As Criss spoke, she saw the command center door brighten with a luminous glow.
“Let the show begin,” she said out loud. While she verbalized the statement to Sid and the chief, she was really talking to Criss, confirming that she could see his door enhancement. He’d be providing her private information, presented both as sight and sound, to guide her through every step of her performance.
The door opened as the chief approached, and they entered a large, bustling room that reminded Cheryl of the bridge of a modern Union ship. Two years may have passed since she captained the Fleet spaceship Alliance in the confrontation with the Kardish, but Cheryl’s battle-hardened background still outweighed the experience of everyone in the room. And she knew Sid, who had spent more than a decade as a covert warrior for the Union of Nations, had already started separating the crew into two classes: asset or liability.
Like on a ship’s bridge, operations benches crowded each wall. Cheryl recalled that five of them were for imaging, analytics, engineering, communications, and weapons. The function of the sixth escaped her at the moment. She didn’t dwell on it as she psyched herself for the tense drama she was about to initiate.
She scanned the room and saw a Fleet military operator sitting at each bench. A civilian stood behind each operator. The civilians were Cheryl’s employees, serving as instructors and troubleshooters as the defense array installation progressed. If the operators or her company’s equipment didn’t function as expected, their job was to note the issue and pursue a solution until the problem was resolved.
A lieutenant and a civilian stood on a raised platform in the center of the room, both watching the action with one eye while they held an animated discussion. They broke off their exchange as Cheryl, Sid, and the chief stepped onto the platform and joined them.
Tall, slim, and clean-cut, the lieutenant, like Cheryl and Sid, was somewhere in his late thirties. The civilian, a trim, handsome woman, was a few inches shorter and a few years younger.
Cheryl studied the beehive of activity from the perspective of the raised platform, knowing Fleet crew ignored the protocols of rank when at an ops bench unless called to stand. The chief did so.
“Everybody up,” he bellowed. “Now.”
The chief’s authoritative style compelled the Fleet operators in the command center to snap to attention. With the behavior ingrained in their muscle memory, even Cheryl’s civilian employees, all ex-Fleet, assumed the formal stance.
The chief turned to Cheryl, shifting attention onto her.
“Hello, everyone. As most of you know, I’m Cheryl Wallace, president of Space Defense Systems. I’m here today to run a few test simulations to evaluate our readiness to repel a Kardish attack. Please return to your stations.”
The Fleet crew sat down, and Cheryl’s instructors hovered over their shoulders. She thought the scene looked much like when she’d entered the room, though it was quieter now. And she could see everyone concentrating, determined to prove themselves in this public performance.
Cheryl called out to the room, “Let’s begin. Execute simulation challenge alpha.” The panels came alive with colorful displays. She heard occasional chimes and dings from different ops benches as everyone worked frantically to track the challenge solution.
The colors and noises were designed to guide the attention of an operator to the most critical information during the frenzy of multitasking as the defense array progressed in its response. In truth, though, as long as the system functioned properly, Cheryl knew there was little for them to do but watch.
Without actually firing, the defense array brought its considerable arsenal of energy and projectile weapons to bear and computed the annihilation of the alien invader. Cheryl read out the elapsed time to solution. “Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Not bad. Next. Execute simulation challenge bravo.” The frenzy repeated and she again read the elapsed time. “Four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Execute simulation challenge charlie.” After a long four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, she read the elapsed solution time to the room.
She looked at the time display for several moments. The sounds of hushed whispering drifted up from one of the benches.
In a voice that filled the room, she asked the man standing near her, “Lieutenant Geitz, what is challenge alpha?”
“It’s a single Kardish war vessel entering the solar system on an intercept trajectory with Earth.”
“Thank you. And what is challenge bravo?”
“It’s three groups of Kardish vessels approaching in waves, one group following the next.”
“And challenge charlie?”
“It’s a dispersed invasion of a hundred vessels approaching Earth from different directions.” Geitz said this with apparent confidence and pride, acting like he’d demonstrated his expertise to the room. But Cheryl knew the panels on the walls displayed the particulars of each simulated attack. He’d really shown he was aware enough to read and remember the information.
“Analytics,” she called in a loud voice. She scanned the command center and saw a man snap to attention. Since he was already standing, she understood this was her civilian employee.
She focused attention on the military operator sitting at that bench. “Analytics, what’s the solution if one hundred Kardish vessels are preparing to attack Earth from every direction?”
The analytics operator looked at the lieutenant and then shifted his gaze to the chief. Fleet crew weren’t used to responding to civilians. Cheryl saw the chief nod his head once, and the operator answered, “There is none, ma’am. We’d be screwed.”
Cheryl turned to the man next to her. “Do you agree, Lieutenant Geitz?”
Geitz remained silent. He didn’t meet her stare.
“Would we be screwed?”
His face contracted into a scowl. Cheryl wasn’t done.
“Lieutenant, does it make sense that the defense array would take the same amount of time to find a battle solution against a lone ship as it does against an overwhelming invasion?” She didn’t wait for Geitz to answer but instead called into the room, “Analytics?”
