The Rift Uprising, page 12
“Not that crazy. It’s Game of Thrones,” Ezra jokes. “Come on.”
“I can’t. I really have to go.” I back away and head to the door.
“I don’t know what you had to do to get in here. But . . . can you do it again? Things seem so much more . . . I don’t know—manageable seems like the least romantic word ever, but it fits somehow. And the word better just doesn’t cut it.” Ezra puts his hands back in his pockets. He looks so vulnerable. If I was smart I would stay away. The thing is, I am smart and so is he, though he doesn’t understand the full implications of what spending time together could mean.
So of course I say, “I will. I will come again.”
Clearly, when it comes to Ezra Massad, I am a dumbass.
CHAPTER 9
Beta Team takes point position at the rock again, right beside The Rift. It has been four days since my trip to the Village. Each morning I’ve woken up and hoped that I would get some sort of perspective, but my days have been full of Ezra. Not him, actually, but the thought of him. I wonder what he’s doing, how he is doing, and if he is getting any closer to accepting where he is. At night I’ve climbed into my bed, closed my eyes, and imagined scenarios where we might be together. I get as far as a posting in the Village, maybe even a rotation or two nearby where he ends up working. That is the closest we will ever get to a life together. I’ve allowed myself brief, fleeting flashes of him taking my face in his hands and kissing me deeply. I cannot allow myself to fall completely into this fantasy. I’ve felt the violence sweep through my fists as I picture our mouths colliding, and don’t want to destroy my room—and possibly my family—by going any further. If I am to see him again, safely, I can’t even daydream about something physical happening between us, or it will be the first thing I think of when I see him in person, and even though physical touch is required to set off the Blood Lust, I would not want to risk it. What if I’m close enough to feel the touch of his breath? Would that count? We’ve always been so overly cautious when it comes to the Blood Lust (Levi excluded, of course) that in truth, we don’t even know where the limits actually are. So we all keep our hands to ourselves and our thoughts as PG-13 as possible because it’s just easier that way, safer. Which I’m sure, no doubt, is exactly how ARC wants it.
This is why I feel I can innocently imagine us in The Menagerie, walking hand in hand through the grasses of the pasture where they keep Merle. His hand in mine does not feel sexual in this little mind trip. The unicorn’s presence cancels out lust. Ezra’s hand will fit perfectly into my own and both of us will stare into the inky black of Merle’s eyes. We will see ourselves reflected there as we could be: two kids, normal, stripped of the craziness that is our lives.
I miss him. It’s illogical. I keep trying to dismiss him. I can’t. He is a bruise I keep pushing, a scab I keep picking. My inability to see Ezra, let alone touch him, is painful, but I know later on down the road it will be agony. Eventually he will find a girl, someone else in the Village, to share his life with. I will have to watch them with a rifle in my hand as they walk down the street, go out to eat, head home together from work. I will become invisible to him, just another guard keeping him trapped in a world that isn’t his. I do think about all those questions he asked, as I promised. I haven’t come up with any other answer than ARC has probably lied about a number of things. But like I told Ezra, it doesn’t matter. I’ve gone too far down this road already. I don’t want to end up like Levi, angry at everyone every minute of the day.
I have been trying not to let any of this affect my job, but of course it has. Violet seems to know that something is up. She has been unusually touchy-feely with me today. Her hugs last longer, she’s rested her head on my shoulder twice, she even insisted on braiding my hair this morning, and now it’s pulled back so neat and tight I’m getting a headache. Boone hasn’t cracked a joke, and Henry, well, Henry is the same. I want to tell them what I’ve done, but I can’t put them at risk.
I was so afraid the first day I came into work after I went to see him that somehow I had been found out, but I hadn’t. Things went forward as usual and no one said a thing. It seems I have done it, broken into the Village. I couldn’t have done it without Levi’s help. He reminded me of this when we drove away from Ezra’s apartment. He also explained that we are now even. The debt has been paid. It was the only thing he said as we made our way back to The Menagerie and I was beyond grateful for the silence.
