The Crystal Star (28 page)

Lelila followed Rillao into the cobblestone streets of the town proper. The buildings hugged the ground,

low dwellings of black stone blocks, worked so carefully they fit without mortar.

With every step, Lelila wanted to stop and demand that Rillao tell her where they were going, who they

were looking for. But she suspected that asking for more explanations would cause her to lose face in

Rillao's eyes. She walked in silence, driven by desperation that she forced to the back of her mind.

The cobblestones gave way to rough glass brick. In this part of town even the houses were built of glass,

the muddy native volcanic glass. The surrounding walls rose twice Rillao's height, a forbidding barrier.

Lelila wondered if the volcanic glass could be made transparent enough to look through. So far she had

not seen a single window.

Rillao stopped in the spun-glass arch of a recessed doorway. The glass strands looked like streams of

dirty water. A pattern of parallel glass rods decorated the door.

Artoo-Detoo caught up to them and pushed into the recess beside them, crowding the space.

Why don't they welcome us? Lelila asked herself. Then she thought, Who do you think you are, some

princess who's welcome anywhere she cares to go?

Rillao drew her fingertips across the glass rods. Each one hummed a different note. The crystalline music

shimmered around them. A moment later the door swung open.

The glass wall surrounded a huge shallow pool filled with polished agate gravel. Water flowed over the

bright agates, sparkling and trickling like music. Cobbled paths twisted across the pool-bed, and above,

a strange webwork of thick glass fibers--glass so clear and colorless that it disappeared at certain angles

--rose from the pools, lifting into delicate peaks.

The ground shivered gently. The glass webworks quivered and hummed.

Several beings draped their boneless bodies and prehensile trunks across the webworks, lounging in the

glass framework. A number of other, similar beings moved leisurely in the pools, splashing the shallow

water on their skins or burrowing down into the agates till only their eyes and trunk-ends showed.

One raised a radial trunk (it had five) and sprayed water high in the air. The sun glanced off the droplets

and created a rainbow.

One of the beings lounging on the web shook the spray off its skin and hooted in protest through two of

its trunks.

Rillao led Lelila and Artoo-Detoo past the ponds and between the supporting struts of the webwork.

The person who lives here must be very rich, Lelila thought, to be so profligate with water on a world

that's mostly bare volcanic plain. And the person must be very brave, to build so high, with glass, in an

earthquake zone.

The noon sun beat down through the webwork, surrounding Lelila with ethereal shadows and flecks of

spectral color.

"These people look nothing like the people in the bazaar," Lelila whispered to Rillao. Beyond that, they

were a species of being with whom she was entirely unfamiliar.

"Of course not," Rillao growled in an undertone. "No one is native to this world. Those were the peasants

and traders. These are the bureaucrats." They followed a winding cobbled path, walking carefully on the

slick places where water had splashed. No one spoke to them or took any more notice of them than they

took of the ground tremors. Several of the beings pushed the agate gravel into new patterns, new

contours.

Artoo-Detoo bumped along behind, hooting in disgust at the design each time he had to navigate an acute

angle of the pathway.

Lelila and Rillao reached the center of the agate pool, directly beneath the highest point of the glass

webwork.

In a small deep agate nest, one of the boneless beings shifted back and forth. Water sloshed peacefully to

its rhythm. Only two of its prehensile trunks projected, one high and taking in air, the other low and

exhaling, occasionally dipping beneath the surface to blow bubbles.

Rillao sat on her heels beside the agate nest, and waited.

Powerfully disinclined to sit and wait, Lelila remained standing, gazing around curiously at the unfamiliar

courtyard. She bent down and reached for one of the polished agates.

Rillao grabbed her hand. The Firrerreo's scarred fingers clamped down with surprising force.

"Have you no manners?" she whispered. "Sit down and be quiet and keep control of your eyes--and

your hands!" "Let go!" Lelila jerked her hand away.

Rillao's nails scratched her skin.

