"That's why Lanzecki monopolized you so much," she said in petulant accusation."That's why you had so many meetings with him!"
"Believe me, Killa, I didn't know what Lanzecki was doing.I had no idea that he was briefing me to take over from him.But he did think my ideas had merit…"
Killa stared at the man who had been her constant companion to the point where she could not envision life without him at her side.She stared at his familiar face and wondered that she knew so little about him.
"You could have said no," she whispered, appalled by what he was saying, and by what he wanted of her."You didn't have to accept the appointment."
"Lanzecki suggested it with terms I couldn't refuse."
"You want to be Guild Master!" she accused him.
He shook his head slowly, a sad smile on his lips."No, Sunny, I didn't want to be Guild Master.But I am, and I'm going to improve the Guild, and every kicking, screaming resisting member will benefit."
"Benefit?I don't like the sound of that."She stepped back from him."What's wrong with the Guild the way it is?Who do you think you are to change it?"Her voice rose, shrilling with the growing sense of panic that enveloped her."You're not Lanzecki!You've never cared about the Guild before.Just sailing.That's all you care about-sailing and seas and ships…" And, whirling, she ran from the office.
"Killa, love, let me explain!" he called after her.
She bashed at the lift buttons, begging the door to open and get her out of here.Lars was a seaman, not a Guild Master.Lanzecki was.He always had been.The stable, safe, and secure pivot of her life in the Guild.The door slid open and she jumped inside the car, pounding the panel to make the door close before Lars could reach her.He was going to talk her into this, too, because he could always convince her that his suggestions would work.She wouldn't let him wheedle her into an office job.He would keep her out of the Ranges, keep her from cutting crystal and she would end up like Trag-with less and less symbiont protection.That's what had killed Trag: no protection.
She had to protect herself against Lars now.He would talk her into doing something she did not want to do.The Guild didn't need to be changed!It had run perfectly well for centuries.What could possibly need changing?Well, she wasn't going to help.Best cutter in the Guild, huh?Just the kind of soft talk that had got Lars his way with her too often!Make her a stand-in for Trag, would he?She wasn't old sobersides Trag, critical, unswerving, duty-bound.She was Killashandra Ree.She always would be!The door opened again, and she fled.At first she didn't realize where she was; then, when she recognized the Hangar floor, she gasped with relief.She mustn't let Lars catch up with her.
She'd lose herself in the Ranges and then Lars, the Guild Master, wouldn't be able to find her.She'd go as deep as she could, past any claim they had made together.She'd find new ones, ones he didn't dream existed.She'd cut and cut and she'd show the Guild Master that she was too important a cutter to be restricted to an office!
She was only peripherally aware that the flight officer was trying to tell her something.She repeated her urgent request for her sled.When he seemed recalcitrant, trying to restate his message, she barged past him, running toward the racks where sleds were stored.Hers was in the first rank, so she climbed to it, palmed the cabin door open, and settled herself in the pilot's seat.She checked the engines, slipped on the headpiece, and heard the babble from Operations.
"I want clearance and I don't want any nonsense.I have got to get out into the Ranges.Is that understood?"
Suddenly the voices that were trying to dissuade her went silent.There was a long pause during which she revved the engines and clenched and unclenched her hands on the yoke, waiting for her release.She'd go without it if she had to.She was reaching for the propulsion toggle when the silence ended.
"Killashandra Ree, clear to go," said a tenor voice, flat with a lack of emotion."Good luck, singer!"
She was in such a swivet to depart that she didn't realize that it wasn't the flight officer who released her.She eased the sled out of the rack and headed for the open Hangar door.Once clear, she pointed the nose of the sled north.She allowed the merest margin of distance before she engaged the drive.The relief of her escape diminished the discomfort of gravitational pressure as the sled obediently shot forward, shoving her deep in the cushioning.
The first storm caught her still looking for a possible site.She didn't return to the Guild.She headed further north, skipping across the sea away from the storm, and settled on the North Continent to wait out the heavy weather.She slept most of the interval, then returned to the Ranges and continued her search.
Lack of supplies, especially water, finally drove her back.She stayed only long enough to replenish her stores, ignoring all suggestions from both the flight and cargo officers, both of whom were desperately trying to delay her.Lanzecki probably had something in mind for her, and she didn't want any part of it.
"It isn't Lanzecki, Killa," Cargo insisted, her expression troubled."Donalla-"
"I don't know any Donalla."And Killashandra brushed past the woman and slid into her restocked sled and closed the door firmly.
As she maneuvered the sled out of the Hangar, the flight officer kept wildly pointing to his headphones, wanting her to open up her comline, but she ignored him and sped away, taking a zigzag course at such speed that no one could track her.
She finally found crystal-deep greens in dominants.She was still cutting when the alarms in her sled went off.That made her stop-briefly-and consult her weather sense.For the first time it had not given her advance notice.Or had it?She'd had a few sessions with crystal thrall lately.Perhaps… But it was only the first of the warnings.She had time.
She almost didn't, for the last of the greens, a massive plinth, thralled her, and only the lashing of gale-force winds broke the spell by knocking her off balance and out of the trance.
Frantic to load her cartons, for she obviously hadn't bothered to for several days, she worked against the slimmest margin ever.Luck barely hung on to the fins of her sled, for the crash came on the very edge of the storm, near enough for a crew to rescue the crystal and her battered body.The sled was a write-off.
"Whaddid I cut?How much did I earn?" were Killashandra's first coherent questions when she finally roused from accident trauma.
"Enough, I gather, to replace your sled, Killa," a female voice said.
Killashandra managed to open her eyes, though her lids were incredibly heavy to raise.It was hard to focus, but gradually she was able to distinguish a woman's face.
She retrieved a suitable name with effort."Antona!"
"No, not Antona.Donalla."
"Donalla?"Killa peered earnestly, blinking furiously to clear her sight.She didn't recognize the face."Do I know you?"
"Not very well."There was a slight ripple of amusement in the tone."But a while ago you saved my life."
"I don't remember cutting crystal with anyone."
"Oh, I'm not a singer.I'm a medic.Do you remember anything at all about helping persuade my parents to let me come to Ballybran?"
"No."When Killa began to shake her head to emphasize the negative, she experienced considerable pain."I've had little to do with recruitment," she said repressively."I sing crystal.I don't entice people to it."
"You didn't entice me, Killashandra Ree, but you did give my parents incontrovertible proof that the Ballybran symbiont heals.Fast."
"It has to, doesn't it, to keep singers in the field?I nearly bought it this time, didn't I?"