He that did this quarrel first begin

and absolute As you say, isnt the only requirement for your profession? The major one. Ballybran is a Code Four planet What does that mean? Im an island lad from a iggerant planet, and Lars voice was rich with contempt. Dangerous. Singing crystal is rated a highly dangerous profession, limited to Type IV through VIII bipedal humanoids Are there any other kinds? Dont alien life forms come for the Festival? The Reticulans are avid musicologists though I could never come to terms with their croons as music. Are they the ones that look like an assembly of twigs on a barrel? The wardroom was empty and Lars swung her into his arms, kissing her passionately, stroking her body, murmuring endearments. But knowing that they could be interrupted at any time inhibited Killashandras response, even as she yearned for more. At a scraping sound, they broke apart, Killashandra sliding breathlessly into the nearest chair. What a delightful description of Reticulans! The barrel is mostly windbag but Ive never been close enough to discover which of their pseudopods are the pipes. Lars stopped pacing, for the noise in the companionway had ceased, and he came back to fondle her. A candidate for Guild membership has to pass Physical Fitness Test SG-I, Psychological Profile SG-I which youd never pass if you continue to do that, Lars and Education Level 3. Im not applying to the Guild, only applying a member This time the footsteps stopped and the door was slid back. Mr. Fernock entered, smiling broadly when he saw the occupants. Well be underway in ten minutes, Guildmember, thanks to your invaluable assistance. And well be able to make a reasonable enough speed on five shafts to reach our destination on time. How marvelous, Killashandra said in a languid drawl. Marvelous was not really the way she felt, considering the inner turmoil Larss caresses had stimulated. She couldnt get to the City and the Conservatory fast enough. Chapter 18 Fortunately Lars was equally frustrated by their lack of privacy and made no further overtures. Perversely, Killashandra missed them. The cruiser had broken out flags and a full honor guard for the ceremonial and triumphant return. Killashandra steeled herself for yet another protocologically correct reception. She reflected on what scene she could produce to shorten the tedium, and debated major supporters of the digital camera whether or not a scene would produce any advantage. She had made several points. Unless she had sufficient provocation, she decided to leave well enough alone. For now. She might need to produce an effect to gain privacy within her suite. For she was determined to enjoy Lars without any surveillance for whatever time remained to them. She could, of course, stretch out the organ repair as long as she wished. Or her instruction of technicians. She could include Lars in that program. He had the perfect and absolute pitch to tune crystal as well as the strength and manual dexterity required. She must do everything she could to make him indispensable to the Elders, for whatever protection that could provide him, since he didnt seem at all interested in leaving Optheria. Even if that were possible. Were near enough for you to have a spectacular view of the City Port, Lars said, interrupting her reflections. A natural port? She smiled. Completely, though not nearly as good a natural harbor as North. Naturally. Captain Festinel awaits your arrival on the bridge. How courteous! Wheres Torkes? Burning up a few communications units with orders. He was incensed that you had to bloody your hands on the drive of a mere cruiser. Doesnt he value his skin as much as I do mine? Her entry rated salutes, rigid attention from the seamen and a smile and a warm handshake from Festinel. She politely accepted his effusive thanks and then pointedly turned to watch the rapidly approaching shoreline. The City Port bustled with activity: small water taxis skipping across the waves, larger barges wallowing across their swells, and coastal freighters awaiting their turn at the piers which, with their array of mechanical unloading devices, were anything but natural. The cruisers velocity had moderated considerably now that it was in congested waters. Ponderously it approached the Federal docking area, where sleek courier vessels bobbed alongside two more squat cruisers. Killashandra had no difficulty identifying their berth it was crowded with a welcoming committee, all massed white and insipid pale colors, blurred faces turned seaward, despite the glare of the