Crystal Line

Chapter 12

Killashandra Ree was vastly surprised to waken once more to the living world.

"She's back," a low voice murmured, and a cool hand rested lightly on her forehead."Hey, you made it!"The cheery tone rich with relief was Boira's.

"I'm not so sure of that," Killa replied, spacing her words carefully.Her head felt several sizes too large, and while it didn't ache, it might just as well have.A brightness pressed unmercifully against her eyelids, and she squeezed them tighter."Got any analgesics?"

"What?A crystal singer needing medication?"

"There's always a first time.I certainly wouldn't blame my symbiont for decamping after that.Whatever it was."

"There s considerable debate on that score back at the base," Brendan said, his whisper rippling with mirth.Or maybe her hearing was impaired.

"Are you whispering for my benefit?" she asked.

"Yes," Boira said in a more normal tone."You kept complaining about noise, and bright lights.Not that I blame you for that.Big Hungry Junk nearly turned nova when you fed it the black.D'you remember anything?"

"I remember dying."

"You didn't," Boira said."First thing I did was check your suit readings and, mind you, you were rigid…"

"I died," Killashandra insisted.

"Not according to your suit readings, friend, and when I got you back here-"

"Against heavy opposition," Brendan added."You'd have been real proud of Boira.She mowed 'em down."

"Sothi and Asra helped," Boira went on graciously."What on earth can I give you that might help?"Killa heard a rattling that rumbled like an avalanche inside her head.

"Try one of the homeopathics, Boira," Brendan suggested."I think that wouldn't interfere with the symbiont."

"Why isn't it working when I need it?"Killa moaned."How much light do you have on out there?"The brilliance was instantly dimmed."Thanks, Bren."

"Ah, this says it's a specific for trauma, injury and systemic malfunction.See, Bren?What d'you think?"

"Try it," Killashandra said urgently.

The spray was cool against her skin, and she could actually feel the preparation diffusing-diffusing and easing the intolerable and unidentifiable malaise that gripped her.

"Oh, Muhlah!It's working…" Killa sighed with infinite relief, feeling taut muscles and stressed nerves beginning to relax.The noise level began to drop, and the light beating against her eyelids diminished to a comfortable level.

"I'm thirsty," she said then, suddenly aware of her parched throat and mouth tissues.She didn't quite have the courage to open her eyes.

Very gently, Boira laid an arm under her and raised her head enough to make it easy to drink from the beaker pressed against her lips.

"It's full of electrolytes and the other stuff a convalescent needs," Boira said.

She couldn't taste a definite flavor, but the moisture was very welcome.It, too, was traceable all the way down her gullet and into her stomach.She could feel her body absorbing the wetness.Was her bloody symbiont fast asleep, zapped out of existence, or working overtime?She had been injured often enough to know that the symbiont's work was generally too subtle to be noticeable.What had Big Hungry done to her?

"Our diagnostic unit says you're in perfect physical condition," Boira said, "in case you're worried."

"I wish I could agree."Killa forced her lids open to a slit and, finding that this was not painful, opened them further.She was in her cabin on the 1066, and the digital dateline over the door informed her that she had lost two full days."So, tell me what happened?" she bravely asked Boira, who was sitting beside her bunk, an open medical chest on a stand next to her.

"First you went rigid…"

"I remember that very clearly."And Killa did, with a clarity that astounded her.In the moment she had anticipated her death, every bone had seemed to harden, every artery, vein, and capillary solidified.Color had coruscated through her eyes into every cell of her body, rippling in an inexorable tide, lapping back and plunging forward again, as if she were being swirled in some liquid element… and all the while her life had been fast-forwarding through her mind.

"I got to you before Rudney did, and your two cronies helped me get you off the ladder.Even the suit material felt petrified but, as I said, your life signs registered normal."

"Normal was not what happened to me."

"Agreed, but that's what the monitors told me.And I was relieved.Meanwhile, all hell had broken loose.I mean, the Junk was indescribable.Brendan'll show you his recordings…"

"Later" ' Killa suggested weakly.The thought of seeing all that color again was more than she could handle.

"Of course, whenever you wish," Brendan said gently."Talk about scientific detachment and impartial observation…" He chortled maliciously."Rudney and his crew were hysterical.Everyone tried to get through the exit at the same time.'S a wonder suits weren't ripped in the press."

"I don't blame them for being scared," Killa said charitably.

"They weren't scared," Brendan replied in scathing tone."They just wanted to get back to the base to see what the instruments were logging.Rudney kept trying to shut 'em up so he could hear the broadcasts."

"Sothi and Asra were marvelous, by the way," Boira went on."They helped me get you out of the cave, and then you sort of folded, like an empty sheet.Thought we'd nearly lost you, but Bren was monitoring and kept telling us to hurry you to him.Sothi worried that perhaps we were wrong to remove you from Big Junk…"

"Big Junk had just done all it could to me and for me," Killa murmured, though she still had no idea of the extent of the alteration.She merely knew there had been one.

