Crystal Conquest

by Doug J. Cooper

  “You can have these,” said Sid.

  “Hey, I need my carryall too.”

  Sid walked toward the door, and the synbod stepped back into the hall. Sid turned in the doorway and looked Lenny in the eyes. He held his gaze for a long moment. “Lenny, do you have any doubt I’m in control right now?”

  Lenny glowered and remained mute.

  “If you try to escape, not only will you fail, but you’ll damage this beautiful room. That will make me seriously angry. You don’t want me pissed off at you, do you?”

  Lenny shuffled his feet, pointed to his left, and said, “This way to the bathroom?”

  Sid stared at him silently for a few moments more and stepped into the hallway. The door hissed shut behind him.

  Crispin set the carryall on the floor near the wall. “Why am I not surprised this keeps evolving along a pathway different from what my prediction analysis had forecast?” said Criss.

  “Are you having doubts about Lenny and his capabilities?”

  “More that I’m having doubts that Lenny will cooperate with Juice in the foreseeable future. I now believe he’s transitioned from the mindset of being on a treasure hunt for a mysterious artificial intelligence to one of anger, lashing out, revenge, and all the other things that repressed testosterone can foster when a young male is frustrated in his desires.”

  “Should we take him to that ravine you picked out?”

  “That’s something you’d have to do on your own at this point. He may calm down over time. I haven’t given up hope. But I don’t see him as a constructive partner working with Juice in his current state of mind.”

  Crispin tilted his head ever so slightly.

  “Juice has arrived,” Sid heard in his ear.

  * * *

  Juice looked up from her com as her car emerged from the wooded drive and into the expansive clearing. Just a twenty-minute ride north of Crystal Research, she came to the lodge far more often than Sid or Cheryl.

  In fact, she came up three or four times a week because it was her favorite place to exercise. When on a run, she stuck to the predictable smoothness of finished streets. With little traffic and a choice of routes that either climbed up into the mountains or followed along the rolling foothills, she viewed the lodge locale as a runner’s paradise.

  Sid and Cheryl visited less frequently and tended to stay longer, often hanging around for several days at a time to relax and recharge their emotional stores before heading off on their next adventure.

  “Good afternoon, young lady,” she heard in her ear as the car drove past the pond in front of the lodge. “And how are you today?”

  Her heart quickened at the sound of his voice. She scanned her surroundings and spied Sid and Crispin standing in front of the lodge’s left wing. “I’m doing fine,” she said out loud. “And how are you, young man?”

  Her car stopped in front of them, and she hopped out and gave Crispin a hug.

  “I’ll be damned,” said Sid. “Do you and droid-boy got a thing going on?”

  Juice reddened ever so slightly. “No.” She tried not to sound defensive. “But he’s carrying my crystal inside him.” She let go of Crispin and looked at Sid. Tapping Crispin’s chest, she continued. “There’s two years of my life right here. Haven’t you ever heard of a labor of love?” She twirled so her back was to Sid and gave Criss a wink.

  Juice had been honest with herself from the start about her attraction to Criss in his new physical form. People love their pets, she told herself. And they often show more affection to them than they do their own family. As long as she thought of it in that context, she didn’t see anything wrong with her growing fondness for him.

  “So,” she said, anxious to change the subject. “I’m excited to see it. Thanks for waiting for me.”

  “Off we go,” said Criss as Crispin started walking across the lawn and toward the forest.

  Sid and Juice followed close behind. They’d progressed halfway to the tree line when Sid stopped and turned back to study the lodge. “Are you sure Lenny can’t see?”

  “His windows look out on the other side,” said Criss. “And he’s busy tampering with the image projection system to see if there’s some way he can gain an advantage.”

  “If he breaks it, I swear I’ll bop that kid on the head.”

  They finished their trek across the landscaped grounds, and Crispin led them up a trailhead straight into the woods. After a few dozen paces, he took a sharp left and led them along a lightly traveled path that shadowed the edge of the lodge grounds while remaining under the shelter of the lush forest canopy.

