Crystal Universe - [Crystal Singer 03] - Crystal Line (27 page)

Killashandra stiffened, regretting her impulse, pulling herself free. “I don’t
need
to remember everything, Lars. I don’t
want
to remember everything. Get that straight now.”

“Honey, all I’m asking is landmarks for the black-crystal sites you’ve cut. I’ve remembered only two, and I know there were more. I have
got
to have black crystal!” And he pounded his fist into the plas above the control panel with such force that it left a dent.

She reached for his hand, to prevent him from repeating the blow. Immediately he covered her hand with both of his.

“If we could only”—and his voice was low now, his frustration vented—“get singers to note down landmarks so they can get themselves back to the best sites …”

Killa gave a snort, not as derisive as she might have
been because she was not going to exacerbate Lars’s despair. “Now that’s asking a lot, love,” she said wryly. “You know how paranoid singers are. Put something down that another singer could find and locate?” She shook her head. “Not to mention roping singers back to Ballybran before they absolutely have to return.”

Lars looked deeply into her eyes. “That’s why your cooperation is so vital, Sunny. You’re senior among the working singers. If
you
can be seen to accede to executive orders,” he said with a bitter smile, “the others will accept them. Especially if you start bringing in more crystal, better crystal, because you know
exactly
how to get back to workable sites.”

“I’ve already cut more crystal than any other singer …”

“You have that enviable reputation, Sunny,” he said with a hint of his customary ebullience.

“So how does this regression process work?”

He straightened up, his eyes losing their grimness. “Under hypnosis. Donalla’s become expert. She found the coordinates I needed to access one of our old claims the last time I went out.”

“You—by yourself?” The notion that he had risked himself like that made her choke with fear.

“As Guild Master, I had to set the example, despite my partner’s illness. I can’t ask singers to do what I won’t do myself, you know.”

“And you talk about capricious singers!”

“Don’t shout, Killa. I cut, I got back, and at least filled another order.”

“Order?
Order!
” She was indignant.

“An order that’s been unfilled for twenty years, Killa! It’s no wonder the Guild’s reputation has been suffering. I’ve finally got permission to inaugurate a more active recruitment campaign, but it’s experienced singers
I need and right now—and out in the Ranges, not carousing on Maxim’s or Baliol and spread out across the galaxy.”

The bleak expression of a man who was not given to desperation, the flat, despairing edge to a voice that had always been rich with humor and optimism, moved her more deeply than she had been moved at any other moment in a basically egocentric and selfish life. She owed Lars Dahl, and now was the time to repay him in the only coin that mattered.

“So, let’s get back to the Cube and let Donalla beguile me, or whatever it is she needs to do.”

“Regress your memory.”

“I can’t, and that’s that,” Donalla said, swinging her stool around and projecting herself off it. She paced angrily about the room. “You don’t trust me, Killa. It’s as simple as that. Until you
can
trust me, hypnosis can’t happen.”

“But I
do
trust you, Donalla,” Killa insisted, as she had over the past few days and the increasingly frustrating sessions she had had with the medic.

“Look, ladies,” Presnol said, coming out of the corner of the room where he had been as unobtrusive as possible, “there are some folk who are psychologically unable to release control of their minds to anyone, no matter how they trust the operator. Killa’s been a singer a very long time now …”

“Don’t keep reminding me of that.” Killa heard the edge on her voice, but she was too keyed up by failure to control the reaction.

“Habits are ingrained …”

“I’ve never been a creature of habit,” Killa protested, trying to inject a little humor into the tensions that crackled about them all.

“But,” he said, turning to her, “protecting your site locations has played a dominant role in your subconscious. I mean, I’ve sat in on Donalla’s sessions with some of the inactive singers”—Killa approved of his euphemism—“and often it’s sounded to me as if they were keeping the information from themselves: the subconscious refusing to permit access of knowledge to the conscious.”

“Ha!” Killa folded her arms across her chest. “I go to sleep telling myself to remember. To dredge up the necessary referents. I
dream
of fardling spires and ranges and canyons and ravines. I
dream
of the act of cutting; I
dream
of crystal until I wake myself up thinking I’m asleep on a bed of the nardling shards!”

