Crystal Singer

CHAPTER 12

Killashandra made good use of her next five days, having Tic or Tac lead her on exercise walks about the cruiser, dropping hints about the exacting nature of her work and how she had to keep fit. The silicate spider preparing its web for a Passover sleep. She had a few uncomplimentary thoughts about the Guild, mainly Lanzecki, for sending her among the uninformed without a hint that the Trundimoux were so parochial.

She did a great deal of listening to the subordinates when they relaxed enough to talk in her presence and to the general conversations, mostly good-natured slagging among work teams. She learned a great deal about the short and awesome history of the Trundimoux system and stopped referring to them as Trundies in the privacy of her thoughts.

As it had Pendel, the system had attracted many restless and adventurous people, a percentage of them either physically or temperamentally unsuited to the hazards. The survivors bred quickly and hugely, and natural selection again discarded the weaknesses and the weaker, some of whom could usefully work in the relative safety of the larger mining units. The second generation, who survived the rigors of knocking likely chunks of the suburanic metals out of orbit and jockeying their payloads into long drone strings, those hardy souls perpetuated their genes and became yet another variant of human. This system was, in its own way, as unique as Ballybran's, its entrance requirements as stringent and its workers as rigorously trained.

One night while juggling those elements in her mind the dangers of space as opposed to the physical tests on Shankill – Killashandra waxed philosophical. The galaxy was not merely physical satellites circling flaming primaries but overlapping and intertwining metaphysical ones. She was currently the bridge between two such star systems and two totally opposite mental attitudes. She'd use the charm of one to survive in the other.

The Trundimoux had already developed some strong traditions, the evening's solemn dedication of the officers to their system's survival, the worship of water, a callousness toward death, a curious distrust of out-system manufactured equipment. This, Killashandra thought, was why they were so assiduously altering the 78's interior. Then, after she'd seen some tri-di-s of the mining stations and the spacebuilt edifices themselves, she understood. In a spatial sense, the Trundimoux were adapting constantly to the needs of their hostile environment. In another, they were refusing to admit that any other system, hers included, had something worthwhile to offer them that couldn't be improved on.

Killashandra listened, too, to subtler opinions on the wisdom of instant interstellar communications. Some were skeptical that the crystals would work, due, it was claimed, to some peculiarity of the Trundimoux system that was designed to keep them isolated. Others thought it a shocking waste of time, effort, and precious metal – credit. The division of thought split age groups, first, and second generation representatives, and even contracted extraplanetaries on local assignment.

Meanwhile, the cruiser was fast closing with its home system on its hyperbolic trajectory. Killashandra's appetite had leveled off, a relief to herself as well as to Pendel's dwindling supply of her requirements. Passover was occurring over Ballybran, and conjunction was as imminent as her first installation. She judiciously kept the stimulant tabs on her person.

The change in the crystal drive tone heralded her first unexpected nap. Tic's insistent tapping on her door panel roused her.

“Captain Francu's compliments, Killashandra Ree, and would you follow me to the bridge?”

Tic was suddenly very formal, not so much as a shy answering smile to Killashandra's acknowledgment. She followed the sub, much refreshed by her sleep, but she felt for the stimutabs in her sash pocket.

The bridge, a misnamed cavern midship, was busy and full. Tic found the captain among those circled about the dimension tank, caught his attention, presented Killashandra, and retreated.

“If you will observe the tank, Guild Member,” the captain began at his most overbearing.

“I would if I could,” Killashandra said, and smiling sweetly, inserted her hip between two male bodies and with a deft twist pushed the men sideways so that she occupied their previous vantage point. She left one officer between her and Francu, consoling the startled man with a soothing glance. “Ah, yes, fascinating.” She was fascinated, though she wanted to give the distinct impression that this was scarcely the first time she had been on a bridge or gazed at a dimension tank. The cruiser was a very tiny blip, coasting inward, past the orbit of the outermost planet, toward the primary. Blinking lights indicated major mining stations in the asteroid belts; two tiny solid lights, the two moon bases. The bright planet, fourth from the primary, exuded a supercilious superiority despite being the last to be settled in the hard-working system.

"We are coasting now, Guild Member, if you haven't noticed the change of the drive – "

«A Crystal Singer is unusually sensitive to crystal drive, Captain – an occupational skill.»

Francu set his jaw, unused to being interrupted for any reason.

"We are traveling on a hyperbolic course that will intersect the orbit of the two mining stations, which have deviated from their courses to meet us – "

"Sometimes progress can be awkward – "

Francu glared at her. "The moon bases provide no problem on their relative planes, though Terris will require a longer shuttle flight – "

“You will have a far more difficult maneuver in catching up with your planet, won't you?” and Killashandra pointed.

“Not at all,” and it was Francu's turn to be scornful. “Merely a question of braking, using the planetary attraction, pick up the sun's gravitic pull marginally, deflect away and on to our next destination.”

“How very clever of you.” Killashandra winced inwardly, wondering why the man's simplest explanation evoked the worst side of her nature.

«You must realize, Guild Member, how tight the schedule is. I was informed that mounting the crystal takes no more than six minutes. We shall need every spare second available to get you to and away from these installation points – particularly at the planet. You do understand the spatial considerations?»

“It has always seemed essentially simple when expertly and efficiently handled, Captain Francu. I'm sure there'll be no problem.” Six minutes. That gave her quite a safety margin, or had Trag in mind the lethargy that would soon over come her? She gazed at the dimensional tank, smiling diffidently. Problem was, if she took less than six minutes installing at one point, it still wouldn't affect her arrival at the next one. “Thank you, Captain. May I have updated printout as we near each installation point?”

“Certainly. You will be given eighteen minutes warning before each shuttle run.”

“As much as that?” Again, Killashandra was reacting to Prancu's grating ma

“Ah, yes, I have to take the crystal from the super's locked room.”

“Really, Captain, no one will steal it in Trundimoux space and, until all the elements are installed, they are quite harmless. The container can be webbed in at the shuttle lock for easier access now and give you that much more time to spare.”

Captain Francu's anxiety about crystal itself warred with his time factors. He accorded her a stiff bow and turned resolutely back to contemplation of his dimensional tank.

“Close to first objective and give me a deviation check.”

“How long before the first objective, Captain?”

“Five hours, six minutes, and thirty-six seconds, Guild Member.”

Killashandra moved away from the tank, her place quickly taken by those she had ousted. She nodded to Tic, and the subbie, with an air of intense relief, hurried to guide her away from the bridge.