Killashandra

Chapter 13

A startled expression crossed Nahia’s perfect features at Lars’s obeisance. She shot a quick look at Killashandra, managing to convey her embarrassment even as she tried to lift Lars from his knee.

“My friend, this will not do,” she said kindly, but firmly. “Only think what effect such a gesture could have on an Elder or a Master – and yes, I do most certainly know your opinion of those worthies. But Lars, such histrionics could damage our goal.”

Lars had by now risen to his feet. With a final few pats to his hand, an oblique apology for her public admonition, she withdrew from his grasp, moving past him toward Killashandra. “Whom have you brought with you, Lars?” she asked, smiling tentatively as she extended her slender hand to Killashandra. “Who wears your garland?”

“Carrigana, lately a polly planter,” Lars replied, stepping back to Killashandra’s side and taking her other hand firmly in his.

It was one way of apologizing for his effusive welcome of another woman but it was Nahia herself who effectively dissolved Killashandra’s incipient hostility. The touch of her hand had a soothing effect, not a shock or a jar, but a gentle insinuation of reassurance. Nahia’s eyes were troubled as she regarded Killashandra, her lips curving upward in a slight smile which blossomed as she felt Killashandra’s resistance to her dissipate. Then a little frown gathered at her brows as she became aware of the lingering crystal resonance within Killashandra. It was the crystal singer’s turn to smile reassurance and an acknowledgement of what Nahia was: an empath.

Killashandra had heard of such people but she had never encountered one. The encyclopedia had not hinted the psi talents were an Optherian quality. It could be a wild talent and often was. In Nahia it was combined with unexpected beauty, integrity, and an honesty which few citizens of the Federated Sentient Worlds could project without endangering their sanity. Lars had been correct in his statement that Nahia’s special talents would be a galactic asset. She was Goodness personified.

Nahia looked with gentle inquiry at Killashandra, struggling to identify the elusive contact with crystal. Killashandra smiled and, with a final light pressure on Nahia’s fine-boned hand, released her and leaned slightly against Lars.

At this point, the other men stepped forward to greet the newcomers.

“I’m Hauness, Nahia’s escort,” said the tallest of the three, an attractive man whom Killashandra judged to be in his mid-thirties. His handclasp was strong but not crushing and he, too, exuded a charm and personality that would have been instantly apparent in any group – at least any group that did not contain Nahia. Or Lars. “Believe me, Lars, we had no report of such rough weather when we embarked on this journey but – ”

“There are matters we must discuss with you, no matter what the risk.” Erutown was the oldest, and bluntest. His manner suggested that he tended to be a humorless pessimist. He gave Killashandra’s hand one brief shake and dropped it. “And there was no risk – in the weather – when we started.” He hovered, his upper body inclined away from Killashandra even as his feet shifted, as if he wanted to separate Lars from Killashandra and plunge into the “matters to be discussed” as quickly as possible.

“Theach,” said the third man, giving Killashandra a brief, self-effacing nod.

He was the sort of nondescript human being, mild mannered, with undistinguished features, who can be encountered almost anywhere in the human population, and promptly forgotten. Only because she had heard of his mathematical abilities from Lars did Killashandra give Theach any sort of an inspection and thus noticed that his eyes were brilliant with intelligence: that he had already assumed she would discount him, indeed, hoped that she would, and was quite willing to accept the sort of dismissal to which he was clearly accustomed.

So Killashandra gave him a saucy wink. She half expected Theach to retreat in confusion as many shy men would, but, smiling, he winked back at her.

Erutown cleared his throat, indicating that now introductions had been made, he wanted to initiate the discussions they had come for.

“I don’t know about you, Lars, but I’m starving,” Killashandra said, gesturing toward the catering area. “Is it all right to see what’s available?” She turned to the others. “May I fix something for you?”

Lars gave her hand a grateful squeeze before he released it. He told her to find what she fancied and he’d have the same but the others demurred, gesturing toward the low table where the remains of a meal could be seen.

