The Riftguard Saga, Chapter 3: The Loud and the Quiet

Jeffrey stumbled and had to put a hand on the floor to steady himself. Jo stopped, ahead of him in the corridor, and waited.

"Guess I'm still a little disoriented, sorry," Jeff said.

"The gravity here is 14% stronger than Earth's. It's another thing you'll get used to," Jo said.

"Ah," Jeff said, standing back to his feet as they walked forward. Soon, they turned and entered a new room, the Theater.

Indeed, it was reminiscent of a movie theater in its design: Tiered seating, formed with benches inlaid to the unique material that Haven seemed to be completely made from, all facing a stage-like rise in the floor, along with a big, blank surface that could be used as a video screen; that is, if it was anything like the wall in the previous room Jeff had been in.

Crys was up front, on the platform, while the members of the Riftguard filed in one by one. They varied in size and shape, color and demeanor, motion and mannerism. A living boulder here. A hardened warrior there. Something silent and intimidating in the back row.

Jeff just tried to stick with Jo, who was walking up one of the side aisles. In the middle of one row, a reptilian humanoid waved excitedly and patted an adjacent spot.

Jo smiled and entered the row, Jeff following. "Hey Sizzle," Jo said, and waved back.

"Another Earthling? I can practice English?" the scaly being replied in a gravelly hiss.

Jo was beaming, almost giggling. "I think he'd appreciate that. Sizzle, meet Jeff. Jeffrey, this is Sizzle."

"Sizzle?" Jeff only asked, as he neared the pair.

Jo sat down next to Sizzle and nodded. "Her real name is much longer, and a lot a harder to pronounce."

"Let him sit by me!" Sizzle said, and scooted over, patting the empty spot beside her again. She had a voice like a chain-smoking lounge singer. "Here, Jeff!"

The man hesitated. He looked between the two. Sizzle was as tall as he was, but her head was much larger, with a full snout. Her teeth were almost always visible. Her eyes were a deep black. Her scales were strange; uneven in size, and set in a shifty hue of mostly green but a sort of black and blue as well. Her hands and feet were large, with long fingers topped with long claws.

He sat.

Immediately, Sizzle's leg was brushing against his. "I think you are very pretty," the lizard lady said with a nod.

"Uh, thanks," Jeff mumbled, and tried to keep his eyes forward. The lights dimmed. Chatter quieted. Ahead, Crys began to speak. Jo leaned in and started talking to Jeff in a loud whisper.

"Once most everyone has arrived, Crys starts the mission briefing. You'll see graphics appear on-screen as he discusses the objective, the layout, expected resistance, any tactical notes."

Jeff listened, and watched. On the 'theater' wall-screen, a digital model appeared of the destination. Apparently, this mission took place on a planet with thick vegetation, close to the Rift. Or was that the Anchor? He still did not quite understand how this all worked.

The target was a Dictatorship base that had popped up recently, set low in a valley. Crys mentioned intel that suggested they were conducting research on new weapons technology.

As Crys continued with specific notes on estimated hostile forces, Jo continued as well. "Most missions are just get in, wreck everything, get out. The goal is to discourage any footholds near the Anchor or the Rift."

"Right," Jeff said, and leaned forward in his seat, trying not to miss anything.

"Once Crys finishes the briefing and opens for questions, he'll select a specific task force. They'll go into the jump room, where we all have a locker. Once they're ready, Crys opens the gate and they go through."

"Like a Bifrost," Jeff nodded.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jeff smiled.

Jo frowned. "Anyway, as they perform the mission, we can usually watch feeds from here. Our badges have a camera, tethered to Haven."

"You guys have bodycams?"

Jo looked to Jeff. "Something like that. We have communicators, too, to keep in contact during missions." She returned her attention to Crys. "Showing up to the briefing is mandatory, but you don't have to watch the action. Some people just go back to their room, or watch on a tablet. Some of us stay until the squad returns."

Jeff nodded again, his lips pursed to one side.

"I can make vibrations in anything I touch," Sizzle said.

Jeff jerked his head toward his snouty seatmate and furrowed his brow.

"What?"

