Rift

by Andreas Christensen

  Chapter 9

  SUE

  The Quick Reaction Force ran first toward the outpost closest to where the artillery had been located. The tacticus in charge there seemed relieved to meet Sue and her team, and as the four-man team blasted away into the forest beyond the perimeter, Rory received directions to a path that would take the QRF around and to the west of the enemy position. They wasted no more time, and snuck out to the left, leaving the outpost to continue firing at the unknown enemy.

  “Won’t they ever run out of ammo?” Sue asked. Oystein, one of the Moon people from her team, grinned while clutching his own weapon.

  “Sure they will. In about two days, if they keep firing like that.” He laughed at her surprise. “They have a stash beneath the outpost, loaded with ammo, spare weapons, food, you name it. Trust me, Susan, nobody gets past that, even if there are only five of them.”

  “So even if they’re not replenished, they can hold out, firing like crazy, for two days?” she asked. Oystein nodded.

  “That’s right. And there are outposts like that all along the perimeter. The Westfold Brigade will stand its ground, don’t worry.”

  They moved in silence once they passed the minefields north of the outposts. It wasn’t far, but they moved carefully, since they were now officially inside enemy territory. Reaching the artillery position took them almost half an hour, and by the time the arrived, the enemy force had moved on.

  “Shit,” someone in the back mumbled. Rory and Christine were studying the ground on the far side of the position, and after a moment, they gathered everyone.

  “They moved out of here just minutes ago. We can follow them or we can wait for them to get away. Either way, the attack on camp is over, so our main task is completed,” Rory said.

  “Fuck that,” Oystein spat. “They’ll just come back. I say let’s get them while they’re close. We won’t have an opportunity like this for a while.”

  “There might be more of them,” Raymond said.

  “We’re better than they are, and we have better equipment. I say we crush them now,” Alexandra said. If Sue didn’t know better, she’d believed she was Moon blood, as well, the way she spoke. She had a bad feeling about this, but being the fresh face around, she kept quiet.

  “All right, we do it,” Rory said, determination apparent on his face. “Attack formation, half speed, fire at will.” They would overtake the enemy shortly, even at half speed, since the QRF was lightly equipped, whereas the enemy would be carrying a heavy load. They had found no tracks, which meant they were carrying the artillery. Everyone spread out, and soon they were moving through the woods.

  “Stay sharp. I want the first shot fired to be ours,” Rory’s voice whispered inside her helmet. He didn’t have to ask Sue twice. She knew she was walking into combat, and though she hadn’t really had time to be afraid the last time out, she did now. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins, and her hands were shaking. She saw enemies in every shadow, and if it hadn’t been for the lessons taught by Tac Hordvik, she’d already been firing away, blasting those trees and bushes into oblivion. Scaring away whoever lay out there, she hoped. She wished the suit would inject something to help her calm her nerves, but it had a mind of its own. She had to stay sharp, and though the suit had all kinds of aids available, its main concern was her fighting ability. She had to remain alert, even if it meant clattering teeth, shaking hands, and vision that tricked her into seeing things that weren’t there.

  It was Christine who fired the first shot, but not at the enemy. The Janissary suits would alert them to explosives hidden in booby traps, but the one Christine stepped into was nothing but a hole, one square meter, hidden by foliage and thin branches. Her scream as she landed on the sharpened stakes pierced Sue’s ears even as the suit muffled the sound inside her helmet. Christine’s shots went all over, and it was a miracle nobody was hit.

  “Trap!” Rory shouted. “On me, baseline front.”

  Everyone rushed into position, but it was too late. Oystein and Alexandra both fell from the first rounds as enemy fire rained upon them. Sue still had no visual on the enemy. Nothing to fire at. She kept her rifle ready.

  “Get back here!” she heard Raymond scream. Somebody was running. To help someone, to chase an enemy, to get away from it all? No way to tell.

  A kick in her chest followed by another, and then a stabbing pain piercing her shoulder. Two shots, deflected by her suit, and one penetrating her armor. She felt the local anesthetic as the nano bots went into action, stitching her up, minimizing blood loss. She realized she was on the ground, surprised at not having noticed her fall. Something moved by in her peripheral vision. Friend or foe? Probably friend, since the suit hadn’t done anything. She knew it had a dozen ways to kill anyone who got too close to her while she lay wounded.

  Then all sounds inside her helmet went dead, and a red triangle appeared in front of her eyes. Malfunction, low battery. How can that be? I charged it just yesterday—it should last for weeks! she thought. Then she rolled over and saw the leak, the tiny darts that had pierced the battery compartment just below her neck. And she saw two others being dragged along, held at gunpoint, all suit defenses incapacitated.

  This was not some random attack, from which the enemy had fled now that the Janissaries were counterattacking. They had been lured out here, so the enemy could capture at least some of them alive. Sue suddenly realized that the northern savages, the primitive people who were a major nuisance but never considered a real threat, had just outmaneuvered the Janissaries, captured a closely guarded technology, and were now holding Sue and probably more of her teammates captive.

  DAVE

  The airship ride was dizzying and confusing. It wasn’t so much the ride per se. Dave had never been up in the air before, but the ship was big and the seats comfortable. It was the drugs running through his veins that were beginning to affect his vision and his sense of balance.

