Crystal Conquest (14 page)

Juice sat with Sid and Crispin in comfy
chairs in the lookout loft. The highest room in the lodge, its clear walls and
ceiling made it a favorite gathering place for the members of the leadership.

Looking through a wall, Juice squinted out in the direction
of the scout and, except for a few bent branches, couldn’t see anything that even
hinted at the existence of a spaceship the size of a house perched near the
tree line. As an experienced technical scientist, though, she knew hiding
something from visual detection was an easier trick than hiding it from military-grade
seek systems.

“If the cloak will hide the scout from the locate-and-track
detectors in the defense array,” she asked Criss, “doesn’t that mean the array detection
subsystem has a weakness you know about? And if that’s true, can’t these invaders
exploit that same weakness?”

Before Criss could answer, Juice jumped in her line of
thinking. “And you don’t even know for sure that
anything
is coming, yet
you have us scrambling to prepare for the imminent arrival of the Kardish?”

Without taking a breath, she turned her attention to Sid.
“And how does Lenny make sense? God in heaven, even if we knew for sure this
was all a big nothing, the idea of taking him with you on the scout sounds so
incredibly dumb, it makes regular dumb look smart.”

She looked back out the window, imagined the scout where she
knew it to be, and tried to think of anything else she might do to help Sid
prepare for his trip to the asteroids. Sid laughed at her outburst, but she kept
her gaze out the window. She’d thrown a few rocks into the water, and she’d
learn a lot by how the waves rippled out from the splashes.

“You can go first,” Sid offered to Criss.

Criss had Crispin rub his knees with the palms of his hands.
“The defense array has the best detection capabilities and the scout has the
best cloaking technology I’m able to produce at this time,” he said through
Crispin’s mouth. “As it turns out though, this new cloak can elude the
detection system in the defense array. Or any detection system anywhere, for
that matter.”

“If you know how it works, you must be able to defeat it,”
she insisted.

Crispin shrugged. “The scout’s cloak absorbs a signal from
any direction, channels it around the outer surface of the ship, and sends it
on its way unchanged. It works for every kind of pulse or wave in the physical
world.” A wistful expression developed on his face. “The mathematical equations
that describe the physics are beautiful in their elegance.”

Sid sat up from his slouch. “Could the Kardish duplicate
this new cloak?”

“Yes, though it would require a crystal with my abilities to
conceive it.”

Juice, having led the development effort that created Criss,
knew he was a self-aware AI with the thinking and reasoning capability of a
thousand humans. She also knew the Kardish had influenced Criss’s design and
felt certain they could duplicate him on their home world. Criss seemed to be
implying something different.

Before she could follow up, Criss artfully deflected further
questioning by asking Sid, “Perhaps you can tell us about Lenny?”

Juice took the bait. “Seriously, Sid. You know that Fleet
and your old spy agency have people with amazing skills and top secret
clearance.”

Sid responded by activating his com. A small three-dimensional
image projected between them, showing Lenny in his room. Standing next to the entertainment
panel—the one that had a cheery fire display when he’d been escorted into the
suite—the panel was now a mess.

He’d succeeded in removing an access plate to expose the
inner workings, and bits and pieces that used to be inside now dangled freely.
Chewing his tongue as he concentrated, he appeared to be connecting a filament
between two tiny posts on a small slide board.

Juice leaned forward to get a better view.
Damn. He’s got
skills
, she thought. After they watched for a few seconds more, she asked,
“Where’d he get the tools?”

Sid broadened the image, and the food service unit, or what
was left of it, became visible in the picture.

“I love this.” Sid pointed next to the service unit where a
stack of food and water was arranged on the counter in organized piles. “He had
the foresight to collect a stockpile before he attacked the unit, and then he destroyed
the thing to get parts he could use as tools.” Sid waved his hand at the
floating image. “With tools, he can do this.”

“What’s his endgame?” she asked.

“He’s about three hours away from building a crisis beacon,”
said Criss. “If he gets that far, emergency services will be here minutes
later.”

“Nice work, Lenny,” she said with a touch of admiration in
her voice. She looked at Crispin. “You’ll override it if he gets that far?”

“No worries,” said Criss.