"D'you know what it's done?"Boira asked tentatively."Nothing new registers?"

"Sensory overload doesn't always produce measurable output," Brendan said.

"Is that your diagnosis, Bren?"Killa asked.

"Empiric only, Killa, since it's obvious by your comments and the need for supplemental medication that what you're experiencing is not corroborated by the med monitors."

"Well, maybe it's nothing more than a good night's sleep won't set right in next to no time, huh?"Killa kept her tone facetious because she could not discuss, even with such staunch friends as Boira and Brendan, what seemed to have happened to her during that sensory overload."I do feel as if I'd been turned inside out, back to front, and then wrung dry…"

The emotional and physical discharge of her first black-crystal installation had now paled to the insignificance of an insect sting.Lars was going to be furious with her, but there was no way she would ever again cut black crystal.Of that, if nothing else at this particular moment in time, she was certain.On the plus side, she would be able to tell him every single location where she had cut black.Indeed she now remembered every site she had ever cut, and the type, size, number and tuning note of every cutting she had ever made over the past one hundred and ninety-seven years.She remembered everything, and completely, to the last petty detail, and the weight of such total recall was worse than having it restored to her.

"Hungry?" asked Boira gently.

Killashandra considered this."Yes, I think I am."

"Then you must be on the road to complete recovery," Boira said, smiling as she rose."Any special requests?"

"Chicken soup?"

"The very thing," Brendan replied so heartily that Killa winced."I've an old family recipe that's supposed to cure anything from ingrown toenails to the worst degree of space fug."

Killa closed her eyes.Chicken soup, no matter how efficacious, was not going to cure what really ailed her.Who needed to remember everything?Everything except how Big Hungry Junk had done what it had done to her.

Being aboard the BB-lO66 had other advantages besides excellent nursing care and incredible food.Rudney could not get to her, though he demanded interviews on an hourly basis, insisting that she finish installing the crystal according to the contract he had made with the Guild Master.He threatened to sue her and the Guild for breach of contract.

"Tell him I installed the crystals as per the contract.Nothing in it said I had to do the old splinters, too.And I won't."

When Rudney exhorted the 1066 to turn the crystal singer over to him, Brendan informed him that he had no such authority over his passengers.

They remained on Opal's surface only long enough to be sure Killa had sufficiently recovered from the physical depletion to withstand the disorientation of a Singularity Jump.Then Brendan lifted his tail from the planet.

After the second of the three Jumps, curiosity got the better of Killashandra.She wanted to know what had happened to Big Hungry after it had gobbled the black crystal.Maybe that would distract her mind from a constant survey of memories she really didn't want to have on replay.

"Rudney's group haven't come to any conclusions," Brendan said, having discreetly continued to monitor all their transmissions and internal conversation."They're still examining their data.Thermoelectric emissions have gone off the scale of their instrumentation.Significant growth of all the FM units-"

"Jewels, please, Bren, or Junk," Boira interposed.

"They seem to be oozing into every available cave, crack, crevice, cranny.The planet's rotation has shifted erratically, and sunspot activity has also increased.All the crystals glow, and the static they emit is constant."

"Junk is using the crystals for communication then?"Killa asked.

"It would appear so," Brendan said, "though to what end, Rudney's group doesn't know.Their semanticist is analyzing the frequency and consistency of patterns, and the rhythm at which they flow, which varies."

"Klera was correct?"Killa asked, quite delighted at the thought.

"They won't commit themselves," Brendan said in a mildly snide tone of voice.

"Naturally.They don't deny the sentience of Junk, do they?"

"They can't when it is obviously altering its environment," Boira said, grinning broadly."Oh, by the way, Rudney sent off a request for another singer to install the splinters."

"For all the good it'll do him," Killa said caustically.

"Fifteen minutes to the last Jump," Brendan said, and Killa scurried to the radiant-fluid tank.

Lars was waiting for her at Shankill, his worried expression clearing when he saw her striding down the corridor toward him.He embraced her hungrily, burying his face in her hair, his fingers biting into her shoulder blades and then her waist.She leaned into him, grasping him as tightly as he did her.He was warm, strong, and just as lean as he had been when they first met so many years ago on Optheria.The essential Lars Dahl hadn't changed… she cut off the other memories that threatened to swamp her.She was getting the hang of censoring recall when she had all she needed.Otherwise all that memory could be overwhelming.

"Honest, Sunny, I had no idea what I was asking of you!" he murmured.

"You didn't ask anything," she said, surprised."I volunteered.Remember?"

He held her off, his expression wretched."Sunny, I maneuvered you into volunteering."

She reviewed the occasion quickly, laughed, and pulled him back to her."So you did, but I didn't resist much, did I?"

"How could you, crystal-mazed as you were?"He was so miserably repentant that she chuckled.

"At least you have the grace to apologize," she said."Lanzecki never did."

She felt the change in him, and this time when he held her away, he apprehensively searched her face.

