The Rift Frequency

by Amy S. Foster

I’m practically speechless at each new thing he says, but this is almost too much. Instead of rendering me mute, this smacks me in the face and awakens an anger I didn’t realize was festering inside. I reply with an edge to my voice that makes Levi look at me with concern. “I assume it’s the whole humming, whistling, screeching thing, yeah?”

  I really dislike the fact that he knows something about me that I don’t understand.

  “Yes. The more direct exposure you get to—well, let’s just call it a type of radiation that exists inside of a Rift—the more this gene expresses itself. You can tell when someone is on an Earth they don’t belong to. But that’s just the beginning. There are very few Citadels like you. Not even the altered Roones know exactly how far you can take this anomaly. That’s why Edo let you go. It’s not because she cares about you or Ezra or any other Citadel. All she cares about is measuring and tracking the mutation of this gene of yours they altered.”

  “Well, that was incredibly shortsighted of her.”

  At this, Iathan belly laughs. He even translates what I’ve said into Karekin, which is actually Roonish, now that I come to think about it, and the rest of the room chuckles at my comment.

  “They are shortsighted indeed,” he says. “They also have no idea how far my network of spies reaches out. They think they are untouchable and infallible. A dangerous position to take in any war. Now”—Iathan stands and walks down the dais—“you’ve heard my story. I understand you may be reluctant to believe it. You have been lied to all your life, so I can only assume you believe that is what people in positions of authority do. I promise you. Not one falsehood has crossed my lips. I have no reason to lie to you. I could have just killed you—many, many times—I’ve certainly had the opportunities. The state of this city, the craters where entire blocks used to be, is not enough. You and Levi are living reminders of why we fought this war. I would like to explore what working together might look like. Would that be of interest to you?”

  I look around the room. These people have technology and answers that we need, but at the end of the day, they are Roones, and every Roone I’ve met, including Iathan, is an arrogant weirdo.

  “Maybe,” I say noncommittally. I glance over at Levi, who gives me a silent nod of approval.

  I’m a bit surprised when Iathan agrees with my reluctance. “Yes—’maybe.’ I understand your reservations, and honestly, I have my own. We would need to depend on one another in life-or-death situations, and truthfully, regardless of your many skills, you’re a child. Not just that, you’re a natural rule breaker and I’m not sure you can control your emotions.”

  “I can control my emotions just fine,” I tell him without expression.

  “Well, let us put that theory to the test, shall we?” He gestures to Froome, who leaves with a curt nod. While we are waiting, the tension in the air heightens. I don’t like being tested and I really don’t like being called a child.

  I will cop to being a rule breaker, though.

  Froome eventually returns, and limping quietly behind him is Ezra. If this is the test, it’s a goddamn good one, because it takes all I have not to run to him as I watch them make slow progress toward us. Besides the fact that I’m so excited just to see him, I’m also anxious to get to him. Ezra is shirtless. His ribs are a patchwork of eggplant-colored bruises. His face is a wreck. His nose is clearly broken, and dried blood is caked all over his cheeks in scarlet striations. One eye is swollen completely shut. The other one is open, but the bright turquoise of his iris is ringed neon red. His entire face is falling at opposite angles, which makes me think his jaw has been broken. I dig my nails into my palms; the quick flash of pain holds me in check. I want to cry out to him.

  I want to leap forward and kill them all.

  I do nothing, though—nothing except file this away for later.

  They hurt him. Badly. For all their big talk about the altered Roones being as bad as Nazi scientists, no altered Roone ever did this to one of us, at least not directly. If Iathan is trying to win me over, he has failed spectacularly. My breath quickens. I don’t dare look at Levi because although I know he dislikes Ezra intensely, I also know he hates the idea of an unfair fight even more. If our eyes meet, we might slip back into Citadel behavior, where we protect the defenseless at all costs.

  If Iathan suspects any of this going on inside me, he doesn’t let it show as he says, “Now, I recognize that seeing your friend like this must be a shock. But please understand that we offered Ezra all our hospitality. In return, we caught him trying to access our mainframe to download sensitive information. This kind of breach cannot be tolerated. I hope you can understand our actions here.”

