Crystal Rebellion (19 page)

“What did they say exactly?” she asked, leaning forward.

“Sid said we either need to tell Alex or kill him, then Cheryl
and he started squabbling about the best way to dispose of the body here on
Mars. When they couldn’t agree, they decided maybe it was just easier to tell
him and be done with it.”

“They did not. Did they?”

Criss laughed. “No. Whatever you decide is what they want.
That’s the truth.”

Humming, she carried her coffee to the bedroom and readied
for her day.
I can’t be mad at Alex because he was smart enough to connect
the dots.

Being open and honest about Criss would repair the rift
between them and remove the issue as a source of future conflict. It would also
open the way for them to move quickly on finalizing the transfer protocol. As
things stood now, that was their highest priority.

After a short walk to the tech center, she breezed through
its lobby and down to the fab facility. As she approached the door, nervous
excitement caused her stomach to flutter.
A second cup of coffee wasn’t the
best choice for breakfast
.

The door hissed open, and fixing a smile on her face, she
entered.

“Good morning, J,” said Alex, smiling back at her over the
top of the crystal growth chamber.

As he came around the machine, she announced with a bit too
much drama, “I have something to say.”

He stopped, waiting, so she continued, “This is Criss.”

Criss, wearing a white lab coat, appeared next to the ICEU.

“Hello, Alex,” said Criss, whose image nodded a greeting,
then turned from them to study the ICEU panel display.

“Everything you were guessing about him last night is
correct.”

“Wait,” said Alex, looking up at the ceiling. “Ruga is
watching.”

“Ruga knows. Criss is the pet he taunted me about.” She
caught Alex’s eye. “I’m putting everything out in the open for you. No secrets.
I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday.”

“No.” Alex looked at the ground. “I shouldn’t have pushed you
after you asked me not to.”

The lab door hissed open and a Blue entered.

“Is that Ruga?” asked Juice, the question escaping her lips
at the same time it formed in her mind.

“Yes,” said Criss.

Ruga remained still, watching. Then, clasping his arms
behind his back, he began, “Good morning, everyone. I propose that we fabricate
the crystal today and run it through a validation test tonight.”

He gestured toward the crystal growth chamber in the center
of the room and looked at Juice. “Since Crystal Sciences has automated those
steps, you and your pet can use that time to finalize the transfer protocol. We
move me into the new crystal tomorrow night.” He winked. “And you will want me to
be awake and alert before noon the next day or you won’t like what happens next.”

“What should we do after we wake you?” asked Alex. “You’ll
need a console to function at full capability.”

A scowl formed on Ruga’s face and he spoke in a crisp
cadence that gave Juice goose bumps. “I suggest you focus on the assignments
you already have.”

Ruga walked to the worktop along the wall, picked up the jar
of crystal flake, and carried it to the crystal growth chamber. “There,” he said
as he set it next to the feed hopper. “I’ve gotten you started.”

Moving back near where the jar had been, he assumed a
watchful stance, silent and unmoving except for his hands, which clenched into
fists and then relaxed, over and over in a slow, repeated motion.

Juice looked at Criss and nodded at the crystal growth
chamber. “We should start by reviewing Alex’s modifications.” She tapped and
swiped through the panel displays, and he joined her at the machine. “Will this
work?” She pointed at symbols in a complex logic sequence.

“It will,” Criss said in her ear. “But his settings are too
aggressive. It will skew during fabrication.”

“Did you know the mainline isn’t centered?” she asked Alex over
her shoulder. Criss pointed and Juice looked where he indicated. “And your
amplification is high.”

Criss pointed again. “No,” she said. “This won’t work.”

“Reset?” suggested Criss in private.

“We’re going to reset,” she said out loud, tapping the panel
and authorizing the procedure.

“No!” Alex’s tone pitched up as he voiced his objection. “You
can’t use default settings here. The gravity is lower and so is the air
pressure. I spent weeks calibrating that.”

She stepped back and, watching the machine cycle, said in an
absent voice, “I’m sorry.” Working through a sequence she’d executed dozens of
times, she picked up the jar of crystal flake that Ruga had moved, opened the
lid to the side hopper, and emptied the contents into it. “This unit uses
active placement so it isn’t affected by either. I thought you knew that.”

