Killashandra

Lars took the bracket from her, hefting it in his hand. “They’re no problem. Olver can do them.”

Instinctively Killashandra looked up at the monitors as Lars mentioned his contact. She dragged at the fabric of Lars’s sleeve and pointed to the surveillance buds, where traces of black had mysteriously appeared to make an aureole about each unit. “Now what did that?”

Killashandra chuckled and pointed to the white crystal. “A secret weapon for you when I leave. Sing white crystal to whatever room you’re in and blast the monitors.” She reached for one of the larger pieces Lars had cleared away and hefted it. “We’ll just save some of this for you. I wonder if Research and Development know about this application of white.”

Suddenly Lars had his arms about her, his face buried in her hair, his lips against her neck. She could feel the tension in him and caressed him with gentle hands.

“Oh, Su

She gave him a twisted, rueful smile, gentling the frown from his face with tender fingers “Crystal calls me back, Lars Dahl. It’s not a summons I can ignore, and live!”

He kissed her hungrily and as she responded they both caught the slight sound, swiveling away from each other, as the door slid open.

“Ah, Elder Ampris,” Killashandra said, “your arrival is most opportune. Show him the bracket, Lars Dahl,” and when Ampris regarded this unusual offering with amazement, “run your fingers over the clamping edge . . . carefully . . . and feel how rough it is. We’re going to need some two hundred of these, for I’m not about to trust new crystal in old brackets. All I’ve removed so far have been scratched just like that one. Will you authorize the order – and designate it is urgent?”

Killashandra snapped her mask back over her face and picked up the brush. Then she swore.

“I could also use a handlight of some sort. Some of this wretched stuff is like powder.”

Elder Ampris peered in and she heard his intake of breath. She straightened, regarding him passively, seeing the stern accusation in his eyes.

“Let me demonstrate, Elder Ampris, the need for meticulous care.” She hummed, more loudly then before, and took great delight in its effect on the man. “Sorry about that.” She resumed work.

“I came to inquire, Guildmember, how soon the repairs would be completed.”

“Since the idiot who smashed the manual put his heart in the destruction, it’s going to take a lot more time than it did for me to remove one shattered crystal from the cruiser drive – if that’s the comparison you were using.” Killashandra sighed, and looked disconsolately at the crystal ruin. “It’s slow going because of the nature of crystal and because, as you perceived, every smidgeon has to be cleaned out. That’s all we’ve achieved today . . .”

Elder Ampris shot a sour glance at Lars. “More helpers?”

Killashandra gave a bark of laughter. “Just find me a vacuum capable of sucking up crystal dust and we’d clear this in an hour. Or, supply me with a brand new case!” And she gave the one before her a dismissive slap with her hand. Crystal pinged, Lars and Ampris winced. “Gets to you, doesn’t it? Well, Elder Ampris, that’s where we stand. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the nitty gritty doesn’t get done by talking about it.” She picked up her brush but Ampris cleared his throat.

“A di

“I appreciate the courtesy, Elder Ampris, but until I have finished this, I wouldn’t feel right about taking any time off for mere entertainment. If you’ll send us in some more food – ”

“Guildmember,” Lars interrupted, “with all due respect, Elder Ampris is not . . . I mean, it is hardly his responsibility . . . “

“What are you trying to say, Captain?”

Ampris, his eyes glinting with the first glimpse of the humor she had seen from him since that long-ago reception, held up his hand, relieving Lars of the necessity of explanation.

“If the Guildmember is willing to forego pleasure to complete her task, I feel I may serve as messenger for her requirements.”

“Apparently everything I require has to be authorized by you anyway. Seems silly to waste time with all those intermediate stages.” Killashandra gri

They left and she returned to work. When Lars came back with several handbeams, his eyes were bubbling with humor.

“Your wishes are his commands, Oh mighty Guild-member, Oh sweeper of the white crystal specks! Orders were issued to all the boys out there,” and he jerked his thumb at the closed door panel, “that anything you request is to be secured as fast as possible.”

“Hmmm. Bring one of those lights to bear on this corner, will you, Lars?” She flicked the brush and disclosed tiny granules that glittered in the light. “See? The fardling things are pernicious! I’ll get ‘em, every last speck!”

When the sumptuous di

“Is crystal singing some kind of disease!” Lars asked conversationally.

“You sail. Do you call a halt in the middle of a storm? Do you leave off fishing in the midst of a school to nap?”

“It’s not quite the same thing – ”

“It is to me, Lars. Be of good cheer. The bracketing will be relatively easy and you can help me do that.”

Despite her protests, Lars carried her out of the organ loft just before midnight. When they reached her suite, she insisted that they had better have a good soak, to be sure none of the crystal dust had penetrated their clothing. In the bath, he had to hold her head above water, for she kept falling asleep.

It took nearly four days to ensure that no speck of crystal dust remained in the case. By the time they arrived each morning, new monitor buds had been installed. So the first thing that Killashandra did on entering the organ loft was to hum a happy tune, charging the white crystal shards to do their duty and blast the fragile sensors.

On the third day, the new brackets were delivered and Killashandra set Lars Dahl to checking each one under a microscope. Fourteen were rejected for minor flaws. After the visit of Elder Ampris, they had no visitors. Thyrol would conduct them every morning to the loft, unlocking it and inquiring after their needs. Excellent meals were delivered at the appropriate hours. Assured of uninterrupted privacy, with easily disabled monitors, Lars had the freedom to undertake a very patient examination of the room, searching for the location of the subliminal equipment.

On the fourth morning, as Thyrol led them across the stage, Killashandra noted a curious discrepancy. The loft room did not extend the entire length of the stage behind the organ console. She silently counted her paces to the door. When Thyrol had closed the panel and Lars had activated the jammer, she paced out the width of the room.

“In-ter-est-ing,” she said, her nose against the far wall. “This room is only half the length of the stage, Lars. Does that suggest anything to you?”

“It does, but there is no corresponding door on the other side of the console!” He joined her in her scrutiny of the blameless wall. “The subliminals have to be linked to the main frame data bases. I wonder . . .”

She followed his inspection of the cables that festooned the ceiling, pausing where they ran alongside the wall.

“Just a little minute,” he said, his eyes wide with discovery, and he spun one of the impervo tubs to position just under the cables.

He had to crane his neck, half stooped against the ceiling, but he gave a low and triumphant whistle. When he jumped down, he gathered Killashandra in his arms and whirled her about, crowing with exultation.