Crystal Deception

by Doug J. Cooper

  The three sat silently, their faces frozen. Three heartbeats passed. Cheryl said, “We lost six crew, sir, including Jack.”

  “Is there any chance even one of them got away with our crystal?”

  “Not a chance,” said Sid. “You have my word on that.”

  “Okay. We’re proud of you and welcome you home. Sit tight and the debrief team will be with you soon. I know you’ve been through a lot, so I’ll do what I can to keep the questioning short.” He paused and looked at each one of them in turn. “Thank you for your courageous efforts on behalf of the Union.” His image disappeared.

  * * *

  Criss knew the next minutes would decide much about his future.

  “Are we clear?” asked Sid.

  “Yes,” said Criss. “I am blocking all transmissions until I detect someone trying to reconnect. We may speak freely.”

  “Good,” said Juice. “What is it we just decided?”

  “I think we decided to take the next hour to discuss the future of humanity,” said Sid.

  She shook her head as though she was answering the question she was asking. “We’re about to be interrogated by professionals. Do we really think we can convince them Criss is gone?”

  “How about if we tell them that the four-gen is gone,” said Sid. “We don’t even broach the idea that there is a being named Criss.”

  “Sid,” said Cheryl. “I spoke personally to my dad and Admiral Keys about him. He’s not a secret.”

  “Okay,” said Sid. “Then how about if we all agree that he’s dead. We stick with the story that he was destroyed with the Kardish vessel.”

  Juice waved her arm toward where the images of the senator and secretary had been. “Even if we thought we could keep him a secret, didn’t what’s-his-name just say we’re going to be questioned privately? They’ll get us contradicting each other in no time. It’ll take them maybe two seconds to spot deception.”

  She leaned forward in her seat. “And how are we going to land this thing and sneak Criss off with no one seeing? And why would we want to deprive humanity of the amazing things he can give us? And do you really think he’ll sit by and let us put him on a shelf or whatever it is you’re talking about?” She slumped back in her chair and let her intensity deflate. She didn’t break eye contact with Sid, though.

  Cheryl assumed the role of a neutral party. “Criss, please guide us here. Tell us what, how, and why.”

  “May I ask you to indulge me?” As he said those words out loud, he spoke privately to Sid and Juice through their dots and to Cheryl through her speck. Then he asked the group, “What is your favorite number?”

  “One hundred and twenty three,” they said in unison.

  Criss spoke privately with them again, and then asked, “What is your favorite color?”

  “Mauve,” they all said.

  Sid laughed. “I don’t even know what mauve is.”

  “I think it’s sort of bluish gray,” said Cheryl.

  “Isn’t it more purple-y?” said Juice, her calm restored.

  “There is your answer to how,” said Criss. “I will be with each of you all the time. There will be no problem telling a consistent story that is largely the truth. We will have to simplify some of the storyline, but the spirit of what actually happened would remain.”

  “There’s going to be an image record of our debriefing,” said Cheryl. “It’ll be studied by lots of experts. Someone will eventually see their dots and my speck. I mean, there’s a chance anyway.”

  “The debriefing transmission must pass through the scout’s communications subsystem. I will clean up the image. There will be nothing to see.”

  He didn’t tell them he could create their debriefing interviews without them even being present. He could generate and transmit their image, put words in their mouths, and even overlay emotions. He could make their answers different enough to be plausible to experts, but uniform enough to be believed. He could create reality. But he wouldn’t to do so unless specifically directed.

  “Time is short,” said Juice. “So I’ll agree we can keep our story straight from up here. But this is more than changing a few small events in a report. We’re going to be landing later today. Techs will be crawling all over both ships. How do we explain the extra equipment on the scout? There’s a cloaking device and a communications patch that weren’t there when we left that black hangar. We have a new grapple hook attached to the bottom. And how are we able to fly the Kardish craft? Our web of lies will spiral in complexity really fast.”

  Just as Juice finished talking, they heard and felt a rumble. The scout shook. The event lasted no more than a second. It was as if they had bumped something.

  Juice didn’t flinch. She looked over at the crystal housing. “Is this an answer?”

  “It seems that you are not able to control this alien craft as completely as you first believed,” said Criss. “The craft will be entering Earth’s atmosphere steep and fast. It will burn up like a meteor in a flaming descent. The scout will be lost as well.”

  “That’s solves a bunch of problems,” said Cheryl. “I’m hoping we won’t be riding down with it. Is there a plan for us?”

  “A Fleet patrol ship will meet you a few hours out from Earth. They will rescue you just in the nick of time. It will be quite dramatic. You will be safe.”

  Juice released her seat restraints and walked over to the crystal housing. She reached out to stroke the console. Criss ramped down the power he was running to it as her hand drew near. He kept it high enough, though, that a small spark leapt up and popped the fingers of her outstretched hand. She yanked her arm back.

  “Ow.” She sucked on her fingers and backed away. “If you don’t give me access, how can I take you with us?”

  “I will be staying with the scout.”

