By the time she reached his door, Pendel handed her a half-empty glass of Yarran beer for one hand and a fruit for the other. She squeezed past him and Tic, leaving them to block Chasurt.
“There you are, Killashandra,” Pendel said, standing across the doorway so that Chasurt could not barge in. Tic moved staunchly in front of Killashandra as the second line of defense. “More fruit within hand. Now, Chasurt, don't get yourself knotted. Come with me, and you can add whatever nutrients and restoratives you feel are required to the soup I'm getting Killashandra. Put those stupid sprays back into your pockets. Crystal Singers don't ordinarily require any medication. Don't you know anything beyond space-freeze and laser burn?”
Pendel hurried Chasurt away, signaling Tic to close the door and stand guard. Killashandra had finished the beer and started on the fruit. She closed her eyes with relief as juice and pulp soothed her parched mouth. She ate slowly, an instinct imposed on her by the symbiont, which knew very well what it required after fasting. With distaste, she remembered the mad hungers of pre-Passover and was grateful that the affliction had waned.
“Ma'am? . . .”
Killashandra only heard the soft whisper because there was no other sound in the cabin but her chewing.
“Tic?” It was the first time the girl had addressed her.
«Ma'am – thank you for the crystal!» Tic blurted her words. «Comofficer let me speak with my mother on Copper. Right away. No waiting. No worrying that something's gone wrong and I wouldn't hear . . . Comoff says with crystals I can call Copper any time I want!» Tic's eyes were round and liquid.
“I'm happy for you, Tic. I'm happy for you.” Killashandra thought that response a little graceless on her part, but Tic's awed response embarrassed her.
The panel was suddenly whipped aside, and Tic tried not to fall into Killashandra's lap as Captain Francu, radiating fury, stood in the opening.
“My medic tells me that you have refused his assistance.” The cubicle was too small for his oppressive manner.
"I do not need his assistance. I am a Crystal Singer – "
"While you are on board my vessel, you are under my orders – "
Killashandra rose, pushing Tic into the seat she had vacated, facing the captain with a wrath far more profound than his. From her thigh pouch, she produced the Guild ident and shoved it at the captain.
“Even you must recognize this authority!”
Pendel arrived at that moment, carrying a laden tray.
“Federated Sentient Planet Sessions authority!” Pendel gasped as he read, and the tray wavered in his grasp. “I've only seen one other.”
"You are clearly suffering from aberrant behavior following a period of deprivation – " the captain began.
“Nonsense. Hand me that tray, Pendel. Thank you.”
“Guild Member, attend me!”
“I am, but I'm also eating, as my body needs sustenance after my long rest.”
"You were in coma – "
“I was doing what all Crystal Singers do, resting after a difficult and exhausting assignment. And that is all I wish to say until I've eaten.”
“You are mentally affected, shoving an FSP authority at me to obtain food.” Captain Francu was sputtering now.
"That authority will be invoked as soon as I find out the nearest transfer station – "
"You are to remain on this cruiser until the Five Systems' Satellite – "
“I will remain on this cruiser only as long as it takes me to call up a shuttle or cutter or gig from the next system. And my authority permits me to do so. Right?”
“Right,” Pendel affirmed.
The captain glared at him and stared for a moment longer at Killashandra, speechless with suppressed anger. Then he turned on one heel and stamped down the corridor.
Tic was regarding Killashandra in white-faced perturbation.
“That's all right, now, girl,” Pendel said to her soothingly. “You will, of course, discuss this with no one no matter how you are pressed. I don't think Captain Francu will care to remember the incident.”
“How soon can I get off this ship? No offense to you and Tic, of course.”
Pendel edged himself in front of his keyboard and tapped a code. It took longer than usual for the display to start rippling across the screen, and there were only four lines.
“I wouldn't suggest that one. Drone tanker and primitive food supplies.” Pendel tapped again. The printout was denser. “Ah. We can arrange a transfer to a small but adequate change over station for a Selkite direct to Scoria. Ordinarily, I wouldn't recommend Selkites for any reason, but you'd be the only passenger in their oxygen life-support section.”
“Grand! I'll take it.”
“Means another three days aboard us.”
“I'll sleep a good deal of the time. Light meals when I need 'em.”
“There's just one thing,” and Pendel cleared his throat, ducking his head from her glance. “The Selkite reaches Ballybran just toward the end of the Passover storms. The original E.T.A. would land you well after they'd completed.”
“Oh, you've been doing some retrieving, have you?” Killashandra grinned.
Pendel winked, laying his finger along his nose. “I did feel some objective information a wise precaution.”
“So Chasurt decided the storms produced my mental aberrations?”
“Some such conclusion.”
“No fool goes out in Passover storms. We leave the planet if at all possible. If not, sleep through it!”
“I had heard the rumor that Crystal Singers hibernated.”
“Something of the sort.”
“Well, well. Have another Yarran beer, Killashandra.”
Whatever caused Pendel such satisfaction, he preferred to keep to himself, but they enjoyed several glasses until drowsiness over came her again. Pendel escorted her back to her cabin where Tac stood very much on duty. Small light meals were arranged, and Killashandra lay down to sleep, fervently blessing the fore thought that had provided her with the FSP authority. And what had Francu intended to do with her if he had managed to over rule her? Give her to Chasurt to find out why Crystal Singers are different?
She wasn't well pleased to have to spend a few more days on the cruiser, but she could sleep and relax, now that the pressures of installation were behind her. And she had completed those well. Trag would be pleased with her. Even if some percentage of the Trundimoux were not. Pity about that!
Still, they'd given her a big hand. She'd knocked herself out to give them a new tradition. Her performance at the planet installation had turned an angry mob into a jubilant throng. Yes, she'd done well as a Crystal Singer.
Would she ever again be able to experience that incredible surge of contact as black crystal segments linked? That all-enveloping surge as if she were aligned with every black crystal in the galaxy?
She shuddered with the aching desire. She turned from that thought. There would be other such times; of that she was now certain. Meanwhile, once the storms of Ballybran were over, she could sing crystal.
Sing crystal? Sing?
Killashandra began to laugh, recalling herself as she strode into the planetary communications building, stage center with a near riot occurring around her. She, playing the high priestess, completing the ritual that linked the isolated elements of the Trundimoux! A solo performance if ever there was one. And she had played before an audience of an entire system. What an opening note she had struck with crystal! What an ovation! Echoes from distant satellites. She had done exactly as she had once boasted she'd do, had arrogantly proclaimed to her peers in Fuerte that she would do. She had been the first Singer in this system and possibly the only Crystal Singer ever to appear in Trundimoux.
Killashandra laughed at the twisted irony of circumstance. She laughed and then cried because there was no one to know except herself that she had achieved an ambition.