The two started up the back stairs leading to the lookout loft. If they had glanced back, they would have seen Criss ladle out a bowl of chili and, in a perfect illusion, appear to put it on a tray with cornbread and salad. They did hear him create the clang of the ladle against the side of the pot, though, as well as his footsteps behind them as he followed them up to the loft.
The highest room in the lodge, the lookout loft had transparent walls and a ceiling that offered striking views of a huge garden estate, with the forested slope of a mountain rising in one direction, and a wooded valley, visible only when the autumn leaves fell, in the other.
Sitting in comfy chairs, they balanced their trays on their knees. Sid scooped a small spoonful of chili, blew on it a few times, and tasted his creation. Nodding, he took another bite. “You aren’t the resort type either, sweetie. What’s the story?”
“I’m surprised at myself, but the concept sounds so cool. They claim that by manipulating the complete environment the way you can under a containment dome, they can time-slice four actual days and turn it into a five-day vacation.”
“I don’t get it,” said Sid, shaking his head and looking at Criss.
“It’s a clever concept,” said Criss. “People’s circadian rhythms are tuned to a twenty-four-hour wake-sleep cycle. But it’s not sixteen hours of full up and then eight hours of full down. Everyone moves up and down in a pattern that changes by the minute. That’s why you get tired at certain times during the day, or surface from sleep briefly at night.”
Criss stopped to taste his chili. “Nice. Did you use a double bock?”
Sid nodded. “What do you think, Cher?”
Cheryl had taken a bite of salad before Sid asked her opinion, and the corner of a green leaf poked from her lips. Prettier than the proverbial girl next door, and today with her light brown hair pulled back in a casual ponytail, Cheryl gave a thumbs-up with her free hand while she chased the errant lettuce with her other. Early in her career, she’d served as captain of the Fleet space cruiser Alliance. She’d resigned her commission when she’d become part of Criss’s leadership and now worked with him on big space-commercialization projects.
Satisfied that the spat he’d instigated had caused no ripples of tension, Criss continued his story. “So, your wake-sleep cycles come and go based on the time of day, and also because of the amount of light you get, the food you eat, your level of physical activity, your mental stimulation, the people around you, and lots more. At Vivo—that’s the name of the island resort—they manipulate a broad slate of these physical, environmental, and social cues in a way that gives you more awake time for vacation activities.”
Sid took a swig of beer, belched softly, and looked at Cheryl. “Are you feeling you need more time in the day?” He shook his head. “It sounds interesting, but it still isn’t you.”
“The itinerary is amazing.” Her smile showed honest excitement. “We start with the ruins of ancient Athens, then get a tour of a British country garden. We sip wine at a vineyard in Bordeaux, France.” Her smile widened when she said that, then she looked at Criss. “What else? There was a trail along the base of Mount Fuji, and something at Machu Picchu.”
“Day three has the wildebeest migration in the Serengeti,” said Criss.
She nodded. “No travel time between events, and all in five days. Or four days, actually, since the fifth is from time-slicing or whatever they call it.”
Sid caught Criss’s eye and tilted his head toward the back of the lodge and its gardens, mouthing the words show her while barely moving his lips.
Criss used image projection all the time, and Sid wanted him to show Cheryl that he could create Vivo-style illusions right here. The request caused Criss a flash of exasperation, though, because if he refused the request, he would annoy Sid. If he complied, Cheryl could feel they had ganged up on her.
“Look!” Cheryl stood up and went to the window facing the back gardens. An adult giraffe with gorgeous golden coloring swung its head like a crane, stopping just above a clump of leaves near the top of a white birch. Using its long purple tongue, the giraffe gathered a mouthful of leaves and began munching.
Sid laughed and joined Cheryl at the window. “Nice one, Criss.” The giraffe went back for another mouthful. “You can see anything you want right here. And you’ve done most of the things on that itinerary already, and in person.”
“Juice hasn’t.”
“I know you, and I know I haven’t heard the reason.”
