Authors: Doug J. Cooper
He knew she had been separated from the other two, and her
escorts had guided her into an underground system of passageways. It was an old
military maze, and it proved to be most effective at hiding her from him. This
was not because of sophisticated devices that defeated his attempts at access. Quite
the opposite, it was because these were old, fortified tunnels with limited
technology—technology he would otherwise exploit to see and hear.
He had expected this to be a temporary situation and that she
would soon reemerge. She had not, and it had been several hours.
He pulled back and began a secondary level of exploration, starting
with the Fleet squad who had escorted Juice. He performed an exhaustive review
of their recent communications and conversations so he could understand their
orders, then he did the same for those who gave them their orders. He continued
this process, working his way up and out as he followed the trail of exchanges
and interactions until he understood.
On the last orbits before leaving for deep space, the
Kardish had obliterated Earth’s SmartCrystal infrastructure. The world’s leading
scientists, technicians, and engineers were dead. Equipment, facilities, and
supplies were destroyed. Earth was back to the Stone Age of crystal
development.
This made Juice a high-value asset for Fleet and the Union
of Nations. As a brilliant leader in the field before the wholesale slaughter,
she was now Earth’s remaining visionary for this coveted and critical technology.
When they had discovered she was alive, the decision-makers
deemed it a priority to safeguard and control her. Her knowledge and skill
placed her among the most precious resources on the planet. They would spare no
expense in helping to rebuild her crystal development work. For her own safety,
and to encourage and facilitate her success, they had taken her into protective
custody.
Juice slouched in a chair and looked
at the strangers across from her. They were gathered in the living area of a large
suite. It was well furnished, offered basic amenities, and attractive in an
institutional way. While several rooms had windows, outdoor light didn’t pass
through any of them. This was because the apartment was underground.
“I’ve been cooped up for too long,” she said to her
audience. “I want to go outside. I want to run in the park. I want to work in
my garden.”
“Dr. Tallette,” said the admiral, who seemed to be the person
in charge. “Of course we’ll get you outside. Very soon.” The admiral looked to
the others on her left and right. “But we, and by we I mean the Union, would
like to get you thinking about building your new crystal development lab. You
can build the facility of your dreams. It’ll be beautiful. You can have tons of
equipment, super support staff, and all manner of fun collaborators. It’ll be perfect!”
“What are you talking about?” Juice was incredulous. “If I
were to list the top ten things on my to-do list right now, there’s no way
building a lab would be on it. Even with a ton of
super fun
collaborators.
Hell, I’d have to go to my top one hundred list, and even then it’d probably
just squeak on.”
The admiral cleared her throat. “Well, it’s not necessary
that your collaborators be fun.” She looked for help from those around her. “Of
course. You can pick them!”
Juice stood up and walked to the door. “This was great.
Thanks for the sandwiches. Let’s do it again real soon.” She reached the door, but
it remained shut. “Open,” she commanded it. She tugged at the handle. The door
didn’t move.
She turned to face the group, her hands on her hips. “Open it.”
The ire in her voice was unmistakable.
“Dr. Tallette,” said the admiral, “we’re going to ask you to
stay here for a short while. It’s a dangerous world out there.” She swept her
arm around the room like a game-show hostess showing off a prize. “We want you
to remain safe in this sumptuous suite.”
A woman dressed in an outfit that gave no hint of rank or
association spoke up. “Dr. Tallette, may I ask you to take a seat? Please. If
you will be patient for a few more minutes, I will be honest with you.”
“Someone better be,” Juice said as she wandered back to her
chair. “And real soon. I’ve reached my limit here.”
“Everybody out,” commanded the woman. With no hesitation,
the others stood up and scurried for the door. It opened as they approached.
Juice looked at the open door, looked back at the woman, and calculated that
she wouldn’t have a chance. She remained seated, trying to affect a stare that
would bore a hole through the woman’s head.
The woman waited patiently, letting the silence settle over
them. “You are aware of the damage the Kardish did to our crystal manufacturing
and development infrastructure? Everything’s gone. The people you knew. The
places you worked.”
“Who are you?” Juice asked.
“I’m Captain Curie,” the woman said. “Please call me Marie.”