  Juice brought up the rear, enjoying this intimate experience with nature. I need to get off the road more, she thought as she admired the different colors and textures of moss gracing a rock face jutting up from the ground. Thinking aloud, she said, “You can’t have landed in the woods.”

  “No,” said Criss to both of them. “I don’t like coincidences, and Lenny showing up out of the blue definitely qualifies. I’m taking extra precautions for a few days while I search for other threats.” He didn’t mention the probe-sighting anomalies, and Sid remained silent on the subject as well.

  They walked for a bit, and Juice pointed back toward the lodge grounds just visible from the path. “I love that weeping willow. The drooping branches remind me of an old-timey lace dress.”

  Crispin turned as she spoke and began picking his way off path and toward the huge tree with its graceful, leaf-covered branches draped to the ground. Set out on the lawn, the majestic growth stood as a feature specimen of the lodge landscaping.

  Two huge pine trees at the edge of the forest had branches that hung out and touched those of the willow. Criss led them out of the woods, under the pine branches, and into the shelter of the willow, ensuring they were never visible to the open sky.

  “This is quite the adventure,” said Juice, now attentive to the intrigue.

  “No worries,” said Criss. They stepped out from under the willow, moving in the direction that returned them to the lodge. “We’re here.”

  Juice looked up at the open sky. “Somehow it’s different from what I remember.”

  Crispin reached up, stood on his toes, and rapped his knuckles into the sky. They all heard a dull clang with each swing of his wrist. Sid, seeing this, stretched up and felt with his fingertips. Juice saw his fingers flex, and he too banged on the bottom of the scout ship.

  She raised her arm up and, when she felt nothing, jumped while stretching as far up as she could reach. In spite of her efforts, her hand moved through empty air. Crispin, standing behind her, grasped her around the waist and lifted her as if she were a dancer in a ballet.

  She whooped with glee as she rose from the ground and probed tentatively for the outer hull of the scout. When she located a solid surface, she also pounded her hand on the bottom, happy to be part of the ritual.

  Crispin set her down and Sid said, “If the scout’s cloak lets us see up through it into the sky, can’t stuff look down and see us standing here?”

  Juice walked back to the willow tree as Criss answered, “The new cloak is calibrated to shield us as well. We’re invisible to observation from above.” He pointed at the lodge. “And from the side, as long as we stay within the cloak’s perimeter.”

  While the two talked, Juice studied the droopy branches of the willow and saw several bent from their natural pattern. She assumed this marked the outer edge of the scout ship. Though it had been two years since she’d ridden in it on her one extraterrestrial adventure, she had a good mental picture of its size. She turned on her heels and started walking toward the lodge, taking measured strides and counting in her head.

  She stopped and pointed straight up. “Hatch,” she said.

  “Not bad at all, young lady,” Criss said in her ear.

  Crispin walked four steps away from her and pointed. “Here.” He looked up, appearing to study something Juice couldn’t see. “Ready for a tour?” With a soft me
chanical sigh, the hatch slid inside the scout and a stepladder extended down.

  “Me first,” she said, scurrying up the ladder.

  When they were all on board, Juice again took up the rear as they toured the ship. The basic layout was as she remembered—a command bridge, crew cabins, a combination exercise and community room, a food service nook, and a tech shop. Criss talked as they walked, telling them about upgrades and improvements he’d made from stem to stern.

  “Most of the improvements are to subsystems, and we can’t see them on a walking tour.” Crispin led them from the tech shop over to the community room. “The cloak is an example of a subsystem upgrade. I put significant resources into designing and testing a cloak that, when engaged, makes this ship undetectable to all current and emerging technologies.”

  They left the community room and started forward. Juice glanced at Crispin’s backside and a thought flashed. When you put your mind to it, you can indeed design perfection.

