Juice digressed to recount the details of the restrictor mesh. She emphasized that Criss was now in isolate mode, making him incapable of taking independent action.
“I believe Criss is self-aware and has conscious thought.” She looked down at her hands. “I’d always thought that if this ever happened, it would be news I’d be presenting at a world scientific conference.” She looked back up and scanned their faces. “Anyway, I mention the mesh because, right now, that’s how we’re keeping him under control. If we set him free, he’ll be able to take command of the entire web and all things connected. In today’s world, that’s pretty much everything. If he decides to rebel against our restrictions or deviate from the path we want him to take, I don’t know what we could do about it.”
She added some drama to underscore her worry. “At the extremes, we could be releasing the greatest force for human progress in all of history, or the most dominating overlord we could imagine. We won’t know in advance. And once we release him, we pretty much have to take what we get.”
“If Criss is such a risk,” asked Cheryl, “why did you develop him?”
Juice had thought about that question a lot and didn’t like what she had learned about herself. “I suppose it’s because I could. I know that’s a horrible answer, but it’s the most honest. I’m a scientist, and this project was the greatest challenge I could imagine. When Sheldon offered me the job, I said yes without even asking about the salary. I never considered the implications of success.”
Everyone remained quiet and waited for Juice to continue. “I feel it’s my duty to caution you that Criss has the potential to become dangerous. But in my heart, I believe he’ll help humanity.”
“I’m new to all this,” said Jack, “so maybe I’m not seeing something right. But from where I sit, this seems like a no-brainer. We have this super crystal that mysterious aliens want. If we don’t give it to them, they might destroy us. And if we keep it for ourselves, the crystal itself might destroy us. My skilled analyst’s mind tells me we either give it to the Kardish, or maybe we kill the damn thing and tell the Kardish they can go to bloody hell.”
Juice was stunned by Jack’s proposal. Even though she was the one who had added “kill” as an option to the restrictor mesh, she never expected to use it, at least not this way. In the midst of her distress, her churning brain provided some optimism.
“I can see four options,” she said, hoping they didn’t misinterpret the emphasis in her voice as a lack of cooperation. “We keep him. We give him to the Kardish. We kill him and no one gets him. Or…we build another and we both get one.”
Sid leaned forward. “You could do that? Build another? How long would it take to make a duplicate Criss?”
“We just finished building him, so the crystal fabrication unit is set up and ready to go. The template the gang of one hundred designed is still in position, and we have the flake in stock. At this point, it’s pretty much babysitting really high-tech equipment. I’d say Mick and I could run the fab process and finish in about a week, give or take. But that means we start today, and we work flat out and around the clock. Sheldon would have to cooperate, though, or it could never happen.”
Chapter 10
Brady Sheldon hurried along a downtown walkway, calculating—not for the first time—whether he’d made the right call by allowing Juice to move forward with the production of another four-gen crystal. He hoped that a second crystal provided a pathway for meeting the expectations of both Fleet and the Kardish, and fretted that Victoria Wellstone would call and tell him that the Kardish now wanted both four-gens.
He was deep in thought when an unfamiliar man appeared to his left, crowding him as if he were in line at a popular deli. Sheldon looked up and asked rhetorically, “May I help you?”
At the moment he spoke, another man—he recognized him immediately as the pysch analyst who had paid a visit to the four-gen several days prior—sidled up on his right. Sheldon looked over at Sid with concern. Had Victoria Wellstone done something dumb, something he was now going to pay for?
“Hey,” Sheldon said, thinking only of self-preservation, “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Do with what?” Sid asked.
While Sheldon was considering how to respond, the man on his left reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Sheldon felt a sting and immediately became dazed. He found himself being supported by both men as they escorted him into a car that was trailing them.
Sheldon surfaced slowly, his head in a fog. He opened his eyes and sensed he was lying on his back in a dimly lit room. He could hear activity around him but could not recognize the sounds. The place had a bizarre mixture of odors that included the oily smell of machinery, the tang of leather, and a syrupy scent like medicine.
Sid’s face appeared inches from his. “Mmfff,” Sheldon screamed. That’s when he realized something was stuffed in his mouth.
“Hello, Dr. Sheldon,” said Sid. “Do you remember me?”
“Mmfff,” Sheldon’s eyes darted back and forth as he sought to understand what was happening to him.
Sid pulled the rubber ball from his mouth using the collar attached to it.
Sheldon made a scene of licking his lips. “I’m parched. I need some water.”
Sid slapped him. When Sheldon couldn’t move his hands to touch his stinging cheek, he struggled briefly and realized he was securely bound. Still groggy, he couldn’t tell from his vantage point that he was strapped, hands, feet, and body, to a medical chair.
“Do you remember me, Dr. Sheldon?” Sid repeated in a voice that carried a sharp edge.
Sheldon studied him for a moment. “You’re that psych expert that came and interviewed the crystal. Hey, good work.” He was desperate to make a connection. “I hear that we’re on track for moving it up to the Alliance. That’s great news.”
