And in thy stead I've got a deal of judgement,

advice and Killashandra managed a tinkling giggle and warnings. Corish smiled perfunctorily. Dont ignore that sort of advice. Fuerte, huh? Thats a long way to come. I think Ive spent half my life traveling already, Killashandra said expansively while she tried to compute how long she ought to have been traveling if her port of embarkation had been Fuerte. She hadnt done enough homework. Though she couldnt imagine that Corish would know if she erred. She took a long sip of her beer. This is a Bellemere, but its too sour for me. The best beer in the galaxy is a Yarran brew. Yarran? She regarded Corish with keener interest. If Corish came from Beta Jungische, he was a long way from a regular supply of Yarran beer. Killashandras curiosity rustled awake. The Yarran brewmasters have no peers. Surely your brother has mentioned Yarran beer? Well, now, its possible that he has, Killashandra said slowly, as if searching her memory. But then, he told me so much that I cant remember half. She was about to giggle again and then decided that, not only did her giggle nauseate herself but it might repel Corish and she wanted to satisfy this flicker of curiosity about him. Why are you traveling to Optheria? Family business, sort of. An uncle of mine went for a visit and decided to become a citizen. We need his signature on some family papers. Weve written several times and had no reply. Now, he could be dead but I have to have the proper certification if he is, and his print and fist on the documents if he isnt. And you have to come all the way from Beta Jungische for that? Well, theres a lot of credit involved and this isnt a bad way to go. He enscribed a half circle with his beaker, including the ship as well as the dancers, and smiled at Killashandra over the rim as he sipped. This Pilsners not all that bad, really. What have you there? She went along with Corishs adroit change of subject and with the beer sampling. Although singing crystal brought with it an inexhaustible ability to metabolize alcohol without noticeable affect, she feigned the symptoms of intoxication as she confided her fake history to the Jungian, whenever necessary embellishing her actual experiences at the Arts Complex. Thus Corish learned that she was a keyboard specialist, in her final year of training, with high hopes that the Optherian Festival would provide her with sufficient data for an honors recommendation. She had credentials of panasonic digital camera software download sufficiently high caliber to gain entrance into the Federal Music Conservatory on Optheria where she hoped shed be allowed to play on an Optherian organ. An hour is all I need, she told Corish, blinking in her simulation of advancing inebriation, for the purposes of my dissertation. From what I hear about their precious organ, youd be lucky to get within spitting distance. Even half an hour. I hear that only Federal licensed musicians are allowed in the organ loft. Well, theyll have to make an exception in my case because I have a special letter from Fuertes President hes a friend of my familys. And a sealed note from Stellar Performer Dalkay Mogorog She paused deferentially at the mention of that august personality, who was evidently unknown to Corish, and Im sure theyll concede. Even fifteen minutes? she asked as Corish continued to shake his head. Well, theyll just have to! I havent come all this way to be refused. Im a serious student of keyboard instruments. I won a scholarship to the Federated Sentient Planets Conservatory on Terra. Ive been permitted to play on a Moartian clavier, a Handelian spinet, Purcells harpsichord, a Bach organ, and a Beethoven pianaforte and She hiccuped to mask the fact that she was running out of prestigious composers and instruments. So? Which beer do you prefer now? Huh? Corish solicitously conducted her to her cabin and arranged her on her bunk. As he drew a light blanket over her, she felt the static leap from her shoulder to his hands. He hesitated briefly, then quietly left. As Killashandra gave him time to leave her passage-way, she reviewed her performance and decided that she hadnt dropped from character, even if he had. It was rather nice of him, too, not to have taken advantage of her. When she felt secure, she slipped from her cabin and down to the gymnasium level. At that hour, it was empty and she enjoyed an hours luxuriating in the radiant fluid. They met the next morning at the breakfast hour, Corish solicitously inquiring after her health. Did I fall asleep on you? she asked with wide-eyed dismay. Not at all. I just saw to it that you were safely in your own cabin before you did. Critically, she held her hands out in front of her. Wel1, at least, theyre

"What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son?

