fragrant blossoms about her neck. Killashandra had just recognized the

blooms as those with which Lars had handfasted her, when she saw Olav

bestow one on his son. »Discharge your duties assiduously to the protection

of the Guildmember´s person, my son, and return to us only when you have

seen her safely to the shuttle port!«

        Before Killashandra could say anything in acknowledgment, Olav had

stepped back. So, she could only smile her gratitude for his vote of

confidence and proceed to the waiting boat. Impatiently she brushed aside

the tears in her eyes before anyone could notice, and took a seat under the

awning amidships. She was not surprised when Lars did not elect to join her

for she could well imagine that he had been equally astonished by Olav´s

farewell.

        She sat staring at the squat bulk of the cruiser, and liked it less

the nearer she got to it. Nor did her opinion change during the three-day

voyage back to the City. The Captain, a dour man named Festinel, was

waiting at the top of the gangplank and escorted her himself to her cabin,

explaining that her bodyguard would be quartered in the next cubicle,

within hearing distance. She did not groan but saw this trip would be a

repetition of the Trundomoux voyage. Well. she had survived that, too. Lars

came along the companionway at that point and was greeted almost effusively

by Captain Festinel.

        During the evening meal, it was apparent from Festinel´s deference

to Lars that the man had been impressed by the islander´s seamanship, or

rather, the false account of his rescue of Killashandra from the

dangerously positioned islet of exile. Killashandra added only her physical

presence to the officers´ mess. She was tired. She could feel muted crystal

resonance in her body, though it was insufficient to raise the hair on

those nearby. She was pleasant when addressed but limited her answers,

contenting herself with enigmatic smiles. Elder Torkes kept shooting her

wary, surreptitious glances but did not engage her in conversation. Which

satisfied her. Keep him guessing about her, and off balance. Only how were

she and Lars to have any sort of normal relationship if her quarters in the

Conservatory were monitored?

        On the crowded cruiser there was no way for them to have a private

word or even the chance of a caress. Abstinence after the feast did nothing

for her temper. So, preoccupied, she didn´t notice the subliminal whine

until the second evening, when she twitched all through dinner, rubbing at

her neck and ear. Something was wrong.

        »You´re very unsettled tonight, Guildmember,« Lars said finally,

having endured her contortions throughout dinner. He spoke quietly, for her

ears only, but his voice carried.

        »Nerves -- No, it´s not nerves. Does this cruiser use a crystal

drive?« She spoke in a loud, accusing tone, looking to Captain Festinel for

her answer.

        »It does, Guildmember, and I regret to inform you that we are

experiencing some difficulty with it.«

        »It urgently needs to be retuned. As soon as you´re in port. The

way it sounds right now, it´ll be broad-casting secondary sonics by

morning.«

        »The engineer has been monitoring an uneven drive thrust but it

should see us safely to the Mainland.«

        »You have reduced speed?«

        »Of course, Crystal Singer, the moment the instrumentation recorded

resonance.«

        »What is the matter with the cruiser?« Elder Torkes asked, only

then aware of the nature of the discussion.

        »Nothing for you to worry about,« Killashandra said curtly, without

glancing in his direction, for she was rubbing that side of her neck. She

felt Lars stiffen beside her, and heard the tiny intake of her left-hand

partner´s breath. »I hope.« She rose. »The whine is subsonic but highly

irritating. Good evening, gentlemen.«

        Lars followed her and for a miracle they were alone in the

companionway as he escorted her to her cramped quarters.

        »Is it monitored?« she asked him in a low voice. He nodded.

        »Do you require any medication to sleep, Guildmember?«

        »Yes, if you can find some polly wine, Captain.«

        »The steward will bring a decanter to your quarters.«

        With a bottle of that inside her, Killashandra slept in spite of

the increasingly audible distortion. The next morning, the noise was almost

audible. Even Lars was affected. She was relieved when Captain Festinel

requested her presence on the bridge. And concerned when she was shown the

drive print-out. Festinel and his engineering officer were justifiably

concerned.

        »We were due for an overhaul when this emergency came up,

Guildmember. The Broad Sea had more turbulence than we had anticipated

putting a strain on the compensators as well as the stabilizers, especially

at speed.« The Captain was flatteringly deferential so Killashandra nodded

as he made his points, and frowned wisely at the print-out as if she knew

what she was seeing Fortunately the bridge was buffered against crystal

noise as the rest of the ship was not, giving her a respite from the sound.

Until she put her hand on the bulkhead and felt it coursing through the

metal.

        »The drive is losing efficiency,« Killashandra said, recalling the

phrases which Carrik had used at the shuttle port on Fuerte, and obscurely

pleased with herself that her memory remained lucid for that period, now so

completely divorced from her present life.

        »Frankly, I´d prefer heaving to and having a good look at the

crystal drive, but our orders are to proceed with all possible speed to the

Mainland.« The Captain shrugged and sighed.

        Killashandra decided against reassuring him. The drive was souring:

she didn´t need the printouts to tell her that. But she had only the one

experience on which to base an opinion and had no intention of ruining the

image she had projected by a bad guess.

        Then Captain Festinel asked hesitantly, »Do you really hear crystal

resonance?«

        Killashandra was aware of the expectant hush in the bridge as

junior and senior officers, not to mention Lars at her side, waited for her

reply.

        »Yes, indeed. Like a dull ache from my earbones to my heels. If it

were any louder, you´d find me asking for a life raft!«

        »We know so little about your profession . . .«

        »It is one like any other, Captain, with its dangers, its rewards,

an apprenticeship to pass, and then years of refining one´s skills.«

Killashandra was conscious, as she spoke, of one set of ears listening more

keenly than others. She dared not look at Lars. »One facet of my training

was retuning soured crystals.« She made a rueful grimace. »Not my favorite

occupation.«

        »Are there any prerequisites for the profession?« the older

engineer asked, as he looked up from the print-out.

        »Perfect and absolute pitch is the one essential.«

        »Why?« Lars asked, surprised by that unexpected condition.

        »We´re called crystal singers because we must tune our subsonic

cutters to the dominant pitch of the crystal we cut from the ranges. A

dangerous and exhausting task.« She held out her hands so that all could

see the fine white scars that crisscrossed the skin.

        »I was told,« Lars said in an amused drawl, »that crystal singers

have amazing recuperative powers.«

        »That is quite true. Crystal resonance apparently slows the

degenerative processes and accelerates the regenerative. Crystal singers

retain their youthful appearance well into the third century.«

        »How old are you, Guildmember?« a brash young voice asked.

        Frowning, the Captain turned about to seek the source of such

insolence but Killashandra laughed. »I am a relatively new member of the

Heptite Guild, and in my third decade.«

        »Are you able to travel anywhere you wish?« Did she detect a note

of yearning?

        »All crystal singers travel,« she said with commendable restraint

and then realized that her statement was hardly politic on Optheria. She

had shown few examples of the tact for which Trag had chosen her. »But we

always return to Ballybran,« and she tried to make it sound as if going

home was more desirable than traveling far away. No sense in arousing hopes

on Optheria, especially in the presence of the cruiser´s senior officers.

»Once a crystal singer, always a crystal singer!«

        In the same instant the printer extruded an impatient sheet,

Killashandra felt a stab of crystal shock travel painfully from her

heelbone to her ears.

        »Kill the drive,« she shouted as the Captain was issuing the

command.

        Breathless from the unexpected peaking, Killashandra sagged against

Lars. »Congratulations,« she said, hoping the sarcasm would hide the pain

in her bones, »you have just lost one of your crystals. What are they?

Blues?«

        »Greens,« the Captain replied with some pride, »but the same

crystals since the cruiser was commissioned.«

        »And Optheria will spring credit for organ crystals with

considerably more alacrity than for plebian greens, huh?« Festinel nodded

solemn affirmation. »Engineer, I request permission to inspect the crystal

drive with you. My apprenticeship in tuning crystals may be of some use

here.«

        »Honored, Guildmember.« He strode to the comunit. »Damage report!«

        »Sir,« came the disembodied voice from the bowels of the cruiser,

»casing blown, foam applied, no injuries.«

        »As you were!«

        An acrid stench. a combination of odors arising from the intense

heat on the crystal casing and on the foam, was still being exhausted by

fans when Killashandra, Engineering Officer Fernock, and Lars reached the

drive deck. The captain had hurried to inform Elder Torkes of the delay.

