Crystal Line

Chapter 2

"What a cheese hole!"Lars said in a disgusted tone.

Killashandra said nothing.She didn't dare express what she did feel about the planet Opal.And especially about Lanzecki for taking advantage of their greed, and need to be off-planet.Only the thought that she and Lars were making eighty thousand credits for this kept her from exploding.

Well, that and wanting to keep Brendan's good opinion.He had turned out to be the most excellent of escorts.Not only did he sing good baritone, but he had the most astonishing repertoire of lewd and salacious, prim and proper cantatas and languishing lieder.He wasn't as fond of opera as Killa was, but he knew all the comic operettas, musicals, lilts, pattern songs, and croons, and a selection of the best of every decade back to the beginning of taped music.He also had the most amazing and catholic files.

"Boira's a mezzo, you see, and while I can only sing the one voice…"

"Is the ship who sings… whatsername?"

"Helva?Yes, she still is, but no one knows where."Brendan had chuckled."There's a reward if she's spotted, but I don't know a ship worth its hull who'd tell."

"But couldn't she sing any range?"

"So legend has it," Brendan had replied, amused."It's possible.I could make modifications to my diaphragm and voice production, as she did, but frankly, it'd be damned hard to match the 834.Then, too, Boira likes me being baritone."

"Can't fight that," Killashandra said, grinning at Lars.

But now they were orbiting Opal and musicality was irrelevant.

The pock-holed orb was more moon than planet, one of a dozen similar satellites weaving eccentric patterns about the primary.Opal had no atmosphere and only seven-tenths standard gravity.Its primary still emanated the unusual spectrums, coronal blasts, and violent solar winds that had so adversely affected its dependent bodies.Exploration HQ had decided that circumstances might possibly have resulted in unusual metals.Artifacts from some long-gone alien civilizations had been composed of previously undiscovered metallic components-some not kind to human hands but workable by remote control-that had proved to be invaluable to modern metallurgy, electronics and engineering.Since those first discoveries, such substances continued to be assiduously sought.Which was why this star system had been surveyed.

"Leaving no turn unstoned," Bren had quipped.

According to the log, the now-deceased team had also discovered some very interesting slag on one of the outer satellites of Libran 2937, samples of which were still being analyzed-and their possible uses extrapolated from the all too small supply.

"Where did the geological survey land, Bren?"Lars asked.

"Their landing of record," Bren began, "is… right… below us."He magnified the image of his main screen, and the iridescent nauseous green paint that exploration teams used to mark their sites became clearly visible.

Lars and Killashandra turned to examine the close-up of the site, which was being displayed on one of the smaller bridge screens.

"Shall we?" the ship asked in a wry tone.

"Ach!Why not?"Lars said.

"We've time to eat," Killa said, feeling hunger pangs though she was certain they had eaten not too long before.

"Is it that time?"Lars asked with a startled expression."We've done nothing but eat since we came aboard."

"They used to term it singing for your supper," Brendan added.His chuckle ended abruptly."Oh, I see.You mean, your home planet's going through one of its Passover periods?"

"It was due to," Killa said."It must have started.That's the only time we can't stop eating."

"Hmmm.Well, we've plenty aboard," Brendan replied soothingly.

Killashandra grimaced."But we're going to have to suit up to move around down there, and suit food's not very satisfying."

Lars considered this aspect of the unusual hunger of their symbionts at Passover time: an urge which would overtake their bodies no matter how far they were from Ballybran, since it was generated by the symbiont, ever in phase with its native planet."We could work in shifts, one of us eat while the other explores."

"No!Absolutely not," Brendan vetoed firmly."As a team always.How long do you last between snacks?"

Killa laughed."Snack?You've never seen a singer eat!"

"Well, tell me how much and I can deliver it to the lock so you don't have to unsuit completely to assuage your need."

Killa brightened."That's a thought."

"We'll certainly give it a try," Lars said with a grin."Now, just let's see if we can plan our excursions around our appetites."He accessed the log files of the fateful geology ship.