“Clearly, the kid has talents,” said Sid. “And up until a
few days ago, he was a quiet young man who spent his time working on school
projects, sim games, and”—Sid struggled for a word—“inappropriate hobbies.”

He gave Juice a thumbnail summary of Lenny’s voyeuristic pursuits.
She responded with an eye roll.

“Anyway, he developed technology in one of his projects that
told him about Criss, which itself is mind-boggling, and now he’s here on his
grand quest.”

Sid killed the projection. “I’m not comfortable letting him run
free on a hunt for Criss while we’re on alert and I’m away.” He looked at
Juice. “Have you changed your mind about tossing him into a ravine?” She didn’t
answer and kept her expression impassive.

“My first three choices for a partner are on the moon with
Cheryl,” he said. “And given the uncertainty we’re facing, I want to leave them
there supporting her. I have a couple of buddies from the agency with the right
skill set, but it would take at least a day to bring them in from the field,
and more time after that to brief them and get their buy-in.

“With Lenny, I can be out of here a few hours from now. He’s
technically brilliant, good with his hands, has a creative mind with a
diabolical bent, and he’s willing to work hard for long hours to get a job
done. He’s a bit whiny and annoying, but I’m pretty sure I can whoop that out
of him in the first few hours.”

“Are you going to ask him first?”

“Sure, after we’re underway and past the moon. I’ll give him
the option of getting with the program or exiting the hatch and seeing if he
can float home.”

“Huh.” She sat back and mulled what she’d heard.
Given
that it’s a Sid thought process, it almost make sense.
“Smart isn’t the
same as skilled. The second one takes training and practice.” She looked at
Crispin. “What’s he done relevant to space operations?”

Sid answered for Criss. “He actually has one of the highest Fleet
pilot ratings on the planet.” He paused for dramatic effect. “In the Fate or
Fortune sim game, anyway. I don’t think he’s ever been on a real ship, though.”
He looked at Crispin, who shook his head.

Sid picked up his coffee, tilted his head back, and drained
the mug. As he brought his arm down, he flipped his hand, hurtling the cup at
Crispin’s head. Crispin’s arm moved in a flash; the rest of him remained
motionless. He caught the speeding mug in the palm of his hand before it hit his
face.

“What the hell, Sid?” Juice put a hand on Crispin’s shoulder
as if to protect him.

Crispin set the mug down. “Please don’t be upset, young
lady,” she heard Criss say privately inside her head. “He’s leaving Crispin as
your partner and bodyguard, and he needs to prove to himself a last time that
he’s making the right choice. From that view, his test of the synbod’s reflexes
reinforces how important you are to him.”

Juice continued to glare at Sid. He, in turn, gazed into the
distance, his eyes unfocused. She wondered what bizarre thoughts were banging
about in his brain.

Criss continued his private communication. “You know I can’t
do what he does. While I forecast outcomes using probabilities and likelihoods,
he visualizes the big picture from the perspective of motivations and
behaviors.”

Sid’s eyes focused as he surfaced from his trance. “Juice, I’d
like to talk about how you can help over the next week or so.”

“Whatever you need.” She knew she’d be playing a role and
had been waiting to hear.

“I ask that you move up to the farmhouse. Take Crispin with
you as your partner. Your job will be to support Criss and keep him in play if
the worst-case scenario develops.”

Criss’s bunker was deep beneath a small farm located halfway
up the mountainside that faced the lodge from the south. The entrance to his
underground lair was through a secure door hidden inside a barn. Though she
knew she couldn’t see it from the loft, Juice looked up the hill in the
direction of the farm.

“If this progresses as I fear,” said Criss. “We should have
you below ground with me. You’ll be safe in the bunker, and your task will be
to help keep me connected so I can coordinate Earth’s response. If I go
offline, even for a few seconds, the consequences could be devastating.”

“What I haven’t figured out, though,” said Sid, “is who’s
going to act as chaperone between you and droid-boy.”

“Give it a rest,” she snapped. The teasing was annoying
enough on a regular day, and given what she’d just heard, she wasn’t in the
mood to be gracious about it. Overlaying her ire was simple fear. She was
scared.