“Ready here,” Criss called aloud.

She walked back next to him and looked at the main panel
display. All six status bars glowed green.

“Here we go,” she said, signaling her authorization.

With a quiet hum, the machine began the precision
fabrication of an intricate four-gen crystal lattice.

Alex watched Juice and Criss work
together in perfect harmony—he anticipating her needs, guiding her, supporting
her, enabling her.

Juice swiped the main panel on the crystal growth chamber and
studied the display. “It’s developing well,” she said, pointing to something
for Criss to see.

She doesn’t see him as the projected image of an AI
crystal
, thought Alex, fascinated by the intimacy of their relationship.

With the crystal growth chamber humming away, Criss turned his
attention to the ICEU. Putting his hands on his hips, he announced, “Now this
is a work of art.”

“Thanks,” said Alex, welcoming the chance to be included. He
looked at Juice as he spoke. “I spent six months on this baby. It turns out
that pulling the matrix out of one crystal and laying it into another is more
difficult than you might think.” Flustered, he blushed. “Well, you would know.
But most people wouldn’t.”
You are a prize idiot.

Juice rescued him. “Would you walk us through it?”

His presentation took twenty minutes, and at the end Juice
looked at Criss. “What do you think?”

“I think Alex did an excellent job. I compliment him for his
ingenuity and resourcefulness.”

“Ouch.” She looked at Alex. “First, let me say that every
time I do anything, Criss has to fix it. So don’t feel bad when he makes
suggestions.” She rested a hand on his arm. “And when he starts his suggestions
with broad compliments like he just did, he’s about to tear you apart. Sorry.”

Criss then began a focused conversation with Juice. Together
they discussed and debated as she tapped and swiped a string of modifications into
the ICEU supervisor. Alex tried to follow along with what they were doing, but
when he realized that Criss and Juice held a second conversation he couldn’t
hear, he gave up.

By the time Criss announced he was done, Alex had moved to a
chair on the opposite side of the lab from Ruga. Sitting there, he felt both
miffed and dejected over their dismissal of his work.

“What do you think?” Juice asked in a cheery voice. She
walked over and tugged on his arm. “C’mon. This is still your brainchild.”

“Hardly,” he said, rising from the chair. But he thrilled at
her attention and was anxious to salve his wounds. Before he reached the
machine, though, Ruga called from behind, “Show me.”

Ruga didn’t move, but a heartbeat later, he announced,
“Good.”

Alex could not see that Ruga and Criss had taken an
extensive tour of the ICEU from the inside, visiting every link and connect,
and reviewing every method and procedure. But he did see Ruga shift his gaze to
Juice and say, “I encourage you to run a trial before tomorrow night.”

Then he looked at Alex. “Larry will stay and help.” The
synbod froze and then reanimated with a serene smile.

Alex turned to Juice, but instead of finding someone to
share his anxiety, he saw her turn away and begin a private conversation with
Criss. Annoyance fed his unease when he heard her side of the conversation,
which sounded like a whispered list of directives. “Yes. There. More. Next. Got
it. Yup.”

After a dozen more clipped syllables, she turned to Alex. “Criss
has started a test on the ICEU that will take hours to complete. Why don’t we
wait in your private office?”

Having never experienced anything like this recent swirl of
events, Alex jumped at the chance to move to a quiet place where he could
collect his thoughts. But when he and Juice slumped onto the loveseat, he
learned that his wild ride had not ended.

“Sid, Cheryl, and Criss are about to create a battle plan,”
said Juice. “At some point, they will assign me a task. They wonder if you
would be willing to help with mine or even accept a task of your own.”

“Sure. Whatever.” He shifted his knees so they pointed
toward the door and cleared his throat with a nervous squeak. “Will it be dangerous?”

The others appeared before she could answer, and Alex found himself
in the middle of a fascinating—and frightening—exchange.

Seated next to Cheryl, Sid started speaking the moment his
projected image resolved. “When Ruga goes under, we sound the alarm and get
everyone to safety.” He touched Cheryl’s knee. “You okay to lead that?”

