Crystal Conquest (3 page)

Lenny’s car merged into a line of twenty
or so closely spaced vehicles zipping westward on the expressway. While his rational
mind tried to give a reality check to his runaway fantasies of wealth and power,
he ignored his brain’s stuffy caution and focused on how to get to his crystal.
The way to win a quest is to break the challenge into manageable steps.

The first of these was learning specifics about the Crystal
Research complex. He knew its location. The car was taking him there. But he
didn’t know details about the setting, who came and went, whether it was behind
walls or open to the public, or pretty much anything useful that would move him
closer to finding and taking possession of his prize.

The second task on his list was closely tied with the first.
And that was intel on this Juice Tallette. She was the key to finding the
crystal. What were the rhythms of her routine? When did she come to work and go
home? Who were her confidants? Where did she go during a typical day?

He activated a sophisticated observation service on his com.
It projected a live three-dimensional image of a location anywhere in the northeastern
United States. Using the service, he could study a place from all angles and
with extraordinary clarity. One of his professors had given him access to this government-grade
surveillance tool when he had been working on an earlier incarnation of his
senior-year project.

In that previous effort, he had envisioned a nib that analyzed
the movement of people and traffic within a neighborhood. His idea was that the
patterns in these travel flows would provide insights into a city’s commerce
structure. That knowledge, in turn, would benefit growth planning, resource
allocation, business investment decisions, and who knew what else.

It may not have worked, but it was a good idea.
His
early tests had revealed that local travel patterns didn’t tell enough of the
story. He should have known that people and stuff moved significant distances
in today’s world. He’d expanded the analysis from neighborhoods up to whole
cities and, when that still wasn’t a big enough picture, kept pushing until he could
analyze travel-flow patterns across several states.

And then a different problem had appeared. The massive volumes
of data from such a large region overwhelmed the meager ability of his travel pattern
nib. He’d admitted to himself that he wouldn’t be able to overcome this limitation.
He’d cut his losses and moved on to the truth nib project.

When struggling to develop the travel pattern nib, he’d become
skilled with the sophisticated observation service he now used to study Crystal
Research, a facility located a few hours north of New York City. Zooming in for
a closer look, he hovered above the site and noted it was in a wooded valley
that bordered on a huge forest preserve to the north.
Wow, I didn’t expect a
rural setting
.

He studied the complex from different angles, seeking a way he
might approach and lurk near the facility. His principal social behavior in his
daily life—hang around without drawing attention to himself—had provided him
years of practice.
How do I do that in an unpopulated, low-traffic setting?

As he considered his options, he rubbed small circles on his
temples with the tips of his fingers. It was an unconscious behavior that
emerged when he was deep in concentration. Then he realized what was bothering
him. The images were somehow off. He’d spent long hours studying these sorts of
views while trying to make his commerce project work.
I know normal, and
this isn’t that.

This realization gave him an idea. He popped the truth nib
out of his com, slid his butt forward on the seat, and fished a small pouch out
of his pocket. He opened it and eyed the other two bits of crystal nestled inside.
He looked at his prank nib and unconsciously licked his lips. He placed the
truth nib into the pouch, picked up the prank nib, and conjured an image of
Monica as he rolled the bit of crystal between his fingers.

Intending it to be a fun toy, he’d used late-night lab time
to create a sophisticated clone-and-spoof device. As he walked past a friend’s room,
he’d use the prank nib to reset the morning alarm to an ungodly early hour. Or in
the cafeteria, he’d override the drink dispenser and have the liquid keep flowing
when his mark pulled the cup away. In today’s automated society, the
opportunities for hilarity and fun were endless.

In his search for opportunities for clever mischief, he’d discovered
a security monitor in the dorm locker room. Using his prank nib, he had found he
could override the vid pickup and move it to an extreme angle so it caught a view
into the first shower stall. Excited by this new opportunity, he’d envisioned
capturing one of his buddies in an embarrassing act and feeding the mortifying
experience to the world.

But the first victim he caught on record had been Monica. He’d
watched her shower, thinking about the first time she had strutted down the
hallway at the start of the semester. The feed he had collected was amazing.
Her perfect body lived up to his wildest imagination. At that moment, he’d
realized he could have more fun if he restricted the use of his prank nib to carefully
selected private opportunities.

Returning to the task at hand, he dropped the bit of crystal
back into the pouch and fished out the travel pattern nib. He slid it into his
com, put the Crystal Research complex in the center of the display, and tweaked
the settings so the mapping would go beyond the default movements of people and
vehicles.

He included the movement of clouds, birds, and land animals in
the evaluation, spent a moment considering if there were other physical objects
that moved across geographic boundaries, shrugged when he couldn’t think of
any, and launched an analysis. He furrowed his brow as patterns began to emerge
in the three-dimensional map image. Zooming out, the patterns became more
defined. He zoomed out further still and resumed rubbing his temples.

His travel pattern nib detected an anomaly that extended
around Crystal Research and up into the forest preserve. Its shape was irregular
but contiguous, rambling like the outline of a puddle.

The plot of land within this anomaly was big.
It’d take me
a half hour to drive across.
He confirmed it wasn’t a failure of his algorithm
by performing the identical analysis on several nearby locations. The odd
result didn’t recur. But his nib found an irregularity in the picture every
time he looked at Crystal Research and its environs.

He zoomed in on an edge of the splotch and watched as a
cloud moved toward it and across its edge. It was hard to say for sure, but if
he concentrated, it seemed like the cloud changed shape as it passed into the
odd zone.

