Rift, Page 2

  Chapter 1

  SUE

  Initiation Day. The day she had always known would come was here at last. In less than two hours, she would be standing in the town square, among the young men and women of Charlestown, many of whom she had known since childhood. Waiting, wondering if they would be chosen. Sue stared at the picture of her family on the wall. Father was gone, and soon she might be gone, too, leaving her mother and Jason alone. It would be hard on them both, but the thought of Jason, eight soon to be nine, who might never see his big sister again, was just too damn hard to think about. Her mother was strong, though, and she would be strong for Jason, just as she had been strong for all three of them when her father had turned fifty. She felt almost relieved that he wouldn’t be there to experience the heartbreaking ceremony. She’d seen it on the live screens year after year—a mother breaking down after seeing her child chosen for one of the deadlier services; a father’s futile fight to protect his children; sons and daughters being dragged off to serve; siblings seeing their big sister or brother for the last time. It would have broken her father’s heart if he were here to see her go. Now, it will be up to her mother to carry on.

  Service to the State. A concept pounded into them all ever since they were old enough to understand. The Moon people had taught them that, above all, Service to the State was the greatest virtue. Indeed, it was the single most important duty, which ensured unity, security, and prosperity.

  Sue looked away from the family picture and into the mirror. Sometimes, she thought she looked hard—cold and emotionless. It wasn’t something she wanted, but life for an English girl in the Covenant would do that to you. Still, she had made herself look her best for today. Her dark hair, almost black, was neatly braided, and she had put on her finest gown, the grey one she only wore at weddings and funerals. Her hazel eyes looked back at her, steady, no more fear. A half-smile crept forth. She was ready. She exhaled slowly, having long ago accepted her fate. If she died in the Service, she would honor her town and her family. And if she survived, she would have a real chance at being chosen for citizenship. And she would change the lives of her mother and little brother.

  It didn’t mean so much to her personally. After all, she knew very few citizens, and they were no different from the others. Except that they didn’t live here, most of them. Most citizens were rich and chose to live off somewhere else, although a few returned to their old hometown. She had heard stories of how some just partied and gorged themselves on food and drink and whatnot, but she knew there were others who used their wealth to help those less fortunate. She hoped to one day be that kind of citizen. She knew what even just one citizen who chose to help could accomplish.

  She knew that citizenship was something to be sought after, and a great honor, not just for the one receiving it, but also for the entire community. She recalled what she had learned of citizenship in school. In the beginning, only the Moon people and their descendants were eligible, but within decades, a few of the English were given the opportunity to earn their citizenship through Service. Custom soon became law, and these days, every young man and woman is added to the list the year they turn eighteen. One in twenty is chosen, sometimes fewer. The rest are left to live out their lives in their hometowns, usually a life of poverty. Not being chosen also means a short life, since only citizens are allowed to live past fifty. The euthanasia laws set the life limit to fifty for non-citizens, meaning the English, and forty or thirty-five for the disabled, depending on their disability. But citizens are allowed to live for as long as they choose. And with Moon-people technology, that could be a very long time.

  She had no way of knowing which Service she would be picked for, but she was fit, healthy, and had done well in school, so she was pretty sure one of the better Services would select her. A couple of weeks ago, she had even registered her preferences with the Service Bureau. She only did it to make sure they noticed her; she didn’t expect the preferences to count for much else. You could often tell, though, to a certain degree, where they would put someone. If you were really smart or had some special talent, you might end up a Student. The strong, agile kind, or the fighters, usually ended up as Janissaries. Sometimes the Wardens would pick one of those, as well, although it was difficult to know what the Wardens were really looking for. The Corpus were the last to pick, and as a result, always got those not chosen for any of the other Services. In the Corpus, the whip ruled, backs were bent, and the will broken. It was the one Service Sue truly dreaded and didn’t think she would stand a chance of surviving. Better to be a Janissary. Few made it all the way through Janissary Service, but those who did, always became citizens. Also, it was the only Service that required only three years, instead of the usual seven.

  She looked at her watch. Time to go. She had already said her goodbyes, and as was customary, the family never walked with a candidate to the selection ceremony. She might see them there, but if she was chosen, there would be no farewells, no hugs or kisses. That would be seen as disloyal. After all, Service was an honor.

  Sue made sure to switch off the light as she left the room. She had a final look around before exiting through the front door. From behind her, she could hear the sobs of little Jason, and her mother comforting him, the soothing words incomprehensible. She knew she would see them again, even if she was chosen. That was what she would live for. That was what she would do whatever it took for.