Crystal Conquest (8 page)

Snatching one of the bars when it was level with his head, he
swung in a graceful arc inside the dome and performed a dismount, passing feet first
through a side triangle. He turned a twisting double somersault in the air outside
the dome and stuck his landing, feet together and with no falter step.

Juice clapped.

* * *

Juice walked over to Crispin, who
stood motionless and at attention where he’d landed. Criss kept pace beside
her. “You’re thinking of having Crispin confront Lenny?” she said. “Won’t Sid
be here?”

“Yes, and yes,” said Criss. “Sid’s on schedule, but he’ll benefit
from having backup. He left his best men with Cheryl. Crispin can add to a show
of force.”

“It’s a kid we’re talking about, right?” She squared up in front
of Crispin and leaned in to study his frozen facial features while talking with
Criss. “I’ve seen Sid intimidate some dreadfully tough men. How much force do
we need to tell this punk to go away?”

With Juice’s face close to Crispin’s, the synbod opened its
eyes and said, “Boo!”

Juice yipped and jumped back. Crispin smiled at her reaction
and continued the conversation. “I’m watching Lenny as he makes progress in his
journey here to this facility. The young man knows someone is putting up hurdles
to slow him down. Lenny sees this as a treasure-hunt game. He’ll keep at it
until he finds out who he’s playing against, and if he learns that an AI
crystal is his opponent, he’ll continue to buzz around trying to gain
possession of me.”

“Think of him like a housefly,” said the projected image of
Criss. Juice looked from Crispin over to Criss, back to Crispin, and again to
Criss. She understood Criss was teasing her with a double-team act. At the same
time, she began to see the benefit Crispin might offer in any number of
situations.

“Every time we shoo him away,” said Criss, “he’ll return and
hover. The way to stop a housefly is to swat it.”

Juice furrowed her brow and tightened her lips. “You will
not use physical challenges. Handle it another way.” Her delivery left no doubt
this was a command from his leadership.

Criss changed the subject without acknowledging her words.
“Would you consider putting your new crystal inside Crispin?”

The request was so random, so out of the blue, that she
stood mute, struggling to wrap her mind around his words. The idea was far
afield from their current conversation, and it deviated from her existing plans
for the crystal.

After two years of intensive effort to get to this point, she
was emotionally invested in her new crystal’s success. She felt a need to refute
her doubters, and that meant launching a comprehensive program of testing and
assessment monitored by outside experts.
I’ve already invited a group of
scientists to come to the unveiling.

But in those same two years, she’d come to trust Criss. His
knowledge and insights were beyond brilliant. He viewed a picture so big she could
never begin to comprehend it. And there was no doubt in her mind he cared for
her and looked out for her best interests.

Her choices—either the immediate deployment of her crystal
in a synbod or a meticulous program of testing—were in direct conflict. Struggling
with the pressure from this unexpected request, she turned to the door and took
three steps, stopped, and looked back at both of them. “What?”

Crispin walked to Juice. His pace was slow, and she saw a
familiar gentleness in his solemn expression. She scanned the area and noted
that Criss’s projected image was gone. Crispin stood next to her and gently
stroked her shoulder.

“I understand this is a lot to take in. I hadn’t planned on presenting
the synbod to you in this way, nor had I planned on asking you to change your
crystal development schedule on short notice. But I hadn’t planned on Lenny,
either.”

She studied Crispin’s eyes as she searched for evidence of the
AI being she knew as Criss. At an intuitive level, she felt his aura of
presence. Physically, she saw that the two looked and moved the same. And their
phrasings and mannerisms were identical.

She felt a moment of resentment over the burden he placed on
her. But she knew he wouldn’t make this sort of request on a whim. He’d thought
it through on levels she could only imagine.

Deliberating for a few moments more, she signaled her
decision by slumping into him, hugging herself for reassurance as she did so. When
he enveloped her in a gentle embrace, she rested her head against his chest.

He spoke to her in a soft cadence. “If we put your new AI
crystal inside this body, Crispin will be able to function at a modest level
without my moment-to-moment involvement. I’ll still be with him most of the
time, controlling his words and actions. But with your crystal in place, I can
leave him when I have an urgent need for my resources elsewhere. While I’m
gone, it will keep him animate and contributing until I return.”

He stopped talking, and she absorbed the idea that it wouldn’t
always be him speaking through Crispin’s mouth. She trusted him but sought
reassurance. Whispering into the material of his fatigues, she expressed her
worries. “But the crystal’s brand new. It hasn’t been tested. It needs to be
trained.”

