Jo Clayton: Crystal Heat

“See. You do know what you want.”

“But that kind of thing doesn’t put fuel in my ship or food in my belly. That’s why I signed up with Digby in the first place. I do the jobs while he takes care of logistics. Seemed like it’d be the perfect blend. Tsah!”

“While you’re on University, why not talk to Aslan? She might have some ideas.”

“I don’t think so, Lee. She’s a friend and I like her, but she’s very much into the University ethos. I’m not, and I don’t want to be.”

“Picky. Hm. A while back you said you were getting royalties off your lightsailors. I’ve started hearing about them, I do still get some of the gossip on Wolff, and word is they’re hot. You might be making more than you think. And if you could come up with some-thing else Adelaar could handle for you…”

“I suppose I’d better check with Ti Vnok and see what’s happening. I don’t really count on them much, Lee. Fads explode and wither so fast, sometimes, you blink and they’re gone. Or the Gray Market rips off the design and undercuts your prices.” She twisted her face into a clown’s sad grimace. “And don’t tell me I’ve gone all negative. It’s just… I don’t hive anything to aim at, Lee.”

“I know, Shadow. You’ve got to close out this bit first before you can look ahead. I’d tell you to stop fussing, but I expect that’s useless.” With a quick twist of her body Aleytys was on her feet. “You need your harp. I’ll have Doll bring it out to you. And you can pay your way with a concert tonight. Lylunda and I-and Tigatri, of course-we’ll be your guests.

19. Report and Farewell

Shadith stood irresolute for several minutes outside Digby’s branch office in Citystate Rhapsody, dredging through memory for any loophole she might have missed in the story she’d cobbled to cover the abstraction of the Taalav. She passed her hand over her hair, patted the soft springy curls into place. She needed a trim, but she wasn’t going to bother with that now. Once her report was finished, she was booked on a flier heading for the Landing Field and on a shuttle to take her to the University Transfer Station and her own ship. Digby’s Backhoe was parked up there too, but she wasn’t going near that ship again. Then she’d make the jigs and jogs on the long and complicated flight to Vrithian. She was tired and unhappy. Some time spent in a place where she didn’t have to worry about any thing would be a blessing.

This street wasn’t far from Star Street and was busy this late summer morning. She was rather like a boulder diverting the flow momentarily of the traders, crew, and others moving past her in a steady stream. When she started to get annoyed stares, she sucked in a breath and plunged inside.

The Greeter ’bot having been programmed to admit her whenever she called, Shadith walked through into the inner office without having to wait. The office manager looked up. “Yes?”

“I need a Clear room and a connect to Digby. Tell him I’ve got the location and I’m ready to report.”

“We’ve just swept Two. Touch the announcer and I’ll let you through.”

“Thanks.” Shadith left and walked down a short hall,-tapped the annoucer outside door number two and waited for the massive plug to slide to one side. The Clear rooms were baffled and insulated, as free as possible from any sort of insinuation from outside.

She seated herself by the desk, moving her shoulders uneasily as the door slid shut and sealed itself. This was a bit too much like a cell to please her. If Digby got irritated enough at her quitting, it might run from security to prison between one breath and the next. She told herself that was crazy, he’d never shown any inclination to over-control his agents, but the unease wouldn’t go away. She leaned back, closed her eyes. While she was waiting for the connection to,;,so through, weariness swept over her and she drifted into a doze.

She woke with a start as a soft chime announced Digby’s arrival. When she opened her eyes he was sitting in a simulated armchair behind the desk, still in his professorial guise. He leaned forward, a lock of shining gray hairfalling across his brow, a grave and disapproving set to his face. “Why University, Shadith? I expected you to report to Spotchalls.”

“I had reasons for making the full, report here, Digby. I’ll explain them later. First, the location. In the Universal Catalog, the sun is listed as 87950 KLD MLYD. One of the stars in the Callidara Pseudo Cluster. The world in question is third from the sun. The xenobi’s name was Prangarris, a Herthite. He’s dead, by the way. The Taalav wrapped him in a crystal cocoon, then proceeded to follow him into death, leaving very few traces behind. A few crystals and some decayed organic matter with enough definition left to identify it as Taalav.”

“The transplant didn’t take?”

“From what I saw, definitely not.”

“The smuggler?”

“You told me we weren’t required to produce her. I see no reason to turn her over to the Kliu; they’ll have what they want. At the moment she’s on Wolff, visiting Aleytys until it’s safe to get on with her life.” She leaned forward, set a flake on the desk. “The complete report, everything I’ve done, everything I’ve learned about Hutsarte, my expenses-it’s all there.”

“So you’ve pulled it off again. Congratulations, Shadow. Good job.” He leaned back, the chair creaking realistically as he shifted his non-weight. “I have a feeling you’re not happy about this.”

“Vm not.” She went through the speech she’d worked out with Aleytys, finished, “When I saw they were dead, the problem went away. But when you lean on luck, it melts under you and you fall on your face. Who knows what I’ll come up against next time. So. No next, time. Why I’m here on University. No point in going all the way to Spotchalls just to say I quit.”

She pushed the chair back and got to her feet. “It’s been interesting, Digby. But it was a mistake from the beginning.”

He said nothing, didn’t try to stop her, simply watched as she left the room.

She was yawning as she palmed the lock on her apartment; all the strain of the job, all the suspicion and the chewing over and over of what might happen, how she could counter it, all that had caught up with her and weariness was like a blanket smothering her. What she wanted more than anything was to stretch out on her bed and sleep for a week.

Instead, she put on water to boil for tea, logged a call through one of the Rhapsody skipcoms and had a shower while she waited for it to go through.

Aleytys raised a brow. In the screen her face was slightly distorted and her skin had acquired a greenish tone, but her voice came through clearly enough. “I see you survived.”

“I took your advice and was tactful.” Shadith patted a yawn. “Spla, I’m tired. All tensed up and ready to act, then the whole thing just dribbled away. Whatever. Tell Lylunda she should probably hang about for the rest of the month, but after that the heat should be off her.” She yawned again. “You talked to Harskari yet?”

“About an hour ago, matter of fact. She says the injection is taking just fine and the new plants she picked up are thriving. She’ll be going back for more in a few months, give the source time to settle down. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“Probably I’ll go see if Swarda’s home. I need to talk to him. Then I’ll probably go have a look at Harskari’s garden.”

Aleytys’ mouth twitched; it wasn’t a smile. “I might join you for a few months. I’m tired of the sniping round here. Nice that your severance was a friendly one. And go get yourself some sleep, Shadow. You can start your new life tomorrow.”