Juice tilted her head and studied Marie. “Aren’t you
supposed to pick a fictional character?” With this simple statement, Juice
shifted the power dynamic ever-so-slightly in her favor. People weren’t supposed
to know about the DSA, let alone its culture of pseudonyms. “Don’t worry,” said
Juice. “I’m a secret spy agent, too.” Her voice revealed a hint of pride. “I
haven’t gotten my badge yet, though.” Before Marie could comment, she continued.
“Does Sid know I’m here?”
“Of course he does. He’s very concerned for your safety.”
Juice nodded. She was pretty sure Marie was lying to her,
and now it was confirmed. Sid would never tolerate her being taken prisoner.
She was certain of that.
“You know, I’m really tired. If I’m stuck here for the
night, I think I’ll go to bed. Let’s chat more in the morning.”
Marie made no move to leave. “May I call you Juice?”
“Sure, until I think up my secret spy name.” Her brow furrowed.
“I see the problem. There just aren’t a lot of strong fictional female
characters to choose from. I mean, it would sound weird saying, ‘I’m Captain Woman.
Please call me Wonder.
’
”
Marie gave a tight-lipped smile. “Juice, there are a lot of
people who are excited that you’re alive.” She leaned forward to underscore her
next words. “Here is some honesty. They’re not excited because they care about
you as a person. Don’t get me wrong. They’re not cold or uncaring. They’ve never
met you, so they just don’t know you. But they do know your reputation.
“They’re excited because, a week ago, the experts were
telling us that climbing our way back up the crystal technology ladder would
take fifteen to twenty years. You being alive and here means that time frame might
now be five to ten years.” Marie’s face lit up. “A decade faster, Juice.
Because of you.”
“What if I don’t want to do that? What if I want to go home,
live my life, and become a gardener?”
Marie stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll let you get some
rest and we can talk some more tomorrow.”
“Bring Sid with you.”
“I’ll see if our schedules match. He’s a pretty busy guy.”
After Marie left, Juice tried the door and wasn’t surprised to
find it locked. She glanced at the viewer and saw a guard standing in the
hallway. Any thought that this was a misunderstanding evaporated. She was a prisoner.
She struggled to contain the resentment welling up inside
her. She was being detained because of her skills and education. That alone was
outrageous. The offense was compounded in her eyes because she’d just finished
risking her life for those who were now her captors.
A jumble of emotions swirled inside her. But it wasn’t this
injustice that dominated her thoughts. The center of her storm was her grief over
Criss and his inexplicable demise. She heard about the freighter’s failure to
capture the transport. She knew Criss could have ensured a successful retrieval.
No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t understand why he would choose to plunge
to his death.
He’d said it would be safer for the team if he was gone.
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” she said to the air, reflecting on her current
circumstances. She ached for the chance to talk with him about it. Sid had seemed
to understand his motives. She hoped to see him soon so he could provide
insights that would give her some closure.
Since she was a prisoner, she knew her captors were studying
her every move. She had learned from Criss that even ordinary citizens could be
monitored through the assortment of technology integrated into their daily
lives.
She stood in the center of the apartment and surveyed the
walls, floor, and ceiling, repeating the process from different vantage points.
If I could just locate their surveillance devices, perhaps I can use the
technology to relay a message to Sid and Cheryl
, she thought. She was resolute
in her belief that her teammates didn’t know she was being held prisoner. And once
they knew of her predicament, she was certain they would come to her rescue.
Her systematic search wasn’t encouraging. The kitchen held a
simple food and beverage service unit. She saw an exercise treadmill in an
alcove. There were recessed lights overhead and a voice thermostat to adjust
the heating and cooling. The suite offered the essentials and nothing more.
Ultimately, though, it didn’t matter. Without tools, her ability to exploit what
she found was nonexistent.
Her exploration ended in the bedroom. The entire suite was
so bare she couldn’t tell what time it was. And being underground, there was no
window to glance through. She didn’t need a clock to accept that she was
exhausted. It had been far too long since she’d last slept. Activating a small entertainment
panel to see what they permitted as allowable distractions, she grew frustrated
at the lack of selection and chose some music to fill the quiet.
She wandered into the bathroom and started her evening
ablutions. She was about to wash her face when the music was replaced by a
static hiss. A sense of hopeless despair descended over her. The harsh conditions
were being amplified by the denial of music. This was nothing short of psychological
torture.