"What happened, Sunny?"His anxiety was palpable; even the grip of his hands on her arms altered as if she had become noticeably fragile.

"It would appear-" She gave a breathless laugh."-that Big Hungry Junk reconnected all my memory circuits when it zapped me.The brain's electric, you know, and it got recharged, right back to my first conscious memory."

"Muhlah!"Lars stared at her, appalled.

"And I thought placing that Trundomoux King crystal was bad.The merest piffle in comparison.It's all right, love," she reassured him as she saw his eyes blink frantically."Now let's get back to Ballybran which, incidentally, I have never been more glad to see.By the way, did you get Rudney off your back?"

"I did, finally!I had to threaten to sue him for placing my best singer in jeopardy.And you got all your memories back?"She knew that he had briefly assumed his Guild Master's role."Maybe I should send another singer in…"

"Lars Dahl!"She stopped dead in her tracks, pulling him off balance."Don't you dare, Lars Dahl, don't you dare consider for one moment sending any member of the Guild to Opal for any reason!"

"Was it that bad, Sunny?"Lars was instantly solicitous.

"Was, is, and shall be, I suspect, my love, but I can handle it."She anticipated his next question."And yes, as a bonus, I can give you the coordinates of every single claim I ever cut.I can't wait to get that off my mind."She began to hurry him along to the airlock where his shuttle awaited them.

"All your coordinates?"

"That's right."

She would explain the other side of that coin to him later, and as gently as possible.Maybe out sailing in Angel II.Then she had to cope with a flood of memories, all associated with the word "angel": sailing to Island Angel's back, the storm, sheltering in the command post, meeting Nahia and Hauness, meeting his father, Olav, marrying Lars formally by island rites… Ruthlessly she cut off the stream; resolutely she closed down those reminiscences.

Lars handed her into the cabin of the shuttle and would have fastened her harness; but, laughing, she slapped at his hands, saying she could do it herself.

"Oddest thing, Lars," she said in a low tone so that Flicken, the pilot, wouldn't hear.She was going to freak a lot of folk out by suddenly remembering their names, she thought, amused.She forced her errant mind back to what she had to tell Lars."Big Junk recognized me.I remembered that little bit during the last Singularity Jump.I don't mean it said 'hello', but I think I was aware of its recognition when I got to its cavern the first time.That's why I panicked and did Three first."

"Hmmm.Interesting."

"Yeah."She smiled in a somewhat maudlin fashion."I'm glad we put its piece back."

"Is that what it remembered?"

She shrugged."Who knows what passes for memory with Junk?Rudney certainly doesn't and we decided-"

"We who?"

"Brendan, Boira, and me… decided that Klera had the right idea about the patterns being part of the communication effort."

"Pattern and rhythm?"

"Pattern, rhythm, and color."

"Hmmm.Complex."

"Too much for this back-planet girl."

"You remember everything?" he asked, dismayed for her sake.

She nodded."But I'm learning to chop 'em off before they overwhelm me.Too much is not a good thing."

"Hmmm."

He laced his fingers in hers, and she let her head roll to rest on his shoulder.She had been exceedingly lucky to have been kidnapped by Lars Dahl.She hadn't really had any guide by which to measure that serendipity or realize how truly Donalla had spoken when she said that Lars was devoted to her.She could see it now, in the tapestry of their years together-all hundred and twenty-three of them, incredible as that total was-that he had been more than friend, lover, partner, and alter ego.She remembered how devastated, how lost, she had been when he had been falsely disciplined for the Optherian affair… She remembered, with great relish, their first sexual encounter on the beach at Angel-and, more importantly, how the mutual attraction had only strengthened and deepened throughout the years."Everlasting love" took on a new dimension when applied to what she and Lars shared.

And now, she could share even more with him: his duties as Guild Master.She would be Trag to his Lanzecki.Muhlah!Had Lanzecki and Trag… She stifled a giggle.Lanzecki had been quite willing, but she had never known if Trag had had any liaisons with Guild members.Lack of memory, a fear of displaying the gaps and embarrassing herself, and Lars, had been behind her resistance to his offers.She couldn't be less than the best for Lars, and now she could take on those responsibilities with a clear conscience-and an infallible memory.

Odd how so many things worked out-if one waited long enough.That initial humiliation back on Fuerte when she had been refused solo status by the bombastic little Maestro Valdi had resulted in her meeting Carrick, and discovering the covert Heptite Guild."Silicate spider", "crystal cuckoo"-Valdi's accusations rang in her head.Foolish little man.Singing crystal had been so much more rewarding than being a mere concert singer, who could expect only three or four decades of a "good" voice!She was still "singing" after a hundred and ninety-seven years.

She turned her head and caught her reflection in the porthole.Well, a quadruple thickness of plasglas might blur lines, but she really didn't have many, thanks to the Ballybran symbiont.She certainly didn't look any two hundred and fifteen years.She smiled at her image.She wasn't much changed from the girl who had left Fuerte with a mind-damaged crystal singer.She gripped Lars's fingers tightly.