He stopped talking when Sid slapped him a second time.
“Listen carefully,” Sid instructed him. “I’m going to ask you some questions. You will provide complete and accurate answers. You will include every detail. Do you understand?”
Confused and disoriented, Sheldon looked at him blankly. His cheek hurt, and a ringing had developed in the ear on that side of his head. He tried to understand why a psych analyst would take him hostage.
Sid slapped him a third time.
He whimpered. “Ow. Stop. Please. What do you want?”
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” Sid repeated. “You’ll provide me complete answers. You will include every detail. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” He was growing less dazed but was still very confused. “What are these questions about?”
Sid lifted his hand and Sheldon yelped. “Yes. Yes! I’ll answer!”
Sheldon heard a whirring noise to his left. He shifted his eyes and saw a disheveled man adjusting the spinning blade of a handheld cutting tool. He was about to learn of the tag-team interrogation strategy called “bad cop, brutal cop.”
“My friend likes to play with toys, Dr. Sheldon.”
The wild man with the cutter turned in their direction and held up the tool. The cutting blade spun up with a high-pitched whine.
Sheldon cried in terror. “Oh, God. What’s he going to do?”
“Unfortunately,” said Sid. “We’ll feel most confident in your answers only after you truly appreciate that the consequence of dishonesty is horrible, disfiguring pain.”
“Please, I’ll tell you everything. I’ll say anything,” he whimpered. “Please tell me what you want me to say.”
“Dr. Sheldon,” said Sid, shaking his head, “that was a big mistake.” He squatted down and took off Sheldon’s shoes. “By telling me you’ll say anything, you’re telling me you’re willing to lie.” He pulled off his socks. “Is that really what you want to say to me right now?”
“What are you doing?” screamed Sheldon in panic. He couldn’t see past his knees, but he could feel the cool rush of air on his now-exposed feet.
“What’re you asking?” Sheldon was indignant. “I started studying artificial intelligence twenty-five years ago. I earned a doctorate for that work. Nobody gave me that degree.”
A throaty hiss burst from where the man with the cutter stood. It filled the air. Sheldon looked over to see him examining the flame of a small blowtorch. The flame was bright blue and came to a perfect point with intense energy. The man viewed the flame from several angles and he flashed a maniacal grin.
“Sheldon, I’m tired already, and that was only the first question. You’re going to be a burned and bloody mess before we get to question five. You cannot imagine how all-consuming real pain can be. I thought you were smart.”
“Okay, look.” He gulped, coming to accept though not fully understand his situation. “As I was starting my career, I got a message containing some curious information. I didn’t know where it came from. It was the beginning of a roadmap to take my work in a whole new direction. I followed it, okay? I wondered where it came from at the time, but my attention was more captivated by the revolutionary ideas. I followed the path laid out for me. It was intriguing and exciting. How could that be a crime? It was more like a stroke of luck.”
“Was the Kardish vessel here in orbit at that time?” asked Sid.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “They’d been here about a year at that point.”
“When did you know it was them giving you this information?”
“I guessed it was them after maybe six months. That’s when I got my first update to the roadmap. The plans had a style that was different from anything I’d ever seen. But it probably took me a couple of years to finally admit to myself that the Kardish were the ones behind it all.”
“So you’ve been working for the Kardish for, what, eighteen or nineteen years?”
“You know,” Sheldon said, fresh bravado amping his voice. “I’ve had enough of this. Do you know the legal penalty for kidnapping?”
Sid picked up the gag, grabbed Sheldon’s head by a handful of hair, and stuffed the ball back in his mouth. The crazy man walked over to him with his hand tool. The shrill whine of the spinning blade filled the room. He crouched down at Sheldon’s feet. Sheldon struggled to see but couldn’t. He lay his head back against the headrest and whimpered.
The sound of the tool doing its work terrified Sheldon. He heard the cutting tool ripping the flesh on his right foot and was traumatized by the sharp pain from this barbaric act. He screamed through the ball gag, shaking his head side to side. The saw’s noise quieted and his sharp pain transitioned into a burning and persistent throb. He closed his eyes and whimpered. They’d mutilated him. It hurt so much.
With a gloved hand, the man with the torture devices picked something up, then showed Sheldon his toe. “Can I make him eat it?” he asked, waving his messy red prize.
Sheldon passed out.
He surfaced a second time, his head now floating in serene comfort. He opened his eyes, and snapped them shut to block out the piercing bright lights. He thought for a moment and had a faint recollection of a heavenly vision. He opened his eyes slowly and peeked out from under his lids. An angel sat on the white sheets at the foot of his bed.
“Hello, Dr. Sheldon,” said the angel. “My name is Bonnie.”
He opened his eyes wider and shifted his head. It could move freely. He was in a hospital room. He was saved!
He tried to touch his face only to have his hand fall short. His wrist was secured to the bed rail.
“I’m so sorry for what those animals did to you, Dr. Sheldon,” said Bonnie.
