Crystal Universe - [Crystal Singer 03] - Crystal Line by Anne McCaffrey

vigorous flow as the Junk ingested their meals.
    When they had finished, the two singers returned briefly to the Big Hungry to check on the crystal.
    “Not even Junk can eat Ballybran crystal,” Killashandra said proudly.
    “The cubes you left in the lock, however,” Brendan remarked, “have remained dormant.”
    “Too bad we didn’t have any dirty waste to give the Junk,” Lars said, “to see if it could digest half-lifes.”
    Killashandra regarded him warily. “You do want to live dangerously, don’t you?”
    “Well, I don’t think we’ve done any lasting harm. How long can one good meal last Junk? I think we leave this to the experts. Singers we are; scientists we’re not.”
    “We’re a lot smarter than that exploratory team who found Junk,” Killa said.
    “Are we?”
    “Who can say at this juncture?” Brendan said, deftly diverting an argument with his outrageous pun. Lars and Killa groaned in unison as he went on. “You’ve done more than you were required to. And, while I hate to press you …” he added tentatively.
    “Yes, yes, of course,” Killashandra said, suppressing any comment on the fact that he was indeed pressuring them. “You’re anxious to collect Boira.”
    “I think we’ve got more than enough to prove to Lanzecki that we earned our fee,” Lars added, giving her a meaningful nod.
    She exhaled restively, swinging her arms indecisively.But the men were right: they’d done more than was expected even if
not
what had been anticipated, finding a Heptite use of the Junk. Its fate would now be decided by others.
    Lars moved to the exit arch, and with one more backward look at the surging flow of the Big Hungry’s questing “finger,” she followed. But the feeling that they hadn’t done enough remained with her.

T he BB-1066 returned them to Shankill Moon Base and deposited them with many expressions of pleasure at their company and hopes to see them again. Wryly Killashandra heard the undertone of polite impatience in his courtesies and nudged Lars to hurry the disembarkation process. Brendan wanted to return, full speed, to Regulus Base, where he would be rejoined by Boira.
    They had the pencil files of their report for Lanzecki in their carisaks, which bulged with souvenirs from their months on Sherpa.
    Periodically Killashandra cleared out her storage space of items that she could not remember acquiring. Now she couldn’t recall if she had corners into which to stuff the new additions. She hated discarding her belongings until they brought back no memories of where they had been used. When she did get rid of things, she preferred to do it when Lars wasn’t around. His memorywas much better than hers, and he could remember where and when clothes or equipment had been purchased. And why.
    They caught the first shuttle down to Ballybran. It was half-full of singers. To the three she recognized she gave a brief nod; Lars smiled at most, though he did not get a response from all.
    “Sometimes they act as if they’re going to their own executions,” he said.
    Evidently he said that often enough that her reply was automatic: “Sometimes they are.”
    That was true enough to be sobering. There was no chatter, no merriment, no laughter at all, and very few grins when singers returned to the planet on which they earned enough to indulge in whatever fancies rocked their jollies. The ambience today was enough to depress anyone—except Lars, who was smiling tenderly at the screen’s magnificent view of the broad oceans on the day side. He must be the only singer who enjoyed another aspect of the Guild homeworld, Killa reflected. He was smiling because he could look forward to sailing again.
    “You kept your word,” she murmured to him. “You choose the next one.”
    He grinned absently at her. “Hope Pat put her back in the water after Passover.”
    “We won’t have time now for a cruise.”
    His hand covered hers on the armrest, and his smile was tender and deeply