Killashandra

“Killa?” The smile had dropped from his face, his half-raised hand fell to his side as she failed to respond.

Imperceptibly she began to shake her head, and tentatively, certain that he would vanish if she admitted to herself that he was flesh, bone, and blood, her hands began to lift from her sides. Inside her body the cold knot into which all emotion and spirit had been reduced began to expand, like a warm draught through her veins. Her mind reverberated with one exultant conclusion: he was there, and he wouldn’t be if he hadn’t forgiven her.

“Lars?” Her voice was a whisper of disbelief but sufficient reassurance to propel him across the intervening space. Then, as if he found their reunion as incredible as she, he folded her carefully into his arms.

Momentarily she lacked the strength to return the embrace but burrowed her head into the curve of his shoulder and neck, inhaling the smell of him, and exhaling into the tears she had kept bottled for the eternity in which they had been parted.

Lars swept her up in his arms, and carried her to the chair, where he cradled her, appalled at the wildness of her sobbing and comforting her with kisses, caresses, and strong embracings.

“That fardling machine that served justice was never told we were emotionally attached, the one piece of information that no one but us would have thought relevant,” he said, releasing in talk the tension he had endured all through the process of getting to this point when he would be ready, and able, to meet her again.

“Then Father found out what had happened and he moved the entire Department to revoke that judgment on the basis of misinterpretation of your psychological response. Poor sweet Su

“I guess you were pretty upset.”

At such a massive understatement of fact, she managed to nod, trying not to laugh at the absurdity, but she couldn’t stop weeping. It had built up quite a head and it ought to prove conclusively to Lars, if he needed any, just how much she had missed him. She had waited so long to be in his arms, to hear his rich and pleasant tenor voice, and the sort of nonsense he was likely to speak. He could have been speaking gibberish and she’d have been content to listen. But he was also telling her the things she would have asked about him, what she needed to know to put some color in the past dreadful year.

“Then Father, Corish, and I spent two months processing material for the Council. Theach, Brassner, and Erutown had come out with Corish and they got assigned to the Revision Corps until someone in the Council took a closer look at the equations which Theach was idly calling up on his terminal.” Lars smiled tenderly as he delicately blotted tears from her cheeks, then kissed her forehead for such an un-Killashandraish display of sentimentality. “So he landed on his feet, as usual. Five more people, including the brewmaster of Gartertown, whom you might remember,” he added, tapping her nose as he teased, “got out on the next liner and are being resettled. What had worried Nahia and Hauness was what refugees would do once they got off Optheria, but there seems to be a resettlement policy. Not that Optherians have all that many skills to offer the advanced societies.

“Father and I got drafted to brief the actual Revision Force. You see, right after that infamous hearing, several more agents were sent in to play tourist during the Summer Festival. Good job we left some two-manuals intact. They came back, reporting that they were subjected to blatant subliminal conditioning at public concerts in Ironwood, Bailey, Everton, and Palamo. One thing Father and I emphasized was that the Revision Forces had better wait until after The Festival or they’d have a bankrupt planet as well as a disorganized one. So Optheria got its a

“When we’ve spare time, I’ve got some tapes of the actual landing and the takeover. Four Elders had fatal seizures but Ampris, Torkes, and Pentrom will answer to the Supreme Judiciary for their infamous, felonious, malicious, premeditated, and illegal manipulation of Optherian loyalties.

“The Revision Forces are well installed now on Optheria . . .” He looked out with the unfocused gaze of someone imagining a scene and was briefly sad. He bent to kiss Killashandra again, noting that her tears had abated and her breath was no longer taken in ragged gasps.

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“Oh, I was given many arguments why I should. Even a rather complimentary commission. Father returned, but I rather thought he wouldn’t leave Teradia for long. To my surprise, Corish went, and of course Erutown and Brassner. I had other plans.”

Killashandra shook her head in sad rebuke. “If I’d known what you pla

Lars hugged her tightly to him. “That’s why I didn’t mention them. Besides,” and he gave her a raffish look, “I hadn’t really made up my mind.”

“How did Trag recruit you then?”

Lars raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He didn’t. It is illegal to recruit citizens for the highly dangerous Heptite Guild. Didn’t you know? Candidly, my beloved Su

“You’re mad.” Vitality returned to Killashandra in the form of exasperation with his flamboyance, and such relief that she was once again in its presence. “Did you listen to one word I told you about the disadvantages? Didn’t you pay attention to any of the details in the Full Disclosure and that isn’t the half of what does happen? As you’ll find out. How could you be so blind?”

“None so blind as will not see, eh, Killa, my lovely Su

“Ballybran? Ballybran decided you?” Killashandra wriggled about in his arms, astounded. Not that she understood why she had such ambivalent reactions to his decision in the first place. He was here! How had she, and that co

“Of course, Su

“Seas?” Killashandra put a hand on his forehead. He must be feverish. “Seas!”

“All I’ve ever needed for perfect contentment is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.” He held her as her temper began to rise, though she didn’t know if he was mauling that obscure quotation or not. And then, too, Ballybran has you, beloved Su