“As long as it also requires an appeal to the Council,” Lars said. “Now what else brought you here so unexpectedly?”

“As I said, the search for the crystal singer exposed some unsuspected flaws in our organization. Theach and Erutown must ruralize. Have you another suitable island?”

Lars paused, staring at Hauness, and then the others. Erutown scowled and looked away but Theach regarded him with a smile.

“Some of my scribblings were discovered, and as I am already under threat of rehabilitation . . .” Theach shrugged eloquently.

When Lars looked to Erutown for an explanation, the man did not meet his gaze.

“Erutown was denounced as a recruiter,” Hauness said. “Not his fault.”

“It was, if I was daft enough to recruit such soft-bellied cowards!”

Lars grinned. “Well, I could put you ashore with the crystal singer.” Something increased his mirth out of proportion to the joke, though Hauness grinned and Nahia tried to control unseemly mirth at Erutown’s expense. “The island’s big enough and she might even be grateful for company.”

“I would be easier in mind about her safety if Erutown and Theach were there,” Nahia said. “The hurricane will have frightened her badly.”

“I don’t like the idea,” Erutown said.

“Actually, if she thinks you’ve also been kidnapped . . .” Hauness suggested, then gestured to dismiss his notion at Erutown’s negative response.

“I wouldn’t object,” Theach said. “One doesn’t know much about crystal singers, except that they heal quickly and indulge in an unusual profession.”

“You?” Erutown snorted contemptuously. “You’d probably drown yourself thinking up more theories.”

“When I initiate a session of theoretical thinking, I take the precaution of seating myself in some secure and secluded spot,” Theach said in amiable reprimand. “An island would suit me very well indeed.”

“You’d starve!”

“No one can starve on a polly island.” Theach turned for confirmation to Lars, who nodded.

“You have to work at it, though,” Lars amended. “For at least a few hours every day.”

“Despite a misapprehension current about my absent-mindedness, I have found that intense thought stimulates an incredible appetite. Since eating replenishes both body and the mechanics of thought, I do pause now and again in my meditations to eat! If I have to gather the food myself, I shall also have had that beneficial exercise. Yes, Lars,” and Theach smiled at the islander, “I begin to think that an island residence would provide me with all I require: seclusion, sustenance, and sanctuary!” He sat back in the chair, beaming at his circle of friends.

“How many know you and Erutown are in the islands?” Lars asked seriously.

“Nahia has been working very hard lately, Lars,” Hauness said. “She was granted a leave of absence: I took my annual holiday and announced our intention of cruising the coast. There are friends who will vouch for our presence in mainland waters. Besides, who would expect us to brave a hurricane?”

“We boarded the jet from the seaside without being seen the night before she sailed,” Erutown added. “What Elder would suspect Nahia’s involvement with renegades?”

“If they had any sense whatever,” Nahia said in a crisp tone that surprised Killashandra with its suppressed anger, “how could they fail to realize that I sympathize deeply with repressions, frustrations, and despairs which I cannot avoid feeling! With injustices not all the empathy in the world will ease.”

A moment of silence followed.

“Is your woman to be trusted with any of this, Lars?” Hauness asked quietly.

Suppressing a flare of guilt at her duplicity, Killashandra decided that it was time to join the group before Lars perjured himself.

“Here, this should satisfy, Lars,” she said, approaching the others with a purposeful stride. She set before him a generous plate of sandwiches and hot tidbits which she had found in the food storage. “You’re sure I can’t get anything for you?” she asked the others as she began to gather up the used plates and cups.

Erutown gave her a sour glance, then turned to watch the rolling cloud formations of the approaching storm. Theach smiled absently, Hauness shook his head and settled back next to Nahia who had leaned back in the couch, eyes closed, her beautiful face relaxed.

When Killashandra returned with her own serving, Lars and Hauness were absorbed by the satellite picture of the approaching hurricane, displayed on the vdr. It would be a substantial blow, Killashandra had to admit, but not a patch on what Ballybran could brew.

Storm watching could be mesmerizing, certainly engrossing. Theach was the first to break from the fascination. He reseated himself at a small terminal and began to call up equations on the tiny screen. There was a tension to the line of his back, the occasional rattle of the keys that proved he was still conscious, but there were long intervals of total silence from his corner during the next few hours.

“It’s not going to be a long one at its current rate,” Lars remarked when he had finished eating. “The eye’ll be on us by night.”

“Is it likely to make the mainland?”

“No. That is, after all, eight thousand kilos off. It’ll blow itself out over the ocean as usual. You only get our storms when they make up in the Broad, not from this far south.”

So, Killashandra thought, she was in the southern hemisphere of Optheria, which explained the switch in seasons. And it explained why this group felt themselves secure from Mainland intervention and searches. Even with the primitive jet vehicles, an enormous distance could be traversed in a relatively short time.

It struck Killashandra that if Nahia, Hauness, and the others could travel so far, so could the Elders, especially if they wanted to implicate islanders. Or was that just talk? If, as Lars had admitted, Torkes had set him up to assault her in order to verify her identity and was using that assault now to implicate the islanders, would it not be logical to assume that some foray into the islands would be made by officialdom? If only to preserve their fiction?

Killashandra closed her mouth on this theory for she had gleaned it from information she had overhead surreptitiously. Well, she’d find a way to warn Lars, for she had a sudden premonition that a warning was in order. From what she had seen of the Elders, reapplying to the Guild would be a humiliating embarrassment to their sort of bureaucracy. Unless – and Killashandra smiled to herself – they took the line that Killashandra Ree had not arrived as scheduled. How tidy it could be made, the Elders able to suppress any reference to the reception in her honor. However, Lanzecki would know that she had gone, and know, too, that she would not have evaded the responsibility she had accepted. And there would be computer evidence of her arrival – even the Elders would have a hard time suppressing that sort of trail mark. Not to mention her use of the credit outlet on Angel. This could be very interesting!

She must have dozed off, for the couch had been comfortable, the day’s unusual exercise exhausting, and watching the weather screen soporific. It was the lack of storm noise that woke her. And a curious singing in her body which was her symbiont’s reaction to drastic weather changes. A quick glance at the screen showed her that the eye of the storm was presently over Angel Island. She rubbed at her arms and legs, sure that the vibration she felt might be discernible. However, Nahia had curled up on the end of the long couch, Hauness, one arm across her shoulders, was also asleep, head back against the cushions. Theach was still diddling, but Erutown and Lars were absent.

She heard voices and steps on the circular stair and made a dash for the toilet. She distinguished Lars’s distinctive laugh, a bass rumble from his father, and a grunt that could be Erutown, and some other voices. Until the eye had passed and the symbiont had quieted, Killashandra wanted to avoid everyone, especially Lars.