say you do not trust me, and yet you want answers you will not take as truth. You tell me that you must save Ezra Massad, but you stand here debating philosophy and diplomacy. What will it be, Citadel? We can continue this discussion or I can tell you my plan—you decide.”

I fight the overwhelming urge to kick something. I hate having to put any kind of faith in Edo, but as it stands, I see no other choice.

“Okay, let's hear this plan of yours,” I say.

“You and Ezra, you have to leave. You have to go through The Rift. These packs are full of supplies. Inside are provisions—hazmat suits, gas masks, medical supplies, clothing for both hot and cold climates, tents, and a computer that contains all the information we have on how to open a Rift and how to follow Ezra's quantum signature through each one until you get to his version of Earth. I've also included a detailed schematic of the device you'll be using with very straightforward instructions on how to operate it.” Edo's smooth and shiny rocklike face is devoid of emotion. This sounds reasonable to her. It sounds like something very different to me.

It sounds like the beginning of an old Fantastic Four comic.

However, for all her sound logic and calm reasoning, she's left out one key explanation. “And what are you getting out of this, Edo? It seems like if I leave and ARC figures out where I've gone, you're screwed. They'll kill you.”

Edo does not look frightened at this notion. She doesn't seem scared by this idea at all, which I find interesting—and
troubling. “I am getting proof. I expect that you will escort Ezra to his Earth and then return here to this one with the data. I think that is a fair trade for my help.”

I don't say anything about her motives. She's proven time and time again that she operates within the gray areas of honesty. She'll help me, but only as far as it will help her. For all I know, she put together these packs the moment I confronted her about the implants. There's no point in asking her more questions about it. I'm never going to get the whole truth from her. I open up one of the bags and look inside. Even if she is lying about other things, the system they built
does
work and the Rifts are navigable. I don't need to take her word for it. This morning—with them finding Ezra, and our earlier fight with the Karekin—is proof enough.

The things she listed seem to be there. We may be well prepared, but there's no way that she could prepare us for everything we could potentially encounter. “Is this laptop the only place you have these signatures stored?”

Edo cocks her head to one side. She wasn't prepared for me to ask this question.

“No,” she answers reluctantly.

“So, technically, anyone could find us. That seems like a flaw in the plan. And besides, if we make it through, why would I ever risk coming back here? I would be shot on sight. Just like Ezra, I would be too dangerous to keep alive.” I laugh a little as I pick up one of the packs.

“Please do not attempt to convince me you are someone other than who you are. You would never leave your family or your team behind. You are honorable; you will return to them and you will return my favor today by letting us know that the QOINS function in the way we believe they will. Besides, you don't need to use an existing Rift to travel back
to this Earth. You can open one anywhere, somewhere less conspicuous.” I grab the other pack and heft it onto my free shoulder.

“The coins?” I ask.

“Yes, the Quantum Operating Interdimensional Navigating System. We felt the acronym was appropriate given that it needs two parts—the Head and the Tail. I don't think I need to clarify where the heads are located.”

“That's cute, yeah. Great, I got it. But what I don't think
you
get is that ARC might not know where I've gone, but they are going to know that
you
let me escape.”

Edo shakes her head. “Let me worry about ARC and Colonel Applebaum. I will tell them exactly what they need to hear.” I scrunch up my eyebrows. I can only assume she will lie on my behalf, but what if she's been working with them the whole time? The further into this I get, the more complicated it becomes. “After you leave here, you must retrieve a Tail—the other part of the QOINS—from the storage facility room 81B. It will be heavily guarded. Then you must go to the intake area of the bunker to rescue Ezra Massad, who will also be under heightened security protocols.”

I give Edo a burning look. “Oh, cool, is that all? I thought this was going to be hard. So first I have to go beat down some soldiers before they call for backup. Then I have to pull a
Mission: Impossible
thing with some piece of technology I've never even seen. Then I have to drag all this stuff and my sedated and possibly tortured boyfriend out to The Rift site. No problem at all.” I roll my eyes. I don't see how in the hell I can do any of that alone. “Where is my team?”

