"Then why did he take on such a want-wit as Bollam!There must be someone more qualified!"
Lars grinned at her vehemence and rocked her close in his arms."Did you find anyone to replace him over the last few days?"
She pushed him away, glaring reprovingly at him.She had thought her search discreet enough.
"Oh, there's little going on here that Lanzecki doesn't hear about sooner or later.He said to tell you that he appreciated your efforts.Bollam suits his needs."
Killa swore.
"Hey, I wouldn't mind a late-night snack," Lars said, hauling her with him to the catering unit."And yes, the Apharians ordered the blue, still registering complaints about the cost and issuing veiled statements about unethical access and invasion of commercial privacy and all that wind and piss."
Two days later Killashandra and Lars lifted their sled out of the Hangar and headed east, toward the Milekey Ranges.Behind them a second sled departed, but immediately struck out on a nor' easterly course.
"That's Lanzecki's," Killashandra said in surprise.
"Yes, that's why he's been working such long hours, to clear all current business.He'll be the better for a spell in the Ranges. That's all he needs, really."
"But with Bollam?"
"I'll grant you that I've qualms, but who knows?Bollam might turn out to be top-rank cutter.Or why would Lanzecki shepherd him?"
"Shepherd him?"Killa blinked."Bollam's not been blooded in the Ranges yet?"She recalled the fine crystal scars on Bollam's hands and arms."He's cuts enough."
Lars grinned."I heard tell that he was the clumsiest apprentice they ever had on the Hangar floor.He's lucky to find anyone to shepherd him, the number of singers he annoyed dropping crystals when he was unloading sleds."
Killa muttered uncomplimentary epithets about Bollam.
"I suppose that sort of duty does fall with Lanzecki," Lars went on with a sigh, "shepherding the ones no one else will take to initiate."
"I don't envy him the job, that's for sure."
"Nor I."Lars turned to grin at her, his eyes deep with affection."But then, I had the best of all possible partners."
"You!"She faked a cuff to his jaw.She could, and did, envy Bollam the chance to be shepherded by Lanzecki on his first trip to the Ranges: the twit didn't deserve such an honor.Odd, though; she would have thought Lanzecki would have blackmailed someone else to shepherd Bollam, reserving his own talents to take the rough edges off the man once he'd been exposed to the Ranges.
"Where'll we head, partner?"Lars asked her as they entered the Milekey.
Killashandra grimaced.The usual ambivalence surged up in mind and body.A singer cut crystal to leave the Ranges as frequently as possible.But a singer also had to renew herself with the crystal she cut.The more she cut out of a certain lode, the easier it was to find it later.If she went off-planet for any length of time, that attraction diminished.But a singer had to go off-planet to ease the crystal pulse in her blood.Cutting too much was almost, not quite, as much a hazard as cutting too little.With Lars, she had often been able to cut just enough, which was the main advantage of singing duet.
"Can you remember where we cut those greens a couple of trips back?"
Lars gave her a long thoughtful look.
"What's wrong?" she asked."We have cut greens, and with none available it seems sensible to get top market price on something."
"Why don't we go for black?"
"You know how hard it is to find black, good black," she replied in a cranky tone.She didn't want to cut blacks-ever.
"Green it is," he said, and slightly altered the sled's course."Our marker may have faded a lot," he went on."Lots of storms have passed over since we cut green."
"Not that many!"
He said nothing and accelerated the sled."It'll be a while.Settle down."
She watched the jagged pinnacles of the Range.Paint splotches, old and new, indicated claims.Once she would have recognized markers by their color and pattern.She didn't try any more.Theirs was a black and yellow herringbone design, which Lars had thoughtfully painted on the console.She often cursed that choice, because it was hell to paint the pattern on uneven rock surfaces, but she had to admit that the black and yellow herringbones had high visibility.
The sled plowed through the skies, the sweep of peak and pinnacle flowing past her in an almost mesmerizing blur.Below a relatively fresh paint splotch, she caught the metallic glitter of a sled half-hidden under a canyon overhang.
"They ought to watch out," she murmured under her breath."Ledges can fall down on top of you."
"What say, Sunny?"Lars asked, and she grinned as she waved at him to ignore her.
It was late in the morning when he began to circle the sled."Think I found one," he said, bringing them down to hover over the spot.
"Are you sure?"Killa squinted down at rocks bearing the barest hint of color: the herringbone pattern was all but indistinguishable.
"Sure as I can be.Shall we put down and see what we remember of the site?"
"We certainly have to renew the marker," she said, annoyed that the paint, which was supposed to have a long sun-life, had faded so badly.Markers were what kept other singers from usurping claims.A claim was circular in shape, with a radius of a half kilometer radiating from the painted logo.No one was supposed to enter a space so marked.As further protection, the mark was not required to be at the lode itself-or even anywhere near.The lode could be right at the edge of the enclosed space and still be claimed by the singer.
"Paint first, look later," Lars said, calling the order.
They painted and then took a meal break, all the while looking around the circle, hoping to trigger recollections of this particular site.
"We've got to go down," Killa said after she'd swallowed her last mouthful."Nothing's familiar at this height."
"Eeny meeny, pitsa teeny," Lars chanted as he circled up from the peak.At "teeny", Lars left the circle in that direction, bringing the sled down into the small canyon.He grinned at Killa:a random choice had often proved lucky.He neatly parked their vehicle in the shadow cast by the higher side, and she nodded approval of his caution.They would be hidden from an aerial view until the morning.
She was first out of the sled, running her fingers along the uneven rock walls of the canyon and hoping to catch a trace of crystal resonance.Or find the scars of a previous working.
Lars struck off in the opposite direction.They met on the far side, having seen nothing to indicate this canyon was the one they were looking for.
"Shall we go left or right?"Lars asked as they got back into the sled.
"Off the top of my head!Right!"Killashandra said after a moment's sober thought."Not that that's any indication."
But she turned out to be correct-for in the narrow ravine to the right of their first landing they came across evidence of cutting.
"I'd know our style anywhere," Lars said.
"You mean yours," she replied, settling in to another of their long debates as they returned to the sled and unpacked their sonic cutters.
"We'd do better if we waited until the sun hits them," Lars said.
"No better or no worse.Hit a C."
Inhaling deeply, he sang a fine powerful true mid-C, his eyes sparkling at her, daring her as he so often did.She sang out a third above his note, as powerfully as he had.Sound bounced back at them, making them both flinch at the undertones.
"Some of it's cracked," Killa said but, as one, they both moved toward the resonating point."Green, from the power in its echo."
"I told you I remembered where we'd cut green."
Once at the side of the ravine, they sang the pitch notes again and set their cutters to the sound.Killa indicated the cut she would make and set herself for the first wrenching scream of cut crystal.No sooner had she set the cutter than Lars set his a handspan to the right.