Crystal Horizon: A Short Prequel to Crystal Deception

by Doug J. Cooper

  Crystal Horizon

  A Short Prequel to Crystal Deception

  Doug J. Cooper

  Crystal Horizon

  Copyright ©2015 by Doug J. Cooper

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Published by: Douglas Cooper Consulting

  Manuscript evaluation: Tammy Salyer

  Cover design: Damonza

  ISBN-10: 098993814X

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9899381-4-3

  Author website: www.crystalseries.com

  ~~~

  for Jim

  with thanks

  Table of Contents

  About the Prequel

  Crystal Horizon

  About Crystal Deception

  Crystal Series Web

  About the Prequel

  Hello and welcome!

  I like stories about people, and I particularly enjoy it when these people are engaged in adventures with aliens, spies, artificial intelligence, romance, and battles in space. But then again, who doesn’t?

  Crystal Deception is a science fiction thriller that includes everything from my list above, and this work, Crystal Horizon, is a prequel to that book.

  I wrote this short piece with two thoughts in mind. One was to give new readers a no cost opportunity to sample the larger story and meet a couple of characters from the series. Perhaps you’ll enjoy yourself so much, you’ll want to read the full length books?

  My second reason was to give current fans the backstory on Sid and Cheryl. This prequel takes place five years before the time of Crystal Deception, where we meet Cheryl as a captain of a military space cruiser and Sid as a covert warrior for the Defense Specialists Agency.

  We learn in Crystal Deception that Sid and Cheryl have a shared history and, in particular, a romantic relationship that has somehow gone awry. In this prequel, we join them on the day they first meet and we experience that history with them.

  I hope you have as much fun reading this mini-adventure as I did writing it.

  Enjoy!

  Doug J. Cooper

  PS: For more information about the Crystal series books, please visit: www.crystalseries.com.

  Crystal Horizon

  Sid climbed the steps of the aging fitness center and a shadowy flicker caused him to look up. Squinting, he contemplated the massive Kardish vessel—small to the naked eye—as it passed overhead in its orbit around Earth. Huge, silent, lingering, the alien spaceship had been a fixture in Earth’s sky for the past fifteen years.

  The Kardish had never done anything threatening or aggressive. In fact, it was their silence that made Sid wary. His intuition screamed that they would someday transition from visitor to enemy. He couldn’t see a different outcome.

  And that’s why he’d accepted an invitation to attend Fleet’s talent development school—a place called “camp” by those who knew of its existence.

  Stepping through the door at the top of the steps, a muscular instructor in a too-tight T-shirt caught Sid’s eye. “Welcome to camp, Lieutenant.” The instructor tapped a locker with his index finger. “Get into pads and move out to the floor.”

  It was his first day at the elite facility, and Sid took his time changing so he could absorb the rhythms of the place. He dressed in the flexsuit he found in the locker, then touched his toes, rotated his torso, and stretched his arms to confirm that the protective pads gave him a full range of motion. As he passed from the locker room out into a large hall, the same burly instructor handed him a wooden pole about as long as he was tall.

  “You’re with her,” he told Sid, nodding toward an attractive woman wearing similar gear. He pointed to an area on the far side of the room. “Take that spot. Warm up a bit. You’ll be sparring with each other in a few.”

  Sid and his sparring partner looped around the outside of the room to avoid the waving sticks of those who’d arrived ahead of them. They reached their destination and turned to face each other.

  “Hi. I’m Cheryl.”

  He nodded politely but remained silent, studying her calm resolve as she squared up in front of him. He judged her to be in her late twenties—same as him—and he could see enough of her face and figure through her pads to conclude she was not only pretty, but also had the tight body of a natural athlete.

  She held the stick in one hand like a spear, and her unpretentious manner disarmed him. It’s her first day, too, he thought. Go easy on her.

  The instructor clapped his hands. “Let’s spar, folks. Work up a sweat. Convince me that it’s real.”

  Cheryl threw some swats and jabs at Sid, and he blocked her stick in a series of practiced moves. The physical activity warmed his tall, broad-shouldered frame, and he welcomed the sensation.

  Sid’s priority was to learn everything he could about camp, so he went through the motions of defending himself while he scanned the room with his peripheral vision. He saw Captain Dooley chatting with a couple of instructors, and stopped his visual sweep to watch.

  Cheryl goaded him for his lack of effort. “C’mon, sport. Are we fighting or dancing?”

  When he didn’t respond, she slipped her hands together at one end of the stick and swung it at his head, much like she was swinging a bat at a ball. As the stick accelerated, he heard a growl from the back of her throat.

  Amateur, he thought, disappointed with her tactic. He timed the stick’s motion and, dropping his chin, ducked forward so it would swing by overhead. Her momentum was about to expose her midriff and he’d use the opening to execute a “take down and kill” sequence.

  As the arc of her swing developed, she pivoted her stick while maintaining the power behind its motion. In rapid sequence, she twirled, dropped to one knee, and lowered her shoulder to protect her midsection. Her stick veered down on a new path and she swept his legs out from under him.

