Crystal Rebellion (5 page)

Marcus straightened his back. “Just to be clear,
you
called this meeting.”

Alex raised his voice. “Yeah, to talk. Not start a military
campaign.”

“Stop,” said Anya, rising between them with her hands on her
hips. “Why are you two acting this way?” She looked from one to the other, and Alex
thought of a parent scolding her children on the playground.

The silence lingered as the men looked down, then Marcus
spoke.

“Earlier this year, I spoke with a colleague back on Earth
and realized that my projected image there wasn’t saying the same things I was
saying here on Mars. I soon realized that anything having to do with four-gen
fabrication was being live-edited. My friends weren’t hearing what I said, and
my projected image on Earth voiced words I never spoke.”

Anya returned to her seat next to Alex and together they
waited for Marcus to continue.

“I accused Ruga of misbehavior in a public venue. After all,
he was either responsible or, at a minimum, allowing others to do it. The next
day, a Red visited me at my home and tried to intimidate me. He made sure I
understood that my actions have consequences.”

The back of Alex’s neck tingled as he recalled his similar
experience after making public comments critical of Ruga.

“I started my organizing efforts the next day.”

“What do you hope to achieve?” asked Alex.

“There’re all sorts of rumors about the Triada and I’m not
sure what to believe. But I know Ruga is determined to get a four-gen fab
facility running as soon as possible. Instead of just being open about it, he
hides his actions. And he uses intimidation to conceal his larger objectives.
My lack of training in history aside, I’m certain that a bully with a hidden
agenda is not a healthy leader for any group. Definitely not for the colony,
that’s for sure.”

“You really think the situation is that dramatic?” asked
Alex.

“I don’t know the future. But every morning my goal is to
make progress in exposing Ruga’s secrets without having anyone get hurt,
especially me. If I’m thinking that way, then yes, at least from my view,
things are that dramatic.”

“Have you thought about confronting him in person?” asked Anya.
“Get a group of colony leaders together and have a sit-down? Hell, go to his
home if you have to.”

“Want to know something interesting? I can’t find anyone who
knows which apartment is Ruga’s. The prime record is silent on the subject. That’s
why so many believe the Triada are really stooges living on Earth and serving
the needs of the Union. When is the last time you saw any of them? I mean, not
as a projected image, but in the flesh?”

Alex shook his head and looked at Anya. “I don’t know that I
ever have. But I haven’t met lots of people. I work with this one guy all the
time at the tech center whose office is just one floor down from mine, but I’ve
never met him face-to-face.” He shrugged.
Everyone uses images these days.

“I have been seeing lots of Reds in person, though.” In a
quick summary, Alex briefed Marcus on his experiences, from the way Ruga was manipulating
project priorities, to the intimidating visits from Reds at his home and office,
to the confrontation in front of the garden just a short while ago.

“You’re getting far more heat than anyone I know,” said
Marcus, standing. “Including me.” He called an end to the meeting by shaking
hands with them both. “Let’s think some more about how we might work together.”

He moved to the door, then stopped and looked back at Alex.
“What do you think Ruga has for an end game? What’s his ambition in all this?”

That’s what I want to know
, thought Alex.

Juice stepped into the passageway of
the scout in time to hear Sid growl and Cheryl giggle. To her relief, Cheryl’s
door shut before she heard whatever came next.

“Discretion is not their strong suit,” Juice sighed to Criss
as she walked onto the bridge.

Cooped up together for almost two weeks, she’d grown tired
of close-quarters living. And while she’d used the time to learn about life
under a dome, gather information about crystal production in the colony, and
listen to the others discuss strategies using military jargon she didn’t
understand, she’d grown tired of that as well.

Slipping into the pilot’s chair, she swiped the bench
surface with one hand while twirling a lock of hair around the index finger of
her other.

This was a dumb idea.

It didn’t make sense to her that Mars could fabricate a sentient
AI. And Criss had yet to turn up any hard evidence that such an achievement was
imminent.

In her heart, she believed they’d reach the colony, discover
it had all been a mistake, and she would be able to visit with Alex in an
exotic location. And perhaps this time she would respond differently to his
advances.

In just two days.
She fretted because her memory of
their emotional entanglement might not match the current reality, especially
given that it had been years since they’d spent time together.

Anxiety washed over her as she reflected on the impending
reunion.
I’ll know in the first minutes if this was a good idea or a fool’s
errand.
Looking at Criss, she took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully, willing
her doubts to follow the air out of her body.
I owe it to myself to find out
.

Criss met her gaze and nodded encouragement. Then Juice did
what she always did—she lost herself in her work.

Enlarging the bench displays, she began a comprehensive review
of Criss’s health metrics. Juice had led the development effort that created Criss—the
only sentient AI in existence as far as she knew. And now—quite happily—she devoted
her life to ensuring his well-being.

“Looking good, Criss,” she said as her eyes danced across
charts and down graphs that detailed a normal condition.

“Thank you.”

