Crystal Conquest (2 page)

Cheryl Wallace looked up at Sid as
they rode down from the surface. “Thanks for keeping me company.” She flashed a
quick smile.

A tall, broad-shouldered man in his late thirties, Sid held
up the sturdy case he carried. “Being your pack animal is what I live for.”
Neither his tone nor expression hinted at the sarcasm she knew dripped from his
words.

She patted his butt. “And you’re so good at it.” The doors
opened.

“Cheryl Wallace?” asked a solidly built Fleet officer as
they stepped out. He extended his arm, and his beefy hand poked out of the
sleeve of his service khakis. “I’m Chief Juan Medina, the new head of Lunar Base
security.”

They completed introductions, and as they started walking, the
chief launched into a monologue. “Most of Lunar Base is underground. The
civilian population is set north and west of the base. The south and east sides
are being kept undeveloped so there’s room for base expansion.”

Both Cheryl and Sid had visited the moon on a number of
occasions and already knew what Chief Medina was telling them. But he was on a
fresh assignment, so they let him practice his speech. And since they were
there to gather information, they preferred to listen rather than talk.

As they worked their way to the defense array command center,
the chief said, “I have everyone assembled. There’s much speculation as to what
this is about.”

“What did you tell them?” asked Cheryl.

“I didn’t tell anyone anything. I just told them all to get
their sorry asses to their stations. When I use the right tone, the crew tend
not to ask questions.”

“The base commander isn’t on our visit schedule?” asked Sid,
who’d been introduced as a captain and the official Fleet liaison for the defense
array project.

“No, sir,” said the chief. “His philosophy is that when
there’s stench in the air, duck and run. Getting covered in it is never a good
career move.” He glanced at them both with a cheery smile. “I’ve been given the
honor of working with you on this investigation.”

I can’t believe he’s still sulking,
thought Cheryl. Fifteen
years earlier, she and the base commander had been finalists in Fleet Academy’s
annual war tournament. The two had sat on stage and, with Fleet officers and
classmates watching, competed head to head in a “battle of champions”
simulation.

Cheryl had thrashed him in front of everyone. She’d received
accolades, and he’d developed a passive-aggressive attitude in his dealings with
her.

From the first days of the defense array project, he’d been
less than cooperative. Driven in part by guilt over bruising his ego all those
years ago, and mostly because she valued his leadership skills, she’d given him
a second and third chance, hoping he’d come around and put the past behind.
I
tried.
She shook her head.
Screw him
.

The command center entrance came into view, and while Sid
and the chief chatted, Cheryl gently cleared her throat.

“I’m here,” said Criss, recognizing the distinctive sound she
used to call him.

She heard his voice as if it were wired directly through the
nerves in her ear. No device could detect his words. She and Sid were two of
the three people he spoke with in this fashion. She could tell from Sid’s lack
of response that Criss hadn’t included him in the comment.

As Criss spoke, she saw the command center door brighten
with a luminous glow.

“Let the show begin,” she said out loud. While she
verbalized the statement to Sid and the chief, she was really talking to Criss,
confirming that she could see his door enhancement. He’d be providing her private
information, presented both as sight and sound, to guide her through every step
of her performance.

The door opened as the chief approached, and they entered a large,
bustling room that reminded Cheryl of the bridge of a modern Union ship. Two
years may have passed since she captained the Fleet spaceship
Alliance
in the confrontation with the Kardish, but Cheryl’s battle-hardened background
still outweighed the experience of everyone in the room. And she knew Sid, who had
spent more than a decade as a covert warrior for the Union of Nations, had
already started separating the crew into two classes: asset or liability.

Like on a ship’s bridge, operations benches crowded each
wall. Cheryl recalled that five of them were for imaging, analytics, engineering,
communications, and weapons. The function of the sixth escaped her at the
moment. She didn’t dwell on it as she psyched herself for the tense drama she
was about to initiate.