“Foxhole two. I'm sure they will assist once you get to The Rift. And I do suggest you use the existing Rift here instead of the QOINS right now. We know this Rift is viable and you can
enter it quickly. Until you get a better understanding of the technology, I believe that would be the more prudent option.”

It had never occurred to me to try to open a Rift on my own. The idea that I can seems crazy. I consider, for a moment, my options. Something is beginning to take shape in my head, something inescapable. Something awful. I can't leave without telling my story to as many Citadels as I can. The truth has to come
from me,
firsthand. That part is imperative. I also can't leave without making sure that after my story is told, the Citadels who hear it will be safe. The other obvious advantage to leaving is that I not only save Ezra's life but most likely my own as well. Applebaum will be watching me like a hawk, making sure the fake reprogramming has stuck. If I'm going to dismantle ARC, how can I do that if every decision I make and everywhere I go is monitored and picked apart?

If
I go.

If I choose to leave, my options have narrowed down to one inevitable, terrifying truth. I told Henry that the time line for this might have to change and that we would adapt, because we were good at that. I'm about to put that theory to the test. I'm going to need Edo's full cooperation in order for the ultimate end game here and at HQ in Livermore to work. I might not get another chance to land the Roones squarely on my side. It would be careless of me to leave, though, without some kind of tangible proof that I can trust her.

“I'll go. I'll go and test your device for you,” I offer, “on one condition.”

Edo's eyes widen just a fraction, as if she would be raising her eyebrows if she had any. “You have very little bargaining power, Ryn. Choose your words carefully.”

I don't believe that. She doesn't want just any Citadel to be the first to Rift out. She wants
me
. That's leverage enough.

“I want your laptop. I want your personal files. I want to know what you don't want ARC to know.”

For a long moment Edo says nothing. The onyx of her skin reflects brightly in the harsh fluorescent light. It almost hurts my eyes to look directly at her small, smooth head. “It's entirely in Roonish,” she finally says.

“You can provide a flash drive with the whole lexicon,” I counter.

“It's in code,” Edo says right away.

“Ezra can break it.”

Edo looks away, considering. If she wants me to trust her, here is her test.

“I could just take it,” I say with bravado. “I could just march into your office and take the damn thing. You couldn't stop me, not physically. You can't call security, because I have these two packs here that prove we are working together.”

Edo sighs slowly. I've got her and she knows it. Then she surprises me by letting out a short laugh that sounds like a pickax striking granite. “The laptop will provide you with answers, Citadel, but that doesn't mean you'll necessarily understand the truth.”

I shrug. “Not
necessarily,
no. But it's better than being in the dark about all these lies.”

“Fine. I will give you my laptop and my language, and then you will go off and begin your great quest. But you must really leave now, Ryn. If my laptop is the price I must pay for your obedience in this matter, then I will comply.”

Edo turns on her heel and walks briskly out of the room. When she returns five minutes later she has her computer and a flash drive in her hand. I take them from her and shove them into one of the packs.

“Just so we are absolutely clear—because I don't want any
backpedaling later on, you understand that, by agreeing to do this, it means that we're in this together? We're on the same side, Citadels and Roones.” I pick up the other pack.

“I understand that it is part of your training to attempt to get such a guarantee, but I do not believe it is necessary.”

“That's not an answer.” I deliberately remain where I am so that Edo sees I am not going to move unless I get one.

“Fine. I will do everything I can to make sure you are safe, and to keep ARC in the dark about your whereabouts. I cannot guarantee anything beyond that. I cannot speak for every Roone, just as you cannot speak for every Citadel.”

I may not be able to speak for every Citadel, but I know that not one of them would want the implant left where it is. That truth is compelling enough for me to do what I know I have to do next. If I explain this to Edo she will try to stop me. She may even decide that her assistance is no longer a fair trade. Her desire to get home has led us to this moment every bit as much as the moment I decided to break into the Village. Like I've said before, every future is made up of a series of past choices. “That sounds fair,” I say as I back up. “I'll see you when I get back.”

