Killashandra (26 page)

“Lodged by a Stellar of the Federated Artists’ Association.”

“Really?” Nahia clapped her hands together in delight, grinning at Lars with triumph. “I told you they were a good choice.”

Corish had straightened up in his chair. “You … were also told to investigate?”

“Oh, yes, but the organ repair should have been the priority!” And she gave Lars a stern glance.

“We can discuss this at a later time,” Olav said, raising his hand for silence. “We have a much more immediate problem in the imminent arrival of an official search party.”

“I’ve outlined the way to deal with that, haven’t I?” said Killashandra.

“To what purpose?” Olav asked. “Not that I am grateful for you forgiving my rascally son …”

“I think that would be my preeminent task, Olav Dahl,” Killashandra replied with a grim smile. “I don’t know which Elder supervises Security on this planet, but from what I have seen, your son is probably first on their list of suspects whether or not they’ve any evidence at all.”

“Oh, I agree, Olav,” Nahia said.

“Will Security believe your explanation?” Corish asked skeptically.

“What?” Killashandra rose in a flowing movement, drawing herself up to her full height, in a pose of haughty self-confidence. “Refute the statement of a crystal singer, a member of the Heptite Guild, a craftsman whose services are vital to the all-important tourist season? You must be joking! How, under which ever name you hold sacred, can they challenge what I say? Besides,” she said, relaxing and flashing a friendly smile, “I have every confidence in Lars’s ability to lend credence to the account. Don’t you?”

“I must say, when you assume that pose, Killashandra, I’d hesitate to contradict you.” Corish rose to his feet. “But now, I think that Nahia and I had better join Hauness and prepare to disappear. If they credit Killashandra’s explanation, they’ll not be likely to mount a twenty-five hour radar watch, will they? So we won’t have that problem to contend with.”

Nahia had returned to the console, and was taking some hard copy from the retrieval slot. “I’ve all the charts we need, Olav, and my thanks for your suggestions. Just in case, I think we will take the devious course through the islands and then double back north. Lars, Olver survived the purge and you can contact us
through him when you need to.” Corish had her by the arm and was drawing her toward a rear exit. “May I hope to see you again, Killashandra?”

“If that is at all possible, officially, yes, of course, and I look forward to the occasion.” Abruptly, annoyed at her stilted phrases, Killashandra stepped forward and swiftly embraced Nahia, kissing her on both cheeks. She stepped back, rather surprised at her uncharacteristic effusiveness until she saw the pleasure in Nahia’s brilliant eyes and smiling face.

“Oh, you are kind!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Killashandra replied fiercely, and then smiled with embarrassment. She felt Lars take her elbow and squeeze it gently.

“Should I need to contact you, Killashandra,” Corish added, opening the door and all but pushing Nahia out, “I’ll leave a message at the Piper Facility. As I already have.” The door closed behind them with an emphatic slam.

“Come,” Olav said, striding toward his front office. “We’ll signal the jet. Fortunately, the return of the
Pearl
has been entered in the Harbor log and not too much time will have elapsed before we inform them of this good news.” Olav paused in front of the huge console, frowning slightly at Killashandra. “You are certain you wish to go through with this? It could be dangerous!”

“Far more dangerous for them,” Killashandra said with a snort. “To have put me in such a situation in the first place.” Then she laughed. “Just think, Olav, with Lars’s confession that Torkes and Ampris hired him to ‘assault me,’ to prove my identity, how they have compromised themselves.”

“I actually had not considered that aspect.” He turned to the console and began to send out the message.

The jet cruiser responded instantly with a request for visual with which Olav instantly complied.

“Look pleased but humble, Lars,” Killashandra muttered before she turned to the screen, once more the haughty and arrogant crystal singer.

