Trag´s bulky figure.

        »Trag, I bless your timely arrival. We´re both fingers and thumbs

trying to set this manual. A fresh hand and a sane mind will work wonders!«

        Trag gave her a nod of his head and stepped inside, giving Lars a

cursory glance before his attention was completely taken by a critical

appraisal of their endeavors. Killashandra ignored the entrance of Ampris,

Torkes, Thyrol, and Mirbethan, who filed slowly into the room in Trag´s

wake. Trag picked up the tuning hammer and struck each of the crystals.

        Trag merely nodded his head. Lars made a noise of protest but

Killashandra shot him a warning glance. The fact that Trag had no comments

to make was all the approval she required, knowing better than to expect

overt praise from him. For a very fleeting moment, however, she was seized

with a totally irrational desire to throw her arms about Trag´s neck, a

notion which she quickly suppressed without revealing it by so much as a

grin.

        Elder Torkes, resembling the scavenger bird more faithfully than

ever, seemed about to step forward, then, apparently, changed his mind as

if aware of how Trag´s bulk diminished his stature to insignificance.

        »You have only just arrived, Guildmember, and as it is now midday,

refreshment has been prepared for you.« Torkes began with scant courtesy.

        Trag dismissed the offer. »You gave the Guild to understand the

matter was of the most urgent.«

        »We need to eat,« Killashandra said tartly. »Just send us in some

food, please, someone,« and she picked up more brackets as Trag removed the

next crystal from its bed of plasfoam. »We might even finish this today if

given the chance to work without interruption.«

        »Not quite.« Trag amended in his deliberate fashion as he held the

crystal up for inspection in the ceiling light. Satisfied he lowered it,

his gaze traveling beyond to the fascinated observers. »If you please?« And

he extended his hand toward the door.

        Killashandra, her eyes on Lars´s blank face, had to fight not to

chortle at the aura of dismay, fury, and shock emanating from the four high

ranking Optherians. But her hands were free of both sweat and tremble and,

with Lars carefully tightening the matching bracket, they were ready to

fasten it the moment Trag inserted the crystal in place. The door panel

whooshed over the rectangle of sunlight. Killashandra tightened her bracket

just as Lars finished his. Trag took up his hammer for the ceremonial tap

and the D, mellow and clear, broke the silence of the room.

        »Just two more, Trag and I believe we´ll have something to show

you,« Killashandra said, reaching for more brackets. »This is Lars Dahl.«

        »A lover posing as a bodyguard! A young man with highly suspicious

credentials,« Trag said bluntly, his hooded stare fixed on Lars.

        Killashandra held up a hand to restrain any understandable outburst

from Lars but he only smiled, inclining his head in brief acknowledgment of

the description.

        »According to Elder Ampris or Torkes?« Killashandra asked, grinning

at Trag as she faced him squarely.

        Trag focused his attention on her. Had she not been so positive of

her own righteousness, she would have been hard pressed to maintain her

composure beneath that basilisk stare.

        »I will hear your explanation, then, for I warn you, Killashandra

Ree, the Guild looks with disfavor on a member who abrogates her

contractual obligations for whatever personal reasons obtain . . .«

        Killashandra stared at Trag incredulously.

        »I was given two assignments here, Trag, by you -- «

        »The secondary assignment was considerably less important than the

primary -- « Trag´s big hand indicated the unfinished installation.

        »The two are more closely linked than you or Lanzecki imagined when

the Guild accepted that contract. But then abduction ought not to be a

high-risk-factor on well-ordered, conservative secure Optheria. Right? Ever

aware of my primary obligation,« Killashandra allowed some of her outrage

to color her voice, »I swam dangerous channels from one island to another

in order to escape the one I was dumped on. Confounding all parties and

managing thus to return to my primary contractual obligation.«

        Trag merely raised his eyebrows.

        »Tell me, Trag, what is your opinion of subliminal conditioning?«

        Trag´s bleak eyes widened fractionally. »The Council of the

Federated Sentient Planets has declared any form of subliminal projection

morally criminal and punishable by expulsion from the Federation.«

        »Then if I were an Elder,« Lars said in a quiet, faintly amused

tone, »I wouldn´t be so quick to accuse anyone else of having highly

suspicious credentials.«

        »If you will assist us to install the next two crystals, Trag, I

believe we may be able to prove our allegation,« Killashandra said.

        »If you cannot prove this allegation, Killashandra Ree, you are

liable to severe discipline and censure.«

        »Then isn´t it convenient that I´m right?«

        »Guildmember, I have been subjected to subliminal conditioning,«

Lars said, as if he sensed her minute uncertainty. Trag turned his

penetrating stare on the islander.

        »The insidiousness of subliminal conditioning, Lars Dahl, is that

the victim is totally unaware of the bombardment.«

        »Only if he is unprepared, Guildmember. My father, late an agent of

the Federated Council, was able to safeguard me, and other friends, against

electronically induced subliminals. Which, I might add, are particularly

adaptable to the heavy emotional experience of the sensory organ.«

        »Late an agent?« Killashandra fancied she saw some diminution of

Trag´s intractability.

        »Trapped here by the same restraint which keeps Optherians from

competing in galactic enterprise,« Lars replied. »Contact with the

Federated Council has only just been reestablished after nearly thirty

years -- «

        She and Trag heard the minute sound at the same instant and assumed

suitable poses of interrupted labor when the door panel slid open.

Mirbethan escorted the lunch table which the security guard wheeled in.

        »If you´ll just leave it there, Mirbethan,« Killashandra gestured

with a hand full of brackets while Trag and Lars bent over an already sited

crystal, »we´ll take a break shortly.«

        »Not the one they expect, either,« Lars murmured when the door

panel had closed. Trag favored him with another unnerving stare. Lars

returned it equably, with a slight bow toward the manual case. »After you,

Guild-member.«

        »Why three more crystals?« Trag asked.

        »This loft is half the size of the available space behind the organ

console on stage,« Lars said. »We think the subliminal programming

equipment is hidden behind that wall, and accessed by a musical key

activated from this manual. We have reason to believe that Comgail, who is

alleged to have smashed the crystal,« Trag´s eyebrows raised, »was killed

because he had discovered that musical key, not because he was injured by

the shards or because he had destroyed the manual. That would have only got

him sent to rehab.«

        »Who is responsible for the subliminal programming?«

        Lars grinned maliciously, »My own personal candidate is Ampris; he

is musically trained.«

        »It wouldn´t take musicality to strike notes in the right

sequence,« Trag said.

        »True, but he knows as much about the organ as every performer must

and he became head of the Conservatory about the time the subliminal

conditioning started. It began shortly after my father arrived, and he was

here to investigate thc first request for the revocation of the

planet-bound restriction. Then, too, Torkes has always favored the

propaganda control of population. But what one Elder does, the others

invariably condone. And subliminal conditioning sustains them in their

power.«

        »Arrange for me to meet your father, Lars Dahl.«

        Lars grinned. »His credentials are as suspicious as mine,

Guildmember. I doubt we could reach him. In any event, we are here, close

to the damning proof of what we suspect. Surely a bird in hand -- «

        »Bird?« The word exploded from Killashandra, a result of the

tension she felt and a combination of surprise and respect for Lars´s

sterling performance under Trag´s unnerving scrutiny.

        »Perhaps the analogy is wrong,« and Lars shrugged diffidently.

»Well, Guildmember? Have I my day in court, too?«

        »Three more crystals?« Trag´s manner gave no indication of his

thoughts.

        »Two more,« Killashandra said, »if we are using the original key.«

        Trag made a barely audible grunt at that comment before he reached

for the next crystal and motioned Lars to place his bracket.

        Killashandra could not keep her mind entirely on the task at hand

for she suddenly realized just how much rested on the truth of the

dissidents´ contentions. Had she indeed allowed a sexual relationship to

cloud her judgment? Or favorable first impressions from Nahia, Hauness, and

the others to color her thinking? And yet, there was Corish von

Mittelstern, and Olav Dahl. Or was that convoluted situation carefully

contrived? She might be out on a limb, the saw in her own hand, she thought

as she delicately tightened the bracket on the second crystal. She didn´t

dare look at Lars across the open case as they straightened up.