Cheryl, already reviewing emergency evacuation plans on a
private display with Criss, responded without lifting her eyes. “Way ahead of
you, love.”

Sid continued, “While that happens, Criss shuts down all the
synbods, taking them out of the equation. He spoofs feeds to Lazura and Verda
to keep them occupied while he breaks into the secure area. There, he locates and
disables the traps.” Sid shifted his gaze to Criss. “I trust you can fill in
the details?”

“Way ahead of you, love,” Criss deadpanned.

Sid didn’t pause, though his mouth flickered up at the edges.
“I’m going to make my way out to the mine, and when Criss has control, I’ll
pluck the Triada from their consoles. That will stop them once and for all.”

A habit learned as a youth, Alex raised his hand just before
he spoke. “Don’t underestimate Lazura.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know if she’s involved in Ruga’s plan, but I’ve
worked with her enough to know that she looks out for herself and plans with
care. She’ll be well protected and will have both offensive and defensive
capabilities. Expect impressive resistance, that’s all I’m saying.”

“What about Verda?”

“If you can get past Ruga and Lazura, then Verda will not be
a problem.”

“Are we covered, Criss?” asked Sid.

“My forecasts have factored in a strong showing from Lazura
and Verda. We are covered.”

Looking at Alex, Sid continued, “Earlier you asked Ruga about
his console and he got angry. So first, good job on that.”

Pleased by the encouragement, Alex nodded. “He will want a
console that is four-gen capable so he can flex his new abilities.”

“What are his options?” Sid asked Criss.

“There’s a four-gen console on the scout,” said Criss. “But I
occupy it and have no intention of giving it up. I made sure the
Venerable
is four-gen capable as a backup plan for my own security, and again, since I
need it, he can’t have it. I haven’t located anything beyond those two options.”

“Could he get to the
Venerable
?”

“Beyond the fact that it’s in orbit,” said Criss. “He’d need
to figure out how to move his crystal without synbods after I shut them down.”

“Juice,” said Sid. “Would you look around and try to locate his
new console? This would be a data search only.” Sid swirled his hand in front
of him to indicate Alex’s office. “Whatever you can do from right here.”

“What could I find that Criss couldn’t?”

“I’ll settle for luck at this point. Develop an
investigative process and start gathering clues. Maybe something you do triggers
an idea for Criss.” Sid shrugged. “I know it’s a long shot, but I think we
should try.”

“We have a few hours before we need to be back in the lab. I’ll
poke around until then.” Juice straightened. “Can Alex help me?”

“Actually, I need Alex’s help on something different. And Criss,
feel free to interpret because I don’t know all the words.”

Sid looked at Alex, who felt his heart rate spike. “So, if
Lazura can use her tools to track Ruga, can you as well? Can you figure out how
that’s done?”

“Not likely,” said Alex. “But I can poke around too if it’s
the same rules as Juice.”

Sid nodded. “Be focused and creative, move as fast as you
can, and maybe you’ll spark a lead for Criss.”

With battle plans issued, the meeting ended and Alex was again
in his office with only Juice and Criss. As he oriented his thinking back to
the smaller group, he thought about his assignment and formed the question,
What’s
the best way to start?

But he didn’t ask it.

Because Juice and Criss were deep in a private conversation.
Again, he could only hear her side, and she whispered to the AI at a rapid clip
using her shorthand language: “Yes. There. More. No.”

He hadn’t noticed before, but she rested her arms on her lap
and moved her fingers as she spoke. Like tiny nervous twitches, her fingers
danced in complex patterns.

She’s manipulating something he projects for her,
he realized.
While he could only imagine how it worked, Alex appreciated that with a clever
interface, the two could exchange information at a fantastic rate, allowing
them to communicate at a different, higher level.

And as he realized this, an uncomfortable doubt settled in
the pit of his stomach.

This is not the same J.

This Juice lived in a cooperative human-AI dependency. When he
spoke with her, he talked to Criss too. Whether visible or not, during a
conversation he would be there, feeding her his own thoughts in private, molding
her opinions, and guiding her actions.

Even when we are being intimate.

Sitting back, he contemplated such a relationship.