The four conspirators didn’t know that Killashandra’s symbiont-adapted hearing was uncommonly acute. At that distance they could have whispered and she would have caught what was being said.

“They finally sent the message two days ago, Lars.” Erutown’s baritone was audible above the noises Killashandra was making in the catering unit.

“Took them long enough,” Lars said in a low growl.

“They had to search first. And search they did, uncovering a variety of minor crimes and infringements which, of course slowed them down.” Hauness was amused.

“Any one of us caught?”

“Not a one of us,” Hauness replied.

“Cleansed us of some very stupid people,” Erutown said.

“She is safe, isn’t she, Lars?” Nahia asked in gentle anxiety, a graceful gesture of her hand indicating the darkening southern horizon.

“She should be. All she needs is enough sense to climb the polly tree.”

You ought to have contacted us before you acted so impulsively, Lars.”

“How could he, Erutown?” Nahia was conciliatory. Then she gave a little chuckle. “Impulsive but it has proved such an extremely effective gambit. The Elders have been forced to reapply to the Heptite Guild.”

“They haven’t admitted that the crystal singer has been abducted?”

“As no one has confessed to committing such a heinous crime, how could they?” Hauness asked reasonably, his voice rippling with amusement. “Elder Torkes has been hinting dark words about that islander assault – ”

Lars let out a burst of sour laughter for which Erutown growled a warning, looking over his shoulder at Killashandra who was well out of sight in the catering area.

“What you don’t know, Lars,” Hauness went on, “is that the crystal singer had had an altercation with Security Leader Blaz and stalked out of the installation before any repair had been accomplished.

Lars emitted a low whistle of delighted surprise. “Is that why she was wandering about Gartertown? I had wondered!”

“Erutown may not approve, and some of the others were appalled at your action, Lars, but there is no doubt,” and Hauness overrode Erutown’s disapproving murmurs, “that the action will require embarrassing inquiries when the second crystal singer arrives.”

“As long as it also requires an appeal to the Council,” Lars said. “Now what else brought you here so unexpectedly?”

“As I said, the search for the crystal singer exposed some unsuspected flaws in our organization. Theach and Erutown must ruralize. Have you another suitable island?”

Lars paused, staring at Hauness, and then the others. Erutown scowled and looked away but Theach regarded him with a smile.

“Some of my scribblings were discovered, and as I am already under threat of rehabilitation . . .” Theach shrugged eloquently.

When Lars looked to Erutown for an explanation, the man did not meet his gaze.

“Erutown was denounced as a recruiter,” Hauness said. “Not his fault.”

“It was, if I was daft enough to recruit such soft-bellied cowards!”

Lars grinned. “Well, I could put you ashore with the crystal singer.” Something increased his mirth out of proportion to the joke, though Hauness grinned and Nahia tried to control unseemly mirth at Erutown’s expense. “The island’s big enough and she might even be grateful for company.”

“I would be easier in mind about her safety if Erutown and Theach were there,” Nahia said. “The hurricane will have frightened her badly.”

“I don’t like the idea,” Erutown said.

“Actually, if she thinks you’ve also been kidnapped . . .” Hauness suggested, then gestured to dismiss his notion at Erutown’s negative response.

“I wouldn’t object,” Theach said. “One doesn’t know much about crystal singers, except that they heal quickly and indulge in an unusual profession.”

“You?” Erutown snorted contemptuously. “You’d probably drown yourself thinking up more theories.”

“When I initiate a session of theoretical thinking, I take the precaution of seating myself in some secure and secluded spot,” Theach said in amiable reprimand. “An island would suit me very well indeed.”

“You’d starve!”

“No one can starve on a polly island.” Theach turned for confirmation to Lars, who nodded.

“You have to work at it, though,” Lars amended. “For at least a few hours every day.”

“Despite a misapprehension current about my absent-mindedness, I have found that intense thought stimulates an incredible appetite. Since eating replenishes both body and the mechanics of thought, I do pause now and again in my meditations to eat! If I have to gather the food myself, I shall also have had that beneficial exercise. Yes, Lars,” and Theach smiled at the islander, “I begin to think that an island residence would provide me with all I require: seclusion, sustenance, and sanctuary!” He sat back in the chair, beaming at his circle of friends.