She knew Sid had lived through years of crazy violence as a
covert warrior, and gallows humor seemed to help him maintain sanity and focus
in horrifying situations. She suffered emotional trauma from her one battle
experience and was certain she never wanted to go through anything like that
again.

Thinking about how the Kardish had devastated Earth’s
crystal development and production infrastructure, she traced the top of her
breast pocket where she carried an extra anti-traumatic-stress pill. She
decided she felt okay at the moment, so she turned her attention to others. “If
they’re coming, Crystal Research is at risk, isn’t it?”

“If it’s them and they’re here for revenge,” said Criss, “everything’s
at risk.”

Juice lifted her knees under her chin and wrapped her arms
around her legs, pulling herself into a small, tight ball.
My best friends
work at the complex.
In fact, she considered everyone there to be part of
her family.

She centered her thoughts on her employees, letting their
plight supplant her fears. “I can’t run and hide and leave them to die. Can we send
them away? Maybe phony up a business conference or something?”

“Depending on how things develop, it may not matter where
they’re located,” said Criss.

Juice laid her head on her knees and looked into the
distance.
I can’t save the world, but I can try and help my friends.

Speaking from the contorted position, she said, “How about
if we tell them that the new crystal production line is being built over the
next few weeks. There’ll be lots of strangers coming and going. We’ll announce
that we’re going to lock down everything for security. All employees should
work from home until further notice.”

She looked at Sid, who nodded. “If it works for you, it
works for me.”

She turned to Crispin, and he tilted his head in agreement.
So Juice did something she rarely did and issued a command as leadership: “Criss,
please handle it.”

Convinced of a looming danger, Criss
studied the latest readings from that troubling sector of space. He combined scans
from the probe swarm with feeds from the dishes and scopes he’d commandeered,
and examined the composite pictures with anticipation.
Nothing.
Whatever
was out there remained hidden.

He cast his net wider, digging for clues that would help him
identify the threat so he could improve Earth’s defensive position. Serendipity
rewarded his efforts when he stumbled across an old prospecting ship making its
way out to the asteroids. The ship’s antiquated navigation system kept a record
of its mapping sweeps, and Criss found one sweep that coincided with the
direction and timing of his first faint sighting of the anomaly out at the edge
of the solar system.

The downlink from the aging prospector ran slower than a
crawl, and he waited impatiently for the mapping information to dribble in. When
it was finally complete, his anticipation rose again as he merged the mapping data
from the prospector with the previous scans from the probe swarm.

Performing a fresh analysis of the first sighting, he combed
through the enhanced images for new insights on the intruder. But instead of
seeing a sharper picture of the object at the edge of the solar system, he saw
the starkness of empty space.
Not possible
, he thought.

He ran through it all again. And again.
Now both are
gone?
He isolated his original probe swarm scans, and to his great
confusion, there was no faint dot. Nor was there a glint of light. He reviewed
his backup scans, and then the backups to the backups. Whatever he’d seen had
disappeared.

Unnerved and confused, Criss focused every bit of his intellectual
capacity, leaving but scant coverage for his leadership, and judged his past
actions. He traced through time, examining each decision. He reviewed his procedures,
studied security, and tested equipment. He researched and audited and assessed.
He couldn’t find flaws in his process, yet his last piece of evidence on the existence
of an invader had vanished.

Criss pulled inside himself and asked fundamental questions.
Am I stable? Am I sane? Did I imagine these sightings? Can someone
delusional know this about themselves? How is it possible for history to
change?

He recognized that he himself could manipulate image feeds without
leaving any trace of an intrusion.
I do it all the time, but no one else can
.
And then he felt shame as the realization rushed through the tendrils of his
crystal lattice.

His reasoning worked by creating a massive decision matrix
and projecting actions and reactions in a logic tree that branched into billions
of possible scenarios. Evaluating the tree, he’d pick out its strongest branch
and follow it as his pathway forward. He’d repeat the process millions of times
per second as he progressed through his day.

His ego—perhaps arrogance—had prevented him from sprouting logic
branches that grew from the idea that a crystal of his capability might be on board
the Kardish vessel. He’d never experienced living in a world with a peer and
wondered if that had something to do with it.
I don’t have time to
rationalize my failure.