You don’t have time for this,
he scolded himself.
Lives
hinge on what happens next.
The thought energized him and helped his focus.

Shifting over to his tech bench, he tapped the cool surface.
The Tech Assembly design portal projected above the bench, and from it he tapped
open the plans for the new surveillance repeater.

“What are you thinking?” asked Criss, whose projected image
now sat on a stool next to Alex.

“I’m thinking Lazura wouldn’t invent a new tracking method for
every tool we develop.” His excitement rose as his thoughts formed. “So however
she does it, it has to be part of the common module we use in everything we do.
I thought I’d start there.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” said Criss. “I compliment you on
your ingenuity and resourcefulness.”

“Ouch,” Juice said from the loveseat.

* * *

Sid followed the glowing arrows through
the tech center lobby, down a hallway, and to a door. Cheryl, following behind,
touched his shoulder to signal her readiness. Together they entered the fab facility.

“Good morning,” Sid called to Juice and Alex. “Care to watch
the parade?”

The machine tests had been flawless. Everything functioned as
designed. And so Ruga had jumped the transfer schedule ahead by four hours. The
change caught Sid off guard and out of place.

It was a good move,
Sid acknowledged, refining his
opinion of his adversary. Because now their carefully laid plans no longer synced,
and that meant they’d be improvising.

Criss projected a floating display and Sid motioned the
others to join him around it. In life-like miniature, it showed a phalanx of
synbods moving as a group down Civic Avenue. By coming to the facility, Ruga
took the first step in his four-gen transfer. The ICEU, designed to tease his cognition
matrix out of his current lattice, could do so only after his crystal was mounted
in the machine’s transmission module. And that meant his actual crystal needed
to travel to where the machine resided.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sid saw Cheryl rotate her
wrists back and forth. He did the same, finding reassurance in the action. Both
of them wore military-grade ultrathin wrist weapons. Neither cared who saw.

In fact, Sid flaunted it for Ruga.
You want to conduct this
transfer at gunpoint? We’ll oblige.
He acknowledged, though, that it wasn’t
an equal match because Ruga’s gun was really a doomsday device.

“At the rate they are moving,” said Criss, “they will be
here in ten minutes. He’s using the entire population of colony synbods as
escorts—nineteen of them since Bobbi Lava shot one. And it looks like all of
them are coming right here.” He pointed to the floor of the fab facility as he
said the last part.

Sid leaned forward to get a better view of the procession,
and Criss helped by zooming in on the scene.

Larry strode in the center of the synbod formation as they
made their way down Civic Avenue. He wore a mobile carry-pack on his back—the one
that originally had a Marcus-installed kill chip. It now held the fist-sized
crystal that was Ruga.

Three Reds surrounded Larry. An arm’s length in each
direction and matching Larry’s pace, their triangular formation provided a defensive
screen for the crystal. Twenty steps ahead of them marched a wedge of five
synbods, their intimidating behavior ensuring that the empty streets remained
so. The last ten synthetic humanoids hovered in a loose circle much farther out,
searching for anything that even hinted at threat or danger.

As Larry approached the entrance to the tech center, the
synbods that had been holding the outer perimeter shifted inward. Like a gaseous
cloud, they compressed together to pass through the door and then expanded out into
the lobby on the other side.

“It’s show time,” said Sid, noting that four synbods stayed
in the tech center courtyard and four more remained in the lobby, presumably to
guard against threats during the transfer. The rest continued down the hallway.

The door hissed open and Larry, still surrounded by three
Reds, entered the fab facility. The door remained open and Sid glanced out at
the synbods standing guard in the hall.

“I trust all is ready,” said Larry. He walked over to the ICEU,
opened the lid of the transmission module, and inspected the mount bowl. Then,
shifting the carry-pack to the floor, he reached inside, peeled back the connective
mesh, and lifted out a magnificent faceted orb. As it emerged into the light, it
cast luminous sparkles that danced around the room.

Larry set Ruga into the ICEU mount bowl, made a last
inspection, and closed the lid. Turning to the room, he announced, “You may
begin.”

Sid nodded to Criss, who said to the room, “Connection
confirmed. Initiating transfer in three…two…ready…go.”