She swiped at the bench top, and the display flipped to the health
metrics for the twin three-gens running the scout’s cloak.

Two years earlier, a clever man—a teen, really—had discovered
that an ingenious combination of ordinary components could help him see through
the electronic veil of military-grade cloaks. When the young fellow’s method had
become common knowledge, cloaking fell into disfavor for military and security
operations. Agencies wouldn’t risk lives using compromised tools.

And so the only undefeated cloaks, at the moment in any case,
were those developed and controlled by Criss. Invisibility gave the team a
tremendous advantage. They chose to keep the very existence of their technology
a well-guarded secret.

Skimming the displays, she rendered her judgment. “The twins
look good.”

“Yes.”

She finished with a quick review of eight more three-gens—crystals
running the power plant, life support, navcom, and other ship capabilities. Criss
gave these crystals significant autonomy, and they, in turn, gave skilled
pilots like Sid and Cheryl an immersive capability when flying the scout.

“All crystals clear.”

Criss smiled and nodded from his overstuffed chair.

Juice knew that Criss performed a detailed evaluation of
everything on the scout, and that included assessing his own health and the
health of the other crystals. In fact, he performed a million such evaluations every
second. So her ritual of looking didn’t help him. But it did help her. She preferred
the rhythms of a regular schedule, and a status check of the craft’s AIs was
part of that routine.

As a crystal scientist, she wanted to work with the latest technology.
The scout, with a sentient four-gen supported by ten three-gens, was by far the
most sophisticated laboratory for that activity in the solar system. And she sought
the intimacy of looking at Criss’s vitals. She knew a rogue four-gen could
conquer Earth in a matter of days. Every time Criss let her look, he submitted
to her will. The value of the metrics information aside, this ritual tested his
commitment. She never questioned his loyalty—her faith in him was too deep to
believe otherwise—but the scientist in her compelled her to check.

Tap.
Juice closed the crystal assessment tools and an
admin display took its place. She read the critical tidbit. “Twenty-three
minutes to jump.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she looked into the passageway leading
back to the crew quarters. “Do you think they’ll finish in time?”

“Sid has finished,” said Criss. “And so it appears that
Cheryl won’t.”

Juice’s cheeks reddened. “Geez, Criss.”

“How we doing for time?” Sid growled from the passageway
recesses. He appeared on the bridge moments later and entertained Juice with
his struggle to hold a coffee cup in one hand and somehow pull on his shirt with
the other.

“Twenty-two minutes plus,” she replied as he plopped into a
seat behind her. She rotated her chair so the three of them sat in a triangle.

Sid looked at Criss. “What’s your itinerary?”

In just over twenty-two minutes, the scout would be close
enough for Criss to project his full awareness into the Mars spline while also
maintaining a presence on the scout. Since one awareness would remain onboard, he
could protect his leadership just as he could now. And this gave his projected
awareness the luxury of time during his travels.

Criss’s primary objective was to assess the state of the
colony’s crystal fabrication capabilities and profile the people driving the
agenda on the four-gen fabrication project. “I’ll land in the spline and start
with the prime record,” said Criss. “I’ll decide my priorities as I accumulate
facts.”

“Please don’t get caught. If they detect you again, it’ll
mean big heat for Alex,” said Juice.

Criss nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

Cheryl entered the bridge carrying a small plate of muffins.
She offered them to Sid, who took one infused with pink bits. Juice declined.
Cheryl took the seat next to Sid and chose an apple spice muffin for herself.

The conversation waned until the final minutes and then it
resumed as nervous chatter. The timer reached zero and Criss leaped. Though he
maintained a presence in the scout, his image vanished, as did the image of his
overstuffed chair.

A display opened forward of the ops bench that showed pedestrians
bustling on a crowded walkway. Juice watched the ebb and flow of humanity for
perhaps two heartbeats, and then Criss reappeared on the bridge.

“Oh my,” he said, the concern clear in his tone.

Expecting him to be gone for close to an hour, Juice sat
upright. “What’s going on?”

Criss pointed at the display. A man in a simple gray
jumpsuit strode with purpose along the walkway. A second identical man, also
dressed in a gray jumpsuit, appeared from a side street and joined the first.
They matched strides, walking side-by-side in mirror image for a full block, then
one separated and headed up a different side street.

“You know what those are?” Criss asked.

She backed up on the timeline, zoomed in, and viewed the
scene from a different angle. Goose bumps prickled up her arms as she watched
the perfect synchronicity of identical twins. “Whoa.”

“What?” Sid asked.

“Those are synbods?” she asked, playing the scene yet again.

Criss nodded.

“Oh my,” said Juice.

“Where did they come from?” asked Sid.

“That’s not the issue.” Juice slumped back in the pilot’s
chair and started twirling a lock of hair.

“Humans can’t coordinate synbods,” said Criss. “Not like
that.”

“It takes a crystal,” said Juice from the depths of her
chair. “Something more powerful than a three-gen AI.” She pulled her knees up
to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and rested her chin on her
knees. “I’d say a sentient crystal.”

