* * *
Juice slumped back in the loveseat and sorted through a list of tasks in her head. The next few days promised to be intense.
“He’s amazing, J.” Alex looked where Criss had been. “That’s your work?”
“What?”
“Don’t hurt my feelings. Let’s step through this labyrinth of logic. You are President of Crystal Sciences, which fabricates the most advanced intelligences in the solar system. And Criss is clearly AI.” He tapped a finger to his lips in a pretend show of deep thinking.
Then he shifted his knees toward her. “We reviewed that AI diagnostic together for Beckman our first summer in his lab. Remember? Criss never interjects, interrupts, speaks over, or does anything that diagnostic had as indicators. He leads by following, supporting ideas that fit his agenda. He’s deferential. He’s too smart, too handsome, too…perfect.” He patted her leg. “Like me, which is why you’re crazy about me.”
Juice folded her arms across her chest and Alex continued, “And I’m thinking this makes you part of the leadership that didn’t give you permission to share with me. Anyway, even without your ‘I have a secret’ routine, which is like saying ‘don’t look where I’m pointing,’ by the way, I’d have figured it out.”
Juice glowered at him, her annoyance unmistakable in her icy tone. “I can’t talk about it.”
“I hear you. But since I know, can you at least tell me if he’s a four-gen? He has to be, right?”
Rising to her feet, she said, “We have a long day tomorrow and I’m exhausted. I think I’ll head back to my room. Meet for breakfast?”
“Please stay.” Alex patted the loveseat cushion next to him. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I apologize.”
“I’m honestly tired.”
Alex stood and leaned forward to kiss her. She turned her cheek to him and made a pecking noise, and then started for the exit.
“You’re overreacting,” he called.
“I just remembered I have a crazy morning tomorrow. Let’s meet after breakfast.” The door closed behind her.
Muttering, Juice followed Criss’s arrows into the Central District and to an apartment he’d arranged for her so she could be alone. Staying in the colony saved travel, giving her more time for sleep. She didn’t notice the beautiful décor in her bedroom, nor did she consider how Criss had arranged for her clothes and toiletries to be there.
Sitting on the bed, she called for him, told him to go away, then, after staring into the dark for most of an hour, called to him again.
“It’s my fault he knows. I guess it’s no surprise he figured it out. He’s smart as hell.”
Criss sat on the edge of her bed and remained silent.
“I remember now from our time at BIT that he can be a little arrogant. It’s not a positive trait. But here is the real heart of it. The first thing I asked of him, the only thing I asked, was to not pry. He ignored me and did it anyway.” She sat up and leaned against the headboard. “If there ever was a warning sign, that would be it.”
“Perhaps Cheryl would have insights.”
“I’m not going to bother her this late. I don’t want to be that whiny friend.” She smoothed the bedsheet with her hand. “Are they angry with me?”
She’d committed a huge blunder by revealing Criss’s existence outside of leadership, and much of her angst grew from that mistake. To ensure the knowledge of his existence spread no further, Criss would now need to monitor Alex around the clock, perhaps for decades.
“I can say that neither Sid nor Cheryl were surprised at seeing him. And operationally, it has no impact on what comes next.”
She knew Criss wouldn’t violate Sid’s or Cheryl’s personal confidence, but she’d asked the question because she felt she could glean information from his careful response. Here, she took his words to say, “Sid and Cheryl are not upset with you.”
With her burden lightened, she transitioned into work mode, burying herself in the technical challenges ahead. There in the bedroom, Criss projected a scaled-down but lifelike image of the fab facility ICEU, and with his help, she worked through the steps of transferring an AI cognition matrix into a four-gen crystal.
“Here’s how you monitor deployment,” said Criss, showing her different displays. “This adjusts lattice orientation. And this shows the unfolding sequence in ladder form.”
Juice toyed with the different features but didn’t practice. The only way this would work was if Criss ran every step of the transfer. For her to play a meaningful role, she’d need a month to gain facility with the methods and equipment.
