Tukolom led without turning to discover if he was being followed, but the class, sullen or just resigned, obeyed. Shillawn stepped in behind Killashandra and Rimbol.

“I figured it out,” he said with his characteristic gulp. His anxiety to please was so intense that Killashandra asked him what had he figured out. “How much it will all cost until we start earning credits. And . . . and what the lowest credit rating is. It's not too bad, really. Guild charges at cost and doesn't add a tariff for transport or special orders.”

“Having done us to get us here, they're not out to do us further, huh?”

«Well» – and Shillawn had to shuffle awkwardly to keep a position where his words would be audible only to Rimbol and Killashandra – «it is fair.»

Rimbol shrugged. “So, what is the lowest Guild wage? And how long will it take to pay off what we're racking up just by breathing?”

«Well» – Shillawn held up his jotter – «the lowest wage is for a caterer's assistant and that brings in three thousand five hundred credits plus Class three accommodations, clothing allowance and two hundred luxury units per standard year. We're charged at the base-level accommodations, shuttle passage was only fifteen cr, but any unusual item from catering – except two beakers of beverages up to Grade four – is charged against the individual's account. So, if you don't eat exotic, or drink heavy, you'd clear off the initial levies at a c.a.'s pay in» – Shillawn had to skip after them as he glanced down at his jotter and lost his stride – «in seven months, two weeks and five days' standard.»

Rimbol caught Killashandra's eye, and she could see that the young Yarran was hard put to suppress his laughter.

“Why did you only consider the lowest-paid member, Shillawn?” she asked, managing to keep her voice level.

“Well, that was practical.”

“You mean, you didn't compute any of the higher grades?”

“The highest-paid position is that of the Guild Master, and such information is not available.”

“You did try?” Now it was Killashandra's turn to have to skip ahead or be over run by Shillawn's long legs.

“I wanted to see just what areas are open to the average member . . .”

“How high could you retrieve data?”

“That's the good part,” Shillawn beamed down at them. “The next rank after Guild Master is Crystal Cutter Singer, I mean. Only the credit varies too erratically, depending as it does on how much usable crystal a Cutter brings in.” “If Crystal Singers are second, who's third in rank?”

“Chief of Research, Chief of Control, and Chief of Marketing. All on equal rating.”

“Credit per year?”

“Their base pay is 300,000 pgy, plus living, entertainment, travel, and personal allowances 'to be determined'.”

The base figure was sufficient to draw an appreciative whistle from Rimbol.

“And, of course, you're going to be Chief of Control, I expect,” a new voice said and the three friends realized that Carigana had been listening.

Shillawn flushed at her sarcasm.

“And you'll be chief rant-and-raver,” Rimbol said, unexpectedly acerbic, his blue eyes signaling dislike.

Carigana flipped her thumbnail at him and strode on, head high, shoulders and back stiffly straight.

“Any sympathy I had for that woman is fast giving place to total antipathy,” Rimbol said, making an even more insulting gesture at the space worker's back.

With her head start on the rest of Class 895, Carigana was first to reach the ground-craft depot, but she had to wait until the flight officer checked in all thirty. They were taken to a large section inside a gigantic hangar that housed three vehicles on simulation stands: a skimmer, the general work craft, which could be adapted for variations of atmosphere and gravity and could be driven by children. A single bar controlled forward, reverse, and side movement. The skimmer had no great speed but plowed its air cushion with equal efficiency over land, water, snow, mud, ice, sand, or rock. Its drive could be adapted to a variety of fuels and power sources.

The second stand simulated an air sled, not as clumsy as its name implied and capable of considerable speed and maneuverability. It was the long-haul craft, the Crystal Cutter's official vehicle, capable of delivering cargo and passengers to any point on Ballybran.

The third simulator was a satellite shuttle, it caused Rimbol's eyes to widen appreciatively, but Killashandra sincerely hoped she would not be asked to pilot it.

Though all were bored by waiting their turn, Killashandra had no trouble with the skimmer simulation. The sled was more complex, but she felt she acquitted herself fairly well, though she'd certainly want a lot more practice in the vehicle before flying any distance.

“You know who failed the skimmer test?” Rimbol asked, joining her as she emerged from the air sled.

“Shillawn?” But then she saw the gangly man still waiting on line.

“No. Carigana!”

“How could anyone not be able to fly a skimmer?”

"A skimmer needs a light hand." Rimbol's smile was malicious. "Carigana's used to a space suit. Ever noticed how she always turns her entire body around to face you? That's from wearing a servomech for so long. That's why her movements are so jerky, over corrected. She over reacts. too. As we all know. Hey, we'd better scurry. Instructor Tukolom" – and Rimbol grinned at the title with which the flight officer had pointedly addressed their tutor – says we're due back at the training lounge for the afternoon's entrancing lectures."

Carigana might well have been floating in deep space in a servomech suit for all the notice she gave to Tukolom's recitations on the care and packing of crystal cuttings. He informed Class 895 that they must pay strict attention to these procedures, as one of their first official tasks for their Guild would be to prepare crystal for export. As he spoke – he reminded them – Crystal Cutters were in the ranges, making the most of the mild spring weather and the favorable aspects of the moons. When the Cutters returned, Class 895 would be privileged to have its first experience with handling crystal, in all its infinite variety . . . and value.

The reverence with which Tukolom made the announcement showed Killashandra a new and unexpected facet of the humorless instructor. Did crystal affect even those who did not sing it? How long had Tukolom been a Guild member? Not that she really wanted to know. She was just intrigued by his uncharacteristic radiance when discussing, of all the dull subjects, the packing of crystal.

As soon as Tukolom released the class from the lecture, she murmured something about returning in a moment to Rimbol and slipped away to her room. She drew out the console and tapped the Flight Office, requesting the use of a skimmer for personal relaxation. The display spilled out a confirmation that she could use vehicle registry VZD7780 for two hours, confined to over land flight.

As she slipped from her room, she was relieved to see Rimbol's door open. He was still in the lounge, so she suppressed the vague disquiet she felt about sneaking off without him. Her first visit to the crystal ranges was better experienced as a solo. Besides, if Rimbol and Shillawn couldn't figure out how to obtain a clearance, they didn't deserve one.

The vast hangar complex was eerily empty. A light breeze sighed through the vacant racks for Singers' air sleds as Killashandra hurried to the skimmer section. An air sled engine revved unexpectedly and caused her to leap inches off the plascrete surface; then she saw the cluster of mechanics on the far side of the building, where lights exposed the sled's drive section.

Killashandra finally located the VZD rack and her assigned craft at the top of the skimmer section. The vehicle was sand-scraped, although the plasglas bubble was relatively unscathed. She climbed in, backed the skimmer carefully clear of the rack, and proceeded from the hangar at a sedate pace.