"Ouch!" One of the scratches cut deep enough to bleed. Lelila brought her hand to her mouth. She

wondered if Rillao's nails contained venom or allergen. She thought, I'm a bounty hunter, where would I

learn manners, and why should I be punished for not knowing any?

"Your eyes, and your hands--and your voice!" Rillao said.

All right, Lelila thought, I'm a bounty hunter, I can sit quiet and wait if I have to.

She glared at Rillao, who gave no sign that she owed Lelila either explanation or apology. Lelila sat

crosslegged and let her hair spread around her. The ends fanned out on the cobbles.

I can still see, she thought with satisfaction, but now no one can tell where my eyes are looking.

No one can tell where my eyes are.

So she sat beside Rillao and watched the boneless beings lounge and spout and push agates into new

swirls and patterns. Every so often she glanced at the being in the central pool. It breathed and blew

bubbles and occasionally caressed an agate or two with its prehensile limbs.

Rillao balanced on her toes, her forearms relaxed on top of her knees. Her eyes were closed. Lelila

thought, This is hardly the time or place for a nap!

She felt agitated. Anger and impatience trickled across her like the water in the agate pool. Beneath the

surface, despair lurked.

Don't get so involved in your prey, she said to herself. You're a bounty hunter, if this one gets away you'll

always have another case to go after. Above all, you must stay calm.

A spark of light ignited at the back of her mind. She came to full awareness, full attention, thinking, I'm

here, who's calling for me--The being burst upward, all its tentacles extended and twisting, and landed

with a great gush of water. The fountain erupted from the agate pool and splashed Lelila from the top of

her head to the ends of her hair.

With a shout of surprise, Lelila pushed herself back from the edge of the path. Her hair was so thick that

it had protected her clothing from being drenched.

The spark of light vanished, forgotten.

The wave soaked the path. Water flowed around her. She jumped up and sat on her heels like Rillao, out

of the wet.

Artoo-Detoo squealed and rolled backward and rotated its carapace back and forth, shaking off the

water like a dog. Lelila grabbed the droid as its back wheels touched the edge of the path. It rolled a

handsbreadth forward, no closer, and settled stolidly on the cobbles.

"Enough, cease!" the being cried, speaking through one of its prehensile trunks. The central bulge of its

body projected above the water and the ends of its tentacles writhed. Fine tendrils covered the tips of

several of the tentacles (it had at least ten; ten was when Lelila lost count of the snaky limbs). Its mass of

crystalline eyes swiveled toward Lelila and Rillao, like so many tiny antennae.

Rillao, who had endured the soaking without a sound or motion of protest, slowly opened her eyes.

"I have business, Indexer," she said quietly.

"Business! Speak to my assistants. Why are you here, disturbing my concentration?" "To solve a difficult

problem," Rillao said. To Lelila's wonder, the Firrerreo offered a compliment. "Only the Indexer can

make suitable connections." Mollified, the Indexer subsided into the agate pool.

"A challenge, you say," the Indexer said.

"A very difficult one." "State your question." "We are in the trade," Rillao said, in a voice flat and cold.

"And we have been engaged to fulfill the requests of our employers." "Ah," the Indexer said. "Employers

of your own planetary group?" "Yes," Rillao said.

"Wishing the same?" "Yes." Lelila struggled to decipher the code of the conversation. She wondered

what difference the background of employers made. She started to say she was her own employer. The

scratch on her hand gave her a brief, stinging twinge. She remembered Rillao's caution to keep control of

her voice.

"That is a challenge," the Indexer said. "For you, that is to say." The faceted eyes clumped together in the

direction of Lelila. "In the case of her, who knows? We will worry about her later." The faceted eyes

returned their focus to Rillao. "I thought your people were extinct." "Not... quite," Rillao said.

"I thought the Firrerreo did not participate in the trade," it said.

"We are highly adaptable." "I see, I see. That is good--a good way to keep from becoming extinct. Ah, I

do see, you wish to widen the gene pool." Rillao remained silent.