shallow tier of steps that led down to the main level. With an alert and wary expression, Olav was half way across the floor to greet her. Behind him Elder Torkes was seated on a high wooden chair, members of his staff standing about the room, conversing with several islanders. Automatically, Killashandra gave the assembled one quick glance before she proceeded toward Torkes. Did I spend weeks on a deserted island to be stopped and questioned by an armed minion? To have a weapon thrust in my face as if I were an enemy? I and Killashandra nearly bruised her breast bone as she thumped herself with rigid fingers I am the one who has been assaulted and abducted. I am the one who has been at jeopardy and you Now she pointed an accusing finger at Torkes, who was regarding her in a state of shock. You have been safe! Safe! Afterwards Lars told her that she had been magnificent, her eyes visibly emitting sparks, her manner so imposing that he had been breathless with astonishment. What operatic role had she been using? I wasnt, shed replied with a rueful smile, for the effect of her dramatic entrance had more than satisfied her rage. Ive never been so angry in my life. A weapon? Pointed at me? Torkes heaved himself out of his chair, his expression that of a man confronting an unknown and dangerous entity and uncertain which course to take. My dear Crystal Singer I am not your dear anything. Your experiences have unnerved you, Guildmember Ree. No aggression was intended against you, merely Your wretched, suffocating need for protocol and an irrelevant show of aggression. I warn you and she waggled her finger at him again I warn you, you may expect the most severe retribution she caught herself; in her rage, she had been on the point of revealing too much to Elder Torkes from my Guild, reparation for the callous and undignified way in which I have been treated. Torkes regarded her finger as if it were some sort of deadly weapon in itself. Before he could assemble a suitable reply Olav was at Killashandras elbow, offering a glass of amber liquid. Guildmember, drink this His baritone voice, so soothing and conciliatory, penetrated her ranting. She knocked back the drink, and was rendered momentarily speechless. The shock of the potent beverage effectively restored her to discretion. You are understandably overwrought, and have been needlessly upset, but you are safe here, now, I do assure you. Elder Torkes has already initiated piodata digital camera battery the most thorough investigation of this terrible outrage and personally supervised your security here on Angel Island. Olavs tactful reassurances gave her the time to regain use of her throat and vocal cords. Her throat was on fire, her stomach throbbing, and her eyes watered. Which seemed a good cue to develop. She allowed her tears to flow and reached weakly for Olavs hand to support her. Instantly she felt Lars take her right arm, and the two men led her to the other elaborate chair in the chamber, seating her as if she were suddenly fragile. I am overset. Anyone would be, enduring what I have, Killashandra said, using her sobbing to purge the last dregs of anger, for she estimated that shed worked that pitch long enough. All alone, on that wretched island, not knowing where I was, if Id ever be rescued. And then the hurricane A second glass was proffered. When she glared at Olav, he winked. Nevertheless, she sipped cautiously. Polly wine. Please accept my apologies, Elder Torkes, but that ridiculous weapon was the last straw. Her voice died away but she managed to sound reasonably sincere. Then she smiled weakly at the nonplussed Elder, and fluttered her eyelashes at his attendants. They seemed afflicted by some sort of paralysis. It afforded Killashandra considerable satisfaction that she had managed to confound an entire Optherian crew. They had stood in great need of such a lesson. She relaxed into the cushioned back of the chair. There isnt an islander in this Archipelago who would do you any injury, Guildmember, Olav continued, now offering her a finely stitched handkerchief. Especially after the news of your devoted nursing of the Bar Island injured. When I consider how unselfishly you volunteered to assist, and you only an hour away from being rescued, why, we are all in your debt. Shielding her face from Torkes with the handkerchief, Killashandra looked up at Olav. She blotted the last of the tears she could manage to squeeze out. She had received his message. She gave a sniff, then exhaled in a huge sigh. What else could I do? Their need was far greater than mine for I had suffered no real physical injury. It was excellent therapy, and she managed that on a rush of breath, for me to tend those less fortunate than I. And I do feel safe with you, Harbor Master, and with Captain Dahl! She touched each man on the arm, favoring them with a tremulous smile. Lars managed to give her shoulder an admonitory pinch

He is a stout fellow, forbear.

brought up sharply against Miller's extended arm, rigid as a bar of iron. "What bloody nonsense is this? He doesn't understand English!" "Don't he, though? Then why was he out of the cave like a flash when Casey reported hearin' sounds outside . . . and why was he the first to leave the carob grove this afternoon if he didn't understand your order? Take your coat off, Judas, or I'll shoot you through the arm. I'll give you two seconds." Mallory made to throw his arms round Miller and bring him to the ground, but halted in mid-step as he caught the look on Panayis's faceteeth bared, murder glaring out from the coal-black eyes. Never before had Mallory seen such malignity in a human face, a malignity that yielded abruptly to shocked pain and disbelief as the .32 bullet smashed into his upper arm, just below the shoulder. "Two seconds and then the other arm," Miller said woodenly. But Panayis was already tearing off his jacket, the dark, bestial eyes never leaving Miller's face. Mallory looked at him, shivered involuntarily, looked at Miller. Indifference, he thought, that was the only word to describe the look on the American's face. Indifference. Unaccountably, Mallory felt colder than ever. "Turn round!" The automatic never wavered. Slowly Panayis turned round. Miller stepped forward, caught the black shirt by the collar, ripped it off his back with one convulsive jerk. "Waal, waal, now, whoever woulda thought it?" Miller drawled. "Surprise, surprise, surprise! Remember, boss, this was the character that was publicly flogged by the Germans in Crete, flogged until the white of his ribs showed through. His back's in a heliuva state, isn't it?" Mallory looked but said nothing. Completely off balance, his mind was in a kaleidoscopic whirl, his thoughts struggling to adjust themselves to a new set of circumstances, a complete reversal of all his previous thinking. Not a scar, not a single blemish, marked the dark smoothness of that skin. "Just a natural quick healer," Miller murmured. "Only a nasty, twisted mind like mine would think that he had been a German agent in Crete, became known to the Allies as a fifth columnist, lost his usefulness to the Germans and was shipped back to Navarone by fast motor-launch under cover of night. Floggin'! Islandhoppin' his. way back here in a rowboat! Just a lot of bloody eyewash!" Miller paused, and his mouth twisted. "I wonder how many pieces of silver he made in Crete before they got wise to him?" "But heavens above, man, you're not going to dxg 506v digital video camera condemn someone just for shooting a line!" Mallory protested. Strangely, he didn't feel nearly as vehement as he sounded. "How many survivors would there be among the Allies if" "Not convinced yet, huh?" Miller waved his automatic negligently at Panayis. "Roll up the left trouser leg, Iscariot. Two seconds again." Panayis did as he was told. The black, venomous eyes never looked away from Miller's. He rolled the dark cloth up to the knee. "Farther yet? That's my little boy," Miller, encouraged him. "And now take that bandage offright off." A few seconds passed, then Miller shook his head sadly. "A ghastly wound, boss, a ghastly wound!" "I'm beginning to see your point," Mallory said thoughtfully. The dark sinewy leg wasn't even scratched. "But why on earth" "Simple. Four reasons at least. Junior here is a treacherous, slimy bastardno self -respectin' rattlesnake would come within a mile of himbut he's a clever bastard. He faked his leg so he could stay in the cave in the Devil's Playground when the four of us went back to stop the Alpenkorps from comin' up the slope below the carob grove." "Why? Frightened he'd stop something?" Miller shook his head impatiently. "Junior here's scared o' nothin'. He stayed behind to write a note. Later on he used his leg to drop behind us some place, and leave the note where it could be seen. Early on, this must have been. Note probably said that we would come out at such and such a place, and would they kindly send a welcomin' committee to meet us there. They sent it, remember: it was their car we swiped to get to town.. . . That was the first time I got real suspicious of the boy-friend: after he'd dropped behind he made up on us again real quicktoo damn' quick for a man with a game leg. But it wasn't till I opened the rucksack in the square this evenin' that I really knew." "You only mentioned two reasons," Mallory prompted. "Comin' to the others. Number threehe could fall behind when the welcomin' committee opened up in frontIscariot here wasn't goin' to get himself knocked off before he collected his salary. And number fourremember that real touchin' scene when he begged you to let him stay at the far end of the cave that led into the valley we came out? Goin' to do his Horatio-on-thebridge act?" "Going to show them

