Killashandra Part 4

"Why, so am I!" She raised her beer in token of a hand clasp.

"Killashandra Ree of Fuerte. I'm -- I'm a music student."

"The Summer Festival." Then a puzzled expression crossed Corish's face. "But they have a Fuertan brew -- "

"Oh, that old stuff. I might have to travel off-season and economy to get to Optheria but I'm certainly not going to waste the opportunities of trying everything new on the Athena."

Corish smiled urbanely. "Is this your first interstellar trip?"

"Oh, yes. But I know a lot about traveling. My brother is a supercargo. On the Blue Swan Delta. And when Mother told him that I was making the voyage, he sent me all kinds of advice" -- and Killashandra managed a tinkling giggle -- "and warnings."

Corish smiled perfunctorily. "Don't ignore that sort of advice.

Fuerte, huh? That's a long way to come."

"I think I've spent half my life traveling already," Killashandra said expansively while she tried to compute how long she ought to have been traveling if her port of embarkation had been Fuerte. She hadn't done enough homework. Though she couldn't imagine that Corish would know if she erred. She took a long sip of her beer. "This is a Bellemere, but it's too sour for me."

"The best beer in the galaxy is a Yarran brew."

"Yarran?" She regarded Corish with keener interest. If Corish came from Beta Jungische, he was a long way from a regular supply of Yarran beer. Killashandra's curiosity rustled awake.

"The Yarran brewmasters have no peers. Surely your brother has mentioned Yarran beer?"

"Well, now. it's possible that he has," Killashandra said slowly, as if searching her memory. "But then, he told me so much that I can't remember half." She was about to giggle again and then decided that, not only did her giggle nauseate herself but it might repel Corish and she wanted to satisfy this flicker of curiosity about him. "Why are you traveling to Optheria?"

"Family business, sort of. An uncle of mine went for a visit and decided to become a citizen. We need his signature on some family papers.

We've written several times and had no reply. Now. he could be dead but I have to have the proper certification if he is, and his print and fist on the doc.u.ments if he isn't."

"And you have to come all the way from Beta Jungische for that?"

"Well, there's a lot of credit involved and this isn't a bad way to go." He enscribed a half circle with his beaker, including the ship as well as the dancers, and smiled at Killashandra over the rim as he sipped. "This Pilsner's not all that bad, really. What have you there?"

She went along with Corish's adroit change of subject and with the beer sampling. Although singing crystal brought with it an inexhaustible ability to metabolize alcohol without noticeable affect, she feigned the symptoms of intoxication as she confided her fake history to the Jungian, whenever necessary embellishing her actual experiences at the Arts Complex.

Thus Corish learned that she was a keyboard specialist, in her final year of training, with high hopes that the Optherian Festival would provide her with sufficient data for an honors recommendation. She had credentials of sufficiently high caliber to gain entrance into the Federal Music Conservatory on Optheria where she hoped she'd be allowed to play on an Optherian organ.

"An hour is all I need," she told Corish, blinking in her simulation of advancing inebriation, "for the purposes of my dissertation."

"From what I hear about their precious organ, you'd be lucky to get within spitting distance."

"Even half an hour."

"I hear that only Federal licensed musicians are allowed in the organ loft."

"Well, they'll have to make an exception in my case because I have a special letter from Fuerte's President -- he's a friend of my family's.

And a sealed note from Stellar Performer Dalkay Mogorog . . ." She paused deferentially at the mention of that august personality, who was evidently unknown to Corish, "and I'm sure they'll concede. Even fifteen minutes?"

she asked as Corish continued to shake his head. "Well, they'll just have to! I haven't come all this way to be refused. I'm a serious student of keyboard instruments. I won a scholarship to the Federated Sentient Planets Conservatory on Terra. I've been permitted to play on a Moartian clavier, a Handelian spinet, Purcell's harpsichord, a Bach organ, and a Beethoven pianaforte and -- " She hiccuped to mask the fact that she was running out of prestigious composers and instruments.

"So? Which beer do you prefer now?"

"Huh?"

