“Dr. Iverson, sir. We’ve been watching his brainwaves closely since the surgery and—it’ll be easier if I just show you.” He pulled up the graph that showed the initial access again and then slid another next to it that looked very similar, but with several different colored jagged lines running across the holo-page. “This is Dr. Iverson’s brainwaves at the same time. They’re off the charts. We have no idea how he did it, but by this,” a circle appeared around a section of green jagged line, “we know he was asleep at the time and dreaming.”
“So you’re saying that one of our employees managed to hack into the most complex and sophisticated computer system in the world and he did so while sleeping?”
“Yes sir. It’s a little unbelievable, but we’re certain it was him. There are tiny moments when the system shows him in the BOCS, fractions of seconds, but enough to convince the computer that he was inside. We have no idea how.”
Dr. Stephens sighed. It’s our own doing, messing with his mind like we are. “Thank you. Send all of this,” he waved at the graphs in the air, “to my mobile inbox. I guess I’m off to see Vander again.”
The tech winced at the name and smiled a sad, sympathetic smile while gathering the graphs, reports, and images in the air and bundling them together with a wave. A gesture from the screen to Dr. Stephens sent the bundle spiraling through the air, shrinking down as it flew until it disappeared into Dr. Stephens’ right pocket.
Still like that little trick. Dr. Stephens smiled to himself as he walked out. The pocket visual had been his idea. The mobile inbox existed inside a chip inserted in his hand, but seeing files, photos, emails, and reports disappear into your hand had been disturbing.
James pulled up a holoscreen image of his dragon. His mouth fell open. What? The dragon hovering before him resembled his earlier designs, but there were some major changes that he didn’t remember making.
The scales had taken on an iridescent quality, shimmering half a dozen colors. Two days ago they had been the hue of old rust, a muddy reddish brown. James paced around the holo-image, watching the light bounce off scales in blue green rainbows. Weird, but not bad at all. I kinda like it.
“Computer, pull up any new sections written in the last three days on this project, will you?”
“Of course, James.”
The familiar spiral of DNA swirled around him and several sections lit up in yellow. These included a few alterations he’d made Friday afternoon, but there were huge lines of code that had date stamps from Sunday morning. Early Sunday morning!
He recognized some of these genes and could see how they affected the coloring, brain size, and lung capacity, but four whole sections of new code existed that he had no idea what they might do. Not to mention the interactions that these genes will have with other genes. Who made them? This makes no sense.
“Computer, begin a crosscheck for similar codes in your database.” A screen popped up in the middle of the room showing a status bar that filled faster than he expected. The speed of the computer digging through so much genetic information still blew him away.
As the process ran, James pulled up a full visual of the dragon. It appeared fully formed in the middle of the room. He walked around it looking for anything else out of the ordinary. Apart from the coloring, the wings had grown larger and more translucent. The skin between the bones took on a crystalline quality with tiny red and purple veins glittering just below the surface. “Weird. Who would do this?”
The question had been just for himself, but the soft, sweet voice of the computer answered. “You did, James.”
James stumbled back away from the dragon. “What? I wasn’t here Sunday morning.”
The computer answered calmly back, “James Iverson accessed project number 1211 Sunday morning at 3:27am.”
James shook his head. “No, I was asleep at 3:27am.”
“Yes,” the computer answered.
“Yes what?” Frustration filled his voice to counterbalance the computer’s endless patience.
“Yes, you were asleep, James.” There seemed to have a hint of laughter in its voice, but James thought he might be imagining it.
“So you’re saying I sleepwalked in here and did all this work?”
“No evidence of sleepwalking. You were asleep and you did work.” The computer sounded annoyed that it could not be more definite.
“Maybe Mike and Angie are right. I can’t even stay away while I’m sleeping. I’ve never sleepwalked before. Have I?”
“Unconfirmed, but you have not sleepwalked in your time here at the Omegaphil complex.”
“That’s right. You track me, don’t you?”
“Correct.”
