Juice pulled out a rucksack tucked at her waist and, unfolding the bag as she walked, moved toward the units. The faint layer of dust that covered the first two consoles remained undisturbed. She moved past them and pointed to marks and smudges on the third. “These must be from when Larry came and got Ruga.”
“Agreed,” said Alex, leaning in for a closer look. “And since we left him in the ICEU, this should be empty.”
Tapping the front panel, Juice signaled for access, and as the lid slid back, the room brightened. Standing on her tiptoes, she looked inside. “So far so good,” she said to the empty cradle.
Alex looked around the room when she said that, his anxious behavior adding to her unease. “How is it that there are no defenses? With Lazura, I’d expect something like in those horror shows where arrows shoot from the wall or the floor opens up as we try to escape.”
She laughed, but the thought gave her goose bumps. “I’m sure there were. Criss cleaned the place before he left. He’s too protective to let anything bad happen to me.” She changed the subject by moving to the center console. “Any guesses on who this is?”
“Is it possible to tell without powering them up?”
She swiped the console panel and the lid slid back. “Look!” she chirped, excited to see a mesh-covered ball. Addressing Alex’s question, she said, “They have different reflection delays. Criss showed me that. But it’s a really technical concept and he’s the only one I know of who might be able to tell.”
Releasing the cup latch, she reached in, positioned her hand over the top of the ball, and ever so gently lifted the fist-sized lump free of the cup. Holding it upright in front of her, she wiggled the ball to coax the connective mesh wrap—the mesh the crystal used to link with everything—to drop free.
“We should be in a clean-room for this,” she said as the wrap material slid back to expose a dazzling Kardish crystal. She turned the crystal to inspect it, the motion adding to the brilliant display of color.
“Wow. I didn’t expect to see a four-gen.” Holding it higher so Alex had a better view, she pointed to a tiny bump on the crown of the crystal. “It has a surface nib. A rookie fabricated this.”
Alex nodded. “I’ve ruined a few that way.”
“Me too. An imperfection like this will seriously hurt cognition potential. No wonder Criss could dominate so easily.”
She turned her hand over and swirled the crystal so the mesh fell back over the ball. At the same time, Alex held open a small clean-pouch for her. “The Kardish are crystal experts, though. I have to think they put it there for a purpose. Otherwise, why didn’t they just grind it up and try again until the rookie got it right?”
She set the crystal, mesh and all, inside the pouch. When Alex closed it, the lining material inside activated to pull contamination—dirt, dust, oils—to the pouch walls, securing their prize in a pristine environment.
Then, in unrehearsed but flawless teamwork, Juice held open the rucksack while Alex placed the clean-pouch inside.
“Perfect.” He gave her a wink. “That was fun. Can I do the next one?”
She nodded, her cheeks lifting with her smile. “I can honestly say I won’t ever forget this day.”
After repeating the procedure on the last console with roles reversed, Lazura and Verda were safe in the rucksack and Juice and Alex stood at the base of the ladder.
“You go first,” said Juice. “I’d feel safer following.”
Her motive wasn’t safety—the ladder had passive-restraint systems. Her real concern was fitness and she’d fibbed to protect his ego. An experienced runner who trained every day, she guessed she could scramble to the top of the ladder in under twenty seconds if she pushed herself. Alex was more hobby-fit and would need several minutes to reach the top. Since he moved slower, he should be the one setting their pace.
“Okay. But stay close.”
He surprised Juice by reaching the top without stopping. Standing on the surface, she stroked his arm and waited for his face to fade from its bright red color.
“That was an impressive pace,” she reassured him.
“Thanks,” he said, his hands on his knees as he gulped for air. Drawing himself upright, he asked between breaths, “Want to see if we can take a surface trawler back? You should ride one at least once while you’re here.”
She looked down and paused, a habit she’d developed to give Criss a moment to interject if he had concerns. Flustered by the silence in her head, she went with her gut, “Sounds fun. Lead the way.”