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

It was Jackstraw who heard it firstit was always Jackstraw, whose hearing was an even match for his phenomenal eyesight, who heard things first. Tired of having my exposed hands alternately frozen, I had dropped my book, zipped my sleeping-bag up to the chin and was drowsily watching him carving figurines from a length of inferior narwhal tusk when his hands suddenly fell still and he sat quite motionless. Then, unhurriedly as always, he dropped the piece of bone into the coffee-pan that simmered gently by the side of our oil-burner stovecurio collectors paid fancy prices for what they Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun imagined to be the dark ivory of fossilised elephant tusksrose and put his ear to the ventilation shaft, his eyes remote in the unseeing gaze of a man lost in listening. A couple of seconds were enough. "Aeroplane," he announced casually. "Aeroplane!" I propped myself up on an elbow and stared at him. "Jackstraw, you've been hitting the methylated spirits again." "Indeed, no, Dr Mason." The blue eyes, so incongruously at

And he called with furious mood,

your hands over your headsand your heads down!" He ignored his own advice, his gaze following the bomber every foot of the way down. Five hundred, four hundred, three, the rising crescendo of the heavy engine was beginning to hurt his ears, and the Stuka was pulling sharply out of its plunging fall, its bomb gone. Bomb! Mallory sat up sharply, screwing up his eyes against the blue of the sky. Not one bomb but dozens of them, clustered so thickly that they appeared to be jostling each other as they arrowed into the centre of the grove, striking the gnarled and stunted trees, breaking off branches and burying themselves to their fins in the soft and shingled slope. Incendiaries! Mallory had barely time to realise that they had been spared the horror of a 500-kilo H.E. bomb when the incendiaries erupted into hissing, guttering 'life, into an incandescent magnesium whiteness that reached out and completely destroyed the shadowed gloom of the carob grove. Within a matter of seconds the dazzling coruscation had given way to thick, evil-smelling clouds of acrid black smoke, smoke laced with flickering tongues of red, small at first, then licking and twisting resinously upwards until 'entire trees were enveloped in a cocoon of flame. The Stuka was still pulling upwards out of its dive, had not yet levelled off when the heart of the grove, old and dry and tindery, was fiercely ablaze. Miller twisted up and round, nudging Mallory to catch his attention through the cracking roar of the flames. "Incendiaries, boss," he announced. "What did you think they were using?" Mallory asked shortly. "Matches? They're trying to smoke us out, to burn us out, get us in the open. High explosive's not so good among trees. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred this would have worked." He coughed as the acrid smoke bit into his lungs, peered up with watering eyes through the tree-tops. "But not this time, not if we're lucky. Not if they hold off another half-minute or so. Just look at that smoke!" Miller looked. Thick, convoluted, shot through with fiery sparks, the rolling cloud was already a third of the way across the gap between grove and cliff, borne uphill by the wandering catspaws from the sea. It was the complete, the perfect smoke-screen. Miller nodded. "Gonna make a break for it, huh, boss?" "There's no choicewe either go, or we stay and get friedor blown into very little bits. Probably both." He raised his voice. "Anybody see digital camera sale nj what's happening up top?" "Queuing up for another go at us, sir." Brown said lugubriously. "The first bloke's still circling around." "Waiting to see how we break cover. They won't wait long. This is where we take off." He peered uphill through the rolling smoke, but it was too thick, laced his watering eyes until everything was blurred through a misted sheen of tears. There was no saying how far uphill the smoke-bank had reached, and they couldn't afford to wait until they were sure. Stuka pilots had never been renowned for their patience. "Right, everybody!" he shouted. "Fifteen yards along the tree-line to that wash, then straight up into the gorge. Don't stop till you're at least a hundred yards inside. Andrea, you lead the way. Off you go!" He peered through the blinding smoke. "Where's Panayis?" There was no reply. "Panayis!" Mallory called. "Panayis!" "Perhaps he went back for somethin'." Miller had stopped half-turned. "Shall I go " "Get on your way!" Mallory said savagely. "And if anything happens to young Stevens I'll hold you . . ." But Miller, wisely, was already gone, Andrea stumbling and coughing by his side. For a couple of seconds Mallory stood irresolute, then plunged back downhill towards the centre of the grove. Maybe Panayis had gone back for something and he couldn't understand English. Mallory had hardly gone five yards when he was forced to halt and fling his arm up before his face: the heat was searing. Panayis couldn't be down there; no one could have been down there, could have lived for seconds in that furnace. Gasping for air, hair singeing and clothes smouldering with fire, Mallory clawed his way back up the slope, colliding with trees, slipping, falling, then stumbling desperately to his feet again. He ran along to the east end of the wood. No one there. Back to the other end again, towards the wash, almost completely blind now, the super-heated air searing viciously through throat and lungs till he was suffocating, till his breath was. coming in great, whooping, agonised breaths. No sense in waiting longer, nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do except save himself. There was a noise in his ears, the roaring of the flames, the roaring of his own bloodand the screaming, heart-stopping roar of a Stuka in a power-dive. Desperately he flung

