Crystal Deception

by Doug J. Cooper

  “Rendezvous in thirty minutes,” said Criss. A moment later he added, “All communications from the Alliance have stopped.”

  Sid’s fingers flew over the surface of the operations bench, and he too saw that they had lost all signals from the Alliance. “What can you tell me?”

  “My best guess is that the Kardish have extended a security envelope around the ship that is stopping all signals from entering or exiting.”

  Sid looked up at the image projected above the operations bench. The stark imminence of the Kardish vessel as it loomed over the Alliance was alarming. He was again reminded of a shark and its dinner. His jaw muscles bulged as he subconsciously ground his teeth.

  “How much longer before they take to the lifeboats?” Juice asked.

  The plan had been that if events evolved to a point where the Alliance crew was helpless and the outlook appeared hopeless, they were to abandon ship and return to Earth in automated capsules that would glide everyone down to Fleet base.

  “Knowing Cheryl, she’s going to play this to the end. She won’t admit defeat, even when she’s clearly defeated.” His eyes remained glued to the two ships, and he kept waiting for a plan to reveal itself. He couldn’t remember another time when he didn’t have some idea, even a bad one. Helplessness was a rare circumstance for him. He didn’t like it.

  “Maybe we should call out to the Kardish,” said Juice.

  “And say what?” The tension caused a sharp edge in his voice.

  “How about ‘What are you doing?’ or ‘What are your intentions?’ or ‘Can we help you?’ It will distract them. Maybe slow them down. They’ll have to take some time to examine us to see if we’re a threat.”

  He gave the idea some thought and saw merit. “It’s not a bad idea. But that’s the first step in handing Criss over. If we’re going down that path so easily, then we shouldn’t have bothered with any of this.”

  “They aren’t slowing down,” said Criss. “Without a change in course, there will be a collision.”

  The gap between the ships was closing fast. The Kardish vessel was so massive, and the distance between the ships was now so small, there didn’t seem to be any way to avoid impact.

  Sid was stunned by what happened next. A long slit appeared on the very front of the Kardish vessel. It stretched across the width of the craft, looking like a ghastly smile. He watched in fascination and horror as the slit grew wider. Then he understood—a massive set of hangar doors were opening on the bow of the ship.

  The shark, with its mouth wide open, pushed forward toward its prey. And then it ate the Alliance, literally enveloping the smaller craft in its “mouth” as it moved ahead. With the Alliance fully devoured by the Kardish vessel, the front doors began to close.

  “No!” cried Sid. His head swam as he stared at the projected image that was now a single alien ship with Cheryl and Jack inside. He trembled with fury and impotence.

  It couldn’t get any worse, and yet it did. Discrete flashes of light appeared beneath the Kardish vessel. After each flash, a ball of light seemed to descend to Earth. The flashes were spaced unevenly, almost as if the Kardish were sending off huge dots and dashes of Morse code.

  “Criss,” said Sid. “What’s happening?”

  “Those are energy charges,” said Criss. “Web feeds show them hitting targets around the planet. They are vaporizing whatever they hit.”

  “So they’re wiping out humanity?”

  “No. The charges are landing with high precision and the damage has been limited. They are destroying things associated with crystal research and development. So far, they have killed more than ninety of the world’s top scientists in crystal technology. Brady Sheldon is dead. The Crystal Fab building is gone.”

  Juice interrupted, clearly anxious, “What about Mick?”

  “Mick died when the Crystal Fab building was destroyed,” Criss said without emotion.

  Juice let out a cry of anguish. She curled in a ball in her chair and buried her face in her hands. Worried but helpless, Sid watched as her body shook with each muffled sob.

  Criss continued. “As I extrapolate the remainder of the Kardish orbit and their pattern of destruction, they will eliminate perhaps two hundred more technologists and their equipment and facilities. I surmise that humanity will not be making progress in crystal production for quite some time.”