“Like a mystic?” Donalla tried to cover up the giggle that had slipped out.

Presnol looked shocked, but Killa grinned. “I know the sort you mean—total disregard of the purely physical. Mind over matter! Oh, Muhlah, if I only could …” And she groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Wait a minute,” Donalla said, drawing herself erect at a sudden inspiration. “You get thralled, don’t you? By crystal?”

“It can happen to any singer,” Killa said guardedly.

“Yes, but thrall’s a form of hypnosis, isn’t it? I mean, the crystal triggers the mesmerism, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does.”

Presnol caught the significance of their exchange. “But that would mean you’d have to go into the Ranges.”

“What’s wrong with that, Presnol?” Killashandra asked, slapping her hands to her knees. “I’d be doing something constructive at the same time, instead of sitting on my buns here accomplishing
nothing.
Sorry,
Donalla. You’ve tried. I just can’t comply! Maybe, in the Ranges, and in thrall, you can get through.”

“But—but—” Presnol floundered.

“But you’ve never been out, have you?”

“Only to rescue singers.” A convulsive spasm shook the medic’s frame.

“Well, it’s about time you saw the Ranges at their best,” Killa said, amused.

Presnol gulped.

“No, I’ll go,” Donalla said, giving her lover a reassuring smile. “I’m—supposedly—the hypnotist. And I’m not afraid of the Ranges.”

“I’m not, either,” Presnol protested, but the women exchanged knowing glances. “I’m not, truly.”

“Donalla’s presence is sufficient, I’d say,” Killa said.

“One of us should remain here, Pres,” Donalla said, “and you could continue the hypnotics with—” She hesitated, glancing at Killashandra. “—another patient.”

“Yes, I could,” Presnol said, beginning to relax. He was not as adept at the process as Donalla, but he had been successful with two of the inactive singers. “That would be a much more useful disposition of my time right now. Ah, when will you be going?” he asked, turning back at the door.

Killa and Donalla looked at each other. Killa shrugged. “We’ll check with Lars …”

But when they explained their plan to Lars Dahl, Killa could see plainly his resistance to the idea of her going out into the Ranges without him. She herself had had to override her own reluctance to go out in the company of a nonsinger, however dispassionately involved with the singing of crystal.

“There’s been no tradition of nonsingers—” Lars began.

“Ha! Since you’ve been demolishing tradition all over the place, why cavil at this one? The results could be exactly what’s needed. At least with me,” Killa said. “As you point out, I’m one of the oldest still active singers …”

“Killa!” His tone held a warning not to try his patience just then.

“Look, we can rig lots of safeguards. Weather’s behaving itself right now, so we can cancel that worry. Donalla can wear a combutton direct to your console, so if you have to do a rescue flit, you’ll be the first to hear,” Killa went on, perversely determined to undermine any argument he might voice. “Donalla’s stronger than she looks, if it comes to her having to break thrall.” She grinned. “Know any good throws?” she asked Donalla, who dismissed the question. “So, teach her your special techniques, up to and including setting my cutter sour. Muhlah knows that the reward could be worth the price of a cutter.”

“Don’t let Clarend hear you say that,” Lars remarked with a good attempt at genuine humor.

“Hmmm, too right.” Killa grinned back at him. Over the decades they had both taken plenty of abuse from the cutter.

“You’ll lend us the double sled then?” Killa asked. She looked out the broad window, beyond the Hangar. “Hell, it’s only midday. We could be deep in the Ranges and cutting in a couple of hours.” She leaned across the desk toward him, daring him, silently urging him to agree. “Of course, if you happened to have some black-crystal coordinates handy, I could be productive on several levels.”

“Killa, you do
know
what you’re doing, don’t you?”

“No, but Donalla thinks that thrall will help her get past the barriers I can’t seem to lower.”

He sighed deeply and threw his hands out in capitulation. “If you could come back with some black …” He set his lips firmly, hearing the desperation in his own voice.

He propelled himself out of his chair, and while Killashandra contacted the Hangar and arranged for his sled to be readied and stocked, he demonstrated to Donalla the various ways in which thrall could be broken.