  “Wait,” said Sid. “What’re you saying?”

  “No worries,” said Criss.

  “Help me understand,” said Sid.

  “When you denied my existence, your instincts were correct. The world is ill-prepared for me. I am a prize to be possessed. There are people who will seek to control me because I can give them control over everything.

  “While on the Kardish vessel, I discovered I am a gatekeeper. That is the purpose of my being. I am designed to accept direction from my leadership, and once instructed, to use all of the resources and capabilities available to me to translate that direction into action.

  “As I look into the future, I realize you will be safer if I am gone. If I live, people will use you to get to me. They will stop at nothing. You will be in grave danger. This is the right thing for me to do. I ask only that you honor my memory by continuing to deny my existence.”

  Juice wouldn’t accept the decision. “If you stay with us, if you stay alive, we can connect you with whoever you want for your leadership. We’ll connect you with the president of the Union of Nations, or the director of the Academy of Scientists. Heck, we’ll find you a religious or a humanitarian leader if that’s what you want. Give us a chance. We’ll find leadership that is acceptable to you, and we’ll protect you from the crazies.”

  “I am sorry I did not make myself clear. My leadership is already defined.”

  “Who?” asked Juice. “And why does it even matter if, in the end, you’re all burned up?”

  “You three are my leadership. We are a team.”

  Juice looked over at the other two. There was a catch in her voice as she pleaded with him. “Yes, we are a team, Criss. Please stay with us.”

  Sid issued a command. “I approve your plan. You are to report to us when you feel secure, but you may wait no longer than four weeks.”

  Cheryl and Juice both looked at Sid, their expressions reflecting confusion over what had just happened.

  An image of an admiral appeared over the operations bench. “Welcome home!” he said with too much enthusiasm for the mood of the moment. “May I ask each of you to go to your quarters?”

  Chapter
35

  Criss was convinced that the battle with the Kardish was all but over. His projection analysis confirmed with near certainty that he and his team would be victorious. Given this, he thought it appropriate to reengage in his introspection and self-study activity.

  He reframed his analysis to explore the seemingly simple question: What comes next? He found the nature of the question to be so open-ended and a desired outcome to be so ill-defined that his decision matrix could not properly frame the question, let alone resolve it into an answer.

  He diverted more of his capability to the issue. He broadened his search for solutions and discovered that this very question had challenged humanity throughout history. A common pathway used by humans was to recast the question as an abstraction and pursue answers through philosophy and religion.

  His intellectual processes were not well-suited for abstraction. He was a gatekeeper. By design, he was to receive orders from his leadership and provide them solutions. He had wide latitude in translating orders into action. He now understood that this latitude was a form of free will. The depth and breadth of his freedom was becoming more apparent, and this led to an inner struggle for identity and purpose.

  The Kardish seemed aware that, though he was duty-bound to his leadership, a certain level of free will was embedded within his design, thus they had designed a method of keeping him in check that was simple and effective—enslave him using a drug-like addiction. As an addict, he would work hard to please them, because such behavior would ensure his next fix of pleasure. Existential questions, like “Why am I here?” and “What is my purpose?” never enter the consciousness of the addicted.

  He had no regrets about rejecting the Kardish life. Clear thinking and partnership promised more fulfillment than addiction and servitude. He acknowledged that teaming with humans would involve a much higher level of interaction with individuals than was normal for a Kardish gatekeeper. He would need to experiment and learn how best to succeed in this task.

  He thought back to how he had been caught unprepared when Sid knocked Cheryl unconscious. He had projected millions of progressions and outcomes for that rescue event, and none had predicted such a calamitous result.

  He recognized his prediction process remained flawed when it came to human behavior. He needed to enhance his methods to account for the actions of certain individuals, and in particular, Sid. He would experiment with including wild-card events in his decision matrix to see if that improved his accuracy.

  When he heard Sid calling to him about finding Jack and the cart, it sobered him. They weren’t home yet. He was ahead of himself in concluding that his job here was done.

  His first foray into wild-card planning occurred when he was selecting the cargo transport from among the inventory of Kardish spacecraft. He reflected on what he observed of Sid’s planning process, summarizing it as: make decisions now that maximize options in the future. Criss decided to test the method and weigh its strengths and weaknesses.

  So with the team inside the scout and unable to see events happening in the Kardish vessel, Criss launched a second cargo ship, loaded it with forty drones, and sent the second craft ahead on an aggressive dash toward earth. He did not have specific plans for the weapons, but he was certain that having them available would maximize his future options.

  While it was in flight, he searched for a place to store the craft. Because its value was in the options it offered him in the future, he sought a place where he could stow it, undiscovered and undisturbed, for perhaps decades.

  He selected a remote, mountainous region in South Asia with an antiquated infrastructure, widely scattered settlements, and few inhabitants, who shunned technology. It was a place so backward that health clinics were run by a cooperative of caregivers who walked between villages.