“I’ve also got to stop talking to the computer like she’s a real person. It’s kind of creepy.”
“Creepiness is unconfirmed.”
“Thanks.” James rolled his eyes and lost himself in thought for several moments thinking of himself wandering the white halls with his arms outstretched like a zombie.
James jumped when the computer’s voice came again. “Search is complete. No known matches in my database.”
“What? That’s not possible. Nothing similar in the system at all?”
“Correct.”
“So I wandered in here in the middle of the night and created two whole new genes that are unlike anything we have on file anywhere in just a of couple hours?”
“Wandering is unconfirmed and unlikely, but the last parts of your question are correct.”
“It’s probably just gibberish then, like when you fall asleep on the keyboard and wake up to seven pages of 'g's.”
“Unknown.”
“That wasn’t a question!”
“Sorry, James. It sounded like a question. I have a 98 percent rate of question identification.”
“Good for you. Let’s delete those sections then, everything from Sunday.”
“Deleting new code from Sunday.”
“Wait!” James realized that the new genes hadn’t come up with any unviable markers. The visible changes had also been improvements of one sort or another. “Keep it. Not like it’s going to keep me from finishing, is it?”
“Correct.”
“Oh, shut up!”
“Yes, James.”
James left early that afternoon. He’d already completed a day’s worth of work, he’d promised to meet Angie, and the computer was getting on his nerves.
Chapter 17: Room of Silent Tears
Aren walked in dim silence as Dveldor sang and hummed bits of music to the walls of the cavern. The sound filled the small space and reverberated down side tunnels they passed.
Aren sensed that the Dwaro could see using this sound, like a bat or a submarine. His tiny lantern didn’t give off much light and she’d hit her head more than once on the low ceiling. They’d been following the winding labyrinth of tunnels in near darkness for hours. Despite the warmth of Dveldor’s hand in her own and the lifting song, she felt alone and lost.
She stepped on a pebble and stumbled, catching at Dveldor to keep from falling. His strength surprised her, a grip like steel and arms like stone. She would’ve guessed her weight would topple them both, but the Dwaro held her up without so much as a grunt.
She fought tears, refusing to let them fall. She’d burnt through too much adrenaline today, too fast. She knew she couldn’t last much longer. Too much fear, excitement, amazement, and sadness had blown through her body in just a matter of hours. Her legs shook with fatigue as she continued shuffling along beside Dveldor.
Aren thought of her soft bed, not miles away, but in another universe, across endless space, past countless stars, planets, even galaxies all spinning through the night. I am so small, just a speck of nothingness. She pushed that mad thought away. She’d finally given up on the idea that she could just wake up, drooling on her desk or lying in her bed, hours ago. This is not a dream, and I’m in some deep trouble here.
The small furry man patted her hand and made cooing
sounds of comfort, seeming to sense her inner turmoil.
Aren closed her eyes and let thoughts of her home slip away. “How much farther, Dveldor? I can’t do this much longer.” She squinted down a branching tunnel to her right, but the suffocating blackness swallowed everything beyond a few feet.
“Almost Aren. I turn up lantern for you.” The thin beam of light grew and filled the space around them, chasing away the darkness that had clung to her.
Aren frowned. “You could’ve done that any time, Dveldor?”
“Sorry Aren. I forgot humans not see like us.”
“It’s okay; I can’t believe I didn’t ask until now.” She laughed and found herself unable to stop once she’d unleashed the craziness that bubbled inside her. The laughter flowed from her for several minutes, racking her body with convulsions and robbing her breath.
If she stopped, she’d start crying. Dveldor laughed with her. Of course he’s a bit crazy right now too. He’s been nervous and afraid too. They leaned against one another, their laughter bouncing off the crystalline ceiling formations, until both gasped for air.
Dveldor grinned at her when their breathing settled. “Better?”
Aren’s eyes twinkled in the light of the lantern. “Yes, very much better. Let’s go. Whoa!” She gasped as she saw the cavern around her in full illumination.