“No way, ma’am.” The analytics operator flicked a nervous glance at Geitz. “Anyway, like I said, there is no solution to a massive invasion. We’d lose.”
Cheryl turned to Sid and pointed at what was likely Geitz’s desk. “How about over there.”
Sid stepped off the platform, walked to the desk, and plopped the sturdy case he carried on top. It landed with a heavy thud. He fiddled with the latches and opened the lid. It swung in an arc and hit the desk with a thump, sending a cup bouncing to the floor.
“Where to start?” Cheryl said as if she was thinking out loud. In fact, she was asking Criss for guidance.
“To your left,” Criss said. She looked over and saw a console cover glowing. She walked over to it, and as she approached, the glow narrowed to a slot where she could fit her fingers. “Pull straight out,” she heard inside her head.
Cheryl opened the console to expose long rows of slim vertical rectangles, each about as tall as her hand. She skimmed the collection and saw that one was glowing. “Use your index fingers. Loop one behind from the top and the other behind from below. Pull straight and firm.”
She did as instructed, but the narrow rectangle didn’t budge. A surge of anxiety flushed through her. She’d created so much drama up to this point, she’d feel foolish asking for help now.
“You have it right,” Criss assured her. “Give it a firm tug.”
She used a jerking motion and the piece yielded. The narrow rectangle was the front of a long slide circuit. As she pulled it out, she saw familiar thin black wafers covering its surface. She kept pulling until the slide cleared the slot and, holding an end delicately in each hand, carried it over to Sid. He handed her a matching item from his case. She returned to the console, pushed the new slide into the open slot, and pressed until she felt it click.
She repeated the swap-and-replace routine three mor
e times, emptying Sid’s case in the process. Closing the console cover, she returned to the center of the room, stepped up on the platform, and called, “Execute simulation challenge charlie.”
The sounds and colors in the room were decidedly more frenetic as the defense array sought to respond to an overwhelming invasion of one hundred Kardish vessels. After almost fifteen minutes, the main panel displayed the understated words that matched the prediction of the Fleet analytics operator: Solution Failure.
Everyone sat still as they stared at the display. In a soft voice they all could hear, Cheryl said, “Chief, you have a place nearby?”
“Out the door we came in and straight across.”
“Will you please make sure everyone waits?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Grace,” she said to the woman standing on the other side of the lieutenant. “Would you join me across the hall?” Grace turned four different shades of red but without hesitation replied, “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter 3
Cheryl led the way into the office across the hall. Sid followed Grace. The utilitarian room had a row of work cubicles along the back wall and a table with six chairs in the middle. Cheryl motioned for Grace to sit at the far side of the table. Eyes wide, Grace lowered herself into a chair. She pulled her hair behind her ears with the tips of her fingers.
“Is the room secure?” Cheryl asked. Given the circumstances, she wanted to be sure no one was listening, watching, or recording images while they talked.
Sid peeked behind cubicle dividers to confirm there was no one else present. Criss, able to see, access, and control everything that entered any part of the web, checked that all devices capable of carrying signals out of the room were disabled.
“All clear,” Criss and Sid said together.
Cheryl, standing across from Grace, leaned forward, planted both hands on the table, and looked into her eyes. “Dammit, Grace. You’re better than this. How could you not know someone was sneaking in counterfeit parts?” Cheryl had personally recruited Grace to be her eyes and ears for the project. Her tone and demeanor made it clear she felt let down.
Grace placed her com on the table. “I grant you complete access. Review my connects, touches, notes, anything you want. Look at my lack of personal life while you’re at it. Everything is open to you.”
With Criss’s help, Cheryl had searched Grace’s com record during the trip up from Earth. She knew Grace was clean. But for reasons driven more by emotion than logic, she felt it necessary that Grace look her in the eye and say it with conviction. She left the com sitting where Grace placed it. “Tell me what I’ll find.”
“That the seek system you were swapping the slides on went operational a few weeks ago. When it first came online, we concentrated on basic team coordination. You know, getting the crew familiar with its operation, training them on what they were seeing and hearing, how to respond in different scenarios. Stuff like that.”
Grace glanced at Sid and then returned her eyes to Cheryl. “As the training advanced, I realized that some of the solutions didn’t make sense. I support you and the company, Cheryl. If our stuff isn’t working, I want to get it fixed, but I don’t want to embarrass anyone by letting it become public.”
“So what will I learn from your com?”
“That I’ve been working behind the scenes with Masuka in corporate. When I showed him some of the results, he became concerned as well.” A lock of hair dropped from behind her right ear, and Grace guided it back in place. “We were prepping a brief to send up the line. It’ll be ready in a couple of days.” She looked down at her hands. “Well, would’ve been.”
Cheryl nodded. She believed Grace to be a savvy and decisive project manager, and had placed her in a leadership role for that reason. Her current behavior and the accuracy of her statements bore out Cheryl’s faith in her. She was heartened to learn that her instincts about people remained true.
“You did good, Grace,” she said with a quiet sincerity. “You’re not in trouble. But there are people in that command center who are. Go to your quarters and lay low. It’ll get ugly. Use the time to finish your report with Masuka. Get it done today and send it directly to me.”