  Oh yeah, I understand. These Roones think they’re the good guys. They want me to believe that Ezra basically asked for this beating. Maybe if he raped one of them or cut one of their dicks off (an option I’m seriously considering at this point), then I might see this as a proper way to treat him. But all he did was hack them. He didn’t deserve this.

  As I stare at Ezra, I hear him struggling. Each breath catches with reedy shallowness. He falls to his knees, swaying. He needs medical attention, right now. My heart starts ticking like a bomb. I review my options. There are at least one hundred Karekins and Roones in here. Levi and I are no match for that kind of manpower. So all I can do is get to Ezra. I can let him know I’m here, that I’ve come for him, and surely, with the SenMach biotech I have in my pack, I can ease his suffering. I take a step forward, well aware that everyone, including Levi, is watching me intently. Ezra is now right beside Iathan up on the dais. I walk up the steps in controlled measures and then crouch down on my knees.

  “Ezra, I’ve got you. I’m right here.” I gently reach my hand out to his shoulder and my fingers go right through him. I look at Iathan, who is observing me with a curious intent. I wave my hands inside Ezra’s body, back and forth. This isn’t him. It’s a fucking projection. A hologram.

  “Really?” I say as I leap up.

  “Really,” Iathan tells me in a tone more serious than I had yet to hear from him. “I do apologize. Especially after my great speech about honesty. But I had to make sure that you really could control yourself in a highly charged emotional situation. I simply had no other way to gauge your maturity.”

  “Here’s a thought,” I snap back, “maybe you could have just spent some time with me? Had a few conversations? Done some listening instead of talking nonstop.” I pause to collect myself so that I can keep my voice level. “Don’t you ever do that again. I don’t like tests, and I like games even less. I think you get what I am in theory, but you really don’t seem to understand. I am faster than you, I am stronger than you, and I am smarter than you. I am your enemy’s greatest accomplishment. You remember that. You keep that thought in the back of your mind, and then maybe you can have this alliance you’re so jazzed about.”

  “Little bird,” Iathan coos.

  I hold up a single finger. “And do not call me that. My name is Ryn.” Iathan steps even closer to me. He smiles, and his skin picks up the light and glints subtly. I want to see it all covered in blood.

  “I would not be so quick to dismiss my nickname for you,” he says, not realizing that my being this close to him could be the most danger he’s ever been in. “A little bird needs protection, it needs nurturing and special care, which is no small thing from the president of a nation. Ryn, however, is just a soldier. And soldiers, especially around here, do not always survive.”

  “Neither do petty little shits who talk a big game but are stupid enough to let someone who isn’t exactly their friend get this close to them.” In the blink of an eye, I grab his shirt and lift him up off his “throne.” As Karekins shout and bring weapons to bear, I already have him back on his own feet and I’m standing with my hands behind my back, as if nothing has happened. “That feeling you have right now—that’s the feeling that maybe you’re not as in control as you think. And maybe this ‘little bird’ is more predatory than you g
ive her credit for. But I think you know that, and that’s why you want me on your side.

  “So why don’t you treat me—and Levi—with some fucking respect, okay? And do what you promised. Bring me Ezra. Now.”

  Chapter 21

  The tension is dissipating from the room, but I barely notice; I’m a spinning needle on a compass. I blink my eyes and swallow. It feels like there isn’t enough air in here. I want a window, a view, something I can look at outside even if it’s just a ruin of a city so that I can get my bearings.

  Without that, I do the only thing I can. I plant my boots on the concrete floor and hold my hands behind my back. I may not feel composed, but I’m not about to show it. Iathan has sent for Ezra, and while there is nothing I want more than to see him, I don’t want it to be here, not surrounded by Roones and Karekins. And definitely not Levi. But for all the bravado I just showed, I really can’t press my luck, meaning I have no say in how these next moments will play out. And that infuriates me. All I can do is stand here and wait. I grind my thumb into the joints of my index finger. I flex my toes inside my boots. I am not looking at Levi, but I can feel him. I can hear him. I don’t want him to see this. I don’t want him to see me seeing Ezra after all this time. The thought of hurting him makes my chest lurch in sympathy.