Tightening his hug, Criss said, “I’ve reviewed the test
results, and the crystal is ready to be put to work. If you let me, I can train
it for the role of Crispin.”

They stood silently for most of a minute, then Juice lifted
her head, raised an arm, and ran her fingers through his hair. “You did a great
job on this body, Criss.”

Giving his ear a playful tug, she spun out of his grasp and
giggled as she ran for the door. She stopped and turned after a few steps. He
hadn’t moved. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

He met her gaze but didn’t respond. She knew he wouldn’t
have asked if he thought otherwise.

“If you’ll be gone sometimes, how will I know when I’m
talking with my crystal and when I’m talking to you?”

She heard his voice inside her head. “The crystal won’t be
able to speak to you directly, and it won’t know about the private things we
share.”

Tilting her head, she assumed a distant look as she tried to
think of examples.

“And how are you today, young lady?” she heard in her ear.

Her grin returned and her response was automatic. “I’m fine,
thank you. And how are you today, young man?”

Following the script, he replied, “I’m doing fine, thank
you.” He watched her for a long moment. “Would you walk with me to look at your
crystal? I’ll show you where it goes inside this body.”

Lenny finished his sandwich,
returned to the car, and sat fuming. City traffic choked the narrow street and blocked
his car from moving in either direction. He put his elbows on his knees and
rubbed his temples with his fingertips, brainstorming ways to get his adventure
back underway.
A traffic jam makes no sense.

Annoyed he hadn’t thought of it sooner, he shifted forward
on the seat, dug into his pocket, and fished out his nib pouch. He picked out
the travel pattern nib, popped it into his com, and viewed a three-dimensional
image of his immediate area.

He could see traffic blocking his path in both directions but
couldn’t find a cause for the snarl-up. And the streets were clear and traffic flowed
smoothly a block on either side of his street. He broadened the image view and
confirmed there were no traffic problems anywhere else in town between here and
the expressway.

There’s no way this is a random event
. He shook his
head to underscore his suspicion. He zoomed in to study his immediate surroundings
and noted an alley at the end of the row of shops to his right. It connected his
street to one where traffic was flowing free and clear.

“Drive to the end of this row of buildings and turn down an alley
called…” He squinted at the display as he looked for a name but couldn’t find
one. He put his face against the window and read the names of the businesses on
either side of the alley. “…the alley between Hebert’s and Sinful Sweets.”

“Yes, sir,” said the nav. “There are vehicles blocking our
path forward. We will proceed as soon as we are able.”

“Drive up on the walkway.”

“I am sorry, sir. That is unlawful. We are prohibited from taking
that route.”

Lenny stared at the smooth, bare surface of the front
console beneath the windshield, wishing there were manual override controls he
could use. “This is a medical emergency,” he said, smug that his mind offered
such an inspired solution unbidden. His eyes flitted around the image of the city
projected from his com and landed on a large facility a few blocks away. “You
must get me to Mercy Hospital without delay.”

“Shall I call emergency services?” asked the nav.

Lenny’s cheeks puffed as he exhaled.
Modern technology is
so frigging annoying.
“No,” he repeated. “This is a medical emergency. Take
me to Mercy Hospital immediately.”

The car responded by edging one set of wheels up on the
walkway so it could skirt the vehicles ahead. It tooted at an elderly woman standing
in front of them, who moved to the side after offering an angry gesture.

“Sir,” said the nav, “I have executed a crisis override
procedure. Emergency services have been notified of this event.”

The car nosed into the narrow alley and started down its
length. Not a lot wider than the car itself, steep walls of aging red brick hemmed
Lenny in on either side and gave him the feeling of being in a tunnel. Sunlight
pouring in through the exit at the far end of the alley served to reinforce the
tunnel sensation.

As his car progressed down the lane, he watched traffic on
the road ahead move smoothly in both directions. He was about three quarters of
the way along when a car from that street pulled into the alley and advanced in
his direction. It stopped when the two cars were nose-to-nose. Lenny’s car
tooted. The interloper didn’t budge.

Peering through the windshield, Lenny admired the metallic
sheen of the high-performance private sportster.
Must be rich.
He
couldn’t hear the guy in the other car, but he could see him. The fellow turned
red-faced as he screamed and jabbed his finger at his fancy nav. It was clear
to Lenny that driving into the alley hadn’t been this guy’s idea. Glancing at the
front console in his own rental, he sympathized with the fellow’s frustration.