“How many know you and Erutown are in the islands?” Lars asked seriously.

“Nahia has been working very hard lately, Lars,” Hauness said. “She was granted a leave of absence: I took my annual holiday and announced our intention of cruising the coast. There are friends who will vouch for our presence in mainland waters. Besides, who would expect us to brave a hurricane?”

“We boarded the jet from the seaside without being seen the night before she sailed,” Erutown added. “What Elder would suspect Nahia’s involvement with renegades?”

“If they had any sense whatever,” Nahia said in a crisp tone that surprised Killashandra with its suppressed anger, “how could they fail to realize that I sympathize deeply with repressions, frustrations, and despairs which I cannot avoid feeling! With injustices not all the empathy in the world will ease.”

A moment of silence followed.

“Is your woman to be trusted with any of this, Lars?” Hauness asked quietly.

Suppressing a flare of guilt at her duplicity, Killashandra decided that it was time to join the group before Lars perjured himself.

“Here, this should satisfy, Lars,” she said, approaching the others with a purposeful stride. She set before him a generous plate of sandwiches and hot tidbits which she had found in the food storage. “You’re sure I can’t get anything for you?” she asked the others as she began to gather up the used plates and cups.

Erutown gave her a sour glance, then turned to watch the rolling cloud formations of the approaching storm. Theach smiled absently, Hauness shook his head and settled back next to Nahia who had leaned back in the couch, eyes closed, her beautiful face relaxed.

When Killashandra returned with her own serving, Lars and Hauness were absorbed by the satellite picture of the approaching hurricane, displayed on the vdr. It would be a substantial blow, Killashandra had to admit, but not a patch on what Ballybran could brew.

Storm watching could be mesmerizing, certainly engrossing. Theach was the first to break from the fascination. He reseated himself at a small terminal and began to call up equations on the tiny screen. There was a tension to the line of his back, the occasional rattle of the keys that proved he was still conscious, but there were long intervals of total silence from his corner during the next few hours.

“It’s not going to be a long one at its current rate,” Lars remarked when he had finished eating. “The eye’ll be on us by night.”

“Is it likely to make the mainland?”

“No. That is, after all, eight thousand kilos off. It’ll blow itself out over the ocean as usual. You only get our storms when they make up in the Broad, not from this far south.”

So, Killashandra thought, she was in the southern hemisphere of Optheria, which explained the switch in seasons. And it explained why this group felt themselves secure from Mainland intervention and searches. Even with the primitive jet vehicles, an enormous distance could be traversed in a relatively short time.

It struck Killashandra that if Nahia, Hauness, and the others could travel so far, so could the Elders, especially if they wanted to implicate islanders. Or was that just talk? If, as Lars had admitted, Torkes had set him up to assault her in order to verify her identity and was using that assault now to implicate the islanders, would it not be logical to assume that some foray into the islands would be made by officialdom? If only to preserve their fiction?

Killashandra closed her mouth on this theory for she had gleaned it from information she had overhead surreptitiously. Well, she’d find a way to warn Lars, for she had a sudden premonition that a warning was in order. From what she had seen of the Elders, reapplying to the Guild would be a humiliating embarrassment to their sort of bureaucracy. Unless – and Killashandra smiled to herself – they took the line that Killashandra Ree had not arrived as scheduled. How tidy it could be made, the Elders able to suppress any reference to the reception in her honor. However, Lanzecki would know that she had gone, and know, too, that she would not have evaded the responsibility she had accepted. And there would be computer evidence of her arrival – even the Elders would have a hard time suppressing that sort of trail mark. Not to mention her use of the credit outlet on Angel. This could be very interesting!