Now, if she could manage to cushion his shock that she could never again cut black crystal, she was good for another couple of hundred years.

"You won't mind letting Presnol and Donalla give you a good checkup, will you, Sunny?" he asked, his eyes dark and anxious.

"Not at all," she replied blithely."Though I'm sure Bren and Boira sent a report on ahead, didn't they?"

"That was hardly reassuring," he remarked dryly."Especially the part where you were sure you were dead.I don't exaggerate when I say that the heart went out of me."

She stroked his hand."But as it was me saying it, you had no cause to worry."

He gave her a long and trenchant look."By any chance, among your newly revived memories, do you have the one of our first night together?"

She ducked her head: the recall was instant, and almost embarrassing in its intensity.

"Did I not tell you then," he said, his voice intimately low and rich with emotion, "that you gave me the most incredible love experience of my life?"

"Lars!You don't remember that?"

He smiled at her, his eyes so filled with passion that she could feel the blood rising to suffuse her face.

"It's one of my fondest recollections, Sunny, and it is so wonderful that you remember it now, too."

He kept gazing into her eyes, stroking her hand, so that she felt like a giddy youngling.Which, she remembered, she had never been, for even at that age she had already been dedicated to the notion of herself as a singer.

"Ah, ahem…" Flicken, standing by the open shuttle door, was clearing his throat.

"Thanks, Flick," Lars said, suavely recovering.He reached across Killashandra to release her harness and then handed her out as regally as if she were indeed a queen.

"The courier's scheduled for an oh-eight-thirty docking at Bay Forty-three, Guild Master.Shall I be ready at oh-seven-hundred?"

"That'll be fine," Lars said, and hurried Killa out, obviously wishing that Flicken had not spoken.

"Who's going where tomorrow in a courier, Lars?"Killa demanded as he guided her toward the lift.As they entered, he ran his hand through his crisp blond hair.

"I've put it off as long as I could, Killa," he said apologetically."Presnol said he'd sit in for me.I shouldn't be gone long."

"Where?"She felt a definite sinking feeling.

He scratched the back of his neck."I've been putting it off because you were away, and I wasn't leaving until you got back after what Big Hungry did to you…"

"Out with it!"

"I'm not sure if you'd remember…"

She quirked an eyebrow at him, grinning."Try me."

He jabbed an impatient finger on the control pad, and she didn't take her eyes off his face.

"All right."He grinned, his eyes sparkling with the challenge."Recruitment."

"You've got permission for overt recruitment," she replied without hesitating, precisely remembering the scene and where they had stood in his office in relation to each other, "and the courier's taking you where there're some live ones."

"My, my, we are vastly improved," he said, slightly mocking, but his fingers were wrapped tenderly about her forearm.

The lift stopped, and he tugged her out.She stopped in the foyer.

"This is not the medical level."

"No, it is not.It is our level, and you can spend tomorrow with Presnol and Donalla, but you are spending the next hours with me, your Guild Master, and your ardent lover who is overjoyed to have his Sunny compos mentis, hale, whole, and hearty, back again."With a deft twist of his wrist, he pulled her into his arms and demonstrated his overjoy!

Sometime during the loverly reenactment of their first night together, he spoke of his trip to three overpopulated city-planets where he hoped to find recruits.He also had permission to enlist specific technicians to fill the empty positions or to train up in the specialist support skills.

"We desperately need more medical staff," he told her, stroking her hair as they lay entwined on the sleeping platform."Too many singers are so long in their craft that they get arrogant about their abilities and lose all common sense and any caution they might have once possessed."

"And a one-way trip to the Infirmary."She thought of Rimbol, poignantly remembering the bright gay chap he had been when they had both first come to Ballybran.That was not a comfortable memory when contrasted with his current condition.She shuddered.

"Which will have to be enlarged unless we can somehow stop the stupid mistakes singers are making…"

"You know, Lars, it can be stopped," she said, describing idle circles on his chest as she chose her words."By knowing where exactly to go to cut, cutting, and coming right back out."

"You tell 'em, Sunny," he said wearily."They're not listening to me.And if you can get them to listen, I'll love you for ever."

"You already have, Lars, you already have."

Such a statement demanded ratification.Later he returned to the subject."A few of them are, because Tiagana, Borton and Jaygrin have been loudly declaring how much credit they've made in easy straight-out-in runs.But so many singers are running on instinct now, there's no way to get through to them."

"Maybe I was hasty a bit ago, Lars," she said, "saying you mustn't send other singers to Big Hungry.If he could bring my memory back…"

"I think we'll leave that as the solution of last resort.I may be prejudiced," he said, kissing her cheek, "but you were always more than just a singer, Sunny."

"Being just a singer would have been rather limiting," she remarked, but she meant something different than he."Which reminds me, why on earth saddle Presnol with pro-tem duties?I'm much better qualified than he is."