  Finally, Ezra, the real Ezra, walks out from a door behind the dais, escorted by two Karekins. My stomach flutters. I tear my gaze from Ezra and look quickly to Iathan, who has folded his hands under his bottom lip. He is far too fascinated to see how this will play out. But I am not his experiment.

  Screw it. Ezra is here and he looks fine, and good, and safe.

  I bound toward him. And then, like a miracle, we are in each other’s arms. I breathe him in, catching his woodsy smell at the nape of his neck. I hear his pulse soar. I can’t believe it. I found him. And despite the terrible odds of him coming out of this not only alive but in one piece, he’s okay. He really is. Ezra puts his hands around my face and pulls away. “You found me,” he whispers.

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have stopped until I did.”

  “I’m sorry about all those paranoid e-mails I sent you. I suppose you’ve figured out it was the Roones. Tracking me.”

  “Yeah. I mean, I get it now. But how? How did they find you?”

  “The QOINS is a lot more complex than they told us. The moment I activated it they were able to track me.”

  Of course. I blow out and nod my head. “It’s a lot, right?” I put my hands into his. “God, we were so fucking stupid to think that it was just about Battle Ground. I bet Edo is laughing her ass off thinking about us, imagining our faces when we figured out how deep this goes.”

  “I doubt Edo is capable of laughing like that. I would put her emotional capacity at mildly amused,” Levi pipes in from his chair. Ezra looks past my shoulder and I feel his body stiffen. His eyes narrow angrily. Why is he mad?

  “Really?” Ezra explodes and releases my hands. “Of all the people to bring with you, you choose this guy? The guy who threw me into the Rift? Wow.”

  Riiiight—I wasn’t thinking about that part. Ezra is beyond pissed—he’s furious.

  Levi wisely says nothing, simply stretches out his legs and crosses his arms. If there is a more universal sign for Come at me, bruh mixed with I know you’re threatened by me, but I’m so unconcerned by you, I don’t even need to get up off my chair, I can’t think of it. I have to cut this off before it becomes a pissing contest—or worse.

  “I brought the best soldier for the job. Beta Team needed to stay behind,” I emphasize. “They’re the only ones I trusted enough to keep Camp Bonneville under our control. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous these jumps are. I had to have the most capable Citadel at my side.” I don’t need to look at Levi to know he’s probably wearing a shit-eating grin on his face over that compliment.

  “He tried to kill me,” Ezra says, continuing to glower at Levi.

  “No, he didn’t,” I say, taking a step forward and gently guiding his face until his eyes connect with mine. As they do, they soften, and I put my hands back on Ezra’s body, as much for him as for me. He’s here. My hands still need reassurance that he’s right here. Safe. “He was trying to save me and he wasn’t thinking.”

  Iathan and his advisors are looking at us and then back at Levi, like it’s some kind of funny sketch we’re putting on. I don’t like it. It feels too exposed.

  “Hey,” Levi says. “These assholes”—Levi’s hand casually sweeps the room, landing on Iathan’s spy, Froome—“shot me. In the neck, with a tracker, like I was some kind of animal. But here I am. So bygones, dude, okay?”

  I scratch an invisible itch behind my ear and moan internally. That is a truly dickhead apology. Actually, it’s not an apology at all, but I know Ezra isn’t going to get anything else right now.

  “Your race is extremely confounding and awkward,” Iathan says with amusement.

  I glare at him, and the Roones’ leader blessedly shuts up. So, for a beat, no one says anything, until finally Iathan sighs heavily. “Perhaps, over time, I will be able to get a better understanding of your people, but since time is against us, I propose we move forward. I felt it would be best if Ezra were to debrief you on the intel that he managed to collate with ours and Edo’s computer files. Ezra? You have the floor.”

  “What?” Ezra has been staring at me, and it’s a feeling I like a great deal. So when he shakes his head as if to snap out of a trance, I know exactly where he’s coming from. “Right—okay.”

