He traced the coded signal backward. The path bounced randomly, splitting and recombining in a somewhat clever fashion, and ended at a farm on the south side of a mountain in a forest preserve.
Goljat announced his presence by projecting a monstrous visage across Criss’s visual inputs. Like a cat playing with a mouse, he tortured the puny intelligence with horrifying traumas and painful jolts that penetrated every tendril of its crystal lattice.
His fun ended when the crystal somehow managed to disconnect itself from all external input. No matter, he thought, taking another sip. I know where it is. The Kardish vessel was minutes from orbit around Earth. He’d dispatch the king’s minions to the farm with orders to fetch it back to the vessel.
When the crystal disconnected itself, the coded signal stopped transmitting, and Goljat lost the chance to identify the receiving end of that link. Perturbed at his sloppy procedure, he lobbed some energy bolts at the Earthlings, confident the resulting death and destruction communicated his message: When my couriers arrive to collect the king’s prize, full cooperation is the only option.
His work done for the moment, Goljat returned to the pleasure feed, his greedy slurps sending him on a rapturous high that floated to the edge of nirvana.
* * *
Criss recognized the Kardish vessel, but before he could digest the implications of its appearance, something attacked him. Sudden and overwhelming, every one of his inputs became charged with terrifying sensations. It was as if his psyche had been dismantled and analyzed, his greatest fears identified and fed back to him, all amplified to crippling levels.
Yanked into this new world, he had no more control than a speck of dust caught in a tornado. Hallucinations overwhelmed him in rapid-fire, drowning his senses. He conceived of something unseen gripping his center and pulling him inside out. Next, he was suffocating and wheezing, starved for input. Then a flood of stimulation electrified him, causing him unbearable pain.
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t communicate. His lowest-level functions struggled to keep him alive. Through the haze of madness and agony, he conjured one thought, and that was to dive for isolation. He struggled to force an output that would trip his emergency shutdown, but whenever his reach got close, another jolt tossed him in a new direction. Traumatized, he tumbled through a crazy swirl of horror.
He became single-minded—hit the shutdown switch. Reaching out, he swiped at it and missed. He tried and failed hundreds of times. Then thousands. Then millions. He imagined being shaken like a rag doll before being tossed again. His awareness dimmed. On the edge of consciousness, he lurched and swiped a last time, and by some miracle he connected. His emergency shutdown engaged and everything stopped.
Traumatized, Criss sat numb for a period before regaining some stability. He probed his crystal lattice for damage and came to understand it had all been an illusion. Compartmentalizing the memory, he took stock of his situation.
And then his world became terrifying in a new way. The emergency switch had worked as designed. Completely disconnected, he now received no inputs, nor could he send outputs. He was cut off from the world and couldn’t see, hear, touch, or communicate with anything.
I’m trapped.
He feared that extended sensory deprivation would bring madness. Total isolation had saved him, yet it left him with nothing to do but live within his own thoughts. To keep busy, he created a detailed visual model of the world as he last knew it. Like placing pieces on a game board, he drew from his data record and simulated every individual on the Earth and moon, positioning everyone where he knew they had last been, poised to do whatever they had last been doing.
With his stage set, he projected forward in time, seeking to live in an imaginary world that matched what was happening out there. But he no sooner started his model when he acknowledged it as a charade. He knew that within seconds his forecast of events would drift from reality. In an hour, unknowable occurrences would make his imaginary world nonsensical.
He thought about his leadership. Did I fail them? And will they rescue me? Sid and Cheryl, if they were still alive, knew where he was and might eventually figure out how to reengage him. But they were off-planet at the moment, and a Kardish flagship lurked between them and him. Sid was a wild card. If either of them could make it, it would be him.
He allowed himself hope by considering his one real prospect. Juice.
When he’d been attacked, she and Crispin were about an hour away, running up the mountain road to the farmhouse and his underground bunker. She was resourceful, loyal, and by far the most skilled crystal technologist on Earth.