She placed a hand on his knee and squeezed. Jeff's breath caught in his throat, as he stared downward. Then he began to feel his knee shaking. Then he became aware of his kneecap jostling, and his skin rippling, and his tendons unsure whether to loosen up or snap apart.

"Stop!" he yelled.

Crys stopped talking, and some of the Riftguard turned toward Jeff, who tried to slouch lower in his place. He hid his face in his hand. He sighed.

"Sizzle, please," Crys said from the front.

Sizzle gave a swooping, lazy salute.

Jeff looked to Jo, who was stifling a laugh. She waved her hands in front of her, then pointed stage right toward the entrance to the locker room. Three of the Riftguard were walking in, after Crys had just selected them.

"There they go. Once they make the jump, their feeds will appear on-screen."

"Okay," Jeffrey leaned forward, and pointed to the gun-toting soldier he had seen before. "I've met that one. What's his name?"

"Huey," Jo replied.

"... Huey?"

"It's a nickname. His real designation translates to 'Unit E-,' followed by a string of numbers. We called him 'Unit E' for short, which became 'U-E,' which eventually just turned into Huey."

"Uh, okay. And the little blue guy?" Jeff pointed to a smaller blue figure with an indistinct surface, who looked something like a stubby three-armed starfish with a poor sense of balance.

"That's Zyra. She changes, but gradually. Her blue spines are her one constant. This makes her unpredictable in combat, but it's hard on relationships."

Jeff frowned. "What can she do? Is she just a big porcupine?"

Jo chuckled. "It's not like everyone has a superpower. But she does some weird things with her body."

Jeff huffed. "Okay. And the robot?" The third member of the party was metallic, with spindly limbs in minimalist array, a head more like Johnny 5 than C-3PO but human-sized in proportions otherwise. His 'forearms' were interrupted with jutting parts and accessories.

Jo nodded. "That's Popper, or Pop for short. He's an automaton that specializes in audiovisual tricks. Reliable and optimistic."

Jeff sat. As the Riftguard trio gathered out-of-sight in the locker room, he slowly scanned the Theater seats around him. Jo leaned in close, again, and began pointing out their occupants.

"You've met Aphael, and Moss. I'm sure you'll get to know them all eventually, but there's Sandy," she said, indicating the hulking, boulder-like sandstone being to the side. "She's basically made of hard rock--"

"So she's The Thing," Jeff interrupted.

The girl rolled her eyes. "But she also grows a circular bone in each of her four paws that can rotate freely, like she has her own set of wheels." Jo swung her finger to a wispy being, almost hovering over their seat, that wore a strange bright-red coat over a pale-to-transparent body with lots of skinny, floating tendrils. "That's Cy. He's very smart, and sensitive to things like airflows. He moves fast, and likes to make living things stop breathing. He also can't really die, which is nice."

Jeff blinked. Jo pointed to the other side of the room. Jeff turned his head.

She was aiming her finger at a tall alien who wore a set of blue-violet armor, the joints neatly beset with curved blades. The ensemble seemed as good for a striking impression than it did for any practical means. "That's Tylon Trillyk. We're not sure how he can fly, but he fights very well with his spear."

Jeff opened his mouth, but was unable to craft his question before Jo whipped her index finger toward another Riftguard, one that looked like the charred remnants of an ancient egg, open and left to fossilize long ago.

"That's Vaxiar Hy, apex predator of his homeworld, compelling evidence for both the existence of magic and nightmares."

Jeff snorted, then leaned back as the lights began to dim. Jo withdrew her hand and whispered, "They're about to make the jump."

Sizzle slid her hand back onto Jeffrey's leg, more on his thigh now. "Time for the show," she hissed into his ear.

Jeff grit his teeth and tried to shift more comfortably.

The purplish vortex opened and closed with a rippling fissure-crack, and the three Riftguard dropped from about eight feet in the air to the ground below onto a bed of spiraling ferns over soft, dark soil.

Unit E slapped the grip of his rifle down into his hand, and swung around on one knee until he spotted the Dictatorship installation. All three gathered their breath and stayed near one another.