“I didn’t realize thrall was that dangerous,” Donalla said, her eyes wide with the newly acquired information. “And you
let
Killashandra stay thralled to green …”

“That was a most unusual situation. Killa needed the overdose of crystal to counteract deprivation. I would never have permitted her to thrall to black—it’s far harder to break out of. And that’s why I
don’t
like just the pair of you going.”

“Well, if you want another singer along to see where we’ve cut black …” Killa teased.

“There isn’t another singer
in
or you can believe I’d send someone.”

“Who’s that dork at Trag’s desk then?”

“Certainly not yet a singer,” Lars said sarcastically, “but she does have business management experience and she’s capable of organizing pencil files and auditing accounts.”

Killa smiled, relieved by his disparagement of the very pretty girl’s abilities.

“Now, if you can’t break thrall by any of the methods I’ve demonstrated, you club her behind the ear and haul her bodily out of the Ranges. You are checked out on sleds, aren’t you?”

“You know we all are, Lars,” Donalla said, giving him an almost condescending smile. “I’ve even driven some of the worksleds when there was extensive storm damage to patch up.” Lars nodded acceptance of her
competence. “But I’m not charmed by the idea of bludgeoning Killashandra Ree into submission. I’ll bring along something soothing.”

“You have to be careful, though.” Lars held up a warning hand. “A singer in thrall can become violent. Strap her down in the sled if it comes to that.”

“Now that you’ve given her the worst-case scenario, how else can you scare her out of this attempt?” Killa asked in some disgust. She turned to Donalla. “Anyone would think he didn’t want this to succeed. I’ve never slugged him yet. Though I might start …” And she lifted her fist in mock anger.

He raised both arms and pretended to cringe from her blow. “Just in case,” he added, his manner lighter and a sparkle in his blue eyes, “have you any idea where you’re going?”

She grinned at him. “You need black. So, since you have already bared the location of your latest black location to Donalla, I thought you wouldn’t mind entrusting it to me, your partner.”

His smile deepened. “Here.” He thrust a slip of paper at her. “When you’re on course, eat it!”

“You are all heart, Lars Dahl,” Killa said, and marched Donalla out of the office and to the lift.

In the descending car, Killa was amused by the way Donalla eyed her.

“Sorry?”

“Not a bit,” Donalla said, scowling sternly; then her expression altered to anxiety. “It’s just I hadn’t realized the possible complications.”

Killa laughed. “You don’t, unless you’ve had to work with ’em. Lars shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

“He doesn’t want to lose you again, Killa,” Donalla said, her fine eyes intent. “He idolizes you.”

“He has an odd way of showing it at times,” Killa
replied, trying for a casual acceptance to conceal her surprise at Donalla’s appraisal.

“Sometimes that’s because it’s too important to admit, even to himself.”

The intensity of those quiet words rang in Killa’s mind. Lars had so often told her he loved her, but usually in a sort of offhand manner, as if he didn’t really mean it, or was astonished by blurting out the declaration. Always his hands and eyes had conveyed more than he actually said aloud. Even when she was denying him, she couldn’t genuinely deny her love for him, just her dependence on the affection of any other human being.

The lift door opened and, taking a deep breath, she led the way out to the Hangar and the double sled waiting and ready.

As there was no other sled in sight, Killa set the course directly toward the coordinates Lars had given her and, making a little display of it, dutifully chewed and swallowed the note. Donalla gave her a nervous smile. Killa found the fidgeting of the usually self-confident medic amusing. Well, her self-confidence was only to be expected—in an infirmary. But now she was in the singer’s bailiwick, and the Ranges were awesome. No question of that.

When Donalla relaxed enough to watch the spectacular scenery streaming by, Killa made something hot to drink and broke out some munchables. They hadn’t had any noon meal, and she wanted something in her belly if she was to let herself get thralled.

There was one problem, Killa mused, now that she focused her mind on the actual process. She never remembered a thing from any period in which she had been thralled. It was all a blank from the moment she
lifted the crystal free to the moment thrall lifted. Of course, Donalla had carefully explained that one didn’t remember the span of a hypnotic incident, either. Well, Killa thought with a shrug, finishing the last of her ration bar, it was worth a try! Lars needed the boost a success would give him.