The Rift Frequency. Amy Foster S.

bad man, but I’m going to have to hurt him in order to leave this room. I don’t feel guilty about it. I look at the clock again. Timing is everything and he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time.

      “I am Captain Kotoku Sato,” he says in Japanese. “What is your name?” He’s efficient and to the point, but he’s not angry. He sounds mostly curious and maybe a little irritated.

      “Ryn Whittaker,” I answer honestly.

      “Why are you here, Ryn-san? You don’t look like a stupid girl. You must know this area is off limits to civilians.”

      I shrug my shoulders. It’s not like I can tell him the truth. “Why are you here? Japan wasn’t big enough for you?”

      Now it’s his turn to sigh. “The war has been over for almost a century. And just by looking at you, I can tell that you are not indigenous to this country, and so I could ask you the same thing.” I furrow my brow for a split second. He kind of has me there. “I just don’t understand you people,” he continues. “Is democracy so wonderful? In the years leading up to our liberation of this country, America suffered a great depression. People starved in the streets. There were no jobs. Entire families were homeless. And now every person in this country has a job. No one goes hungry. We all work for the benefit of our community. The individual is not more important than the greater good. We have proven this. We have eliminated suffering. Is that not better than your democracy, which leaves so many behind?”

      I narrow my eyes at him. He makes a good point, but I’ve sacrificed enough in my own life for the greater good. And while I’m really not here to argue comparative politics with a man I’m about to kick the shit out of, I can’t help myself.

      I’m impulsive like that.

      “Except the Jews, right?” I ask in English. “Probably aren’t too many of them in your fantastic community.”

      Sato slams his fist on the table. “We don’t speak that language here,” he says with a slow intensity that is bound to build. “Your punishment will be even greater if you continue.” So now I say nothing. I can hear his heart rate increase. I’m not afraid of him or his threats, even though I can tell he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. “Tell me, Ryn-san, are you a militia now? Is that why you and this other boy are wearing uniforms? It’s one thing to protest in front of government buildings, but to dress up like a pretend soldier and walk into a military base would imply that your group of anarchists is attempting something very foolish. I would like the names of your collaborators. I ask this only to keep you from further harm.”

      I fold my arms and cock my head. My defiance makes his heart race even faster, but there’s no point in pissing him off too much. I switch back to Japanese.

      “I can tell you in all honesty that I am not collaborating with anyone. Branach Levi-san and I came here alone. We are not part of any anarchist movement.”

      Captain Sato grits his teeth. He doesn’t believe me. “Then I ask again, why are you here? Did you think we would just tell you to go away? Did you think there would not be consequences for your actions? We could lock you up for as long as we wish. Along with the dishonor you have already brought to your family by your actions, would you have them fret and worry about your whereabouts? Tell me who else you are working with and I will make sure your parents know you are safe.”

      I roll my eyes just a fraction and give a little laugh. “Oh come on … No one has ever tried to break in here before? I can’t believe I’m the first rebellious teenager to try.” I emphasize the word teenager. It’s imperative that Sato believes that’s all I am.

      “No civilian has ever been stupid enough to try such a thing, young and ‘rebellious’ or not. Kayanpu Joryoku is for military personnel only.”

      I take a moment to process this information. I stare at the captain, whose heart rate has slowed, but who is nonetheless still agitated. “Just to be clear, then,” I begin slowly, “no civilian has been on this base or is on this base presently?”

      The man stands and leans over the table. “Of course not. But do not think that you are special. This is not some sort of achievement. You won’t be bragging to your anarchist friends about what you’ve done by the time we have finished with you here.”

      He’s threatening me again, and I really don’t like to be threatened. I like it even less that his idea of a perfect society includes the notion that it’s okay to torture a seventeen-year-old girl. I could kill him right now if I wanted. I could reach over and break his neck before anyone could get in to help him. I’ve killed like this before—quick, unthinking. I don’t enjoy doing it, but I do enjoy the power of knowing I have the ability to do it.

      This is part of the darkness in me. All Citadels carry this weight, these shadows. But, unlike some of the others, I don’t deny the rage. I’m a rabid dog in a cage. I keep the cage locked with the help of my family and friends, and with discipline and purpose. I have a purpose here today—to find out if Ezra is here—and this self-important man has just helped me achieve it. I won’t have to let that dog loose.

      “Thank you for answering my questions,” I say as I stand up. “I will be leaving now. For your own safety, I am warning you not to try and stop me.”

      “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here. I am the one asking the questions!” Sato shouts as he jumps up from his chair.

      I actually laugh aloud, much to Sato’s chagrin. I look him up and down. “Are you? Really?” And with that I walk toward the door. He races to stop me, yanking my arm back and actually pulling my hair. Good Lord, these are the people on this Earth who won the Second World War? Sissy hair pullers?

      Faster than he can react, I reach down with my free hand, undo the holster at his waist, and grab his gun. I could shoot him, but that would be messy and noisy. Instead, I remove the clip and it falls to the concrete floor with a tinny clang. I check briefly to make sure there isn’t a bullet in the chamber and, finding there isn’t one, I fieldstrip the gun and release it from my hand with all the sass of a mic drop.

      I really don’t like this Earth.

      Sato’s eyes widen in surprise as he backs away. I have to be quick now, because any second, whoever is watching us through the two-way mirror will burst through the door.

      I walk toward him and he distances himself so that we are facing each other. I look over his shoulder into the mirror and because I just can’t resist, I give a slight bow. Then, I pick Sato up, lift him high above my head, and—with all my strength—throw the captain through the mirror. He crashes through and lies still. He’s probably not dead, but I really don’t have time to wonder. The soldiers behind the broken glass scramble and push an alarm.

      The siren’s wail is not loud enough to cover up the gunshot I hear.

      Shit. Levi.

      Our Citadel uniforms will protect us from a bullet to the body, but not the head. If he were a member of my team from back home, I probably would have stuck around to make sure he didn’t need my help.

      But I know Levi can handle himself.

      I kick down the door to the interrogation room and start running. I have an advantage here. I know this base level by level. I know what is behind every corner. I zip past the soldiers as they begin to open fire, and though one bullet manages to land on my shoulder blade, it doesn’t penetrate my suit. That’s not to say it doesn’t sting like hell, but I heal fast, and it doesn’t slow me down in the slightest.

      I make my way to an old escape hatch and find it already open, which means Levi has gotten out. I race through the forest, the soldiers chasing after me. There’s no way any one of these men or women can catch me on foot. I don’t know exactly how fast I can run, but when I’m really pushing it like I am now, it’s hard for the human eye to track me. I slow down at the site where Levi and I had stashed our equipment.

      “What took you so long?” he asks me with a straight face. Coming from anyone else this