Free Crystal Rebellion by Doug J. Cooper Page B

tried to jump
ahead with questions, the conversation would end up taking longer than if she just
sat and listened.
    “And I’d like to avoid the spline, which means I’ll need a
locus point.”
    Locus relay . She heard him say it at the same time
she thought similar words herself, which itself affirmed Criss’s impeccable pacing
in delivering information.
    She jumped ahead anyway. “I’ll build it…”
    Starting from his console on the scout, Criss could project
his awareness anyplace he could resolve a feed. As such, there were few places
he couldn’t go. But his strength and influence at a location reflected the
level of connectivity he had to the place. Weak feeds translated into a weak
presence.
    A locus was a custom relay built to give Criss a strong,
secure presence anywhere in the broad vicinity of the device. Designed like a
home base of sorts, it would enable him to project his awareness and capabilities
from this four-gen console on the scout out to the colony with maximum effect.
    The flip side was that, somehow, the locus had to be moved to
the vicinity of wherever he wanted his maximum projected strength to be.
    “…if you let me carry it.”
    He nodded as if he knew she would say that. “I’d planned on
conscripting one of their synbods.”
    “I’d love knowing that when I’m out and about, I have you right
there to keep me safe.”
    “The synbod can walk next to you.”
    She locked eyes with him and did her best to affect a sincere
expression. “And please don’t tell Sid. He doesn’t need to know.”
    I know he’ll tell him. Criss was a vault when it came
to keeping personal secrets, but he shared operational information unfiltered. It
went along with his “knowledge is power” approach to most things.
    Rising from the bunk, she stepped behind a privacy shield at
the foot of the bed and changed into her everyday clothes—sky-blue work scrubs
and a pair of all-purpose deck slippers. She glanced over at him sitting at the
foot of her bed. Her act of modesty was sincere, though she knew it made no
sense to be shy in front of a projected image. That isn’t him. The real
Criss monitored billions of feeds all the time and even now was watching her
change from a dozen different directions.
    Her cabin doors whispered shut behind her as she walked the
short passageway to the scout’s workshop. Resting her hand on the back of the workshop
chair, she slid behind the sleek custom tech bench.
    A seamless interface of mechanics, electronics, physics, and
chemistry, the tech bench stood as a craftsworker’s dream. Developed by Criss
for use by his leadership, he’d added such a high level of automation, she
could sit and watch it create if that were her desire.
    He’s probably already built the locus.
    But she counted on him knowing that she needed to keep busy.
Work was her therapy.
    Criss stood at the far side of the tech bench wearing dark blue
work scrubs cut in a more angular style, waiting as she situated herself in the
chair. Comfortable, she caught his eye and nodded. Plans for the locus
projected in front of her. Studying the display, Juice arranged pieces on the
bench top in a proper order for assembly. One of the items she handled was a
small jewel case lined with black cloth.
    With a certain reverence, she opened the lid and lifted the
tiny chip out of the case. Crystal from flake. Holding it up between her
fingers, she delighted in watching the light diffuse through the rare material,
emerging as a sparkling rainbow dancing in front of her.
    Assembled atom by atom, this bit of structured beauty gave
Criss his wide open door. Through it he could travel unimpeded, projecting his
awareness at full strength to wherever it rested.
    “It’s a pretty one, Criss.” She held the bit of crystal
under one eye and marveled as everything in the room took on a colorful aura.
    Then she placed the chip back in the case and looked at him.
“What do you think I can learn from a tour that you can’t