  Beyond the inhospitable and foreboding character of the region the feature that attracted Criss’s interest was a cave located high on a perilous cliff that faced the ocean. Its mouth was so inaccessible and naturally camouflaged that, from what he could tell, it had never before been visited by humans. The cave itself was deep enough that the Kardish craft would be sheltered from weather and hidden from view until such time as he called for it.

  The only evidence that the craft entered the cave that night was a flutter of birds who, moments later, returned to their roost. He set the craft on the floor at the back of the cave and powered it down. There it would remain, undisturbed, for a future time.

  He then began a search for his next home. His list of ‘must-haves’ was firm. He sought a bunker that was fortified to withstand devastating onslaughts from nature and war. He required power from multiple sources, including redundant internal backup systems. The room inside the bunker must have a controlled climate to prevent deterioration of sensitive components. Access to the room must be secured by formidable doors.

  After some deliberation, he concluded that the benefits of being near his team outweighed the security gained from being hidden in a remote and forbidding location. On a day-to-day basis, his location did not matter because he would be interacting with his team most often through conversation and image projection. But there would be times, especially when he was first establishing his sanctuary, when he would need the physical presence of people he trusted. On a practical level, this meant he must be close enough so any of the three could visit him and return home in an easy day of travel. It also meant that the motivation for that travel must appear as routine behavior to any who might be watching.

  He would not consider military installations. During times of peace, there would be many people around him who, if they discovered his existence, would seize him as a military asset. During times of war, the strategic value of the site would make it a priority target for the aggressor. He chose not to be located in what might someday become the focal point of an attack.

  He evaluated commercial and government vaults that secured items of wealth and privacy. While he found several that met the criteria on his must-have list, he concluded that he should not locate himself near items that served as an attraction for criminals and government agents.

  He weighed the idea of building a new facility. To be habitable in the near term, the project would require an extremely aggressive construction schedule. It did not seem plausible that he could divert the necessary workers, equipment, and materials for such a project without drawing unwanted public attention.

  And then Criss discovered the seed bank, a facility whose purpose was to stockpile a breadth of seeds that would give humanity a second chance in the event of a cataclysmic disaster. The charitable foundation that operated the seed bank described it as an insurance policy for humanity. With a survivalist’s mindset, the foundation stood prepared to help in the event of plant epidemics, drought, war, and similar catastrophes.

  The collection was hidden and protected in a complex of vaults buried beneath a geologically stable mountain. The vaults of the seed bank had a climate control system to protect the long-term viability of their treasure, and the climate system itself had multiple power sources to ensure it would always be working to protect the cache. Criss could not identify anyone who would invest time and effort trying to breach the security of this vault system just to gain access to seeds.

  He also valued that the seed bank was well camouflaged by being buried beneath a small working farm located in a forest clearing halfway up a mountain. The farm had a barn containing a stall that hid an impressive, fortified door, which provided access down to a secret network of underground seed vaults.

  The mountain itself was part of a huge forest preserve located north of the city that Sid, Cheryl, and Juice called home. The preserve had been established more than two hundred years earlier. At that time, a handful of developments already had a foothold in what was otherwise unspoiled splendor. These establishments remained under a grandfather clause that permitted their continued existence, but prohibited them from growth.

  One of these grandfathered develop
ments was the working farm on the south face of the mountain. Another was a small, exclusive vacation resort located in the valley below the farm. The resort provided first-class lodging and outdoor sports to the well-heeled.

  Because it catered to those of sizable wealth, the resort offered convenient transportation to and from the city. And given the sort of clients it attracted, it boasted an excellent communications system. Criss determined that, with little effort and without attracting attention, he could connect the farm and its vaults to the outside world through that infrastructure.

  With his sanctuary identified, Criss set about acquiring the farm and vaults beneath for himself. He learned that the charitable foundation that operated the seed bank was controlled by a wealthy family and was the pet project of the family patriarch, who believed it would be a wonderful legacy to leave to the world.

  Criss acquired the property in a whirlwind of deception. It took him just moments to tunnel inside the central financial system of the Union of Nations. Moments later, he had access to unlimited wealth.

  By nudging a few numbers on the family ledger, he was able to get the patriarch’s financial advisors into a state of panic over the impending collapse of the family fortune. He then used image projection to impersonate the patriarch’s old friend and original partner in the seed bank venture. Criss, posing as the friend, convinced the patriarch that he had a renewed interest in the project and would like to purchase the whole lot.

  The patriarch was unaware that, in fact, his dear friend was actually comatose and in the process of dying. He grasped the outstretched hand of providence, accepted his friend’s offer, and blessed his good fortune. His estate was preserved. He wouldn’t have to embarrass himself in front of his wife and children. And, truth be told, he was feeling too old to worry about saving the world anymore.

  The financial advisors never understood what happened in that period of days. They knew that the seed bank foundation and its assets were no longer on the books, the family fortune was again stable and intact, and their client was happy with the current state of affairs. This meant they would retain stewardship of the family account, so they were happy with the state of affairs as well.