She knew that a long, slow arc through the atmosphere would minimize the turbulent wake behind the scout and felt confident she could evade detection with this conservative flight path. But if the cloak worked as advertised and could hide a turbulent descent, she’d save a lot of time diving steep in a direct line to her landing site.
She scanned her displays and stopped on the one tracking the Kardish transports. While entering the atmosphere, one of the group had flipped over. A wisp of smoke trailed behind it as it started to spin and drift away from the pack.
Cheryl recognized the behavior of an out-of-control craft in free fall. She acted without hesitation. Tap. Swipe. Swipe. Her hands blurred as she barked orders at Lucy. “Put us in front of that burner. Now!”
The scout twirled and dove. She held on to the ops bench with one hand and used a finger from the other to trace a path for Lucy to interpret. The engines whined as the scout accelerated in a steep plunge. Lucy pushed the scout hard, and they gained on the transport. A punishing pressure across Cheryl’s body prompted her to move her other arm down to grip the ops bench with both hands.
In less than a minute, Lucy nestled the scout into position in front of the foundering Kardish craft. Cheryl relaxed her grip in stages as they led the now-glowing transport in a rush to Earth. The burning craft sat between the scout and the dreadnaught. In her mind, Kardish sensors would focus on the horror behind her, providing an additional layer of concealment as they traveled on the speedy route home.
Keeping an eye on their descent trajectory, Cheryl flipped on the Fleet upcast. From the snippets she heard during the tense minutes of reentry, the Kardish devastation appeared to be isolated to select pockets around the globe. But where they’d hit, they’d hit hard. She thought about the pressure her dad must be under to guide the Union of Nations’ military response. I’ll bet he feels abandoned by Criss and me.
Her body jerked as the scout swerved. Scanning her displays, she saw fiery pieces breaking off the Kardish troopship she was using as a shield.
“The disintegrating craft poses a safety threat. I’ve moved us out of the way and onto a glide path toward the Crystal Research complex,” announced Lucy.
Cheryl had minutes to choose a landing site. She swiped through displays, hoping to gain some sense of alien activity at the different locations.
While trying to split her attention between assessment and piloting, she acknowledged she couldn’t study landing sites and monitor Lucy’s trajectory to the surface at the same time. This is why solo flying is dangerous.
Her gut told her the Kardish would focus their forces at the Crystal Research complex. She chose her landing site with that same instinct. “Lucy, we’re going to the lodge. Land at Heather Glen.”
A twenty-minute walk over a forested rise, Heather Glen was an open field of wildflowers and natural grasses behind the lodge. She thought the hill might offer some strategic protection if the lodge were already compromised.
“Put us on the western edge of the field.” She snuck a glance at the scopes and couldn’t see any signs of danger. “Get us as close as you can to the trees.”
The scout touched down with a gentle bump. The background thrum quieted as the engines wound down.
Cheryl stood up and stretched, leaning her head slowly toward one shoulder and tilting her torso in the same direction. She held the position and repeated the stretch on her other side. “Ah.” A faint pop provided relief as her spine aligned.
She started thinking through a checklist in preparation for leaving the scout. If there were Kardish in the vicinity, once outside, her com would act like a homing beacon for them. She hated losing all that capability but couldn’t see an alternative. She disabled her com.
Tapping the bench, she studied the view outside the scout. Muted sun lit the field, and long shadows suggested it was low in the sky. Having spent days on the moon and in the scout, she’d lost track of the regional time. She glanced at the master panel. It’s dawn. While mentally setting her internal clock, she checked the weather. Sunny and warming.
She grabbed a light jacket from Sid’s room, moved back to the workshop, pulled a weapon from the munitions cabinet, and snapped it on her wrist. She started to close the door, hesitated, grabbed a second weapon, and snapped it on her other wrist.