"How about I land you near the biggest of the vaults?This one!"Bren suggested, calling up the most remarkable of the liquidlike ribs."That's not the landing of record, but it's certainly the most interesting site they found.Of course, I'm far more flexible than the Toronto was.We can pit hop as much as we need-while you're chowing down a good feed."

"Then there's the problem of the Sleep," Killa said, making a sour face.

"Oh?"Brendan prompted.

"Yes.Having stuffed ourselves like hibernators, we then sleep for the duration of the actual Passover."

"Or rather, our symbionts force us to sleep during the combined transit of the three moons," Lars explained.

"How long?"

Lars shrugged."A week.That's why we stock up so heavily."

"For a week's sleep?"

Lars shrugged, then grinned at Brendan's column."Not my choice."

"Then you eat again?"Brendan asked solicitously.

"Just before we fall asleep, even the sight of food makes us nauseous.That's generally how we know we'd best get into a comfortable position," Lars explained.

"Most unusual," Brendan said mildly, "though I've heard and encountered weirder ones."

"You're most reassuring," Killashandra said dryly.

"I try to be.You'd best belt in," he added.The main screen was showing their precipitous approach to the pock-marked moon.Seeing that, the two singers hastened to obey.

Brendan was an excellent pilot-as he was the ship, to all intents and purposes.As he neatly deposited them on the soi-disant surface of Opal, Lars and Killa applauded in the traditional manner.Then they concentrated on eating the enormous meal the ship served them-items that Brendan knew they particularly liked and in quantities that should have daunted a normal appetite.

"You really do stow it away, don't you?"

Killa and Lars were too busy stuffing themselves to give any reply other than a distracted "Hmmm…"

At last they were replete; and, groaning a bit, they squeezed into their vacuum suits.Killashandra found herself wishing, if only for a moment, that "space suits" had not evolved to be quite so lean and efficient.But theses suits were perfect for non-atmospheric explorations.The close-fitting shell provided the wearer with a nearly impervious second skin.Fine controls for digital manipulations were available; sanitary arrangements were as unobtrusive as possible.The helmet afforded complete head mobility and visibility; the tubes for eating and drinking were housed at the neck rim.The oxygen unit fitted snugly across the shoulder blades and down to the end of the spine, which it also served to protect.Helmet, digital, and arm lights illuminated a wide area around the wearer.Versatile tools attached to special rigs on the belt and stowed in thigh and leg pouches gave them additional external resources.

"I've stocked your suit packs with a rather tasty high protein, followed by a sweet confection that might just relieve hunger pangs," Brendan began.

"No matter what you feed us, mate, we'll have to come back for more than any suit could supply," Lars said as he and Killashandra entered the airlock."All right now, Bren, let us out."

They had both studied the log records of the Toronto, so they knew to turn left as soon as they exited the outer lock.

"Humpf," Killa said, training her arm light on the fluorescent line the previous expedition had painted on the porous shell."Nice of them, considering."

"They expected to return," Lars remarked quietly.

"I see the markings," Brendan said in an oblique reminder to narrate their progress more explicitly.

"For posterity then," and Killashandra began the running commentary as they followed the guideline down steps that had been cut by their predecessors.There was even a line sprayed across a low threshold to warn them where to bend and hunching over, they started down the short passage into the larger chamber.

"Hey, there's light ahead," Lars said, and turned off his beams."A sort of blue radiance," he went on, gesturing for Killa to extinguish her lamps.

The light source did not actually illuminate the passage, but the glow was sufficient to guide them to its source.

As they entered the big cavern, they were both speechless for a moment.Luminescence cascaded in flinders of brilliance-like sparks, except that they didn't shoot out of their parent substance.The material that arced across the high ceiling seemed to flow, dark blue and dark green and then silver.

"I am not there," Brendan reminded them politely.