Huey peered through the digital scope of his weapon, frozen in place.

"He's waiting to see if enemy forces noticed the wormhole," Jo whispered to Jeff. "Sometimes they do, in which case we have to improvise right away. That can be intense. Crys is usually pretty good about placing them far enough away to maintain surprise while not making them go on a long hike to the target."

"Ah," Jeff said.

Huey finally rose to his feet, his sleek black body armor leading the march ahead. They walked downhill through dense cover. The 'trees' on this planet were actually similar to Earth's, although the trunks themselves were a bright green while the 'leaves' were more like typical sticks.

Soon they reached a bit of a rise, over a clearing that offered an unobstructed view to the structure. It was almost crude, in the way steel bars stuck out of concrete, like a bunker or a backwater prison. The back of the building was set right into the hill on the other side of the valley.

Huey raised his rifle, looking through the scope again. Popper moved to stand beside him.

"Mop ob?" asked the rifleman.

"Two wabs," answered the robot.

"Mi, hu mop," Huey said, his finger sliding over his trigger.

"Ba imbu?" asked the robot.

"Hap," answered the rifleman.

At the front of the structure was a big sliding door. Beside it were two soldiers, sitting on stump-stools at a simple table. Their black uniforms matched, although their helmets were off. One was roughly more insect-like, while the other was pink and lumpy and slimy. They each held several thick cards, and took turns rolling a die before moving colored pieces on a board.

The three video feeds were atop each other, three widescreen views from the Riftguard on the ground. Sometimes text would appear on-screen as well, though Jeff could not read it. The audio came in from all three personnel at once, which gave it a stereo-like out-of-syncedness that Jeff found a little strange but ultimately fine.

Jeff held a hand out in front of him, and leaned toward Jo. "Huey's about to shoot them, isn't he? Even though they're just playing a game?" He tried to speak quietly, but drew a head-turn from a couple others.

Jo spoke quickly. "They enlisted in the Dictatorship, a faction that is single-handedly responsible for eradicating entire races and taking by force every ounce of natural resource from many planets. They snuff out thriving cultures in order to install their militaristic regime wherever they go, and use the credible threat of genocide to rule by fear or ease subjugation. The universe has lost countless unique expressions of beauty and breath to their advances. They are the endpoint on the moral spectrum, and should not be afforded any comforts."

Jeff glowered, but also nodded. "Okay. Got it."

Huey squeezed the trigger.

A booming shot rang out through the valley. The insectoid's head cracked open, ejecting a chunky spurt of brown liquid. His body slumped, although two of his legs began flexing and flicking in a stuttery rhythm.

His glistening comrade hesitated, mouth-part agape. Before he could muster any real reaction, his own head burst open. Thick, clear liquid spilled all over the table, the ground, the door. The cards were scattered.

"Ip bipom?!" Pop spat in his digitized tone.

"Bo bap!" Huey shot back, and slung his gun across his back before clambering down ahead, then dashing downhill toward their goal. Pop ran beside him. Overhead, Zyra spun forward horizontally like a flying disc.

They arrived at the door, which Huey grabbed by a metal handle and grunted as he pulled to one side. They now had a nice, gaping entrance that immediately dipped into an inclined corridor. Plain metal walls were bolted into place. On on the ceiling were what looked like long banks of fluorescent bulbs, a wire snaking from one to another.

And in the middle of the ramp, an enemy soldier, pulling a handgun out of a holster.

Popper raised an arm. A flash of light burst forth from his palm, bright enough to elicit a gasp and a wince from the humanoid figure in black fatigues.

Huey had already brought his own weapon to bore. He fired a two-round burst. Their foe dropped in a heap and rolled down the incline a few yards before coming to a stop.

The floor leveled, then turned left at a right angle. The Riftguard walked forward, staying close to the left wall. Huey kept his weapon trained ahead. He approached the turn, then got down to one knee. He turned his head back toward Pop.

"Obs?"

The robot stood behind Huey. Pop held his arm above him, and out slid a length of metal rod with a lens on the end of it, facing the hidden corridor. They could all hear bootsteps and voices.