  By the time Sid realized what was happening, he was flat on his back. I got suckered, he thought, scolding himself. He looked up from the ground and saw her smile.

  “I am so sorry, champ,” she mocked, projecting a lightness that suggested humor.

  Hopping up, he reassessed both her and his strategy. He didn’t give a moment’s thought to the fact that she’d dropped him in front of a crowd. Instead, just as he’d done at the beginning and end of more than a thousand sparring bouts, he brought his feet together, pressed his hands to his thighs, and bowed at the waist. He wasn’t surprised when she returned the formal gesture.

  She assumed a fight-ready stance, crouching ever so slightly as she centered her body over her feet. Shifting the stick to her side, she held it parallel to her body, one hand next to her waist and the other up near her shoulder.

  He’d trained hard for more than a decade on a variety of martial arts and other fighting forms, and recognized her classic bojutsu stance. Adrenaline spilled through his veins, causing his skin to tingle. This is gonna be fun, he thought.

  He assumed a ready stance that was not identifiable to any particular school or style. But anyone watching would have no doubt he was proficient with hand-to-hand combat and staff weapons.

  They began to circle each other. A hush developed in the room as the pair drew attention. Everyone, including Captain Dooley, drifted in their direction and formed a ring around them. Neither Sid nor Cheryl noticed.

  The muscular instructor appeared between them, raising
his hand high to stop their movement. He looked at Sid and caught his eye. Turning to Cheryl, he did the same. After a brief pause, he called, “Ready,” then dropping his hand in an arc between them, shouted, “fight!”

  Cheryl leapt forward and unleashed a lightning-fast attack sequence. The air was filled with a click-clack staccato of impacting sticks as Sid struggled to block and parry the onslaught. He retreated several steps during her opening flurry to protect himself from her weapon.

  He soon deciphered her patterns and methods, and fell into an easy rhythm, alternating between attack and defense. During the bout, Sid landed several sharp jabs to the pads on her chest, stomach, and thighs. His own suit protected his shoulders and forearms from some vicious slices. Not bad, he thought, having met few opponents who could touch him in this sport when he was fully engaged.

  The battle raged for twelve minutes, then the instructor appeared and yelled, “Break,” to end the bout. Both dropped their guard and bowed again.

  Sid leaned on his pole and took deep breaths. Cheryl sat on the floor and sucked in air. Still breathing hard, she lay back on the ground and splayed her arms wide.

  “Nice work, slick.” She smiled for the second time.

  He sat next to her and continued his recovery. “I’m Sid,” was all he could think of to say.

  * * *

  The next morning, Cheryl swam into the tube-like entrance of an underwater obstacle course. She wore space coveralls that had been modified with foot fins, added to give the swimmers greater agility in the liquid environment.

  Pulling herself through the lake water, she advanced into a labyrinth of looping and intersecting tunnels. Colorful geometric shapes—boxes, balls, cylinders, and cones—were attached above, below, and on either side along the passageway, providing handholds and hiding places as far as she could see. With her com disabled, she heard only the background thrum of filters keeping the water clear.

  Sid, her same partner from yesterday’s sparing bout, trailed behind in a gold-colored suit that matched her own. He swam up next to her and, using hand gestures, signaled that he was taking the leftward path at the intersection up ahead. She nodded and signed that she’d go right. She smiled encouragement through her clear hood, but he’d moved ahead and didn’t see.

  Other teams were spread throughout the maze, and the challenge they all faced was pretty much a kid’s game—the last team standing at the end of the exercise won the bout. Everyone in the game had a short baton as their only weapon. If she touched an opponent’s head or torso with the tip of the baton, their suit would glow, confirming their “death.”

  I’m not sure splitting up was such a good idea, she thought as the branch she was in channeled up a level. She quickened her pace, anxious to rejoin Sid so they could protect each other. At the next corner, the tube continued up yet another level.

  Cheryl looked back the way she’d come, hesitated, and decided to keep going forward. A movement through slits in the tube wall attracted her attention. Peering through a narrow gap, she looked into a largish open chamber that served as an intersection for several passageways.

  Her senses on edge, she watched as the two members of the red team swam into hiding places among the obstacles scattered around the walls of the chamber. Nice place for an ambush.

  She studied the different features of the intersection so she’d recognize it if she ever made it to that location. A flash down a tube on the far side of the open space lifted her gaze. Something yellow was advancing toward the chamber. Squinting, she studied the object and felt her pulse quicken. The color was more gold than yellow. Sid’s swimming into the trap!

  Cheryl controlled her breathing and willed her heartbeat to slow. With confident, focused movements, she kicked and pulled herself deeper into the maze. A fork came into view and she swam left. After another turn, the passage brightened from light coming up through a hole in the tube floor.

  Edging up to the lip of the hole, she peered into an open area. The chamber! The red team members were barely visible in the recesses bracketing the tube where Sid would emerge. From her vantage point at the top of the compartment, she couldn’t see her partner. Using her memory of his position and progress in the tube, she made a guess as to when he would appear.

