Crystal Conquest Read online

  Crystal Conquest

  Doug J. Cooper

  Author of Crystal Deception

  Crystal Conquest

  Copyright ©2014 by Doug J. Cooper

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or 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

  Beta reviewer: Mark Mesler

  Book editor: Tammy Salyer

  Cover design: Damonza

  ISBN-10: 0989938123

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9899381-2-9

  Author website: www.crystalseries.com

  ~~~

  for Nan and Nat

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Am I really going to do this? thought Lenny Barton, feeling a bit like a passenger in his own body. His truth nib had uncovered a secret, one that fueled visions of wealth and power. And the more Lenny daydreamed, the more he believed he could make his fantasy come true.

  He tweaked his plan—a dumb and dangerous sketch of one, anyway—and his face tingled from the adrenaline rush. I can pull this off. Nodding in support of the idea, he viewed the information that had started it all.

  According to the official record, Dr. Jessica “Juice” Tallette had developed an artificial intelligence crystal that was a thousand times smarter than a typical human. And, again officially, an explosion two years ago had destroyed this AI super crystal.

  But Lenny’s truth nib claimed the AI was alive and living somewhere in the northeastern United States. He believed his nib. And he wanted this powerful crystal for himself.

  An off-the-charts genius, Lenny was on course to graduate from the Engineered Intelligence program at the Boston Institute of Technology with a perfect A in every class. If he yielded to the reckless thoughts now rattling in his head, that outcome would certainly change.

  He didn’t understand it, but just knowing this super artificial intelligence existed flipped a switch deep inside his skull. I’m holding a winning lottery ticket, he thought. I just need to cash it in.

  Sitting in his study chair, he refilled his coffee cup and started brainstorming. The nervous tapping of his foot accelerated as he mulled his options.

  He had four weeks to play with. He’d tell his friends here at BIT he was going home for a family emergency. He called his folks every week as part of his normal routine and could do that from anywhere. They’d never know he was gone.

  That gave him enough time to leave school and make a play for the crystal before his world came crashing down with a string of Fs in his courses. It was a make-or-break gambit, but if he succeeded in gaining ownership of this AI, it wouldn’t matter. He smiled. I’ll be king of the world.

  Surrendering to his urge, Lenny rummaged through his closet. He recognized a strap poking up through the detritus piled on the floor, grabbed it, and pulled steadily until his backpack sprang free. He turned to face the room, too lost in thought to notice the closet clutter shifting to fill the void he’d created.

  Plopping the pack on his bed, he hesitated. Since he didn’t know how this venture would play out, he wasn’t sure what he should bring. He crammed in a couple of changes of clothes and, after a moment’s thought, added some heavier items so he could adapt to the ever-changing New England weather. He crouched, snatched an extra pair of shoes stowed beneath his bed, and threw them on top.

  Hefting the pack to gauge its weight, he acknowledged that his lottery ticket analogy was a stretch. “You’re following a treasure map.” He said the words out loud so he could hear how dumb it sounded. But the treasure at the end of this rainbow wasn’t just a pot of gold. A mountain of gold paled in comparison to what this AI crystal could get for him.

  His plan was simple. Gain access to the super crystal and then position the situation so ownership came down to a game of wits. If he could do that, there was no doubt he’d win. He always won those sorts of games. And it wouldn’t be stealing, he thought. This crystal has its own awareness, so it can choose to come with me.

  Heading to the bathroom to gather toiletries, he considered what he’d do if he actually got the crystal. I’ll have it fix my Fs. He threw a collection of items from around the sink into a clear bag. Then I’ll sit back and be King of Everything.

  His com signaled, and glancing at it, he saw his roommate, Spencer, standing out in the hallway, swaying back and forth. The left side of his shirt, untucked and hanging loose, swung in rhythm with his movements.

  “Let me in, Lenny,” Spencer slurred, confirming Lenny’s guess that he was remarkably drunk. “You got a girl in there? Hurry. The hallway’s spinning.”

  “Just a sec, pal,” replied Lenny. He snatched the truth nib out of his com, added it to a small pouch that held two other prototypes, and stuffed the pouch deep into his pocket. He lifted his pack off his bed, tossed it into the closet, and opened the door. Spencer toppled forward onto the floor.

  “C’mon, Spence. Here you go.”

  Lenny’s lanky body was no match for his roommate’s bulk, but he managed to get Spencer upright long enough to guide him to his bed. They reached it at the same time Spencer went limp. He fell forward and his body bounced once but stayed on the mattress. His legs hung over the side of the bed, the toes of his shoes resting on the floor. The room began to reek of a mélange of odors associated with hard-partying college life.

  Lenny ignored it and refocused on his mission. He dragged his chair over to his tech bench, laid his com on top, and immersed himself in an intense hacking session. He enjoyed working long hours as long as his efforts focused on one of two things: studying technology or beating sim quests. This challenge is the best of both worlds. He paused for a sip of coffee.

  An hour into his labors, Spencer started snoring. The off-gassing of odors intensified, and Lenny opened a window. He maintained his concentration, working until the rising sun announced it was time to stop. He glanced out the window at the new day and rubbed his neck, seeking to relieve the stiffness that developed from staying huddled at the tech bench for so many hours.

  You’ve done what you can, he thought, acknowledging he was constrained both by time and equipment. He slumped back in his chair and smiled. If this had been for a grade, he’d get a clean A from any of his professors. Even from cranky old Huffington, who hated giving out As for any reason.

  In the last few hours, he’d succeeded in modifying his com so anyone accessing it would find him en route to his folk
s’ home. If they study it, though, they’ll see I’m traveling at a snail’s pace. What would normally be a half-day trip would play out over two weeks. And just before he reached his home, it would appear as if he turned around and started a slow journey back to campus.