        Expressionless as ever, Trag handed Lars the tuning hammer. Lars

gave Killashandra a rakish and reassuring grin and then tapped out the

sequence: da da da-dum, da da da-dum. For one hideous moment nothing

happened and Killashandra felt the last vestige of energy drain from her

body with the groan she could not stifle. A groan that was echoed by a

muted noise and a slight vibration in the floor. Startled, she and Lars

looked down but Trag remained with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

        »Clever!« was his comment as the wall sank slowly and, to their

intense relief, noiselessly apart from the initial protest. »Clever and

utterly despicable.« As soon as the descending wall reached knee height,

Trag swung over it, Lars right behind him.

        For a heavy man, Trag moved with considerable speed and economy of

motion. He did a complete circuit of the room, his eyes sweeping from one

side to the other, identifying each bank in the complicated and extensive

rack system, and the terminal which activated the units. He completed his

circuit at the three heavy cables that provided the interface between the

two sets of computers.

        »No one has been in here for some time,« he said finally, noting

the light coating of dust on the cabinets

        »No need, Guildmember.«

        »You may address me as Trag.«

        Lars grinned triumphantly at Killashandra, where she stood, resting

her ear against the door panel. Nothing must interfere at this critical

moment.

        »Trag. The yearly dose for Optherians occurs shortly before the

Festival season begins, and the tourists arrive. All Optherians are given

the ‘opportunity and privilege,´ « and Lars´s voice was mildly scornful,

»of attending the preliminary concerts for the current year´s Festival

selections. The Mainlanders get their dose then, to keep them contented

while the tourists are here. Then, the tourists get theirs, which includes

sufficient Optherianisms to prevent them from accepting messages from

strangers for posting once they return to their homes. Some don´t, you

know, having fallen for the vastly superior and secure Optherian natural

way of life.«

        Trag dropped his gaze from the fascinating cable. »How many escape

these conditioning sessions?«

        »Not many Mainlanders, though there are a few who independently

discovered the subliminal images.« Lars turned to Killashandra. »Nahia,

Hauness, Brassner, and Theach. Over the last ten years, they´ve been able

to warn those they felt could be trusted.«

        »Do the Elders know that some escape?« Killashandra asked.

»There is a head check at the concerts which simultaneously registers with

the Central Computers.«

        »But islanders don´t go to concerts, do they?« Killashandra said

with a chuckle. It was a relief to know that she had occasion to be amused.

It had looked very grim for a bit there, with Trag coming on strong as

Guildmember.

        »I think it is time to end such pernicious subjugation,« Trag said.

He took from his biceps pocket a hand-unit of the sort used to check

programming systems, and placed it on the nearest cabinet. »It should be a

simple matter of reprogramming the master sensory mixer to bypass the

subliminal generator. That would inhibit the subliminal processor, yet

leave no physical trace of alteration.« Taking from the same pocket a heavy

compound knife of the kind favored by crystal singers for field use, he

opened the heaviest cutting blade. He sliced carefully at the plastic cable

cover, peeling it back to expose the multicolor flex package.

        Killashandra watched as Trag set the system checker against the

flex, taking a preliminary reading. As he pondered the results, she could

not restrain a glance at the subliminal room. The devices were so repugnant

to her, abusing every precept of the individual privacy which had been her

birthright on Fuerte, that she felt besmirched just looking at them.

        »If there´s no power . . .« Lars began, his hand half-raised in

caution.

        » I have had sufficient experience with this sort of equipment,

Lars Dahl.« Trag entered instructions on the hand unit, noted the display

on the rectangular vdr, and a muscle twitched in his cheek. »The subroutine

of the subliminal will function on any dummy test, and indicate the

programming modes selected under their program listing, but I am placing a

security lock,« and with those words he put the device firmly against the

thick red-coded cable and depressed the main key, »on it now. I don´t have

the equipment necessary to generate a program for propaganda

detoxification.«

        »That´s too bad,« Killashandra said with heartfelt dismay

        »There!« Trag said. »And unless they know exactly what I´ve done to

inhibit the subliminal processor, the alterations can´t be reversed. Let

the Optherians program that computer for whatever images they wish. None

will reach the minds of the people they intend to pervert!« Trag pulled

hard on the plastic coating and then pressed it firmly back around the

cables. Killashandra could not see where the cable had been entered.

        »And you´ll bear witness to the Federated Council?« Lars was taut

as he eagerly awaited Trag´s reply.

        »We shall all bear witness to the Council, young man,« Trag

replied.

        Lars nodded but his smile was wry. »It will be the crystal singer´s

word that will be credited, Guildmember Trag, not that of an islander whose

motivations are suspect.«

        »Even if he could leave the planet, Trag,« Killashandra said.

»Remember the arc at the shuttle port? Didn´t it glow blue and erupt guards

with weapons?«

        Trag nodded. »Except when I passed under it.«

        »That arc deposits a mineral deposit in Optherian bones,« Lars

said, »and in those of anyone here for more than six months. Which is what

caught my father originally.«

        Trag dismissed that difficulty with a flick of his hand. »I have a

warrant in my possession to arrest the party or parties responsible for the

Guildmember´s abduction, which would take you past their reprisals.«

        »You came well prepared, Trag,« Killashandra said with a rueful

smile. »But you´d have to bring the entire population of the Archipelago if

you named Lars Dahl abductor.«

        When Trag turned to Lars for affirmation. he nodded. »I hadn´t

planned on leaving Optheria,« Lars said, with a slightly embarrassed grin,

»and I´m sure my father is more than willing to, but you´d need an entire

liner to remove those who´d be vulnerable. The Optherian Elders have been

waiting for years for an excuse to search and seize the adult population of

the islands. They´d all end up in rehab. Unless, of course, you also have

the authority to suspend every government official on this charge.«

        Trag was silent for a long moment, regarding Lars steadily. Then he

exhaled slowly. »I was given broad powers by the Federated Council but not

that broad.« His lower jaw jutted out slightly. »Had there been any

suspicion of this . . . .« He paused, his contempt for once visible in his

expression. »Let us not reveal this knowledge prematurely.´

        Carefully they removed every trace of their entry. Neither man had

touched the cabinets or files, so covering their tracks took little time.

Meanwhile, Killashandra repositioned herself at the door panel, listening

for sounds of approach.

        Trag reexamined the cables he had clipped, checking from all angles

to be sure the incision would escape all but the most critical inspection.

He gave the room a thorough survey and then, apparently satisfied, looked

expectantly at Killashandra and Lars.

        »Well, close it!´

        Killashandra gave a burst of puzzled laughter, more shrill than

amused.

        »How?«

        Lars chuckled as he took the hammer from her nerveless hand. »Find

something he likes . . .« He tapped out the Beethoven sequence again. The

wall immediately responded by closing, giving the barest thunk as the panel

met the ceiling. Trag gave the cable housing a final glance and dismissed

it with a shrug.

        »I suggest you eat something, Killashandra. You´re too pale.

Probably the effect of combining both assignments for your Guild. Lars

Dahl, set the next bracket.«

 

Chapter 21

 

It was well that they had completed their investigations, for Elder Ampris

returned twice, the first time issuing an unrefusable invitation to a quiet

dinner with several of the Elders who were most anxious to meet the

Guildmember.

        »Which means you´d better eat before you go,« Killashandra told

Trag when Ampris had left them. »Especially if Elder Pentrom, a medical man

with interesting views on nutrition, is attending.« She made a very small

circle -- thumb and forefinger overlapping -- to indicate the size of the

portion. »Trag, do you drink?«

        Trag peered up at her. »Why?«

        »The worthy Elders, Pentrom in particular. are currently under the

impression that members of our profession must daily consume alcohol in

substantial quantities to assist their unusual metabolism.«

        Trag slowly straightened from the manual. His expression bordered

on the incredulous. »Oh?«

        »They are so frail, these Elders of Optheria« -- Lars made a

derogatory comment -- »that I should dislike causing any of them distress.

Prematurely, that is.«

        »Or exposing yourself as a calculating fraud!« Lars suggested.

        »Occasionally it is useful to spawn a helpful myth about our

profession. Otherwise we´ll be stuck with water which, despite its high

mineral content, is not purified because of the Optherian lust for nature

untampered. It tastes as if it was decanted from the tank of the first

long-range starship. The beer here is not bad.«

        A flicker crossed Trag´s usually inscrutable face.

        »Yarran beer?«

        »Unfortunately no.« Trag´s preference raised him further in her

estimation. »The Bascum brew is potable while the better beer is illegal.«

She shot a knowing glance at Lars who grinned back at her.

        »They generally are. Your advice is timely, Killashandra,« Trag

said, then appropriately sounded the B-flat.