“Shouldn’t we tell everyone to get to shelter?” she asked after finishing a sequence. “Each apartment is its own life support containment, and then there’re the buildings themselves. As long as everyone is inside, they’ll be okay.”
“I am not sure how Ruga would react if we sounded the alarm and sent everyone for cover.”
“We can’t let them die.”
“We will wait until the transfer has started and Ruga is unconscious. Until then, as long as we play by his rules, he won’t do anything that puts his transfer at risk.”
“What does Sid say?”
“Both he and Cheryl support waiting.”
She snuggled under the covers and curled into a ball. “Do you think there’s hope for us?”
“It is difficult to change people. Can you accept who he is?”
She smiled because he knew which “us” she’d meant. “A bighead who pushes when he shouldn’t?”
“Is that how you see him?”
“No. I really like him.”
She lay still but the thoughts swirling in her head prevented her from falling asleep. She checked the time, and the late hour and shrinking window for rest heightened her anxiety. “Can you help?”
“Are you ready?”
When she’d become leadership, he’d weaned her from commercial pharmaceuticals and, for sleep assistance, moved her to a form of hypnosis. She trusted him and desired his help, and this made her a perfect candidate for simple post-hypnotic suggestion.
“Yes.” She nodded into the pillow.
He said her trigger phrase: “Sleep well, young lady.”
Her body relaxed and her respiration dropped as she transitioned to sleep. Before long, she entered a dream state.
Surfacing hours later, she extended her arms, arched her back, and pointed her toes in a long, feline stretch.
“Did you let me oversleep?” she asked, checking the time.
“No. Alex will be at the lab in about ninety minutes. You have time for coffee before you eat.”
She grabbed a mug of medium roast from the food service unit and slumped into a chair in the living area.
Appearing in a matching chair across from her, Criss took a sip of coffee and then ran his finger around the rim of his cup. “Sid and Cheryl give you permission to talk to Alex about me.”
“What did they say exactly?” she asked, leaning forward.
“Sid said we either need to tell Alex or kill him, then Cheryl and he started squabbling about the best way to dispose of the body here on Mars. When they couldn’t agree, they decided maybe it was just easier to tell him and be done with it.”
“They did not. Did they?”
Criss laughed. “No. Whatever you decide is what they want. That’s the truth.”
Humming, she carried her coffee to the bedroom and readied for her day. I can’t be mad at Alex because he was smart enough to connect the dots.
Being open and honest about Criss would repair the rift between them and remove the issue as a source of future conflict. It would also open the way for them to move quickly on finalizing the transfer protocol. As things stood now, that was their highest priority.
After a short walk to the tech center, she breezed through its lobby and down to the fab facility. As she approached the door, nervous excitement caused her stomach to flutter. A second cup of coffee wasn’t the best choice for breakfast.
/> The door hissed open, and fixing a smile on her face, she entered.
“Good morning, J,” said Alex, smiling back at her over the top of the crystal growth chamber.
As he came around the machine, she announced with a bit too much drama, “I have something to say.”
He stopped, waiting, so she continued, “This is Criss.”
Criss, wearing a white lab coat, appeared next to the ICEU.
“Hello, Alex,” said Criss, whose image nodded a greeting, then turned from them to study the ICEU panel display.
“Everything you were guessing about him last night is correct.”
“Wait,” said Alex, looking up at the ceiling. “Ruga is watching.”
“Ruga knows. Criss is the pet he taunted me about.” She caught Alex’s eye. “I’m putting everything out in the open for you. No secrets. I’m sorry for my behavior yesterday.”
“No.” Alex looked at the ground. “I shouldn’t have pushed you after you asked me not to.”
The lab door hissed open and a Blue entered.
“Is that Ruga?” asked Juice, the question escaping her lips at the same time it formed in her mind.
“Yes,” said Criss.