Corish solicitously conducted her to her cabin and arranged her on her bunk. As he drew a light blanket over her, she felt the static leap from her shoulder to his hands. He hesitated briefly, then quietly left.

As Killashandra gave him time to leave her pa.s.sage-way, she reviewed her "performance" and decided that she hadn't dropped from character, even if he had. It was rather nice of him, too, not to have "taken advantage" of her. When she felt secure, she slipped from her cabin and down to the gymnasium level. At that hour, it was empty and she enjoyed an hour's luxuriating in the radiant fluid.

They met the next morning at the breakfast hour, Corish solicitously inquiring after her health.

"Did I fall asleep on you?" she asked with wide-eyed dismay.

"Not at all. I just saw to it that you were safely in your own cabin before you did."

Critically, she held her hands out in front of her. "Wel1, at least, they're steady enough to practice."

"You're going to practice?"

"I practice every day."

"May I listen""

"Well . . . it can be quite boring-I have to spend at least an hour on the preliminary finger exercises and scales before I can do any interesting music . . ."

"If I'm bored, I'll leave."

As she led the way to the practice rooms, she wondered if she had slipped up in her characterization. Why else should he be curious enough to want to listen to her practice?

Killashandra was rather chuffed to discover that the old drills came easily to her fingers as she addressed the keyboard with every semblance of true authority. Corish departed after fifteen minutes but she left nothing to chance and played on, making remarkably few errors for someone who had not played in three years.

As she had established her credentials with him, he continued to project the image of an amiable young man on a journey to protect family interests. He sought her out at mealtimes, helped her evade the organizers of team sports, directed her investigations of the caterer's potential with the amused tolerance of the mature traveler, and accompanied her to shipboard activities. On one or two occasions, she had the urge to shock him with her true ident.i.ty just to see how he might react, but she repressed that whimsy.

Then, after a particularly bibulous evening, when she had taken an extra long radiant bath. she encountered him in the gymnasium. He was sweating profusely, working out against a hefty weight on the apparatus with apparent ease. Stripped as he was for the exercise, Killashandra could appreciate that Corish's lean frame was suspiciously well muscled and fine tuned for his public image.

"I didn't know you were a gymnast!"

"It's only smart to keep fit, Killashandra Ree." He whipped a towel about his shoulders and mopped his face. "Where've you been?"

Killashandra managed a blush of embarra.s.sment, dropping her eyes and affecting mortification " I tried that radiant stuff. In the tank, " and she pointed vaguely in the right direction. "That blonde girl from Kachachurian was saying that it was good for hang-overs!" She kicked at the apparatus base with her toe, eyes still downcast.

"Well, is it?"

"I think it is." She allowed some doubt in her tone. "At least that awful spinning has stopped . . . and the nausea!" She put one hand to her head and the other to her stomach. "I think I may have to go back to Fuertan beer. I could always drink as much of that as I wanted. Or is it something to do with traveling in s.p.a.ce? My brother did say something about that . . ." She looked up at Corish. "Isn't this a funny time to be working out?"

"That's how I work alcohol out of my system," Corish said, pulling on his shirt. "I'll see you back to your cabin. You really shouldn't be wandering about the ship at this hour. Someone might get the wrong impression about you."

As Killashandra permitted him to escort her back, she wondered why he was rushing her out of the gym. She felt she had deftly accounted for her presence. And naively accepted his explanation. Safely returned to her cabin, she agreed to meet him as usual for breakfast the next morning, and dutifully went to bed.

Waiting for sleep, she reflected on his extraordinary fitness and the stealth in which he kept it. Could Corish possibly be an FSP agent? It struck her as unlikely that the Federation would choose to send only one observer -- an inexperienced one at that -- into a planetary society that was being investigated. She chuckled to think that, out of the eighteen hundred pa.s.sengers and crew on the Athena, Corish should attach himself to her. Of course, in her eager-student guise, she might const.i.tute an integral part of his shipboard cover. Unless he had been advised of her extra a.s.signment by his superiors. If he was a Federal agent, he would also know the capabilities of crystal singers, and the subtler ways to identify them.

