She moved her eyes back to Hank. “Is there anyone else who can help me break through the cryptography?”
Hank made a sucking noise through his teeth as he shook his head. “I'm afraid not. Sleuth changed the codes and password, making the schematic software pretty much hack proof. He doesn't want the same thing to happen twice.”
The same thing to happen twice? “Doesn't he realize that the first attack is still happening and there might not be a second? Whatever information he found, I want it now, and if he won't obey me—a superior officer—then he'll have to obey my mother.” Then she placed her hand on the blueprint of Mech S101, moved it aside and pulled up Mech S12. “Author of Mech S12, please.”
“Gasruhni Nikne,” blinked on the screen.
“What?” she said. “This is frustrating—the same author for both designs? How is that? Each design is 600 years apart.”
Hank idly twisted strands of shaggy beard around his index finger and said, “Must be a mistake. Maybe Sleuth did that to make curious people think there was a problem with the schematic. Or, it might simply be that whoever entered the information could have accidentally duplicated the same weird name.”
Crystal nodded, then asked the HDC, “Are there other Mechs that aren't 'S' designs?”
The HDC blinked a no.
She instructed the HDC, “More information on Gasruhni Nikne.”
Authorized Access Only blipped on the screen, in addition to an empty rectangle for entering a password.
She pressed on the rectangle.
“Crystal?” whispered Hank, very close to her ear.
Ignoring him, she concentrated on whatever password Sleuth might have created in order to gain access to Gasruhni Nikne's information.
Hank cleared his throat. “Crystal?” he whispered again, this time closer, so he was breathing bad breath into her ear.
Crystal slammed her hands down on the desk, exasperated, and pulled away. She shot him an aggravated stare and said, “Go away, Hank.”
Completely disregarding her obvious discomfort while smiling a toothy grin with food stuck between his teeth, Hank asked, “What do you think we should name these guys?”
In disgust, she looked back at the HDC. “Bypass authorization.”
Denied flashed on the screen. Beginning to feel like destroying the HDC, she changed her focus by looking over at Sleuth to study him. “What do you think Sleuth would use as a password?”
“Umm...” Hank also stared at Sleuth as he tore a sloppy bite out of his sandwich.
Crystal watched as soggy crumbs in a white liquid dribbled into his beard. Repulsed, she didn't wait for an answer and went back to studying the blueprint.
“I don't know what Sleuth would use as a password,” Hank finally replied, “but maybe I can find it for you.” He softly caressed her neck with sweaty fingers.
Cystal shouted, “Hank!” and grabbed his greasy fingers, bending them backwards until he yelped.
Coldly, she said, “You might want to keep your hands to yourself and just help me—it may be worth your life, and all of our lives!”
“Fine.” Hank rubbed his sore fingers as he leaned back in his chair. “But first, any suggestions for an enemy name?” He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the rest of the Techies. “They've come up with names like Spines, Fin Heads, and various others.”
Crystal replied, “Drags.”
Hank shrugged. “Drags? Why?”
“They're a flipping drag, Hank, just like you, that's why.”
“I like that.” Then Hank glanced over his shoulder, leaning back even more in his chair as he hollered, “Hey, fellas! From now on, their names will be Drags! And Crystal is playing hard to get!”
“Sounds good to me,” said a voice from behind Crystal, accompanied by a hand being placed on her shoulder that released a light and calming touch that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She looked up to see Jerrod. He had a healer's touch that was perfect for his profession. “I wanted to thank you for saving me,” he said.
Crystal wanted to smile, but refrained. “I see you're up and walking about.” But, as an afterthought, she looked at his hand still resting on her shoulder and said, “Do men think they can do whatever they want around here? Seems like this ship has been taken over by dimwits who can't think about anything other than pulling off their pants, no matter how gross they are.” For emphasis, she gave a nod toward Hank as she rolled her eyes.