  As she saw more of the interior, her impression was that Criss had transformed the scout from the stark utilitarian military vessel she knew to something closer to a high-end vacation ship. The wall and floor coverings were inviting rather than institutional. Splashes of color here and there softened the ambiance. The food service unit offered a huge selection that would satisfy any craving. And the chairs looked comfortable.

  Crispin led them past the crew cabins on their way to the command bridge. Juice stopped and reached for a door. “Hey, this is my old room. I’ll bet it’s a palace now.”

  She gasped when the door hissed open. The blood drained from her face, and her knees went weak. Her mind, overwhelmed by fear, shut down. Leaning back against the wall, she slumped into a crouch. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she pulled herself into a tight ball.

  * * *

  Sid stayed back as Crispin crouched down, put his arm around Juice, and whispered to her. He continued with his reassuring words as he helped her to her feet and, supporting her with an arm around her waist, led her to the community room.

  Sid stood aside to let them pass, then walked to the door and looked in. He felt his own pulse quicken as he absorbed the sight. The two crew cabins on this side of the hall had been combined into a single large compartment. The beds, sinks, closets, and everything else that wasn’t floor, outer walls, or ceiling were gone.

  But the room wasn’t empty. Quite the opposite, the space was now consumed with a frightening contraption, and the oily smell of its various mechanisms invaded Sid’s nose as he studied it. The machine was really two identical units—deployment systems of a sort—that started from the far ends of the enlarged room and slanted down and in toward the center, converging on what appeared to be an access hatch in the floor that led below deck.

  The payload sitting on each of the twin units grabbed Sid’s attention and no doubt was what had caused Juice to react with distress. Resting on each raceway, poised for delivery, were Kardish drones. A bit longer than Sid was tall, he recalled the swarms of these weaponized death machines attacking them in coordinated aerobatic maneuvers as they’d fought to escape the Kardish vessel.

  That drone battle stood out in Sid’s mind as one of the most intense field actions he’d ever experienced, and that was from the perspective of someone who’d spent a decade as a covert warrior for the Union of Nations. Until that episode, Juice had lived in a sheltered world as a lab scientist. He could only imagine how the trauma of combat haunted her today.

  “Why did you let her see this?” asked Sid, the irritation evident in his voice. After they’d returned to Earth, he’d learned that Criss had “appropriated” forty drones from the Kardish vessel before they’d destroyed it. He’d kept them hidden for weeks before he confessed his actions, explaining that his motive was to have options if the need arose. Apparently, that time had come.

  “She’s doing fine now,” Criss said in his ear. “She’s with Crispin in the community room. With his reassurance and support, she’s regaining her emotional equilibrium.”

  “Not to change subjects when we have this to discuss”—Sid waved an arm at the mechanical contrivance—“but I’m more than uncomfortable with the game you’re playing with her heart and mind.”

  “It’s Crispin who’s captured her romantic interest,” said Criss. “I had him created to match my projected image, and she sees him as a physical embodiment of me. I had forecast this as a plausible outcome, but it wasn’t my motivation. Our intimacy goes back to my birth. She shares her innermost thoughts, hopes, and dreams with me, and I support her emotionally and boost her confidence as she faces the challenges in her life.”

  As Criss spoke, Sid walked to the raised end of the delivery ramp near the wall, peeked up inside a large rectangular box, and saw another drone positioned to drop in place after the one on the ramp had deployed. He stepped back and ran his eyes up and down the box, judging its size.

  “So we have one on the ramp and four more in the box?”

  “Yes,” said Criss, “ten in total,” referring to the matching unit with five more drones that started from the other side of the compartment.

  Bouncing between topics as he walked across the room, Sid said, “So you knew she might become emotionally invested in Crispin.” He looked up into the box casing at the top of the second ramp, confirming it, too, held more drones at the ready.

  “I depend on Juice for maintenance issues in my bunker. I take comfort in knowing my continued existence is now a higher priority in her mindset.”

