Authors: Doug J. Cooper
After the group departed, Criss
continued to assemble bits and pieces of information from across the web. His
evidence, though imperfect, was strong. The Kardish were intent on possessing
him and would lash out at Earth if their will was thwarted. With the stakes so
high, it would be in the best interests of the Union to deliver him without
delay.
He observed that in human tradition, decisions of such
consequence were normally deliberated and decided by groups of leaders. In this
case, Sid was acting alone. In fact, since he had been given the assignment, he
had not consulted anyone other than Jack about his plans. Whenever he made a request
to the DSA for resources, he labeled it as mission prep and the request was
filled without question.
Criss knew of a concept called ‘plausible deniability.’ It
was a tool used by politicians who sought to protect themselves by being able
to reasonably claim they did not know about a particular action or event. Sid offered
his superiors ‘perfect deniability.’ They had no idea what he was planning, and
as long as he continued with his success, they did not want to know. Criss
deduced that this game let them sleep at night.
In any event, as Criss had previously determined, Sid’s
current leadership was not convinced that a crystal itself was an item of
significance beyond what it represented as a piece in a larger game. And that
larger game was about using the Kardish to inflate their budgets, portfolios of
authority, and position within the power structure of the Union.
* * *
“You made a promise,” said Cheryl.
“I did, and it’s good. What do you need?” said Sid.
“If I don’t report to Fleet, how do I get stuff done? I need
to get the repair techs off the
Alliance
. I need to finalize the crew
and get them on board. I need to get the ship provisioned. The list is endless.
I don’t understand how this can possibly work.”
“Sit here.” He motioned to a couch. She sat down, and he sat
next to her. “Let’s finalize your crew.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at him dubiously.
“Your com now has a DSA Services function. Call and ask.”
“C’mon, Sid. This is important.” Her scowl showed a mixture
of frustration and annoyance.
“I’m not messing with you.” He was grinning like a school
kid. “Call.”
“Please don’t make a joke of this.”
He motioned to her com, and in spite of her misgivings, she
made the call. A small image of a woman’s head and shoulders, her hair pulled
back and her expression cheerful, floated an arm’s length in front of them.
“Hello, Captain Wallace. I’m Erin. How may I help you?” Before
Cheryl could respond, Erin’s image turned to Sid. “Hey big guy. This sounds
like a fun one.”
“Hi, Erin,” said Sid. “Our focus is on Cheryl right now.”
“Understood. How may I help, Captain Wallace?”
Cheryl looked at Erin, then to Sid, and back to Erin. “I
need to finalize my crew for the shakedown cruise?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Erin waited.
Cheryl paused and then admitted, “I don’t even know what to
ask. Usually someone at Fleet would send me a few choices for each position,
then I’d pick.”
“Do you want to go with a full complement, minimum crew, or
somewhere in between?” Erin asked.
“The full complement is nineteen. What’s the minimum?”
Erin went fuzzy for several seconds and came back. “The
Alliance
can be run with five crew members, not counting the captain or first officer,
if you choose carefully.”
Cheryl turned to Sid. “How can she know this?”
“Yeah, Sid. How can I know this?” Erin was clearly enjoying
herself.
“Erin, Cheryl’s under a tight timeline and is still learning
the ropes. You can tease with me, but let’s please help her now.”
Erin became all business. “Captain Wallace, I am a DSA
service provider. Ask and I provide.” She looked down as she spoke. “That
question was answered by Qin Wang, a lead engineer at Kwasoo Space Industries,
the company that built the ship.”
“No kidding,” said Cheryl, some of her skepticism fading. “So
I want to go with five crew members. And I’d like to talk with three candidates
for each slot.” She thought for a moment. “I’d like a minimum of five years’
experience in the position they’re interviewing for. They should know this may
be a dangerous assignment.” She rubbed the side of her neck. “Let’s start with
that.”