"Four wabs, bom hip pim," Pop announced.

Unit E muttered something quietly. He turned his head back further, toward Zyra, who was huddled behind them.

"Ba mam ip?" Huey asked.

Zyra's spines quivered.

Jeff turned toward Jo. Before he could say anything, Jo was already answering him.

"Huey was wondering how many hostiles were around the corner. Popper told him he could see four soldiers, with more coming. Huey is wondering is Zyra has any ideas."

Jo turned more directly to Jeff. As the two made eye contact, she gave a slight grin.

"She will."

The starfish spoke in a sing-songy tone, with intermittent chirps and clicks. "Mi. Pop hub pob-Huey, hu mo hip. Hu bim im-wib, Huey mo imbu po. Wubs pum, wu mo."

Huey looked to Popper. They shrugged.

"Mi, ap, mo," Huey said in a hush. He repositioned his legs and lowered his gun.

Popper kept the camera out, looking around the corner. He carefully raised his other arm, pointed to the opposite wall, to a spot in view of the corridor. The voices and footsteps were growing closer but quieter. One of the lights behind them was flickering on and off.

Zyra stood on two foot-arms, her foot-head facing the wall that Popper was indicating. The starfish-like Riftguard was rocking back and forth, leaning toward the wall then away, her deep-blue quills rippling in patterned waves across her body.

Everything was quiet for a couple moments.

Then Popper's forearm lit up. Across the wall, facing the corridor of foes, he projected an image of Huey bursting suddenly to the fore and opening fire, complete with the loud sound of automatic plasma-bolt gunshots.

The simulated image provoked a very real reaction: The Dictatorship forces returned fire of various calibers as the hall erupted with frenzied booms. They concentrated their attack on the image of Huey as the wall rapidly pockmarked with holes and tears, sparking and denting in a focused area.

The false Unit E stood in the corner, resolute and unmoving as he mounted a brave defense, or at least gave the impression of one.

And while the ruse still held attention, Zyra leaped into action.

She sprung through the air and bounced off the wall then tore around the corner in a midair spin. She flung one of her foot-arms ahead of herself. It made a fleshy pop noise, and the hall filled with a thick dust all around the enemy gunmen.

Popper lowered his arms, withdrawing the lens and ending the projection. He and Huey could hear the opposing combatants shouting in disarray amid the dust-fog.

Then there was a rush of hot air, and the screaming began.

Pop and Huey rushed around the corner, greeted by the sight of black-clad soldiers clawing frantically at their body armor, parts of which were on fire. The flames were bright and blue, like a blowtorch, as they ate away like acid at anything they touched. Sections of the walls were melting while floor panels burned as well.

Huey stepped forward and pulled the trigger, then stepped and pulled against. One by one, he granted a life-ending mercy to the Dictatorship troops. The hazy smoke cleared soon after as embers cooled. Zyra reattached her foot-arm and joined her two squadmates down the hall.

They came to a door, similar to the one they had found at the compound entrance. Huey grabbed a metal handle and pulled it to the side. The doorway opened to a larger room, wider and well-lit, with various machines running and scientific equipment in use. Three figures in white lab coats turned to the entryway, each distinct in size and shape.

They began to laugh.

"Crys, can you come here and give us a live translation?"

Jo spoke very quietly, but Crys turned his head and seemed to hear, because he walked briskly up the aisle and sat beside her, leaning toward Jeffrey and Sizzle.

On the Theater screen, the three feeds showed the Riftguard moving into the room, while the laboratory personnel held a boisterous conversation.

"They're mocking us," Crys began. "They're saying, ah, you must be that teleporting kill squad. Go ahead and shoot us, get on with it. We know you operate in this region. We haven't figured out why yet, but we will. Our bosses are onto you. A lot of us are waiting for a chance to take you out. So go on, do it, get it over with. One of them is taunting the others, saying he told them so, like they made some sort of wager."

Jo sighed. "I'm telling the Council about this."

Crys turned to her directly. "It won't make any difference. You know that."

The three researchers continued chattering and gesturing.

Huey stopped his advance, and waited for the others to do the same. "Okay. I don't understand what they're saying," he said in English. "I say we blow the place and get out of here."