The thing is, I’m pretty sure I can do it again without his assistance. I now have the ever-chipper Audrey to get me into the Village. Before I left, I asked when she would next be on Menagerie duty. She told me that she wasn’t on until the following Sunday night, but that she would be working graveyard, twelve to four A.M., and would happily let me in. I don’t relish the idea of sneaking out of my house, nor do I love the fact that I would be showing up at Ezra’s apartment in the dead of night, but what could I do? He knows I basically have to break into the Village to see him. I can only hope that he understands I am working with what I’ve got, and not assume it’s some kind of booty call.
I hear the various teams checking in. It’s been two hours and The Rift has been blessedly silent. But then, of course, right after I think that, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I look at my team and let them know silently that The Rift is about to open. I close my eyes and focus. I concentrate on the air around me. There is a strange pull and a sort of thrumming. Ezra was right about that; it’s possible that his body is simply sensitive to the subatomic changes in the atmosphere, as mine is. There is no way that it chose him or singled him out, though. I have to get that idea out of his head.
I look through the rock and see The Rift begin to shimmer.
“Command Center, this is Beta Team. We have a visual confirmation. Stage one.”
“Copy that, Beta Team.”
“Finally. Christ,” Boone says, rolling his eyes. “My ass has fallen asleep and you guys are about as much fun today as a teeth cleaning.” Boone lifts himself up and puts a hand on Vi’s leg to maneuver over her so that he can see through one of the rock portals. His hand lingers for just a couple seconds, but it’s enough. Violet reaches out quickly and grabs his wrist. Her breath begins to quicken. It’s the Blood Lust. Immediately, I turn off my mic.
“Henry, take my spot.”
Henry obeys the order and begins reporting back to Command on The Rift’s progress. Boone isn’t moving. He understands that if he tries to jerk his hand away it will only make things worse. I can see Violet fighting it. Her lip is trembling, she is scrunching her eyes shut.
“Vi, sweetie, let go,” I say softly. She opens her eyes and looks at me, pleading. “It’s okay, it’s fine, babe. We’re at work. The Rift is about to open, so we have to do our jobs, all right?” I can tell she is gritting her teeth. She is not in control, so I have to take control for her. “Vi, just listen to the sound of my voice. You don’t feel anything. Everything is calm.” I see Boone wince—Violet has clamped down harder. From behind me, Henry is telling Command that The Rift is at Stage 3. There is no time. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I get an idea.
“Violet!” That gets her attention and she looks me straight in the eye. “Martha Graham’s Night Dance!” Everyone turns and looks at me funny, including, I think, Violet. “Dachshund puppy dogs, turkey Bolognese, The Gilmore Girls, Cherry Garcia ice cream!” Her head jerks back and she lets Boone’s wrist go. Boone stays crouched and massages the place where Vi had him. I see a purple bruise forming in the shape of her slender fingers. I can only hope it’s not broken.
“What did you do?” he asks in disbelief.
“I just thought of all the things that make Violet happy. I was trying to distract her. I guess I just sort of blurted out all the things that give her pleasure but not, you know, sexual pleasure.” I smile wide and Violet smiles back.
“I don’t know, I’ve lusted pretty hard-core over a pint of Ben and Jerry’s,” she says, “but thanks. I’m so sorry, Boone.” I’m sure Violet would have loved to reach out and at least pat him on the shoulder, but she won’t dare now.
“It’s all good. I’m fine. No real harm done.” Boone is lying. The physical pain is nothing compared to how he hurts when the reality of the two of them becomes so dangerous. I don’t know how I know that—I’ve never had the Blood Lust hit me full force—but when I think about Ezra, and how close I’ve wanted to get . . . I just do.
He moves his wrist back and forth so I can see it’s not broken.
“You guys want to sit here and talk about puppies, or do you want to work?” Henry says grimly.
“I was working,” I say as Boone says, “Puppies.” Good—if he’s joking, at least he’s trying. “Stand down, Henry.” I turn my mic back on and see The Rift is open fully. “Stage four. Expect incoming, Command.”
“Roger that, Ryn.” It’s Applebaum. He wasn’t helming Command before. The fact that he’s taking lead now has me paranoid. Does he know about the Village? Or is it just because he didn’t like what happened the last time I was in charge out here? I shake off my annoyance. It is time to go to work, and nothing else matters now except for what is about to happen in the next few minutes.
