directed her investigations of the caterer’s potential with the amused tolerance of the mature traveler, and accompanied her to shipboard activities. On one or two occasions, she had the urge to shock himwith her true identity just to see how he might react, but she repressed that whimsy.
Then, after a particularly bibulous evening, when she had taken an extra long radiant bath, she encountered him in the gymnasium. He was sweating profusely, working out against a hefty weight on the apparatus with apparent ease. Stripped as he was for the exercise, Killashandra could appreciate that Corish’s lean frame was suspiciously well muscled and fine tuned for his public image.
“I didn’t know you were a gymnast!”
“It’s only smart to keep fit, Killashandra Ree.” He whipped a towel about his shoulders and mopped his face. “Where’ve you been?”
Killashandra managed a blush of embarrassment, dropping her eyes and affecting mortification.
“I tried that radiant stuff. In the tank,” and she pointed vaguely in the right direction. “That blonde girl from Kachachurian was saying that it was good for hang-overs!” She kicked at the apparatus base with her toe, eyes still downcast.
“Well, is it?”
“I think it is.” She allowed some doubt in her tone. “At least that awful spinning has stopped … and the nausea!” She put one hand to her head and the other to her stomach. “I think I may have to go back to Fuertan beer. I could always drink as much of that as I wanted. Or is it something to do with traveling in space? My brother did say something about that …” She looked up at Corish. “Isn’t this a funny time to be working out?”
“That’s how I work alcohol out of my system,” Corish said, pulling on his shirt. “I’ll see you back to your cabin. You really shouldn’t be wandering about the ship at this hour. Someone might get the wrong impression about you.”
As Killashandra permitted him to escort her back, she wondered why he was rushing her out of the gym. She felt she had deftly accounted for her presence. And naively accepted his explanation. Safely returned to her cabin, she agreed to meet him as usual for breakfast the next morning, and dutifully went to bed.
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?
A s 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.
Then, after a particularly bibulous evening, when she had taken an extra long radiant bath, she encountered him in the gymnasium. He was sweating profusely, working out against a hefty weight on the apparatus with apparent ease. Stripped as he was for the exercise, Killashandra could appreciate that Corish’s lean frame was suspiciously well muscled and fine tuned for his public image.
“I didn’t know you were a gymnast!”
“It’s only smart to keep fit, Killashandra Ree.” He whipped a towel about his shoulders and mopped his face. “Where’ve you been?”
Killashandra managed a blush of embarrassment, dropping her eyes and affecting mortification.
“I tried that radiant stuff. In the tank,” and she pointed vaguely in the right direction. “That blonde girl from Kachachurian was saying that it was good for hang-overs!” She kicked at the apparatus base with her toe, eyes still downcast.
“Well, is it?”
“I think it is.” She allowed some doubt in her tone. “At least that awful spinning has stopped … and the nausea!” She put one hand to her head and the other to her stomach. “I think I may have to go back to Fuertan beer. I could always drink as much of that as I wanted. Or is it something to do with traveling in space? My brother did say something about that …” She looked up at Corish. “Isn’t this a funny time to be working out?”
“That’s how I work alcohol out of my system,” Corish said, pulling on his shirt. “I’ll see you back to your cabin. You really shouldn’t be wandering about the ship at this hour. Someone might get the wrong impression about you.”
As Killashandra permitted him to escort her back, she wondered why he was rushing her out of the gym. She felt she had deftly accounted for her presence. And naively accepted his explanation. Safely returned to her cabin, she agreed to meet him as usual for breakfast the next morning, and dutifully went to bed.
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?
A s 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.
Similar Books
