Then she went to bed and slept.

The next morning, she and the other recruits learned the organization of the Guild Complex and were obliquely informed that the higher the level, the lower the status. They were introduced rapidly to the geology of Ballybran and made a beginning with its complex meteorology.

Trouble started about mid afternoon as the students were viewing the details of the Charter of the Heptite Guild as a diversion after meta-maths. Rimbol muttered that the Guild was damned autocratic for a member of the Federated Planets. Shillawn, swallowing first, mumbled about data retrieval and briefing.

It took a few moments before the import of the section dealing with tithes, fee, and charges was fully understood. With a growing sense of indignation, Killashandra learned that from the moment she had been sworn in at the moon base as a recruit, the Guild could charge her for any and all services rendered, including a fee of transfer from the satellite to the planet.

“Do they charge, too, for the damn spores in the air we're breathing?” Carigana demanded, characteristically the first to find voice after the initial shock For once, she had the total support of the others. With a fine display of vituperation, she vented her anger on Tukolom, the visible representative of the Guild that she vehemently declared had exploited the unsuspecting.

“Told you were,” Tukolom replied, unexpectedly raising his voice to top hers. “Available to you was that data at Shankill. The charter in the data is.”

“How would we have known to ask?” Carigana retorted, her anger fueled by his answer. “This narding Guild keeps its secrets so well, you're not led to expect a straight answer to a direct question!”

"Thinking surely you would," Tukolom said, unruffled and with an irony that surprised Killashandra. "Maintenance charges only at cost are – "

"No where else in the galaxy do students have to pay for subsistence – "

“Students you are not.” Tukolom was firm. “Guild members are you!”

Not even Carigana could find a quick answer to that. She glared around her, her flashing eyes begging someone to have a rejoinder.

“Trapped us, haven't you?” She spat the words at the man. “Good and truly trapped. And we walked so obligingly into it.” She flung herself down on the seating unit, her hands flopping uselessly about her thighs.

"Once trained, salary far above galactic average," Tukolom announced diplomatically into the silence. "Most indebtedness cleared by second year. Then – every wish satisfy. Order any thing from any place in galaxy." He tendered a thin smile of encouragement. ''Guild credit good anywhere for anything."

“That's not much consolation for being stuck on this planet for the rest of your life,” Carigana replied with a snarl.

Once she had absorbed the initial shock, Killashandra was willing to admit that the Guild method was fair. Its members must be furnished with private quarters, food, clothing, personal necessities, and medical care. Some of the specialists, the Singers especially, had a further initial outlay for equipment. The cost of the flitter craft used by Crystal Singers in the ranges was staggering the sonic cutting gear that had to be tuned to the user was also expensive and a variety of other items whose purpose was not yet known to her were basic Singer's tools.

Obviously, the best job to have on Ballybran was that of a Crystal Singer even if the Guild did “tithe” 30 percent of the crystal cut and brought in. She duly noted the phrase, brought in, and wondered if she could find a vocabulary section in the data bank that would define words in precisely the nuance meant on Ballybran. Interlingual was accurate enough, but every profession has terms that sound familiar, seem innocuous, and are dangerous to the incompletely initiated.

A wide variety of supporting skills put the Singers into the ranges, maintained the vehicles, buildings, space station, research, medical facilities, and the administration of it all. Twenty thousand technicians, essential to keep the four thousand or so Singers working, and this very elite group was somehow recruited from the galaxy.

The argument over entrapment, as Carigana vehemently insisted on calling it, continued long after Tukolom left. Killashandra noticed him as he gradually worked his way from the center of the explosion, almost encouraging Carigana to become the focus, then adroitly slipped down a corridor. He's pulled the fade-away act before, Killashandra thought. Perversely, she then became annoyed because she and her group were reacting predictably; it was one thing to have a stage director prescribe your moves on stage, quite another to be manipulated in one's living. She had thought to be free of overt management, so she experienced a surge of anger. To rant as Carigana was doing solved nothing except the immediate release of an energy and purpose that could be used to better advantage.

Ignoring Carigana's continuing harangue, Killashandra quietly moved to a small terminal and asked for a review of the Charter. After a few moment's study, she left the machine. There was no legal way in which one could relinquish membership in the Heptite Guild except by dying. Even in sickness, mental or physical, the Guild had complete protective authority over every member so sworn, averred, and affirmed. Now she appreciated the FSP officials and the elaborate rigmarole. On the other hand, she had been told; she could have withdrawn after full disclosure if she hadn't been so eager to flaunt Maestro Valdi and prove to Andurs that she'd be right as a Crystal Singer. The section on the Guild's responsibilities to the individual member was clear. Killashandra would see definite advantages, including the ones that had lured her to Ballybran. If she became a Crystal Singer . . . She preferred “Singer” to the Guild's dull job description, “Cutter.”

“Ever the optimist, Killa?” Rimbol asked. He must have been standing behind her a while.

“Well, I prefer that role to hers.” She inclined her head sharply in Carigana's direction. “She's beating her gums over ways to break a contract that we were warned was irrevocable.”

“D'you suppose they count on our being obstinate by nature?”

“Obviously, they have psychologists among the membership.” Killashandra laughed. “You want what you can't or shouldn't have or are denied. Human nature.”

“Will we still be human after symbiosis?” Rimbol wondered aloud, cocking his head to one side, His eyes narrow with speculation.

“I can't say as I'd like Borella for an intimate friend,” Killashandra began.

“Nor I.” Rimbol's laugh was infectious.

“I did hear her come out with a very human, snide comment on the shuttle.”

“About us?”

"In general. But I liked Carrik. He knew how to enjoy things, even silly things, and – "

Rimbol touched her arm, and the glint of his blue eyes reminded her of the look in Carrik's when they'd first met.

“Comparisons are invidious but . . . join me!”

Killashandra gave him a longer, speculative look. His gaiety and ingenuous appearance, his gregariousness, were carefully cultivated to counterbalance his unusual coloring. The expression on his face, the warmth of his eyes and smile, and the gentle stroking of his hand on her arm effected a distinct change in her attitude toward him.

“Guaranteed Privacy between members of equal rank.” His voice was teasing and she had no desire to resist his temptation.

With Carigana's strident voice in their ears, they slipped down the corridor to her room and enjoyed complete Privacy.

The next morning Tukolom marshaled Class 895, some of whom were decidedly the worse for a night's drinking.

“Borton, Jezerey, also Falanog, qualified are you already on surface and shuttle craft. To take your pilot cards to Flight Control on first level. Follow gray strip down, turn right twice, Guild Member Danin see. All others of this class with me are coming.”