Oddly, Sheldon felt relaxed, calm, even talkative. He lifted his head up and looked at his foot. It was swathed in white bandages. Blood leaked through from the inside, and there was a red stain where his toe used to be. He switched his gaze to Bonnie and started blubbering. “What have they done to me?”
“They’re watching us right now, Dr. Sheldon.” She tilted her head toward a large mirror on the wall.
The reflective surface faded. As if he were looking through a window, Sheldon could see the crazy man and Sid standing on the other side. The maniacal butcher held up his blowtorch and, laughing, turned it on. The window transitioned back to a mirror.
“Oh, God.” He tensed up in fear.
“Dr. Sheldon,” said Bonnie in a no-nonsense tone, “I’ll have to give you back to them if you don’t cooperate with me. Say yes if you understand.”
“Yes,” he said with resignation.
“Good, now, why are the Kardish here orbiting Earth?”
“Who are you?” he asked.
Bonnie looked over at the mirror and back to Sheldon.
“Wait.” He looked at the mirror in panic. “I don’t know. I swear. I don’t know.” His tone was pleading. “All they want from me is to make them crystals. That’s everything they’ve ever communicated about. Their instructions are always about more capable crystals, made in ever larger volumes. That’s it. There is never any communication other than more, faster, better crystals.”
“Look at me, Dr. Sheldon. You’re doing great. Now, how do they get these communications to you?”
“It’s the oldest technology imaginable.” He stopped talking to the mirror and shifted his attention to Bonnie. “I find an envelope in different places a few times a year. Each contains directions and diagrams written on paper. And you know what’s weirder than that? After a couple of days, the writing disappears. Poof.” He tried to use his hands to act out his words but his restraints reminded him that his freedom was limited. He continued undeterred. “I’ve tried different methods for capturing and recording the writings before they fade, but the pictures and vids are always blank. It’s the damnedest thing.” He shook his head.
“How many crystals have you shipped to the Kardish?”
“That’s sort of a tricky question. I don’t ship them anything, and they don’t keep everything.”
She paused for a moment as she looked at the mirror. “Please explain.”
“I buy crystal flake from Victoria Wellstone. She’s a member of Crystal Fabs’ board of directors, owns a confounding tangle of companies, and,” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “is a most despicable person.” He returned to his normal voice. “At first, I thought one of her companies mined the flake. I’d been working at turning the flake into crystals for a couple of years before I learned that she gets it from the Kardish and sells it to us. We pay for the flake by giving the Kardish a portion of the crystals we make. Then Crystal Fab makes its money by selling the rest of them on the open market.” He looked over at the mirror and spoke to it in a loud voice. “The Union knows all about this. It’s in our annual reports.”
“Dr. Sheldon. Please look at me when you speak. Would you explain what you meant by them not keeping everything?”
“Years back, when we finally achieved some success and started manufacturing the original first-gen crystals, we shipped a hundred of them to an address Victoria provided. Well, a few months later, we bought a batch of flake from Victoria’s company, but it was somehow different. It wasn’t a significant difference, but the properties of the flake had changed ever so slightly. After investigating, we discovered that the flake had tiny impurities that had been introduced from our own manufacturing process. It turns out they had ground up the first-gen crystals and sold the flake back to us.”
“And…” said Bonnie, encouraging him to speak.
“And they did the same with the two-gen crystals. They ground them up and sold the flake back to us. By then we knew we were dealing with the Kardish, but Victoria and her
companies remained involved. We kept hearing that the Kardish were upset with the limited capability of the crystals and expected more and better. Over time and with a lot of effort, we built up enough credibility, because they gave me a thick packet of information that let us move on to the three-gen design.”
“So tell me about Victoria,” Bonnie asked. “How is it she has these connections with the Kardish?”
“I can only speculate. I don’t really know,” Sheldon said.
“Please. Speculate for me.”
“I think she’s one of them,” he said, looking over at the mirror. “I think Victoria Wellstone is a Kardish.” He tried to sit up, but his restraints stopped him. “And she hints that they’ll blow up the world if they don’t get the new crystal.”
* * *
Sheldon’s interrogation lasted another two hours as Bonnie took him through a long list of questions. Sheldon, believing he had just been mutilated and determined not to lose any more body parts, remained forthcoming and consistent.
When they decided he was milked dry, Bonnie let him sleep for a few hours. Then she explained the gravity of his situation with great clarity.
“Dr. Sheldon, from the viewpoint of the Union, you are the greatest traitor in the history of humanity. You’ve consorted with an alien invader. You’ve withheld information critical to the security of the planet. This was vital information that our leaders needed to know about when you learned it. You waited almost two decades to tell us, and then only under extreme duress. The entire planet may be at risk because of your unconscionable decisions and greedy behavior.”
Sheldon was so physically and emotionally drained that he didn’t even try to defend himself. When her words registered with him, he realized at last that his kidnapping was a Union-organized activity; he was in a government facility, and he had been dragged off the street and mutilated by legal authority.
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