Allowing the possibility of an intellectual equal, one
branch of his logic tree swelled larger than all others. It was obvious now. Criss
knew the Kardish had helped with his design. Of course they could build
another.
They have a crystal gatekeeper like me on their vessel.

His ego still reigned supreme, however, because he pruned
all logic branches that projected the idea of an intellect superior to his. The
notion of a crystal with a capability a thousand times greater than his never
made it as far as a feeble twig.

Can I win a battle against an equal?
He had no prior
experience with such a matchup and couldn’t think of a way to obtain any. He’d
do his best, using whatever time he had to prepare his first moves and
countermoves, but he suspected his challenger had been refining its strategy
for months. Their first skirmish would be live action, and Criss had little
doubt there would be devastating collateral damage to Earth and its populace.

On the upside, his new-found understanding of the situation
brought with it a certain calm. He now realized the Kardish were cloaked, which
explained why he couldn’t see them.
But why did they uncloak at least twice
during their approach?
It was curious behavior.

And his past confusion over disappearing evidence now had an
explanation.
These are the crystal’s early moves
.
Forewarned is
forearmed.
He’d learn from his past mistakes and change his behavior
accordingly.

Because they were cloaked, he didn’t know where the Kardish
were on their trip Earthward. They could arrive in days. Or it might be hours.
They might even be in orbit right now, watching and preparing.

Ramping up security and providing support for his leadership
became his highest priority. He thought it wise to go to mission silence as
soon as possible, but he first needed to position Sid, Juice, and Cheryl so
they could help. What moves should he make that were best for them? What was
best for humanity?
And what is best for me?

As Sid had suggested, he’d have Juice and Crispin join him
in his underground bunker as soon as possible. Each of the leadership should
have backup partners. He’d use Crispin to protect Juice, and both Juice and
Crispin would protect him. With her intelligence and training, Juice had the
skill to keep him up and in play as events unfolded, providing benefit to the
leadership as well as the people of Earth.

Cheryl was tragically vulnerable on the moon, yet the best
option—the only one really—was to keep her there. She had actual battle experience
and understood the capabilities of the defense array better than anyone. Under
her leadership, the array should last a day or two and might be able to hurt
the Kardish enough to lessen their rain of destruction bound for Earth.

It’d be a miracle if the array lasts a week
, he
thought. And it was a virtual certainty that when it died, so would she. He
agonized over the thought of positioning her for death, but he couldn’t see an
alternative.

If he put her on a transport back to Earth and the action
started when she was en route, the Kardish would vaporize her ship. It would be
a trivial effort for one of their mighty war vessels. She’d vanish without
making a single contribution to Earth’s defense.
And she’d be offended by
the mere hint that she leave her crew behind and run for cover.

He considered telling her his assessment of the options and
their consequences. He even toyed with the idea of telling her good-bye.
Ignorance
is indeed bliss.
She was already gearing up for the fight of her life. He’d
let her focus on that job.

Sid was committed to getting the scout up and outward bound
as soon as possible, and while Criss often had difficulty understanding Sid’s
motives or thought processes, he supported this choice. With the new cloak, Sid
had a chance of getting the scout in position behind the Kardish as they moved
toward Earth. And if he succeeded in doing that, he became the wild card in the
game.

His whole life is a wild card
, Criss thought. Sid had
a track record of making decisions and taking actions that Criss found
bewildering. Yet time and again, these unpredictable behaviors proved decisive in
advancing the goals of the leadership. Criss had conceded long ago that he wasn’t
able to forecast what Sid might do next. His most recent act of randomness—one
that bordered on lunacy from Criss’s perspective—was choosing Lenny as his
partner on the scout.

But Sid was comfortable with the idea, and there wasn’t time
to advocate for alternatives. Beyond that, Criss’s job was to support the
decisions of his leadership, not undermine them.

When Criss first became unnerved by the realization of a
powerful crystal competitor, almost two seconds passed as he gathered and
focused his intellectual capacity, completed his analysis and self-reflection, made
decisions about how to move forward, and reengaged with his normal rhythms. These
seconds being the longest he’d ever been disconnected from his usual routine, he
was relieved to find humanity and his leadership had continued with their lives
as if he’d never been away.