"Are you volunteering, Killa?"

"I believe so…" She grinned up at him in the dim light of their sleeping room."But only while you're away.You don't want to risk me getting to enjoy the power, you know."

He gave a snort and wiggled his shoulders into the pillows.

"Not bloody likely.You are the best singer I've got."

She didn't like the way he said that, but by the time she had thought of a suitable response, his breathing had slowed into a sleep rhythm.An infectious one because she slipped into it, too.

Donalla and Presnol ran Killashandra through a gamut of tests, sampling her bodily juices and wiring her up to all kinds of monitors that provided reams of printout.

"All of which only tells us that you're in great physical shape…"

"For a gal my age," Killa added, preening in front of the mirror.She had been allowed to dress again and was hoping they would think of feeding her some time soon.

"Ah, yes," Donalla responded, needing to clear her throat.

Killashandra laughed."Whatever zapped me seems to have burned off the outlived dross and stupidities any human collects along the way.I don't mind being two hundred and fifteen years old.In fact, it's fun, in a bizarre fashion.How's my symbiont, by the way?I'm keenly interested in its continued functioning."

"Oh, that."Presnol flicked his fingers dismissively."It's as vigorous as mine or Donalla's and we're both much much younger than you."

"I," Killashandra said quellingly, "may make comments, and even jokes, about my antiquity, Presnol, but"-she waggled her finger at them-"no one else can.Read me?"

Presnol looked properly subdued, but Donalla had to cover her mouth to suppress her laughter.Killashandra focused all her attention on the medic.

"And you, you ingrate," she added sternly, "had better watch your step, too!Imagine!Not showing proper respect to a legend of your planet!Who is exceedingly hungry right now.And I don't care if you need to make more tests.I'm eating first."

"We'll join you."

There were as few diners in the big room as there had been on her last appearance there, Killa noted."How many singers are actually active?" she asked Donalla, vividly remembering this room packed so many years before.

"Four hundred and forty-two," Donalla said sadly.

"Ouch!That's ridiculous."Killashandra was stunned, all too aware that there had been 4,425 singers when she had joined the Guild."How many are off-planet right now?"

"Three hundred and five."

"How many inactives?"

Presnol made a face."Three hundred and seventy five."

Killa could not recall the appropriate total of that category, but then, she hadn't been interested in the figures.In any event the number was depressing.

"Seventy-four," Donalla said with a sigh."Rimbol passed on this morning.I haven't had a chance to mention it."

"Rimbol!"Killa's throat closed over after she spoke his name.She swallowed and felt tears forming in her eyes.She hadn't cried in-no, that she couldn't bring to mind.She ducked her head and struggled to get control of herself.A beaker of Yarran beer was pushed into her line of sight.She picked it up, nodding her appreciation to Presnol, and held it aloft."To Rimbol, a gay lad with a kind heart and a fine tenor voice."Then she drowned the beer in one draught.

She looked around her then, to see if she could put names to the handful of singers dining.She recognized two: they had been in the batch of twenty that Lars had recalled to cut black crystal.The tall thin fellow with the long jaw was Marichandim.But search as she did, she could not dredge up a name for the blond woman.

"D'you know her name, Donalla?"

Donalla craned her head over her shoulder."The one with Marichandim?That's Siglinda.They've done quite well cutting from coordinates."

"How many have joined in that program?"

"Of the active singers, only twelve."Donalla shook her head, and Presnol looked solemn."The others won't even listen.They run if you try to approach them.They're too far gone in their sublimations."

"Well," Killashandra said, rising, "I think I want to go over the Orientation program.If it's the same as I had under Tukolom, I think we'd better overhaul the whole thing.That's where the trouble started.Whatever singers Lars brings back are going to learn more than Rules and Regs!"

It was strange to be in this office, Killashandra thought as she entered the Guild Master's quarters.Trag's desk was clear, empty, waiting.Waiting for her, she decided with a wry grin, even if she had done her damnedest to delay the inevitable.

Lars's desk was neat, with pencil files set in four platoons across the broad surface.One group had the notation "Orient.Revis."And she smiled.She should have known he would consider that vitally important.She peered at the other notations: "Coords", and there were nine files in that group; "Recruit" had seven; "R amp;D" was the sparsest with only three.

There were several scrawled notes that she couldn't decipher stuck to one side, near his comunit, and a hologram base.She flicked it on and was gratified to see herself-a shot taken while they were on Nihal III-and then she noticed that the unit, which could hold a hundred 'grams, was full.She flicked the change switch and there she was again, in the orange wet suit he had bought her for Flag, where he had seen the prototype of Angel II.She joggled the switch again and again, pausing only long enough to identify where the 'gram had been taken.She turned the holo off and, hauling the chair firmly under her, resolutely turned to the big monitor and called up the Guild Roster.She had a lot of work to do before Lars got back.

As she had discovered once before on her single foray into administrative work for Lanzecki-she must remember to find out what happened to that dorkish Bollam, she reminded herself-she enjoyed rooting among the files and collating information.

