Crystal Conquest (23 page)

Standing inside what he hoped was an air-tight envelope, he
keyed the door. It didn’t move. He keyed it again, this time pushing on the
door with both hands and kicking it with his foot. It slid halfway open, and a
rush of air from the hallway pushed out, billowing the sheet material like a
boat’s sail catching fresh wind.

He slipped inside and began tugging the door, coaxing it to
close as he keyed it shut. He flicked a glance at the sheet straining to
contain the life-giving air inside the hallway. A portion of tape had started a
slow peel from the wall. Spurred by the sight, he squared up in front of the door’s
edge, lifted a foot and braced it against the jamb, arched his back, and pulled
with both hands. The door began moving, and he rotated inside as it slid shut.

Light in the tunnel-like hallway came from a single source.
Cheryl sat on the floor, unmoving. Her head slumped forward; her back propped
against the wall. Her hands curled around her brightly lit com in her lap.

Sid ran to her side. “Cheryl,” he
called as he pulled an oxygen mask out of his pack. Placing it over her nose
and mouth, he triggered the flow of gas.

He pulled her off the wall, squatted behind her, and let her
slump back into him. Bending her arms so her hands were back in her lap, he
grasped her elbows and lifted out and up.

“Flap your wings,” he said, using the instructions they’d
learned together years ago in training camp. He raised both her elbows in
matching arcs upward, and by doing so, lifted her diaphragm to inflate her
lungs. Letting her arms drop, he reached around her in a bear hug and squeezed
slowly to force an exhale.

He repeated the procedure, forcing breaths with each
manipulation. A green dot on the oxygen mask lit, signaling that she breathed
on her own. Leaning her back against the wall, he grabbed his com and used it to
evaluate her vital signs. Her eyes opened at the same moment his com indicated
she was recovering. They popped wide and she recoiled.

“It’s me, sweetie. Sid.”

She hesitated for a moment and relaxed. Using her fingers,
she probed her face.

He angled his head and examined the purple welt on her chin.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She reached up and touched behind her head. He probed gently
and felt the swelling, but the skin wasn’t broken. Holding open each eye, he used
his com to scan her retinas. “No sign of concussion,” he said, looking at the
display.

He let her sit, giving her time to re-orient and recover.
She spread her arms and straightened her back, reminding Sid of a person
stretching after waking up in the morning. Feeling a wash of relief and joy at
the sight of her animation and alert behavior, he thought about giving her a
hug. He settled for stroking her arm.

“What happened?” she asked, lifting the mask.

“The Kardish attacked Lunar Base and now are orbiting
Earth.”

“Do you have any water?”

While he fished in his pack, she said, “Criss, give me an
update.”

Sid held his finger up in front of his faceplate near his
mouth. He toggled to local communication. “Is Criss talking to you?” he asked.

“No. He’s not responding. I hear silence. It’s weird.”

“He’s down. He disappeared out of my head about the same
time the Kardish appeared, so it seems pretty clear the two are connected.”

Cheryl looked at the pile of fallen rock and brought her
fingers to her lips. “Grace is in there.” She looked at Sid, her eyes blinking
rapidly.

Thinking about the fate of Hop, Jefe, and Dent, Sid leaned
in and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I’m sorry. The next days are going
to be rough.”

He took her space coveralls out of his pack. “Let’s get you
dressed.” Picking up a foot, he fed her leg into the suit. “First priority is
to get you up to the scout. We can talk more when you’re safe. Lenny’s up
there, by the way.” He fed her other foot into the coveralls. “Can you stand?
This will be a whole lot easier if you help.”

Holding both her hands, he pulled her upright and she
finished suiting up. He lifted his finger near his mouth, pointed upward, and
toggled to open communication.

“Hey, Len, I have her and she’s okay. We’re coming up.”

* * *

“That’s great news,” said Lenny,
slumping back in the pilot’s chair. He’d been tracking Cheryl through her com
since he’d found her. With a swipe and tap, he’d enabled sound when Sid reached
her. So he heard everything, and it made him wonder.

Sid had told him that the government was testing direct ground
support technology to feed him intel.
So why did they need to act all
private about it?
And it seemed curious that they’d refer to ground
support—a group of people and crystals—in the singular and call it a “he.” Then
again, Lucy was two crystals, and she was just called Lucy.