No matter! In her concentrated efforts to recall her days as an impecunious and ardent music student, she had been able to shelve the more recent, painful episode. Seriously now, Killashandra considered Antona's advice to record incidents in detail. Who knew when she might find it necessary to adopt the role of the student again?

Chapter 4.

As the Athena plunged toward the Optherian primary for the deflected hyperbolic pa.s.s that would bring it close to the one inhabited planet of the system. the pa.s.sengers who were disembarking went through the rituals of leave-taking from their shipboard acquaintances. That strange magic of voyaging which could make total strangers into confidantes and lovers had lost none of its potency in the s.p.a.ce age.

As they waited in the airlock for the shuttle that would take them to the surface, Killashandra found herself prattling on at Corish about how they must meet and share their adventures: that they couldn't part and never meet again while they were on the same planet. She'd want to know how he'd made out with his uncle and she hoped she'd be able to tell him of her success, invading the Optherian musical hierarchy. Of course that sort of chatter was in character with her role. What astonished Killashandra was that she meant what she said.

"That's very sweet of you, Killa," Corish replied, patting her shoulder in a condescending fashion that returned her instantly to her own personality.

"If I don't get a place at the Music Center hostel, I'll go to the Piper Facility," she said, ducking away from his hand as she fumbled with the fastening on the side pocket of her carisak. She tendered the small plastic card distributed by the Facility with its communit codes. "The Optherian Traveler's Guide says they'll take messages for visitors. You could leave word for me there." She smiled up at him with tremulous wistfulness. "I know that once we leave Optheria, we'll never meet again, Corish, but at least while we're still on the same planet, I was hoping we could stay friends." She broke off, ducking her head and dabbing at her eyes which, on cue, had filled with moisture. She let him have just a confirming glimpse of her teary face, although why she was prolonging their a.s.sociation, she hadn't a notion. One can get too wrapped up in role-playing.

"I promise you, Killa, that I'll leave word at the Piper for you."

And Corish put a finger under her chin and lifted her head to his gaze. He had a rather engaging half-smile, she thought, though it wasn't a patch on Lanzecki's. She managed to squeeze out a few more tears on the strength of that comparison. "No need for tears, Killa."

Just then the shuttle clanged against the Athena's side and conversation became impossible with the noise of lock engagement and the excited crescendo of farewells. Then crewmen were officiously directing pa.s.sengers to move to the port side of the lock. Killashandra was crammed rather tightly between two large men and separated from Corish by another sideways push.

"What's the delay?" one of her cushions demanded.

"They're loading some crates," was the indignant reply. "Must be something special. There're seals and impregtape all over them."

"I shall complain to the Cruise Agent. I was under the impression that people got preference over commodities on this Line!"

As suddenly as it had begun, the press eased off and everyone was shuffling toward the ramp into the shuttle. Killashandra didn't see Corish among the pa.s.sengers already seated but she couldn't fail to miss three large foam boxes that contained the white crystal, for they occupied the first three rows of seats on the shuttle's starboard side.

"They must be immensely valuable," the first cushion-man said.

"Whatever could it be? Optherians don't import much."

"Too right," his companion said in an aggrieved tone. "Why those are Hept.i.te Guild seals."

The shuttle attendant had taken complete control of seating arrangements, peremptorily filling the rows as he backed down the main aisle. He gestured Killashandra to an inside seat and the two cushions obediently settled in the next two. She caught a brief glimpse of Corish as he pa.s.sed, but he was a.s.signed a seat on the other side of the aisle.

"Not wasting any time, are they?" the first man said.

"Have none to waste in a parabolic orbit," his friend replied.

"There mustn't have been any outgoing pa.s.sengers."

"Probably not. Optherians don't leave their planet and the tourist season hasn't really started."

A rather ominous rumbling, issuing from the floor plates, startled them. This was quickly followed by additional metallic complaints, causing further vibrations under their feet.

Two distinct thuds signaled the closing of the cargo bays. Then Killashandra felt the air compress as the main pa.s.senger lock was shut and secured. Through the skin of the hull beside her, she heard the snick of the grapple release so she was prepared for the stomach-wrenching motion of the shuttle's falling away from the Athena. Her seatmates were not and gasped in reaction, clutching the arm rests as the shuttle's engines took hold and pushed the pa.s.sengers into the foam of their seats.