Killashandra winced as she caught residual echoes from the other crystals

of the drive. Or perhaps more than one element had blown. That could

happen.

        Fernock quickly directed his men to sweep up the now hardened foam

and remove the cover. The durametal had been fractured by the explosion and

came off in piece .

        See if stores have a replacement.« Fernock´s expression suggested

this was unlikely. »I´d not want to drive unshielded crystal.«

        »There´d be no problem so long as the remaining brackets are

secure,« Killashandra said, reasonably sure that she was correct. After

all, there was no shield at all around black crystal. And they generated

far more power than greens.

        Suction was used to clean foam from the intact blocks but both

Killashandra and Fernock warned the seaman to stay away from the fragmented

shaft.

        »Bracketing came adrift,« Killashandra announced, remembering her

manners enough to look to Fernock for confirmation.

        »You´re right. See, here?« Fernock pointed to the lopsided bracket

at the green´s base. »Now how could that happen?«

        »You said the seas were turbulent. And that you were overdue an

overhaul. Doubtless the discrepancy would have been seen and corrected. No

fault of yours, Officer Fernock.«

        »I appreciate that.«

        »All right, then . . .« Killashandra squatted by the drive, reached

for the shattered green crystal.

        »What are you about, Guildmember?« Fernock grabbed her wrist and

Lars moved forward.

        »Well, until this crystal is moved, we won´t.« And she again

reached for the crystal.

        »But you´ve no gloves and crystal -- «

        »Cuts clean and heals quickly. For me. Allow me Fernock.«

        The man continued to protest, but he made no further attempt to

stop her. The first splinter did not cut her. Fortunately the broken

bracket also made it easier for her to lift out the pieces. She pointed to

a metal oil-slop pail and when it was fetched, she laid the crystal in it.

She removed the remaining portions with only one slice, when the final

fragment resisted her initial pull. She held up her bleeding hand.

        »Behold, before your marveling eyes, the incredible recuperative

powers of the crystal singer. One of my professions´ few advantages.«

        »What is another?« Lars asked.

        »The credit!« She reached for the suction device. »This won´t be

good for anything, and no one is to touch it on its way to the disposal

unit.« She depressed the toggle and made sure that the few loose slivers

were cleared. »I´ll check all the brackets to be sure none are loose. More

problems are caused by faulty bracketing than anything else.«

        That was a tedious enough process but it was her own safety she was

ensuring, hers and Lars´s. With Fernock and Lars handing her the

appropriate tools, she released each bracket in turn and reseated the five

squat crystal shafts remaining. Then she struck each in turn for tone. They

were all Gs, of course, in a crystal drive, and to her intense relief, each

emitted a pure unblemished tone. She glanced up at Lars, to see him nod at

the true G she had just sung. He had not been the only one fascinated by

the process. There had been a constantly changing if discreet audience on

the catwalk above the drive floor. As well. This would only enhance the

image of the crystal singer. And it might just safeguard her against any

more nonsense from the Elders.

        »There now. Mr. Fernock,« she said at last, arching her back

against the crick caused by awkward positions. »I think you can safely

proceed with reconnections. I don´t think there´s any danger if the load is

properly apportioned. A five-shaft drive should generate enough power to

get us to the Mainland.« She held up the hand that had been profusely

bleeding an hour before. »See? All better.«

        »Guildmember, do you know how long it would have taken me and my

men to make such repairs?«

        »I couldn´t begin to guess, Mr. Fernock, but do get on with the

job.« She smiled at the disconcerted officer and then, with Lars a step

behind her, retraced her steps to the upper deck.

        »Citizen, you´re too much for this island boy.«

        »Huh! I was showing off . . . again,« and, leaning backward on one

hand, kissed him lustily. Just in time to avoid the exchange´s being

witnessed by Captain Festinel, who was hurrying to check on repairs. »You

were a very deft assistant, Captain Dahl. I must ask for your help with the

organ repair.« She sedately continued her ascent.

        »Surely, just perfect pitch -- « Lars began as they returned to the

wardroom.

        » -- Perfect and absolute -- «

        » -- As you say, isn´t the only requirement for your profession?«

        »The major one. Ballybran is a Code Four planet -- «

        »What does that mean? I´m an island lad from a iggerant planet,«

and Lars´ voice was rich with contempt.

        »Dangerous. Singing crystal is rated a ‘highly dangerous´

profession, limited to Type IV through VIII bipedal humanoids . . .«

        »Are there any other kinds?«

        »Don´t alien life forms come for the Festival? The Reticulans are

avid musicologists though I could never come to terms with their croons as

music.«

        »Are they the ones that look like an assembly of twigs on a

barrel?« The wardroom was empty and Lars swung her into his arms, kissing

her passionately, stroking her body, murmuring endearments. But knowing

that they could be interrupted at any time inhibited Killashandra´s

response, even as she yearned for more. At a scraping sound, they broke

apart, Killashandra sliding breathlessly into the nearest chair.

        »What a delightful description of Reticulans! The barrel is mostly

windbag but I´ve never been close enough to discover which of their

pseudopods are the pipes.«

        Lars stopped pacing, for the noise in the companionway had ceased,

and he came back to fondle her.

        »A candidate for Guild membership has to pass Physical Fitness Test

SG-I, Psychological Profile SG-I -- which you´d never pass if you continue

to do that, Lars -- and Education Level 3.«

        »I´m not applying to the Guild, only applying a member . . . »

        This time the footsteps stopped and the door was slid back. Mr.

Fernock entered, smiling broadly when he saw the occupants.

        »We´ll be underway in ten minutes, Guildmember, thanks to your

invaluable assistance. And we´ll be able to make a reasonable enough speed

on five shafts to reach our destination on time.«

        »How marvelous,« Killashandra said in a languid drawl. Marvelous

was not really the way she felt, considering the inner turmoil Lars´s

caresses had Stimulated. She couldn´t get to the City and the Conservatory

fast enough.

 

Chapter 18

 

Fortunately Lars was equally frustrated by their lack of privacy and made

no further overtures. Perversely, Killashandra missed them. The cruiser had

broken out flags and a full honor guard for the ceremonial and triumphant

return. Killashandra steeled herself for yet another protocologically

correct reception. She reflected on what scene she could produce to shorten

the tedium, and debated whether or not a scene would produce any advantage.

She had made several points. Unless she had sufficient provocation, she

decided to leave well enough alone. For now. She might need to produce an

effect to gain privacy within her suite.

        For she was determined to enjoy Lars without any surveillance for

whatever time remained to them. She could, of course, stretch out the organ

repair as long as she wished. Or her instruction of technicians. She could

include Lars in that program. He had the perfect -- and absolute -- pitch

to tune crystal as well as the strength and manual dexterity required. She

must do everything she could to make him indispensable to the Elders, for

whatever protection that could provide him, since he didn´t seem at all

interested in leaving Optheria. Even if that were possible.

        »We´re near enough for you to have a spectacular view of the City

Port,« Lars said, interrupting her reflections.

        »A ‘natural´ port?« She smiled.

        »Completely, though not nearly as good a natural harbor as North.«

        »Naturally.«

        »Captain Festinel awaits your arrival on the bridge.«

        »How courteous! Where´s Torkes?«

        »Burning up a few communications units with orders. He was incensed

that you had to bloody your hands on the drive of a mere cruiser.«

        »Doesn´t he value his skin as much as I do mine?«

        Her entry rated salutes, rigid attention from the seamen and a

smile and a warm handshake from Festinel. She politely accepted his

effusive thanks and then pointedly turned to watch the rapidly approaching

shoreline.

        The City Port bustled with activity: small water taxis skipping

across the waves, larger barges wallowing across their swells, and coastal

freighters awaiting their turn at the piers which, with their array of

mechanical unloading devices, were anything but »natural.« The cruiser´s

velocity had moderated considerably now that it was in congested waters.

Ponderously it approached the Federal docking area, where sleek courier

vessels bobbed alongside two more squat cruisers.

        Killashandra had no difficulty identifying their berth -- it was

crowded with a welcoming committee, all massed white and insipid pale

colors, blurred faces turned seaward, despite the glare of the westering

sun which was full in their eyes. The cruiser swung its bow slightly to

port and the drive was cut, momentum carrying the big vessel inexorably to

the dock and the grapples clanked against the hull, bringing it to a halt

with a barely perceptible jolt.