  “I thought it was just a vaccine,” he said to Scott, who sat right next to him. Scott looked like he was about to throw up and didn’t reply. Kirilov though, grinned at him.

  “It is,” he said. He didn’t look like he was affected at all, unlike Greer, who looked just as bad as Scott. As bad as Dave felt. He looked over at Baldwin, who sat with his eyes closed. That seemed to work better, so he closed his eyes, as well, until they popped open two seconds later. Didn’t work at all, at least not for him.

  “We are going to intercept a group of infected. If they get past the zone, they will spread all kinds of disease. The vaccine will protect you, though. As will these.” Kirilov nodded toward the weapons crate secured between them.

  “How do we know they are infected? What kind of infection is it, anyway?” Dave asked. Kirilov looked amused by the question.

  “You’ll know. It will take you but seconds, trust me.”

  Scott suddenly grabbed at his emergency airsickness bag and managed to throw up in it, instead of all over himself.

  “Yuk!” Greer said, but Dave could see he was struggling not to do the exact same thing. Scott heaved, still holding the bag in front of his face.

  “This is so bad,” he said, voice muffled. Dave exhaled, trying to think of something else. But thinking was growing increasingly difficult. His mind was all jumbled, and he couldn’t focus on a single thought no matter how hard he tried. He even missed the descent, so when the airship’s anchor hit the ground, making the ship rock a little, he was unprepared. The senior Wardens, all Moon blood, laughed at the rookies. Greer couldn’t hold it anymore and threw up in his bag, and even Baldwin, who had managed to hold it together for so long, stumbled as he tried to get to his feet.

  “Everyone, be very careful. We disembark in thirty seconds,” Kirilov shouted, so that everyone stopped and paid attention. He produced night vision goggles, one pair each, and handed them out.

  “Put the goggles on and press the switch on the right. They will adjust to your vision.” Dave put his on, fas
tened them to the helmet, and pushed the switch. It felt a bit different from training, but he’d get the hang of it soon enough. As long as you paid attention to where you put your feet, the goggles had a wide visual area, enough that he didn’t have to move his head all the time. It felt natural. Then he inserted a small bud into his ear and heard Kirilov’s voice clearly. He focused on Kirilov.

  “Never, I repeat, never take the goggles off. They are part of your protection. And don’t forget, the infected are lethally dangerous and should be treated as such. Don’t let any of them get too close. And look after each other.” He produced a small canister and took out four red pills.

  “Take these. Your sickness is part of your reaction to the vaccine. These will help.” Dave took his pill and swallowed it immediately. Kirilov smiled.

  “Right, let’s move out,” he said and stepped into the cage, taking Baldwin and Scott with him. The fourth man inside was one of the Moon blood seniors. Dave didn’t know his name.

  The first team descended quickly, and then it was Dave’s turn. Kirilov had returned with the cage and commanded them all on board. Dave went first. Greer came after, still struggling with the straps of his goggles and trying not to stumble as he entered the cage. Another nameless Moon blood senior was last on board.

  The cage descended so quickly, Dave thought they were going to crash. But in the last instant, the speed decreased, and they landed smoothly on the ground.

  “Out, quickly,” Kirilov commanded. His voice, barely a whisper, was still loud enough to hear clearly, because of the ear bud. Dave lifted his rifle, searching through the optical scope for movement. He saw that Scott held something that resembled a machine gun, and one of the seniors was assisting him. Kirilov held some sort of mini assault rifle, and the rest had ordinary rifles like Dave. He looked up and saw the airship was gone. Only then did he notice how silent it must have been.

  “Light and sound discipline in effect,” Kirilov said quietly. “They are less than one k away, to the northwest. We move to that tree line and set up an ambush.” Dave concentrated on the words and found he had no problem understanding and processing them. He could think again. And his vision and balance were beginning to feel better, as well. In his peripheral vision he noticed little flickers, but he figured it had to be the lighting optimizer working to make use of every light source available.

  Then he felt—more than he heard—movement behind him, buzzing by.

  “What…” he whispered, before Kirilov turned toward him, a hard look in his eyes.

  “That’s the observation drone, you idiot. Now quiet,” he said. Dave flushed. Of course. The drone would be filming them, recording everything. This was not just a rite of passage; it was also a test. If someone didn’t pass, they might end up in the Corpus. Or so he’d heard.

  They moved swiftly, but quietly, and within a few minutes, they had reached the spot where they would set up the ambush. They were hidden a few meters inside the thick woods, with a clearing in front of them and an area of scattered brush on the far side, about two hundred meters away.

  “Scott, in the middle here. Greer, left flank. Baldwin, right flank. Wagner, between Scott and Greer.” Kirilov directed them into position. Dave felt light headed, a mix of fear and euphoria. He almost didn’t notice that the seniors took up positions behind them. Probably so that they could support them whenever needed. He shook off a bout of dizziness and focused on the task at hand. He looked through his scope.

  They waited for a few more minutes. The only sound was their breathing and some directions from Kirilov in their ears. Watch your ammo count. Be ready. Look after your teammates.

  The brush on the far side of the clearing moved.

  “Hold it. Let them come all the way out,” Kirilov whispered. Dave felt his palms slick with sweat. He adjusted his grip, never taking his hands from the weapon, though. He closed his left eye and peered through the scope.

  The monster that entered the clearing was the most fearsome sight he had ever seen.