She scanned the room and saw a Fleet military operator
sitting at each bench. A civilian stood behind each operator. The civilians were
Cheryl’s employees, serving as instructors and troubleshooters as the defense array
installation progressed. If the operators or her company’s equipment didn’t function
as expected, their job was to note the issue and pursue a solution until the
problem was resolved.

A lieutenant and a civilian stood on a raised platform in the
center of the room, both watching the action with one eye while they held an
animated discussion. They broke off their exchange as Cheryl, Sid, and the chief
stepped onto the platform and joined them.

Tall, slim, and clean-cut, the lieutenant, like Cheryl and
Sid, was somewhere in his late thirties. The civilian, a trim, handsome woman,
was a few inches shorter and a few years younger.

Cheryl studied the beehive of activity from the perspective
of the raised platform, knowing Fleet crew ignored the protocols of rank when
at an ops bench unless called to stand. The chief did so.

“Everybody up,” he bellowed. “Now.”

The chief’s authoritative style compelled the Fleet
operators in the command center to snap to attention. With the behavior
ingrained in their muscle memory, even Cheryl’s civilian employees, all ex-Fleet,
assumed the formal stance.

The chief turned to Cheryl, shifting attention onto her.

“Hello, everyone. As most of you know, I’m Cheryl Wallace, president
of Space Defense Systems. I’m here today to run a few test simulations to
evaluate our readiness to repel a Kardish attack. Please return to your stations.”

The Fleet crew sat down, and Cheryl’s instructors hovered
over their shoulders. She thought the scene looked much like when she’d entered
the room, though it was quieter now. And she could see everyone concentrating,
determined to prove themselves in this public performance.

Cheryl called out to the room, “Let’s begin. Execute
simulation challenge alpha.” The panels came alive with colorful displays. She
heard occasional chimes and dings from different ops benches as everyone worked
frantically to track the challenge solution.

The colors and noises were designed to guide the attention
of an operator to the most critical information during the frenzy of
multitasking as the defense array progressed in its response. In truth, though,
as long as the system functioned properly, Cheryl knew there was little for
them to do but watch.

Without actually firing, the defense array brought its considerable
arsenal of energy and projectile weapons to bear and computed the annihilation
of the alien invader. Cheryl read out the elapsed time to solution. “Four
minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Not bad. Next. Execute simulation challenge bravo.”
The frenzy repeated and she again read the elapsed time. “Four minutes and
thirty-seven seconds. Execute simulation challenge charlie.” After a long four
minutes and thirty-seven seconds, she read the elapsed solution time to the
room.

She looked at the time display for several moments. The
sounds of hushed whispering drifted up from one of the benches.

In a voice that filled the room, she asked the man standing
near her, “Lieutenant Geitz, what is challenge alpha?”

“It’s a single Kardish war vessel entering the solar system
on an intercept trajectory with Earth.”

“Thank you. And what is challenge bravo?”

“It’s three groups of Kardish vessels approaching in waves,
one group following the next.”

“And challenge charlie?”

“It’s a dispersed invasion of a hundred vessels approaching Earth
from different directions.” Geitz said this with apparent confidence and pride,
acting like he’d demonstrated his expertise to the room. But Cheryl knew the
panels on the walls displayed the particulars of each simulated attack. He’d really
shown he was aware enough to read and remember the information.

“Analytics,” she called in a loud voice. She scanned the command
center and saw a man snap to attention. Since he was already standing, she
understood this was her civilian employee.

She focused attention on the military operator sitting at
that bench. “Analytics, what’s the solution if one hundred Kardish vessels are preparing
to attack Earth from every direction?”

The analytics operator looked at the lieutenant and then
shifted his gaze to the chief. Fleet crew weren’t used to responding to
civilians. Cheryl saw the chief nod his head once, and the operator answered,
“There is none, ma’am. We’d be screwed.”

Cheryl turned to the man next to her. “Do you agree, Lieutenant
Geitz?”

Geitz remained silent. He didn’t meet her stare.

“Would we be screwed?”

His face contracted into a scowl. Cheryl wasn’t done.

“Lieutenant, does it make sense that the defense array would
take the same amount of time to find a battle solution against a lone ship as
it does against an overwhelming invasion?” She didn’t wait for Geitz to answer
but instead called into the room, “Analytics?”