  For Lenny, that spoof was easy. The hard one was funds. He needed to cover expenses for food, lodging, transportation, and sundries. He had the money. This wasn’t about theft. He just didn’t want it to be too easy for anyone to track him by tracing his purchases.

  The Union of Nations’ financial system was superbly protected. It had to be, because if it crumbled, so would society. After some false starts, he succeeded in rerouting his transactions so the initiation point of each expense would appear to be from wherever he was on his slow journey home and back. It’ll fool my parents and low-level officials, but if the authorities get involved, they’ll crack it in seconds.

  With his pack slung over one shoulder, he exited his dorm and headed across the quad. The grass was wet with morning dew, and the old vine-covered dorm buildings lining the outside of the quad showed little signs of activity at this early hour. Most students wouldn’t surface until the sun was high in the sky.

  He had an inspiration and, without slowing his pace, called Spencer and left a message. “Hey, Spence. Thanks for being a friend and listening to me last night. I didn’t mean to burden you with all my troubles. Anyway, as you suggested, I’m headed home to be there for my mom. I appreciate you agreeing to speak with my professors. I should be back in a couple of weeks. You’re the best.”

  He smiled as he imagined Spencer sitting on the bathroom floor, alternately vomiting into the toilet and struggling to remember some fragment of this deep and meaningful conversation.

  Lenny turned his attention to transportation. He worked his way to Broad Street at the edge of campus and splurged on renting a car. He needed the privacy, and his parents, who were footing the bill for his college expenses, could afford it.

  “Take me to the main Crystal Research complex off Route 29 in upstate New York,” Lenny said to the car nav as he climbed in and got settled.

  As the door shut, the nav replied, “Yes, sir. Our trip will take three hours and twenty minutes.”

  He dug the truth nib out of his pocket and popped it back into his com. I can’t believe I’m doing this!

  * * *

  Lenny had built his nib in BIT’s crystal fabrication lab for his senior-year project. All the students in the Engineered Intelligence program built one to do some specific task. His little speck of crystal used pattern mining to tease truth out of the mountain of news, analysis, reports, lies, speculation, assumption, innuendo, and other crap found in the web record.

  He’d chased a bunch of stories with his truth nib during his testing phase. It worked by searching the far corners of the world and gathering every scrap of information available on a target event. It jumbled the collection of items into a heap and sifted the information down to a smaller pile based on common patterns. It was a repetitive process that eventually produced a simple list of facts.

  He’d used it to analyze political, scientific, and literary conspiracies and was bored. He didn’t care who wrote a particular sonata or assassinated some historical figure. Frustrated, he’d sat in the fabrications lab one afternoon, shooting the breeze with his friend Patel as he struggled to come up with something interesting to analyze.

  Patel had been prattling on about his own problems with his nib project, and Lenny’s eyes glazed over. As Patel’s chatter continued, Lenny said things like “wow, that sucks,” at what he hoped were appropriate moments.

  His eyes drifted while he waited for Patel to wind down, and his gaze settled on a plaque fixed to the wall across from where they were sitting. He’d seen it countless times over the past year and, after all that exposure, had never once read it.

  As Patel talked, Lenny scanned the words above the picture on the plaque. It said that the fab lab and all its equipment was a gift from Dr. Jessica “Juice” Tallette.

  “What’s her story?” he asked, hoping to move the conversation to a new topic.

  “She’s the one who built the super AI crystal those alien bastards stole,” said Patel.

  “The crystal that blew up with the starship?”

  Patel turned in his chair. “This is news to you?”

  Lenny avoided Patel’s gaze as he recalled that day from two years earlier. Energy bolts from a Kardish war vessel had rained from the sky, vaporizing buildings and killing hundreds of people. “Do you remember where you were when it happened?”

  “I was home with my folks.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Lenny.

  After a brief silence, Patel thrust his chin at the plaque. “She’s making investments around the world to replace the crystal development capabilities lost in that attack.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Patel pointed to the words below the picture.

  Lenny skimmed the text. “Did you know her super crystal had more flake in it than a million of our nibs?”

  “Yeah. I read the plaque.”

  “And she was with the commandos who blew up their ship as it tried to escape from our solar system?”

  Patel had stopped responding at that point, but Lenny didn’t care. He’d found a mystery to explore with his truth nib. The story on the plaque said that Juice Tallette had earned her doctorate in engineered intelligence in these hallowed halls of the Boston Institute of Technology, then had been hired by a company to design and build the super crystal.

  She’d succeeded, but it had been stolen by the Kardish, an alien race of traders who’d been lurking in Earth orbit, watching and waiting for just that opportunity. In some fantastic twist of fate, Juice had been along for the ride when a small group of commandos had chased down and blew up their vessel, destroying the crystal in the process.

  Yet now, two short years later, she was back here on Earth, and with enough cash to fund new buildings.

  Lenny felt like he was cheating, because he didn’t need his nib to tell him the events didn’t add up. There’s more to this story, he thought. Much more.

  * * *

  Slouching in the comfort of the self-molding car seat, Lenny inserted his truth nib back in his com and reviewed the results he’d studied the night before. The mountain of information on the web had been distilled down to this: Juice Tallette is now president of a company called Crystal Research. Two years ago, she’d created a crystal that had the intellectual ability of a thousand humans. The crystal was stolen by the Kardish, but it had not been lost when the alien vessel was destroyed. In fact, it was alive and was likely located within an hour’s travel of Juice’s company.

  Lenny was on his way to find this crystal and make it his own. Hugging his pack, his face tingled from another adrenaline rush. Maybe I have won the lottery, he thought.

  Chapter 2

  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 l
et 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.