        Thirty-four crystals were in place when Elder Ampris appeared for

the second time late that afternoon. There was no disguising the elation in

his eyes at their progress. He was seething with the most excitement she

had yet seen an Elder exhibit. Had he despaired of running up this year´s

dose of indoctrinal conditioning on his subliminal program?

        »We will finish this tomorrow,« Trag told Elder Ampris, »with a

further day to tune the new manual into the system, and to check the other

three manuals for positive feedback. One minor detail on which Killashandra

was unable to reassure me: Was the organ in use when the manual was

destroyed?«

        »I believe it was,« Ampris replied, his lids dipping to conceal his

brown eyes. »I will of course confirm this. After the deplorable

desecration, I myself conducted an inspection of the other manuals to be

sure they were undamaged.«

        »Elder Ampris, Killashandra Ree and I would consider ourselves

derelict in our Guild obligation to Optheria if we failed to assure

ourselves, and you, that your Festival organ is in full and complete

working order.«

        »Of course,« Ampris managed through clenched teeth. Then, in an

abrupt alteration, he smiled tightly. »Most thorough of you.

        »Can we turn on the main organ console from here?« Killashandra

asked, wondering what had caused Ampris´s sudden change. »I admit that I am

quite eager to hear it in all its glory.«

        Ampris regarded her for a long moment before his thin lips widened

in the original smile.

        »For you to appreciate fully the versatility of the Festival Organ,

you need some measure of comparison. Therefore I am delighted that you are

able to attend this evening´s concert which will be performed on the

two-manual Conservatory instrument.«

        »Yes, of course.« Killashandra let pleased affability ooze through

her voice. »Now that this installation is nearly completed, and with Trag

here, I realize how much tension I´ve been under. It is always so much

easier to share responsibilities, isn´t it, Elder Ampris?« she added gaily.

        He murmured something and withdrew. Trag looked at her expectantly.

        »When the inevitable can no longer be avoided, it is always wise to

accept it gracefully.« She grimaced. »Though I have to admit I despise

student concerts.«

        Lars grinned. »Oh, you won´t be getting the students tonight,

Killa. And in view of what you told me of the origin of Ampris´s party

piece, I eagerly await your critical appraisal. Are you at all musical,

Guildmember?« he asked Trag.

        »Frequently.« Trag carefully replaced the tools in their case,

gestured for Lars to close the crystal container. Killashandra covered the

manual, and taking a hair from her head, wet it and laid it carefully

across one corner of the lid Trag gave a snort that she translated as

approval.

        »Hair of the dog that bit?« Lars asked.

        »Where do you get these sayings?« Killashandra demanded, rolling

her eyes in exaggerated dismay. Then she pointed to his pocket.

        »I´d like to have a close look at that device,« Trag said. Lars

withdrew the little jammer.

        »Trag, I´m trying to get them to believe that it´s me distorting

their monitors.«

        Trag surprised Killashandra by placing his hand flat against her

shoulder blade. »Not any more. But I would qualify. Sensible of you.«

        »How many of the myths about crystal singers are derived from

sensible precautions?« she asked Trag. »Or survival techniques?« Trag

shrugged indifferently.

        Lars deactivated the device as Killashandra opened the door panel

and the three left the loft. Killashandra watched Trag to see if the

acoustics of the Festival auditorium affected him. Trag did not so much as

alter his firm stride or respond to the echoes his vigorous pace produced.

The guards had to scurry to keep up with them.

        Once inside the guest suite which Trag was to share with them, Lars

switched on the Jammer before he passed it over to Trag.

        »They´ve been replacing the monitors in the organ loft every day

but a trill of crystal and they shatter.« Killashandra told Trag as she

made her way to the beverage counter. »A cold glass of the Bascum, Trag?«

        »Please.« Trag returned the jammer to Lars. »What sort of detector

do they have at the shuttleport?«

        »Isotope scanner.« Lars said with a grimace. »The popular theory is

that the detector is set off by a rare isotope of iron peculiar to

Optherian soil. Once the residue of the isotope builds up in the bone

marrow, it tends to be self-perpetuating. There´ve been unsuccessful

attempts to neutralize the isotope and jam the scanners but nothing works.«

Then he scowled. »All the guards are rehabs and never miss. Trying to get

past them is an effective form of suicide. There is also a stun field that

operates in the event that another concerted attempt is ever made to gain

entry to the port.«

        »I was met by four Optherians . . .« Trag began.

        »Who had been passed in. Oh, authorized personnel come and go but

they are very careful to display their authorization to the guards.«

        Killashandra had punched up sandwiches which she now passed to the

men.

        »We don´t have much time before dinner and the concert, and I need

a bath,« she announced, her mouth half full of sandwich.

        »So do I.« Lars followed Killashandra, taking the jammer with him

after an apologetic nod to Trag. »Trag is no threat to us, huh?« Lars

murmured sarcastically, once they were in the unmonitored bathroom.

        Killashandra shrugged and grimaced. »I didn´t think he´d cut up

that stiff, but then, neither of us knew what lies the elders were

spinning. And the Guild does have a reputation to maintain, especially if

they had to call in the FSP to get a cruiser for a fast trip here. But,«

she added, rather pleased, »it means they cared.«

        »I felt I was talking to a brick wall, Killa, until it came down.«

Lars ran his fingers through his thick hair. »What would you have done if

it hadn´t, Killa?«

        »Well, it did and Trag has been converted. Now all we have to do is

get word to your father. Just how many people would we have to get to

safety? I mean, if Trag has that warrant for party or parties . . .«

        Lars framed her face with his hands, grinning down at her. »No

matter how broad that warrant, Killa, it wouldn´t extend to all those who

really need our protection. Nahia, Hauness, Theach, Brassner, and Olver are

just the most important. Why -- «

        »Couldn´t some just disappear into the islands?«

        Lars shook his head.

        »Then we´ll have to hold tight somehow until Trag reports the

subliminal conditioning to the Federated Council. The Fleet Marines would

land, in force, and the Elders would be sampling rehab. You´re safe as long

as I´m here -- and stop shaking your head. Look, Trag can return, now that

the organ is repaired and I´m unabducted -- «

        »Is the cruiser still here?«

        »Oh, I rather doubt it.«

        »Then unless he can recall it, he´s surfaced on Optheria until the

next liner and that´s not due for at least two weeks.«

        »Two more weeks!« Killashandra realized that she had taken for

granted the same constant space traffic that frequented Shanganaugh Moon

Base.

        »What? Have my charming presence and inspired coupling worn thin

now that you have a fellow crystal singer to pair you?«

        »Trag? You think -- Trag and I? Don´t be funny! Listen to me, young

man, there´s a lot you don´t know about crystal singers!«

        »I´d like the time to find out.« His reply was wistful even if the

kiss he gave her was not. And her response to his embrace temporarily

suspended less urgent matters, even the bath.

        Fortunately, by the time Trag knocked peremptorily on the bathroom

door, they were both dressed.

        »Coming,« Killashandra responded in a trill, bestowing one last

kiss on Lars before she hauled open the door. Sweeping dramatically into

the main room with Lars a step behind her, she was delighted to see Trag, a

half empty glass of beer in his hand, in the company of Thyrol, Mirbethan,

and Pirinio. Facetiously wondering if Polabod had been loaned to another

Quartette, she greeted them graciously, exclaiming her eagerness to attend

the evening´s concert and, at long last, hear an Optherian organ.

        Dinner was served in the same chamber that had charmed

Killashandra. The charm was enhanced this time by the fact that Elder

Pentrom was missing from the guest roster. Trag was monopolized at one end

of the table by Elders Ampris and Torkes, who engaged him in very serious

discussions, while Mirbethan did her best to introduce unexceptional topics

into conversation at the other. Thyrol, Pirinio, and two very meek older

women instructors completed the buffer between the Elders and the

distinguished and newly arrived Guild-member Trag.

        »Elder Torkes,« Trag said in a well-pitched voice that carried to

every part of the dining room after he had sipped the beverage in his

glass, »my metabolism requires the ingestion of a certain quantity of

alcohol daily. What have you to offer?«

        After that, Killashandra didn´t bother straining her ears to hear

what information, or misinformation, might be exchanged. Fortunately the

portions served them were considerably more generous, if unexciting to the

palate, than her first dinner there, so that hunger was assuaged.

        There was no reason to dally at the festive board so, immediately

after the sweet course was finished, Mirbethan led the way to the

Conservatory Concert Hall. Those already assembled rose to their feet at

the entrance of the distinguished visitors.

        »Like lambs to the slaughter,« Lars whispered in her ear.