Lars turned on his helmet light, and immediately the radiance was quenched.Where the helmet beam touched, the material writhed with bands of black and dark blue and dark green.Almost, Killashandra thought, as if rushing blood to heal a wound.Did light on this lightless world constitute a threat or injury?She wondered if the sun's rays-unfiltered, with no atmosphere to reduce ultraviolet and infrared-penetrated the cavern to the jewel?For jewel it appeared to her, one graceful long sweep of jewel, a living necklace across the vault of the cavern.Or was it a tiara?

"It's the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time," she murmured."And I've seen some magnificent crystal."She paused, frowning."I also don't know why or how, but I agree with Trag, Brendan.This jewel junk is alive.Who knows about sentience-but definitely a living organism!"

"I agree with that," Lars said quietly, then began to examine the chamber while Killashandra concentrated on the gem cascade.

"It's grown, too, Brendan, since the team was here four-five years ago.It's made a complete hoop across the ceiling from floor to floor," Killashandra went on.

"And down into the next cavern, if there is one," Lars added, kneeling to shine the pencil-thin line of his forefinger light where the shimmering opalescent seemed to penetrate the floor of the cavern.The jewel itself darkened and seemed to contract, to retreat from the light source.

"To the basement level for housewares and utensils," Killashandra recited in the tone of a robotic lift device, feeling a need to dispel the unusual sense of reverence that the chamber evoked in her."No!" she cried in sudden fear as she saw Lars reach out to touch the narrow descending-tongue? facet? finger? probe? tentacle?-of the opalescent.

Lars turned his helmeted head toward her, and his white teeth flashed a grin."Let's not be craven about this.If the symbiont protects me, it protects me.After all, I'm suited…"

"Use an extendable," Brendan said in a tone remarkably close to command."The material of your suit is only guaranteed impervious to known hazards."

"Good point, Lars," Killashandra added.

He gave a shrug and snagged a tool from his belt.A light pass of the instrument across the coruscating extrusion gave no results.When he prodded it gently-and suddenly jerked back his arm.

"Wow!"

"Report?"Killa reminded him.

First he looked at the tool."Well, I'm glad you stopped me, Bren."He turned the implement toward Killa.She tongue-switched the magnification of her visor and saw that the end had melted, blurring its outline.

"Hot the material is, but it gave on contact," Lars said.

"Pliable?"Brendan asked.

"Hmmm, flexible, maybe, or able to absorb intrusions," Killa suggested."Or is it semiliquid, like mercury, or that odd stuff they found on Thetis Five?"

"So far, except for your observation that the ah-" Brendan paused, "-semiliquid has spanned its cave in the four years since discovery, you have trod in the same path the geologists did.They also melted a few instruments trying to probe it."

"I know, I know," Lars said, "but I like to draw my own conclusions."He passed his gloved hand over the material several times, being careful not to touch it."Any heat readings on record?"

"None, and I'm getting none either from the instrumentation you're carrying," the ship responded, sounding slightly disgusted.

"Any movement?"

"Negatory."

"Can you give us a reading on whether the ground beneath us is solid or not, Brendan?"Killa asked.

"You are currently standing on the intersection of three caves approximately two meters below you.Two of them are large, the other is small, less than half a meter in width and height.My readings corroborate the expedition's report that this satellite is riddled with cavities, probably right down to what used to be its molten core, in irregular layers and with equally irregular cavities."

"Can you keep a scan on possible spots too thin to bear any weight?"Killashandra had a quick vision of herself falling through level after level of cinder.

"Monitoring," was the ship's response.

Killa realized she'd been holding her breath and expelled it.That allowed her stomach to mention it was empty, so while she made a confident circuit of the cavern, she sucked up the ration.In several places and with great care, she placed her gloved hand on the walls; her wrist gauge gave not so much as a wiggle.The ambient temperature of the cavern was the same as that on the satellite's surface.But there was something she was missing.Unable to think what that was, she shrugged and sucked on her tube.

"Hey, this glop's not bad, Bren," she said.

"Not eating already?"

"On the hour, every hour," Lars answered.He hunkered down by the visible end of the material and poked, careful not to let his chisel touch the glowing substance as he scraped out a semicircle.He gave a grunt."It's going down.But where?Any access to the next level, Bren?"