"O save, and you may see!

Not just yet. He frowned, glancing off to port, not really seeing the sprouts of islets as he corrected their course a few points easterly. However, if we tell my father and Nahia who you are Hauness, too? What Nahia knows, Hauness does, and safe enough in both their hands. But then what? Hard copy on the suicide files is rapidly available. But I should insist that you meet with other groups to prove unquestionably that the arbitrary restriction to Optheria is not popularly acceptable. Im glad you agree to that. In doing that, you will also need to avoid the Elders. It wouldnt do for them to discover you blithely treading the cobbles at Ironwood or the terraces of Maitland. You never told them youd kidnapped me, so why couldnt I visit other communities? Because youve now been missing for five weeks. How would you explain such an absence, much less why you havent repaired their precious Festival organ? Idve done that if that wretched security officer hadnt been in his flatulent dotage! My absence is easy to explain. I just dont explain it. She shrugged diffidently. Lars sniggered. You dont know how much our Elders dislike mysteries You have seen me playing a humble island maid, Lars. Try seeing me as a highly indignant and aristocratic member of the Heptite Guild. As she spoke, her voice became strange, disdainful, and Killashandra pulled herself arrogantly erect. Lars started to remove his arm from her shoulders in reaction to the transformation. Im more than a match for Ampris or Torkes. And they need my services far too much to annoy me again. Im obliged to mention that theyve sent for a replacement I know that. How could you? Killashandra grinned at him. Crystal singers have preternaturally acute hearing. You and your little band of conspirators were only across the room from me. I heard every word. Lars momentarily let the tiller slip but Killashandra grabbed it and steadied the helm. A second crystal singer might be all to the good, depending on who they send. But weve time to spare itll take nearly ten weeks to get another singer here. I happen to need the contract money so Ill repair their best video compact digital camera damned organ. Maybe this time, Ill get the kind of help I need. A thought suddenly struck Killashandra. By all thats holy, Ill get you! She prodded Larss chest with her forefinger. Lars snorted with derision. Im the last person welcome in the Conservatory! Ah, but you will be welcome as the man who rescued this poor abandoned crystal singer from durancevile! What? Well, that would answer why Ive been absent. But, of course, I never set eyes on my abductor so I cant say who it might be. Killashandra fluttered her eyelashes in mock horror. There I was, taking a stroll to compose myself after that horrible confrontation with an officious oaf and wham! bung! Im coshed on the head and wake up, all alone, on a desert island, heavens know where! Killashandra got into the part with a faked swoon. Im less of a ham with a properly respectful audience, I might add. But there I am. Lost! Who knows who the dastards are using a plural will suggest a whole group of conspirators, you see And then you Killashandra laid a delicate hand on Larss arm. His eyes were bright with mirth and he had his lips pressed together against distracting laughter. You loyal despite your terrible disappointment and Killashandra put her hand to her breast and breathed hard rescued me and insisted on returning me to the safety of the City, to install the crystal manual so that the priceless organ will be ready for the Summer Festival. Thus currying favor with the powers that be which, in view of your subversive activities, is a very good idea and saving them the cost of another expensive crystal singer. We are very expensive to hire, you see. And I have the impression that the Elders are credit-crunchers. Lars began to chuckle, rubbing his chin as if he was visualizing those moments of triumph. If you can be trusted not to overact he ducked as she shook her fist at him you know, it might work. Of course it will work! I was able to gauge audience reactions to a pico. And more than just give you a well-deserved return for their meanness and chicanery to you, Ill pretend that Im so very nervous about a repetition of assault and battery that Ill need you by my side all the time. I think, Lars began, slowly, thoughtfully, Father and the others will like this plan. Lars gave a rueful snort. I got rather soundly told off for acting in a unilateral fashion when I abducted you, you know. My father

