As Lenny reviewed the record, he said, “I can find five pulses fired at Earth like the one shot at the moon. I’m not sure if that’s everything, though.”
“Where did they land?”
Lenny paused again, this time staring directly at the crystal housing. He shook his head and, muttering, started flipping through displays.
“That crystal you’re so proud of seems to have lost its edge.” He leaned forward and squinted at something. “What’s it so busy with that it can’t answer these questions?”
Sid looked at Lenny, then over at the console covering the two crystals. Where are you, Criss?
“Anyway, I can’t tell you about Earth without a fair investment of time. Communication is spotty, and the subsystems won’t let me through to the tools I need.”
Lenny sat back in his chair, swiveled toward Sid, and studied him. “We’re in this together, Sid. If we’re going to win, and I don’t even know what that means in this context, you need to level with me.”
Sid glared, expecting Lenny to back down. When he didn’t, Sid decided to unbalance him with a changeup. “We’re going to look for survivors on Lunar Base.”
“Wait. What?” Lenny looked around the small command bridge. “How many injured can we take on?” He waved his hand in the general direction of Earth. “And how do we get them home with that alien dreadnaught in the way?” Lenny leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his temples. “And how come the Kardish didn’t vaporize us?” He glanced at the crystal console. “And your magic crystal is a joke. It’s just you and me out here.”
He’s right, Sid thought, conceding he’d underestimated the man. The two had common goals and needed to work together. He mulled where to start and how much to admit. “I intended to unveil certain information as our mission progressed. What’s happening here was never part of the script.”
He stood and waved for Lenny to follow. Walking into the passageway, he opened the door across from his cabin and gestured for Lenny to look.
“Whoa,” said Lenny, taking tentative steps into the room. Sid followed him in, the oily smell again assaulting his senses.
“Our original mission was to find asteroid caverns that could hide thousands of these drones. They’d sit there at the ready, and if the Kardish ever returned, they’d serve as a secondary strike force for Earth’s defense.”
Lenny studied the drone sitting on one of the two matching raceways. “It’s kind of moot at this point, but I’m pretty sure a few thousand of these wouldn’t present much of an obstacle to them.”
He walked over and squatted in front of the access hatch in the floor. “So they slide down through here. What’s below?”
Sid struggled, trying to decide how much to admit. The improviser in him pared his options, and every one of them included Lenny as a central player. “I don’t know.”
Like Sid had done with Criss watching, Lenny traced the edges of the hatch with his fingers. He looked up at Sid, and his quizzical expression spoke volumes.
Sid swept his arm to encompass the ship and, as he did, he elevated the stakes. “This scout is a prototype that’s testing new technologies. One of them is a cloak that makes us invisible to every beam or ray we know of. The scout actually has two crystals on board, and one is dedicated full time to our cloak.”
“I saw there were two crystals as soon as I sat in the pilot’s chair. I’ve been trying to figure out what that one was spending all its time on. Good thing I never got around to experimenting, because it was definitely on my to-do list.”
“Apparently the cloak works, because the Kardish didn’t see us.”
“Or they think we’re too puny to bother with.” Lenny walked to one of the box-like cases holding additional drones and looked up inside.
“Each of these drones has a crystal just like the two running the scout.” He hoped Lenny could use the information to generate ideas. “They’re the smartest weapons I know of.”
Lenny seemed unimpressed. Squatting to study the drone on the raceway, he said, “We lost contact with Earth, and suddenly both you and Lucy are dumber. No offense, but you both were crisp and knowledgeable when we took off.” He looked over his shoulder at Sid. “Now, not so much.”
Sid’s mind raced. “We’ve been testing direct ground support for onboard activities. We can’t carry a dozen people and a dozen crystals. It’s an old idea that’s making a comeback because instant communication offers the option.”
“I think you mean coincident communication,” said Lenny, rising upright. “From what I know, that’s still just a theory.”
Sid had been winging it and was glad he’d hit pay dirt. “Well, you know the government doesn’t always keep the populace up to date on sensitive issues.”
Lenny stared at him and Sid didn’t flinch. Bullshitting was his sweet spot, and he’d ride it out.
“How’s that working out for you?” Lenny edged past him and moved toward the bridge. Sid followed behind. “Was that ‘looking for survivors’ thing real, or was that more of your crap?”
“There are only two people with military training who’ve ever been on a Kardish vessel.” As Sid said the words, he tried to make himself believe he had no ulterior motive. “Me. And a Fleet captain who’s somewhere in those ruins.”
Lenny called up his pilot’s displays and, using his finger, traced a looping arc on one of the charts. “Lucy, please calculate that.”
A graceful looping path appeared on the chart that was much like Lenny’s, except it had the perfection of machine-drawn symmetry. He leaned in to study it, then slid another frame over and considered the display. “At least she can do simple orbital mechanics.” Lenny flipped through a few more items, and the projected image changed to the moon’s surface near the wreckage of the Lunar Base.
“Execute when the big man’s in his seat.” Lenny turned to look at Sid, who sat in his chair and engaged his restraints. A gentle pressure on their bodies confirmed they’d begun moving.