“Be safe, Citadel Ryn,” she says with as much warmth as her scratchy voice will allow. “And be smart.”

I nod and smile, but all I can think is that it's already far too late for that.

I keep my head down as I walk quickly toward the elevators. I am frustrated that I have to carry these two huge bags with me. It's unusual for a Citadel to carry anything other than a weapon, and I know if I don't double-time through the hallways someone is going to notice.

I catch the elevator down to the lowest level. When the door opens, I am met with an armed soldier standing in front of a caged metal gate.

“What are you doing here?” he demands. “You aren't authorized to be here.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I say even as I throw one of the packs at him, which he catches. It gives me enough time to drop the other pack and leap onto the cage behind him. I hold on backward to metal holes in the gate and then quickly wrap my legs around his neck. I squeeze my thighs and apply pressure.
I am not going to kill him, just choke him long enough for him to lose consciousness. The pack drops from his hands. He struggles and reaches for his sidearm, which I kick away swiftly with one of my legs. He holds on to a thigh, digging his fingers in, trying to get me to let go. The suit absorbs most of his futile efforts. Poor guy; he doesn't have a chance. After a few seconds, he falls to the floor. He's out. I prop him up and open one of his eyes long enough so that the scanner can read his iris. The gate opens. I put him in the entryway to stop it from closing—and momentarily feel bad for using a living person as a doorstop. I get over it, though. Then I go and retrieve the packs. Once they are on my back, I step over the soldier to get inside the long narrow hallway of the storage area.

I drag the man to the first door. I crouch down and reach for his swipe card that's hanging from his neck. I swish it through the machine and the door opens. It's not the room where the Tail is being kept, but I have to stash this guy somewhere. I drag him inside and take his com system. I break the door handle so he'll be locked in with no way to call for help. I decide to leave my packs just outside the door. Speed is the key to success here, and those bags are making this ten times harder than it needs to be.

As soon as I step out, I see another guard. He looks at me and narrows his eyes. I watch as his hand goes toward his ear so that he can call for backup.
Sorry, pal—not going to happen
. I run at him full speed and knock him to the ground. I stand over him and take his head in my hands. He's putting up a fairly good fight, his leg kicking up, trying to get me.

It's cute.

I bang the back of his head on the cement floor twice. He's out, too. I take his com unit and destroy it under my boot heel. I open the door closest to me, pick him up, and throw
him into it, breaking another door handle so that he can't escape. I have to move quickly. I have no idea how often these troops have to check in. I run past doors, checking each one for the number I need.

Once I reach it, I open the door. I suppose I was expecting a small room, one the size of a supply closet or something, because it's supposed to be storing a Tail, which is supposedly only about four by four inches. That's not what I see. The room is large and fifty feet long, maybe longer. The built-in shelves on either side make the narrow room seem even skinnier. I go to the closest shelf and open a box—it's filled with Tails. My stomach drops. I look at the room, and see the shelves are filled with identical boxes.

My God . . .

There isn't just one Tail. Every shelf, from top to bottom, holds
hundreds
. And there are so many shelves . . .

They really do mean to send all of us through The Rift. I stop for a moment and think about the numbers. I was the fifth crop of Citadels. There were five hundred of us when I began. There are now another three hundred, with another seven hundred implanted and waiting to come of age. If I add the number of Citadels from the other Rifts using the same math, that's more than twenty thousand soldiers. Next year, the number gets bigger. I don't know what it would take to stop that many of us. Nuclear bombs, maybe?

I could destroy all the Tails, but ARC would only build more. Besides, there are thirteen other Rift sites. I have no doubt they have storage facilities just like this one. Something needs to change, but getting rid of the QOINS is not going to do it. I quickly grab three of the Tails and run back the way I came. I go into the room where the packs are and find the
soldier is still passed out. That's good, at least. I shove two of the Tails into one of the packs and then the single one into another. I heft the packs back onto my shoulders and run for the elevator. So far, this part of what I need to do was easy. I doubt the next part will be the same.

