RIFT (The Rift Saga Book 1) (15 page)

Epilogue

MARK

Mark Novak sat in the soft leatherback chair, facing his old friend and partner, keeping his thoughts to himself, studying the head servant’s face as the latter studied the report on his infopad. It had been personally delivered by the master warden himself; a sign of how seriously they took this. Mark kept a straight face. He had come to like Head Servant Lunde as a person, even though he didn’t see how the man opposite from him could be capable of reforming the Covenant. Like himself, the head servant was too entrenched in the old guard. Even more so, come to think of it. Those of the Moon people who had been through the Youth Rebellion tended to think of themselves as the progressive force. Those who had changed the original Lunar society. Those who had led their people back. Those who had taken charge.

They were rulers now, bent on protecting their vision of Utopia. And Mark wondered how long they had left.

“You should get the treatment, Mark. I can see it’s about time,” his friend said, brow furrowed.

Mark waved him off.

“I can’t. Not now. There’s too much going on,” he said. Mark knew it was time, but he just couldn’t see himself taking months off to stay in a hospital, frozen for weeks at a time. He had to stay on top of this. If he went into treatment now, it could all be over before he got out. And if that happened, everything would be wasted. The world would go up in flames, just because he feared the effects of old age. He knew what would come, but not when or in what order. The first signs would be shocking to anyone of the Moon people, and even some who had earned their citizenship. The wrinkles, the loss of energy. He almost smiled, but managed to keep a straight face. It was absurd to him, but then again, he had lived at a time when all that was normal.

That would just be the beginning, though. Once his organs began to fail, or perhaps dementia came for him… Now, that would be serious. But he would have to face it for as long as he had to, and hope he still had time once the storm passed.

Head Lunde just shook his head, but didn’t reply. Mark watched him get up, walk over to his desk, and have a quick glance at his infopad, before he returned to his own chair.

“Nothing?” Mark asked.

“Nothing. It’s like they vanished into thin air. Up in smoke. Poof,” Lunde said, gesticulating with his hands, like a magician from the Legacy Circus. Mark looked away, losing himself in the crackling fire from that old fireplace, like he often did when the two of them sat there. That was one good thing he could say about his friendship with Alexej Lunde; the two of them were able to sit in the same room and think. Not chatter away all the time—just think. It was a rare thing, to have a friend he could sit with and not talk all the time. Had he ever had a friend like that?

Perhaps.

He thought of an old friend. Even though he’d been the most careful, sharp, cunning man he’d ever known, he had lost everything, even his life, in the end. Would Alexej end up the same way? Would Mark?

He was afraid the answer had to be yes, even if nobody could tell how long it would take.

But sooner or later, all men’s sins catch up with them.

And their sins were aplenty.

“I still think you should take it. The treatment. I think I can handle this, Mark,” the head servant said, a concerned look on his face.

Mark shook his head again.

“Alexej… Nobody knows more about this than I, and I’m telling you, I will be fine. Just a while longer. There’s too much happening right now. And you do need me,” he said.

“I wondered what happened to them. Where did they go?” Lunde said absently.

Mark stared at the fireplace again.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I know one thing. There’s a storm coming.”

~

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