  The challengers, focused on the tube holding Sid, had their backs to her. Pulling herself through the hole and into the chamber, she positioned her feet against the edge of the opening and drew herself into a tight ball.

  Her instincts told her it was time to go. With her arms pressed against her sides, she extended her legs and pushed as hard as she could, flying into the top of the chamber. The resistance from the water slowed her to a drift before she’d traveled three body lengths.

  Dammit. Stroking and kicking, she descended behind the red team, watching to see if her flailing limbs attracted their attention. When she was level with them, she turned and approached cautiously, studying their backs for any sign that would indicate awareness of her presence.

  She’d made it most of the way across the chamber when Sid poked his head out of the tube. The two reds attacked. Cheryl felt a moment of relief when Sid somehow broke into the open chamber without being eliminated from the challenge.

  Swimming forward with her baton out in front of her, she watched for an opening that would let her engage the opponents and help Sid. He had the two reds on the defensive and, as she approached, she sought a pattern in his actions so she could time her strike. The water provided so much resistance to movement that the fight played out in a slow motion dance. Punch. Kick. Block. Block.

  Trying to catch Sid’s eye, she sidled up behind the nearest red. She chose to act and, snapping her arm out, touched the opponent on the side of his torso. His suit glowed, and as he turned his head to glimpse his vanquisher, he dropped his hands and disengaged. The glow of light caused the other red to lose his concentration for a brief instant, and Sid used the opening to eliminate him from the game.

  Swimming over to Cheryl, Sid gave her a one-armed hug. As they rotated together in a circle and looked into the tubes, he leaned his hood against hers and yelled, “Nice work, partner. This is a good spot. Let’s hang out here and wait for our prey.”

  Over the next hour, they ambushed the orange, green, and blue teams. They waited for a bit, agreed they’d won the challenge, and worked their way to an exit. Swimming into the open lake, Cheryl’s com activated.

  “You two aren’t done.” She recognized Captain Dooley’s voice. “There’s still another team.”

  Sid, apparently having received the same message, canted, and using strong strokes, swam back toward the tunnel. Her gaze shifted to activity past where he’d just been. Two people dressed in black suits separated from a group and entered a tube farther along the maze. Clenching her jaw, she swam hard to catch Sid. He was deep in the labyrinth when she got close enough to tap his leg.

  Pulling up next to him, she leaned her hood against his. “The black team is camp instructors. We’re being set up.”

  Sid nodded. “I saw. Let’s get to our ambush room before they do.”

  Cheryl’s arms ached as she worked to match Sid’s pace. She breathed a private sigh when they spilled into the open chamber.

  Giving her another one-armed hug, Sid touched hoods. “Which tube will they come through?”

  Trusting her instinct, she pointed. “There.”

  “I agree.”

  “How about me there and you there,” she said, choosing the tubes on either side of the one they’d agreed would deliver the instructors.

  Sid nodded, released his hold, and swam toward one of the passageways she had identified. Cheryl swam to the other. Pulling herself about ten body lengths deep, she turned to assess her view. Too far, she thought when she realized she couldn’t see into the tube where the instructors would appear. Hugging the tube wall to get a better viewing angle, she edged back toward the chamber.

  Satisfied with her position, she looked across the open space and, perp
lexed by the sight, scrunched her eyebrows. Sid had positioned himself at the opening of his tube with his head protruding into the chamber. He may be able to see them better this way, but they can see him, too. She waved her hands to catch his eye, but he either wasn’t looking or chose to ignore her.

  Then her heart rose in her chest. Sid opened his suit, wriggled his way out into the open water and, dressed only in his shorts, swam into the chamber. You’re mad, she thought. There were no air pockets anywhere that she could see.

  He moved along the chamber wall and positioned himself above the tube where the instructors would appear. She started counting seconds in her head. He can hold his breath for maybe two minutes.

  She reached twenty in her count when the two instructors popped into view. They moved without hesitation, dashing for Sid’s gold suit lying in the adjacent tube. Sid caught them both by surprise, dropping behind them and “killing” them in rapid succession.

  One of the instructors swung his elbow when Sid’s baton touched his abdomen. Arguably the instinctive reflex of a trained combatant, his elbow caught Sid on the side of the head. Sid went limp and began to drift. The two instructors, engaged in an angry exchange that included finger pointing, didn’t seem to notice.

  Cheryl watched her partner’s motionless body for a full heartbeat before she reacted. Straining every muscle, she raced through the water in his direction. Her body screamed in protest as she struggled to increase her speed.

  Reaching Sid at the one minute mark, she got behind him, wrapped her arm across his chest and, kicking and pulling, tugged him toward his suit. Small relative to the big man and hindered by her space coveralls, she moved him at a crawl. He hadn’t exhaled—yet—and she knew that the air in his lungs was his only resource for survival until she could get him to his suit.