  Ezra walks over to a large black table, which is apparently some sort of central console. Levi and I both join him there, standing next to each other but across from him. Ezra immediately starts tapping away. Brief flashes of illuminated light appear beneath his fingers as they quickly buzz around the surface. Ezra’s only been here three days, but given that he’s a computer genius, I’m hardly surprised he’s got it figured out. He’s so damned brilliant. I know he has important things to say, but I just want to jump on him and kiss his face. I move my neck side to side as if cracking my spine is action enough. It isn’t. Instead I just stare and fiddle with the zipper on my uniform.

  “I’m assuming Iathan filled you in on the basics,” he begins in a quiet voice. “The gaps that I’ve been able to cover concern the other Citadel races. There are five of them besides the Karekins and you. The Roones here wondered if there might be more, but Edo’s computer had daily briefings from each of the other Earths with Citadels, so it’s just the five.” Ezra clears his throat and runs his hand stiffly through his hair. “I suppose if you’re a glass-half-full kind of person you could be grateful the number is so low. I gotta say, though, that it’s hard to be optimistic when you see what they are, and what they can do.”

  Levi and I exchange worried looks. Ezra catches this and glares at me while typing harder on the console with his finger pads.

  Well, that’s me fucked.

  If Ezra has a problem with a simple glance at my fellow Citadel and current partner, he’s going to be pissed as hell when I tell him the rest of it. I try to ignore the ever-expanding pit of doom in my stomach. This information is too important to dilute with my personal life.

  Ezra clears his throat to make sure he has all our attention. “Let’s begin with the Spiradaels.” A number of pictures pop up on the air, like floating TV screens, without the actual screen part. “These are the Spiradael Citadels. They were the first race to be converted after the other Roones were exiled. As you can see, they are tall, like the Karekins, which is one of the main reasons they were chosen. The altered Roones believed that if they could amp up their strength, they would be well matched to fight the remaining Karekins here. And while they didn’t quite get to that level, don’t let their scrawny appearance fool you. They are spindly but strong, and their hair, which, as you can see from this video here”—another image pops up of a Spiradael in a brawl with what looks like another humanoid race—“falls down to their ankles. They bind it
in a thin alloy so that it becomes almost like a razor, and then they use it like a whip.” The Spiradael Citadel in the video grabs hold of his mane and flicks it hard. It wraps around his opponent’s neck and then, with a hard tug, the other guy’s head is sliced clean away.

  The video is graphic, but I am not frightened by it. I’ve faced worse. Hell—I’ve done worse. What has got my attention, though, is that I’ve had to sit through hundreds of informational meetings like this, but I’ve never seen anything like Ezra’s briefing swag. It’s like he’s been doing this for years. He’s calm, concise . . . and sexy as anything. I keep leaning my body forward toward him inch by inch.

  Pretty soon I’m going to end up on the actual table.

  “The advantage you have with Spiradaels is that their intelligence has not been genetically modified, and your uniforms should keep you safe enough. Just make sure you don’t underestimate these skinny bastards. They aren’t dumb, and they are strong and very fast.”

  Ezra takes his hand and seemingly collects the pictures in a single fist before throwing them up behind him, leaving room for the next race. “After the Spiradaels, the Roones made a gamble on brute force. The Spiradaels never quite achieved the level of the Karekins’ sheer physicality, so the Roones then chose the Orsalines. As you can see, they kind of look like a cross between a grizzly and an Ewok.”

  I can’t help it. I roll my eyes in disgust. “Great. Like I needed another reason to hate bears. They’re useless and lethal. They’re like the appendixes of the animal kingdom.” The entire room looks at me. No one says anything, though I can tell my interruption was not appreciated by the varying looks of mild to downright irritation on everyone’s faces.

  Okay . . . so no with the witty banter, then.

  Ezra continues as if I didn’t say anything, and I worry he’s annoyed with me, too. “They are also the most primitive of all the Citadels. In fact, according to Edo’s notes, the altered Roones appeared to them as gods. The Rifts are hell mouths, like in Buffy, which is a special shout-out to you, Ryn,” Ezra says with just the barest hint of a smile on his face, and then I know I was worried for nothing. Ezra gets my quirks.