Jerrod removed his hand from her shoulder, apologetically replying, “Sorry, Crystal. I'm a doctor and we use human touch as one of our healing factors with our patients. The—”
Abruptly, Crystal held up her hand, interrupting the good doctor. “Do you hear that?” She tilted her head and stared into space, listening.
Hank leaned toward her, trying to hear whatever it might be. Perhaps it was something from her HDC?
“I don't hear anything,” whispered Hank, his rank breath repelling Crystal so badly that she had to pull away from him.
“I don't hear much of anything,” commented Jerrod.
“Or feel anything,” replied Crystal. “They've stopped firing at us.”
Hank quickly moved over to his console and pressed a few buttons, turning on the exterior vids. “There's nothing out there...they're gone.”
“Good!” said Crystal, happy for the moment of peace and not questioning why the attack had suddenly stopped.
Then she thought about trying an altogether different approach with Hank, reached over and lightly touched his forearm. “Please, Hank. Help me find the password?”
Hank paused, then nodded, getting lost in her eyes. He knew, though, that getting the password was going to be the easy part. Breaking Sleuth’s encryption might be extremely difficult.
“Thank you.” Crystal stood up, moving her seat out of the way for Hank as he wheeled his chair in front of her HDC, gave a thumbs up, and dove in on the keyboard, typing furiously.
“I'll be back in ten minutes,” Crystal said.
Hank’s eyes remained fixed on the HDC as he asked, “Where you going?”
“To find Wrench.”
“Who?” Jerrod asked as he backed away, allowing her to hurry past him.
Then Hank craned his neck around his screen to watch Crystal walking toward the exit. “He's still working on that project of hers.”
“What project is that?” asked Jerrod, not waiting for an answer, instead choosing to follow Crystal.
As Jerrod caught up to her, Crystal wiped her forehead and was surprised by how damp it felt. She explained, “Wrench is mounting lasers and ion cannons onto my Mech. He's also rewiring it so I can fire the cannons while I'm inside of the cockpit.”
Jerrod grabbed her forearm and stopped her. “Are you crazy? Your mom isn't going to let you out of Sirona, nor will I recommend it as a doctor.”
She twisted her arm, forcing Jerrod to release his grip as she kept walking. “Is everyone my senior officer now?” Crystal suddenly turned around and jabbed at his chest with an index finger, looked up, and stared into his brown eyes, secretly impressed by the muscled mass she felt through his shirt. She looked at his chest, then hesitated, then looked back up, into eyes beaming compassion down at her. She thought, You're cute, but a great body and a fabulous personality aren't going to change my mind, my friend.
Then she clenched her jaw and said, “Listen...I outrank you, and regarding my mom...well...she's just being a mom and doesn't want me to get scratched up. Now, I need to take my Mech on a test run to try out the weapons, and if it works, then we can refit all of the Mechs from Warehouse 26.” She pointed toward the warehouse. “If you and mom are so concerned about my wellbeing, then just know that I can walk outside for two minutes without having to be in a Mech, touch the damn warehouse, and return without developing any gravitational problems.”
In some sense, Jerrod knew it was true. According to Star Guild science, the dense exterior gravity allowed about two minutes before the human body wo
uld start to shut down. Crystal had already calculated that the warehouse was close enough to get to and from within that time frame, and Jerrod, being the doctor that he was, summed up her logic as idiotic and reckless. He just assumed that she wouldn't be able to make it back without developing some sort of gravitational issues. Although, during his career, he'd never actually encountered anyone experiencing gravitational sickness, much less any resulting mortalities.
Regardless, he gently placed his hand on her arm in an attempt to calm her. “It's still dangerous, Crystal.”
“I can practically touch the warehouse from here. And, if you don't mind...!” she pulled her arm away from his hand and continued her march toward the Launch Bay, where she thought Wrench would be working on her Mech.
“Calling Crystal to Tech Quarters,” blared over the ship's intercom, causing Crystal to stop. It was Hank's voice—perhaps he'd found something? Maybe he'd even broken into what seemed to be the impenetrable authorized access area?