        »Wrong again!« she whispered back, then composed her features in a

gracious expression. Until she had a good look at the seating.

        The organ console, of course, dominated the blue and white stage.

Golden curtains were richly draped to complete the frame which was bathed

in a gentle glow of diffused light. They walked up a slight ramp to the

orchestra floor where Mirbethan smilingly turned and gestured toward their

chairs.

        Bloody inquisition, Killashandra thought to herself. Upholstered in

a mid-blue velvety fabric, the chairs were bucket shaped, semirecumbents

equipped with broad arm rests, sculptured to fit wrist and hand for proper

sensory input. Killashandra did not expect to find an easy repose for over

each seat was a half hood, no doubt containing additional sensory outlets.

As Lars might remark, the occupants of the seats were sitting ducks.

        Nevertheless, and because it was consonant with the role she had

adopted, Killashandra expressed delight over the »ambiance of the hall,«

the charming decor, and the unusual seating. She counted fifteen rows

extending up and into the shadows behind her, all of them filled. She

counted the front-row seats on her side of the entrance as fifteen so that

some four hundred and fifty people, the complement of the Conservatory,

were about to be entertained.

        She took her seat but because of the tilt and the arm rest, the

only part of her that could touch Lars was her foot. She angled so that she

could touch his. She felt a return pressure which gave her far more

reassurance than she should need or had expected to gain from such a

minimal contact.

        The house lights dimmed and Killashandra was filled with a

perturbation she had never experienced before at what was usually the most

enjoyable, anticipatory moment of a performance.

        A woman swirled out onto the stage, her robes flowing out behind

her. She bowed quickly to the assembly and took her place at the organ

console, her back, with its pleated draperies, illuminated by the

spotlight. Killashandra saw her lift her hands to the first manual and then

all the lights went out as the first chord was played.

        Killashandra all but kicked Lars as she recognized the music. In

most Conservatories, a man named Bach would have been credited with its

composition. On Optheria it was unlikely that any sheep safely grazed. Then

the sensory elements began their insidious plucking. It was well done, the

scent of new grass, spring winds, tender green, soothing color, bucolic

fragrances and then -- Lars´s foot tapped hers urgently but she had already

caught the image of the »shepherd,« a glamorized Ampris, a kindly, loving,

affectionate, infinitely tender shepherd, gazing for that one moment upon

members of his »flock.«

        Had Trag failed? Disappointment and a keen flare of apprehension

suffused Killashandra. She forced herself to recall that first glimpse of

this smaller theater. There had to be a second subliminal generator behind

this organ console. Indeed, there was probably one attached to every one of

these insidious instruments. How would they disconnect them all? A second

image, of a grieving Ampris, saddened by a misdemeanor of his flock --

saddened but infinitely tolerant and forgiving -- capped her disgust with

the entire exercise.

        Killashandra caught all of the images that were broadcast, as sharp

and as clear as if a hologram had been suspended for inspection of a tri-d

screen. The subliminals seemed etched on her retina. Something to do with

her symbiont´s rejection of this superimposition?

        When the lights came up, Killashandra elected to seem to be

affected by the performance as she should have been.

        »Guildmember?« Mirbethan asked in a soft eager voice.

        »Why, it was charming. So soothing, such a lovely scene. I declare

that I could smell new grass and spring blossoms.« Lars tried to step on

her toe. She struggled up out of the clutch of her seat and peered around

him. »Why. Lars Dahl, it is everything you told me it would be!« He tapped

twice, getting her message.

        A second performer strode out on the stage, his manner so militant

that Killashandra laid a private bet with herself: one of the Germans or an

Altairian, if Prosno-Sevic´s bombastic compositions had been composed

before the Optherians had settled this planet.

        The music was an uninspired melange of many of the martial themes,

each new one buffeting the captive audience so that she found herself

twitching away from the onslaught of the music, and wondering if she would

survive the subliminals. She did, but her eyeballs ached with visions of

Torkes and an improbably robust Pentrom urging the faithful onto the path

to victory and planetarianism, defending the credo of Optheria to the

death.

        An audible sigh -- of relief? -- preceded the applause this

selection engendered. So the audience was being soothed to trust,

encouraged to resist subversive philosophies: now what, Killashandra

wondered?

        An alarmingly thin and earnest young man, swallowing his Adam´s

apple convulsively as he crossed the stage, was the next performer. He

looked more like a wading bird than a premier organist. And when he took

his seat and lifted his hands, they splayed to incredible lengths, making

the soft opening notes ludicrous to Killashandra´s mind, especially when

she recognized the seductive phrases of a French pianist. The name escaped

her momentarily but the erotic music was quite familiar. She held her

breath against the first image and choked on the howl of laughter as the

subliminal image of Ampris-the-seducer was superimposed, in reds and

oranges, on the viewers´ abused senses. Fortunately, the notion of Ampris

making love to her, or anyone, was so bizarre that the eroticism -- even

magnified by scent and sensory titillation -- failed to achieve its full

effect. Lars´s continual tapping -- was he succumbing to the illusion,

keeping the beat, or trying to distract her from the powerful sensuality --

against her toe kept reminding her how perilous their position was at the

moment.

        Bolero! The name returned to her as the lights came up. And fury at

this arrant manipulation set a flush in her cheeks that matched those in

Mirbethan´s as the delighted woman turned to inquire breathlessly how

Killashandra had enjoyed the concert.

        The seats were all tilting forward, releasing their occupants once

more into the cold cruel world of reality.

        »I have never so totally experienced music before in my life,

Mirbethan,« Killashandra said in ringing, heartfelt tones. What she felt in

her breast was not what the performance was expected to generate. »A

balanced and professional performance. The artists were magnificent.

Excellent adaptations to the Optherian organs.«

        »Adaptations? Oh, no, Guildmember, this was the first performance

of three brilliant new compositions.« Mirbethan said and Killashandra could

only goggle at her.

        »That music was totally original? Composed by the performers?«

Killashandra´s surprised was misinterpreted by Mirbethan as the proper

expression of awe. Lars squeezed her arm warningly and she managed to

contain her outrage.

        »A truly brilliant concert,« Trag said, joining them as the

audience was dispersing. »An experience I would not willingly have

foregone.«

        Never having heard so much warmth in his voice, Killashandra looked

sharply at Trag. Surely, if her symbiont had protected her . . .« Now she

stared at Trag´s flushed face, his bright eyes, and noticed that a smile

had reshaped his lips. Killashandra grabbed at Lars´s arm, before anyone

else could see her dismay, she pulled them both into the crowd, away from

Trag and the two Elders who escorted him

        »Easy, Killa,« Lars murmured in her ear. »Don´t give it away. Not

now!«

        »But he -- «

        His hand twisted her fingers cruelly, reminding her of the danger

they were in.

        »That last piece will send them all to their beds, alone if

necessary,« Lars continued, breaking up the sentence into quick short

phrases as he hurried her away from the hall. »No one is expected to

linger. Not after that dose of eroticism.« They turned a corner,

Killashandra accepting Lars´s direction. »Trag´s coming.«

        »Don´t you understand? No one here composed that music. It was all

stolen!«

        »I know, I know.«

        Yours wasn´t stolen. It was original. The only bloody original

music I´ve heard on this fardling mudball!«

        »Shush now, Killa. Only one more corridor and we´re home safe and

then you can rant and rave.«

        »I get the cold shower first.«

        »What and waste the music?«

        She tried to kick him but they were walking so fast she would have

lost her balance if she´d succeeded.

        »I will not be manipulated . . .« and the last word she roared in

the privacy of their suite. She was hauling the Beluga spidersilk kaftan

over her head as she reached the bathroom door and, flipping on the cold

water, stood in its frigid torrent until she could feel her flesh

shriveling. Lars pulled her out, handing her a towel as he took her place.

        »I think it´s a shame to waste all their hard work and effort -- «

        »Did you want to go to bed with an image of Ampris?« she demanded

at the top of her voice.

        »Oh, I saw Mirbethan,« Lars said ingenuously, toweling himself dry.

        »Mirbethan?«

        »Yes, didn´t you know that was why she was included in your

welcoming committee? She´s bi -- «

        »What?« Killashandra screeched that at the top of her lungs.

        »Compose yourself, Killashandra Ree,« said the cool voice of Trag

from the doorway. »You and Lars Dahl are in every bit as much danger as you

thought. We must talk.«

 

Chapter 22

 

»First,« Trag said as Killashandra and Lars joined him in the main room,

and he pointed to the monitors. Lars held up the jammer. »Very good.