* * *

Juice sat in the scout’s command
seat, tapping the surface of the operations bench and studying the images floating
in front of her. Sid was back at the lodge making final preparations for his
flight, and she used the time to evaluate the crystals installed on the small
ship. It was in her nature to be cautious, and as a crystal expert, she knew it
was easier to find and fix glitches while still on the ground.

“They look green and clean from here,” she said to Criss.
She tapped again and studied a new display. “You’ve linked the two together to
work as a single unit.” She zoomed the view and leaned forward. “Nice.”

The three-gen crystals had been pulled from two Kardish
drones in Criss’s hidden stash. With the loss of their crystals, those two drones
became useless. But in return, the scout now had the intelligent automation Sid
needed to pilot the sophisticated vessel during his mission.

“It takes the full capability of one crystal just to
maintain the cloak,” Criss said in her ear. “I’ve trained the other to operate
this specific ship. Sid won’t have hands-free flying, but it’ll be pretty
close.”

Juice finished her testing and started poking through random
routines and displays. The tech enthusiast in her reveled in the new features
and functions Criss had added in the two years since she’d last been on the
scout.

Criss interrupted her playtime. “Sid and Crispin are
bringing Lenny now. I’ll see you up here at the farm in about an hour?” His tone
made it sound both like a question and a request.

“I haven’t had a chance to exercise today, so I was hoping
to run up with Crispin. I need to change and warm up, and it’s a steep hill, so
it’ll be closer to three hours.”

She heard a commotion behind her and turned to see Sid emerge
from the narrow passageway. As he stepped onto the bridge, he pulled Lenny
behind him, a hand gripping the young man’s upper arm. Sid had a pack over his
shoulder. A second pack, clutched in the hand not holding Lenny, hung down by
his knees.

As they crowded onto the small bridge, Crispin followed, holding
a duffel and Lenny’s carryall. Sid tossed the packs he was carrying to the
floor against the hull. Crispin gently placed the duffel and carryall next to Sid’s
packs.

Juice stood, walked over to Sid, and stopped in front of him,
searching his face for any sign of emotion.
We need your magic on this one
,
she thought as she threw her arms around him and gave him a long hug.

“Take care, Sid. I’m counting on seeing you back here safe
and sound when this is over.”

Sid returned the hug and kissed the top of her head. “It’ll
work out. It always does.”

She moved around Sid and stood next to Crispin, putting an
arm around his waist. “Last call before we shove off,” she said. “Anything you
need?”

“Hey,” said Lenny. “You’re Dr. Tallette. I need to see you.”

She looked at him and held his gaze for a long moment,
giving him the coldest stare she could muster. “Exactly what parts of me do you
need to see,
Lenny
?” She said his name in the most derisive fashion she
knew how.

Lenny furrowed his brow. And then he seemed to catch the subtext
of her statement and turned bright red and looked at the ground.

Juice let go of Crispin and led the way through the narrow
passageway and back outside through the bottom hatch.

She stood on the ground next to Crispin and looked up as the
hatch closed. “Anchors aweigh,” she called.

It was an odd illusion to watch. Like looking up into a
tunnel that floated above her, everything was cloaked except where they could
see inside the ship. As the hatch closed, the tunnel became an ever-shrinking
slice, and then it disappeared.

She followed Crispin at a slow jog until they were halfway
back to the lodge, then they slowed their pace, walking until they heard a soft,
thin whine. They turned to look. The grass in front of the willow tree swirled in
a violent dance, and the branches of the willow itself began to pirouette. The
sound rose above them and diminished rapidly in the distance. Sid and Lenny
were on their way.

Turning to Crispin, Juice said, “It’s a good two-hour run up
to the farmhouse. Let me change and loosen up a bit before we start.”

Crispin nodded, and Criss said from the synbod’s mouth, “You
have some clothes and personal items up at the farmhouse, but I suggest
thinking through what else you might need if this stretches out to two or three
weeks.”

She looked at Crispin. “You think it could last that long?”

“If it does, it means we’re holding our own, and that’s a
good thing.”

“A corollary is that if it doesn’t, it means we’ve lost.”