Stand under the green-wood tree.

into the scout ship? she asked softly, trying to lighten his penitence. Not quite, he said with a weak chuckle, but, still holding her hand, he straightened up, leaning forward, toward her, on his elbows. His face looked bleached of tan, lines of anxiety and fear aging him. Trag and my father have combined their wits and Im to he arrested by the warrant Trag has. Dont worry, and he patted her hands as she reacted apprehensively, remembering Trags remarks about using the warrant. Carefully worded, the warrant will charge me with a lot of heinous crimes that werent actually committed by me, but which will keep Ampris and Torkes happy in anticipation of the dire punishment which the Federated Courts dispense for crimes of such magnitude. Killashandra grabbed tightly at his hands, ignoring the spasm of pain across her chest in her fear for him. I dont like the idea, Lars, not one little bit. Neither my father nor Trag are likely to put me in jeopardy, Killa. Weve managed a lot while you were sleeping it off. When were sure that the scout ship is about to arrive, Trag will confer with Ampris and Torkes, confronting them with his suspicions about me in your delirium you inadvertently blew the gaff. Trag is not about to let such a desperate person as me escape unpunished. He has held his counsel to prevent my escaping justice. Theres something about this plan that alarms me. Id be more alarmed if I had to stay behind, Lars said with a droll grin. Trag wont give the Elders time to interfere, and theyll be unable to protest a Federal Warrant when a Federation scout ship is collecting me and you and Trag. The beauty part is that the scouts the wrong shape to use the shuttle port facility. Its security arrangements require open-space landing anyhow. That way my father has a chance of boarding her. I see. The scheme did sound well-planned, and yet some maggot of doubt niggled at Killashandra but her unease could well arise from her poor state of health. How did Olav get invited here? Hed been called in by the Elders on an administrative detail. Why so few islanders attend concerts Lars had regained considerable equilibrium and he rose from his knees, still holding her hand, to sit beside her on the bed. Who did attack me, Lars? Some desperate people whose families and friends had been scooped up by that search and seize. If only Id been free to get into the marketplace, Olver would have warned me of the climate of the digital camera picture maker City. Wed have known not to let you walk about. As Corish and I left the Facility, a woman who gave me such a look of hatred You were spotted long before she saw you, Sunny, driving down from the Conservatory. If only Id been with you Dont fret about ifs, Lars Dahl! A few aches and pains achieved what the best laid plans might have failed to do. Larss face was a study in shocked indignation. Do you know how badly you were hurt? Hauness wasnt kidding when he said you could have died from any one of those wounds, let alone all of them together. He held her hand in a crushing grip. I thought you were dead when Corish brought you back. I A sudden look of embarrassment rippled across his stern face. The one time you really needed a bodyguard, I wasnt there! As you can see, it takes a lot to kill a crystal singer. I noticed, and dont wish to ever again. Unwittingly he had reminded them both of the inescapable fact that their idyll was nearly over. Killashandra couldnt bear to think of it and quickly evaded further discussion of that. Lars, she said plaintively, at the risk of appearing depressingly basic, Im hungry! Lars stared at her in consternation for a moment but he accepted her evasion and his understanding smile began to replace the sadness in his eyes. So am I. Lars leaned forward to kiss her, gently at first and then with an urgency that showed Killashandra the depths of his apprehension for her. Then, with a spring in his step and a jaunty set to his shoulders, he went in search of food. Killashandra did have to endure the official apologies and insincere protestations of the Elders, all nine of them. She made the obligatory responses, consoling herself with the thought that their days were numbered, and she would shorten that number as much as possible. She pretended to be far weaker than she actually was, for once the symbiont began its work, her recovery was markedly swift. But, for official visits, she managed to assume the appearance of debility so that her convalescence had to be supervised by Nahia and Hauness, skilled medical practitioners that they were. This gave the conspirators ample time to plan an orderly and discreet exodus of people in jeopardy from Elderly tyrannies. Olav had smuggled his miniature detector unremarked into the