        »My compliments on a smooth docking, Captain Festinel -- and my

thanks for an excellent voyage.« Killashandra made gracious noises to all

the bridge staff and then swept out to get the rest of the tedious

formalities over.

        »Ampris!« Lars grunted as they reached the portal. Beneath them the

gangway was extruding the few meters to the dock.

        »Of course, and my quartette lined up like the puppets they are. I

think I am developing a splitting headache. All that crystal whine, you

know.« She raised her hand to her forehead.

        »See what line Ampris takes first.« Lars´s face was set, his

nostrils flaring a little as he settled his respiratory rate.

        Killashandra suppressed a perfectly natural surge of repugnance for

a man who had ordered an assault on her, then hypocritically assured her

that the culprit would be punished . . . How could she punish Ampris? The

method she had employed with Torkes would not work; Ampris was too wily.

        The gangplank had locked in place, the honor guard was arranged,

Elder Torkes appeared, the welcoming committee began to applaud and, every

inch the gracious celebrity, Killashandra descended. Mirbethan took a step

forward, anxiously scanning Killashandra´s face for any sign of the

»ordeal.« Thyrol, Pirinio, and Polabod all bowed low but permitted Elder

Ampris to do the honors.

        »Guildmember Ree, you cannot imagine our elation when we learned of

your safe deliverance -- « Then Ampris caught sight of Lars, whom he was

patently not expecting.

        »This is Captain Lars Dahl who rescued me so boldly, and at no

small risk to himself and his vessel. Captain Dahl, this is Elder Ampris.«

Killashandra took the plunge, pretending ignorance of any previous contact

between the two men. »I am forever indebted to Captain Dahl, as I´m sure

the Council of Elders must be, for delivering me from that wretched patch

of nowhere.«

        Lars saluted crisply and impassively as Elder Ampris executed the

shallowest of acknowledgments.

        »The Harbor Master at Angel Island has detached him from duty there

to be my personal bodyguard.« Killashandra gave an elegantly delicate

shudder. »I won´t feel safe without his sure protection.«

        »Quite understandable, Guildmember; however, I think that you´ll

find our security measures -- «

        »I felt quite secure within the Conservatory, Elder Ampris,«

Killashandra said demurely. »I seem to be only at risk when I leave its

sanctuary. I assure you I have no desire to do that again.«

        »Security Leader Blaz -- «

        »I´ll not have that officious oaf near me, Elder Ampris. He´s the

reason I was put in jeopardy. The man has no intelligence or tact. I don´t

trust him to spit in the right direction. Captain Lars Dahl is in charge of

my personal security at my personal insistence. Have I not made myself

clear?«

        For a second Elder Ampris looked about to argue the point, but the

moment passed. He inclined his head again, forced his face into a grim

smile, and then gestured toward the waiting vehicle.

        »Why this vast throng?« Killashandra asked, smiling graciously

about her.

        »Some of the winning composers and prospective performers for this

year´s Festival and final-year students.«

        »All waiting for the organ to be repaired?«

        Elder Ampris cleared his throat. »Yes, that is true.«

        »Well, I shan´t delay them any longer than necessary. Especially

since Captain Dahl proved so capable in assisting me with the cruiser

drive.«

        Ampris stopped midstride and stared first at her, then

incredulously at Lars.

        »Yes, weren´t you informed that the cruiser had drive difficulties

this morning? One of the crystals shattered. I still have a slight headache

from the distortion. Naturally the ship could not proceed without emergency

repairs. And while that was merely a matter of removing the shards and

resetting the brackets on the undamaged crystals, it does require steady

hands, a keen eye and ear. Captain Dahl was far more adept than the

cruiser´s engineer. And he has the perfect and absolute pitch required. I

think he will prove an admirable assistant, one in whom I certainly repose

complete trust. You do agree, I´m sure.« They had reached the vehicle now.

»You first, Captain Dahl, I shall want Elder Ampris on my right.«

        Lars complied before the Elder could blurt out a protest and

Killashandra settled herself, smiling as warmly as possible at Ampris, just

as if she hadn´t delivered a most unpalatable request.

        The quartette settled itself in the seats behind them and the

vehicle left the dock area. Ports required much the same facilities

throughout the galaxy. Fortunately nature had conspired in favor of human

endeavors, so warehouses, seamen´s hostels, and mercantile establishments

were not quite so tortuously situated in City Port as in the City proper.

The Music Conservatory on its prominence was visible as soon as the Port

gave way to an agricultural belt. From this approach, Killashandra could

see the lateral elevation of the Festival auditorium and the narrow path

that led to the suburb Lars had called Gartertown. She wondered if there´d

be a new brew soon. Maybe Lars could collect a few bottles for her?

        The drive was in the main a silent one, with Ampris stewing beside

her and Lars stiffly silent. The strained atmosphere began to affect her,

causing her to wonder if she really were doing the right thing for Lars.

Yet if she hadn´t taken pains to divert suspicion from him, he´d be running

with a threat of rehabilitation hanging over him. Had she erroneously

assumed that he was as eager to continue their relationship as she was?

Olav had wreathed them both with the handfast garlands. Surely that act

held significance. She´d best have it out with Lars as soon as possible.

        After what seemed a long time, they drew up at the imposing

entrance to the Conservatory.

        »I dispensed with the formality of a welcoming throng, Guildmember,

in the interests of security.« Elder Ampris got out of the car and turned

to give her a steadying hand.

        »I have no fear of a second assault, Elder Ampris,« she said taking

his dry clasp and smiling ingenuously at him, »with Captain Dahl beside me.

And, you know, after the courtesies I received at the hands of the

islanders, I´m beginning to think that that attack, as well as my

abduction, were made to seem island-instigated. I can´t imagine an islander

being jealous of anything on the Mainland.«

        Lars had emerged from the car, but his expression was devoid of

reaction. The skin on Ampris´s face was taut with the effort of controlling

his. »With your comfort in mind, Guildmember, perhaps you might prefer to

eat in your suite this evening.«

        »That is so thoughtful, Elder Ampris. Resetting a crystal drive is

an exhausting process. So many fiddling things requiring fine muscle

coordination and complete concentration.« She sighed wearily, turning

slightly to smile apologetically at Mirbethan and the others. »I want to be

well rested to attack that repair tomorrow. Oh, Thyrol? With Captain Dahl

to assist me, I won´t need any other helpers.«

        She took Lars´s arm and ascended the shallow steps to the main

entrance. She felt him quivering but for which of several reasons she

couldn´t have told without glancing at his face. And she didn´t dare do

that. »Do you know the way to my quarters, Captain Dahl?«

        »If I may just escort you,« Mirbethan answered, hastening to lead

the way.

        »I was never in this part of the Conservatory, Crystal Singer,«

Lars said as they entered the imposing main lobby.

        »You´ve been to the conservatory, Captain Dahl?« Killashandra

asked.

        »Yes, Guildmember, I studied here for three years.«

        »Why, Captain, you have unexplored capabilities. Are you then a

singer?«

        »Vocal music is not taught at the Conservatory: only the organ.«

        »Really, I would have thought the planet´s main Conservatory would

exploit every musical potential. How odd!«

        »Do you find it so, Guildmember?«

        »In other parts of the FSP, vocal arts are much admired, and a

Stellar soloist highly respected.«

        »Optheria places more value on the most complex of instruments.«

Lars´s tone was of mild reproof. »The sensory organ combines sound,

olfactory and tactile sensations to produce a total orchestration of

alternate reality for the participant.«

        »Is the organ limited to Optheria? I´ve never encountered one

before in all my voyaging.«

        »It is unique to Optheria.«

        »Which certainly has many unique experiences for the visitor.«

        Mirbethan´s pace, and her erect back, seemed to reflect at once her

approval, and shock, at their conversation.

        »Why, then, Captain Dahl, if you have studied to use the organ, are

you sailing about in the islands?«

        »Because, Guildmember, my composition was ah . . . not approved by

the Masters who pass judgment on such aspirations, so I returned to my

previous occupation.«

        »To be sure, I am selfishly glad, Captain -- for who would have

rescued me had you not been in those waters?« Killashandra sighed deeply

just as they turned the corridor into the hall she did recognize .

»Mirbethan?«

        The woman whirled, her expression composed though she was breathing

rather rapidly.

        »By any chance, I mean, I know I´ve been gone a good while, but I

do hope that those beverages . . .«

        »Your catering facility has been completely stocked with the

beverages of your choice.«

        »And the chimes have been turned off?«

        Mirbethan nodded.