Popper raised a hand. "We could at least give them some kind of warni--"

One of the scientists abruptly grabbed an object from the table beside him, aimed it at Pop, and fired. The projectile made contact just below the robot's left shoulder, then caromed upward and split open a modest crack in the ceiling. Pop's arm fell to the floor.

Popper stared at his severed limb while Huey shot the shooter, than a second researcher. The third managed to dive behind a metal container. Zyra dove after and clamped onto his face. The remaining staffer's cries were muffled while his feet shuffled against the floor for a few moments.

U-E reached and grabbed an explosive charge from his back that had been perfectly contoured against him beforehand. He set a timer, then set the bomb down on a table, and cocked his head back toward the corridor that led to the ramp.

"Let's go."

"And that's it. As long as they stay close together, one of them will activate their badge and they'll all jump back to the receiving room, the same one you came through. Normally we don't have any injuries, though, so this outcome is concerning. Some of us like to be there when teammates return from a mission, for the camaraderie. Others go back to their rooms at this point, if they hadn't already."

Jeff just nodded along, listening to Jo. The feeds on the big screen cut out. The room brightened. Some of the Riftguard made their way toward the exits, while others stuck around to chat, or headed to greet the three returning from the mission.

"I think we should spend time together." It was Sizzle, who was tracing the tip of one of her claws up and down Jeffrey's inner thigh. He was frozen in place, but gave the big lizard an awkward smile. She returned a toothy grin, then got up and left.

"Hey," Jo said, in a softer tone. She stood by Jeff. "I know it's a lot. But I have to show you one more thing. Follow me."

After a couple moments of looking at nothing in particular, Jeff rose. He followed her down the aisle, out the exit. Down a corridor, then to a larger, main hallway. They passed doors at regular intervals, until she stopped at one in particular.

Like the rest of Haven, the hall had high ceilings, and every surface was a smooth, glowing white. Jo pressed a button on a panel by the door, and it slid away. She walked through the doorway, and Jeff followed suit.

He stopped, and stared ahead. This was another plain, big box of a room, like the one he had first encountered in this place. But in the corner of this chamber was a bed. Queen-sized, by the look of it, with blue-and-white covers. By the bed was a wooden dresser and a simple desk. There was an odd smaller room, off to the side, with its own plain walls and a door, like a little shed. Across from the bed was a kitchen area with chrome-accented appliances. Beside those, there was even a washer and dryer, before some floorspace gave way to a massive thick, beige rug. On that, a plush black-leather couch faced a TV that hung on the wall.

Jeffrey felt like he kept noticing new details the longer he looked, although it was also amusing to see this living space dwarfed by all the empty air around it. The door closed behind him. Jo grabbed a tablet from a slot in the wall, then stood at Jeff's side.

"If it's not to your tastes, you can always change it, but I wanted to be sure you had some essential amenities. The furnishing program on the tablet is fairly intuitive, and you can always have Crys in here to talk through the process in real time. There are also options for clothes, food, whatever else you need. You can let your imagination run pretty wild, but this place does have some limits."

She held the tablet out, where he could see, and quickly scrolled through a selection of coffeemakers before backing up to the menu of different kitchen appliances, then eventually the main menu of the furnishing program, before showing him the home screen of the tablet. She stepped over and placed it back in its slot.

The girl stood by the door, and looked up to the man. He looked at himself, and his bedraggled outfit he still wore from work. He could still see the vomit spots from his wormhole sickness. He looked back to her.

"Take a deep breath, Jeffrey Davidson," she told him. "You've had a big day today. You should get your sleep, because you have another big day tomorrow. Any questions before I leave you to get settled in?"

Jeff looked at the floor between them. His thoughts at the moment were wordless and disconnected. He felt woozy, and on the steady verge of a minor breakdown. He was not sure how he was still standing, or keeping up with any new information at all. He did not feel a sense of time or place.

He looked to Jo.

"What's tomorrow?"

She sucked in a slow breath through her teeth, and made a small click sound with her tongue.

"Tomorrow, you meet the Council."