If you will but listen a while;

legs down, gripping the overhang, and let go. Her knees took the jar and she leaned against the wall for a moment just as she heard the men emerge from the organ room. Shell have gone back to the Complex, Thyrol said, breathless with anger. He hurried across the stage, followed by the others. Simcon, if you have offended the Guildmember, you may have jeopardized far more than you have protected The heavy door closed off the rest of his reprimand. Somewhat mollified by Thyrols attitude and pleased with her timely evasion, Killashandra dusted off her hands and moved toward the clearly marked exit door at the outer edge of the amphitheater. Even the soft sound of the brushing was echoed by the fine acoustics. Grimacing, Killashandra stepped as cautiously and as silently as she could toward the exit. The heavy door had the usual push-bar on the inside, which she depressed, holding her breath lest it be locked from a control point. The bar swung easily out. She opened it only wide enough to permit her egress and it closed with a thunk behind her. Its exterior was without handle or knob for reentry and a flange protected it from being forced open if such a circumstance ever arose on perfect Optheria. Killashandra now found herself on a long ledge which led to one of the switchback paths she had seen yesterday, though this one was at the rear of the Complex. From that height she had a view of an unpretentious area of the City, to judge by the narrow streets and the small single-story buildings crowded together. Between it and the Complex heights lay a stretch of cultivated plots, each planted with bushy climbing plants and fenced off from its neighbors, and most of them neat. In several, people were busily watering and hoeing in the early morning sunlight. A rural scene served as a restorative to Killashandras exacerbated nerves. She began her descent. As she reached the valley floor, her nose was assailed by the unmistakable aroma of fermenting brew. Delighted, Killashandra followed the odor, squeezing past an old shed, traversing the narrow path between allotments, nodding polite greetings to the gardeners who paused in their labors to regard her with astonishment. Well, she was wearing a costume which marked her as alien to Optheria, but surely these people had encountered aliens before. The aroma lured her on. If it tasted half as good as it smelled, it would be an improvement on the Bascum brew. Of course it could be Bascum, for video camera 8mm vs digital breweries were often situated in suburbs where the fumes would not irritate the fastidious. She reached the dirt road that served as main artery for the settlement, deserted at that morning hour except for some small, peculiar-looking animals basking in the sun. She was aware of being watched, but as that was only to be expected, she continued her inspection of the unprepossessing buildings facing the road. The brew-smell continued to permeate the air but intensified to her right. Common sense indicated that the wide gray structure on the far side of the road some thousand meters away was probably the source. She headed there. As she walked she heard doors and windows open behind her, marking her passage to her objective. She permitted herself a small smile of amusement. Human nature did not change and anything new and unusual would be marked in a society as dull and repressed as she suspected Optherias was. The brew-smell was almost overpowering by the time she reached the gray building. An exhaust fan was extracting the air from the roof, its motor laboring. Although there was no sign or legend on the building to indicate its purpose, Killashandra was not deterred. A locked front door, however, did pose an obstacle. She rapped politely and repeated her knock when it brought no immediate response. Thumping on the door also produced no results, and Killashandra felt determination replace courtesy. Was brewing illegal in Optherias largest city? Or could it be brewing without due license? After all, Bascum originated on Optheria and might have a monopoly. To be sure, she hadnt paid much attention to what plants were being so carefully tended in the gardens. Home industry? Thwarting the ever vigilant and repressive Elders? Quickly she stepped around the building and toward its rear, hoping to find a window. She caught a glimpse of a running juvenile body and heard it raise its voice in warning. So she raced around the corner to find the rear doors folded back on a scene of much industry as men and women supervised the bottling of a brew from an obviously improvised vat. The young messenger took one look at her and fled, ducking down the nearest alley. May a thirsty stranger to this planet have a sample of your brew? Im perishing for lack of a decent glass. Killashandra could, when she exerted herself, be smoothly charming and ingratiating. Shed played the part often enough. She glanced from one stony expression