Crystal turned around and ran toward Tech Quarters, back to Hank wearing a self-satisfied grin while leisurely staring at the screen of the HDC, acting as though everything in the galaxy was easy.
“Did you find something?” Crystal asked, nearly out of breath.
“Yep,” he said. “We're in.”
“What?” She moved around his chair so she could look into the HDC, just to see a blueprint of the human anatomy. “Is this a joke? You called me back for this?”
“It’s far from being a joke.” Jerrod pointed at the human body on the HDC, surprising Crystal because she didn't think he'd followed her. Then Jerrod pointed to a DNA strand next to the anatomy blueprint. “This is the DNA of the human genome, but I don't know why most of it’s x'd out.”
Crystal tapped her finger on the bridge of her nose as she thought. Then she asked, “Why does the human genome have the words 'Homo Sapien Sapien' above it?”
“That's who we are, so-to-speak. It's the scientific name for our species,” replied Jerrod.
Hank laughed and said, “Did we have to name ourselves 'Sapien' twice so we wouldn't forget it?”
Jerrod scratched his head. “To tell you the truth, I don't know why it's that way, but we've always been known as Homo Sapien Sapien.”
Another call broadcast across the intercom. It was Wrench. “Crystal to Launch Bay.”
Crystal sighed. I need two of me. She wanted more time to explore this new bit of information, but she had concluded over the last few days that if Wrench needed you, he needed you.
She asked Jerrod, “You want to keep looking at this with Hank?”
And by Jerrod's expression, Crystal could tell that he didn't want to be near Hank, either, but nodded a compliant yes.
“Hank, I want to come back to this later. I just assume you've figured out the password, so I'll need it if you're not here.”
Hank pulled out a piece of paper and jotted something down, folded the paper, and then turned his chair around so he could face her as he said, with a stupid grin on his face, “Here, my love.”
Crystal swiped it out of his hand, suppressing an urge to hit him. “Call me that again and your teeth will be on your desk, understand?”
Hank waved his hands in the air, faking innocence. “What?!”
Crystal slowly shook her head, thinking that Hank might have to learn some manners the hard way. Then she unfolded the paper and gaped, then let the paper drop to the desk. “Ha ha, very funny, Hank.”
“That's the password, Crystal, I'm not making it up. I didn't decipher it, either. It blinked up on the screen when you left. I don't know who hacked the HDC, but whoever it was provided that password.”
Skeptically, she looked down at the paper , then back at Hank. “The password is my full name—Crystal McCoy?”
∞
Overseer Chase Byrd opened his eyes to see a dark gray ebb ceiling dotted with red and black rock. The usual, he thought. But, what wasn't usual was the room. It wasn't his and he was lying in a bed with the sheets tucked tightly against his feet and he never made his bed that way.
Where am I?
He moved his eyes. They stung and it felt like his eye muscles were cramping. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers, which didn't do any good.
He tried to sit up, but grunted and fell backwards as pain shot through his head, then down to his chest and arms.
What happened to me?
Then he heard paper shuffling somewhere in the background and turned his head, but felt a sensation best described as someone squeezing his skull in a vice, which made him squint and moan in anguish.
Once the episode had passed, he was able to lie still. “Hello?” he voiced with a cracked whisper. No one answered, so he tried again. “Water, please.” His words were another fractured whisper. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt much thicker than usual.
A young, unrecognizable voice finally replied. “Wow, bud. Welcome back.”
Chase opened his eyes to see a young man standing a mile away, but quickly realized he had to be experiencing tunnel vision. He closed his eyes and re-opened them, just to experience more of the same, but with more cramping, which didn't help.
With a strained voice, he asked, “Who are you?”
“It's me, Devon Gray, the tech assistant for Savanna Levens. Remember me?”
Chase gave a nod, and was glad the movement hadn’t hurt. “Where am I?”