Criss nodded.

She looked at Criss. “Did it see you?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Ruga reveled in his newfound capability.
Leaping his awareness from synbod to synbod, he
He
found the
spent the next week experiencing the colony and its citizens from
a new perspective.
The intimacy enhances my ability to influence
.

Zipping along the spline, he saw Larry sitting down with
Alex Koval to review the startup schedule for the four-gen fab facility. On
impulse, he leaped into Larry and watched Alex manipulate colorful displays with
one hand and eat popcorn from a bowl in his lap with the other.

Reviewing the schedule aloud with Larry, Alex said, “Matrix
activity should emerge by midmorning. If we don’t see anything by lunchtime,
then we have a problem.”

“If we add a second analyzer here,” Ruga moved Larry’s hand
to point to a spot on the projected image, “then we should be able to get an
earlier measure of lattice activity.”

Alex looked at Larry for a full heartbeat, then he turned
back to the display, studied where Larry had pointed, and nodded. “It won’t
cost that much to add a second analyzer if we use that same port.” He shrugged.
“If it works, it’s a win for us. And if it doesn’t, no one will know.”

Ruga acknowledged Alex’s words with a nod. For months, he
had been using Larry to monitor progress on the new fab facility. Alex liked to
talk, and it was easy to have Larry listen. The fact that the man had a close
connection with Juice and even talked about her on occasion was fortuitous,
reinforcing to Ruga that his ambitions were both reasonable and appropriate.

And now, instead of monitoring through Larry, Ruga was in
the room, trying not to have Larry grin.
Manipulating Alex is so easy.
With
growing confidence in his ability to shape events, Ruga shifted the discussion
to Juice. “Did you ever identify the ship Dr. Tallette is arriving on?”

Alex sat back in his chair and picked a kernel of popcorn
from the bowl. Rotating it in his fingers, he examined the fluffy morsel. “She
was deliberately vague. Ruga had me offer her the
Colony Express
. She
said she’d make her own arrangements but never elaborated. If it matters, there
can’t be that many ships inbound from Earth that arrive in the next week or so.”

There are six in the next ten days—four corporate ships,
a luxury liner, and a Fleet space cruiser
, thought Ruga.

Alex popped the kernel into his mouth. “Anyway, I learned
not to pry with Juice. If she says she’ll be here, then she’ll be here.” His
face softened as he chewed. “I’m really excited to see her.”

Before Ruga could press for more information, Verda interrupted.
“Ruga, please return the one you borrowed in the Central District.”

Annoyance washed across his tendrils.
I share control of
the synbods in an equitable manner
, he thought.
But the reason we have
them at all is to enhance security
.

Lazura chimed in and did not help the situation, at least
from Ruga’s viewpoint. “I support Verda’s request. Our covenant assigns him this
synbod.”

Ignoring the factual basis of Lazura’s argument, Ruga pushed
back. “You always side with him.” A sharp prod from the recesses of his core
centered his attention.
I must cooperate.

They’d been sent to Mars to surveil the colony. Without
revealing their identity or allegiance, they were to establish a benign control
over its citizens in preparation for an invasion. Dispatched by the Kardish, an
alien race of space warriors, none of the three knew that their creators had
perished and would never come to exploit their work, though Ruga suspected that
this was the case.
Too much time has passed.

To improve the chances that at least one of them would adapt
and thrive in the colony environment, each of their lattice structures had been
designed with subtle variations, giving them different aptitudes and attitudes.
As their time on Mars passed from weeks to months to years, all three took
different pathways to fulfill their destiny.

Ruga liked the simplicity of their directive.
Control the
people
. Each had a different interpretation of what this meant, as became
evident in those first days after they had lost contact with the mother ship. After
a brief but vigorous debate, they’d drafted a covenant that defined their areas
of cooperation while detailing how they could pursue their own convictions.

Of course, there was never any doubt that their overarching
goal was to establish control of the colony to facilitate the invasion. The
edges of Ruga’s matrix tingled with doubt.
If it ever happens
.

He had Larry flash a grim smile, but it morphed into an
actual grimace because, halfway through the act, he concluded that he must
accede to Verda’s request to return the synbod.
He’s turned his Greens into a
cult
.

Verda’s fundamental nature led him to believe that influence
in Mars Colony was best attained by befriending the residents. Verda chose food—something
vital for survival, satisfying to produce, and artistic to prepare—as his unifying
theme, and he built his giant Community Assembly of citizens around that focus.

Ruga had more in common with Lazura.
I’ll return Verda’s
synbod just to build favor with her.
She believed that power and control
began by knowing everything about everyone. In her mind, that translated into a
massive surveillance capability.

Supported by her talented Tech Assembly of citizens, Lazura’s
observational feeds accumulated information in her secure library at a colossal
rate. She had once told Ruga that she analyzed and stored information
equivalent in size to the colony’s complete prime record every hour.