Secondly, I need to hear an account of your adventures here, Killashandra.

Then I can separate the fact from the fiction presented by Ampris and

Torkes. Both are clever men.«

        »A drink, Killa?« Lars asked and his voice was rough with either

anger or anxiety.

        »I would appreciate something stronger than that tasteless beer,

please, Lars Dahl,« Trag said

        »My pleasure. Trag.«

        Killashandra could feel the tension release in her belly and she

let out a lungful of air as Trag´s courteous request gave her a reassuring

measure of his attitude. She took a quick pull at the polly liqueur which

Lars handed her before he sat on the couch, not touching her but with one

arm protectively along the back. She began with her arrival on the Athena

and her suspicions about Corish. Nor was she any less than candid about the

fit of pique with Optherian bureaucracy which had led her to leave the

Conservatory grounds, her subsequent kidnapping, escape, and her second

meeting with the young islander. She was as forthright about Lars´s effect

on her sexuality as she was about the impact Nahia. Hauness, and Theach had

had on her sympathies. Crystal singing tended to peel off unnecessary

veneers and conditioned attitudes, not that she had been afflicted by many,

having been raised on Fuerte.

        During her recitation, Trag had sipped his drink, any reaction

hidden by his hooded eyes. He finished the last of the polly liqueur which

Lars had elected to serve him as she concluded the summary and he gestured

politely to Lars for a refill.

        »They are clever, those old men, but they have not dealt with

crystal singers before,« Trag said. »They have outsmarted themselves this

time. Whom the Gods would destroy, they first make mad.«

        Killashandra regarded Trag in mild astonishment and then Lars,

wondering if his habit was contagious. But Trag´s adage was eminently

applicable.

        Or think themselves impervious to the slings and arrows of outraged

fortune,« Lars said with a mischievous grin. Killashandra groaned in

protest.

        »Tomorrow I shall offer to realign the Conservatory instrument.«

Trag said. »I distinctly heard a burr -- the first sign of a souring

crystal.«

        »Will they permit you?« Killashandra asked.

        »They are greedy. And they have no qualified crystal tuner until we

have trained some. I have already resolved the point that the Guild

contracted to supply the crystals and technical assistance, without

reference to the number of appropriate technicians supplied. Therefore no

further sum is to be paid by them. Until they received that reassurance

from me, they were trying to make out that you were in breach of contract

-- «

        »In breach? Me? When they placed me in jeopardy? First by hiring an

assailant to prove my Heptite origination? Then they hinder me in the

execution of my assignment? And they malign my competence?« Killashandra

quickly switched to malicious amusement. »Not that they will really

appreciate the level of competence we have exhibited! Nor the caliber of

the technical assistance they´ve bought!« She grinned at Trag. »So, what

other knotty problems did you solve at dinner?«

        »Your incorruptible dedication to your Guild.«

        »What!« Killashandra´s irritation rekindled. »Of all the -- «

        Trag held up his hand, a gleam in his eye that suggested to

Killashandra that he was enjoying her discomfiture. Firmly she controlled

herself. It didn´t help to notice, out of the corner of her eye, that Lars

was struggling to suppress his own amusement.

        »Coming as I do from Guildmaster Lanzecki´s office, I am,« Trag

paused unexpectedly, shooting a glance at Killashandra which she could only

interpret as sly, »above reproach. I am also male. Apparently the Elders

trust few women in any but the most traditional or subordinate capacities.

I assured them that not only were you Guildmaster Lanzecki´s first choice

for such a delicate and crucial installation, but you were mine as well.«

        Killashandra sniffed but gave him a long hard look, to remind him

exactly why Killashandra Ree had been Trag´s first choice.

        »Your praise, Guildmember, is only surpassed by your concern for

the welfare of the Guild,« she said demurely.

        »In a matter affecting the Guild reputation, I am, too?

incorruptible,« Trag replied, neatly parrying her thrust.

        »So tomorrow are Lars and I permitted to continue with the Festival

organ?« Trag nodded. »And you will reorganize the second instrument?«

        »In the best interests of the guiding precepts of the Federated

Sentient Planets Council, yes, I certainly shall. Otherwise I assure you

that these Elders would not receive unreimbursed and gratuitous services

from the Heptite Guild.«

        »Bravo!« Lars called.

        »Their greed blinds them,« Trag said. »So, following a recent

example, we shall take the opportunity that is presented,« he added,

nodding toward Lars who returned the compliment. »Basically they have trite

minds. Security, pride, and sex! Imagine! Inflicting such prurience on

tonight´s audience.«

        Killashandra regarded Trag with mild astonishment. The man was

positively garrulous, volunteering comments not to mention uncontracted

services. Or was he simply responding to the backlash of that maladroit

rendition of the Bolero? She´d have thought Trag made of sterner stuff,

especially since he´d been forewarned of the subliminals.

        »Oh, that´s a common diet for the Conservatory,« Lars said. »For

the masses, they have other themes, sometimes so indigestible I wonder how

they can be swallowed, even conditionally. Mainlanders are often subjected

to a spectrum ranging from xenophobia,« Lars began ticking the subjects off

on his fingers, »a fear of races in their own territories, to

claustrophobia to nip any budding interest in space-faring, to fear of

disobedience, fear and disgust of acts that are ‘unnatural,´ fear of

committing an illegal action, rational or not. They´ve even constructed a

negative-feedback loop to inhibit thinking along lines the Elders have

suddenly decided are subversive. A dislike of the color red was achieved a

year or so ago.

        »Then,« and Lars was really warming to his subject, »the tourists

get a different menu: love of the simple life, very little eroticism --

which would follow, wouldn´t it? All sorts of nebulous goodnesses to be

obtained by staying on here. Immense credit balances are constantly flashed

luringly at the most bizarre moments. Naturally the disadvantages aren´t

mentioned at all.«

        »No lecture on Full Disclosure?« Killashandra shot Trag a glance

but he ignored her.

        »Have you a reliable contact in the Conservatory, Lars?« Trag asked

him.

        »I wouldn´t dare contact any of them after tonight´s subliminal

messages. I could try the marketplace -- «

        Trag shook his head. »It was politic to agree with Ampris and

Torkes that you, Killashandra, have undoubtedly fallen under this young

man´s insidious spell.« He raised his hand at Killashandra´s guffaw.

»Neither of you are to be allowed to leave the Conservatory without escort.

For your safety, of course, Killashandra.«

        »Of course!«

        »What works in your favor, though, in this infatuation -- «

        »Trag!«

        »I´m not Ballyblind, Killashandra,« Trag said in a stern voice,

»and, if the Elders consider you two self-absorbed to the exclusion of

other, more treacherous activities, it is a safeguard, however tenuous. At

least while we are still on Optheria.« Trag turned to Lars. »Once we leave,

Lars Dahl, you are in grave jeopardy.«

        Lars nodded and, when Killashandra closed her fingers about his, he

smiled down at her. »All I need is a half-day´s start on any pursuit; no

one will ever find me in the islands.«

        Trag managed to look skeptical without changing a muscle in his

face. »Not this time, I think. This time the islanders are to be

disciplined to a final and total obedience to the Optherian Council.«

        »They have to catch us first,« Lars said calmly, although anger

flared in his eyes and his fingers tightened on Killashandra´s. In an

abrupt change he shrugged. »The threat of wholesale reprisal is scarcely

new.«

        »Trag has that warrant . . .« Killashandra suggested but caught the

obstinate set of Lars´s face.

        »May I remind you, Killashandra,« Trag said, »that a Federated

Council warrant is not a writ one exercises with impunity. If I am forced

to use it, Lars, and whoever else it includes, would be charged with your

abduction and subject to the authority of the FSP Council.«

        »If I don´t press charges, once they´re off Optheria -- «

        »If you perjure yourself in a Council Court, Killashandra Ree, not

even the Heptite Guild can rescue you from the consequences.«

        »I repeat, and listen to me this time.« Lars interrupted firmly,

jiggling Killashandra´s arm for her attention, »I only need a head start

and there isn´t a captain on this planet who could catch me. Look, Trag,

it´s not your affair, but if you´re willing to disorganize the Conservatory

projector, would you consider doing others? There are quite a few

two-manual organs on the Mainland. To have two sabotaged will already be a

considerable boon, but the more Mainlanders who are freed from subliminal

manipulation, the more chance we´d all have of surviving until the

Federated Council moves.