She must have dozed off, for the couch had been comfortable, the day’s unusual exercise exhausting, and watching the weather screen soporific. It was the lack of storm noise that woke her. And a curious singing in her body which was her symbiont’s reaction to drastic weather changes. A quick glance at the screen showed her that the eye of the storm was presently over Angel Island. She rubbed at her arms and legs, sure that the vibration she felt might be discernible. However, Nahia had curled up on the end of the long couch, Hauness, one arm across her shoulders, was also asleep, head back against the cushions. Theach was still diddling, but Erutown and Lars were absent.

She heard voices and steps on the circular stair and made a dash for the toilet. She distinguished Lars’s distinctive laugh, a bass rumble from his father, and a grunt that could be Erutown, and some other voices. Until the eye had passed and the symbiont had quieted, Killashandra wanted to avoid everyone, especially Lars.

“Carrigana?” Lars called. Then she heard him approach the toilet and rap on the door. “Carrigana? Would you mind fixing some hungry storm watchers more of those excellent sandwiches?”

Under ordinary circumstances, Killashandra would have had a tart rejoinder but catering would solve the more immediate problem.

“Just a moment.” She splashed water on her face, smoothed back her hair, and regarded the blossoms about her neck. Strangely enough they were not dead, their petals were still fresh despite the creasing. Their fragrance scented her fingers as she opened the crushed flowers and spread them back into their original shapes.

When she opened the door, Nahia and Hauness were making their way toward the catering area.

“They only want to talk weather,” Nahia said with a smile. “We’ll help you.”

The others did talk weather, but on the comunits to other islands, checking on storm damages and injuries, finding out what supplies would be required, and which island could best supply the needs. The three caterers served soup, a basic stew, and high-protein biscuits. In the company of Nahia and Hauness, the work was more pleasant than Killashandra would have believed. She had never met their likes before and realized that she probably never would again.

The respite at the storm’s eye was all too brief, and soon the hurricane was more frightening in its renewed violence. Though it was a zephyr in comparison to Ballybran turbulence, Killashandra rated it a respectable storm, and slept through the rest of it.

A touch on her shoulder woke her, a light touch that was then repeated and her shoulder held in a brief clasp. That was enough to bring Killashandra to full awareness and she looked up at Nahia’s perplexed expression. Killashandra smiled reassuringly, attempting to pass off the storm resonance still coursing through her body. As Lars was draped against her, she moved cautiously to a sitting position and took the steaming cup from Nahia with quiet thanks. Killashandra wondered how the man had been able to sleep with her body buzzing.

Other storm watchers had disposed themselves for sleep about the room. Outside a hard rain was falling and a stout wind agitated the rain forest but the blow had become a shadow of its hurricane strength.

“We had orders to wake people as soon as the wind died to force five,” Nahia said and extended a second hot cup to Killashandra for Lars.

“Has there been much damage? Many injuries?”

“Sufficient. The hurricane was unseasonably early and caught some communities unprepared. Olav is preparing emergency schedules for us.”

“Us?” Killashandra stared at Nahia in surprise. “Surely you’re not going to risk being seen and identified here?”

“These are my own people, Carrigana. I am safest in the islands.” Serenely confident, the beauty returned to the catering area.

Lars had awakened during that brief interchange although he hadn’t changed his position. His very blue eyes were watching her closely, no expression gave her a hint of his mood. Lazily he caressed her leg. Gradually his lips began to curve in a smile. What he might have said, what thoughts he held behind those keen eyes he did not share with her. Then he touched the garland she still wore, carefully unfolding a crushed petal. “Will you be crew for me? We won’t have much time together southbound. Tanny, Theach, and Erutown sail with us, and we’ll be dropping off supplies here and there . . .”

“Of course I’ll come,” Killashandra said eagerly. She wouldn’t miss the trip for the world. Only . . . how would Lars take her deception? Would she lose him? Well, she didn’t have to admit that she was the crystal singer they had incarcerated on the island!

The winds out of the Back Harbor were brisk enough to be dangerous, but the well laden Pearl settled down to her task like the splendid craft she was. Erutown was the nonsailor among them and took to a bunk in the forward cabin until the motion sickness medication had taken effect. Theach had appropriated the small terminal, smiling with absentminded good humor at his shipmates, before he resumed his programming.