“Why the big loop?” asked Sid, trying to maintain some sense of leadership.
“Cloak or no, if we’re going down there, I want that cloud of dust between us and the Kardish dreadnaught. We’re coming in from the far side.”
Sid studied the displays and saw that the scout moved slowly. It was a delicate maneuver, and he chose not to intervene.
Lenny spoke without taking his eyes off his work. “Someone with that kind of experience has value only if you’re thinking of sneaking onto their ship. What’re you planning to do, scowl them to death when you get there?”
Irritated by Lenny’s flippant attitude, Sid found himself doing just that. “In truth, I could use some ideas. I’m guessing the resources on Earth are pinned down right now. This scout can’t hurt them. If we’re going to do something, it’ll have to be from the inside. I need to find a way on board their vessel, and then I need a way to inflict serious damage.” He slouched back in his seat and tucked his fingers into the top of his pants, waiting for his improviser instincts to provide him a plan.
“How we gonna find him?”
“Find who?”
Lenny turned toward Sid and glowered. Pointing at the image in front of them, he said, “We’re headed into that mess to rescue your buddy and you forget?”
“Oh. He’s a she. You’ll like her.” He went back to brainstorming, then lifted his head. “Len, when she’s here, if you do anything that seems even a little bit creepy, you’ll be floating home.” He put his head back and closed his eyes.
* * *
Cheryl surfaced to complete darkness and quiet. She lay still for a moment, fighting disorientation, then reached up with her right hand and felt around to see if she was enclosed in something. Sensing her body was inclined at a slight angle, she probed the floor on either side of her. The ground was cold and cracked, and she touched what felt like chunks of rock. Probably what’s jabbing me in the back.
Her head hurt like hell. She touched her face and couldn�
��t feel any soreness until she reached her jaw, and then she winced. Something or someone had delivered a solid blow. She explored her gum line with her tongue but couldn’t find any damage inside her mouth that matched the ache on her chin.
A throb radiated through her head that pulsed with each beat of her heart. Exploring with her fingers, she found a swollen knot at the back of her skull. It seemed huge to the touch, and she entertained the thought of a concussion.
Completing her inventory of injuries, she wiggled her feet and bent her knees, ran her hands over her stomach and chest, and rotated her arms and flexed her hands. Other than the protestations from her head and jaw, no other parts signaled with pain.
She lay still and listened, hearing only the sounds of air passing in and out of her own lungs. Memories started to drift back. She last remembered being in an underground tunnel beneath Lunar Base. She’d been down in the cage, interrogating that slimeball lieutenant.
Fishing for her com, she powered the light function. With her vision in play, she understood she was flat on her back in the hall tunnel. The walls and ceiling were cracked and twisted, and large chunks were missing everywhere she looked. She wondered if a falling chunk had hit her jaw.
Then she remembered she wasn’t alone. “Grace. You okay?”
She struggled to a sitting position. Her head screamed in protest, and she used her grit and determination to force herself up. “Grace,” she called again.
Looking left, she saw a door. That’s the one out to the stairwell and Sergeant What’s-his-name.
She looked to the right, and her anxiety surged. A pile of rubble filled the hall from floor to ceiling, and she couldn’t see any sign of her partner.
Cheryl shifted her weight and made it to her hands and knees. Crawling to the mound, she sat down in front of it and tried to lift a chunk from the pile. Unable to budge the mass from a sitting position, she struggled to her feet, placing a hand on the heap to steady herself. She stayed motionless for the better part of a minute before rising to her full height.
She felt woozy and checked her pockets for meds she knew she didn’t have, wishing she’d find a stray pill designed to reduce swelling and relieve pain. This time she shouted, “Grace!”
Figuring she was trapped on the other side of the rock pile, Cheryl called Grace on her com. She didn’t receive a return signal and searched for other links to see if the failure was her equipment or a complete shutdown of communications at Lunar Base. She found about a dozen signals, but Grace’s wasn’t among them. Why would she disable her com? thought Cheryl, not registering that her own device should have found a thousand signals nearby.
She lifted a chunk off the pile and tossed it to the side. After moving a few more pieces, she concluded that digging her way to Grace was a huge job and she would need help. She picked her way across the cracked floor to the door, but when she tried to open it, it didn’t budge. She scanned the edges and seams around the frame and couldn’t see any obvious damage.
“Sergeant Ravalli?” she yelled, banging the door with her fist. She called him on her com. His signal was live, but he didn’t respond. A realization flooded her thoughts. I’m trapped.
Activating her com’s emergency beacon, she looked at the wreckage around her and wondered what had happened and how much damage Lunar Base had received. Both of those would dictate her priority in receiving help from the response crews.
Returning to the rubble pile, she shifted pieces with determination. Emergency should have checked in with her in seconds. It had now been minutes. As she worked, she reasoned that, whatever had happened, it was big. Her two best guesses were a catastrophic failure of a weapons platform in the defense array, or the criminal syndicate had done something terrible to wreak its revenge.