Since they both were connected to direct ground support, or
had been anyway, this lent credence to Sid’s story that Cheryl held a special
status, and perhaps she had rare skills that would prove useful against the
Kardish. The two were certainly lovers, but there was more going on here than a
lovesick guy risking everything to rescue his lady.

Their exchange had provided some answers, but it also opened
new questions. He wanted to know more.
Tap
. He started a record of their
conversations. Eventually, he’d learn enough so all the pieces made sense.

* * *

The sight and sound of Kardish
weapons caused Criss to react. He pushed Juice flat on the ground, stepped over
her, and took two running leaps, each sending him soaring more than twenty
human steps.

His second leap landed him behind a huge oak tree, its
mighty branches stretching up into the forest canopy. The Kardish fired their
weapons as he sailed through the air, but they underestimated his speed and
agility, and each energy bolt zipped behind him.

At the base of the tree, he squatted and jumped straight up,
the massive trunk acting as a barrier protecting him from the threat. He
reached a thick branch high above the ground, landed on all fours like a cat,
and leapt again. For this second jump, he projected himself out, flying above
what he now saw were two Kardish soldiers, both with their weapons drawn, and
both peering in the direction of the base of the oak tree.

Still flying through the air, he grasped a branch above and
behind the aliens. He swung up as he stopped his forward motion, flipped over
so he was facing downward, and waited for gravity to take over. They were still
looking toward the tree when he landed behind them.

He didn’t give them time to react. With his fingers arched
back, he snapped both of his arms forward. His lower palms connected with the
base of each one’s neck, and they crumpled in silence at his feet.

Criss bent over each and rifled their clothes, collecting
weapons, communicators, tools—any device he could find. Without taking time to
study or analyze his cache, he stuffed everything in a carry pack one of them
had dropped.

He lifted the larger of the two off the ground, slung him
over his shoulder, and scrambled high up into the large oak tree. He propped
the alien in a crook between a branch and the trunk, dropped to the ground, and
repeated the process for the smaller soldier.

When he landed on the ground a second time, he snatched up
the carry pack full of devices and said to Juice. “I’ll be back in a minute.
Stay hidden.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond. Dashing around a stand of
trees, he headed deep into the woods. He ran as fast as the synbod was able for
half a minute, fell to his knees, dug a hole, dropped the pack in, pushed the
dirt back in place, scattered leaves to hide the hole, and ran back to Juice.

“Hurry.” He took her hand, and together they dashed down the
hill.

Nighttime was coming and he needed to stop and let Juice
sleep. They would start again before dawn and make a sprint for the lodge. Having
already consumed the last of their provisions, by the end of tomorrow, he would
be approaching a do-or-die status where the synbod would need milk.

As the darkness intensified, he stopped beneath yet another
majestic tree with broad branches high off the ground. “Ready for bed, young
lady?” He squatted in front of her, and she let out a small yelp of surprise as
he pulled her over his shoulder. Carrying her up into the tree, he set her down
on a branch.

“Hold on,” he said, guiding her hand to a branch for support.

Criss sat on a thick limb near her, leaned back against the
trunk, and let his legs hang down on either side. Fluffing the few pieces of
clothes they’d kept from the night before, he set them on the broad surface in
front of him, then helped her climb up and sit on the bit of padding.

She leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around
her. She sighed.

After a bit, she asked, “Where did you go with that stuff
from the soldiers?”

“My sense is that some of those devices can be tracked.” He
adjusted her thermal cape as he spoke, ensuring her warmth and concealment.
“I’m hoping that when the Kardish find the carry pack but no sign of the
soldiers, the mystery will consume time and cause them to move slower and with
more care. None of them will want to be the next victims.”

Bringing his knees up on either side of her, he secured her
in a cradle. He rested his chin on top of her head and hummed a quiet lullaby.
It took her most of an hour to fall asleep, and he remained still for the next
seven.

He spent that time working through billions of what-if
scenarios. In the distance, he heard the Kardish and drones searching near
where he’d attacked the soldiers. Eventually they’d move on. He hoped he and
Juice had a few more hours before that happened.