The walls glittered with streaks of silver, gold, and sparkling gemstones, all embedded in swirling patterns that drew her eyes up and down in endless spirals, runes, and pictures. Crystals hung from the ceiling, catching the light of the lantern and shattering it into a thousand glimmering sparks of every color. Rainbows danced along the walls and Aren felt that nothing had ever been beautiful before.
She’d seen the Grand Canyon, the sandstone cliffs of Zion, the delicate stalactites of Carlsbad, the roaring waters of Niagara, but those were all nothing compared to the home of the Dwaros. Every ridge of stone balanced with the surroundings. Sandstone, limestone, and granite swirled together as though they belonged side by side. Polished crystals shivered and hummed with the residue of their laughter and delicate stone lace draped down from the ceiling streaked with blue and white veins of shiny minerals.
The floor looked like glass, smooth and polished. She bent and ran a hand across the surface, realizing that it was glass, sheets of shining obsidian pieced together so the seams were invisible in the dim light. Her hand ran along the warm surface without much friction.
Aren’s knees quivered from the overwhelming beauty around her. “Wow, Dveldor. The trip wouldn’t have felt so long if I’d been able to see this the whole time.”
An hour or so of more walking made the beauty less striking. Her neck ached. Aren had to walk with her head tilted at an awkward angle to avoid hanging stone lacework. The glittering caverns closed in on her from all sides, built for bodies much smaller than her human frame.
She imagined a larger person would struggle even more, bent over, half crawling along behind her. The image morphed into Kaden and she laughed and choked at the idea.
Dveldor looked up at her questioning, but said nothing.
“I’m fine. Do these caves of yours get any bigger though?”
“Ah. Just ahead is a place you can stand tall again. Then the tunnels get bigger as we draw closer to the Petro Gates.”
Now that he mentioned it, Aren felt cool air flowing over them. The small lantern failed to illuminate that far ahead, but she heard the sound of their footfalls echoing in the larger chamber ahead. She could also taste moisture rolling toward her, sweet and metallic.
Aren sped her pace and stumbled into the chamber before Dveldor. She stood up, stretching and cracking her neck and back as she blinked into the darkness. She stopped mid-stretch as Dveldor’s tiny lantern came into the room.
“Wow!” The walls shimmered and waved like blown silk. It reminded her of the waves she’d seen just before Kaden had dragged them through the wormhole. Could it be? Am I going home? Kaden?
Aren held her breath, waiting for the dark hole to appear and take her away, but the movement of the walls continued and no scary doorway materialized. Her breath came out in a long sigh. I’m still lost.
She stood in a rounded room with a high ceiling, a perfect dome of deep blue crystal. Water entered from a thumb sized hole at the crown of the room and rolled along the surface, pooling in a crescent around half the room. Aren stood transfixed as the walls danced with life around her.
The lack of sound felt strange. Aren didn’t hear a single burble or trickle of water. The carvings in the blue crystal caught the liquid, swirling and carrying it in careful patterns until depositing the precious water into the silent pool. The light from the lantern reflected and refracted through the chamber, surrounding them in blue light that swam with the movement of the water.
“It’s beautiful.” Aren’s voice in the silence startled herself.
Dveldor smiled up at her and began to sing. The melody grew from a whisper, the music flowing and pooling like the water as it filled the cavern and reverberated off the dome walls.
Aren closed her eyes as the images and ideas that came with Dveldor’s language engulfed her. Shimmering blue tones rolled through her senses along with the tang of minerals gathered over centuries in the mysterious underground tunnels. Delicate liquid spirals appeared and then sank back into the darkness to continue their long journey through the shadows.
The song ended and the sound dissipated to a hum, like the sound of a bell after it tolled. Aren dared not speak and disrupt the spell.
Dveldor had no problem interrupting the last ringing sound. “The Room of Silent Tears.” The English rang hollow after the fullness of his song. “No human has been here in hundreds of years. You are very lucky.”