Exiting the scout through the bottom hatch, she hurried into the woods. She strode up over the rise and descended to the tree line facing the rear of the lodge—the sanctuary she shared with Sid and Juice. Standing behind the tree, she performed a situational analysis using skills she’d learned as a Fleet plebe.
The only thing moving was nature’s dance—birds flying, tree limbs swaying, the sparkle of a brook feeding the pond. She couldn’t see any sign of alien activity, but she heard faint noises from far up the hill to the south. They were unusual sounds for this familiar place, and she assumed they revealed the presence of Kardish at or near the farm.
She moved in hurried bursts from tree to tree, circling the outer perimeter of the grounds. Reaching a wooded spot about fifty paces from the lodge, she performed her second evaluation. Methodical and thorough, she studied each window, surveyed the hills, and scanned along the perimeter of the forest. Nothing.
Inhaling and exhaling in a deliberate manner, she checked the sky in all directions. Seeing nothing of concern, she took off in a sprint. The bruise on her thigh screamed in protest, but she didn’t slow until she was under the cover of the side entrance. Keying the door, she stepped inside, stood still, and listened.
She closed the door, hugged the wall, and looked down the hall. Behind her, a faint hum echoed from somewhere outside. She took a few steps deeper into the building to distance herself from the window. The sound grew to a muted buzz, passed overhead, and faded in the distance. Given its behavior, she wished she’d snuck a peek. She vowed to try and catch a glimpse if she heard it again.
Move fast and find Juice. Cheryl knew she didn’t have the training to restart, repair, or do anything useful with an AI crystal if Criss needed human intervention. Juice was the key to getting him into the game and fighting the Kardish. If she were here at the lodge, Cheryl should be able to locate her in minutes.
The hallway stretched along the first floor of the lodge’s right wing. A short set of stairs at the far end led up into the taller central building with its huge foyer. A matching set of stairs across the lobby led down to an identical hallway layout through the lodge’s left wing.
She trotted along the hall and stopped before reaching the first open door. She squared against the wall at the edge of the doorframe and leaned over for a quick glance inside. Snapping upright, she reviewed her memory of the mental snapshot. Empty.
Continuing down the hall, she performed a stop-and-peek at each open door. She passed by all the closed doors, choosing not to perform an exhaustive room-by-room search. She expected Juice’s presence would be apparent if she were here. And most likely that evidence would be in the kitchen and her personal suite, both of which were on the second floor.
At the end of the hall, she crouched low and climbed the steps up to the lobby, scanning for danger as her head rose level with the grand foyer floor. The lobby was empty. Rather than explore the left wing, she looped around and climbed a longer set of stairs up to the second floor. Stepping into the hall at the top of the stairs, she hugged the side wall as she moved down the corridor toward the kitchen.
Just outside the kitchen entryway, she thought she heard noise coming from inside. She froze and pressed her back against the hallway wall, staying motionless and listening for a ten count. Hearing nothing, she let caution rule and listened for a second ten count.
Whatever she’d heard didn’t repeat. She sidled up to the kitchen door, paused, and performed a quick lean-and-peek. Snapping upright, she looked down the hall in both directions and processed the memory of her glimpse.
She didn’t see any people in the kitchen but recalled seeing items on the counter near the main sink that
seemed out of place. The hurried glance wasn’t enough for her to identify the items.
She leaned over again and took a more deliberate look. She noted several small containers near the sink. Leaning farther into the kitchen, she surveyed the room.
Searching for signs of Juice’s recent presence, she spotted a plate and glass near the food service unit. Curious about the small containers near the sink, she took a step into the room. At her second step someone grabbed her from behind. A large hand covered her mouth, pressing firmly on her face and causing a sharp pain to radiate from the bruise on her jaw. She began to fight back, but a well-muscled arm looped around her neck, immobilizing her.
Chapter 30
Crouching on a knoll located south of the property, Juice studied the lodge from under the branches of a sturdy tree.
“The sun will be up in a few minutes,” said Criss, squatting next to her.