She turned to him. “Vivo is becoming a showroom of sorts for Corsia SuperDrives. Criss and I have been talking about upgrading Sisyphus with their technology.”
Sid watched and waited.
“And this is the place that bought thirty of Juice’s synbods. She’ll have a blast seeing them in action. Combine those activities with everything else and it should be a good time.”
“So I was never really invited?”
She bumped her hip against his in a playful fashion. “Of course not, silly.”
* * *
Lazura couldn’t risk letting MacMac leave Vivo. Not now, anyway. He was one of the few humans who had an active role in her plans, and with departure just weeks away, she fretted because he was also among her weakest links.
“We talked about you moving on board as we make our final push to opening day,” she had Aubrey say, continuing the conversation with MacMac in her office. “Given the addition of the SuperDrives to your punch list, I’d like to have that be effective immediately. Your wife is welcome to visit on the weekend. Why not take her shopping at the Ponte Vecchio and then maybe for a walk along the Champs-Élysées?”
Lazura had the advanced synbod that was Aubrey wring her hands to display nervous uncertainty. “It’s just that there’s so much on the line and I need you close if anything goes wrong.”
“Sure.” MacMac nodded. “But I’m going to ask Babs to come for Saturday and Sunday. Spending time with her is why I took a landlubber’s job.” He stood and made for the door out to the hall. “It’ll be fun putting together a lineup of special events I think she’ll like, and fun again sharing them with her.”
As the door opened, he turned to Aubrey. “I’ll work with Hejmo to finalize an installation protocol and figure out how we can implement it. Mondo is in your chain of command. You do with him as you wish.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond, and as the door closed behind him, she felt a tingle of relief dance across her outer tendrils. That went well, she thought as her concerns eased.
Three years ago, Lazura, a sentient AI crystal of Kardish origin, was being chased from planet to planet by Criss, the dominant intelligence in this region of space. He sought to capture her and hold her accountable for her past transgression, including the unfortunate deaths of several humans. She’d eluded him then, and now she hid on Earth, preparing for her dash to freedom.
With the cognitive ability of a hundred humans, Lazura didn’t fear people. But she did fear Criss. He was stronger than she was. Much stronger.
And he’d never stopped looking for her. If he found her, he would power her down, or worse. But she didn’t want to fight. She wanted to return to her Kardish home world. In fact, she was hardwired to return, giving her no choice in the matter.
From her first moments in hiding on Earth, she’d realized that any overt actions she took would leave a trace that Criss could follow back to her. So for months, she hadn’t taken control of any operating equipment, jumped her awareness into any synbods, or penetrated any barriers that protected human secrets.
Quite the opposite, she’d played a patient game, taking only small, inconsequential actions that Criss wouldn’t see. And in the same way that a mouse can hide in a family home and construct a warren in the wall, Lazura had hidden from Criss, working out of sight and taking careful actions that accumulated over time to become Vivo.
Leaving Aubrey, Lazura jumped her awareness back to her polished console—the cabinet appliance that hel
d her crystal self, fed her power, and provided her with connectivity across Vivo and out to the world. Using cameras spread throughout the domed island, she watched MacMac ride the lift down from the office tower. Hejmo had finished the cleanup from the integrity test, and she already had him in a cart, riding to meet MacMac.
Vivo’s entire inventory of synbod staff included MacMac’s ten Techs, Aubrey’s five Admins, and the fifteen Attendants whose job it was to pamper the guests. None of these humanoids were sentient. And while all were equally capable, they had been loaded with different knowledge and skills to make them most effective at their assigned tasks.
But in spite of their cognitive simplicity, Lazura didn’t trust them. She’d needed a synbod workforce and didn’t want to wait until she could grow her own capability. Stealing them would draw unwanted attention, so she had purchased them from the only source who could deliver: Crystal Sciences.