        »The Elders can blandly puff on about disciplining islanders, but

first they have to jizz enough Mainlanders up to the point of a punitive

action. Mainlanders are a passive bunch, after so many years of the pap

they´ve been subjected to.« He grinned maliciously. »You saw last night

which of the three pressures the audience responded to the most -- Not the

martial pride! So, psyching a punitive force up would take time, a clever

program, and sufficient audience saturation. The smaller the net the

subliminals cast, the longer it will take the Elders to mount any sort of

expedition to the islands.

        »Now,« and Lars leaned forward urgently, »you and Killa have to

make a report to the Federated Council? Well, I would find it hard to

believe that any Council acts fast. Right?«

        Trag nodded. »Speed is determined by the physical threat to the

planet involved.«

        »Not to the population?« Killashandra asked, surprised at Trag´s

emphasis.

        Trag shook his heavy head. »Populations are easy to produce, but

habitable planets are relatively scarce.« He indicated that Lars should

continue.

        »So, your report will be considered, deliberated upon, and then?«

        »It may indeed take time, Lars Dahl, but the Federated Council has

outlawed the use of subliminal conditioning. There is absolutely no

question in my mind that action will be taken against the Optherian Elders.

A government which must resort to such means to maintain domestic

satisfaction has lost the right to govern. Its Charter will be revoked.«

        »There´s no danger that you and Killashandra will be restrained

from leaving?« Lars asked abruptly.

        »Why should we be? Can they have any suspicion that someone knows

that they maintain control by illicit means?«

        »Comgail did,« Killashandra said, »even if he was killed before he

could pass on the information. Whoever killed the man must wonder if

Comgail had accomplices.«

        Lars shook his head positively. »Comgail´s only contact was Hauness

and Hauness didn´t reveal that until after Comgail´s death. I knew that

some drastic measure was planned. Not what it was.«

        »Tell me, Lars,« Trag asked, »does any one suspect that you are

aware of the subliminals?«

        Lars shook his head vigorously. »How? I always pretended the

correct responses after concerts. Father didn´t warn me until I was sent to

the Mainland for my education. His warning was accompanied by a description

of the retribution I would suffer, from him as well as the Council, if I

ever revealed my knowledge unnecessarily.« Lars grinned. »You may be sure I

told no one«

        »Besides your father, who knows?« Trag asked. »Or don´t you know

that?«

        Lars nodded. »Hauness and his intimates. As a trained

hypnotherapist, he caught on to the subliminals but had the sense to keep

silent. It is quite possible that others in his profession know it, but if

they do, they don´t broadcast it either. What could they do? Especially

when I doubt that many Optherians know that subliminals are against

Federated Law!« The last was spoken in a bitter tone. »Who would suspect

that music, the Ultimate Career on Optheria, can be perverted to ensure the

perpetuation of a stagnant government? Then there was the almost insoluble

problem of trying to get word off Optheria, to someone with sufficient

status to get Council attention. Complaint from people who could be

considered a few maladjusted citizens -- and every society has some --

carries little weight.

        »It was Hauness who devised a way to get messages off Optheria for

us. Post hypnotic requests -- yes, yes, I know, and don´t think it was an

easy matter for him to violate his ethics as a physician-healer, but we

were getting desperate. A suggestion to receive and later mail a letter

from the nearest transfer point seemed a minor infraction. I am certain

that Hauness only capitulated because Nahia was suffering so much distress.

She had to cope with such a devastating increase of suicide potentials.

She´s an empath, Trag -- «

        »You must encounter Nahia, Trag, before you leave Optheria,«

Killashandra said, twining her fingers reassuringly about Lars´s. He gave

her a quick and grateful glance.

        »That´s why, if you would go to Ironwood to check out the organ

there, you would surely encounter Nahia and Hauness,« Lars said eagerly.

        »I would?« Trag asked.

        »Quite likely, if you were suddenly taken ill.«

        Trag regarded him steadily. »Crystal singers do not succumb to

planet-based diseases.«

        »Not even food poisoning?« Lars was not to be deterred.

        »And that´s a likelihood if you eat often with the Elders. Or do I

mean starvation?« Killashandra remarked.

        »That way, you can warn Nahia and Hauness, and they can alert

others.« Lars leaned forward, eagerly waiting for Trag´s decision. »I

couldn´t save myself at the expense of my friends.«

        »How large a group do you have, Lars Dahl?« Trag asked.

        »I don´t know at the moment. We had about two thousand, and more

were being investigated. The Elder´s search and seize to find Killashandra

reduced our ranks considerably.« Regret for having provoked the Elders to

such action colored Lars´s expression. He squared his shoulders, accepting

that responsibility. »I fervently hope more sacrifices will not be

required.«

        »Do your islanders perpetrate many outrages on the Main land?«

        »Outrages on the Mainland?« Lars burst out laughing. »We leave the

Mainland to stew in its own juice! If you wish to punish an island child,

you threaten to send him to a Mainland school. What crimes were being laid

on our beaches?«

        »Crimes hinted at darkly but never specified, apart from the attack

on Killashandra -- «

        »Ampris instigated that -- « Killashandra said angrily.

        »And her abduction.«

        »And I have laid that firmly on the shoulders of unknown

malfeasants. I thought they´d bought that.«

        »They might have if the attachment between you and Lars Dahl was

not so apparent, almost as if you were in resonance with each other.

However,« and Trag went on quickly, »Torkes contended that young Lars Dahl

could scarcely have found you so conveniently if he had not known where you

were. The islands being so numerous and widespread he does not accept

coincidence.«

        »I think Torkes is in for a large surprise on the mechanics of

coincidence,« Killashandra said in her most caustic tone. She had poured

another stiff drink for herself, trying to dull anger and indignation.

»Trag, I don´t see why the Federated Council cannot act expeditiously -- «

        »This planet is not threatened by destruction.«

        »Our much vaunted Federated Council is not much better than the

Elders Council, is it?«

        »I will do everything in my power, Lars Dahl, to ensure the

physical and psychological integrity of your adherents,« Trag said. »And if

that includes servicing every instrument on this planet, I will do that,

too.« A slight shift of the alignment of his lips gave him an appearance of

smiling. »Greed provokes me. And all this talk has made me thirsty. What is

this?« he asked, obliquely requesting a refill.

        »The fermented juice of the ubiquitous polly fruit.« Lars said,

serving him. »The Elders may complain about the islands but they are its

best customers.«

        »Tell me again about the security arrangements at the shuttle

port,« Trag went on. »A liner is due in two weeks´ time. I should like to

have you both on it.«

        »There´s more chance of sailing a straight course in the islands,

Trag,« Lars said, shaking his head discouragingly. »If anyone had been able

to discover a flaw in the security curtain at the shuttle port, it would

have been done. My father had the unique honor of adjusting the screens to

prevent a mass attack. Father came here on a short-term contract to provide

security micro-units for the Optherian Council. Father was co-opted by the

Federated Council because of his expertise with microchip installations.

The Federation wanted him to find out why another agent had never reported

back to them. But, while he was installing the chips, he didn´t have much

luck with the covert assignment. So when the Optherians offered him the

shuttleport contract, he took it. No one mentioned the fact that three to

four months was the longest it was safe to stay on Optheria without getting

trapped. When he realized that he was, and even he couldn´t get past the

shuttleport curtain, he talked himself into his position as Angel Island

Harbor Master. Far enough away from the shuttleport to satisfy the Elders,

and far enough away for him to feel safe from them.«

        »How is cargo transferred?« Trag asked.

        »What little there is, is unloaded through the main passenger lock,

which is operated by the shuttle pilots, true and loyal, incorruptible

citizens of Optheria. The only way into the shuttleport is past the

detector´s arc. And if the detector is set off without first presenting the

right pass to those rehabbed guards,« he made a popping sound, »you´re

dead.«

        »Ah, but Thyrol was right beside me as we left the port, Lars,«

Killashandra said, » And the arc did not go off. Yet you say that it goes

off whenever the mineral residue is detected.«

        »Crystal resonance might mask or confuse the detector,« Trag

remarked, choosing his words slowly. »For the same thing occurred, and with

Thyrol beside me, when I exited the port.«

        »Why don´t we just boldly go under the fardling arc then? Both of

us with Lars between.«

        »You no longer resonate, Killashandra,« Trag said.

        »Besides, that only helps me, Killa. I won´t leave the others

vulnerable to the Elder´s reprisals.«

        »Impasse!« Killashandra threw her hands out in disgust but she had

to admire Lars´s stand. »Wait a minute. I may not resonate, but white

crystal does. Trag, they blow out the monitors at the sound of an A. Won´t

crystal resonance affect other piezoelectrical equipment? I know it´d be

folly to try to blow out the shuttleport detector . . . .«

        »That´s been tried, too, Killa.« Lars interrupted her with a rueful

grin.