I exit the elevator and walk quickly in the direction of the intake area. I stand in front of the retinal scan to get into the section. Adrenaline starts to pump through me. Applebaum could have already locked me out of the system, I have no idea. The scanner reads my eye and I hold my breath until the machine beeps and lights up green. I'm in. They haven't taken away my clearance. I briskly take myself down the hall. No one seems to be paying much attention to me, which is kind of weird. I am a Citadel in uniform with two large knapsacks. Maybe they are afraid to stare at Citadels—afraid it will annoy us and we'll go off. They probably think we are monsters.

They're probably not far off.

I assume that one of the intake rooms serves as an interrogation room. It's got the two-way mirror so that everything can be observed, and the equipment so that everything can be recorded—although I know that Applebaum won't be recording
everything
he plans on doing with Ezra. I go to the door that Greta took me to, the one where I saw the Maribeh intake. I actually don't want to be on this side of the room, but I am not sure where the other door—the one I watched the Maribehs walk in from—is in this maze. I'll start here and think of something.

Before I can reach the handle, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Ryn, hey, what's with all the stuff?” It's Kendrick and he's looking at the two packs with interest. What do I do? Can I trust him? I don't trust anyone in here really, but I don't think
he's the enemy. He may be self-serving and have an agenda, but I don't think he would be down with murdering an Immigrant just because he escaped from the Village.

I take his shirt in my fist and pull him down lower so he can hear me. It has the added benefit of showing him just how strong I am, in case he needed a reminder. I angle my head behind him so that no one can see what I am saying. “I need to get into that room. You're about to question a hostile, correct?”

Kendrick pulls away from me and scans my face intently with his deep brown eyes. “What's going on?” he asks in a tone more serious than I've ever heard from him. “Ezra Massad is in there, and the brass say he murdered a guard in the Village. Is that true?”

“No, of course not. He did escape, but that has nothing to do with why he's in that room.”

Kendrick tries to pull away from me but finds he really can't budge me. That surprises him, but I don't want him alarmed, so I let him go. Just by reading his face I can tell he isn't going to help me unless I give him more. “You know he's a computer genius, right? Well, his job in the Village was to look over data and decode algorithms. He found something. He figured out something that ARC doesn't want him sharing. Once you're finished with him, Applebaum is going to have Ezra killed. I heard Applebaum say it when he thought I was tranqued.”

Kendrick is looking at me like I've sprouted two heads. He doesn't believe me. I clench my jaw and I feel my back teeth grind together. I might as well go all in now, or else Kendrick will force my hand—literally.

“ARC has a way to navigate the Rifts. The implants in our heads aren't implants; they're tracking devices and part of a
locating system. They're going to use us, the Citadels, to conquer, or colonize, or . . . I don't fucking know, okay? But everything ARC has told us about who we are and what we're doing here is a lie. If I don't get Ezra away from here, he is going to die. Are you going to help me?” I notice that others are looking at us now. I don't need this kind of attention.

Kendrick takes a good long look at me. This time his face is unreadable. “You realize you sound totally delusional, right? Like you need a psych eval.”

I grab his shirt again, even harder this time. He jerks forward. Kendrick's eyes widen.

“Don't be an idiot. You've seen Ezra. You think he's capable of murdering someone? What makes more sense: Ezra being a coldhearted killer? Or ARC—who has kept this whole thing secret, and by the way,
did
this to me without anyone's consent—lying?”

Kendrick places his hands over my own and I look down at them, and then up at him. I raise my eyebrow, as if asking, “What do you think you're going to do here?”

He pulls his hands back, holding them up like he's surrendering, so I let him go. He backs up. “Fine, I'll help you. But let's get one thing clear: You don't ever touch me again, and you protect me if this goes sideways.”

“Agreed,” I say. I don't even smile at the thought of him threatening me.

“I'll get him out of the room. Just wait here and try not to look like you're about to snap someone's neck. Be cool.”