“Yes, I believe I am.”
Chapter 18: Out of the Sandbox
Dr. Stephens imagined he sat before the grim reaper himself, a man who took lives without thought or mercy and gave life just as readily. Vander grinned up at the holoscreen. The light flickered off his face making it appear even more like a skinless skull. I work for a strange man.
“So, our little prodigy is still growing?” Vander glanced through the semi-transparent screen to look Dr. Stephens in the eyes.
Stephens nodded, feeling braver with the barrier between them even though he knew it consisted of nothing but photons. “Yes sir. He appears to be unconsciously reprogramming the system. Hacking in and confusing the AI. I have a team working on an antivirus program that should lock him out.”
“Lock him out? Why would we want that? Sometimes I wonder how you got that PhD, Dr. Stephens.”
Dr. Stephens had heard that sneering joke a thousand times. This time he’d prepared a reply. “The antivirus is only to prevent him from delving into areas besides the BOCS program. I thought we’d allow him to play in the sandbox, but not the beach. I’ve also added extra programs to monitor his development.” Stephens couldn’t keep the pride out of his voice even though he knew it might backfire on him.
Vander fixed an appraising eye on him and didn’t speak for several moments. “Hmm, I may have underestimated you, Dr. Stephens. Not something I do often. Keep an eye on young Dr. Iverson for me. Keep me informed on his progression and let me know if he ever makes it out of the sandbox, so to speak.”
Dr. Stephens slipped quietly out. The praise felt warm and light in his chest, but he wasn’t going to tempt fate by saying anything more. As Stephens turned to close the door, Vander paused on an image of Iverson’s brainwave activity. The evil grin returned. The greenish light cast by the file flickered across the man’s skeletal features and left him with an image that would fill his nightmares for the rest of his life.
Rho ran its mental influence through the worlds of reality and felt the welcome terror flow back as their dreams, their nightmares, molded to the dark god’s will. Rho snuffed a weak spark of light out, grinning as death followed. Rho extinguished another, then another, then a hundred at a time.
; The god of darkness enjoyed these games. It had forgotten how much pleasure it could derive from them. It pushed again, hard, and felt millions of the sparks of life pulse with terror and despair, desperate to be free of it.
The dark god reached farther into the worlds around it, teaming with life, as it lapped up the terror. Rho licked hungrily at the pain, sorrow, and fear it caused, laughing at the victims, eating at their minds and souls. Bringing pain, death, and shadows to the realms of the living to remind them of its existence.
This allowed Rho momentary escape from the dark prison. But, as always, Rho grew bored with the miniscule sparks of life and their inability to challenge the god. Rho allowed the foothold to slip, extinguishing a few thousand more sparks with a quick slash of mental power as it returned to its twisting body in the murky void once more.
Feustis held back tears as he felt death roll over the planet he swore to protect. I am failing them.
“No, you are not. You are saving millions, including the three who will save countless more at another time in another place.”
Feustis couldn’t ever tell the two apart by their voice. He glanced up and was surprised to see red robes at his side. Erastin wasn’t usually the most encouraging of the twin gods.
The god smiled and Feustis felt warmth flow through his veins. “We are doing what we can to help you, but you do something far more important than you know.”
James listened to the hum of the BOCS warming up. He’d come to love the sound of the mysterious machinery. The hum built to a deafening crescendo as James filled his head with images, ideas, and genetic code.
The computer responded with enthusiasm. Instead of the slow creation of grass, trees, and animals like he’d seen with Mike, the room burst to life in a second, life sprouting from the walls and floor instantly.
A clearing appeared around him ringed by monstrous trees. The sky blazed a silvery blue, so crisp and clear he could easily see the dual moons even in the daylight. A red gash, almost a light purple, ran the length of the sky from east to west, disappearing behind the occasional fluffy white cloud. James stared at the sky, blinking up at the crimson nebula, light-years away but dominating the night sky.
The Crystal Bridge (The Lost Shards Book 1) Page 14