Erin’s image went fuzzy for almost five minutes. Sid leaned
over and kissed Cheryl on her neck where she’d been rubbing. She swatted his
head away.
“Okay,” said Erin when she came back. “If I limit you to
candidates with ratings of ‘outstanding’ on their last five fitness reports, I
can get you interviews with two candidates for four of the positions, and three
candidates for the fifth. That’s if you want to speak with them tonight. If we
open up tomorrow, I can fill out the list completely.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, Sid contacted Erin
at DSA Services to secure the second ship needed for the shell game with the
Kardish. Following his style of keeping everyone in the dark, he asked her to
log the request as mission prep. She had learned long ago that she could tease
with Sid, but she should not question his wishes.
She asked careful questions of him, then of several experts,
and then told Sid the consensus was to use a small and nimble scout that would
serve as a complement to the ponderous
Alliance
. Sid approved the
choice, and Erin pulled some strings and arranged for one to be readied in a
secret Blackworks military hangar maintained by the Union for just this sort of
activity.
In a matter of days, the scout ship sported the most
powerful engines its frame could handle. A respectable weapons platform gave
the ship the ability to deliver a significant punch and still have the speed
and maneuverability to make good an escape. An advanced crystal housing
assembly like that installed on the
Alliance
gave Criss a seamless
communications interface through which he could access anything and monitor
everything as the action unfolded.
With the refit of the scout ship well underway, Sid visited Juice
in her lab at Crystal Fab for a heart-to-heart.
“Juice, I’m here to ask you to stay with Criss and see that he
has what he needs to operate properly.”
“Geez, Sid. We’ve been through this before. I’m here for
him. This isn’t a problem.”
“You understand,” said Sid, “that in two days, he’ll be in
orbit on a spaceship. If you’re with him, then that means you’ll be in orbit as
well.”
“Wait. What?”
As Sid had suspected, in spite of the planning and activity
and discussions, Juice somehow never internalized that she was an actor in the
play.
Patiently, he briefed her on the scout ship, its role in the
high-stakes chess game they were about to undertake with the Kardish, and the
extraordinary amount of resources currently being used to advance everything up
through final preparation to launch-ready status. “You’re Criss’s guardian, Juice.
He needs you, and we need you.”
“But spaceships and I don’t get along so well,” she said.
“And I’m not a secret spy agent or anything.”
Sid coaxed her gently. “How about if we go and look at the
ship together? We need your help to evaluate Criss’s new home. We have to make
sure we get it right, because once we’re up and away, it becomes kind of
challenging to fix things.”
Juice sat and thought as Sid remained quiet, giving her time.
Finally, she stood up. “Okay. But if I’m doing this, I want to be a secret spy
too. Everyone else is, so it’s only fair.”
“We’ll get you a badge and everything,” promised Sid.
They were walking toward the lab exit when Sid stopped. “I
think it’s best that you leave your com here. If someone’s tracking it, let’s
have them believe you’re here working hard on your projects.”
Later, Sid and Juice arrived at an unassuming office
building at Fleet base, passed through multiple stages of security, and
descended down to the Blackworks hangar. They found themselves standing at the
edge of an underground cavern. Dozens of Fleet ships were positioned across the
floor, and most had techs swarming over them. Sid stood next to Juice and
pointed carefully to help her pick out their scout ship.
They climbed into a cart and zipped across the hangar floor.
Juice gazed at the high-tech equipment scattered around every ship they passed.
“Look at all these toys. When I get my secret spy badge, can I come here and
play?”
“When this is over,” said Sid. “We’ll get you a warehouse
full of gizmos and gadgets. It’ll be a non-stop fun fest.”
The vastness of the hangar made it difficult to judge size
and distance, and it took longer than Sid expected to make their way to the
ship. They parked, climbed up a steep set of stairs, and ducked through the
entry hatch into the scout. It was a few more steps from there to the command
bridge.
Sid and Juice stood side by side as they surveyed the bridge.