Now that Tanny was on his way, he was as cheerful a companion as one could wish. Nor was he impatient with Killashandra as a crewmember. They had set sail once the winds had dropped to force three, one of the first of the larger sailing vessels to leave haven. Others were being loaded and crewed for their relief voyages. After the enforced idleness of the storm, it was good to be physically active. Killashandra didn’t mind the wet weather nor the tussle with wind as she and Tanny made periodic checks of the deck cargo.

Fresh water and food were unloaded at the first stop, and some emergency medical supplies. The Pearl had carefully motored past the debris floating in the small harbor: roofs, the sides of dwellings, innumerable polly trees, fruit bobbing about like so many bald heads. That sight had startled Killashandra and she had nearly exposed her ignorance of island phenomena to Tanny. The inhabitants had taken refuge on the one highland of the island, but they were already hauling salvageables from the high tide mark and the water. They cheered the arrival of the Pearl, some wading out to float the water-tight supplies in to shore. The exchange was completed in the time it took the Pearl to turn about and head back to the open sea.

And that was the routine at a half-dozen smaller islands. Killashandra had had a long look at the charts and the compass; they were taking a long arcing route, “her” island being the farthest point of their journey to the southwest.

The waters were studded with islands, large, small, and medium. All showed the devastation of the storm, and on most the polly trees were still bent over from their struggle with the hurricane: on some of the smaller islands, the trees had been uprooted. As no one made a comment on this waste, Killashandra could not ask how soon polly would reestablish itself.

In answer to a faint emergency call, they eventually sailed into the harbor of a medium-size island that had lost its communications masts and had been unable to make contact with Angel. Lars and Tanny went ashore there, leaving Killashandra in conspicuous sight while Erutown and Theach remained below. Some of the urgently needed items could be supplied from the extras on board and Lars contacted Angel for the rest.

As they finally lifted anchor and sailed onward, Tanny’s rising excitement was communicated to Killashandra. She could recognize nothing, but if they were indeed near the island of her incarceration, she had swum away from nearby help. As they approached the next landfall, she didn’t need Tanny’s shout of relief to know they had reached “her” island; the huge polly tree in the center was a distinctive landmark. Not only had the tree survived but also its siblings or offspring, and the little hut she had made in their shelter. Lars has to restrain Tanny from diving into the breakers and swimming ashore in his eagerness to reassure himself.

“I don’t see anyone!” Tanny cried as the Pearl motored toward the beach. “Surely she could hear the engine!”

“Is this where you want to dump us?” Erutown growled, surveying the uprooted polly, the wind-depressed trunks of more, and the storm debris on the once white sands.

“Oh, you’ll be luxuriously situated, I assure you.” Lars said. Killashandra had decided that Lars and Erutown were in basic disagreement on too many counts. Lars was delighted to deposit the man out of the way for a while. “We’ve solar-power units for Theach’s equipment, all sorts of emergency camp gear, and plenty of food should you tire of the stuff the island and the sea provide.”

“And a hatchet, a knife, and a book of instructions?” Killashandra asked she was not above priming her surprise.

“There speaks the polly planter.” Grinning, Lars flipped the toggle to release the anchor, cut off the engine, and gestured Tanny overboard. He was halfway up the heights to the shelter before the others had made the beach.

“There’s no one here, Lars. Ye gods, what shall we do? There’s no one here!” Tanny screamed.

Consternation smoothed Lars’s features and he set off up the slope at speed. Killashandra followed at a more leisurely pace, wondering whether she would ease their fears. One look at the terror and hopelessness of Tanny’s face, and a second one at the shock on Lars’s eroded her need for revenge. Erutown and Theach were on the beach, out of hearing.

“You don’t know very much about crystal singers, do you, Lars . . .”

He swung around, stared at her, trying to assimilate her words. Tanny reached his conclusion first and sat heavily down among the storm-strewn polly fronds, his expression incredulous.

“ . . . If you thought I’d just sit here until it suited you to retrieve me.”