Hungry, thirsty, and tired, she looked into the dark shadows surrounding the building. Faint sounds of Kardish activity carried down from the mountain behind her. Her anxiety grew because she knew that as the aliens enlarged their search area, soldiers would be moving toward the lodge.
She put a hand on Criss’s shoulder as she adjusted her stance. They’d been walking at a slow and cautious pace for hours, yet she panted through her mouth. “It looks clear to me.”
“I don’t believe they’d leave this place unguarded,” said Criss. “It doesn’t make sense.”
A hum invaded the dawn, and Juice let Criss help her stand. He held her close, moved back against the tree, and guided her in a circle, using the wide trunk to shield them from three drones speeding across the property and above the lodge.
“I feel better knowing they’re watching,” he said as the sound faded in the distance. “It solves that riddle. Now I wonder if they already have soldiers inside. If they don’t, I’m confident they will in the next few hours.”
“We’re both fading fast,” said Juice, starting down the slope. “Let’s get in, grab what we can, and head back into the hills.” She pointed north. “Let’s travel that way this time.”
Criss followed Juice down the slope and, as soon as the path widened a bit, moved in front of her. In the recesses of her mind, she knew he did this because it was the safe or logical action as determined by his exceptional crystal decision matrix, but she chose to view it as chivalry. She scurried next to him and put an arm around his waist.
“My milk is in the kitchen on the second floor.” He put an arm around her and, intertwined, they walked for a few moments as a single entity. “We’ll go there and both replenish.”
“I can’t decide if I’ll drink some water, then eat. Or eat something and then drink.” Giddy that relief was imminent, a certain recklessness replaced what moments before had been nervous unease.
They approached the edge of the tree cover and Criss released her. She stepped back and let him assess the site. She picked out the window she believed to be the kitchen and stared at it. She had a fleeting thought of activating her com and using it to have a feast waiting for her when she arrived upstairs. But even in her weakened physical and emotional state, she knew the Kardish could trace her com signal. It would be an act of suicide.
He rested a hand on the small of her back and pointed at the covered front porch. “We’re going there. Run hard, Juice. This is the last push. Ready?” He caught her eye. “In three…two…one…go.”
Juice dug deep into her dwindling reserves of energy as she accelerated, swinging her arms to stretch each step into a longer stride. A distance runner by training, she gave her all as she raced in the less familiar style of the short sprint. Criss leapt forward and reached the porch ahead of her. He keyed the door open and turned to ensure her safe arrival. She bounded up the steps and kept running until she was inside. He timed the closing of the door so precisely that it just missed her trailing foot.
Juice didn’t stop running. Acting with abandon, she took the stairs two at a time, dashed down the hall at the top of the stairs, and ducked into the kitchen. She filled a glass with water and drained it. As the glass filled again, she ordered hot buttered bread from the food service unit. She was finishing her last gulp when a plate slid onto the countertop, the rich yeast aroma and faint wisp of steam affirming its warmth.
She snatched up a piece and took a big bite out of the center, leaving a butter smear on either side of her mouth. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she grinned as Criss entered.
“I’m in heaven,” she said before taking another bite. This is so good.
While still eating the bread, she selected a cheese omelet. “Protein next.” She turned to see him reach up to the top shelf of a cabinet next to the sink.
“This floor is clear,” he said as he pulled down a box. “Let’s try to be out in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes? I need to eat, clean up, eat, pack, and eat.”
He placed the box on the counter next to the sink. Carrying her plate of eggs, she walked over and stood near him.
Flipping back the lid, he exposed a dozen small vials, each the size of his thumb. Organized in three neat rows, he lifted one out and flipped up the top. He filled a small glass with water and, holding it at eye level, tipped the vial and squeezed gently. Five drops dripped from the vial into the water. Swirling the glass, the liquid became milky colored. He brought it to his lips and downed it in a single gulp.
“Ahh,” he said, smacking his lips. “Good batch.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously? That’s it?”
