The String Conspiracy

The String ConspiracyResonance: Book 1 Candace FreilichRhea Press This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any Resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.Previously Published as “The String Conspiracy” episodes 1-46 on Kindle VellaCopyright © 2021, 2023 by Candace FreilichCover Design by TS95 StudiosAll rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher is an infringement of the copyright law.ISBN: 8-9871577-0-1ISBN-13: 979-8-9871577-0-1 To Grandpa Billwho filled our shelves and minds with stories Contents 1. Jo 2. Jo 3. Pravi 4. Jo 5. Yerin Zahira 6. Jo 7. Pravi 8. Jo 9. Zahira 10. Jo 11. Pravi 12. Jo 13. Nik 14. Zahira 15. Jo 16. Pravi 17. Jo 18. Zahira 19. Nik 20. Pravi 21. Jo 22. Zahira 23. Nik 24. Zahira 25. Pravi 26. Jo 27. Zahira 28. Nik 29. Pravi 30. Jo 31. Zahira 32. Nik 33. Pravi 34. Jo 35. Zahira 36. Nik 37. Pravi 38. Jo 39. Zahira 40. Pravi 41. Zahira 42. Jo Afterward Pravi Acknowledgments About Author Chapter One JoJo wasn’t a thief. Really, she wasn’t, though some of the tools in her equipment bag might have suggested otherwise. A set of lock picks. Two pairs of gloves. A small blow torch capable of cutting through metal… She glanced at the security guards busying themselves a few meters away. Normally, you’d be hard-pressed to find one, as the university budget couldn’t afford to trim bushes or fix cracks in the pavement, much less hire competent security. But today, a full six defended the physics building with a tight barrier of yellow cones and a bag check station. No doubt they were there for the same reason she was: the Resero artifacts.Such a silly thing to call them, by the way. “Artifacts.” Like Resero was some prehistoric priest on the Rudian plains and not the physicist who’d single-handedly modernized interdimensional travel. But that was the term the media had picked up, and it covered all the odd tools, designs, and prototypes his estate had donated to lucky schools.Behind the security guards, dozens of bubble-like lab rooms floated at various heights. A crisscrossing web of glassed-in hallways and stairs linked and supported them, like the sticks on a giant molecular model. Some rooms hovered bare meters above the bushes, while others reached seven, eight, even a dozen stories high. The university’s artifacts waited in one of them, Jo was sure of it. The presence of security guards only confirmed her suspicions.She hiked the strap of her equipment bag higher on her shoulder and tried not to look conspicuous. She was here for a legitimate job, after all. A piece of lab equipment had broken down and, as usual, the university didn’t have money for a certified tech. Who could blame her for wanting a peek at the artifacts while she was at it?She took another look at the security bag check and bit her lip. Rows of hedges ran to either side, hiding pesky machinery like the massive A/C unit and the transformer that would otherwise ruin the building’s aesthetic. If she backtracked and went around them, perhaps she could pass as a student using the side entrance and avoid the security checkpoint altogether. Of course, her oil-stained jumpsuit and giant leather bag weren’t exactly covert amidst a crowd of book bags and lost freshmen, so she soon drew the stare of a security guard. Don’t panic. You have permission to be here. He took a few steps closer, and she gave him a tight-lipped nod, making it clear she wasn’t approaching the front.The man was on his com now, undoubtedly describing her shifty green eyes and face full of freckles to his colleagues. Probably her grimy boots as well. And she’d so hoped to avoid any attention. She quickened her pace around the overgrown shrubs, but he quickly overtook her.“Sorry, miss. I don’t mean to alarm you, but I’m going to need to search your bag.” He blocked her path with his broad shoulders and gave her an apologetic smile. He looked young, possibly around Jo’s age, and fresh out of whatever two month course they gave budget security guards. “Special circumstances, you know?”No, I don’t know, Jo wanted to say, or something equal parts coy and clever. But one glance at the electric baton on his belt brought forth a nod and hesitant compliance. It took all of her focus to not look guilty.“So, uh, what’s the purpose of your visit?” the guard asked, leading her over to one of the bag check tables. He unzipped the oil-stained canvas and was immediately met with a pile of diagnostic tools and a set of hex wrenches. Hopefully he wouldn’t dig much further.“Maintenance job. Fixing the lab’s amovoscope.”“Oh, Orin mentioned something about that.” To her horror, he started pulling out wrenches and power testers to make it easier to search the deeper areas. He handled the dinged and dented tools with care, more than Jo usually used, but she wanted to cry out for him to stop. The next layer held the lock picks.She needed to focus on something else to hide her anxiety, but her eyes kept drifting to the baton at his waist. “So, uh, is that com you’re carrying an Argoit 3000?”“This?” His hand went to the black device beside the baton. “I don’t know, maybe?”“Does it ever do that thing where it crackles for no reason? Like, it almost sounds like someone’s rubbing sandpaper over their microphone?”“How’d you know?”She shrugged. “I’ve seen it a few times.” She picked up a small multimeter to demonstrate. She hoped he didn’t notice her sliding the lock picks into her sleeve at the same time. “See, there’s a spring inside the top corner that can warp over time and