He put his odds of getting to the milk supply before the
synbod’s strength faded at about fifty-fifty. He fretted most about Juice. If
the synbod’s energy failed, she would act heroically in an attempt to secure
the life-giving liquid on her own. No words he could say would stop her.

He feared she would die trying to
save him.

* * *

Cheryl sat on Sid’s bunk and let him
play medic. At an emotional level, she was in shock from learning that everyone
on Lunar Base was missing and presumed dead. But she’d been hardened enough
over the past couple of years to know that grieving was a luxury.
The
Kardish threaten Earth,
she thought, building resolve.
Defeating them is
my priority.

Sid used the scout’s medical scan to run a full diagnostic.
It confirmed she didn’t have a concussion and her bruised jaw wasn’t broken.
Once she knew she was okay, she waved him away and stood in front of the
mirror. He sprawled on the bunk and watched her.

She tilted her head back and examined her chin, wincing at
the sight of the purple splotch. She’d taken meds to reduce the pain and
accelerate healing.
This will take a week to fade
, she thought, turning
her head left and right to see it from both sides.

She stripped off her clothes and used the room projector to
examine her naked body. The inspection revealed a nasty bruise on her thigh.
Turning, she put her foot up on the bed and tilted her leg so she could see the
bruise directly. Sid sat up and helped her look. She waited until he lifted his
eyes to meet hers and gave him a smile she hoped showed she was ready to carry
her weight in whatever came next.

“How’s Lenny working out?” she asked, stepping into the mist
shower.

“The guy’s a tech wizard. You’re here because of him.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him. I had my doubts about him, given
the stories I’d heard.”

As she washed, she considered that the defense array hadn’t
detected the Kardish vessel, even though Criss had been clear that their
arrival was imminent. And the aliens had wiped out Lunar Base before the array
could get off a single shot. Given that, she couldn’t see a path forward, even
with Lenny’s tech wizardry.

She hoped Sid’s improvising skills might provide a solution.
“What do we do now?”

“That’s a tough one. We have three people, two goals, and
one ship.”

“What are our goals?”

“Get Criss back in the game. And stop the Kardish.”

She flipped on the dry cycle, and as the warm air whooshed
around her, said, “I don’t have any fresh clothes. Would you see if there’s
anything I can borrow from the crew closet?”

“Sure thing.”

When she stepped out of the shower, he remained slouched on
the bed. He wasn’t looking her in the eyes. “Oh, you meant now?” he asked,
feigning innocence.

Deep in the recesses of her mind, she flashed appreciation
that, in spite of her bruised appearance, he seemed to find her attractive. She
stepped over to the closet, cycled through the options, and found clothes in
her size and style.

“Good for you, Criss,” she said as she pulled them out. She
turned her back to him as she dressed. “What’s wrong with us all going to get
Criss first and then going after the Kardish?”

“I don’t know what his problem is. It may be a malfunction.
Maybe the Kardish have him. If we do get him in our possession, how long will
it take Juice to get him secure and back in the game? And if the three of us
are taken out trying to help him, what options are left for Earth?”

“You think Juice is okay?” she asked, the crease in her
forehead reflecting her worry.

“She has to be. Every plan I improvise includes you, Criss,
and Juice in the mix. We all need to be helping and supporting each other.”

Cheryl hadn’t digested the subtext of his message when he
stood and enveloped her in his arms. She welcomed the physical contact and his
gentle manner and melted against him.

“All my best ideas have us first splitting into two teams,”
he said. “Lenny and I will find a way aboard the dreadnaught. You take the
scout, go get Juice and Criss, and hightail it back here as fast as you can.”

She pulled her head back and looked into his eyes. “You want
me to go alone?”
No way. Piloting a ship solo is dangerous
. Injury and
even death too often occurred for want of an extra pair of eyes or hands
helping with some otherwise routine task.

Holding her hand, he sat on the bed and coaxed her down next
to him. She sat and waited for an explanation, but he didn’t say anything. Thinking
about the “three people, two goals, and one ship” dilemma, she tried to
rationalize such a high-risk action.

Crazy stunts aren’t my thing, but these circumstances are
anything but normal.
Her military training added a leave-no-one-behind
impulse when she thought about Juice—her teammate and best friend—stranded without
support in the midst of an alien invasion. And she couldn’t come up with an
alternative for getting Criss back in the game.