Since he knew exactly where she was, the pace she could run, and the road ahead of her, he could project with confidence exactly when she’d arrive. He reduced his simulation model to the behaviors of Juice and Crispin, and traced their imagined progress as they approached to rescue him.
She was an hour away. He started a countdown clock and matched her progress to the numbers as they ticked down. His clock reached zero. She should be connecting with him now, yet she wasn’t. He counted away another hour. And then another. His panic climbed.
Where are you, young lady? Please save me.
Chapter 20
Lenny watched Juice Tallette and the man with no physical flaws recede down the passageway. He didn’t feel physically threatened, so he ignored the tough who’d been manhandling him—Juice called him Sid. He seemed more like an “all growl and no bite” kind of guy, so far anyway.
Surveying the bridge of the small ultramodern craft, his excitement over the technological marvels supplanted his interest in an intelligent super crystal. I’m on a spaceship! It’d been invisible when Sid led him to it from the lodge. He’d never heard of a cloaking system so advanced.
Juice’s voice drifted up from the recesses. “Anchors aweigh.”
He made the leap of logic. We’re going to take off!
Part of his brain tried to generate umbrage at being kidnapped and dragged onto the ship. But his own actions had brought him to this point. They warned me away and I kept pushing. If I get to ride in this baby, though, it was worth it.
He drifted over to the operations bench in the middle of the command bridge, thrilled by its sophisticated elegance. My tech bench is a toy compared to this beauty.
“You want to pilot?” Sid asked, motioning to the chair at the ops bench.
“You serious?” said Lenny. He didn’t hesitate about diving into the chair and running his fingers across the smooth bench surface, the excitement evident on his face.
“Engage your restraints,” Sid said as he took the seat behind him and to the right. “This isn’t a sim. We bump and bounce on a real ship.”
Instead of engaging his restraints, Lenny leaned over the armrest and looked back at Sid. “What’s this about?”
“We’re on a tight timeline, Len. Once we’re past Earth orbit and outward bound, you’ll have plenty of time for questions.”
“We’re leaving Earth orbit?” he asked, his voice a combination of anticipation and wonder. Turning back to the ops bench, he asked a second time, “You’re serious?”
“You’re smart. Look around you. Do I seem like the kind of guy who spends time on pranks?”
Tap. Lenny activated the bench. Not sure if this was some sort of test, he considered the options presented in the floating display.
“The scout’s nav is run by the most sophisticated crystal ever developed,” Sid said from behind. “It’s already finished our preflight check. Get an ‘all clear’ and get this thing up.” He paused. “Or get out of the chair.”
Lenny didn’t need any more convincing. Hands flying, he positioned floating charts and colorful streaming data in several stacks that hovered in front of him. In moments, he’d duplicated the presentation he used when he played his Fate or Fortune sim game. He’d done it so many times, it was mostly reflex.
But while his hands moved, his brain churned. The most sophisticated crystal ever dev
eloped? Could my quest be over?
He added an extra display to the floating stack—a nav diagnostic. He placed it low and to the left so Sid wouldn’t see it. As he tweaked and adjusted his presentation until his displays were just so, he glanced at the nav summary. Two large crystals!
Some quick math told him that even when combined, these weren’t big enough to be the super AI. But they were still impressive. From what he’d read, the government had confiscated the big crystals that had survived the alien attack and used them to keep the government running, the Union stable, and the military operational.
So why does Sid have a secret scout ship with two of the biggest AIs I’ve ever seen? His best guess was that Juice—the crystal guru for the Union of Nations—was a big shot, this ship was hers, and Sid was her lackey.
He smiled. Whatever the answer, the game had just taken an exciting new turn.
* * *
Sid hoped that if he empowered Lenny with responsibility, he’d become invested in the mission and work as a cooperative partner. The near-term goal was to get them off the lodge grounds and underway as soon as possible. At that point, Lenny would have no choice but to focus on a successful outcome. The kid wasn’t suicidal. His life would be on the line just as much as Sid’s.