After thirty minutes, she was exhausted, thirsty, and hurt everywhere. She sat down and looked around her, wondering if fresh air was feeding the space. Tilting her head back, she rested against the wall. She closed her eyes and tried to think, but her head pounded, making focusing difficult.
She took deep breaths and willed herself to relax. Using her com, she checked the oxygen levels in the room and found they were below normal. She called up a chart showing the oxygen levels around her since she’d entered the cage area. They’d started a slow but steady decline about two hours earlier.
She knew she could extrapolate forward based on this steady decline and determine when she’d pass out from lack of oxygen, and when she’d die of asphyxiation. Instead, she turned on some music, closed her eyes, and rested for a moment. She needed a solution to her dilemma, but it was hard to concentrate.
She smiled as she conjured a memory of the time Geo had leaned in and surprised her with a kiss. They were walking home from school. She’d just turned thirteen.
Chapter 23
Juice hid behind an oak tree and watched the Kardish soldiers outside their landing craft. The two aliens looked much like what she remembered from her time on the Kardish vessel, and it sparked more bad memories. They had the familiar long blond hair and wore the ornate clothing and ceremonial swords of royal guardsman. And that meant a king or prince was in orbit above Earth.
If they came for a fight, humanity didn’t stand a chance. This was a warrior race able to blacken the skies with drones and rain murderous energy bombs across the planet surface. She sat down, slumped back on the tree trunk, and toyed with a twig as she struggled to come to terms with a new future. Like awakening after a devastating accident, she feared life would never be the same.
Leaning around the tree, she gazed at the farmhouse through the brush. Seeing no signs of life, she said, “I’m glad I sent Marco and Anna to live in their city apartment.”
Crispin looked at her.
“They’re the caretakers that live in that house. I had them move to the city when I had Criss ask the Crystal Research employees to stay home.”
Crispin returned to studying the activity on the field, then leaned forward and visually traced the edge of the property where it bordered the forest. He crouched down, turned, and started crawling back the way they’d come. She followed, and when they were a safe distance into the woods, they stood and continued walking away from the farm.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“Stealth will not get us to the barn. They will detect us.”
His eyes darted as they walked, then he stopped and slid the pack to the ground. He crouched and brushed away some leaves to expose a small cache of pebbles that had accumulated in a rain wash. He ran his hand across the collection.
“We need to create a diversion. One that will buy us time.”
He picked up one stone after another, examining each, and discarding all but one.
“What are you looking for?”
He placed his prize in his open palm and held it for her to see. “I seek several more about this size. They should have a smooth, balanced shape.” He rolled it in his palm with his finger so she could see all sides. “Jagged edges and lopsided contours will cause it to curve at high speed.”
She scrunched her brow. “I’m lost.”
Crispin stood and pointed in a direction with an open line of sight out some distance. “See the tree in the middle, halfway up that far rise?”
She saw lots of trees and several places that might be described as rises. “No.”
He moved next to her and put his arm near her head. “I will point. Down this slope. Up over the rise. Down again. Then halfway up the next rise. I see a maple tree on the edge of that clearing.”
She didn’t know much about trees and couldn’t tell a maple from an elm, but she believed she had it narrowed down to one of a handful of specimens. “Yup,” she said. His eyesight was better than hers, and she wanted to move this along to see where he was going with it.
He stepped away from her, turned so his left side faced the maple, and hefted his perfect stone. “There are five leaves hanging at the end of a branch.” He wound up like a major-league
pitcher and threw the stone.
Juice didn’t know much about team sports, but she knew athletes. His form was perfect, and his delivery was far faster than anything she ever imagined possible. The stone flew through the air at such a high speed she heard a whizzing noise and then a faint snap. A group of leaves fell to the ground a good two hundred paces away.
“Is that what you were aiming for?”
“Yes.”
“How many leaves fell?”
“Five.”
“Whoa.”
“At the speeds I can throw, imperfections create uncertainty in the path a stone travels. I am confident in my ability to take down those two soldiers if I have balanced, smooth stones.”
“Smooth stones it is,” said Juice, kneeling down and pawing farther down the wash from where Crispin had been looking.
They’d been searching for about ten minutes when the hum of an approaching drone patrol interrupted their work. Juice curled on the ground near some rocks, spread the blanket over her, and waited until the sound faded.
Twenty minutes later they had a pile of about thirty candidates. Crispin sifted through them and found five he accepted. He brushed them clean and polished them against his shirt.
While he was doing this, Juice asked, “So your plan is to knock those two out and run for the barn?”
“Yes.”
“What about drones? Or other soldiers inside the transport? Or other transports nearby?”
He slid five stones into his pocket and looked at her.
She started pacing. “I wonder if we need something bigger. Something that will draw their attention and maybe even blind the drones.”
“Diversions can be helpful.”
“I’m thinking fire.”
He looked at the landscape around them. “You want to start a forest fire?” He scooped a handful of leaves off the ground and crumpled them in his fingers. “I believe it would take many hours to get a flame big enough to catch their attention.”
Crystal Conquest Page 17