He threw his arm up on the seat and looked behind to see if they
might back their way out of the alley. Another car had been following them, this
one a yellow public cab. It nosed up close behind his car and stopped. His car
tooted again, but neither car moved.
I’m trapped.

Sitting back in his seat, Lenny sifted through possibilities
in his mind. And then he smiled. From his perspective, this was solid evidence he
was being manipulated, and that meant the game had been elevated to the next
level. Clapping his hands in excitement, he thought,
But who am I playing
against? And how many levels are there?

He opened the door and stepped out, grabbed his backpack off
the seat, and slung it over his shoulder. Leaning inside, he said, “Car, you
are now available for hire. If you don’t get another fare, return to your nearest
partner garage and close out my account.”

He shut the door and continued down the alley on foot, edging
past the sports car carrying the red-faced man. “Nice ride,” he called. The man
didn’t respond.

When he reached the intersection where the alley joined the
street, Lenny spied a pedestrian seat nestled on the walkway between two trees.
Sitting in the shade with his pack at his feet, he watched the traffic flow
smoothly in front of him as he considered his next steps.

If the game was unfolding as he imagined—if he was being
challenged by the super crystal—that meant his com was now his enemy.
As
long as I’m linked to the web, it’ll know what I’m doing and stay ahead of me.
He pondered this for a bit. Without his com, he wouldn’t have the communication
and information services he relied on all day, every day, for almost everything
he did.

Scanning the area, he acknowledged that his com wasn’t his
only weak spot. Public-space monitors, invisible but ubiquitous, were certainly
watching and recording him. In the same way his com was vulnerable to snooping
by the super crystal, so would the record from these devices.

Shifting his attention across the street, he surveyed the storefronts
he could see from his vantage point. He turned his head in a steady motion, scanning
down the row of shops. While he kept his head moving, he let his eyes linger on
Sal’s Hobby Emporium.

He hadn’t bought anything in a physical store in forever and,
up until this moment, considered them to be quaint anachronisms. Now he found
himself glad there were people who preferred the tactile experience of browsing.
It let merchants of this sort stay in business, and it gave him options.

Certain he was being challenged by an unseen opponent, Lenny
sought to confirm it with a simple experiment. Cars were parked in neat rows in
front of him along both sides of the street. A brown family van sat in the space
two cars down to his left.

Strolling over to the van, he walked in a slow circle around
it, observing that it was clean and reasonably new—perhaps two years old. He peered
through several of the windows during his circuit, leaning close and lingering
as he looked.

Returning to the pedestrian seat, he used his com to view
the schematics for the van’s nav system. Within moments, the van activated and
trundled off down the street, empty of passengers. Scowling for show, he did a
happy dance in his head.
Even crabby old Professor Huffington would accept
this as proof I’m being manipulated
.

Though the van was gone, he returned to studying the
schematics, working through the details of how the nav communicated with the
web and how it actuated the steering, throttle, and brakes.

He learned that the nav communicated with the web through a
link nestled front and center inside the roof of the car, a hand-width back
from where the roofline met the windshield. Flipping to a different feed, he
learned how to gain access to the nav. For the family van, it was through an access
panel located inside the passenger cabin, underneath the front console.

Lenny looked up, and his gaze fell on a blue sedan parked
across the street and down about ten spaces. Calling up the schematics for that
car, he reviewed the material, noting that access to the nav and the location
of the nav web link were the same for the car as they were for the van. He
didn’t look up when the sedan activated and drove away, though he followed it using
his peripheral vision.

True to the curiosity of his genius, he became fascinated with
the inner workings of navs and links, and spent twenty minutes zipping through two
tutorials on the subject. The most useful tidbit he learned was that the vehicle
industry had converged on a set of standards, and anything built in the last
five years followed the same general nav and web link design.

His preparation complete, Lenny sat back and watched the ebb
and flow of people and traffic, soaking in the rhythm of the neighborhood while
his idea germinated. He worked under the assumption that his unseen opponent
could foil any scheme, no matter how clever.

Given this, there was no point in refining anything past a
rough outline filled with broad brushstrokes. The one firm bullet point in his
plan was to remain nimble and react quickly when hurdles were thrown in his
path.

He decided to add a second bullet.
Don’t die playing a
stupid game.