        »Trag? -- If crystal resonance provides a mask . . .«

        »I should not like to put it to the test and fail.«

        Killashandra turned to Lars. »You said something about your father

being able to detect Council agents. Does he have a unit?«

        »A small one.«

        »If we had it, we could test crystal resonance with it. We´ve got

all those crystal shards, Trag, and you know how interactive white is.«

        »First we have to contact my father,« Lars said with an ironic

laugh, »then get him and the device here. Oh, it´s not large but certainly

not something you carry bare-faced through City streets.« But, even as Lars

spoke in pessimistic terms, it was clear to Killashandra that she had

revived his hopes. »All the more reason, Trag, for, you to get to Ironwood

and make contact with Nahia and Hauness. They´ve got the oceanjet. They

could discreetly bring Father and the device as far as Ironwood.«

        »There are no other embarkation clearances at the shuttleport?«

Trag asked.

        Lars shook his head slowly. »No other beside the security curtain

has ever been needed. You forget, Trag, that loyal, happy, natural

Optherians have no desire to leave their planet. Only tourists, who can buy

tickets anywhere, so long as they´ve enough credit.«

        »Then,« and Trag got to his feet, carefully putting the glass down

on the nearest surface, »patently I must oblige both you and the greedy

Elders. Good night.«

        Killashandra watched, wondering if the polly had got to the

impervious Trag but his step was as firm and unswerving as ever. She saw

that Lars was watching his progress, a very thoughtful expression on his

face.

        »If this idea works, Killa,« he said, taking her in his arms, his

eyes on that distant prospect, »is there enough crystal to get six or seven

people off Optheria?«

        »Don´t hope too hard, Lars!« she cautioned him, her head against

his shoulder, her arms about him. »Nor can we schedule a mass exodus on the

next liner without giving the whole scheme away. But if crystal resonance

fools the scanner, the most vulnerable people will get free. The Festival

season hasn´t even started. When it does, a few one-way passengers could go

out on each flight.« She looked up and caught the bleak look on his face.

»Lars, dance with me?«

        »To a distant drum?« he asked with a rueful grin, but he shortly

sloughed off depression.

 

        The next morning Killashandra woke to the second chimes and to an

interesting idea.

        »Lars, Lars, wake up.«

        »Why?« and he attempted to pull her back down on the bed, murmuring

suggestions.

        »No, I´m serious. We responded to the subliminals last night,

didn´t we? How long are they supposed to be effective?«

        »Huh? I dunno. I´ve never . . . Oh, I see what you mean!« And he

sat up, linking his arms about his raised knees and considering the

implications. »We never took last night´s performance into our

deliberations, did we?« He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then grinned at

her. »I´d say we could work this to our advantage. Security, pride, and

sex, huh!« Lars began to laugh, a mirth which developed into such a

paroxysm that he fell back on the bed and hauled his knees up to his chin

to relieve the muscular cramp of uncontrollable laughter.

        Trag appeared in the doorway, pointed to the ceiling monitor and,

when Killashandra pointed to the jammer on the table, he came in and shut

the door, regarding Lars expressionlessly.

        »We got conditioned last night, Trag,« Killashandra said by way of

explanation as she hauled her coverall on. »I don´t think I should overdo

it, but if Lars wants to act disaffected with me, it will lull Ampris and

Torkes into thinking their programming´s effective. Even on a crystal

singer. Trag, I could even stay on here . . . not want to leave Optheria.

I´m a musician. If last night is the best they can do, just lead me to a

keyboard! I´ll show ‘em some sensory music that´ll knock ‘em in the

aisles.«

        Trag shook his head slowly from side to side. »Risky for any number

of reasons which I shouldn´t have to enumerate.«

        Brushing laugh tears from his eyes, Lars was still grinning broadly

as he reached for his clothes.

        »So what was so funny?« Killashandra asked.

        »Mirbethan as a sex image when I have you!«

        »I´m not sure I needed to know that!« Killashandra stalked into the

main room and up to the catering unit. She punched out her selection so

hard that the tab stuck and a succession of beverage cups paraded out.

Fortunately the mechanism was programmed against excessive use and the

emergency panel flashed »quota« at her as the depressed button snapped out

again.

        »Put Ampris in my place and what do you have?« Lars wanted to know

and his voice was just a shade repentant.

        »Nausea.« she handed him a cup from the plentiful supply waiting on

the catering facility.

 

Chapter 23

 

They had just finished eating when the comunit blipped. Killashandra

flicked open the channel. Mirbethan appeared, looking both annoyed and

hesitant. Killashandra schooled her face to courteous inquiry.

        »My apologies for disturbing you so early, Guild-member . . .« she

did not continue until Killashandra had murmured reassurance, »but a

citizen has been most persistent in trying to contact you . . . We have

assured him that you are not to be disturbed by trivia. He insists on

speaking with you personally and his attitude borders on the insolent.«

Mirbethan closed her mouth primly on the verdict.

        »Well, well, what´s his name?«

        »Corish von Mittelstern. He says that he met you on board the

Athena.« Mirbethan obviously doubted this.

        »Indeed he did. A pleasant young man who knows nothing of my Guild

affiliation. Put him through.«

        Corish´s image immediately replaced Mirbethans. He was frowning but

his expression cleared into a broad smile once he saw Killashandra.

        »Thank Krim I got you, Killashandra. I was beginning to doubt that

you ever existed, with that Conservatory playing it so cozy. I never heard

of a Conservatory monitoring the calls of a student.«

        »They´re very careful and they prefer your complete dedication to

your studies here.«

        »You mean, you´ve been allowed to play on one of those special

organs?«

        Killashandra affected a girlish giggle. »Me? No. But I heard the

most marvelous recital on the Conservatory´s two-manual sensory organ last

night. You wouldn´t believe how versatile it is, how powerful, how

stimulating. Corish, you´ve simply got to get to one of the concerts before

you leave. The public ones will be starting soon, they tell me, but I could

see if it´s possible to get you to one here at the Conservatory. You really

have to hear the Optherian organ, Corish, before you can possibly

understand what it´s like for me.« Someone pinched her arm. Well, maybe she

was overdoing it a trifle but enthusiasm was not out of order. »Have you

found your uncle yet?«

        Corish´s expression altered from the skeptical to the dolorous.

»Not yet.«

        »Oh, dear, how very disappointing.«

        »Yes, it is. And I´ve only two more weeks before I´m scheduled to

leave. The family is going to be upset about my failure. Look,

Killashandra, I know you´re studying hard, and this is a chance of a

lifetime for you, but could you spare me an evening?« Killashandra gave

Corish full marks for a fine performance.

        »Oh, Corish, you sound so discouraged. Yes, I´m sure I can wangle

an evening out. I don´t think there´s a concert tonight. I´ll find out. I´m

not a prisoner here.«

        »I should hope not,« Corish said Stiffly.

        »Look, where can I reach you?«

        »The Piper Facility,« Corish replied as if there were no other

suitable place in the City, »where you said, and he emphasized the word,

»that you´d leave a message for me. I was concerned when there´d been no

word at all from you. Food´s not bad here but they won´t serve anything

drinkable. Typical traveler hostel. I´ll see if they can recommend some

place a little more Optherian. This isn´t a bad world, you know. I´ve met

some sterling people, very helpful, very kind.« Then his expression

brightened. »You check and leave word at the Facility only if you can´t

make it. Otherwise, come here at seven thirty. You have enough funds for

ground transport, don´t you?« Now he was the slightly condescending, well

traveled adult, older sibling.

        »Of course I do. You sound just like my brother,« she replied

cheerfully. »See you!« And she broke the connection, turning to Trag and

Lars. »That sort of solves one problem, doesn´t it?«

        »Does it?« Trag asked darkly.