Ruga remained still, watching. Then, clasping his arms behind his back, he began, “Good morning, everyone. I propose that we fabricate the crystal today and run it through a validation test tonight.”
He gestured toward the crystal growth chamber in the center of the room and looked at Juice. “Since Crystal Sciences has automated those steps, you and your pet can use that time to finalize the transfer protocol. We move me into the new crystal tomorrow night.” He winked. “And you will want me to be awake and alert before noon the next day or you won’t like what happens next.”
“What should we do after we wake you?” asked Alex. “You’ll need a console to function at full capability.”
A scowl formed on Ruga’s face and he spoke in a crisp cadence that gave Juice goose bumps. “I suggest you focus on the assignments you already have.”
Ruga walked to the worktop along the wall, picked up the jar of crystal flake, and carried it to the crystal growth chamber. “There,” he said as he set it next to the feed hopper. “I’ve gotten you started.”
Moving back near where the jar had been, he assumed a watchful stance, silent and unmoving except for his hands, which clenched into fists and then relaxed, over and over in a slow, repeated motion.
Juice looked at Criss and nodded at the crystal growth chamber. “We should start by reviewing Alex’s modifications.” She tapped and swiped through the panel displays, and he joined her at the machine. “Will this work?” She pointed at symbols in a complex logic sequence.
“It will,” Criss said in her ear. “But his settings are too aggressive. It will skew during fabrication.”
“Did you know the mainline isn’t centered?” she asked Alex over her shoulder. Criss pointed and Juice looked where he indicated. “And your amplification is high.”
Criss pointed again. “No,” she said. “This won’t work.”
“Reset?” suggested Criss in private.
“We’re going to reset,” she said out loud, tapping the panel and authorizing the procedure.
“No!” Alex’s tone pitched up as he voiced his objection. “You can’t use default settings here. The gravity is lower and so is the air pressure. I spent weeks calibrating that.”
She stepped back and, watching the machine cycle, said in an absent voice, “I’m sorry.” Working through a sequence she’d executed dozens of times, she picked up the jar of crystal flake that Ruga had moved, opened the lid to the side hopper, and emptied the contents into it. “This unit uses active placement so it isn’t affected by either. I thought you knew that.”
“Ready here,” Criss called aloud.
She walked back next to him and looked at the main panel display. All six status bars glowed green.
“Here we go,” she said, signaling her authorization.
With a quiet hum, the machine began the precision fabrication of an intricate four-gen crystal lattice.
Chapter 20
Alex watched Juice and Criss work together in perfect harmony—he anticipating her needs, guiding her, supporting her, enabling her.
Juice swiped the main panel on the crystal growth chamber and studied the display. “It’s developing well,” she said, pointing to something for Criss to see.
She doesn’t see him as the projected image of an AI crystal, thought Alex, fascinated by the intimacy of their relationship.
With the crystal growth chamber humming away, Criss turned his attention to the ICEU. Putting his hands on his hips, he announced, “Now this is a work of art.”
“Thanks,” said Alex, welcoming the chance to be included. He looked at Juice as he spoke. “I spent six months on this baby. It turns out that pulling the matrix out of one crystal and laying it into another is more difficult than you might think.” Flustered, he blushed. “Well, you would know. But most people wouldn’t.” You are a prize idiot.
Juice rescued him. “Would you walk us through it?”
His presentation took twenty minutes, and at the end Juice looked at Criss. “What do you think?”
“I think Alex did an excellent job. I compliment him for his ingenuity and resourcefulness.”
“Ouch.” She looked at Alex. “First, let me say that every time I do anything, Criss has to fix it. So don’t feel bad when he makes suggestions.” She rested a hand on his arm. “And when he starts his suggestions with broad compliments like he just did, he’s about to tear you apart. Sorry.”
Criss then began a focused conversation with Juice. Together they discussed and debated as she tapped and swiped a string of modifications into the ICEU supervisor. Alex tried to follow along with what they were doing, but when he realized that Criss and Juice held a second conversation he couldn’t hear, he gave up.