The Guild's operating costs, of which the Infirmary was now requiring an increasingly larger share, came from tithing every singer's cut, a bone of contention between singer and Sorter.Other costs, which the singer bore for sled, fuel, equipment, living accommodations, and food, were presented at market rate.That sank her notion that the Guild took a cut from the supplies, jacking the prices up periodically.The files proved that there was no markup whatever, merely a gradual increase in wholesale costs throughout the inhabited galaxy.There had been an increase of farming on Ballybran and, to give the Guild fair credit, they paid above the average market price for foods produced on Guild lands.

There were, however, far fewer active singers to produce any tithes for the Guild and more inactive ones-some of those in a vegetable state-who had to be supported by an ever-dwindling income.Fewer cutters in the field meant less crystal to offer, and Killashandra came across orders three and four years old that were waiting to be filled.Black crystal figured largely in these back-orders but all the dark crystals were needed.

Before she could be totally depressed by the outlook, she saw a remarkable upswing over the past few months-since Lars had thrown open unused claims.Her cuts were significant in that revival though both Tiagana and Jaygrin had brought in more.To comfort herself, she reviewed the total of one hundred and ninety-five years of cutting and compared it with the records of any other singer.She was tons ahead of the two younger singers.

She then reviewed Lars's notes on Orientation.They showed the continued emphasis on note-taking after every Range trip and on the return from off-planet jaunts:he planned to have an automatic reminder on each singer's console.He had also been listing the ways in which coordinates might be inviolably kept on file.There were notes on compulsory hypnotic sessions that would access such memories.

Lars also had notes on how to modernize the various departments of the Guild, what new technology there was to replace worn machines and at what cost; and many notes on how to capitalize on the talents of the support staff with appropriate bonuses.Most of these possibilities would have to wait on a continued upward turn of filled orders.

He had taken the trouble to investigate the alternatives used by people weary of waiting for the Guild to supply crystal.Advantage one to the Guild: Ballybran crystal had a longer work life and, if damaged, did not need to be jettisoned but could be retuned and used in other installations.Its competitors could not be recycled.Some of the original shafts of Ballybran crystal, cut by Barry Milekey, for whom the Milekey Range was named, were still in use after eight hundred years.

"What we need is an advertising campaign, too," she murmured, and tried to think-without much success-of interesting slogans.Ballybran crystal hadn't needed hype: it sold itself.So long as the supply met demand.

"Well, there is an improvement," she told herself, leaning back in the conformchair and stretching."We'll build on it."

The lights had come up when the sensors registered a diminution in available illumination.She swiveled the chair and noted that night had fallen-Shanganagh and Shankill were chasing each other across the sky, but they were soon to be occluded by the clouds billowing in from the west.She turned the chair enough to see the weatherline blinking on its strip across the top of the room.Barometer was dropping, and the isobars were tight with gale-force winds.Storm warnings had been broadcast.She altered the monitor to pick up the Hangar scan and saw the blips of forty or so sleds homing in.

Good!She would have a chance to speak to some of the less productive singers.She accessed the program that would identify returning craft and asked for details of each singer as they came in.She would approach them with facts and figures: the productive time charts on those working from coordinates, and the credit they raked in.Something that appealed to any singer was how to make enough credit quickly enough to get off-planet for as long as possible.Only "as long as possible" was going to be curtailed to "as long as necessary" until the Guild had returned to its once prestigious position.

Somewhat to Killashandra's surprise, she was received with a good deal of awe by the first group of singers she approached.She had quickly scanned the details of the forty-seven who had left the storm-bound Ranges, so she knew what and how much they had cut and how long it had taken them, and she was prepared to talk them out of resisting the proposal.

She marked her victims as she sat, drinking with them: the ones who didn't have enough credit to go anywhere interesting.She'd been to a staggering number of R amp;R and vacation planets in nearly two centuries, so she was able to spin tales to make them yearn to visit such fabulous places.It didn't take her long to interest this group, eighteen in all, in using a surefire way to achieve their ends.

The insistent buzz of the comunit roused her from a deep, dreamless sleep.Once she heard it, she also recognized the emergency code and floundered with her blankets to roll to the control panel at the edge of the sleep panel.

"Killashandra!"The caller was Flicken, his face stark with grief."Oh, how can I tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"The B-and-B courier-it's sent out a Mayday."

"A B-and-B courier…" She stopped, gasping.Lars had been on a courier ship."Lars?"

Flicken nodded slowly, his chin quivering and his mouth working."Just came in."

"How?What?Couriers are…"

"Singularity trouble!"Flicken gasped out again."That's all I know.All I can find out.Mayday and a Jump disaster tag."

"Where?"

He shook his head more vigorously, but there were tears falling down his cheeks and he couldn't control the trembling of his mouth.