  “That’s pretty much the definition of manipulation.” As he said this, Sid felt his temper flare. He faced the middle of the room and said in a terse voice, “Project yourself. Now.”

  The familiar image of Criss appeared in front of him. Sid glared at the image.

  “If she gets hurt from this, I’ll personally connect a pleasure feed to your housing and hurt you back. However much suffering she experiences from your game, you’ll feel that pain times a thousand.”

  Sid hadn’t a clue how to build a pleasure feed or how to use it as a torture device, and he was confident Criss knew this. His threat was an impulsive response to the circumstances. But it did underscore his protectiveness of Juice and his concern over the awkward budding romance.

  Criss tilted his head forward and eyed the ground, and Sid recognized it as his look of contrition. He wasn’t fooled, but he felt the need to soften his message. “Human relationships are complicated, Criss. I suggest you take some time and examine the billions of ways this Crispin and Juice thing could go wrong.”

  As he said the words, Sid suddenly wondered who, between Juice and Criss, was the true innocent. His thoughts bounced again. “Does Cheryl have the hots for you too?”

  “Cheryl has never met Crispin, and beyond that, my relationship with each member of my leadership is private. You know I don’t share or discuss personal matters with any of you. I’ve shared the outlines of my relationship with Juice to explain what you’ve recently observed.”

  Sid stood right next to one of the drones, stretched his arms out wide, and confirmed it was a little longer than he could reach. Squatting, he looked at it from different angles. “Do these still have a three-gen inside?” He was referring to the third generation AI crystals manufactured in the years before the Kardish made their move to kidnap Criss, who was the lone prototype of a forthcoming line of four-gen crystals.

  Each three-gen from that era possessed intellectual capabilities similar to Juice’s new crystal inside Crispin. The drone crystals were trained for death and destruction, however, while the crystal in Crispin was trained to operate the synbod in a human-like fashion if Criss became distracted with pressing issues.

  “They do,” said Criss. “I’ve retrained them, though. Their focus remains on battle, but they are now responsive to human direction.”

  “And your instructions, of course.”

  “Yes, and mine as well.”

  Sid squatted down to examine the access hatch in the
center. As he ran his fingers around the edge of the smooth seam, he said, “So a drone slides down the ramp and through this? Can this deploy fast enough to launch an attack?”

  “This isn’t an attack system. Think more like planting seeds. You’ll guide the scout into the cavern of an asteroid and, after looking inside, if you believe it will make a suitable drone staging site, then this unit will eject a few drones to leave behind. While you travel to the next site, I’ll run tests from here to further qualify the cavern as a possible location for the building of a full-fledged attack base.”

  Like a dog with a bone, Sid wouldn’t drop the other topic. “So how would you describe your relationship with Cheryl without violating her confidence?”

  Sid thought he heard Criss sigh and decided it was his imagination. “Cheryl views me as a tool vital to her work. She chats with me on occasion but treats me like a colleague. She doesn’t share her thoughts and secrets. Most of our recent interactions relate to the defense array project. You’ll have to ask her if you want more detail than that.”

  Chapter 15

  The king sat in his private quarters, feeling both hopeless and helpless. I’m too old for this, he thought as he reviewed the discouraging reports.

  He’d left his younger son behind to watch over the realm while he led the charge to avenge the death of his older son—the idiot who, as a teenager, had stolen the royal flagship to stage a coup against his own father, and ended up dying at the hands of a simple people living on planet Earth. “They did me a favor,” he said to the empty room between sips from his cup.

  The reports he’d received from his royal council back home detailed the considerable attention the young prince paid to his dalliances and debauchery, and also the long list of the affairs of state he habitually ignored—duties vital to governing the people and retaining power.

  As the distance between his vessel and the Kardish world grew larger, communication became slower and more cumbersome. It had reached the point where all he could do was watch, drink, and despair.