Crystal Line

Being aboard the BB-lO66 had other advantages besides excellent nursing care and incredible food. Rudney could not get to her, though he demanded interviews on an hourly basis, insisting that she finish installing the crystal according to the contract he had made with the Guild Master. He threatened to sue her and the Guild for breach of contract.

"Tell him I installed the crystals as per the contract. Nothing in it said I had to do the old splinters, too. And I won't."

When Rudney exhorted the 1066 to turn the crystal singer over to him, Brendan informed him that he had no such authority over his passengers.

They remained on Opal's surface only long enough to be sure Killa had sufficiently recovered from the physical depletion to withstand the disorientation of a Singularity Jump. Then Brendan lifted his tail from the planet.

After the second of the three Jumps, curiosity got the better of Killashandra. She wanted to know what had happened to Big Hungry after it had gobbled the black crystal. Maybe that would distract her mind from a constant survey of memories she really didn't want to have on replay.

"Rudney's group haven't come to any conclusions," Brendan said, having discreetly continued to monitor all their transmissions and internal conversation. "They're still examining their data. Thermoelectric emissions have gone off the scale of their instrumentation. Significant growth of all the FM units—"

"Jewels, please, Bren, or Junk," Boira interposed.

"They seem to be oozing into every available cave, crack, crevice, cra

"Junk is using the crystals for communication then?" Killa asked.

"It would appear so," Brendan said, "though to what end, Rudney's group doesn't know. Their semanticist is analyzing the frequency and consistency of patterns, and the rhythm at which they flow, which varies."

"Klera was correct?" Killa asked, quite delighted at the thought.

"They won't commit themselves," Brendan said in a mildly snide tone of voice.

"Naturally. They don't deny the sentience of Junk, do they?"

"They can't when it is obviously altering its environment," Boira said, gri

"For all the good it'll do him," Killa said caustically.

"Fifteen minutes to the last Jump," Brendan said, and Killa scurried to the radiant-fluid tank.

Lars was waiting for her at Shankill, his worried expression clearing when he saw her striding down the corridor toward him. He embraced her hungrily, burying his face in her hair, his fingers biting into her shoulder blades and then her waist. She leaned into him, grasping him as tightly as he did her. He was warm, strong, and just as lean as he had been when they first met so many years ago on Optheria. The essential Lars Dahl hadn't changed . . . she cut off the other memories that threatened to swamp her. She was getting the hang of censoring recall when she had all she needed. Otherwise all that memory could be overwhelming.

"Honest, Su

"You didn't ask anything," she said, surprised. "I volunteered. Remember?"

He held her off, his expression wretched. "Su

She reviewed the occasion quickly, laughed, and pulled him back to her. "So you did, but I didn't resist much, did I?"

"How could you, crystal-mazed as you were?" He was so miserably repentant that she chuckled.

"At least you have the grace to apologize," she said. "Lanzecki never did."

She felt the change in him, and this time when he held her away, he apprehensively searched her face.

"What happened, Su

"It would appear—" She gave a breathless laugh. "—that Big Hungry Junk reco

"Muhlah!" Lars stared at her, appalled.

"And I thought placing that Trundomoux King crystal was bad. The merest piffle in comparison. It's all right, love," she reassured him as she saw his eyes blink frantically. "Now let's get back to Ballybran which, incidentally, I have never been more glad to see. By the way, did you get Rudney off your back?"

"I did, finally! I had to threaten to sue him for placing my best singer in jeopardy. And you got all your memories back?" She knew that he had briefly assumed his Guild Master's role. "Maybe I should send another singer in . . ."

"Lars Dahl!" She stopped dead in her tracks, pulling him off balance. "Don't you dare, Lars Dahl, don't you dare consider for one moment sending any member of the Guild to Opal for any reason!"

"Was it that bad, Su

"Was, is, and shall be, I suspect, my love, but I can handle it." She anticipated his next question. "And yes, as a bonus, I can give you the coordinates of every single claim I ever cut. I can't wait to get that off my mind." She began to hurry him along to the airlock where his shuttle awaited them.

" All your coordinates?"

"That's right."

She would explain the other side of that coin to him later, and as gently as possible. Maybe out sailing in Angel II. Then she had to cope with a flood of memories, all associated with the word "angel": sailing to Island Angel's back, the storm, sheltering in the command post, meeting Nahia and Hauness, meeting his father, Olav, marrying Lars formally by island rites . . . Ruthlessly she cut off the stream; resolutely she closed down those reminiscences.

Lars handed her into the cabin of the shuttle and would have fastened her harness; but, laughing, she slapped at his hands, saying she could do it herself.

"Oddest thing, Lars," she said in a low tone so that Flicken, the pilot, wouldn't hear. She was going to freak a lot of folk out by suddenly remembering their names, she thought, amused. She forced her errant mind back to what she had to tell Lars. "Big Junk recognized me. I remembered that little bit during the last Singularity Jump. I don't mean it said 'hello', but I think I was aware of its recognition when I got to its cavern the first time. That's why I panicked and did Three first."

"Hmmm. Interesting."

"Yeah." She smiled in a somewhat maudlin fashion. "I'm glad we put its piece back."

"Is that what it remembered?"

She shrugged. "Who knows what passes for memory with Junk? Rudney certainly doesn't and we decided—"

"We who?"

"Brendan, Boira, and me . . . decided that Klera had the right idea about the patterns being part of the communication effort."

"Pattern and rhythm?"

"Pattern, rhythm, and color."

"Hmmm. Complex."

"Too much for this back-planet girl."

"You remember everything?" he asked, dismayed for her sake.

She nodded. "But I'm learning to chop 'em off before they overwhelm me. Too much is not a good thing."

"Hmmm."

He laced his fingers in hers, and she let her head roll to rest on his shoulder. She had been exceedingly lucky to have been kidnapped by Lars Dahl. She hadn't really had any guide by which to measure that serendipity or realize how truly Donalla had spoken when she said that Lars was devoted to her. She could see it now, in the tapestry of their years together—all hundred and twenty-three of them, incredible as that total was—that he had been more than friend, lover, partner, and alter ego. She remembered how devastated, how lost, she had been when he had been falsely disciplined for the Optherian affair . . . She remembered, with great relish, their first sexual encounter on the beach at Angel—and, more importantly, how the mutual attraction had only strengthened and deepened throughout the years. "Everlasting love" took on a new dimension when applied to what she and Lars shared.