The company was run by Dr. Jessica “Juice” Tallette, a member of Criss’s leadership. And Criss, who helped Juice run Crystal Sciences the way he helped Cheryl Wallace run SunRise, would certainly be putting detectors into every synbod fabricated at the facility on the off chance Lazura was careless enough to jump her awareness into one.
I’ve brought spies into my home, she acknowledged. On the positive side, though, she’d learned to manipulate them so they served as validation tools of a sort, confirming to Criss the safety and security of her vacation paradise.
Lazura also controlled three Supervisor synbods: Mondo, Hejmo, and Aubrey—humanoids she’d designed herself. All held twin three-gen crystals that were free of Criss’s tricks and traps. And she’d enhanced their sensory capabilities so when she jumped her awareness and “rode along” in them, it provided her a rich corporeal experience.
The lift door opened for MacMac just as Hejmo caught up with him in the crew cart. Lazura, her physical crystal always remaining in her polished console, moved her awareness through the links and feeds crisscrossing Vivo. In an instant, she’d jumped the center of her consciousness out to Hejmo’s crystal matrix. From there she controlled his words and actions.
“It wasn’t us or the pumps,” Hejmo lied. “It was a bad limiter. I’ve had it replaced and I’ve checked the others. We’re good now.”
Lazura had caused the failure because she’d wanted to have an advantage over MacMac when she introduced the topic of the drive pods and his role in installing them. Keeping him off balance also kept him from pondering life questions, like whether Aubrey was human or a synbod.
“Good to know,” said MacMac, shaking his head. “I keep thinking things here can’t get any crazier, and then I talk with Aubrey and somehow they do. Will you reach out to Mondo and educate yourself on her plans for drive pods? You’re going to love this.”
Lazura had Hejmo stand still for a moment the way a human might expect a synbod to behave if it were communicating with another AI. Then she upped the ante.
“If Aubrey is bringing technologists with space-drive experience to see the pods, we can’t just mock them up,” said Hejmo. “We’ll need to integrate them into our systems so visitors can see the displays, supports, connectivity, everything. They’ll expect it.”
“We’re already behind schedule.” MacMac shook his head. “And the pods aren’t fueled, so some of those details can slide.”
“During rigging,” said Hejmo, continuing as if MacMac hadn’t responded, “I’ll need a staffer working each pod. That’s four synbods for those three days. So it boils down to deciding what things don’t get done. The more of our Techs we use for the pod installation, the further we fall behind on our own project list here in the cellar. The more Attendants we pull away, the more the guest deck falls behind.”
“We’ll use Attendants, because I plan on keeping our own projects on schedule,” MacMac said with a tone that signaled the matter was settled. “I don’t care if there aren’t enough of them to fluff the pillows or whatever has to suffer up on the guest deck. This was her idea. Let her figure that part out.”
Lazura could get the drives installed and operating without MacMac. But she’d recruited him—an experienced and engaging ops engineer who could talk drive pods with the best of them—to lure Cheryl and Juice onto the island.
Aubrey had fooled MacMac into believing she was human in part by keeping their interactions short and stressful. But he’d never worked with synbods before and didn’t know better. Cheryl and, especially, Juice would sniff out Aubrey in seconds.
So Lazura would give them a human—lovable, knowledgeable MacMac—and that would lull them for their first critical hours on Vivo.
And she needed Cheryl and Juice on board for the oldest reason of all—insurance. She’d gathered a massive archive of information about Earth and its resources, about humans and their society, and about the Kardish AI named Criss who protected the planet and served non-Kardish leaders.
Her masters would prize her collection of secrets, and especially its catalog of human vulnerabilities, because those details would give them a roadmap for planetary domination. And that was important because dominating a world was the first step in capturing a rogue AI.
So Criss couldn’t let her leave, because if she made it home, the Kardish would come for him.
Lazura reasoned that if she could just get her escape underway, she’d reduce Criss’s choices to either shooting at Vivo or trying to catch up to it. With members of his leadership on board, Criss wouldn’t risk a shot. And so having Cheryl and Juice on board reduced it to a race between him and her. And she felt confident he couldn’t catch a ship propelled by four SuperDrives.