The transfer from liner to planetary surface was a relatively short run, though Killashandra's seatmates complained bitterly about the discomfort and duration all the way down. Killashandra accounted the landing smooth but the two cushions found fault with that as well, so she was immensely grateful when the port opened again, flooding the shuttle with the crisp clean cool air of Optheria. She inhaled deeply, clearing her lungs of the Athena's recycled air. For all the craft's modern amenities, it had not quite solved the age-old problem of refreshing air without the taint of deodorizers.

No sooner had the first pa.s.sengers filed into the arrival area than the public address system began a recorded announcement, scrolling through the same message in all major Federated Planets languages Pa.s.sengers were requested to have travel doc.u.ments ready for inspection by Port Authorities. Please to form a line in the appropriately marked alphabetic or numeric queues. Aliens requiring special life support systems or supplies would please contact a uniformed attendant. Visitors with health problems were to present themselves, immediately after Clearance, to the Port Authority Medical Officer. It was the hope of the Tourist Bureau of Optheria that all visitors would thoroughly enjoy their holiday on the planet.

Killashandra was relieved to see that she would be able to present her I.D. in some privacy, for the Inspectors presided in security booths.

Those waiting their turn in the queue could not observe the process. She kept glancing to the far right of the line where Corish should be waiting but he was not immediately visible. She caught sight of him just as it was her turn to approach the Inspector.

Killashandra suppressed a malicious grin as she slid her arm and its I.D. bracelet under the visiplate. The blank expression of the Inspector's square face underwent a remarkable change at the sight of the Hept.i.te Seal on his screen. With one hand he pressed a red b.u.t.ton on the terminal in front of him and with the other urgently beckoned her to proceed. Quitting the booth, he insisted on relieving her of her carisak.

"Please, no fuss," Killashandra said.

"Gracious Guildmember," the Inspector began effusively, "we have been so concerned. The cabin reserved for you on the Athena -- "

"I traveled economy."

"But you're a Hept.i.te Guildmember!"

"There are times, Inspector," Killashandra said, bending close to him and touching his arm, "when discretion requires that one travel incognito." The hair stood up on the back of his hand. She sighed.

"Oh, I see." And clearly he did not. He unconsciously smoothed the hair back down.

They had walked the short distance to the next portal, which slid apart to reveal a welcoming committee of four, three men and a woman, slightly breathless. "The Guildmember has arrived!" The Inspector's triumphant announcement left the distinct impression that he himself had somehow conjured her appearance.

Killashandra stared apprehensively at them. They had a disconcerting resemblance to each other, not only a sameness of height and build but of coloring and feature. Even their voices were pitched in the same sonorous timber. She blinked, thinking it might be some trick of the soft yellow sunshine pouring in from the main reception area. Then she gave herself a little shake: all were government employees, but could any bureaucracy, Optherian or other, hire people on the basis of their uniform appearance?

"Welcome to Optheria, Guildmember Ree," the Inspector said, beaming as he ushered her past the portal, which whispered shut behind them.

"Welcome, Killashandra Ree, I am Thyrol," the first and oldest man said, taking one step toward her and bowing.

"Welcome, Killashandra Ree, I am Pirinio," said the second, following the example of the first.

In unvarying ceremony, Polabod and Mirbethan made themselves known to her. Had they practiced long?

"I am truly welcomed," she said with a gracious semibow. "The crystal? It was aboard the shuttle."

All four looked to her right, left hands rising from their sides at the same instant, to indicate the float appearing through a second portal.

Nullgravs suspended float and cartons above the gold-flecked marble floor but proper guidance apparently required six attendants, each wearing an anxious frown of concentration. A seventh man directed their efforts, dancing from one side to the other to be certain that nothing impeded their progress. These citizens of Optheria were rea.s.suringly mismatched in size, form, and feature.

"We four," Thyrol began, indicating his companions with a twist of his hand, "are to be your guides and mentors during your stay on Optheria.