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

affectionate. “I like the ‘we,’ Sunny!” His fingers squeezed, and she, too, was suffused with loving warmth for him. They did make a very good team! Then he exhaled. “Lanzecki’ll probably have us both out in the Ranges before the morning.”
    The shuttle was crossing into the night zone as it spiraled down to Ballybran’s surface.
    “More than likely.” Killashandra felt no resistance to the prospect. The
need
to sing crystal had become more insistent during the last leg of their return voyage.
    When she had last checked their credit balance, it was sizable enough to reassure her against any eventuality—not finding one of their old lodes of good crystal, a sudden storm flushing them out of the Ranges, even more damage to the sled, though
that
she intended to avoid. The last accident had caused her extreme aggravation. So asinine to have been caught in an avalanche! Lars had maintained that no blame could be attached to them; she railed that they ought to have checked the stability of the projection that had decided to drop on their sled.
    She even remembered the piercing, almost pitying, look he had given her. “Look, Killa, you can’t be everything in the Ranges. You’ve got weather sense that has saved our hides more times than I care to count; you’re a superb cutter, and you’ve never cracked a crystal pitching it. Neither of us is geologist enough to have known that projection was unstable. Leave it!”
    She remembered his reassurance now. More vivid and embarrassing was her remembered ignominy at having to be hoisted out of the Ranges. She would be grateful when that memory was expunged from her mind by her return to the Ranges. Soon enough only Lars would have access to that embarrassment. Time after time, she had heard him making reports to his private file. He wasn’t likely to tease her about the avalanche—she’d give him that—but she almost wished he wouldn’t commit
every damn
detail to electronic memory.
    The shuttle landed them, and everyone filed out glumly. Only Lars seemed in good spirits. Then the port duty officer signaled to Lars and Killashandra.
    “Lanzecki said you’re to report to him immediately, forthwith and now!”
    “When have I heard that before?” Lars replied with a grin, clipping Killashandra under the elbow as he guided her toward the lift that would take them to the executive level.
    As they entered the administration office, Bollam gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment.
    “I really don’t like that man,” Killa murmured to Lars as she placed her hand on the door plate. “He’s a dork! A real dork! I wouldn’t trust him in the Ranges, and
I
don’t have Lanzecki’s problem.”
    Lars jiggled her elbow to move on as the door slid open. It was as if the Guild Master hadn’t moved from the position in which they had last seen him. Except, Killa noticed as he raised his head at their approach, he looked more tired and less … less substantial. She shook the notion out of her head.
    “Good work,” he said, nodding at them.
    “
Good
work?” Killa was astonished. “But the Junk isn’t something the Guild can use.”
    Lanzecki shrugged. “One less complication. And this Junk of yours couldn’t digest Ballybran crystal?” That was more a proud statement than a question, and a slight smile pulled at the corner of Lanzecki’s thin mouth.
    He was aging, Killa thought, noticing thin vertical lines on his upper lip, the deeper marks from nose to mouth, and the discoloration under his eyes.
    “You’re working too hard,” she said. Lanzecki raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “That dork at the door’s no help. You need someone more like Trag. He was efficient—”
    She stopped, seeing Lanzecki’s expression alter to a courteous mask that rebuked her for her impudence.
    “Look, anything we can do to help?” Lars asked. He glanced at Killashandra, not for permission but for her to reinforce his offer of assistance.
    Lars never had learned the lesson