“No way, ma’am.” The analytics operator flicked a nervous
glance at Geitz. “Anyway, like I said, there is no solution to a massive
invasion. We’d lose.”

Cheryl turned to Sid and pointed at what was likely Geitz’s
desk. “How about over there.”

Sid stepped off the platform, walked to the desk, and
plopped the sturdy case he carried on top. It landed with a heavy thud. He
fiddled with the latches and opened the lid. It swung in an arc and hit the
desk with a thump, sending a cup bouncing to the floor.

“Where to start?” Cheryl said as if she was thinking out
loud. In fact, she was asking Criss for guidance.

“To your left,” Criss said. She looked over and saw a
console cover glowing. She walked over to it, and as she approached, the glow
narrowed to a slot where she could fit her fingers. “Pull straight out,” she
heard inside her head.

Cheryl opened the console to expose long rows of slim
vertical rectangles, each about as tall as her hand. She skimmed the collection
and saw that one was glowing. “Use your index fingers. Loop one behind from the
top and the other behind from below. Pull straight and firm.”

She did as instructed, but the narrow rectangle didn’t budge.
A surge of anxiety flushed through her. She’d created so much drama up to this
point, she’d feel foolish asking for help now.

“You have it right,” Criss assured her. “Give it a firm
tug.”

She used a jerking motion and the piece yielded. The narrow rectangle
was the front of a long slide circuit. As she pulled it out, she saw familiar thin
black wafers covering its surface. She kept pulling until the slide cleared the
slot and, holding an end delicately in each hand, carried it over to Sid. He handed
her a matching item from his case. She returned to the console, pushed the new slide
into the open slot, and pressed until she felt it click.

She repeated the swap-and-replace routine three more times,
emptying Sid’s case in the process. Closing the console cover, she returned to
the center of the room, stepped up on the platform, and called, “Execute
simulation challenge charlie.”

The sounds and colors in the room were decidedly more
frenetic as the defense array sought to respond to an overwhelming invasion of one
hundred Kardish vessels. After almost fifteen minutes, the main panel displayed
the understated words that matched the prediction of the Fleet analytics
operator: Solution Failure.

Everyone sat still as they stared at the display. In a soft
voice they all could hear, Cheryl said, “Chief, you have a place nearby?”

“Out the door we came in and straight across.”

“Will you please make sure everyone waits?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Grace,” she said to the woman standing on the other side of
the lieutenant. “Would you join me across the hall?” Grace turned four
different shades of red but without hesitation replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

Cheryl led the way into the office
across the hall. Sid followed Grace. The utilitarian room had a row of work cubicles
along the back wall and a table with six chairs in the middle. Cheryl motioned
for Grace to sit at the far side of the table. Eyes wide, Grace lowered herself
into a chair. She pulled her hair behind her ears with the tips of her fingers.

“Is the room secure?” Cheryl asked. Given the circumstances,
she wanted to be sure no one was listening, watching, or recording images while
they talked.

Sid peeked behind cubicle dividers to confirm there was no
one else present. Criss, able to see, access, and control everything that
entered any part of the web, checked that all devices capable of carrying
signals out of the room were disabled.

“All clear,” Criss and Sid said together.

Cheryl, standing across from Grace, leaned forward, planted
both hands on the table, and looked into her eyes. “Dammit, Grace. You’re
better than this. How could you not know someone was sneaking in counterfeit
parts?” Cheryl had personally recruited Grace to be her eyes and ears for the
project. Her tone and demeanor made it clear she felt let down.

Grace placed her com on the table. “I grant you complete
access. Review my connects, touches, notes, anything you want. Look at my lack
of personal life while you’re at it. Everything is open to you.”

With Criss’s help, Cheryl had searched Grace’s com record
during the trip up from Earth. She knew Grace was clean. But for reasons driven
more by emotion than logic, she felt it necessary that Grace look her in the
eye and say it with conviction. She left the com sitting where Grace placed it.
“Tell me what I’ll find.”