If in this heart a hope be dear,

peasant indifference. Casey Brown was squatting on the deck abreast the engine-room, working on the big bailsilencer on top of the batch-cover. Dusty Miller, two paces farther for'ard and with his brows furrowed in concentration, was laboriously cutting a section of metal from a little tin box, presumably to help in the engine repairs. He was holding the wire-cutting pliers in his left handand Miller, Mallory knew, was right-handed. Neither Stevens nor Andrea had moved. The man beside the foremast still stood there, eyes unwinking. The other two were walking slowly aft, bad just passed Andrea, their carriage relaxed and easy, the bearing of men who know they have everything so completely under control that even the idea of trouble is ridiculous. Carefully, coldly and precisely, at point-blank range and through the folds of both coat and sail, Mallory shot the Spandau machine-gunner through the heart, swung the still chattering Bren round and saw the guard by the mast crumple and die, half his chest torn away by the tearing slugs of the machine-gun. But the dead man was still on his feet, still had not hit the deck, when four things happened simultaneously. Casey Brown had had his band on Miller's silenced automatic, lying concealed beneath the ball-silencer, for over a minute. Now he squeezed the trigger four times, for he wanted to mak' siccar; the after machine-gunner leaned forward tiredly over his tripod, lifeless fingers locked on the firing-guard. Miller crimped the three-second chemical fuse with the pliers, lobbed the tin box into the enemy engine-room, Stevens spun the armed stick-grenade into the opposite wheelhouse and Andrea, his great arms reaching out with all the speed and precision of striking cobras, swept the Schmeisser gunners' beads together with sickening force. And then all five men had hurled themselves to the deck and the German caique was erupting in a roar of flame and smoke and flying debris: gradually the echoes faded away over the sea and there was left only the whining stammer of the Spandau, emptying itself uselessly skyward; and then the belt jammed and the Aegean was as silent as ever, more silent than it had ever been. Slowly, painfully, dazed by the sheer physical shock and the ear-shattering proximity of the twin explosions, Mallory pushed himself off the wooden deck and stood shakily on his feet. His first conscious reaction was that of surprise, incredulity almost: the concussive blast of a grenade and a couple of lashed blocks of T.N.T., even at such close range, digital camera best aperature range was far beyond anything he had expected. The German boat was sinking, sinking fast. Miller's home-made bomb must have torn, the bottom out of the engine-room. She was heavily on fire amidships, and for one dismayed instant Mallory had an apprehensive yision of towering black columns of smoke and enemy reconnaissance planes. But only for an instant: timbers and planking, tinder-dry and resinous, were burning furiously with hardly a trace of smoke, and the flaming, crumbling deck was already canted over sharply to port: she would be gone in seconds. His eyes wandered to the shattered skeleton of the wheelhouse, and he caught his breath suddenly when he saw the lieutenant impaled on the splintered wreck of the wheel, a ghastly, mangled caricature of what had once been a human being, decapitated and wholly horrible: vaguely, some part of Mallory's mind registered the harsh sound of retching, violent and convulsive, coming from the wheelhouse, and he knew Stevens must have seen it too. From deep within the sinking caique came the muffled roar of rupturing fuel tanks: a flame-veined gout of oily black smoke erupted from the engine-room and the caique miraculously struggled back on even keel, her gunwales almost awash, and then the hissing waters had overflowed and overcome the decks and the twisting flames, and the caique was gone, her slender masts sliding vertically down and vanishing in a turbulent welter of creaming foam and oil-filmed bubbles. And now the Aegean was calm and peaceful again, as placid as if the caique had never been, and almost as empty: a few charred planks and an inverted helmet drifted lazily on the surface of the shimmering sea. With a conscious effort of will, Mallory turned slowly to look to his own ship and his own men. Brown and Miller were on their feet, staring down in fascination at where the caique had been, Stevens was standing at the wheelhouse door. He, too, was unhurt, but his face was ashen: during the brief action he had been a man above himself, but the aftermath, the brief glimpse he'd had of the dead lieutenant had hit him badly. Andrea, bleeding from a gash on the cheek, was looking down at the two Schmeisser gunners lying at his feet. His face was expressionless. For a long moment Mallory looked at him, looked in slow understanding. "Dead?" he asked quietly. Andrea inclined

"O wind thy horn, thou proud fellow,

unexpected familiarity, secretly pleased. "None of yoU know him. But I know him." He gestured towards the watch-tower, its squarecut lines in sharp silhouette against the darkening sky. "Just a big, fat, good-natured chap, always laughing and joking." Mallory paused, shook his head again, went on slowly. "He's up there now, padding through that forest like a cat, the biggest and most dangerous cat you'll ever see. Unless they offer no resistanceAndrea never kills unnecessarilywhen I send him up there after these three poor bastards I'm executing them just as surely as if they were in the electric chair and I was pulling the switch." In spite of himself Miller was impressed, profoundly so. "Known him a long time, boss, huh?" It was half question, half statement. "A long time. Andrea was in the Albanian warhe was in the regular army. They tell me the Italians went in terror of himhis long-range patrols against the 'Iulia division, the Wolves of Tuscany, did more to wreck the Italian morale in Albania than any other single factor. Fve heard a good many stories about themnot from Andreaand they're all incredible. And they're all true. But it was afterwards I met him, when we were trying to hold the Servia Pass. I was a very junior liaison lieutenant in the Anzac brigade at the time. Andrea"he paused deliberately for effect"Andrea was a lieutenant-colonel in the 19th Greek Motorised Division." "A what?" Miller demanded in astonishment. Stevens and Brown were equally incredulous. "You heard me. Lieutenant-colonel. Outranks me by a fairish bit, you might say." He smiled at them quizzically. 'Puts Andrea In rather a different light, doesn't it?" They nodded silently but said nothing. The genial, hail-fellow Andreaa good-natured, almost simpleminded buffoona senior army officer. The idea had come too suddenly, was too incongruous for easy assimilation and immediate comprehension. But, gradually, it began to make sense to them. It explained many things about Andrea to themhis repose, his confidence, the unerring sureness of his lightning reactions, and, above all, the implicit faith Mallory had in him, the respect he showed for Andrea's opinions whenever he consulted him, which was frequently. Without surprise now, Miller slowly recalled that he'd never yet heard Mallory give Andrea a direct order. And Mallory never hesitated to pull his rank when necessary. "After Servia," Mallory went on, "everything was pretty w8 samsung digital camera confused. Andrea had heard that Trikkalaa small country town where his wife and three daughters livedhad been flattened by the Stukas and Heinkels. He reached there all right, but there was nothing he could do. A land-mine had landed in the front garden and there wasn't even rubble left." Mallory paused, lit a cigarette. He stared through the drifting smoke at the fading outlines of the tower. "The only person he found there was his brother-in-law, George. George was with us in Cretehe's still there. From George he heard for the first time of the Bulgarian atrocities in Thrace and Macedoniaand his parents lived there. So they dressed in German uniformsyou can imagine how Andrea got thosecommandeered a German army truck and drove to Protosami." The cigarette in Mallory's hand snapped suddenly, was sent spinning over the side. Miller was vaguely surprised: emotion, or rather, emotional displays, were so completely foreign to that very tough New Zealander. But Mallory went on quietly enough. "They arrived in the evening of the infamous Protosami massacre. George has told me how Andrea stood there, clad in his German uniform and laughing as he watched a party of nine or ten Bulgarian soldiers lash couples together and throw them into the river. The first couple in were his father and stepmother, both dead." "My Gawd above!" Even Miller was shocked out of his usual equanimity. "It's just not possible" "You know nothing," Mallory interrupted impatiently. "Hundreds of Greeks in Macedonia died the same waybut usually alive when they were thrown in. Until you know how the Greeks hate the Bulgarians, you don't even begin to know what hate is. . . . Andrea shared a couple of bottles of wine with the soldiers, found out that they had killed his parents earlier in the afternoonthey had been foolish enough to resist. After dusk he followed them up to an old corrugated-iron shed where they were billeted for the night. All he had was a knife. They left a guard outside. Andrea broke his neck, went inside, locked the door and smashed the oil lamp. George doesn't know what happened except that Andrea went berserk. He was back outside in two minutes, completely sodden, his uniform soaked in blood from head to foot. There wasn't a sound, not even a groan to be heard from the hut when they left, George says." He paused again, but this time there was no interruption, nothing said. Stevens shivered, drew his shabby jacket closer round his