The Rift spits out about twenty Sissnovars from its jet-black hole. I hear Applebaum start the countdown for The Five. I watch the Sissnovars through the rock. They are bewildered, they stare . . . then they begin to yell at one another in their own language. Even though the time I spent with Zaka was brief, I am seeing his species in a whole new light. There are about a dozen males, five females, and the rest are much younger, children. My heart sinks when I see them. Their speech is not unpleasant. It isn’t guttural but, as you might expect, sibilant. Their voices are raised in panic, but their language is actually quite soothing. The children hide behind their mothers. A few of the Sissnovars are crying, a few are racing around looking at trees, touching them, even licking a couple.
They might look fearsome, but I know that they are just terrified. The Five are almost up. I radio back to base. “We are going to make first contact. Do not order the Citadels down from the Nests or bring any forward until I give the okay. Copy.”
“How about you let me give those kind of orders, Ryn?” Applebaum says with superiority.
“Not today, Applebaum,” I answer vaguely and with obvious annoyance in my voice. He and everyone else is wondering if I mean that I’m not going to take his crap today or if I am actually taking complete command of the mission.
I press the mute button on my mic. “Leave your weapons here, on safety,” I order my team.
“Are you insane?” Henry says, clearly baffled.
“No, I’m your team leader. Do it.” They all look at one another then back at me. Violet puts down her gun first, followed by Boone and then Henry, reluctantly. “Now, follow my lead.”
Usually in situations like this we go in with our guns. We show immediate authority because we believe it’s actually safer for our opponents to see they are obviously outmatched. I have decided on a new tactic.
I think it’s starting to become a habit for me.
I stand; my team follows. I slowly walk toward the clearing, toward the Sissnovars with my arms wide. For a minute they stop and look at me. I take my right fist and bring it up so that it crosses my heart, the gesture I saw Zaka make as I was leaving The Menagerie. I bend at the waist and bow twice.
“What in the good goddamned hell are you doing, Ryn?” Applebaum yells in our ears. “Where are your weapons? Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon Teams—prepare to jump from the Nests on one . . .”
I unmute my mic. “Nobody move,” I whisper sternly. “I mean it. Let me try this, or somebody is going to get hurt.” I look at my team and raise my eyebrows so they know to copy my body language. All in a row we repeat the same movement. A female Sissnovar bravely comes forward. A male is yelling, but she silences him with a choice word and a look. She returns my greeting and begins to speak slowly. I quickly hold my hand over my lips and shake my head, hoping that she will understand that I don’t speak her language. I point to The Rift, and make a kind of scary face and vigorously whip my head back and forth in an obvious “no/bad” charade. The female nods her head in understanding.
I hope.
I move even closer to her. Gently I raise my hand. She winces slightly and is near shaking with fear. “It’s okay,” I whisper. I give her my warmest smile as my hand lands on her shoulder. She takes it and examines it closely. I am far more alien to her than she is to me at this point, with my pink, smooth skin, blue veins, and smattering of freckles. She smells my skin and then gently rubs the back of my hand on her cool, scaly cheek. I wonder if she can smell aggression or fear, of which I have neither. It also occurs to me that I should know that. That kind of information should be included in our briefing seminars about the different species we have encountered and housed in our Villages.
I point my finger away from The Rift and then gesture for them all to follow. They talk for a minute among themselves, but there is decidedly less tension. The woman nods her head and surprisingly wraps her arm around my own and allows me to escort them all away with us in the lead. We don’t say anything—we can’t. There is only the sound of twigs and pine needles crunching beneath our feet and birds chirping from the trees. She leans on me, still shaking, but I am in awe of her bravery. I am also ashamed. Sissnovars are gentle, as Zaka had said. They are also now prisoners here, forever, and about to be humanized. I am taking them on the first steps of that journey. There is no denying my part in this.
My only consolation is that no one got hurt. It might be enough.