By the time Criss announced he was done, Alex had moved to a chair on the opposite side of the lab from Ruga. Sitting there, he felt both miffed and dejected over their dismissal of his work.
“What do you think?” Juice asked in a cheery voice. She walked over and tugged on his arm. “C’mon. This is still your brainchild.”
“Hardly,” he said, rising from the chair. But he thrilled at her attention and was anxious to salve his wounds. Before he reached the machine, though, Ruga called from behind, “Show me.”
Ruga didn’t move, but a heartbeat later, he announced, “Good.”
Alex could not see that Ruga and Criss had taken an extensive tour of the ICEU from the inside, visiting every link and connect, and reviewing every method and procedure. But he did see Ruga shift his gaze to Juice and say, “I encourage you to run a trial before tomorrow night.”
Then he looked at Alex. “Larry will stay and help.” The synbod froze and then reanimated with a serene smile.
Alex turned to Juice, but instead of finding someone to share his anxiety, he saw her turn away and begin a private conversation with Criss. Annoyance fed his unease when he heard her side of the conversation, which sounded like a whispered list of directives. “Yes. There. More. Next. Got it. Yup.”
After a dozen more clipped syllables, she turned to Alex. “Criss has started a test on the ICEU that will take hours to complete. Why don’t we wait in your private office?”
Having never experienced anything like this recent swirl of events, Alex jumped at the chance to move to a quiet place where he could collect his thoughts. But when he and Juice slumped onto the loveseat, he learned that his wild ride had not ended.
“Sid, Cheryl, and Criss are about to create a battle plan,” said Juice. “At some point, they will assign me a task. They wonder if you would be willing to help with mine or even accept a task of your own.”
“Sure. Whatever.” He shifted his knees so they pointed toward the door and cleared his throat with a nervous squeak. “Will it be dangerous?”
The others appeared be
fore she could answer, and Alex found himself in the middle of a fascinating—and frightening—exchange.
Seated next to Cheryl, Sid started speaking the moment his projected image resolved. “When Ruga goes under, we sound the alarm and get everyone to safety.” He touched Cheryl’s knee. “You okay to lead that?”
Cheryl, already reviewing emergency evacuation plans on a private display with Criss, responded without lifting her eyes. “Way ahead of you, love.”
Sid continued, “While that happens, Criss shuts down all the synbods, taking them out of the equation. He spoofs feeds to Lazura and Verda to keep them occupied while he breaks into the secure area. There, he locates and disables the traps.” Sid shifted his gaze to Criss. “I trust you can fill in the details?”
“Way ahead of you, love,” Criss deadpanned.
Sid didn’t pause, though his mouth flickered up at the edges. “I’m going to make my way out to the mine, and when Criss has control, I’ll pluck the Triada from their consoles. That will stop them once and for all.”
A habit learned as a youth, Alex raised his hand just before he spoke. “Don’t underestimate Lazura.”
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t know if she’s involved in Ruga’s plan, but I’ve worked with her enough to know that she looks out for herself and plans with care. She’ll be well protected and will have both offensive and defensive capabilities. Expect impressive resistance, that’s all I’m saying.”
“What about Verda?”
“If you can get past Ruga and Lazura, then Verda will not be a problem.”
“Are we covered, Criss?” asked Sid.
“My forecasts have factored in a strong showing from Lazura and Verda. We are covered.”
Looking at Alex, Sid continued, “Earlier you asked Ruga about his console and he got angry. So first, good job on that.”
Pleased by the encouragement, Alex nodded. “He will want a console that is four-gen capable so he can flex his new abilities.”
“What are his options?” Sid asked Criss.
“There’s a four-gen console on the scout,” said Criss. “But I occupy it and have no intention of giving it up. I made sure the Venerable is four-gen capable as a backup plan for my own security, and again, since I need it, he can’t have it. I haven’t located anything beyond those two options.”
Crystal Rebellion Page 18