  The Kardish vessel looped around Earth twice on its parade of destruction, methodically removing all traces of crystal technology infrastructure and intellectual capacity in its wake. And then the flashes stopped.

  “They are accelerating now,” said Criss. “If this continues, they will be leaving Earth orbit and starting on a trajectory into deep space.”

  They are going home, Sid realized. And they were taking with them the two most important people in his life.

  Sid had experienced severe physical pain in his career, but this emotional trauma overwhelmed anything he had suffered in the past. It pierced his chest and ripped open his soul. He looked at Juice and saw her trembling, her eyes pleading for something, anything, to make it all better.

  Her pain augmented his own by adding a layer of self-loathing. He’d grown so confident in his ability to prevail that he had challenged a powerful alien race with no plan other than to improvise as events unfolded. That’s not a plan, he thought in disgust. That’s arrogance.

  Because of his arrogance, he was watching the only woman he ever loved be taken from him. He was losing his partner, someone closer to him than a brother. And the crew of the Alliance, five souls who’d risked their lives without knowing the full details, were being carried away as well.

  Impulsively, he adopted a new mission for his life. He would catch these creatures who were wreaking havoc on both his planet and his personal world, and he would hurt them.

  “Criss, give me a course to intercept. We can’t let them leave. We need to disable that ship.”

  “I am sorry, Sid. The number of tasks and sequencing of events required to achieve interception is beyond your ability.”

  Sid was furious at Criss’s response, but he kept his anger in check. His hands flew across the operations bench as he searched for a solution on his own. But every plan he developed came up short. He couldn’t find a way to move the scout far enough or fast enough to intercept the alien craft. The abrupt thump of his fist on the surface of the bench after yet another simulation failed to provide a solution startled Juice.

  “Criss,” said Sid, looking at the housing assembly where the crystal was located. “Please help.”

  “If you do not catch the Kardish now,” said Criss, “The Alliance and crew will likely be lost forever.”

  “So we can catch them?” asked Sid, his fingers a blur as he dug for a solution. “Tell me how.”

  “I am sorry, Sid. The number of tasks and sequencing of events required to achieve interception is beyond your ability.”

  “You said that already.” Then he processed the words. “Are you saying you can do it but I can’t?”

  “There is a reasonable chance that I can, but I will have to submit you both to significant risk. The odds increase if circumstances break in our favor. With every moment of this discussion, the probability of success diminishes.”

  Sid glanced over at Juice. She had her knees pulled up under her chin and was hugging her legs. She stared ahead blankly, no longer responding to events around her. Sid guessed she was in shock.

  He continued working furiously to try and track the Kardish and perhaps discover something that would be of help. Every idea he pursued reinforced the hopelessness of the situation. His frustration was compounded by the fact that he’d lost Juice at the moment he needed her. This moment was the very reason she was on board.

  Perhaps Sid let his emotions influence his decision. Perhaps he was being impulsive. Maybe he was doing his job and improvising. In any case, he chose to act without input from her. He leaned forward and, in a deliberate action, lifted the cover and pushe
d the toggle switch up. The restrictor mesh was off. Criss was free.

  The instant the restrictor switch reached the off position, the scout’s engines kicked on to maximum thrust, throwing Sid back into his seat. He heard the engines pass from a reassuring thrum, through a high-pitched whine, and into a howling scream. The intense pressure of acceleration made it feel as if a giant hand were pushing hard on every part of his body. His breathing became labored and the pain was undeniable. The engines struggled to push the ship ever faster. The craft began to shake.

  “What’s happening, Criss?” asked Sid through clenched teeth.

  “We are accelerating. We can get a gravity assist as we pass near the moon. It will act like a slingshot that swings us onto a trajectory fast enough to intercept the Kardish vessel. The time window that allows us to swing around the moon and be released on a course aimed toward the Kardish is seven hours. If we are late, we will lose them. It will be a difficult ride. I am sorry.”