Accessing his com as he walked, Alex led them through a muscular security door, and then another, and then through a regular door and out into the hallway.
“I’m linked again,” he said, checking their position. “Garage is this way.”
She followed him down a narrow hall that ended at a broad passageway. Alex slowed to check directions, and as she stepped forward into the corridor, she heard a voice call out.
“There they are!”
The sharp bark came from Juice’s left and sounded all-business. A man in a brown tunic gestured to her from the far end of the corridor. Turning, she waved to him.
“This guy is looking for us,” she told Alex, who stepped out next to her.
“This way,” the man shouted back over his shoulder. His tone sounded aggressive, but he just stood there, hands at his sides, looking in their direction.
Then a second man stepped into the hallway. Positioned behind the first, this one carried an energy rifle.
Adrenaline spilled through Juice’s veins as he swung the rifle in her direction. Believing the two were security guards who had mistaken them for trespassers, she called out, “We have permission…oof.”
Before she could complete her sentence, Alex tackled her. In an action that seemed surreal as it unfolded, he kicked off the far wall, swung his arm across her midsection, and thrust her backward into the side passageway. Tripping over her own feet, she stumbled and fell in a heap.
“Oof,” she said again when Alex, himself airborne from his defensive maneuver, fell on top of her.
Bzzt-crack. The energy bolt from the rifle edged around the corner and hit the wall, forming a crater closer to them than physics would seem to allow.
Alex scrambled off her and started down the hall. “Come on. This way!”
Scared and confused, she crawled after him. “What’s happening?”
Neither of them knew about the sparkles Lazura had sprinkled during her fight with Criss, or that they had assembled in a dozen different places to deliver as many messages. One had gone to these two toughs, Lazura’s most loyal enforcers in the Tech Assembly. Like Ruga, she’d promised them fantasy lives. Here, though, it was in exchange for her rescue.
But somehow, Alex made the connection. “It’s Lazura,” he said. “I knew this was too easy.”
He turned a corner, rose to his feet, and helped her stand. “Are you all right?” He didn’t wait for her answer. As soon as she was up, he ducked through a door along the hall, motioning for her to follow.
“But she’s deactivated,” said Juice, struggling to understand Alex’s reasoning. “She’s in my pack.”
“Privacy,” Alex barked at the door when it shut behind them. It would now ask for a reason before letting others pass. Turning, he angled across the room to the side door. “The guy with the gun is Derrick Hanley. The other is Rocko something.”
Juice followed him as he rushed through to the next room.
“Privacy,” he called over his shoulder as they hustled through what looked like a storage area. He explained without slowing. “Lazura ran her own mini-security squad inside the Tech Assembly, and those two led it. I know them because they’d hang around at gatherings and intimidate people with their gangster-tough attitude. Up to now, I just thought they were world-class assholes.” He led her through the far door and into the next room. “But without question, they’re Lazura’s goons. This is her.” Checking directions, he pointed to the far d
oor. “We’re almost to the utility tunnel. I say we run for it back to the colony.”
She’d never seen his take-charge side before and liked it, especially now that she needed help. Drawing strength from his demeanor, she nodded. “I don’t want to stay here, that’s for sure.”
She followed him through another room, then held her breath as they ran in a crouched formation down a short hallway. Once inside the airlock, she looked at the containment door out to the utility tunnel and uttered a concern she’d been harboring. “We can’t outrun energy bolts.”
“Yeah,” he said, scanning the tools and supplies that hung around a service bot positioned just inside the door. “I’m realizing that now.” Reaching forward, he plucked a spool of wire from the wall and held it up like he’d won a prize. “This is the best I got.”
Once in the tunnel, Alex knelt down and tied the wire to a leg of the support rack that carried pipe along the wall. Moving quickly, he unspooled enough wire to reach the other side of the tunnel and, pulling it tight at ankle level, he wedged the spool into a rock crevice.