I open my mouth to warn him not to tell me what to do, but he's already gone. Minutes tick by. People pass and I lean against the wall, with the two packs at my feet, trying to look casual. The people walking by don't look at me. I am not sure whether or not this is because I am succeeding with my act
that it's just a normal day at the office, or because I am a Citadel and the other personnel in the base instinctively avoid us.

Kendrick is remarkably fast. He emerges from the intake room with Ezra, who is wearing military sweats with the ARC logo. At least they had provided him something to wear other than the boxers he was captured in. He, too, must have been given something to counteract the tranquilizer. His eyes are sharp and focused, but there is a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. He is scared but keeping it together.

“I told the other intake officers that I was taking him to medical. You don't have much time before they figure out he's not there. I hope you have a plan,” Kendrick says warily.

“I do. Just keep your head down, and whatever happens, try to stay out of the way. I'll make sure to tell my team that you helped me today. They'll look out for you.”

Kendrick watches with obvious curiosity as I heave a pack over my shoulder and give the other one to Ezra. Kendrick must have questions, but he is smart enough not to ask them, smart enough to know that I probably wouldn't tell him the entire truth—if any version of the truth at all—so there is no point in demanding answers.

“You're a good Citadel, Ryn,” Kendrick says kindly, “but you're a better person. If you say there is something going on that isn't on the level, then I believe you. I care about the Immigrants. It's my life's work. I need you to know that. When they brought Ezra in, I knew they were being cagey about it. I'm happy to help get him out of here.”

It's nice to know that not every adult in ARC is a jerk. It's nice to know that there is at least one person, just an ordinary flesh-and-blood person without superhuman abilities, who's willing to put it all on the line to do what's right. “Thank you, Kendrick. I really mean that.”

I begin to walk down the hall, leaving Kendrick behind. Ezra is beside me, matching my steps. He turns to say something to me, but I silence him with a look. I want to touch him. I want to hug him, kiss his mouth, feel with my own body that he is okay. But more than that, I want to get out of here.

We wind around several corridors and then take the elevator up to the floor where the transport bay is located. Adjacent to the double doors that lead to the outside is a smaller, unassuming one. I crack it open and pull Ezra into the room. It's one of the armory rooms, but of course, it isn't empty. There is a counter running the length of the room and a large bulletproof Plexiglas wall. A soldier sits at a desk on the other side of it.

“I'll take the Glock 19 with three clips and a set of zip ties.”

He looks familiar, though he's not posted here on a regular basis. He has a burliness to him that makes me think he must be a Marine, but it's hard to tell. After a while, the troops all started to look the same to me. I don't know whether that's because there's a certain type of soldier ARC chooses to work here, or because I stopped really looking. The soldier glares at Ezra and then me. I do not break eye contact. I cannot reveal that there is anything out of the ordinary going on.

The young man goes to one of the many large black metal sets of drawers. He unlocks the top shelf and retrieves the gun, and then from another set of drawers, the clips I had asked for. Finally he gets the zip ties. He passes the items through a window that he unlocks from his end and slides them onto the long counter between us. I take the clips and put them in various flak pockets. When I get the gun, I look it over and then cock it back. “I'm feeling a little resistance. When was the last time it was cleaned?”

The soldier looks at me sideways. I hate this look I get from
newer ARC military, like, “What the hell would a little girl know about a gun?”

“Yesterday,” he says with a slightly irritated tone. “Did it myself.”

“Well, maybe I'm imagining it. Why don't you come out here and have a feel for yourself?” I keep my tone neutral.

He sighs loudly and exits through a metal door.

I have kept the gun out, ready for him to take, but as soon as he's close enough I hit him with it square in the nose. Blood immediately starts pouring out of his face. Rather than reeling back, as I assumed he would, he lunges for me. I manage to spin us around just before my head hits the concrete of the far wall behind us. I quickly maneuver my feet to the side so I can run them up the wall. I scramble up high enough to flip in the air and land behind him. I take the Glock and hit him in the back of the head. The soldier staggers. I hit him again and he goes down, unconscious.