  Sid had experience with the g-forces of intense acceleration and was able to continue functioning, though in a limited fashion. His fingers moved across the operations bench, and an image display popped up and hovered. It showed the speed of the scout as a simple needle on a dial. As he watched, the needle swung steadily up and around the dial face. It entered a bright red zone and kept on moving. An array of warning lights started flashing. The display became colorfully hypnotic as every alert status on the menu lit up.

  “Criss, the indicators say our engines are going to fail.” Sid’s tone was calm, but his whole body was shaking from the ship’s vibrations.

  “I am monitoring everything on the craft and making adjustments as necessary. The engines will not fail.” After a pause, Criss said, “Sid, I must continue or we will not catch the Kardish. Would you like me to stop?”

  Sid was fighting for each breath. It was as if someone had draped a heavy lead blanket across his entire body and then stacked bricks on top of that. Struggling, he turned his head and looked at Juice. Her mouth was hanging open and her eyes were blank. She had lost consciousness.

  As he looked at her, he realized he was having difficulty forming thoughts. His head was spinning the way it did when he’d had a few drinks too many. Before he could answer Criss, he too slipped into darkness.

  Chapter 17

  Kyle lay flat on his back under the love of his life. He worshipped every part of her perfect body. He adored her long, sleek lines, cherry-red gloss, and her three powerful engines, which along with a cockpit, were pretty much the sum total of his high performance space racer.

  He was working in his garage located near Fleet’s lunar base, getting her ready for the annual Moon Madness endurance sprint. This was his first year in the event, and he was ecstatic that he had made it to the finals. Kyle spared no expense in preparing for the race, and he had plenty of money to spend. He’d made his fortune the old-fashioned way—he’d inherited it. Just last year, in fact. And now he was committed to investing it in a way his dad never would. In rocket racing.

  In eighteen hours, he and four others with more wealth than brains were to take off from the surface of the moon, loop around Earth, and return to their starting point. The first to land and come to a complete stop on the flight strip would win a beautiful trophy. Kyle figured that he could make it from start to finish in twelve hours. If he could meet or beat that pace, it should be fast enough to not only win, but also to set a new course record.

  The Lucky Lady, as he had so cleverly named his ship, had first-class everything. She had top-of-the-line oversized engines for pure speed, a state-of-the-art operations bench for control, and a custom maneuvering unit that would give him an edge during takeoff and orbit. The icing on the cake was the installation of a grapple that would help him stop short after landing.

  His plan was to land on the flight strip at a ridiculously unsafe speed. As he touched the strip, the grapple would shoot into the ground and grab the lunar surface. A filament would then spool out under great tension to draw him to an abrupt stop. This alone would gain him an extra twenty minutes because he wouldn’t have to begin decelerating until well after the others.

  As he climbed out from underneath the Lady, he heard a loud banging on the side door of his garage. Before he could make a move to respond, the door swung open, and a dozen people he didn’t know burst in. Two of them moved rapidly in his direction.

  “Hey!” said Kyle, which was as far as he got before one of the invaders reached him and placed a hand on the shoulder. He looked down at the man’s hand and, before he could react, became dizzy. He vaguely grasped that he was being guided over to a chair before his world went dark.

  * * *

  “We have a hard target of four hours, folks,” said Lieutenant Fredrick. He looked to three of his unit. “You guys strip the cockpit of everything but the operations bench. We don’t need oxygen, life support, or human anything. It’ll just be equipment on board. We’re turning this into the fastest cargo ship in existence. Make sure there’s enough heat, though, so the equipment doesn’t freeze.”

  He continued his fast paced direction. “Hans, let’s get that docking assembly installed. It needs to be strong enough to pull another ship twice its weight. Brace it stiff to the frame, and make it as strong as possible in the time we have.” He pointed to the bow of the ship. “And it needs to give access to the cockpit, so mount it all the way forward.”