After hammering the spool into the crack with his palm, he leaned down and plucked the taut line. A deep thrum resonated off the tunnel walls. Standing, he caught her eye. “I don’t know what else to do but run.”
Juice signaled her agreement by leading the way in a dash for their lives. Fear and panic sent her mind in a swirl, yet she found herself fretting about whether she was setting a pace that Alex could maintain.
And then she saw a faint flash of light in the tunnel ahead. She wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her, and then she saw it again. Someone, or something, was headed their way from the colony.
Putting a hand on Alex’s arm, she pulled him to a stop and pointed. Growing in brightness and frequency, the flashes were unmistakable.
“Should we go back?”
Behind them, lights switched on, bathing the area near the containment door in bright illumination.
Trapped.
Alex motioned for her to hide under the pipe support rack along the wall. Blank to ideas, she dropped to the ground, crawled under, and sat with her back pressed against the rock. A support brace gave her marginal cover in the direction of the mining complex. Whoever approached from the colony, however, would see her unobstructed.
Then Alex crouched down and backed in, his tall, lanky frame pressing her against the wall. When he finished positioning himself, a flood of emotions—awe, respect, love—humbled her. He’d positioned himself so he was out front, exposing himself to the danger as he shielded her with his body.
“Sit tight,” he whispered over his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
Putting a hand on his shoulder, she wiggled up and kissed him on the back of his neck, the scent of him energizing her. She went to kiss him again but instead froze.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
She heard the boots in the dirt and realized that the flashes of light approaching from the direction of the colony danced in hypnotic rhythm to the sound. And then they dissolved into a shadowy silhouette.
Spiked hair bouncing and jewelry swinging, Bobbi Lava emerged from the shadows. She stopped, squared in front of them, and lifted her arm.
That’s when Juice saw the weapon on Bobbi’s wrist.
Bobbi leveled the weapon at Alex and met his gaze. Her eyes shifted when she noticed Juice wedged tight against the wall.
Stepping to the side, Bobbi crouched and pointed the firearm right at Juice’s head. Holding it steady, her eyes flitted from Juice to Alex and back. Then she stood up straight and dropped her arm to her side. “You aren’t part of the treasure hunt?”
Slunk. The containment door cycled open and Derrick and Rocko stepped out.
“Ah,” said Bobbi in a knowing fashion. Lifting her arm, she pointed the firearm toward Lazura’s thugs.
Bzzt. Her weapon flared. Twin bolts of energy flashed out, hitting each man in the chest. As one, they fell limp to the ground and remained still.
Bobbi screamed, shaking her hand like it was on fire. “Off! Stop! Halt!” She looked at the thugs lying still on the ground and her face contorted into a mask of horror.
And then she slumped to the ground, whimpering.
Juice wiggled out from behind Alex and crouched next to Bobbi, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I am so stupid.” She looked in the direction of the downed men and then poked at the latch on her firearm. “Are they okay?”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” said Juice, reasonably certain they weren’t. She helped Bobbi remove the weapon and, taking great care, placed it in the rucksack next to the crystals.
“I’m looking for a guy named Sid,” Bobbi said, her voice plaintive. “Do you know him?”
“Did he say he’d be here?” asked Alex.
“He promised me a treasure hunt game followed by drinks and dinner.” She perked up from her funk for a moment. “I wonder if he likes to dance?”
Connecting eyes with Alex, Juice prodded her, “You’re on a treasure hunt?”
“He said he’d programmed that thing to light up green when I pointed it at the person with the next clue.” Eyes unfocused and face slack, she said in a discouraged voice, “He’s not coming. I can tell.” She hit her fist on her thigh and bowed her head.
Hooking Bobbi’s arm, Juice helped her stand. Sorry, sister, but this isn’t the place to grieve. She signaled to Alex with a tilt of her head and together they started toward the colony.
“You can walk with us,” she called to Bobbi.