But as the hissing continued, she turned and looked at the
entertainment panel. The sound was familiar. And then she smiled. The moment
the smile became a grin, the hissing stopped and the music returned. She
recognized that hiss—it was the complex signal Criss made that first time in
the lab. She didn’t need an audio analyzer to know he was calling to her. He
was still alive, and he knew where she was.
She bent over and washed her face. She didn’t want her
captors to see her glee. And she wanted to hide her tears of joy.
Cheryl closed the gate behind her
and slowed as she approached her home. Sid sat on her front stoop. She hadn’t heard
from him since their return, and while it had been only a couple of days, she was
preparing herself emotionally for a future where he would again let the embers
of their relationship die.
“Hey,” she said, stopping in front of him. She looked at him
expectantly. He had come to see her; she would let him speak.
He watched her approach, and when she stopped, he looked
down and studied the area around his feet. He found a pebble, picked it up, examined
it briefly, and tossed it into the bushes, then looked back at her.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. You know. About us.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “What about us?”
He searched for another stone. “I miss you.”
“Why?”
“I like being with you,” he said to his feet.
“Why?”
He looked up at her, clearly uncomfortable. Sid, the man who
could face certain death with aplomb, was at a complete loss in this situation.
“Come inside.” She rested a hand on his shoulder as she
climbed the steps past him. “Let’s not do this on the porch.”
He trailed her through the foyer and into her living area.
She carried an envelope, which she set it on a table as she walked by. It slipped
to the floor, and Sid picked it up and held it out for her.
She moved as if to accept his offering. But rather than take
the envelope, she grabbed the wrist of his outstretched hand. Her movement was
swift. Her action practiced. She placed her fingers flat against his wrist, her
thumb arching over and pressing into the back of his hand. The grip gave her
remarkable leverage. She used the advantage to swing his hand up and over in
front of his face. For a brief moment, it looked like he was waving good-bye.
* * *
Sid recognized her move as a basic
aikido
single-hand grab. It was one taught in beginners’ classes because it was easy
to execute. Its elementary nature, however, didn’t detract from its
effectiveness in controlling an opponent.
He saw her start the move and chose not to avoid it. As she completed
the grip, he chose not to break it. He let her execute the move and chose not
to counter. Instead, he did what every victim in a beginner’s class does when
their partner experiments with the powerful technique: he fell to his knees,
and as she swung his arm up behind him, he leaned forward in a vain attempt to
reduce the pressure on his shoulder.
On his knees, looking down at her feet, he heard her whisper
from above, “Why do you want to be with me?”
“We’re good together.”
“No, Sid. Explain it to me. Make it simple and clear. Say it.”
Just yesterday, his news feed had offered a puff-piece
article entitled “What Every Woman Wants To Hear.” He had skimmed the first
paragraph before moving on. Now, he couldn’t believe his luck. Fate was looking
out for him.
Bent over and looking at her feet, he followed the advice of
the author. “I love…your shoes.”
* * *
“Ahem.”
Cheryl lifted her head at the sound and saw a man she didn’t
recognize standing near the foyer. She was so startled by the intrusion that
she barely noticed as Sid rotated out of her grip and stood to face the
intruder.
“Cheryl, do you know this guy?” He moved away from her and
toward the stranger.
The man lifted his arms away from his body. His hands were
open and his palms faced forward. “No worries,” said the man. “It’s me.”
Cheryl heard the sound directly through her auditory nerve.
She recognized the voice. Sid stopped his advance.
“Criss!” said Cheryl. “I’m…confused.” She studied the image
and marveled at his realistic appearance. She couldn’t detect anything about
him that hinted at a simulation.
The man who was Criss disappeared from the foyer and reappeared
sitting in a chair in her living area. “Oh heck,” he said. He blinked back to
his original spot and this time walked to the chair. “Please bear with me. I realize
now that I can make image projection seem even more lifelike by constraining my
movements to natural actions.” He sat down again in the same spot and smiled.
“I’ve also decided to normalize my behavior by using contractions in my
speech.”
Cheryl detected a hint of pride in his voice. “Now I’m really
confused.”
“It’s great to see you,” said Sid. “But it’s only been three
days. I was expecting somewhere between two and four weeks.”
Criss got right to the point. “Juice needs our help.” He
briefed them on her situation, his earnest facial expression underscoring his
concern.
