Waiting for sleep, she reflected on his extraordinary fitness and the stealth in which he kept it. Could Corish possibly be an FSP agent? It struck her as unlikely that the Federation would choose to send only one observer – an inexperienced one at that – into a planetary society that was being investigated. She chuckled to think that, out of the eighteen hundred passengers and crew on the Athena, Corish should attach himself to her. Of course, in her eager-student guise, she might constitute an integral part of his shipboard cover. Unless he had been advised of her extra assignment by his superiors. If he was a Federal agent, he would also know the capabilities of crystal singers, and the subtler ways to identify them.
No matter! In her concentrated efforts to recall her days as an impecunious and ardent music student, she had been able to shelve the more recent, painful episode. Seriously now, Killashandra considered Antona’s advice to record incidents in detail. Who knew when she might find it necessary to adopt the role of the student again?
Chapter 4
As the Athena plunged toward the Optherian primary for the deflected hyperbolic pass that would bring it close to the one inhabited planet of the system. the passengers who were disembarking went through the rituals of leave-taking from their shipboard acquaintances. That strange magic of voyaging which could make total strangers into confidantes and lovers had lost none of its potency in the space age.
As they waited in the airlock for the shuttle that would take them to the surface, Killashandra found herself prattling on at Corish about how they must meet and share their adventures: that they couldn’t part and never meet again while they were on the same planet. She’d want to know how he’d made out with his uncle and she hoped she’d be able to tell him of her success, invading the Optherian musical hierarchy. Of course that sort of chatter was in character with her role. What astonished Killashandra was that she meant what she said.
“That’s very sweet of you, Killa,” Corish replied, patting her shoulder in a condescending fashion that returned her instantly to her own personality.
“If I don’t get a place at the Music Center hostel, I’ll go to the Piper Facility,” she said, ducking away from his hand as she fumbled with the fastening on the side pocket of her carisak. She tendered the small plastic card distributed by the Facility with its communit codes. “The Optherian Traveler’s Guide says they’ll take messages for visitors. You could leave word for me there.” She smiled up at him with tremulous wistfulness. “I know that once we leave Optheria, we’ll never meet again, Corish, but at least while we’re still on the same planet, I was hoping we could stay friends.” She broke off, ducking her head and dabbing at her eyes which, on cue, had filled with moisture. She let him have just a confirming glimpse of her teary face, although why she was prolonging their association, she hadn’t a notion. One can get too wrapped up in role-playing.
“I promise you, Killa, that I’ll leave word at the Piper for you.” And Corish put a finger under her chin and lifted her head to his gaze. He had a rather engaging half-smile, she thought, though it wasn’t a patch on Lanzecki’s. She managed to squeeze out a few more tears on the strength of that comparison. “No need for tears, Killa.”
Just then the shuttle clanged against the Athena’s side and conversation became impossible with the noise of lock engagement and the excited crescendo of farewells. Then crewmen were officiously directing passengers to move to the port side of the lock. Killashandra was crammed rather tightly between two large men and separated from Corish by another sideways push.
“What’s the delay?” one of her cushions demanded.
“They’re loading some crates,” was the indignant reply. “Must be something special. There’re seals and impregtape all over them.”
“I shall complain to the Cruise Agent. I was under the impression that people got preference over commodities on this Line!”
As suddenly as it had begun, the press eased off and everyone was shuffling toward the ramp into the shuttle. Killashandra didn’t see Corish among the passengers already seated but she couldn’t fail to miss three large foam boxes that contained the white crystal, for they occupied the first three rows of seats on the shuttle’s starboard side.
“They must be immensely valuable,” the first cushion-man said. “Whatever could it be? Optherians don’t import much.”
“Too right,” his companion said in an aggrieved tone. “Why those are Heptite Guild seals.”
The shuttle attendant had taken complete control of seating arrangements, peremptorily filling the rows as he backed down the main aisle. He gestured Killashandra to an inside seat and the two cushions obediently settled in the next two. She caught a brief glimpse of Corish as he passed, but he was assigned a seat on the other side of the aisle.
“Not wasting any time, are they?” the first man said.
“Have none to waste in a parabolic orbit,” his friend replied.
“There mustn’t have been any outgoing passengers.”
“Probably not. Optherians don’t leave their planet and the tourist season hasn’t really started.”
A rather ominous rumbling, issuing from the floor plates, startled them. This was quickly followed by additional metallic complaints, causing further vibrations under their feet.
Two distinct thuds signaled the closing of the cargo bays. Then Killashandra felt the air compress as the main passenger lock was shut and secured. Through the skin of the hull beside her, she heard the snick of the grapple release so she was prepared for the stomach-wrenching motion of the shuttle’s falling away from the Athena. Her seatmates were not and gasped in reaction, clutching the arm rests as the shuttle’s engines took hold and pushed the passengers into the foam of their seats.
The transfer from liner to planetary surface was a relatively short run, though Killashandra’s seatmates complained bitterly about the discomfort and duration all the way down. Killashandra accounted the landing smooth but the two cushions found fault with that as well, so she was immensely grateful when the port opened again, flooding the shuttle with the crisp clean cool air of Optheria. She inhaled deeply, clearing her lungs of the Athena’s recycled air. For all the craft’s modern amenities, it had not quite solved the age-old problem of refreshing air without the taint of deodorizers.
No sooner had the first passengers filed into the arrival area than the public address system began a recorded announcement, scrolling through the same message in all major Federated Planets languages Passengers were requested to have travel documents ready for inspection by Port Authorities. Please to form a line in the appropriately marked alphabetic or numeric queues. Aliens requiring special life support systems or supplies would please contact a uniformed attendant. Visitors with health problems were to present themselves, immediately after Clearance, to the Port Authority Medical Officer. It was the hope of the Tourist Bureau of Optheria that all visitors would thoroughly enjoy their holiday on the planet.
Killashandra was relieved to see that she would be able to present her I.D. in some privacy, for the Inspectors presided in security booths. Those waiting their turn in the queue could not observe the process. She kept glancing to the far right of the line where Corish should be waiting but he was not immediately visible. She caught sight of him just as it was her turn to approach the Inspector.
Killashandra suppressed a malicious grin as she slid her arm and its I.D. bracelet under the visiplate. The blank expression of the Inspector’s square face underwent a remarkable change at the sight of the Heptite Seal on his screen. With one hand he pressed a red button on the terminal in front of him and with the other urgently beckoned her to proceed. Quitting the booth, he insisted on relieving her of her carisak.