He took out seven more vials and set them in a group next to the sink. “This is concentrate. With clean water, there’s enough here to feed the synbod for at least two months.” He closed the box and put the remaining vials back in the cabinet. “I’ll leave some for when we return.”
Juice finished her omelet and set the plate on the counter. “Can I have fifteen minutes? I haven’t been in civilization for days.”
“Fifteen.” He pointed to the door. “Not a second longer. And wear your hiking boots.”
She turned to the door, and he startled her by taking her arm in a firm grip and pulling her around. “Shush,” he whispered, his mouth next to her ear. “Someone’s here.”
Pointing to the walk-through pantry door—the only other exit out of the kitchen—he spoke so softly she could barely hear. “Wait at the pantry but don’t go through the door until I signal.”
Juice tiptoed to the door while watching Criss. He acted like an animal who knew it was about to become prey. Moving slowly in her direction, he held his head high and swiveled it back and forth. She presumed he was using his hearing to locate and track the intruder who, based on the positioning of his head, was moving down the hall and toward the kitchen.
Criss drew close to her, paused, then opened the pantry door and rushed them both out of the kitchen. The large, dimly lit pantry held several rows of shelves filled with consumables and supplies.
“Hide,” Criss pointed behind him to the shelves while walking to a second pantry door that led out to the hall. He put his ear against the door, waited for a moment, slipped through into the corridor, and closed the door behind him.
Juice stood in the quiet. Hiding is a nice thought, but a couple of rows of shelves can be searched by a child in a few seconds. Instead, she put her ear to the door leading back to the kitchen, held her breath, and listened for clues.
Her nerves were taut and the silence dragged on. She started to wonder if the action was taking place in another part of the lodge. And then she heard what sounded like a muffled grunt and a short scuffle, followed by more silence.
* * *
Sid held a pair of space coveralls out to Lenny. “You ever wear these before?”
“Not a problem,” replied the new, confident Lenny. He took the suit from Sid and draped it across the seat of his drone. Opening a cowl on the top of the machine, he leaned over to look inside, then snaked a filament wire through the opening, coupled it
to a junction, and closed the cover. He attached the other end of the filament to his com.
Lenny tapped the screen of his com, and his grin told Sid what he wanted to know.
“So you can pilot this thing?” Sid asked.
Twin rear ducts on his drone closed and opened, reminding Sid of a wink. “I own her. And with a direct wire connection, I won’t be broadcasting any signals.”
Lenny set down his com and started suiting up. “So we have your machine programmed to follow mine, and my job is to follow a returning pack of drones into the dreadnaught.”
“That’s pretty much it,” said Sid.
“And we’ll be on mission silence because any transmissions will reveal our presence to the Kardish.”
“Yeah.” Sid wondered where this was heading.
“And what’s your job again?”
Ah, there it is. “I’ll be scouting for opportunities.”
“And with our communications disabled, how will you let me know if you see an opportunity?”
Sid bent over and picked up a small bit of scrap lying on the deck. “I’ll throw this. If you feel it hit you, catch my eye.”
Looking at the object in Sid’s hand, Lenny frowned. He realized he was being teased when he looked up to see Sid grinning.
“Len, in the perfect scenario, I’m just a passenger on a ride-along. If things go bad, I promise I’ll be in the thick of it. The time of greatest uncertainty is when we enter their ship.” Sid tightened the front of his suit and let the hood drape down behind him.
“If the dreadnaught is like their other vessel, we’ll be flying through a hangar door into a huge open area. In front of us will be a drone parking garage. Imagine hundreds of shelving units—long, skinny buildings lined one behind the next for as far as you can see. Each unit is five or ten shelves high, and each shelf is partitioned into hundreds of cubicles along its length. Do the math. If each cubicle holds a drone, that’s several hundred thousand drones, spread out over a dozen city blocks in each direction.”
Crystal Conquest Page 23