There were, however, far fewer active singers to produce any tithes for the Guild and more inactive ones-some of those in a vegetable state-who had to be supported by an ever-dwindling income.Fewer cutters in the field meant less crystal to offer, and Killashandra came across orders three and four years old that were waiting to be filled.Black crystal figured largely in these back-orders but all the dark crystals were needed.
Before she could be totally depressed by the outlook, she saw a remarkable upswing over the past few months-since Lars had thrown open unused claims.Her cuts were significant in that revival though both Tiagana and Jaygrin had brought in more.To comfort herself, she reviewed the total of one hundred and ninety-five years of cutting and compared it with the records of any other singer.She was tons ahead of the two younger singers.
She then reviewed Lars's notes on Orientation.They showed the continued emphasis on note-taking after every Range trip and on the return from off-planet jaunts:he planned to have an automatic reminder on each singer's console.He had also been listing the ways in which coordinates might be inviolably kept on file.There were notes on compulsory hypnotic sessions that would access such memories.
Lars also had notes on how to modernize the various departments of the Guild, what new technology there was to replace worn machines and at what cost; and many notes on how to capitalize on the talents of the support staff with appropriate bonuses.Most of these possibilities would have to wait on a continued upward turn of filled orders.
He had taken the trouble to investigate the alternatives used by people weary of waiting for the Guild to supply crystal.Advantage one to the Guild: Ballybran crystal had a longer work life and, if damaged, did not need to be jettisoned but could be retuned and used in other installations.Its competitors could not be recycled.Some of the original shafts of Ballybran crystal, cut by Barry Milekey, for whom the Milekey Range was named, were still in use after eight hundred years.
"What we need is an advertising campaign, too," she murmured, and tried to think-without much success-of interesting slogans.Ballybran crystal hadn't needed hype: it sold itself.So long as the supply met demand.
"Well, there is an improvement," she told herself, leaning back in the conformchair and stretching."We'll build on it."
The lights had come up when the sensors registered a diminution in available illumination.She swiveled the chair and noted that night had fallen-Shanganagh and Shankill were chasing each other across the sky, but they were soon to be occluded by the clouds billowing in from the west.She turned the chair enough to see the weatherline blinking on its strip across the top of the room.Barometer was dropping, and the isobars were tight with gale-force winds.Storm warnings had been broadcast.She altered the monitor to pick up the Hangar scan and saw the blips of forty or so sleds homing in.
Good!She would have a chance to speak to some of the less productive singers.She accessed the program that would identify returning craft and asked for details of each singer as they came in.She would approach them with facts and figures: the productive time charts on those working from coordinates, and the credit they raked in.Something that appealed to any singer was how to make enough credit quickly enough to get off-planet for as long as possible.Only "as long as possible" was going to be curtailed to "as long as necessary" until the Guild had returned to its once prestigious position.
Somewhat to Killashandra's surprise, she was received with a good deal of awe by the first group of singers she approached.She had quickly scanned the details of the forty-seven who had left the storm-bound Ranges, so she knew what and how much they had cut and how long it had taken them, and she was prepared to talk them out of resisting the proposal.
She marked her victims as she sat, drinking with them: the ones who didn't have enough credit to go anywhere interesting.She'd been to a staggering number of R amp;R and vacation planets in nearly two centuries, so she was able to spin tales to make them yearn to visit such fabulous places.It didn't take her long to interest this group, eighteen in all, in using a surefire way to achieve their ends.
The insistent buzz of the comunit roused her from a deep, dreamless sleep.Once she heard it, she also recognized the emergency code and floundered with her blankets to roll to the control panel at the edge of the sleep panel.
"Killashandra!"The caller was Flicken, his face stark with grief."Oh, how can I tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
"The B-and-B courier-it's sent out a Mayday."
"A B-and-B courier…" She stopped, gasping.Lars had been on a courier ship."Lars?"
Flicken nodded slowly, his chin quivering and his mouth working."Just came in."
"How?What?Couriers are…"
"Singularity trouble!"Flicken gasped out again."That's all I know.All I can find out.Mayday and a Jump disaster tag."
"Where?"
He shook his head more vigorously, but there were tears falling down his cheeks and he couldn't control the trembling of his mouth.
"Keep me informed," she said, amazed that she could sound so calm, that she wasn't raging at how abruptly her life had been shattered once again.She palmed the lights up and sat there a long, long time, her mind going in tight circles.B amp;B ships were very sophisticated vessels.Courier ships were the best of the B amp;Bs.Both brains and brawns could be expected to function under the most adverse conditions and survive against incredible odds.Singularity Jump disasters were few, but they could happen.Brendan had mentioned, in passing, that, while he was equipped to handle thousands of minute calculations during a Jump, he had several back-up, worst-scenario corrective capabilities.Furthermore, and she began to revive from the shocking news, every B amp;B ship, every naval vessel, every liner, every tanker, freighter, private yacht anywhere in the sector where the courier ship had been lost would be looking for it.If a Singularity disaster had to happen to a ship, then a courier B amp;B was the most likely one to survive.
She forced her mind to hang on to that thought and found something to wear.She went to the Guild Master's office and palmed up all the lights.She sat down in the conformchair, brought up the comsystem, and accessed Shanganagh Port Authority.
"Deputy Guild Master Ree, here," she said in an even tone, "keep me informed on any developments of the-"
"Yes, of course, Deputy Ree.We've initiated emergency proceedings and requested all naval, mercantile and private spaceships to forward all messages."
"By crystal coms, I trust," she said, mildly surprised that she could be droll at a time like this.A time like this was when a bit of drollery kept you sane, she amended.
"Yes, yes, of course, Deputy.The blacks we have here will pick up whispers in the furthest sectors of inhabited space."
"I think we'll have to find crystal that operates in Singularity space."
"Nothing works in decomposition space, Deputy."
She wondered if Jewel Junk would.
"We'll keep you informed, Deputy."
Deputy!Had she the right to use that title?Well, why not?Lars had appointed her, hadn't he?She was a better deputy than Presnol would be.She was a singer, a sometime diplomat, spy… she grinned sadly to herself.Then she pulled the multiholo base to her and called up the earliest 'gram it had stored.What appeared was the holo of herself, sun-bleached hair, the garlands Olav given her the morning they left Angel about her neck, accenting the color of the lovely gown of Teradia's making.When had Lars taken that?But he had-for here it was.
She sat there, looking at the holo, remembering all that had happened before and after it had been taken.She jumped when someone rapped at the door.