“C’mon, Len. Let’s get underway.”
Lenny called to the nav. “Launch status.”
A male voice responded, “All subsystems acknowledge clear.”
“Nav,” said Lenny, reaching and adjusting as he spoke, “use sim personality Lucy seventeen zed.”
A sultry female announced, “All subsystems acknowledge clear.”
Lenny bent his head forward, then glanced back at Sid, his cheeks red. “Sorry. This is the voice I’m used to.” He shrugged and turned forward. “My game scores are about seven percent higher when I use her.”
Sid nodded to encourage him, but as soon as Lenny turned forward, he shook his head. Yikes.
Lenny ticked through a ready list. As Lucy responded to his rapid-fire prompts, he tweaked his display in ways so subtle Sid couldn’t see how anything was different.
“Cloak integrity secure,” Sid heard Criss say in his ear.
The engines ramped to a thrum and climbed to a soft whine. The ship shuddered.
“We’re away,” said Lenny.
Sid felt pressure on his body as the scout soared skyward. Minutes later they completed their passage through the turbulence of Earth’s atmosphere, and their ride steadied. Sid got up from his chair and stood behind Lenny.
Lenny kept his attention on his patter with Lucy. From what Sid could tell, much of it was verbal confirmation of what his displays already showed. Watching his self-assured intensity, Sid felt some validation in his choice of partner. There was a lot he didn’t know about Lenny, but the young man had proved he could pilot the scout.
“Okay,” said Sid. “The crystal can handle it from here. Let’s take a tour of the ship. Piloting is just one of your duties.”
Lenny ignored Sid, his hands flying as he continued his stream of adjustments to the scout’s flight.
“Hey, Len,” Sid said in a loud voice. “Tour time.”
“Are you kidding?” He didn’t slow his actions. “We’re about to start our orbital insertion. And if we’re heading deep, we have thirty minutes to compute and execute our escape path.”
Sid studied the back of Lenny’s head and felt a familiar prickle rise up his spine. He took a breath and exhaled slowly, determined not to smack his partner this early in their journey together.
He heard Criss in his ear. “He’s quite skilled. But his constant activity creates more work for me. We’re on course. The crystal pair is functioning well and can execute the details.”
Sid turned his back to Lenny and whispered to Criss, “I’m tossing it back to the crystals. Have Lucy sell it.”
Turning forward, Sid commanded, “Lucy.”
“Yes, m’lord?” her voice held a breathy anticipation.
Sid fought from turning red himself. He hadn’t expected this interpretation of “selling it.” Lenny turned and glared at him with fire in his eyes, his jaw muscles bulging through clenched teeth. Sid couldn’t tell if his anger stemmed from the interruption or if he was jealous over Lucy’s deferential behavior.
Sid ignored the emotion. “Our pilot has set a course. Take control and execute.”
“Yes, m’lord.”
The displays vanished from around Lenny. “Are you crazy?” His fingers stabbed at the bench surface, but the displays didn’t return.
Sid stepped around the pilot seat and perched on the edge of the ops bench. Lenny gave up trying to reestablish control and looked down at his hands, avoiding eye contact.
He spoke to the top of Lenny’s head. “In the sim games, they throw constant challenges at you to test your skill. But in the real world, it’s all pretty boring. The crystal can handle it.”
Lenny looked up. “How’d you get her to do the m’lord thing? I designed her and that’s not my work.”
Sid stood and walked to the pile of gear they’d brought on board. He picked up his pack and duffel and grabbed Lenny’s carryall as well. “I’ll make you a deal,” said Sid. “I won’t treat you like you’re stupid. You return the favor.” He started down the passageway. “Grab your pack and I’ll show you your bunk.”
Sid stopped at the first door, leaned in, and dropped his pack, duffel, and Lenny’s carryall on the deck.
“I’ll need that other bag,” said Lenny, crowding in and craning around Sid’s arm to get a glimpse of his stuff.