The vehicles are waiting for us in the safe zone. The Sissnovars look at the jeeps and vans in an odd kind of way. They don’t seem surprised by a motorized coach, but they do seem intrigued by the design. I have no idea what they are used to, because I know nothing about them. I see Kendrick again, and another of his colleagues, Greta, whom I don’t really like at all. She has about as much empathy as a diving board. I give Kendrick a pleading look, hoping he will take charge. Immediately, he jumps forward and puts his hand on his chest and says, “Kendrick.” And again, “Kendrick.” Then he points to the female who has taken her arm and unwrapped it from mine. “Liseth,” she says with a smile. Kendrick repeats her name and nods. His smile is broad, genuine, and unthreatening. He points to the open door of one of the vans. Liseth looks at me, uncertainty clouding her face. I nod and point once again back at The Rift, shaking my head. She stops for a moment and looks at her people. She wears her apprehension and worry softly, like a veil, but it is there. I see it. She looks once more behind us, toward the green mouth that had swallowed her people, and narrows her small yellow eyes. Finally she nods her head in resignation.
Liseth walks into the van and tells her people to follow. They clamber up into the separate vehicles. Kendrick looks at me, holding his electronic pad close to his chest.
“That was nicely done, Ryn,” he says with approval. “Good job.”
Before he can turn to go, I ask, “When they get to base, will there be another Sissnovar there? Someone who can speak their language at least, to reassure them?”
Kendrick’s neck jerks back slightly. He tilts his head. “I’m surprised to hear you ask. Usually you guys just sort of dump them with us and go back on duty.”
“Yeah . . .” I begin, aware that I don’t want to come across as sarcastic or even overly curious. Who knows how anything I do will be interpreted? But I also don’t know what else to say. “Well, today I’m asking.” I realize that I am doing the very thing Ezra asked me to do and not just to myself, but to someone else at ARC. He got to me. I was the one who was supposed to be doing the getting to. I realize with a sinking heart that things have changed.
Shit.
That seems to satisfy him, though. “They will watch a recording of a very well-adjusted and confident Sissnovar, who will explain all about The Rift and what they can expect if they cooperate and what will happen if they don’t. All their testing will be done in their own language. Sissnovars tend to adjust pretty quickly. It’s usually only after they’ve just come through when there’s any sort of problem.” The motors are running and I can tell that he is in a hurry to get out of there. Greta taps on the window and then her watch. I wonder how someone’s face alone can be annoying, but hers is.
“Okay, thanks, I was just wondering. That’s all.”
Kendrick is smiling, but his smile is signaling something else: caution. “That’s good, yeah.”
I step back and he gets in one of the vehicles and they all slowly caravan out.
“Seriously, Ryn?” Boone asks. “Did you just watch that little arm move on an episode of Star Trek and hope for the best?” He isn’t mad. None of my teammates are, but they are wondering. I kick the ground a little bit with my boot.
“Actually, it was Doctor Who,” I say innocently with a toothy grin. Before Boone can respond, a jeep comes barreling down the unpaved road.
“Applebaum,” Henry says with no emotion. I wish I had Henry’s detachment. I feel like I’m about to need it.
“Ryn!” the colonel screams at me, and hops out of the car before it comes to a complete stop. I watch as he comes toward us and I swallow hard when I see Christopher Seelye slowly climb out of the passenger seat. My team and I look at each other. It’s one thing to piss off Applebaum, but the president of ARC? The most powerful entity in the world? It’s not looking good for me.
Damned if I’m going to let that show, though.
“Yes,” I respond coolly, though my pulse begins to race as Seelye casually makes his way toward us.
“No weapons? No backup? And of all the days, Ryn! When Mr. Seelye is here. Jesus.” Applebaum starts to pace in front of me. He’s holding his arms so rigidly behind him that they look shackled. “What were you thinking? It’s not just that you put your entire team at risk, but those poor snake bastards, too. Had they attacked, well, I don’t need to tell you what would have happened.” His hair, military short and streaked with silver, is unmoving in the light breeze and his steel-gray eyes are sharply condescending. Seelye is saying nothing. He’s just watching and staring. It unnerves me more than I’d like to admit. “Well?” Applebaum demands.