        »And the catering unit instructed to supply proper-size portions of

food without requiring additional authorization?«

        »Of course.«

        »Thank you. I, for one, am starving. Sea air, you know.« With a

final smile, Killashandra swept through the door Lars held open.

        By the time he had shut it, she had discovered four ceiling

surveillance units in the main salon. »I am quite weary, Captain.«

        »With due respect, Guildmember, you did not eat much of the evening

meal, perhaps a light supper -- «

        »The variety on the catering unit seems geared to student

requirements . . . unless you, having spent time here, can make a

suggestion.«

        »Indeed I would be delighted to, Guildmember.« Lars located several

more as they moved through the suite to the two bedrooms. He peered into

the first bathing room and grinned broadly at her. »May I draw you a bath?«

        »An excellent idea.« She strode to what was evidently the one room

that had been left unmonitored.

        Lars began filling the tub, having turned the taps on full.

        He reached into his tunic and extracted an innocuous metal ball. »A

deceiver, Father calls it. It distorts picture and sound -- we can be quite

free once it´s operating. And when we leave the suite,« -- he grinned,

miming the device returned to his pocket -- »it´ll drive their technicians

wild.«

        »Won´t they realize that the distortion only works when we´re

here?«

        »I suggest that tomorrow you complain about being monitored in the

bedroom. Can we cope with just one free room?« He began to undress her, his

expression intense with anticipation.

        »Two,« Killashandra corrected him with a coy moue as the bright and

elegant overall Teradia had chosen for her fell in a rainbow puddle at her

feet.

        It was, of course, thoroughly soaked with the water displaced when

Lars overbalanced her into the tub.

        When they had sated their appetites sufficiently, Killashandra idly

described wet circles on the broad expanse of Lars´s chest. »I think that

with the best motives in the world, I have placed you in an awkward

situation.«

        »Beloved Killashandra, when you sprang that,« and he aptly mimicked

her voice, » ‘I have no fear of being assaulted with Captain Dahl beside

me,´ I nearly choked.«

        »I felt you quaking, but I didn´ t know if it was laughter or

outrage.«

        »And then suggesting that someone else had instigated the attack to

implicate islanders -- Killashandra, I wouldn´d have missed that for

anything. You really got mine back on the flatulent fardling. But watch

him, Killa. He´s dangerous. Once he and Torkes start comparing notes . . .«

        »They still have to get that organ fixed in time for all those

lucky little composers to practice their pieces. I´m here and even if a

replacement is coming, it´s the old bird-in-the-hand.«

        »Yes, and they´ve got to have done all the Mainland concerts to

ensure a proper Optherian attitude toward visitors.«

        »Proper attitude? Mainland concerts? What do you mean?«

        Lars held her slightly away from him in the capacious bath, reading

her face and eyes.

        »You don´t know? You don´t really know why that organ is so

important to the Elders?«

        »Well, I do know that the set-up will produce an intense emotional

experience for the listener. It verges on illegal manipulation.«

        Lars gave a sour laugh. »Verges? It is. But then you would only

have seen the sensory elements. The subliminal units are kept out of sight,

underneath the organ loft.«

        »Subliminals?« Killashandra stared at Lars.

        »Of course, ninny. How do you think the Elders keep the people of

Optheria from wanting any of the marvels that the visitors tell them about?

Because they´ve just had a full dose of subliminal conditioning! Why do you

think people who prefer to exercise their own wits live in the islands? The

Elders can´t broadcast the subliminals and sensories.«

        »Subliminals are illegal! Even the sensory feedbacks border on

illegality! Lars, when I tell the FSP this -- «

        »Why do you think my father was sent to Optheria? The FSP wants

proof! And that means an eyeball on the illegal equipment. It´s taken

Father´s group nearly thirty years to get close enough.«

        »Then you weren´t here just to learn to play that blasted thing?«

        »Playing the blasted thing is the only way to get close enough to

it to find out where the subliminal units are kept. Comgail did. And died!«

        »You´re suggesting he didn´t suicide?«

        Lars shook his head slowly. »Something Nahia said during the

hurricane confirmed my suspicion that he hadn´t. You see, I knew Comgail.

He was my composition tutor. He wasn´t a martyr type. He certainly wanted

to live. He was willing to risk a lot but not his life. Nahia mentioned

that he´d asked Hauness to provide him with rehab blocks. A good block --

and Hauness is the best there is -- prevents the victim from confessional

diarrhea and a total loss of personality. Comgail had been so above

reproach all the time he´d been at the Conservatory that not even a

paranoid like Pedder would have suspected him of collusion with dissidents.

But, for shattering the manual, Comgail´d automatically be sent to rehab.

He had prepared himself for that. He wasn´t killed by a crystal fragment,

Killa, he was murdered by it. I think it was because he had found the

access to the subliminal units.«

        »Subliminals!« Killashandra seethed with horror at the potentially

total control. »And he found the access? Where? All I need is one look at

them -- «

        Lars regarded her solemnly. »That´s all we need -- once we find

them. They´ve got to be somewhere in the organ loft.«

        »Well, then« -- Killashandra embraced him exuberantly -- »wasn´t I

clever to insist that you and I handle the repairs all by ourselves.«

        »If we´re allowed!«

        »You´ve the jammer.« She rose from the deep bath, Lars following

her. »Say, if your father´s so clever with electronics, why hasn´t he

figured a Way to jam the shuttleport detection arch?«

        Lars chuckled as she dried him, for once more interested in

something other than his physical effect on her.

        »He´s spent close to thirty years trying. We even have a replica of

the detector on Angel. But we cannot figure a way to mask that residue.

Watch out for my ears!« She had been briskly toweling his hair.

        »Does the detector always catch the native?«

        »Infallible.«

        »And yet . . .« She wrapped her hair in a towel. She pointed to the

jammer and then proceeded to the salon. Lars followed, the jammer held

above his head like a torch, a diabolical gleam in his eye as he waved it

at each of the monitors he passed. »Yet when Thyrol came out right with me,

the detector didn´t catch him. And passed me.«

- »What? No matter how many people pass under it, it will always detect the

native!«

        »It didn´t then! I wonder if it had anything to do with crystal

resonance.

        »You mean in you?«

        »Hmmm. It´s not exactly something we can experiment with, is it?

Prancing in and out of the shuttleport.«

        »Hardly -- and we´re half a world away from the only other one.«

        »Well, we can worry about that later. After we´ve found the access

and after we´ve repaired that wretched organ! Now,« and she opened the

doors of the beverage store with a flourish, »what shall we drink with our

supper?«

 

Chapter 19

 

Killashandra woke before the chimes, which did not sound in her suite but

were nevertheless audible from the adjacent sections of the Conservatory.

She woke refreshed and totally relaxed, and cautiously eased herself away

from Lars´s supine body so that she might have a better view of his

sleeping form. She fell oddly protective of him as she propped her head on

one hand and minutely inspected his profile. Thus she noticed that the tips

of his long eyelashes were bleached and the lid itself was not as dark as

the surrounding skin. Fine laugh, or sun lines, fanned out from the corners

to the temple. The arch of his nose just missed being too high, too thin,

being balanced by fine modeling and length. His cheeks wore a dusting of

freckles which she hadn´t noticed before. And several dark brow hairs were

out of line as the brow curved around the eye socket. Several hairs

bristled straight up at the inner edges of brows that would almost meet

when he frowned.

        She liked best his wide lips, more patrician than sensual. She knew

the havoc they could raise with her body and felt they were perhaps his

best feature. Even in sleep, the corners raised slightly. His chin was

rather broader than one was aware when his face was mobile, but the strong

jawline swept back to well-shaped ears, also tan, with a spot of new

sunburn about to peel on the top skin.

        The column of his neck was strong and the pulse beat in his throat.

She wanted to put her finger tip on it and almost did before retracting her

hand. He was more truly hers when asleep, untouched by stress, relaxed, his

rib cage barely moving.

        She loved the line of his chest, the smooth skin clothing smooth

pectoral muscle, and once again she had to repress the wish to run her hand

down the shape of him, to feel the fine crisp hair on his chest. He was not

hirsute and she found that much to her preference as well, his legs and

arms having only a fine dusting of blond hairs.

        She had seen handsomer men but the composition of his face pleased

her better. Lanzecki -- now that was the first time she´d thought of him in

days -- actually was the more distinguished in looks, heavier in build. She

decided she preferred the way Lars Dahl was put together.