“That the seek system you were swapping the slides on went
operational a few weeks ago. When it first came online, we concentrated on basic
team coordination. You know, getting the crew familiar with its operation,
training them on what they were seeing and hearing, how to respond in different
scenarios. Stuff like that.”

Grace glanced at Sid and then returned her eyes to Cheryl. “As
the training advanced, I realized that some of the solutions didn’t make sense.
I support you and the company, Cheryl. If our stuff isn’t working, I want to
get it fixed, but I don’t want to embarrass anyone by letting it become
public.”

“So what will I learn from your com?”

“That I’ve been working behind the scenes with Masuka in corporate.
When I showed him some of the results, he became concerned as well.” A lock of
hair dropped from behind her right ear, and Grace guided it back in place. “We
were prepping a brief to send up the line. It’ll be ready in a couple of days.”
She looked down at her hands. “Well, would’ve been.”

Cheryl nodded. She believed Grace to be a savvy and decisive
project manager, and had placed her in a leadership role for that reason. Her
current behavior and the accuracy of her statements bore out Cheryl’s faith in
her. She was heartened to learn that her instincts about people remained true.

“You did good, Grace,” she said with a quiet sincerity.
“You’re not in trouble. But there are people in that command center who are. Go
to your quarters and lay low. It’ll get ugly. Use the time to finish your
report with Masuka. Get it done today and send it directly to me.”

As Grace rose, she scooped up her com and held it out on a
flattened palm. “You’re welcome to look. I won’t be offended.”

“Take it. You’ll need it to finish your report.” Cheryl
watched her head for the door. “Use some of your downtime to call a friend. It
takes work to maintain a social life.”

As the door closed behind Grace, Cheryl started pacing.

“Grace did all right,” said Sid. “Why the tension?”

“I’m thinking about the creeps behind this. There’re always
people who will do anything for profit. But to sabotage our only defense
against alien invaders? Do they honestly think the Kardish will fly in and kill
everyone but them? The defense array is all we have. Could you imagine having it
fail at the critical moment we need it because a few dirtbags wanted a
lifestyle upgrade?”

“Maybe the dirtbags don’t think the Kardish will be coming
back.”

She glared at him and said with an edge in her voice, “Criss
swayed the Union of Nations into building this base, funding the probe swarm
out past the asteroid belt, and constructing massive installations on Earth and
in orbit. Do you think he’d do that if they weren’t coming back?”

Sid remained quiet, and Cheryl appreciated his patience
while she vented. Before she could continue her rant, the door opened and Lieutenant
Geitz stumbled in, his hands secured in front of him.

The chief walked next to him, holding Geitz’s left arm in a
grip so tight the chief’s fingers were white from the pressure. He shoved the
disgraced officer forward and pointed at the chair Grace had just vacated.
“Sit.” The chief took up station directly behind him.

Geitz slumped in the chair and stared at the top of the
table while Cheryl studied him. Her larger goal with this confrontation was to gain
insight into why he thought sabotaging humanity’s one hope for survival was
rational behavior. If she could understand what drove him, she might be able to
correct the culture within Fleet and her company. Earth didn’t have time for these
distractions.

She knew he wasn’t scared of her. So she talked about some
really scary people—the criminal syndicate that had hired him. “You know that
if they decide they’re not happy with you, they’ll kill you?” He lifted his
head and looked at her. “To send a message to others involved, first they’ll
kill your wife, then her parents and your parents, and then your kids. Hell,
they’ll even kill your dog.”

“They’d kill Buddy?”

Cheryl almost jumped out of her skin.
Kill the wife and
kids, no problem. Kill the dog and he’s upset?
“Yes,” she said aloud.
“They’d kill poor Buddy. Slowly and painfully, I’m afraid. If you want any
chance of saving him, you need to cooperate. If you’re really helpful, we’ll
protect your family as well.”

Her mocking disdain seemed lost on him. And then he grew pale.
It didn’t require a deep thinker to appreciate he had two choices. He could
accept judgment for his actions either from Fleet or from a ruthless syndicate.
Fleet would lock him up forever. The syndicate who profited from the stolen parts
would kill him.