“Elder Torkes, I must protest! It is over five weeks since I was abducted from the City—a City, I might add, in which I had already been assaulted though I had been told in unequivocal terms that Optheria was a ‘secure’ planet, where everyone knew his place, and no unusual activities were condoned or permitted.” Killashandra stressed the words as sarcastically as possible, enjoying the shock on the Elder’s face. “Yet I could also be insulted by a minor and officious idiot,
and
kidnapped! I could be abandoned on this dreadful world. And it has taken you all this time to come to the islands which you yourself told me were populated by a dissident group. Dissident they might be, but courteous they are, and I have been made to feel far more welcome in these islands than I was during your pompous, ill-provisioned reception. I will also inform you, if you haven’t already heard from them, that my Guild will take a very dim view of this whole incident. In fact, reparations may well be required. Now, what have you to say to me?”

“Honored Guildmember, I cannot adequately express our horror, our concern for you during your terrible ordeal.” Those in the Harbor Master’s office saw the effort which Elder Torkes was forced to make to moderate his own manner. “I don’t know how the Council can ever redeem itself in your eyes. Anything we can do—”

“I suggest that you begin by expressing gratitude to the young man who rescued me after that frightening hurricane—Why, I thought I’d be swept to sea and drowned during the night. This is the young man,” and ruthlessly Killashandra pulled Lars beside her. Torkes’s face was unreadable as he inclined his head in the curtest possible recognition. “He’s the skipper of the—what did you say your boat’s called, Captain Dahl?”

“The
Pearl Fisher
, Guildmember.”

“I might add that he took considerable risk to himself and his vessel to put in to that island. The monsters in the lagoon and all about it were in some sort of frenzy. The storm does that, he told me. But I was so relieved to see another human after all that time … Look at me! I’m a sight! My hair, my skin! I’m nothing but skin and bones!”

“Our estimated time of arrival is 18:30, Guildmember. Until that time, the Harbor Master will be able to attend to your comfort to the limits of his facilities.” Torkes regained some of his usual repressive manner as he eyed Olav Dahl significantly.

“Begging your indulgence, Elder Torkes, but the Guildmember insisted that you be contacted before any personal comfort was seen to. We are hers to command until your arrival.”

The picture was cut off at the cruiser screen. No sooner was it blank than Lars seized Killashandra in his arms, whirling her about the communications room, roaring his approval.

“His face! Did you see how he had to struggle to control himself, Killa?”

“You’ll break my ribs, Lars—Leave off! But you can see how easy it is—”

“When you have one of the most prestigious Guilds in the FSP to back you,” Olav said, but he was grinning as broadly with satisfaction at the confrontation as Lars was.

“Well, you have the FSP Council—”

“Only if they are in the position to acknowledge me,” Olav reminded her, raising a hand in contradiction. “Which they are not, as my mission here was covert. The Council does not interfere with planetary politics when no other planet or system is affected. Optheria could not be approached on an official basis, you know. The FSP had ratified their Charter.”

“With you to explain all about the lack of popular acceptance of the restriction, surely—”

“My dear Killashandra Ree, the situation on Optheria cannot be altered by one man’s testimony, especially a man who could by planetary laws to which he is now subject under intergalactic regulations, be tried and convicted of treasonous acts.”

“Oh!” Killashandra’s elation drained away quickly.

“Don’t concern yourself with this problem now, my friend—for I count you one,” Olav said, gripping her on the shoulder. “I am grateful for what you have already achieved.” He took Lars’s shoulder in his other hand, smiling with great affection at his son. “Ever since we saw the cruiser jet on the screen, I’d been wracking my brains on how to protect Lars from interrogation by Torkes. You have scuttled that plan, but do not deceive yourself that all will be fair sailing.”

“It was a superb performance, Killa! When I tell the others—”

“Softly, Lars, softly,” Olav said, “Torkes has had enough to swallow. Give him no more on your peril. Now, Killashandra, we must do the courteous for you, and lavish you with suitable gifts and personal services—”

“Teradia, of course, Father. And I’ll advise her about our visitors—and their preferences.” Lars grimaced with distaste.