“It’s not as small as I’d feared,” she said, standing close
to him as if she needed the reassurance of his presence.
“It’s the perfect size,” he said, seeking to bolster her
confidence. He’d accumulated a respectable number of hours piloting small spacecraft,
and spent many more hours as crew. The bridge layout and operations bench were
familiar to him. He took his time exploring every inch of the ship until he had
a solid understanding of the scout’s capabilities and limitations.
Then he led her on a tour, keeping a running commentary of the
different features and functions for her benefit. Sid could see Juice’s comfort
level grow as they explored the four crew cabins, a combination exercise and community
room, a small galley, and a tech shop with equipment for in-flight repairs. All
of the rooms were small, but there was more than enough space for the two of
them should the mission stretch out over several days.
* * *
As Juice stepped aboard the scout,
she was in a somber state of mind. When she was thirteen years old, her older
brother had spent the summer with a couple of friends inventing what they
called their “personal space transport system.” Something had gone horribly
wrong during the inaugural flight. He had been a beacon in her life, and she had
been there to watch him die. She missed him terribly, and her first moments on board
the scout refreshed those tragic memories.
During the tour with Sid, she willed her mind back to the
present. She concentrated on his words as they walked through the ship and grew
more comfortable with the scout and the idea of a short trip into space. By the
end of the tour, she decided she would help and mentally prepared a to-do list.
It began with testing and approving Criss’s home, including installing a
restrictor mesh control switch. She used the onboard tech shop for the project
and was impressed with the respectable assortment of tools and equipment.
When she was done, she got Sid’s attention and showed him how
it worked. “It’s literally an old-style manual switch. See this cover? You have
to lift it to get access to the switch toggle. That’s so one of us can’t
accidentally bump it and set Criss free. I recommend you continue with him in isolate
mode for now.”
“Yeah,” said Sid. “I want to keep him involved, but I don’t
want him getting his first taste of freedom during this operation. There’s too
much at stake.”
“So that means the switch will stay in the middle. He can
see, hear, and access everything. But he can’t take any action himself, except
to talk, of course.” She caught Sid’s eye. “Since he can’t do anything, you’ll
be his hands. Work with him and he’ll make suggestions and recommendations.
Then you take the actions you think are the good ones.”
Sid nodded. “If I read this right, moving the switch up
turns the mesh off?”
“Yup. Up is off and Criss is free. He gains command and
control of the ship. Down is dead. It kills him. Literally. It doesn’t just
shut him down to be revived later. It destroys the crystal.” She pointed to a
button above the switch. “You need to press this and hold it as you move the
switch down. I want the action of killing to be a deliberate, multistep act,
and not something that can happen by accident.”
Juice set the switch to isolate and closed the switch cover.
“Any questions?” Sid shook his head no.
“We should get Criss in here as soon as possible,” she said.
“I want to check that everything is functioning properly. It’d also be good if you
started working with him so you can develop a stronger relationship. If you have
doubts or lack trust, things won’t go as smoothly as they otherwise might.”
That afternoon, Juice wrapped Defecto in a spare restrictor
mesh and placed him in Criss’s secure booth at Crystal Fab. She put Criss in a
travel case, unceremoniously brought him to the scout ship, and placed him in
his new home. Before giving her final approval, she ran through a comprehensive
battery of tests to ensure that he and the housing were operating properly.
Criss expressed disappointment at still being limited in his
actions. He even sought to manipulate Juice by invoking the whiny, human
you
promised
, but Juice held firm, and he soon stopped complaining.
She moved into one of the crew cabins to be near Criss, supporting
him as he concentrated his efforts on making sure that his abilities, though
limited, were functioning as best they could be. She watched with amusement as
he kept technicians on the go, scrambling to fix this and adjust that so
everything was running at peak performance.
In a surprisingly short time, all was ready. Sid loaded his
gear and started working the operations panel as the scout ship was towed to an
elevator and lifted to the surface.
“Please check your seat restraints,” he advised her.