"I keep trying" – and Antona emphasized that word "to correlate some factor, or factors, which would once and for all allow us to recruit without anxiety." She paused and looked with unfocused eyes to one corner of the dining area. "I mean, I knew what I was to do before I came here, but if I had made the complete adjustment, I'd've been required to sing crystal." Antona made a grimace of dislike, then smiled radiantly. "The prospect of having all the time in the world to delve into a life form and carry through a research program was such a gift – "
“You didn't want to be a Crystal Singer?”
“Shards and shades, girl, of course not. There's more to life here than that.”
“I had the impression, that crystal singing was the function of this planet.”
“Oh, it is,” and Antona's agreement rippled with laughter. “But the Crystal Singers could scarcely function without support personnel. More of us than you, you know. Takes five and three-quarters support staff to keep a Singer in the ranges. Furthermore, the Guild doesn't have the time or the facilities to train up members in every skill needed. There are plenty of people from the Federated Sentient Planets quite willing to risk adaptation and the possibility of having to sing crystal to come here in other capacities.”
“I'm a little confused . . .”
"I shouldn't wonder, Killashandra. You do come from Fuerte, and that conservative government had off notions about self-determination. I did wonder how you came to be recruited, though you are one of our nicer surprises." Antona patted Killashandra's arm reassuringly. "The Fuertans we've had in previous decades also made good hosts." Suddenly, Antona frowned, eyeing Killashandra speculatively. "I really must run your scans again. I've developed five separate evaluation tests, two at the primary level, which, if I say so myself – and Antona smiled modestly – "have increased the probability figures by 35%."
“I didn't think the Guild was permitted active recruiting,” Killashandra said, doggedly returning to that blithe comment.
Antona looked startled. “Oh, nothing active. Certainly less blatant than service programs. The FSP definitely frowns on any sort of conditioning or coercion due to the specific adaptation, you see. That's a direct contradiction of the freedom of movement in the FSP Charter. Of course, when FSP recruits, no one dares complain but it's common knowledge what Service people do.” She emitted a sort of giggle. “Freedom of movement, indeed. Most good citizens of the FSP never leave or want to leave their home worlds, but they have to be able to do so according to FSP, and that forces us to use the Shankill clearing point.”
“Don't you mind being restricted to this planet?”
“Why should I?” Antona did not appear to be resigned.
“Singers seem very keen to get off Ballybran,” Killashandra said, but her mind was chaotic, remembering Carigana's intransigence, the farce of the Shankill Moon Recruitment, Rimbol's passing his “preliminaries,” Carigana and her “trap,” the way Killashandra found herself reacting to the suspicion that Antona had confirmed.
“Singers should leave Ballybran whenever possible,” she said, completely sincere and much at her ease. “It's a tense, demanding profession, and one should be able to . . . escape . . . from one's work to completely different surroundings.”
“Escape.” That was the verb Lanzecki had used. “Do you escape your work Antona?”
“Me? Of course. My work is in the infirmary and the labs. I have the whole planet to roam and the moons if I wish a change of view.”
“Even at Passover?”
Antona chuckled indulgently at Killashandra's jibe. “Well, everyone holes up during Passover. Or gets off the planet if possible.” She leaned over to touch Killashandra's arm. “For your own sake, I wish you hadn't cut so near to Passover, but you can be sure I'll help you all I can.”
“Why should I need help?” Killashandra had no trouble affecting innocent surprise. “I've only cut once.”
“The most dangerous cut of them all. I'm really surprised that Lanzecki permitted it. He's so careful about his new Singers. I had to pass you over to training, my dear. No point at all in keeping you with sick people. But this Passover is the most inconvenient one, and it will be ages before the weather settles and damage can be cleared. I suppose Lanzecki wanted to get as much crystal cut as possible when he could. Of course, repair won't concern you as a Singer. You'll be sent out as soon as possible to check your claims for storm alteration.”
“What will happen because I have cut crystal once?”
“Oh, dear.” Antona inhaled deeply and then exhaled on a short, exasperated breath. “I will blather on. Very well, then, I'd have to tell you soon, anyhow. It's only I don't like to alarm people unnecessarily.”
“You have unless you come to the point.”
«You've been told that storms in the Crystal Ranges are lethal because the winds whip resonance out of the mountains that produce sensory overload. During Passover, the entire place, right down to its core, I sometimes feel, quivers – a noise, a vibration, multiple sonics are formed and transmitted which cannot be» – Antona gave another shrug of helplessness – «escaped. We'll sedate you, and you can be harnessed safely in a radiant tub in the infirmary, which has special shielding. Every possible care will be taken.»
“I see.”
“No, you'll hear. That's worse. Now eat. Actually, at your stage, a surfeit of food is the best cushion I could prescribe. Think of the sedation as hibernation; the food is protection.”
Killashandra applied herself to the untouched dishes, while Antona silently and slowly finished her last portion.
“Do the others go through this, too?” Killashandra flicked her hand at the array of plates.
“Oh, we all start eating quantities now.”
"Will the others have to be sedated and – "
“They'll be uncomfortable, but so will anyone with hearing and quite a number who are in other respects clinically deaf hear storm resonance. We provide maskers. The white noise relieves the temporary tinnitus caused by turbulence. We really do try to help.”
“I'm sure you do.”
“Small comfort, you may think, but all things are relative. Just read the early history of the Guild and the members' comments. Oh, dear, I don't want to be caught here.”
Antona's hasty rising caused Killashandra to look around. People were streaming in from the lifts. “I'll just slip out the back. You finish your meal!” She pointed imperatively at the remaining dishes and then retreated into a dimmer area of the Commons.
Killashandra finished the milsi stalks and regarded the final dish of nut-covered cubes. People were lining up at the catering areas, the first serving themselves with generous trays. So she wasn't the only hungry one.
“Here she is!” Rimbol's delighted cry startled her. She twisted in the chair and saw the Scartine. Mistra, Jezerey, Borton, and Celee were close behind him. “I told you I saw her at the storm scan. You get hungry or something?” His eyes bright with mischief, Rimbol began to count the empty plates.
“You must have cut a lot of crystal to afford all that,” Jezerey commented. Her eyes were unfriendly.
“Antona's orders. I didn't have a convalescence like you lot, so I'm eating for two now.”
“Yes, but you got out into the ranges, and we're stuck here!” Jezerey was almost savage. Borton shook her arm.
“Cut that, Jez. Killa didn't do it to spite you, you know.” Borton looked across to Killa, his eyes entreating.
“Yes, you did get out into the ranges,” Mistra said in her soft voice, “and I'd very much appreciate it, Killashandra, if you'd tell us what actually does happen when you cut. I've got the awfulest notion that they don't tell us all, for all they do tell.”