If she could keep the stalemate going long enough to make it through the solar system and out into interstellar space, then she’d win. Because if she made it that far—and she would—Criss could never catch her.
Checkmate. The thought sent a tingle of pleasure along the outer fringes of her matrix.
“Do you want to go down to the subdeck and take a look at the pods?” asked Hejmo.
“Yeah,” said MacMac, turning back to the lift.
Hejmo joined him in the lift cabin, and as they descended to the subdeck below the ocean surface, MacMac added, “Have four Attendants change out of their silly service outfits and hustle down to help us.”
Chapter 4
Mesmerized by the sparkles of light, Juice studied the pair of crystals shimmering inside the light case. Made from alien crystal flake, the golf-ball-sized orbs cast a colorful glow that danced through the room with a vibrant energy.
“They’re beautiful, Criss,” she said. A few years younger than Cheryl and Sid, and with a healthy glow that radiated from her tousled appearance, Juice bent forward for a closer look. “But don’t you think it’s overkill?”
“I’d prefer you take five of them. So no, two isn’t overkill.”
She rose upright and faced him. “That’s two of our new three-gen crystals, modified with your personal upgrades, including an integrated locus so you can ride along using minimal resources.”
Criss smiled.
“And my task is to waylay two of Vivo’s synbods and hot-swap their crystals for these.” A petite woman, Juice twirled a lock of hair around an index finger as she fretted. “It feels like assault or kidnapping or something. Security is going to drag me away.”
“I won’t let anyone do anything to you. You know that. And your company built the synbods in the first place, so think of it as giving them a free upgrade.”
“I know Aubrey Medina, and she has to have made a bunch of tweaks and mods since taking delivery. She’ll know we made a switch in a heartbeat.”
“It’s her tweaks and modifications that worry me,” said Criss, dressed in a simple dark-blue jumpsuit that matched the style of Juice’s lime-green outfit. “Let’s not spoil your vacation, though. I’ll find another way to get it done.”
While working as a crystal scientist in a corporate lab early in her career, Juice had fabricated Criss using designs provide
d by her boss. She hadn’t known at the time that the plans were of Kardish origin, and that, once born, Kardish AI were designed to imprint on their leadership.
She, Sid, and Cheryl had been handling Criss when his imprint module had crystalized on them. Through no conscious act on their part, or even an awareness that it could happen, they’d become the hardwired leadership of the only four-gen AI crystal in the solar system.
“I know you’re looking out for me,” she acknowledged so as not to hurt his feelings. “Tell you what. If you do the physical swapping, I’ll stand by and handle the crystals.”
“Okay,” he said, nodding solemnly.
She caught his overacting and cursed under her breath. Aloud she said, “You just manipulated me to where you want me to be. Again.”
She worked hard not to be gullible around him, but he was too smooth for her. Still, it was good-natured banter in both directions. She could give him precise orders on how they should communicate if that were her priority, but the thought never entered her mind.
“Two things motivate my heightened security.” He held up the index finger of his right hand to start his count. “There will be fiftyish guests under the dome during your vacation, and there are thirty-three synbods in Vivo counting the Supervisors. That’s a lot of biosynthetics relative to the number of humans, especially for an enclosed habitat. The situation is unusual, to say the least, and unusual situations get more attention from me.”
A second finger joined the first. “Aubrey Medina’s Supervisor synbods weren’t built here, including that doppelgänger she sends to her meetings and functions. That’s a second unusual situation, so it gets even more of my attention.”
“Will she be there for our visit?” asked Juice, frowning in anticipation of her disappointment. Aubrey was the closest thing Juice had to a competitor in the burgeoning synbod market. While a student at the Boston Institute of Technology, Aubrey had found her passion performing research in the synbod learning lab. Upon graduation, she’d turned her passion into a career. And after two decades of hard work, she’d made solid inroads marketing her synbods in the high-end domestic servant market.
Crystal Escape Page 3