“Yes, I’ll warn her you’re coming up and then I’ll organize appropriate festivities.”

“Why waste a barbecue on Torkes? He doesn’t eat!” Killashandra said in disgust.

“But you do, Killashandra, and it’s
your
return to civilization that we’re celebrating!” Lars squeezed her about the waist.

“One point, Lars,” and Olav laid a restraining hand on his son’s arm as he reached and removed the garland
from his neck. “I am sorry, but these would bring un-welcome questions.” He reached for Killashandra’s and she hesitated before giving it to him.

“Not half as sorry as I am.” She walked out of the building, Lars following quietly behind her.

T
eradia’s house was situated on one of the upper levels facing North Harbor, and as they hurried up the steep, zigzag stairs that linked the terraces, Killashandra saw that much of the debris occasioned by the hurricane had already been removed. Groups of young people were unhurriedly staking polly trees upright and replanting those young pollys which had been entirely uprooted. Others were pruning bushes or restoring bedding plants.

“Are there any snakes in this paradise?” Killashandra asked when they paused at the first level to let her catch her breath.

“Snakes? What are those?” Lars asked, humoring her.

“Normally, a long, slender, legless reptile—only I meant humans with unpleasant characteristics.” She made a weaving, sinuous gesture with her hand, and grimaced with distaste. “Surely the Elders make use of informers and spies.”

“Oh, they do. Most of whom report themselves to us and pass back such information as we want the Elders to have.” Lars grinned as his fingers caressed her arm. “It’s not naive of us; islanders stick together. The Elders can give us little that we lack—except the freedom to leave the planet. To be sure, not many of us would leave: it’s having the option to do so. And my father has a small detector so that people posing as tourists can be quickly identified. Father has a theory that only a certain type of personality is attracted to such an infamous occupation, and they often give themselves away. Strangely enough, by not singing!” He gave her a mischievous grin. “I was relieved to hear you singing lustily at the barbecue.”

“I nearly didn’t because, if I could recognize your tenor, you might have spotted me as that midnight soprano. So I sang alto. But, Lars, isn’t Nahia in jeopardy for being here? Someone might just slip up and mention her presence?”

Lars took her by the elbows and pulled her against him, unconcernedly stroking her hair. “Beloved Sunny, Nahia would be protected under any circumstances but, as it happens, only my father, you, and the people she came with, know she was on this island during the hurricane. Her party’s ocean jet has been secreted in another of the Back caves, unseen by anyone. It’s still there and won’t emerge until we’ve had a chance to jam the cruiser’s surveillance systems. Nahia and Hauness will use the islands to screen them from any possibility of detection when the cruiser takes you—all right, and me—back to the Mainland. Satisfied? I told you my father is efficient. He is.

“There will also be no one here tonight from Wing Harbor who might inadvertently remember the girl Lars Dahl had as his partner.”

“But—”

“No one in Wing will feel slighted: they’re all too busy with storm damage. Every building on the waterfront collapsed. And Wingers avoid Elder inspection as they would a smacker school.”

Killashandra did feel relieved by his explanations. She was rather pleased, too, as she reviewed her confrontation with Torkes. Nor would she fail to be exceedingly cautious in the presence of any of the elders. Torkes would never forgive her for that tongue-lashing, and she knew that he would do everything he could to rank the others against her if a second confrontation was to occur. Still, she was glad she had launched her frontal assault on the fardling tyrant.

“We shan’t leave anything to chance, however, Sunny,” Lars went on as they climbed to the last terrace level. “If sun-bleached hair and eyebrows alter your appearance enough to deceive an FSP agent—”

“Corish was not expecting me to be on that beach, any more than you—”

“Then Teradia can restore your beauty. With more sophisticated clothes, and that hauteur of yours, you’ll be every inch the crystal singer.” Lars halted, swinging her into his arms again. No one was in sight. “Will the impressively beautiful crystal singer still favor her island lover?” He smiled down at her, but tension caught at the corners of his grey-tinged eyes.