"Keep me informed," she said, amazed that she could sound so calm, that she wasn't raging at how abruptly her life had been shattered once again.She palmed the lights up and sat there a long, long time, her mind going in tight circles.B amp;B ships were very sophisticated vessels.Courier ships were the best of the B amp;Bs.Both brains and brawns could be expected to function under the most adverse conditions and survive against incredible odds.Singularity Jump disasters were few, but they could happen.Brendan had mentioned, in passing, that, while he was equipped to handle thousands of minute calculations during a Jump, he had several back-up, worst-scenario corrective capabilities.Furthermore, and she began to revive from the shocking news, every B amp;B ship, every naval vessel, every liner, every tanker, freighter, private yacht anywhere in the sector where the courier ship had been lost would be looking for it.If a Singularity disaster had to happen to a ship, then a courier B amp;B was the most likely one to survive.

She forced her mind to hang on to that thought and found something to wear.She went to the Guild Master's office and palmed up all the lights.She sat down in the conformchair, brought up the comsystem, and accessed Shanganagh Port Authority.

"Deputy Guild Master Ree, here," she said in an even tone, "keep me informed on any developments of the-"

"Yes, of course, Deputy Ree.We've initiated emergency proceedings and requested all naval, mercantile and private spaceships to forward all messages."

"By crystal coms, I trust," she said, mildly surprised that she could be droll at a time like this.A time like this was when a bit of drollery kept you sane, she amended.

"Yes, yes, of course, Deputy.The blacks we have here will pick up whispers in the furthest sectors of inhabited space."

"I think we'll have to find crystal that operates in Singularity space."

"Nothing works in decomposition space, Deputy."

She wondered if Jewel Junk would.

"We'll keep you informed, Deputy."

Deputy!Had she the right to use that title?Well, why not?Lars had appointed her, hadn't he?She was a better deputy than Presnol would be.She was a singer, a sometime diplomat, spy… she grinned sadly to herself.Then she pulled the multiholo base to her and called up the earliest 'gram it had stored.What appeared was the holo of herself, sun-bleached hair, the garlands Olav given her the morning they left Angel about her neck, accenting the color of the lovely gown of Teradia's making.When had Lars taken that?But he had-for here it was.

She sat there, looking at the holo, remembering all that had happened before and after it had been taken.She jumped when someone rapped at the door.

"I've only just been informed, Killa," Donalla said."Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, there is," Killashandra said, adopting a brisk tone.She had idled away enough time in private meditations."Would you dial me some breakfast?I haven't had time with so much to put in motion."

"Put in motion?"Donalla stared at her.

"Yes, I must implement the plans Lars made."She gestured at the neat piles of pencil files."It'll take my mind off the waiting."

"Oh!Then you think there's hope that-"

"There's always hope, Donalla, but I think Lars would prefer it if I didn't sit about moping like a fool, don't you?"

She had her breakfast and then arranged appointments with the Hangar-bound singers she had talked to the previous evening.Since everyone was dazed by the news that had swept through the Cube, she obtained more agreement than argument and sent seventeen of the eighteen off with three sets of coordinates each and a mission to cut where possible-for some claims were likely to be unworkable-and return as soon as they'd at least a carton of back-ordered colors.She didn't want to see a single shaft of pink or any of the pale blues and greens.Darks, and blacks whenever possible.

She managed to bury herself so deeply in revitalizing the Orientation program that she was astonished to hear multiple sleds leaving the Hangar: she had worked through the night!She allowed herself four hours' sleep and then was back at the desk, going back over Guild affairs of the past decade.

By the fifth day, she had digested every current file and reviewed older ones on merchandising and research and development so that she was fully up-to-date on Guild business.She had talked four more singers into foraging by coordinates, and seen eight of the original seventeen back in with viable crystal cuts, all dark.She encouraged the happy singers to stay overnight, have a good meal, relax with their peers, and talk about how easy it was to work known coordinates.

Each day she allowed herself a glimpse of a new hologram from Lars's incredible collection.With each new 'gram, she accessed the memories of that excursion, as fresh in her mind now as when she and Lars had lived those lovely moments.She could never be grateful enough to Big Hungry Junk for restoring the memories that allowed her to continue living.When she was dead, too, there would be no one to remember Lars Dahl as vividly as she could now.And that would be a real pity.

The restoration of memory brought with it a desire not to lose it again.She would eventually have to go out into the Ranges and cut crystal, but she did not want to jeopardize the reinstatement of so much valuable information.She had a long chat one day with the meteorologists and then asked Presnol and Donalla to have dinner with her.

"It's like this," she began when they were on their cheese and beer."The Met guys tell me that Ballybran storms are apt to produce more electricity in the air than storms on other planets.Is it possible that an overload of such electrical discharges could affect singers' minds?I mean, most of us wait until the last possible moment before leaving the Ranges.Is that why we tend to forget between trips?The electricity has somehow affected our circuits?"

"It is a possibility, isn't it?"Donalla said, looking to Presnol.