        She sighed. It was easier to be philosophical about Lanzecki. Would

she have been as easily resigned to that loss if she hadn´t met Lars Dahl?

She had broken off with Lanzecki for his own good, but she hadn´t »lost«

him, for she would return to Ballybran. Once she´d left Optheria . . .

        For a moment her emotions hovered above a new abyss of despair and

regret. And for the first time in her life, the thought of bearing a man´s

child crossed her mind. That was as much an impossibility as remaining with

Lars, but it emphasized the depth of her emotional involvement with the

man. Perhaps it was just as well that no child was possible, that their

liaison would end when this assignment was over. She surprised herself!

Children were something other people had. To feel that desire was

remarkable.

        Optheria, for all its conservatism and alleged security, had

unexpected facets of danger. Not the least of which were her adventures so

far. She could hardly fault Trag, or rail at the Encyclopedia Galactica.

Facts she had had. What couldn´t have been foreseen were the astonishing

predicaments which had entangled her. And the fascinating personalities.

        More extraordinary still, she remembered all too vividly, and with

just a trace of chagrin, her rantings and ravings and desperation´s when

she´d left Ballybran, a sacrifice to the Guild for Lanzecki´s good. Now,

when contemplating a much deeper and irreversible loss, why was she so

calm, fatalistically resigned, even philosophical. How very strange! Had

her loss of Lanzecki inured her to others? Or was she mistaking her

feelings for Lars Dahl? No! She´d remember Lars Dahl for the rest of her

life without benefit of data retrieval.

        The second chimes rang faintly across the open court outside the

windows. Faint but sufficient to waken Lars. He was as neat on wakening as

he was in sleep. His eyes opened, his right hand searched for her body, his

head turned and his smile began as he located her. Then he stretched, arms

above his head, back arching toward her as he extended his legs and then on

the top of his extension, suddenly retracted himself, drawing her against

him, to complete a morning ritual which included the exercise of their

intimate relationship. Each time, they seemed to discover something new

about themselves and their responses. She particularly liked Lars´s

capacity for invention, stimulating as it did heretofore unsuspected

originalities in herself.

        As usual hunger roused them from these variations.

        »Breakfast here is the heartiest meal,« Lars said cheerfully,

striding quickly for the catering unit. »You´ll like it.«

        Killashandra saw that he had left the jammer behind him, and she

followed him at a quick trot, holding the device up to distort anything

else he might say.

        He laughed. »We´d best leave them something to hear. A discussion

of breakfast must be sufficiently innocuous.«

        Killashandra settled in one of the chairs near the catering unit,

swiveling her hand as she looked at the little jammer. If only some way

could be found to mask that mineral residue in Optherians! Blank out the

detector.

        »You know,« Killashandra said as they ate, sitting companionably

together on the elegant seating unit, »I simply cannot understand this

concentration on one instrument -- albeit a powerful one -- but they´re

wiping out more than ninety-nine percent of the FSP´s musical traditions

and repertoire, as well as stultifying talents and potential. I mean, your

tenor is formidable!«

        Lars shrugged, giving her a tolerant side glance. »Everyone sings

-- at least in the islands, they do.«

        »But you know how to sing.«

        Lars cocked an eyebrow at her, still humoring what he felt was her

excessive fascination with a minor ability.

        »Everyone knows how to sing -- «

        »I don´t mean just opening the mouth and shouting, Lars Dahl. I

mean, projecting a voice, supporting it properly on the breath, phrasing

the music, carrying the dynamic line forward.

        »When did I do all that?«

        »When we did that impromptu duet. When you sang on the beach, when

you did that magnificent duet from The Pearl Fishers.«

        »I did?«

        »Of course. I studied voice for ten years. I -- « She shut her

mouth.

        »Then why are you a crystal singer instead of one of these famous

vocal artists?«

        A surge of impotent fury, followed by a wave of regret, and then a

totally incomprehensible loathing of Lars for reminding her so acutely of

the interview with Maestro Valdi -- the moment that had changed her life --

rendered Killashandra speechless.

        Lars watched her, his mild curiosity turning to concern as he saw

the emotions in her stormy eyes and face. He put a hand on her bare thigh.

»What did I say to distress you so?«

        »Nothing you said, Lars.« She dismissed all that from

consideration. It was over and done with. »I had all the requirements to be

a Stellar, except one. A voice.«

        »Ah, now.« Lars pulled back in indignation.

        »I´m quite serious. There´s a flaw, a noticeable and unpleasant

burr in the voice that would have limited me to secondary roles.«

        Lars laughed now, his white teeth gleaming in his tanned faced, his

eyes sparkling. »And you, my beloved Sunny,« he kissed her lightly, »would

never settle for being second in anything! Are you first among crystal

singers, then?«

        »I don´t do badly. I´ve sung black crystal, which is the hardest to

find and cut properly. In any event, there aren´t degrees among singers.

One cuts to earn enough credit for the things one needs and wants.« Now why

wasn´t she being totally honest with Lars? Why didn´t she confess that the

sole aim of most crystal singers was sufficient credit not to have to sing

crystal -- to leave Ballybran for as long as possible?

        »I wouldn´t have thought crystal singers are so much like

islanders,« Lars surprised her by saying. »Well, you cut for what you need

and want, much as we fish or plant polly, but all we really need is

available.«

        »It´s not quite the same thing with crystal,« Killashandra said

slowly, glad she had been less than honest. Why disillusion Lars

needlessly? On so many worlds, in so many minds, there were so many

misconceptions about crystal singers, she had not realized how much a

relief it was to find an unbiased world -- at least one unbiased with

respect to her Guild.

        »Cutting crystal seems more dangerous than fishing.« He stroked her

scarred hand. »Or learning polly.«

        »Stick to fishing, Lars. Crystal´s hazardous to your health. Now,

we´d best apply ourselves to fulfill my Guild contract with these fardling

fools. And maybe shake them out of their organic rut!«

        They dressed and then Killashandra entered the number Mirbethan had

given her. The woman seemed immensely relieved to accept the call and said

that Thyrol would be with them directly.

        »D´you suppose he slept in the hall?« Killashandra murmured to Lars

as she answered the polite scratching on the hall door. Lars shook his head

violently, then held up his hand while he deactivated the jammer and

pocketed it. »Good morning, Thyrol. Lead on.« She gestured peremptorily,

smiling at Thyrol before she noticed two burly men in security uniforms. »I

have no need of them!« she said coldly.

        »Ah . . . they will not interfere, Guildmember.«

        »I´ll make sure of that, Thyrol. I will need the duragloves -- «

        »Everything you requested before your unfortunate disappearance is

in the organ loft.«

        »Oh, very well then. It´s gathered dust long enough. Lead on!«

        Once again the instinctive reaction to tiptoe and maintain silence

affected Killashandra as they emerged onto the stage of the Festival

auditorium. She glanced at Lars to see if he was similarly affected. He

grimaced slightly and she noticed that his active stride perceptibly

altered. She did not miss the almost covetous way he frowned at the covered

organ console. And wondered what she could do about that! She had been

entranced with the music he played on the twelve-stringed instrument, and

she was eager to hear it with organ amplification. Or would that be too

cruel an imposition?

        As Thyrol used his keys on the panel to the loft, Killashandra

wondered if among them were the keys that would allow access to subliminal

mechanisms. All three on that ring were apparently needed to open the loft

door. Or would someone of Thyrol´s rank even know about such a refinement?

She presumed it was limited to Elder rank only, or maybe a Master or two.

They´d need someone with a hefty dab of imagination and energy to create

subliminal images. Unless the subliminals reflected the inflexibility of

the Elders´ attitudes toward everything, which was also logical -- Why

search for a template when one was oneself the ultimate role model?

        The necessary equipment was indeed in the loft, neatly stacked

against one side of the long wall. Lars maintained an attitude of casual

indifference after giving the room a sweeping glance. Killashandra noted

the monitor buds, caught Lars´s glance and gave him a nod. She waited until

his hand disappeared into his pocket and then bent over the open console

and the glittering shards of crystal.

        »Lars Dahl, grab a mask and some gloves, and bring that bin over

here. And a mask and gloves for me. I don´t fancy inhaling crystal dust in

those close quarters.« Then she looked up at the burly men taking up so

much space in the loft. »Out!« She flicked her fingers at them. »Out, out,

out, out! You´re taking up space and air.«

        »This room is well ventilated, Guildmember,« Thyrol began.