Sid was furious at this betrayal by his own people. He paced
as he considered what he’d heard. “I’ll get her out. Rescue is my specialty.”
“I can get her out, too,” said Criss. “I’ve kept maintenance
staff working on priority repairs all around her. That’s what they think
they’re doing, anyway. Mostly, though, they’ve been installing mechanisms and
devices I can override to gain control. I’m now able to lock or unlock any door.
I control surveillance and can take over communications in the complex when I
choose. She could stroll out of there today and remain in a bubble of protection
until she reaches the surface.”
“That works,” said Sid. “I can take it from there.”
Criss’s image shook its head.
Cheryl understood. “If you break her out, she becomes a
fugitive. Then she’s on the run, and her life won’t be any better than it is
now.” She looked at Criss as she thought it through. “We need to get her
officially released.”
Criss nodded. “I would suggest we get her released with a
formal apology.”
“Any ideas?”
“Cheryl, we start by having you call your father. You must convince
him to go visit Juice at once and personally set her free. He’d asked that she
be protected. That was a reasonable request. I don’t believe he intended that she
be held prisoner. Juice will be somewhat mollified if the chair of the Senate
Defense Committee shows up and apologizes.”
He looked at Sid. “To put on a proper show, the secretary of
defense should be by the senator’s side. The senator and secretary have talked
about Juice a number of times over the past few days. They both agree she’s
important to the future of the Union. My sense is that he’ll invest the time if
he believes that’s what it takes to make her productive.” He didn’t mention
whether the secretary knew about her being held prisoner. Sid didn’t ask.
Criss sat quietly for a few moments and then continued.
“This is a wonderful opportunity. The senator and secretary are both anxious
for Juice to provide technology leadership. It’s clear that, at best, she’ll only
cooperate if it’s on her terms. They’re looking for a path forward and will listen
if you present a reasoned plan.”
“So what’s the pitch?”
“You three are my leadership team, and I’ve been brainstorming
ways that you can physically get together without drawing attention or
suspicion. My idea is that you two volunteer to work with Juice to make her
productive. You also offer to provide her the security protection the Union
desires for her.
“This gets the Union what it desperately wants, and we get a
government-sanctioned directive for the leadership team to consult on a regular
basis. There’ll be no need to manufacture reasons or to sneak around anytime you
three decide to meet.”
Cheryl looked at Sid. “That last part is a bonus,” she said.
“But we need to help Juice either way.”
Sid and Cheryl each placed their call, finding both the secretary
and senator busy with other appointments. They left messages and prepared for
the nerve-racking wait for return calls.
Cheryl used the time to explore why Criss believed it was necessary
to play a charade over his death. “We had the story of your demise well established
during debrief. Why the extra drama? And why direct it at us?”
“There’s a segment of the population who believes in
conspiracies. For any topic of intrigue, the number of believers will grow or
shrink based on the credibility of the evidence. You three returned to Earth
empty-handed. That’s been well documented by independent sources. You believed
I was gone, so your official interviews and conversations with friends didn’t
require that you lie or mislead. Because of my charade, you didn’t do or say
anything that would feed a conspiracy.”
Cheryl did a poor job of hiding her frustration. “But since
I thought you were dead, my motivation to continue the fiction was lost. This
could’ve just as easily backfired.”
“Did you reveal my existence or change your story?”
“No.”
“I’m pleased it worked out well.” Cheryl frowned and Criss
continued. “While my charade has worked to minimize the number of people who
believe I exist, there remain some who do. Eventually, they’ll come looking for
me.”
“Are you secure?” asked Sid. “Where are you physically
located?”
“If you order me to tell you, I must do so.” He rubbed the
arms of the chair. It was a convincing display of someone struggling with unease
and indecision. “While we work to get Juice’s situation resolved, the fewer
specifics you know, the easier it’ll be to make the resolution evolve in a natural
fashion.”
Sid accepted this and didn’t press it. “What would you like
to see as an outcome?”
“There is an R&D facility located just north of the
city. It was used by government contractors for space-systems development. The
equipment and infrastructure are ideal for what Juice will want.”
“Is it available for her to move in?” asked Sid.
“The company has just received a huge contract that requires
them to move their entire operation south. So yes, the owner of the facility is
looking for a new tenant.”
“Any chance you had something to do with this large
contract?”
Criss smiled and then disappeared.