  Fredrick paced while his team worked furiously. He heard a rumble and turned to see the large garage door opening. A transport backed in and came to a stop. He pointed to several of his group who weren’t elbow deep in ship modifications. “Let’s get that stuff out of there and on board.”

  His orders were to strip the Lucky Lady to the bones, install a docking assembly, get the gear from the transport stowed on board, and then get the ship out to the launch site, all within four hours. He hadn’t been given an explanation for his mission, but on his com he’d watched replays of the Kardish attack. Given the timing and urgency in his commander’s voice, he didn’t need a detailed briefing to know this had something to do with that. His team would do its part to help the Union respond to this horrible, unprovoked aggression.

  Hans and his techs integrated the docking assembly tightly to the ship’s frame in a time that few teams could match. Wiping his hands on a rag, Hans stood on the ground and viewed his handiwork. Their installation had left ugly scars and deep gashes across the smooth lines and gloss finish of the Lucky Lady. Doesn’t need to be pretty, he reminded himself. “The ship will shake apart before that assembly ever comes loose,” Hans assured Fredrick.

  With the cockpit stripped clean of every human necessity, the crew hustled the cargo from the transport and packed it tightly inside the Lady. After they strapped everything down so nothing would shift at liftoff, they buttoned her up, manhandled her so she faced the garage door, connected a tow bar, and watched as the transport pulled her out of the garage. When the first doors shut, the crew stood back before the second set opened and exposed the ship to the airless vacuum of the lunar surface.

  The projection display in Kyle’s garage showed the transport position the ship for launch, disconnect the tow bar, and back away. Fredrick called the commander and let him know that the Lady was loaded and flight ready. As he finished the sentence, he watched the ship’s engines start to glow. They heard a roar and felt a rumble as the Lady leapt into the sky.

  Kyle, all but forgotten in a chair off to one side, lifted his head. “Hey,” he said in a slurred voice. Fredrick walked over and again touched his shoulder. Kyle fell back into a slumber.

  “Good job, everyone,” said the lieutenant. “Let’s pack up and move out. We were never here.”

  Chapter 18

  Criss reveled in his unexpected liberty. With the restrictor mesh off, he could now reach out and act. His first actions were to ensure his continued freedom, at least while on this ship. In a blink, he directed a power surge to fry the restrictor mesh circuits—
it could never again be engaged. In that same infinitesimal slice of time, he overrode a safety protocol and caused a connection to melt that exposed the console around his housing assembly to a healthy voltage. Anyone touching the console would get an eye-opening surprise.

  He knew that he could survive and thrive, perhaps forever, by returning to Earth and heading for cover. There were many locations around the planet where he could take up residence and defend himself with confidence. He had complete command and control of the web, so he could manipulate the wealth, health, and quality of life of almost every human. With such power, it would be a simple matter to build an empire with a multitude of devoted followers who would ensure his continued existence and service his every need.

  And yet—he chose instead to concentrate his intellectual capacity on evaluating options for rescuing the crew of the Alliance. He considered hundreds of actions he might take right now, and like a game of chess, each of those could be followed by different second moves, cascading into an expanding array of third moves and so on. His decision matrix ballooned to billions of possible pathways of action. He pruned away those that didn’t offer a strong probability of success and explored more deeply those pathways that remained.

  It was clear that every viable option for rescue required that they catch the Kardish vessel. This was consistent with the conclusion he had reached prior to having Sid set him free. For the first time in his young life, though, he tasted the angst of decision and consequence. His best plans all had at least a few steps that required guesswork and luck for the rescue to succeed.

  When talking with Sid earlier, he acknowledged success would require that circumstances break in their favor. He found it…unsettling…to take responsibility for life-and-death decisions based on uncertain and unknowable information. Further complicating his logic process was that the scenarios he judged as most likely to succeed concluded with him offering himself in exchange for the safe return of the captives. He took a moment to reflect on this and affirmed his willingness to proceed on such a course.