        »That is not the point. I dislike observers peering at my every

move. There´s no need for them. Certainly no one can get in or out of here.

They can stand on the other side of the door and repel boarders! In fact,

Thyrol, without meaning offense, your absence would oblige.«

        »But -- «

        »You´ll only be hovering. I´m sure you have more important duties

than hovering! And you´re a distraction -- Or, are you one of those I´m to

teach crystal installation?«

        Thyrol drew back, affronted by the suggestion and without further

protest retired from the loft.

        »Now,« Killashandra began, not even watching the man leave, »the

first thing we must do is clear the shards. Stick to the larger pieces,

Lars Dahl. My body deals with cuts more easily than yours. Hang up that

lid. We´ll put the pieces on that before transferring them to the bin.

Crystal has a disastrous habit of spraying shards when it bounces . . .

Shouldn´t want unnecessary accidents to mar this procedure.«

        »Why´d you want the jammer on in here? Guild secrets?« Lars´s voice

was muffled by the mask.

        »I just want them to understand that monitors won´t work around me.

I was brought up on a planet that respects privacy and I´m not allowing

Optherians to violate that right. Not for all the sensory organs on this

narking world. Besides, how else can we search for the access? It would

look far odder if suddenly their scanners don´t work, than if they haven´t

worked from the start. Now, let´s do what we came for.«

        It was slow work, especially once Lars had cleared the larger

pieces. The extractor could be used only in short bursts; continued suction

expelled tiny splinters right through the bag. For that reason, the bag had

to be emptied and brushed out after each burst.

        »It´d be easier with two of these, wouldn´t it?« When Killashandra

nodded, Lars strode to the door panel, slid it open, and issued the

request. Killashandra heard a murmured reply. »Now, I said! We don´t have

time to wait for the request to go through Security. By the First Fathers!

Does everything have to be authorized by Ampris. Move it! Now!«

        Killashandra grinned at him. Lars´s return grin was pure

satisfaction.

        »If you knew how often I´ve wanted to bark at a Security man -- «

        »I can´t honestly imagine you making meek -- «

        »You´d be surprised at what I´m willing to do for a good reason.«

He gave her a singularly wicked look.

        A case of the extractors was delivered in half an hour by an

officer whom Lars later told Killashandra was Blaz´s second in command, but

not a bad fellow for all of that. Castair had been known to look the other

way during student romps which Blaz never would have permitted.

        »Guildmember,« Castair began, as Lars took the case from him,

»there´s some problem with the monitoring system in here.«

        »There is?« Killashandra straightened up from the console, glancing

about her.

        Castair indicated the corner nodules.

        »Well, I don´t want someone distracting me while I´m doing this.

Your repairs can wait. We certainly are not damaging anything!«

        »No, of course not, Guildmember.«

        »Then leave it for now.« She waved him off, bending back to the

tedious cleaning before he had left.

        »Perfect pitch is not the only talent required to sing crystal.«

Lars´s comment startled Killashandra as she finally stood erect, arching

her back against tight muscles.

        »Oh?«

        His expression was a mixture of respect and something else. »A

crystal singer has total concentration and an absence of normal human

requirements -- such as hunger!«

        Killashandra twisted her wrist to look at the chrono and chuckled,

leaning against the unit behind her. It was mid-afternoon and they had been

working steadily since nine that morning.

        »You should have given me a nudge.«

        »Several,« Lars said dryly. »I only mention it now because you´re

looking a bit white under your tan. Here.« He thrust a heatpak at her. »I

do not have your dedication so I sent for food.«

        »Without authorization?« Killashandra broke the seal on the soup,

aware that she was very hungry indeed.

        I took a hint from your manner and pretended they had no option but

obedience.« He shook his head. »Are all crystal singers like you?«

        »I´m pretty mild,« she said, sipping carefully at the now heated

soup. Lars passed her a plate of small sandwiches and crackers. »I only act

the maggot when circumstances require. Especially with this lot of idiots.«

She lifted and rotated one shoulder to ease back muscles Lars came to her

side, pushing her away from her perch, and began to massage her back. His

fingers unerringly found the tension knot, and she murmured her gratitude.

»I hate this part of working in crystal so I´d rather get it over and done

with as fast as possible.«

        »How crucial is the clean sweep?«

        Killashandra sang a soft note and the crystal shards answered in a

nerve-twitching dissonance.

        Lars shook convulsively at the sound which, in spite of being soft,

took time to die away. »Wow!«

        »White crystal is active, picks up any sound. Leave so much as the

minutest particle of crystal dust and it´ll jam the manual and produce all

kinds of subharmonics in the logic translator. It´d really be easier to

start with a brand new manual case but I doubt they´d have spare parts.

Which reminds me -- the ten brackets that I´ve cleared are all spoiled.«

She picked one up, turning the clamping surface so that the scratches

picked up the light. »Tighten one of these on a new crystal and you´d

create uneven stresses through the long axis of the crystal, introducing

spurious piezoelectric effects and probably a flaw in next to no time.«

        Lars took the bracket from her, hefting it in his hand. »They´re no

problem. Olver can do them.«

        Instinctively Killashandra looked up at the monitors as Lars

mentioned his contact. She dragged at the fabric of Lars´s sleeve and

pointed to the surveillance buds, where traces of black had mysteriously

appeared to make an aureole about each unit. »Now what did that?«

        Killashandra chuckled and pointed to the white crystal. »A secret

weapon for you when I leave. Sing white crystal to whatever room you´re in

and blast the monitors.« She reached for one of the larger pieces Lars had

cleared away and hefted it. »We´ll just save some of this for you. I wonder

if Research and Development know about this application of white.«

        Suddenly Lars had his arms about her, his face buried in her hair,

his lips against her neck. She could feel the tension in him and caressed

him with gentle hands.

        »Oh, Sunny, must you leave?«

        She gave him a twisted, rueful smile, gentling the frown from his

face with tender fingers »Crystal calls me back, Lars Dahl. It´s not a

summons I can ignore, and live!«

        He kissed her hungrily and as she responded they both caught the

slight sound, swiveling away from each other, as the door slid open.

        »Ah, Elder Ampris,« Killashandra said, »your arrival is most

opportune. Show him the bracket, Lars Dahl,« and when Ampris regarded this

unusual offering with amazement, »run your fingers over the clamping edge .

. . carefully . . . and feel how rough it is. We´re going to need some two

hundred of these, for I´m not about to trust new crystal in old brackets.

All I´ve removed so far have been scratched just like that one. Will you

authorize the order -- and designate it is urgent?«

        Killashandra snapped her mask back over her face and picked up the

brush. Then she swore.

        »I could also use a handlight of some sort. Some of this wretched

stuff is like powder.«

        Elder Ampris peered in and she heard his intake of breath. She

straightened, regarding him passively, seeing the stern accusation in his

eyes.

        »Let me demonstrate, Elder Ampris, the need for meticulous care.«

She hummed, more loudly then before, and took great delight in its effect

on the man. »Sorry about that.« She resumed work.

        »I came to inquire, Guildmember, how soon the repairs would be

completed.«

        »Since the idiot who smashed the manual put his heart in the

destruction, it´s going to take a lot more time than it did for me to

remove one shattered crystal from the cruiser drive -- if that´s the

comparison you were using.« Killashandra sighed, and looked disconsolately

at the crystal ruin. »It´s slow going because of the nature of crystal and

because, as you perceived, every smidgeon has to be cleaned out. That´s all

we´ve achieved today . . .«

        Elder Ampris shot a sour glance at Lars. »More helpers?«

        Killashandra gave a bark of laughter. »Just find me a vacuum

capable of sucking up crystal dust and we´d clear this in an hour. Or,

supply me with a brand new case!« And she gave the one before her a

dismissive slap with her hand. Crystal pinged, Lars and Ampris winced.

»Gets to you, doesn´t it? Well, Elder Ampris, that´s where we stand. Now,

if you´ll excuse me, the nitty gritty doesn´t get done by talking about

it.« She picked up her brush but Ampris cleared his throat.

        »A dinner and concert have been arranged for your enjoyment this

evening,« he said.

        »I appreciate the courtesy, Elder Ampris, but until I have finished

this, I wouldn´t feel right about taking any time off for mere

entertainment. If you´ll send us in some more food -- «

        »Guildmember,« Lars interrupted, »with all due respect, Elder

Ampris is not . . . I mean, it is hardly his responsibility . . . »

        »What are you trying to say, Captain?«

        Ampris, his eyes glinting with the first glimpse of the humor she

had seen from him since that long-ago reception, held up his hand,

relieving Lars of the necessity of explanation.