“You're in the Political Infirmary.”
Chase rubbed his eyes again, trying to help his focus find normalcy. “Why am I here?”
Devon gave a little laugh that said, don't you know? But, then he realized that his laugh was inappropriate and thought, he's been shot, Dufus, reminding himself that he had been just half a step away from being in Chase's position the night before. He'd been shot, too, but it was minor compared to Chase's injuries. And yesterday, when Devon went into the Suficell Pod, it had worked its magic. He hadn't felt any pain since then and considered himself healed, until he looked down at the bandages wrapped around his knee. Well, not completely healed.
He looked at Chase who was staring at him, although Chase seemed strained and unfocused, as if he was having difficulty seeing him.
“Someone tried to kill you, Chase. And from what I heard, you were brought here after they found you. But it looks like the Suficell Pods patched you up okay.”
“It doesn't feel that way. How long have I been out?” Chase grimaced from a sensation, much like a needle penetrating his flesh all the way down his arms.
“Three days.”
Chase wanted to jump out of bed. Three days? And then it hit him all at once. He was walking back to the hovertrain station, feeling on top of the world, when he was pushed to the ground by some terrible, burning force. Was I shot? He recalled seeing blood, then phaser blasts and a woman running toward him with a scream horn.
Nyx!
“Where's Nyx?” he asked, worry in his voice.
“Who?” replied Devon.
“Nyx...she was...” Chase coughed, then grabbed his side, cringing.
“If I could get up, I'd go look for that Nyx person for you.”
Chase managed a smile, but then grunted and clinched his fists. He hated being limited, especially by pain
“Is Nyx a friend of yours?” asked Devon.
“Nyx is probably fine,” said Chase. “She probably brought me—” But his heart skipped a beat when he recalled her being shot. She had fallen out of his view when he wanted to save her, but couldn't. “I have to see her.”
Devon pressed a button on his bed. “Alright, I just notified the doctor. He'll be here soon.”
“Thanks.” Out of habit, Chase started to run his hands through his thick hair but stopped himself, already knowing that the movement might cause him pain. Instead, he asked, “Why are we in the same room together?”
“Well, I can't be in any other room. The Brigantia and Taranis Guard are occupying all of them.”
“What? Why ar
e they here?”
“I don't know, exactly. I'm here because of these...” Devon shook the papers in his hands and grinned. “Looks like I'm a celebrity of sorts.”
Chase knew that only celebrities and political figures were allowed admittance into this expensive hospital, which Devon wasn't even close to being at this point in his life, making the papers in Devon's hands all the more interesting.
“What do you have there?”
Devon tried to sit up to show him, but laid back down when the ache in his knee extended up to his thigh. Yes, it would seem that he wasn't as healed as he thought and he rubbed his leg. “Yeah, I figure if we find an antidote, then we can blast it through the water supply and air channels.”
“Antidote?”
“Oh, I forgot, you don't know. I cracked Zim’s code and printed a lot of information into a stack of papers, just like yours, but better. I've read through your papers and they're interesting, but they don’t make too much sense to any of us.”
Chase asked, “My papers? Your papers? What are you talking about?”
“The papers you got at Zim's office? You know, the ones about the ebb quarries and where the ebb is transported?” He noted the blank expression on Chase’s face but continued, hoping that Chase would remember something. “Well, what's extracted out of the ebb before it gets to us is this element called gold, but I don't know what it does or why it's supposed to be so important. And, they also remove a mineral called crystal.” Devon paused, hoping for a reaction, but could see only confusion on Chase's face, as if he was still trying to remember the papers he'd stolen. “Anyway, they take those things out, store them in some facility on the other side of Lumus, and then transport them off Lumus, to another planet. Once it’s there, they leave the crystal alone and heat the gold to a certain temperature, then it's cooled into a dust powder and blasted into that unknown planet's atmosphere, where—”
The Veil Rising Page 19