        »I think so,« Lars replied. »Corish has an unlimited travel pass,

issued by Elder Pentrom. His credentials must have come from very highly

placed Federationists for that kind of assistance.«

        »More likely, his uncle´ is due to inherit a sizable hunk of credit

of which the Optherian government will get its own share.« Killashandra

suggested. Lars nodded. »And if his cover has been that good, it´s unlikely

the Elders have tumbled to his true identity so he could get in touch with

anyone we need, including Olav Dahl! Or Nahia or Hauness.«

        »What concerns me,« Lars said, his eyes clouded with anxiety, »is

why he´s getting in touch with you right now. He must have come back to the

City from Ironwood -- and Nahia and Hauness. Maybe they´re in Jeopardy. So

many people were picked up on the search and seize . . .«

        Killashandra put a reassuring hand on Lars´s arm. »I think somehow

Corish would have managed to intimate that.«

        »I think he did by not admitting to finding his uncle.«

        »If he admitted to having found his uncle,« Trag said, unexpectedly

joining forces with Killashandra to reassure Lars, »he would no longer have

any need to use that travel pass, and if he´s as good a Council agent as he

seems to be, he wouldn´t surrender that option.«

        Lars accepted that interpretation with a nod of his head and

pretended to be reassured.

        »We´ll know soon enough,« Killashandra said kindly.

        »Well, when you meet Corish this evening,« Lars said, »walk to

whichever restaurant he´s been recommended. That way you have some chance

of open talk. The Piper is certain to recommend The Berry Bush or

Frenshaw´s. Neither are far from the Piper, but both restaurants are run by

Optherians, loyal and true to the Elders, so you´ll be under observation.

The food´s pretty good.« Lars gave her an encouraging grin.

        »Then I´m taking the jammer, too. Got to keep them thinking it´s me

that causes the static. Well, they should have had enough time to digest

Corish´s innocuous conversation.« So Killashandra tapped out a sequence on

the comunit. »Mirbethan, is there a concert tonight? I shouldn´t want to

miss any but von Mittelstern has invited me to dinner tonight, and I´ve

accepted. I don´t want him to come charging up here and discover I´m more

than the simple music student he thinks me, so I´ll settle his doubts.«

        Whatever Mirbethan thought was disguised by her reassurances that

no concert was scheduled.

        »Then please arrange transport for me this evening. By the way,

when is the next concert? I´m fascinated by the organ effects. Fabulous

concert last night. The most unusual one I´ve ever attended.«

        »Tomorrow evening, Guildmember.« Mirbethan´s reply was gracious,

but Killashandra noticed the slightly smug turn to the woman´s faint smile.

        »Good.« Killashandra broke the connection. »Offense is the best

defense, Guildmember,« she added, turning to Trag. »You didn´t have to

promise the Elders that you´d discipline me for my emotional aberration,

did you? Well, then, it´s business as usual for me in a normal fashion

which means I come and go, whether they trail me or not. Right? And since

I´m disaffected with you,« and Killashandra kissed Lars´s cheek, »I´ll go

alone. Unless, Trag, you want to come and meet Corish.«

        »I might, at that,« Trag said, half-closing his eyes a moment.

        »That gives me the chance to moon after Mirbethan,« Lars said

slyly.

        Killashandra guffawed and wished him luck.

        »Now let us attend our duties,« Trag said, gesturing for

Killashandra to precede them to the door.

        When they reached the Festival Auditorium, a large contingent of

security men was loosely scattered about the stage, concentrated near the

organ console, which was open. Two men were fussing about the keyboard but

Killashandra couldn´t tell whether they were dusting or adjusting the keys.

Suddenly Elder Ampris detached himself from the gaggle and took a few steps

forward to meet them.

        »Don´t overdo it, Killa,« Lars murmured at her, aiming a slightly

fatuous grin at the Elder.

        »After last night, Elder Ampris, I wonder at my audacity in

suggesting that I play on any Optherian organ,« she said, and felt Lars´s

admonitory pinch on the tender inside flesh of her arm. Unnecessary, she

felt, since she had forced herself to employ a meek and sincere tone of

voice.

        »You enjoyed the concert?«

        »I have never heard anything like it,« she said, which was no more

than the truth. »Truly an experience. Mirbethan tells me there´ll be

another one tomorrow evening. I do hope that we´ll be invited?«

        »Of course you are, my dear Killashandra,« Elder Ampris replied,

his eyes glittering almost benignly at her.

        She limited herself to a happy smile and continued on to the organ

loft door.

        »A word with you, Elder Ampris,« Trag began, his anxious frown

attracting the Elder´s instant attention.

        Killashandra and Lars continued into the organ loft.

        »You pinched far too hard!«

        »You wouldn´t fool me, Killa!«

        »Well, I did fool him,« and hiding her gesture from observation,

she pointed to the hairless corner of the manual cabinet.

        »Jammer on?« she asked.

        »The moment I finished pinching.«

        »Brackets, please!«

        They had already positioned the first of the final slender crystals

when Trag and Elder Ampris entered.

        »Only five more crystals and this installation is complete.« Trag

was saying to Ampris. »I know that Killashandra is well aware that these

upper register notes require the finest tuning.« Killashandra nodded,

receiving his tacit message. »I will check the brackets on that sour

crystal in the Conservatory organ and be back here in time for the

tune-up.«

        Killashandra was hoping that Elder Ampris would leave them to the

task but he elected to remain, observing every movement. Killashandra hated

to be overseen under any circumstances, and to have Ampris´s gimlet eyes on

her made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She was annoyed, too,

because Ampris´s presence put the damper on any conversation between

herself and Lars. She had enjoyed the bantering exchanges which relieved

the tedium and tension of this highly precise work. So she felt doubly

aggrieved to be denied a morning of matching wits with Lars Dahl. They

would have so little time left to enjoy each other´s company.

        Therefore, it gave her a great deal of vicarious pleasure to spin

out the last final bracketings, giving Trag ample time to make his

alterations on the Conservatory program. And deliberately irritating Elder

Ampris with her persnickety manipulations. He was in a state of nervous

twitch when she and Lars tightened the last bracket.

        »There!« she said on a note of intense satisfaction. »All right and

tight!« She picked up the hammer and, seized by a malicious whimsy, struck

the first note of the Beethoven motif. Out of the corner of her eye, she

saw Ampris start forward, one hand raised in protest, his face drained of

all color. She went up the scale, and then, positioning the hammer on the

side of the crystal shafts, descended the 44 notes in a glissando. »Clear

as the proverbial bell and not a vibration off the tune. A good

installation, if I say so myself.«

        Killashandra slid the hammer into its space in the tool-box and

brushed her fingertips lightly together. She released the damper on the

striking base of the crystals and replaced the top. »I don´t think we´ll

fasten it just yet. Now, Elder Ampris, the moment of truth!«

        »I would prefer that Guildmember Trag -- «

        »He can´t play! Doesn´t even read music,« Killashandra said,

deliberately misinterpreting Elder Ampris. Lars pinched her left flank, his

strong fingers nipping into the soft flesh of her waistline. She would have

kicked back at him if she could have done so unobserved. »But I suppose you

would feel more secure if he was to vet the completed installation,« she

added, giving Ampris a timorous smile more consonant to someone in the

thrall of subliminal conditioning than her previous declaration.

        Trag´s reappearance was fortuitous.

        »Just as I suspected, Elder Ampris, a loose bracket on the middle

G. I checked both manuals thoroughly.«

        Ampris regarded Trag with a moment´s keen suspicion. »You don´t

play,« he said.

        »No.«

        »Then how can you tune crystal?«

        Killashandra laughed aloud. »Elder Ampris, every would-be crystal

singer has perfect and absolute pitch or they can´t get into the Heptite

Guild. Guildmember Trag doesn´t need to be a trained musician. Guildmaster

Lanzecki isn´t either. One of the reasons I was chosen for this assignment

is because I am -- and trained in keyboard music. Now, Trag, if you will

inspect the installation?« She and Lars lifted off the cover.

        Trag was not above giving Ampris a second fright for he tapped out

three of the Beethoven notes in the soprano register before altering the

sequence to random notes. Then he did each note in turn, listening until

the exquisite sound completely died before hitting the next crystal.

        »Absolutely perfect,« he said, handing her the hammer.

        »Now, with your permission, Elder Ampris,« Killashandra began, »I

would like to use the organ keyboard.« When she saw his brief hesitancy,

she added. »It would be such an honor for me and it would only be the

sonics. After last night´s performance, I would be brash indeed to attempt

any embellishments.«

        Bowing stiffly to the inevitable, Elder Ampris gestured for her to

proceed from the loft. Not that she could have done anything to damage the

actual organ keyboard, and live, with so many security guards millimeters

from her. As she took her seat, pretending to ignore the battery of eyes

and sour expressions, she decided against any of the Beethoven pieces she

remembered from her Fuertan days. That would be risking more than her

personal satisfaction was worth. She began to power up the various systems

of the organ, allowing the electronic circuits to warm up and stabilize.

She also discarded a whimsical notion to use one of Lars´s themes. She