His eyes shifted to Sid and back to Cheryl. “They showed me
this is a mag-no line.” The words spilled out in a rush. “You know what that
is? This is all wasted money and effort. It won’t work, so I’m not hurting
anyone. If they attack, we’re all dead anyway.”

Criss spoke in her ear. “The Maginot Line, built by the
French, was a long row of defensive weapons fixed in the ground and aimed at
Germany. In World War II, the Germans went the long way around to avoid the
weapons. Once they made it past the line, all the expensive, immovable defenses
became worthless.”

“I know what the Maginot Line is,” Cheryl told both Criss
and Geitz. “Since you brought up history, let’s back up and you tell me your
memory of the Kardish and what they did to Earth.”

“I remember those pukes stole our new super crystal, and as
they flew away, they bombed Earth. They blew up our crystal factories and
research centers, and killed all our scientists. They did some serious damage.”

“So you’re helping them?”

“Look,” he said, his intense manner reflecting someone
fighting for his life. “Two years ago, they dropped an energy bolt a half block
from where I was standing. It vaporized a crystal production center, left a clean
hole in the ground, but didn’t touch anything outside the fence line. I didn’t
even feel the blast. They wiped out every single crystal facility and the
people inside but left everyone else alone. The lesson is clear. Piss them off
and you die. Leave them alone and you live.”

Cheryl remained quiet, still preferring to listen rather
than talk. Geitz didn’t disappoint her.

“I heard we sent a special-forces unit after them.” He smirked
as he spoke. “We kicked ass and blew up their vessel before they could make it
out of the solar system. They paid for what they did with their ship
and
their lives.” He sat back in the chair, his attitude turning to one of bravado.
“That’s how
I’d
deal with them if they ever came back.”

Geitz’s comment shifted Cheryl’s thoughts back to the battle
aboard the Kardish vessel. She, along with Sid and Juice Tallette, were the sole
survivors of that kick-ass unit. Juice had been along to rescue Criss, a self-aware
AI crystal she’d created in her lab.

During the battle on the alien
vessel, they’d learned that the Kardish had kidnapped Criss to serve as the
gatekeeper for their flagship. But before they allowed him free rein to run
every aspect of their ship’s operation, they had needed a way to control him. They’d
done so by implanting a hardwired attribute that required him to follow the
orders of his leadership.

In a form of psychological
imprinting, Criss had come to identify his human rescuers as his leadership
team as they’d escaped the Kardish vessel. And thus, the most formidable entity
ever created became programmed to respond to Sid, Cheryl, and Juice’s commands.

Cheryl stood with her fists on her hips and stared at the lieutenant.
With Criss’s help, she knew the details of the treason, the others involved,
what parts had been switched for counterfeits, and how they split the profits.

Criss had suggested to her before she came that this was a
case of simple greed.
He’s right,
she thought.
And vigilance is the
way to stop it in the future.

She was done with Geitz. “We’ll let you take out the trash,
Chief. I’ve forwarded the details and evidence to you.”

Sid tilted his head toward the door, and she followed him
into the corridor. As they walked, Sid stated what Cheryl already knew. “Given
how fast word travels in such a small community, everyone knows what just
happened. Anyone involved is nervous and looking for a way off this rock.”

Sid glanced up and down the corridor. They were alone. He
reached his arm behind her, and she felt his strong hand knead her back up along
her spine. Her tension ebbed with every movement of his talented fingers.

“And,” he continued, “I’m guessing the public confrontation
isn’t sitting well with the base commander.”

“Good,” she said, still miffed that he’d snubbed her. She
shifted her shoulders forward to gain maximum pleasure from Sid’s efforts. “This
happened under his watch, and I’m not giving him a fourth chance. I need to
touch base with Fleet Command, but from my view, his assignment here is done.”

“Criss,” said Sid, “suppose just one Kardish warship showed
up today. Given what we have for defensive weapons, what’s your assessment?”

“We’d be screwed,” he said in their ears.