He mulled it over."I think we could profitably check memory retention on, say, those singers who are working coordinates regularly, and those who prospect right up until a storm drives them out of the Ranges.See if we can get any relevant data.We could also check just how much electricity is discharged into the atmosphere-sort of a continuous measurement.I'm sure we could find instrumentation to register that sort of emission.Hmm, rather interesting.But what good would it do?"

"If we can prove any correlation between the intensity of a particular storm and memory loss, all the more reason for us to teach the next candidates to come in at the first warning," Killa said."Or, if we can manage it, keep them all on coordinate mining."

"That would be quite a departure from tradition," Presnol said, clearing his throat.He had been on Ballybran a lot longer than Donalla.

"That's exactly the attitude that needs changing, Presnol," Killa said."The Guild needs to alter a lot of its thinking and its 'traditions' "-and she imbued that word with disgust-"if it wants to improve. And keep singers active and productive."

"Let's see what we can discover, Pres," Donalla said, smiling winningly at her lover.She gave Killa a wink that suggested the matter could be left safely in the medics' hands now.

The fourth week brought the first of the recruits from Lars's ill-fated journey.Forty-four young, eager persons trained in a variety of skills, and fifteen others with the perfect pitch required for crystal singers.That was more than had applied to the Guild in several years.There were two more groups scheduled to arrive over the next weeks, but once the first group had been processed, Killashandra ordered them right down to Ballybran.She would take the first Orientation sessions herself.She would show them the way to go, to be successful singers.They, and others like them, would revitalize the Guild-in Lars's memory.

The Council, composed of the heads of departments of the Heptite Guild on Ballybran, were becoming more insistent that she formally accept the position of Guild Master, but she resisted.Acceptance meant, in her lexicon, that she had accepted Lars's death, and she couldn't.She still didn't want to be Guild Master, no matter how many people told her she had taken command as if she had trained all her life to assume the rank.What she could do was implement Lars's plans and have the Guild operating efficiently again.

When Donalla insisted she take a break from the console before her eyes turned square, she would go down to the Angel II in its big shed.She felt close to Lars there and could dwell on the memories of their many sea voyages together.Oh, how she longed to sail with him just one more time!She grieved over her acrimonious griping about his love for the sea, her perverse opposition to his choice of water planets for their holidays.She had been unkind, and ungrateful, to insist on her turn at choosing a vacation place, when she knew how much the sea and sailing meant to him.

She had just returned from another maudlin review of her shortcomings, foibles and limitations, and listlessly entered the office that now felt more hers than Lars's.She was wondering which chore she could use to occupy her mind until fatigue pushed her into sleep when the comunit beeped.

"Now what?" she demanded, irritated to have duties press in on her so quickly.

"Patching through," was the excited comment, and then an intolerable rasping, squeaking, high-pitched blast.

"Sunny?"

"Lars!"His name came out of her mouth in a scream.There was no one else in the galaxy who called her "Sunny" and no voice with quite the same timbre as his."You're alive?"

"Kicking, too."

"Turn on the vision, Lars.I've got to see you!"Tears streamed down her face, and she had to grip the edge of the desk to keep on her feet.But the voice, the words: it had to be Lars.

His chuckle reassured her again."Not on your life, Sunny, or mine.Over-immersion in radiant fluid produces curious effects on skin and muscle, but it saved the lives of me and the ship's brawn.They say that we'll look human again soon, but I've my doubts.Brendan and Boira found us.That pair refused to give up.Praise be to Muhlah!We're all safe, though the courier ship'll need a new shell-no, that's wrong way round-the shell person will need a new ship; hers got Singularly twisted."

She didn't care what he looked like: he sounded like himself and that was what counted."But you're alive!"

"I repeat, I am alive!I even survived the Singularity Jump we just made."His voice quavered briefly."Had to, according to Boira.And I suppose I'll have to again, but not soon!Not soon!"He sighed gustily.

"Where are you?"

He chuckled again, teasing her."Estimated time of arrival at Shankill Base is four hours!"

"Four hours!"She was shrieking again.How could she wait that long to set eyes on him!To hold him to her, to feel his arms about her."Oh, Lars love…"

"What did you call me, Sunny?"And his voice was tender with surprise.

She swallowed."I called you 'Lars love'," she said almost defiantly.

"D'you know," he said, and his laugh was tentative, "you've never called me 'love' before."

"I'll remember to call you that every other breath-Lars love.I've had a lot of time to remember things, while you've been-away."Her voice broke slightly, and she hastily cleared her throat."I remember all the love you've given me," she went on, determined to say what had become so imperative he know."I've remembered so much, Lars love, especially that I have always been in love with you, in spite of the way I treated you!"

"It's almost worth nearly dying to hear you say that, Killashandra Ree."He sounded stronger now, almost exultant!

"I'll remember that, love.I'll remember that, too.

The moment she disengaged the channel, Killashandra Ree left the office to meet Lars Dahl at Shankill Moon Base.Exit, triumphant, stage center.