Killashandra (22 page)

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, integreity, 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 especial 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 symphathize 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 roiling 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.