Then to it each goes, and followd their blows,

Ampris is too pleased with this development. Yes, and fretting with impatience. Killashandra mimicked his hand gesture and Lars nodded grimly. Is it just that he wants the organ done? Or us out of the loft for good? She swiveled slightly so that she was facing the wall they could not shift. Why? She bit one corner of her lip, trying to solve its mystery. Then, with an exclamation, she ran her hands around the casing of the manual, picked up the lid and examined it closely. What are you looking for, Killa? Blood! Did you see any discoloration on the shards you handled? No If Camgail was killed by, and he gestured at the newly placed crystal spires, there would have been blood somewhere here! Was there only the official version of Comgails end? No. I had a chance to speak with one of the infirmary attendants and she said that he was covered in blood, crystal fragments had pierced eyes, face, and chest. With a little help, perhaps? But do you know for certain that it was Comgail who shattered the manual? Lars nodded slowly, his eyes gray and bleak, his face expressionless. And he had mentioned earlier that he knew the access to the subliminal units was through the organ loft? Again Lars nodded and both stared at the wall. Comgail did all the maintenance on the Festival organ? At Larss impassive nod, Killashandra scrubbed at her face with one hand. Did Ampris ever compose or perform? she asked in angry exasperation. The look of total surprise on Larss face gave her the answer. No wonder hes been bouncing about here, Lars cried, seizing Killashandra and hugging her with the excess of his jubilation. No wonder hes been so eager to get the manual repaired. He cant get to the subliminal units until it is. He cant alter the subliminals for this years concerts. Oh, Killa! Youve done it. Not quite, Killashandra said with a laugh. Im only hypothesizing that the manual provides the unlocking mechanism. Weve no idea what sort of music key hed use. It could be anything No, not anything, Lars cried, shaking his head and grinning, his eyes vividly blue again. Id stake my life I know what hed use I wish you wouldnt use a phrase like that, Killashandra murmured. Lars gave her a reassuring grin and went canon a570 is digital camera on. Remember what you said about bureaucracy finding one mechanism that suited them? Well, Ampriss one and only Festival offering utilizes a recurrent theme. But everyone on the planet would know it then. What difference would that make? Youd still have to have access to this manual, wouldnt you? True. Whats the theme? Its a real thumpety-dump, and he da-da-ed the notes to Killashandras utter amazement. Not only is it thumpty-dumpety-dump, its complete and utter plagiarism. Ampris lifted that theme from an 18th Century composer named Beethoven. Who? Killashandra lifted her hands in exasperation. Enough of this idle speculation, Lars, weve got to finish the organ as fast as possible. What about Trag? Killashandra shook her head. Trag is no threat to us. If we could just get the bass noted finished, wed have something to show him. I hope. She dropped a set of brackets into Larss hands and took another for herself. You wouldnt happen to know the signature of Ampriss composition? When Lars shook his head, she cursed briefly and then began to chuckle. Well just try the original one! Because they were rushing, nervous with anticipation and hope, hands sweating from tension, it seemed to take three or four attempts to place each of the next three crystals. Lars was muttering imprecations by the time Killashandra could test the third one. No sooner had she struck the crystal than the door panel slid open and the aperture was filled by Trags bulky figure. Trag, I bless your timely arrival. Were both fingers and thumbs trying to set this manual. A fresh hand and a sane mind will work wonders! Trag gave her a nod of his head and stepped inside, giving Lars a cursory glance before his attention was completely taken by a critical appraisal of their endeavors. Killashandra ignored the entrance of Ampris, Torkes, Thyrol, and Mirbethan, who filed slowly into the room in Trags wake. Trag picked up the tuning hammer and struck each of the crystals. Trag merely nodded his head. Lars made a noise of protest but Killashandra shot him a warning glance. The fact that Trag had no comments to make was all the approval she required, knowing better than to expect overt praise from him. For a very fleeting moment, however, she was seized with a totally irrational