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

Moksoon had taught her—that one asked, and expected, no help from anyone in the Ranges. Only … the Cube was not the Ranges.
    “Neither of us
have
to get out for a while yet,” she replied, though it wouldn’t be long before an undeniable urgency began to pulse through her veins. Helpfulness and cooperation were not singer characteristics, but even she could remember being obliged to—and alternately infuriated by—Lanzecki’s demands on her, and on herself and Lars. However, she was currently grateful for the benefits of the intriguing Junk assignment, and thus in a mood to be generous.
    “I appreciate that very much indeed.”
    “Isn’t there
anyone
else more suitable than Bollam?” she demanded.
    Lanzecki shrugged. “He has his uses. Now …” He turned immediately to red-sheeted Priority notices. “These can no longer be ignored, Lars. And Killa, Enthor’s gone and his replacement needs to be overseen. You’ve a finely tuned sense for crystal’s potential. Can you see your way clear to assisting in the Sorting Shed until the woman’s less tentative? She’s got to be more confident that her judgment’s right. I can’t be hauled in to mediate her evaluations with disgruntled singers.”
    Killa made a face. “So I’m Trag’s stand-in?”
    Lanzecki gave her a level look. “In that aspect of our craft, you were always his superior.”
    “Well, well,” she said, and would have teased him had she not seen the flicker in his eyes that suggested she restrain her flippancy. “Any singers due in?”
    “The Tower says that five are on their way back.Storm gathering over the southeast tip of the Ranges. Met says it’s just a squall.”
    Killa snorted in disgust. Even “just a squall” on Ballybran could be mortally dangerous to any singers caught in it. The high winds that gusted over the canyons stroked mind-blowing resonances out of the crystalline Ranges.
    “Who’s the new Sorter?”
    “Woman name of Clodine,” Lanzecki replied. “Don’t ride her, Killashandra. Her main fault is being new at the game.”
    Lars cocked an eyebrow at her and winked conspiratorially. She caught the warning that she would do more good to be patient. She shook her hair back over her shoulder in denial of the reminder and, on her mettle, strode out of the room.
    Clodine greeted Killashandra with a nervous blend of gratitude and caution. Sorters, whose particular adjustment to the Ballybran symbiont affected their vision to the point where they did not need any mechanical aid to see intrusions and flaws in crystal, did not suffer the memory deterioration that singers did. Each of the other four Sorters on duty gave Killashandra a pleasant nod or wave as she made her way to Clodine’s station—a station that had been Enthor’s since before Killa had become a member of the Heptite Guild. She would miss him, too: they’d had some spectacular arguments over his evaluation of the tons of crystal she had presented for his inspection. But she had known him to be exceedingly competent, and fair. The opinion had survived throughout all her trips in the Ranges. Two faces she always remembered, no matter how crystal-mazed she was: Enthor’s and Lanzecki’s.
    Clodine would have to be very good indeed to replaceEnthor in Killashandra’s estimation. Ironic to find herself in the position of teaching the woman all the skills she herself had learned from the old Sorter. But Killa
did
know crystal.
    The tall, slender girl—Killa judged her to be young in real chronology—kept blinking, her eyes going from one state to the other. Involuntarily she shuddered when the magnification of her enhanced sight made what should have been ordinary images unnerving to behold. She was an attractive girl, too, which might be why Lanzecki had enlisted Killa’s aid. There had been a time when Killa would have been intensely jealous of anyone who took Lanzecki’s interest, but those days were a long time back in the decades that had not