"Or perhaps withdraw your people from the trade.

Cause trouble, publicity--" "All that concerns you is the shape of my money." The code became clear to

Lelila the bounty hunter. Rillao was asking to buy a slave.

Your life has been too sheltered, she told herself. It's a good thing that you've become a bounty hunter.

She glanced sidelong at Rillao, through the curtain of her damp hair. She felt herself blushing with furious

anger and humiliation, to be described as a slave buyer to a slave procurer.

What does it matter, Lelila said to herself, what the Indexer believes you do for a living? What do you

care what the Indexer thinks?

Remember your job. Your job is to find the escaped ship. And if deception is the means for it... think of

your reward when you succeed.

"The search will be costly," the Indexer said.

"You must realize that. A great deal of data to be sifted for a small bit of information." Rillao dismissed

the cost with a gesture. She turned toward Lelila, who suddenly realized that Rillao had no money. Rillao

had nothing.

"Pay him whatever he wishes," Rillao said to Lelila.

"But I don't--" She stopped, thinking, Of course I carry money. Why ever did I think I don't carry

money?

Confused, distressed, she jumped to her feet.

Balanced precariously on her toes on the wet cobblestones, she swayed and nearly fell.

Rillao gripped her upper arm, steadying her, shocking her out of her momentary hallucination of being

two people. One, Lelila the bounty hunter, straightforward and phlegmatic; the other, a stranger,

stark-eyed and dangerous with the power of her rage.

Rillao had caught several strands of her hair, along with her arm. Inadvertently she pulled them.

"That hurts," Lelila said. "Let go, I'll pay him." The enraged stranger vanished.

Rillao reluctantly withdrew her hand, staring at Lelila with a curious, intent expression.

Avoiding Rillao's gaze, Lelila turned toward the Indexer. "How much shall I pay you?" "It depends on the

search." The being reached up with several tentacles and wrapped them around the glass superstructure.

The rest of the being's limbs burrowed down into the agates.

Lelila crouched down again to wait.

An eerie musical note of high, crystalline character emanated from the glass superstructure. The boneless

beings lounging upon the glass hunched themselves into motion and climbed with careless fluidity toward

the Indexer. Their motion changed the pitch and intensity of the notes, creating an ethereal melody. The

closer they moved, the higher rose the pitch. Rillao narrowed her eyes and raised her shoulders, as if to

block the tune from her perception. After the sound passed completely out of Lelila's hearing, Rillao

moaned softly, dropped her head, and slipped her hands over her ears.

All the beings in the Indexer's courtyard congregated nearby. Each one twined tentacles with the others,

till their organic network cast an irregular shadow over the Indexer.

The Indexer's crystalline eyes focused into the pond; the Indexer's free tentacles sifted through the agate

gravel. The stones rattled and scraped together; the water made them sound hollow.

"What's he doing?" Lelila whispered.

"Shh!" Her toes and her knees ached but she did not want to sit down in the puddle. Her wet hair chilled

her. She stayed where she was, her legs trembling.

A moment later, the Indexer relaxed from sifting through the agate gravel. The other beings disentangled

themselves, and slipped back on twisting tentacles to their places in the ponds and on the glass

framework. Whether they went back to their original positions, Lelila could not tell. The melody dropped

back into her hearing, then stopped abruptly in mid-trill when the Indexer's tentacles dropped from the

strands.

The Indexer's tentacles arranged themselves into a rosette around the boneless body. The crystal eyes

projected above the water.

One of the tentacles crept above the water and flattened out before Lelila, who slipped her hand into the

pocket where she kept the money.

"What is the price?" Rillao said, her voice tight.

The Indexer named a figure. Lelila tightened her hand around the bills. The price was a significant fraction

of their resources.

This is no time to quibble, she said to herself. She put a handful of credits onto the Indexer's prehensile

trunk, which snapped into a coil around it and splashed back underwater. The tentacle burrowed into the