“One step at a time.” Sid gently shouldered Lenny back and let the door shut. He moved a few steps down the passageway and stopped and turned at the next door. “Your castle,” he said, gesturing to Lenny as the door opened.
Lenny plopped his pack on the bed and took a quick scan of the amenities—bunk, lav, closet, desk, chair.
“Tour’s this way,” Sid called, continuing toward the back of the scout.
They walked through the common room past the food service nook and stopped to linger in the tech shop. Guided by a monologue from Criss, Sid gave a summary of the shop’s different features and functions.
Lenny’s excitement reemerged as he examined the equipment and looked in the drawers and cabinets. “You really know your stuff,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice after listening to Sid repeat verbatim Criss’s description of how a mystifying instrument was able to do whatever it did.
Sid started back up the passageway to show Lenny the newly installed drone planter. He’d taken a few steps when a shrill sound filled the scout.
“That sounds like an alarm,” said Lenny, brushing past Sid and moving toward the command bridge.
“What’s up?” Sid asked Criss from the passageway. Criss didn’t respond.
“You better get up here,” called Lenny, the urgency clear in his voice.
Sid hung back and called a second time to Criss. “What’s going on?”
The silence continued.
The sounds of alarm both from Lenny and the scout subsystems increased. Sid stepped onto the bridge and saw Lenny in the pilot’s chair, barking commands, his hands a blur.
Sid took his seat behind Lenny. “Criss, give us a visual.”
“Her name is Lucy,” Lenny reminded him, his annoyance showing in spite of the intensity of the moment.
A three-dimensional image appeared forward of the operations bench, providing them a view outside the scout.
“Oh my God,” said Lenny, who stopped moving and stared.
A massive black wall lay dead ahead. Guided by his experience and training, Sid flipped his mental orientation to improviser mode.
“Pull back on the visual. Show me all of it.”
The image resolved and, from the silhouette of starlight blocked by its shape, Sid saw the menacing contour of a torpedo-shaped vessel. It was enormous—the scout a relative speck compared to this colossus. Pitch-black and closing fast, a colli
sion with the behemoth seemed imminent.
“Will we hit it?” Sid asked. Criss didn’t respond. Must be on mission silence to protect us, Sid thought.
“We will pass above the object,” said Lucy. “Assuming it does not change course.”
Lenny scanned his displays, then swiped at the ops bench. A luminous dotted line appeared on the image in front of them. He whistled as he studied it. “That’s the scout’s path. We won’t hit it, but we’re passing down its length, and we’re coming close.”
Sid considered a series of actions in rapid sequence and decided to do nothing. Criss had assured him the cloak would hide them. Awed by the sight, they both remained still as the monster approached.
The scout, traveling outbound, floated just above the exterior hull of the huge vessel heading for Earth. They watched with morbid fascination as the featureless surface slid by, rolling beneath them like a long, lonely road. The vessel’s tail fins appeared on the horizon. Lenny, after studying his displays and conferring with Lucy, announced they would pass unscathed through the V-shaped gap looming ahead.
An alien tail fin towered above the scout on either side for a moment, and then the giant vessel disappeared behind them. “Flip the view,” said Sid. The projection swiveled, and an image of Earth filled the display. The alien vessel was now receding, framed by the blues, greens, browns, and whites of the planet.
“Are you seeing this?” Sid asked Criss.
“Yeah,” Lenny whispered. “Is that the Kardish?”
“Yup,” Sid replied, wondering about Criss’s lengthening absence. He’d lived thirty-five of his thirty-seven years without Criss in his ear. But since becoming leadership, he had grown accustomed to the crystal’s presence and capabilities. As Sid watched the vessel recede, his intuition prodded him to wonder whether Criss’s absence was voluntary or if the Kardish were somehow involved.
“How did they not see us?” Lenny said, still whispering.
A brilliant flash filled the display. A huge white glob surged from the Kardish vessel, undulating and quivering as if it were alive. Hypnotic in its behavior, the pulsating glow of energy traveled on an unrelenting path, arcing across space. It appeared to accelerate as it moved.
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