“Thanks.” Bobbi scurried to catch up.
“Do you want us to deliver a message if we see this Sid character?” Alex asked.
Bobbi thought for several long strides and then nodded. “Yeah. Tell him it’s his loss.” She smoothed the front of her blouse. “And tell him I looked great.”
Chapter 27
“Got you!” Pleasure exploded through Criss’s matrix, the sensation so intense he paused to savor it. Then he shifted resources to confirm the result.
His old synbod unit stored on Lunar Base had just signaled. A crystal had been placed inside it, Criss’s hidden logic snare had executed as it should, and now the crystal showed a null matrix. Dead. Repeated analyses confirmed that the crystal had a four-gen lattice. Ruga.
He’d changed Criss’s life, all for the bad, and Criss was ecstatic his nightmare was over. Because of Ruga, instead of working to make civilization stronger so his leadership could thrive, Criss had to focus his attention on one task—stopping the rogue AI.
And Ruga’s successes had sparked self-doubt in Criss. Failure meant the end of everything. Knowing this, and knowing he had no good answers, created intense personal pressure.
As he leaped his awareness to Lunar Base—its proximity to Earth making it a single jump—he scanned his logic snare for signs of tampering. Finding no anomalies, he lowered his vigilance just enough to relax the worst of his tensions.
Stretched on a table and dressed in a khaki outfit popular with private lunar contractors, a fifty-year-old Criss doppelgänger looked upward with a vacant expression. Two service bots tended the body and Criss directed them to remove the crystal.
Tingles of impatience nagged his outer tendrils as the bots rolled the synbod over onto its stomach and loosened its clothing. Having fabricated the crystal, Criss could confirm Ruga’s identity down to the position of specific atoms in the lattice, and he intended to do so using analyzers he had on standby down the hall.
Set between the shoulder blades on the synbod’s upper back, a flap lifted along a barely visible seam of skin. A bot reached into the body cavity, teased off the connective mesh, and lifted a small faceted ball from the cradle. As it raised the crystal into the light, the rare material shimmered with a rainbow brilliance.
No. Criss’s image in the room whispered the word as ice gripped his core. The bot held a rudimentary two-gen. Criss didn’t need sophisticated instruments to confi
rm it. He could tell from across the room.
Flummoxed, he checked his logic snare, turning it off, then on, then off again. Indeed, it worked as he’d designed it. Which meant Ruga had chosen to use a tremendous fraction of his resources and override a billion realities to create an elaborate fantasy. Just to fool me for a few moments.
The cold inside him fed his anger, and that helped him focus on motive. The answer was obvious. Misdirection.
Criss didn’t hesitate. Diving in a barely controlled plunge back to Earth, he pulsed a hard sweep across all web access points, looking for new activity at the boundaries. The sweep showed all clear, but his relief was short lived. A subtle surge rippled across his feeds. It hit all of them, all at once. And then it was gone.
He’s inside.
Like a one-two punch, Criss’s world changed again. Ruga now lurked in his own backyard, hiding somewhere in the enormous tangle that connected all of civilized society. He launched a search for his quarry while at the same time fighting a rising fear. Imposing control over his emotions, he shifted his awareness to Juice’s office to update his leadership.
He stood across from Sid and Cheryl, who sat next to each other on a couch. Their strategy for the next hours was to wait in Juice’s office until either Ruga made a play at Crystal Sciences or until developments gave them a reason to be somewhere else.
“You said you were watching it.” The edge in Sid’s voice cut at Criss’s already bruised psyche.
“He used my vigilance to his advantage.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Why don’t we just start approaching everything like it’s a trick?” asked Cheryl. “Then this sort of thing won’t keep happening.”
That comment hurt Criss more than anything Sid had said. While she was trying to be helpful, Cheryl’s words conveyed that he not only had been making mistakes, but had made too many of them, and perhaps it was because he hadn’t taken a proper defensive stance.
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