        »If the Guildmember is willing to forego pleasure to complete her

task, I feel I may serve as messenger for her requirements.«

        »Apparently everything I require has to be authorized by you

anyway. Seems silly to waste time with all those intermediate stages.«

Killashandra grinned at Ampris without a sign of remorse. »Would you not

have a word with them out there, or Thyrol? Speed things up tremendously.

Oh, and don´t forget, I need two hundred of those brackets. And the

handlight. Lars, you go with him and get it, will you? It has to be small

enough not to hamper sight, and I´d prefer a tight beam.«

        They left and she returned to work. When Lars came back with

several handbeams, his eyes were bubbling with humor.

        »Your wishes are his commands, Oh mighty Guild-member, Oh sweeper

of the white crystal specks! Orders were issued to all the boys out there,«

and he jerked his thumb at the closed door panel, »that anything you

request is to be secured as fast as possible.«

        »Hmmm. Bring one of those lights to bear on this corner, will you,

Lars?« She flicked the brush and disclosed tiny granules that glittered in

the light. »See? The fardling things are pernicious! I´ll get ‘em, every

last speck!«

        When the sumptuous dinner was wheeled in to them some time later,

she grumbled but stopped working.

        »Is crystal singing some kind of disease!« Lars asked

conversationally.

        »You sail. Do you call a halt in the middle of a storm? Do you

leave off fishing in the midst of a school to nap?«

        »It´s not quite the same thing -- «

        »It is to me, Lars. Be of good cheer. The bracketing will be

relatively easy and you can help me do that.«

        Despite her protests, Lars carried her out of the organ loft just

before midnight. When they reached her suite, she insisted that they had

better have a good soak, to be sure none of the crystal dust had penetrated

their clothing. In the bath, he had to hold her head above water, for she

kept falling asleep.

        It took nearly four days to ensure that no speck of crystal dust

remained in the case. By the time they arrived each morning, new monitor

buds had been installed. So the first thing that Killashandra did on

entering the organ loft was to hum a happy tune, charging the white crystal

shards to do their duty and blast the fragile sensors.

        On the third day, the new brackets were delivered and Killashandra

set Lars Dahl to checking each one under a microscope. Fourteen were

rejected for minor flaws. After the visit of Elder Ampris, they had no

visitors. Thyrol would conduct them every morning to the loft, unlocking it

and inquiring after their needs. Excellent meals were delivered at the

appropriate hours. Assured of uninterrupted privacy, with easily disabled

monitors, Lars had the freedom to undertake a very patient examination of

the room, searching for the location of the subliminal equipment.

        On the fourth morning, as Thyrol led them across the stage,

Killashandra noted a curious discrepancy. The loft room did not extend the

entire length of the stage behind the organ console. She silently counted

her paces to the door. When Thyrol had closed the panel and Lars had

activated the jammer, she paced out the width of the room.

        »In-ter-est-ing,« she said, her nose against the far wall. »This

room is only half the length of the stage, Lars. Does that suggest anything

to you?«

        »It does, but there is no corresponding door on the other side of

the console!« He joined her in her scrutiny of the blameless wall. »The

subliminals have to be linked to the main frame data bases. I wonder . . .«

        She followed his inspection of the cables that festooned the

ceiling, pausing where they ran alongside the wall.

        »Just a little minute,« he said, his eyes wide with discovery, and

he spun one of the impervo tubs to position just under the cables.

        He had to crane his neck, half stooped against the ceiling, but he

gave a low and triumphant whistle. When he jumped down, he gathered

Killashandra in his arms and whirled her about, crowing with exultation.

        »The wall drops -- how I don´t know, but there is just the

slightest gap at the top, where no one would think to look for it. And

three very heavy cables go through the wall.«

        Lars replaced the tub before he began to inspect the corner joint.

Once again he gave an exultant yip.

        »The whole wall must move, Killa -- but how?«

        That large a mass sinking into the floor might be a touch noisy.«

        »If we knew the mechanism . . .« He felt along the corner, then the

floor, pressing and tapping.

        »That´s far too obvious, Lars. Stupid they are but never obvious.

Try for an extrusion on one of the units, underneath ‘em, inside . . .« She

ran searching fingers under the one nearest her, finding nothing but a

rough edge on one corner which produced a gouged finger. »Ach, I haven´t

the patience for this sort of nonsense right now. You go ahead. I´ll finish

this last bit of cleaning.«

        By the time their lunch was brought in, Lars had found nothing

more. The units that could be opened had been opened with no result. Lars

stewed and fussed all through the meal at his inability to resolve the

problem.

        »What sort of form do the security measures generally take on

Optheria? Bureaucracies tend to find a reliable mechanism and stick with

it,« Killashandra suggested, with only half her attention on that part of

the problem since she was so close to clearing the manual case for the next

task.

        »I can find out. Would you mind being left alone this evening?« He

grinned at her, stroking her arm gently. »You´d be a mite conspicuous where

I want to go.«

        »And where would that be?« she asked with an arch glance of mock

disgust.

        »I´ve got to acquire a few more clothes,« and he twitched the

fabric of his shirt, not as gaudy as that of most island designs but

certainly noticeable amid the drab garb of the city dwellers. »Talk to a

few people. Lucky for us, it´s nearing the time of year when the

subliminals wear off and normal student appetites revive. I might he late,

Killa,« -- he made a grimace of regret -- »We don´t have as much time

together . . .«

        She kissed the pulse in his throat. »Whenever you return then. That

is, of course,« and she had to add a light touch to relieve the tension in

her throat, »if the guards pass you in.«

 

Chapter 20

 

And?« Killashandra prompted Lars the next morning as they breakfasted.

Despite a valiant effort to stay awake, she had been asleep when he

returned and he was showering when she was awakened by the distant chimes.

        »I got clothing, all right enough,« Lars admitted with a frustrated

sigh. »The Elders´ search and seizure for you was far more comprehensive

than our visitors,« and despite the jammer he was taking no chances, »had

led us to believe. Or perhaps knew. Anyone -- anyone who has been booked

even for a pedestrian offense -- was drawn. Half a dozen students were sent

on to rehab without benefit of Inquiry.«

        »Olver?«

        Lars ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his head

vigorously as if to erase his despondency. »How he escaped I don´t know and

neither, I gather, does he. We didn´t exchange more than a few signs.« Lars

propelled himself from his chair, pacing, head down. »It could very well be

that the Elders have marked him and are playing a waiting game.«

        »Are Nahia and Hauness safe?«

        Lars gave her a quick and grateful smile for that concern. »They

were holding clinics in Ironwood,« he waved his hand to the north, »at the

time of your disappearance. The City, Gartertown, and the Port took the

brunt of search and seizure. And Security then used your disappearance as

an excuse to take known dissidents in protective custody.

        »How many are?«

        »In protective custody? My dear Guildmember, such figures are never

made public.«

        »An informed guess? Suicide is one form of social protest, the size

of the p.c. population another one.«

        Lars shook his head. »Hauness might be able to find out,« and Lars

resumed his head shaking, »but I wouldn´t risk getting in touch with him

right now.«

        Killashandra stared at Lars Dahl for a lone moment, a sinking

sensation that had nothing to do with hunger cramping her guts.

        »And I have made you as vulnerable as any of those already in p.c.,

haven´t I?«

        Lars shrugged and grinned. »If you hadn´t named me your rescuer,

I´d be tucked away in a rehab cubicle right now spinning out my brains.«

        »After I´ve gone?«

        Lars shrugged again, then gave her an impudent wink. »All I need is

a half-day´s start on ‘em. And once I´ve made the islands, there isn´t an S

& S team that can find me if I don´t wish to be found.«

        He sounded so confident that, for a moment, Killashandra almost

believed him. As if he sensed her doubt, he leaned over her in the chair,

his eyes more brilliantly blue than ever, his lips upturned in a

provocative half smile.

        »Beloved Sunny, if it wouldn´t sound mawkish, I´d say that meeting

you has been the high point of my life so far. And confounding Elders

Torkes and Ampris are adventures to lighten my darkest hour -- «

        »Which might yet be in a rehab booth!«

        »I know the risk, and it´s been worth it, Killa!« He kissed her

then, a light brief touch of his lips to hers but it set her blood ringing

as quickly as crystal.