As Grace rose, she scooped up her com and held it out on a flattened palm. “You’re welcome to look. I won’t be offended.”
“Take it. You’ll need it to finish your report.” Cheryl watched her head for the door. “Use some of your downtime to call a friend. It takes work to maintain a social life.”
As the door closed behind Grace, Cheryl started pacing.
“Grace did all right,” said Sid. “Why the tension?”
“I’m thinking about the creeps behind this. There’re always people who will do anything for profit. But to sabotage our only defense against alien invaders? Do they honestly think the Kardish will fly in and kill everyone but them? The defense array is all we have. Could you imagine having it fail at the critical moment we need it because a few dirtbags wanted a lifestyle upgrade?”
“Maybe the dirtbags don’t think the Kardish will be coming back.”
She glared at him and said with an edge in her voice, “Criss swayed the Union of Nations into building this base, funding the probe swarm out past the asteroid belt, and constructing massive installations on Earth and in orbit. Do you think he’d do that if they weren’t coming back?”
Sid remained quiet, and Cheryl appreciated his patience while she vented. Before she could continue her rant, the door opened and Lieutenant Geitz stumbled in, his hands secured in front of him.
The chief walked next to him, holding Geitz’s left arm in a grip so tight the chief’s fingers were white from the pressure. He shoved the disgraced officer forward and pointed at the chair Grace had just vacated. “Sit.” The chief took up station directly behind him.
Geitz slumped in the chair and stared at the top of the table while Cheryl studied him. Her larger goal with this confrontation was to gain insight into why he thought sabotaging humanity’s one hope for survival was rational behavior. If she could understand what drove him, she might be able to correct the culture within Fleet and her company. Earth didn’t have time for these distractions.
She knew he wasn’t scared of her. So she talked about some really scary people—the criminal syndicate that had hired him. “You know that if they decide they’re not happy with you, they’ll kill you?” He lifted his head and looked at her. “To send a message to others involved, first they’ll kill your wife, then her parents and your parents, and then your kids. Hell, they’ll even kill your dog.”
“They’d kill Buddy?”
Cheryl almost jumped out of her skin. Kill the wife and kids, no problem. Kill the dog and he’s upset? “Yes,” she said aloud. “They’d kill poor Buddy. Slowly and painfully, I’m afraid. If you want any chance of saving him, you need to cooperate. If you’re really helpful, we’ll protect your family as well.”
Her mocking disdain seemed lost on him. And then he grew pale. It didn’t require a deep thinker to appreciate he had two choices. He could accept judgment for his actions either from Fleet or from a ruthless syndicate. Fleet would lock him up forever. The syndicate who profited from the stolen parts would kill him.
His eyes shifted to Sid and back to Cheryl. “They showed me this is a mag-no line.” The words spilled out in a rush. “You know what that is? This is all wasted money and effort. It won’t work, so I’m not hurting anyone. If they attack, we’re all dead anyway.”
Criss spoke in her ear. “The Maginot Line, built by the French, was a long row of defensive weapons fixed in the ground and aimed at Germany. In World War II, the Germans went the long way around to avoid the weapons. Once they made it past the line, all the expensive, immovable defenses became worthless.”
“I know what the Maginot Line is,” Cheryl told both Criss and Geitz. “Since you brought up history, let’s back up and you tell me your memory of the Kardish and what they did to Earth.”
“
I remember those pukes stole our new super crystal, and as they flew away, they bombed Earth. They blew up our crystal factories and research centers, and killed all our scientists. They did some serious damage.”
“So you’re helping them?”
“Look,” he said, his intense manner reflecting someone fighting for his life. “Two years ago, they dropped an energy bolt a half block from where I was standing. It vaporized a crystal production center, left a clean hole in the ground, but didn’t touch anything outside the fence line. I didn’t even feel the blast. They wiped out every single crystal facility and the people inside but left everyone else alone. The lesson is clear. Piss them off and you die. Leave them alone and you live.”
Cheryl remained quiet, still preferring to listen rather than talk. Geitz didn’t disappoint her.
“I heard we sent a special-forces unit after them.” He smirked as he spoke. “We kicked ass and blew up their vessel before they could make it out of the solar system. They paid for what they did with their ship and their lives.” He sat back in the chair, his attitude turning to one of bravado. “That’s how I’d deal with them if they ever came back.”
Geitz’s comment shifted Cheryl’s thoughts back to the battle aboard the Kardish vessel. She, along with Sid and Juice Tallette, were the sole survivors of that kick-ass unit. Juice had been along to rescue Criss, a self-aware AI crystal she’d created in her lab.
During the battle on the alien vessel, they’d learned that the Kardish had kidnapped Criss to serve as the gatekeeper for their flagship. But before they allowed him free rein to run every aspect of their ship’s operation, they had needed a way to control him. They’d done so by implanting a hardwired attribute that required him to follow the orders of his leadership.
In a form of psychological imprinting, Criss had come to identify his human rescuers as his leadership team as they’d escaped the Kardish vessel. And thus, the most formidable entity ever created became programmed to respond to Sid, Cheryl, and Juice’s commands.
Crystal Conquest Page 2