Focusing on a road, he waited for a car to cross. He spotted
a satin-gray coupe moving fast as it hugged a curve and accelerated toward the edge
of the mysterious puddle. It reached the boundary, disappeared for half a
heartbeat, and reappeared, the same yet somehow different.
Could forged data
be corrupting the system?

Lenny had a trained eye for evaluating map images, and the
differences he saw were so subtle that he couldn’t state with certainty that
anything was amiss. Yet his travel pattern nib found and displayed the same
splotch every time it focused on that section of land.

Sitting back in the seat of the car, he pondered this new
information. He figured that somebody, maybe the government, maybe the staff at
Juice’s company, had discovered a way to keep snoops from monitoring the goings-on
at the facility. Whatever the case, he couldn’t progress in his planning until
he had a proper view of the site and surroundings.

His first idea was to use the ubiquitous public monitors positioned
throughout society. But if a sophisticated government surveillance system was
corrupted, could he trust simple monitoring feeds?
No.
He knew from
experience these had weak security.
Hell
, he thought,
it took seconds
for my prank nib to take control of the one I use to watch Cynthia through her
dorm window.

Energized by the challenge of collecting reliable visual
intel, he turned off the nib analysis and used his com for a more traditional activity.
He located a specialty store and selected a couple of items he thought would
serve his needs. After confirming that the store could deliver these to an
expressway travel center about an hour down the road, he funded the purchase
and instructed the car nav to drive to the center.

He slumped into the seat and closed his eyes. It had been way
too long since he’d slept; even an hour of shut-eye would be welcome.

Lenny surfaced from his slumber to the sound of an annoying
ding. The car signaled his arrival at the expressway center. Yawning, he rubbed
his eyes, scratched his stomach, then peered out through the window.
Travel
dump would be more descriptive
, he thought as he climbed out of the car.

The bright sun caused him to squint as he looked back and
forth, surveying the limited amenities. “Go park. I’ll be an hour,” he called
over his shoulder.

Entering the door marked Travel Service, he found himself in
a small, crowded room. He got in line and waited for the people ahead to
complete their business.

When Lenny’s turn arrived, he stepped up to the window. His
com verified his identity, and a window whooshed open, revealing a small
package. Scooping it up, he walked around the other people in line as he tore
away the delivery envelope and tossed the waste in a trash chute near the door.

He stepped back into the sun and eyed the contents of the package.
Looks like a jewelry box.
Covered with a black felt-like material, the
box opened in the middle along a hinge at the back. He palmed his prize and walked
next door to the food carousel.

Snagging a booth near a window, he set the box on the table
and turned it so the hinge faced away from him. Letting his anticipation build,
he examined its smooth exterior, then turned his attention to food. He skimmed
the menu and spoke the moment he saw his favorite meal. “One slice of
three-cheese pizza. One large Fried Side energy drink.”

Turning his attention back to his box, he picked it up,
lifted the lid, and peered inside. Before he could visually digest the
contents, a small cubby door opened at the end of the booth. He set the open
box back on the table and reached over to retrieve his meal. Taking a long pull
from his energy drink, he eyed the two items nestled inside the small case.

He reached inside and, using his thumb and forefinger,
gently lifted out the camball. An orb the size of a grape, it had more than a hundred
tiny faces joined to form a small faceted sphere.
It’s like the gaudy decorations
mom hangs in a sunny window to reflect light.

The camball offered the amazing ability of recording an
image feed through each facet, collecting vid input in every direction all the
time. This made it a fantastic tool for surveillance, because as long as there
was a clear line of sight, at least one of the facets would always be pointing and
recording exactly where he’d want to look. His idea was to hang it somewhere
outside Crystal Research—a bush probably—and watch the activity near the complex
as it actually happened.

Setting the ball on the table, he eyed it as he took a bite
of his pizza. Surprised by the savory wash of flavor from what he expected would
be bland roadside fare, he took a second bite, enjoyed the moment, and set his
slice on the plate.

Accessing his com, he practiced using the vid streams to
look at different things in the dining area. He found it intuitive to scan the camball
facets and locate the one pointing in the direction of interest, and he soon
learned how to scan backward in time to see what had been happening in any
direction he chose.

He heard laughing and looked up. Two college-age girls were
making a grand entrance, taking turns whispering to each other and giggling after
each exchange. They both had dangly earrings that twirled as they walked.

Strolling down the aisle, they glanced at him and averted
their eyes. Lenny barely noticed because his focus was on their short skirts. His
heart beat faster as he shifted the camball out to the edge of his table. “Thank
you,” he mouthed, glancing skyward. Checking his com, he reassured himself he
was still recording.

They chose a booth across the aisle and down one table from
where he was sitting.
This is great,
he thought, his excitement growing.
The cutie facing him slid into the booth seat and crossed her legs at the knee.

When she was seated, he located the facet that had the
proper angle and replayed the episode. Twice. To his disappointment, she’d
performed her sit-and-leg-cross maneuver without revealing the slightest
glimpse of the mysteries beneath that scrap of a skirt.
Damn.

He picked up the small jewel box and tilted it so his second
purchase—a light, fashionable chain—poured into his open palm. He hooked the
camball to it, looped the chain over his neck, and used his com to see how he
looked.
Not my style, but I’ll pretend it’s an accent piece.

Lenny finished his meal and, as he wiped his mouth, slid out
of the booth.
Go for it
, he urged himself. Letting the opportunity of
the moment override his natural shyness, he stopped at the girls’ table and
leaned forward so the ball swung freely between them. “I just bought this
bauble,” he said. “Do you like it?”

Both girls looked at each other, covered their mouths, and
giggled. He could hear some discomfort in their laughs, but he didn’t care. Walking
to the exit, he made a mental note to check out the facet vids later to see if
he got any good cleavage shots.