        »Speaking of Elders,« she began in an attempt to shake off her

anxiety, »we begin to bracket crystal today.« She rose from the chair with

a determined effort, then saw his expression. »All right -- I grant you,

learning to bracket and tune crystal won´t advance you in the Elders´

files, but those are useful skills anywhere else in the FSP.«

        Lars laughed. »Had we but worlds enough and time -- «

        Killashandra let out a great guffaw. »Malaprop!« But outrageous

humor made a better start to a tricky day than gloom.

        Lars was every bit as quick to learn and adept in the use of his

strong hands as Killashandra had thought he´d be. To set the white crystal

in the brackets, she asked Thyrol the height of the stroke of the padded

hammers. They already had six in place by the time Elder Ampris appeared in

the loft, Thyrol hovering anxiously behind him in the open door.

Killashandra noticed, first, the breath of sweet fresh air and she flicked

a quick glance at the intruders as they stood there. Lars was holding the

crystal dead still.

        »You´ll feel just the slightest surface tension and a slippery,

almost electric, tension when the clamps are tight enough. Tell me when you

do.«

        She tightened the brackets, keeping both little fingers under the

crystal so that she could sense that surface tension.

        »Now!« Lars said.

        »Right on!« She struck the crystal with the tone hammer, and the

rich deep note spun through the air, drifting out and causing the two door

guards to risk a quick peer into the loft. A muted and discordant response

came from the covered tubs of crystal shard. Then she straightened up and

turned to the observers. »And that´s how it´s done, Elder Ampris.«

        Ampris´s bright brown eyes glittered as he arranged his mouth in a

smile which she took to mean approbation.

        »The lower octave is always easier, for some reason, to set and

pitch,« Killashandra went on affably. »We´re making excellent progress.«

        »And?«

        Killashandra heard a curious vibration in that single word. Elder

Ampris was overly eager to have this installation completed and it could

not be simply to allow performers practice time. He also exhibited an

uncharacteristic nervousness; his fingers rubbed against his thumb.

        »I think we´ll have the entire manual finished by tomorrow evening.

Set the next pair of brackets, will you, Lars Dahl, while I watch.«

Killashandra stepped away from the cabinet, stood next to Elder Ampris.

»He´s quick and deft and once I´m sure he´s doing it right, we´ll work both

ends against the middle.«

        Ampris regarded her with a blink, his mind evidently jumping to

another application of that phrase. His stiff and pleased smile forewarned

her. »You will then perhaps be delighted to have trained assistance.«

        »Trained?« Killashandra glanced at Lars who had also suspended

motion, catching the smugness in Ampris´s dry tone.

        »When we could not find you anywhere in the City, Guildmember, we

apprised your Guild of your disappearance. And requested a . . .« Ampris´s

smile took on a faintly apologetic twist, »replacement. Our need, as I´m

sure you appreciate, is urgent.«

        »It takes nearly ten weeks to get from the Scoria system to the

Ophiuchian.«

        »Not by FSP courier ship.« Ampris inclined his head briefly. »Your

Guild values you highly, Killashandra Ree . . . .«

        »Surely you´ve communicated news of my rescue?«

        Ampris spread his hands deferentially. »But of course. But we did

not then know how promptly the Heptite Guild would respond. The courier

ship has entered our atmosphere and at this very moment is landing at the

shuttleport.«

        »Trag!« And there was no doubt at all in Killashandra´s mind that

that was who had been dispatched.

        »I beg your pardon.«

        »Lanzecki would have sent Trag here.«

        »This man is capable?«

        »Eminently. However, the more we can do now, the sooner Trag and I

will finish. If you´ll excuse me, Elder Ampris?« And Killashandra signaled

Lars to continue. »Our last request to you, Ampris,« -- although Ampris had

not yet stirred from his vantage point -- »those tubs of crystal shard

could now be removed to wherever I -- or Trag -- will be instructing the

trainees. Some of the larger pieces can be useful but they are a

considerable nuisance sounding off in here.«

        »Yes, we should want to restore the monitors within this room,

Guildmember, now that the organ is nearly repaired.« Ampris flicked his

hand at Thyrol who then issued the appropriate order to the guards.

Killashandra did not dare glance in Lars´s direction.

        »Don´t bounce the tubs about,« Killashandra warned, as the guards

shuffled out with the first one.

        »There now,« Killashandra said when the door had slid shut leaving

them alone, »the shards´ll be more accessible to us now. We can purloin the

ones we want. Can you get your hands on a small plasfoam pouch?«

        »Yes. Who´s this Trag?«

        »The best person they could possibly have sent. Lanzecki´s

Administration Officer.« Killashandra chuckled. »I´d rather him than an

army, and certainly I´d rather him than any other singer they could have

chosen. And a courier ship. I am flattered.«

        »Somehow Ampris is too pleased with this development.«

        »Yes, and fretting with impatience. Killashandra mimicked his hand

gesture and Lars nodded grimly. »Is it just that he wants the organ done?

Or us out of the loft for good?« She swiveled slightly so that she was

facing the wall they could not shift. »Why?« She bit one corner of her lip,

trying to solve its mystery. Then, with an exclamation, she ran her hands

around the casing of the manual, picked up the lid and examined it closely.

        »What are you looking for, Killa?«

        »Blood! Did you see any discoloration on the shards you handled?«

        »No -- If Camgail was killed by,« and he gestured at the newly

placed crystal spires, »there would have been blood somewhere here!«

        »Was there only the official version of Comgail´s end?«

        »No. I had a chance to speak with one of the infirmary attendants

and she said that he was covered in blood, crystal fragments had pierced

eyes, face, and chest.«

        »With a little help, perhaps? But do you know for certain that it

was Comgail who shattered the manual?«

        Lars nodded slowly, his eyes gray and bleak, his face

expressionless.

        »And he had mentioned earlier that he knew the access to the

subliminal units was through the organ loft?«

        Again Lars nodded and both stared at the wall.

        »Comgail did all the maintenance on the Festival organ?« At Lars´s

impassive nod, Killashandra scrubbed at her face with one hand. »Did Ampris

ever compose or perform?« she asked in angry exasperation.

        The look of total surprise on Lars´s face gave her the answer.

        »No wonder he´s been bouncing about here,« Lars cried, seizing

Killashandra and hugging her with the excess of his jubilation. »No wonder

he´s been so eager to get the manual repaired. He can´t get to the

subliminal units until it is. He can´t alter the subliminals for this

year´s concerts. Oh, Killa! You´ve done it.«

        »Not quite,« Killashandra said with a laugh. »I´m only

hypothesizing that the manual provides the unlocking mechanism. We´ve no

idea what sort of music key he´d use. It could be anything -- «

        »No, not anything,« Lars cried, shaking his head and grinning, his

eyes vividly blue again. »I´d stake my life I know what he´d use -- «

        »I wish you wouldn´t use a phrase like that,« Killashandra

murmured.

        Lars gave her a reassuring grin and went on. »Remember what you

said about bureaucracy finding one mechanism that suited them? Well,

Ampris´s one and only Festival offering utilizes a recurrent theme.«

        »But everyone on the planet would know it then.«

        »What difference would that make? You´d still have to have access

to this manual, wouldn´t you?«

        »True. What´s the theme?«

        »It´s a real thumpety-dump,« and he da-da-ed the notes to

Killashandra´s utter amazement.

        »Not only is it thumpty-dumpety-dump, it´s complete and utter

plagiarism. Ampris lifted that theme from an 18th Century composer named

Beethoven.«

        »Who?«

        Killashandra lifted her hands in exasperation. »Enough of this idle

speculation, Lars, we´ve got to finish the organ as fast as possible.«

        »What about Trag?«

        Killashandra shook her head. »Trag is no threat to us. If we could

just get the bass noted finished, we´d have something to show him. I hope.«

She dropped a set of brackets into Lars´s hands and took another for

herself. »You wouldn´t happen to know the signature of Ampris´s

composition?« When Lars shook his head, she cursed briefly and then began

to chuckle. »We´ll just try the original one!«

        Because they were rushing, nervous with anticipation and hope,

hands sweating from tension, it seemed to take three or four attempts to

place each of the next three crystals. Lars was muttering imprecations by

the time Killashandra could test the third one. No sooner had she struck

the crystal than the door panel slid open and the aperture was filled by