"I think so," the ship answered after a bit."Sort of a maze, but your suits have tracers on 'em, so I can keep track and direct you.Go out the way you came in…"

Following his directions, they traveled one of the more tortuous routes they had ever followed, accustomed as they were to the vagaries of sly crystal in the Milekey Ranges on Ballybran.

"I'm glad we don't have to stay too long in this place," Killa muttered, shining her lights around.The passageways seemed darker than ever after the subtle radiance of the junk-jewel cave.She preferred to have as much light around her as possible in dark burrows.The rock around them seemed to absorb their lights."You eat it," she growled as she walked.

"What?Me?Oh, you mean the rock?"Lars asked."Yeah, it does sort of soak it up.Speaking of which…"

"Not you, too!"Brendan exclaimed, almost sputtering."It's scarcely two hours since you consumed an immense meal."

"Hmmm, true!"

"Humpf."

"We can last about another hour, I think," Lars said, and grinned as Killa glanced back at him.Would Brendan catch the teasing note?

"At this rate," replied Brendan trenchantly, "we'll be here for months!Turn obliquely right now, and watch that it is oblique-there's a hole!"

"Whoops, so there is," Killa said, teetering on the edge as her hand and head lamps outlined the even deeper blackness.Then, as she swung right, the comforting arch of a passage was visible."Nice save there, Bren.And what have we here but another cave!"Her tone was richly facetious."And," she added, as she shone both lamps in a swing, "our little creepy-crawly has fingers in this pie, too."

Lars stepped around her and walked up to the glittering nubbin just entering the roof of this cavity.He dropped his light to the floor, and they could both see a small pile of debris.Lars hunkered down and, with the end of his hammer, carefully prodded the mound, examining the end of the tool when he had finished.

"Nope, not a melt.More like simple dust."

"Take a sample," his partner suggested.

"Take a sample of the rock, too," Brendan added.

"Now, look a'that," Killa said, holding her light steady on the opposite wall, where the liquid opal had intruded as well."How many layers of this cave complex did the geologists explore?"

"At the original landing site, they penetrated several miles below the surface before they could proceed no further, but not here.However, records indicate that, in the cave above, the arch of the junk was incomplete.Nor do they mention that it penetrated below the first level in the landing site."

"Fascinating!"Killa commented."How many such manifestations were recorded, Bren?"Dammit, she had studied those reports only last night and she couldn't recall the details.

"In nine of the twenty-three sites explored, they observed this opalescence.By then they hadn't found anything else particularly noteworthy, so they decided to proceed to the next system on their route when…"

"Hmm, yes, indeed, when!"

"You'd think it would grow up, out of the core," Lars mused, "instead of down from the surface."

"If it is indigenous," Brendan suggested.

Lars and Killa were silent a moment, considering that theory."Well, being alien to this system would answer why it's topside instead of down below," Lars remarked.

"Is there a way to prove alien origin?"Killa asked.

"If you could find a sample that'll submit to examination, possibly," the ship replied wryly.

"Suppose we explain that this won't hurt?"Killa was feeling waggish at this point.Faint from hunger, maybe.She sucked on the tube and got a mouthful of something rather more sweet than she liked.But it did depress the hunger pangs."An alien substance?Hmm.Wherever could it have originated?"

"There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio…" Brendan intoned in a marvelously sepulchral note.

"Nonsense, Bren, there's usually a scientific explanation for everything," Killa said sharply.The very idea of something like the opal just "dropping" in made her slightly nervous.They hadn't discovered anything about it yet.And it had killed a whole exploratory team.

"I wonder," Lars said slowly, "if a quick freeze might not work to get us a sample."

"Work how?"Killa asked, her mind taken off both stomach and apprehension.

"I can't imagine how this stuff generates heat enough to melt an alloy as tough as the chisel, but maybe liquid nitrogen…"

"Wouldn't hurt to try," Bren said."Fight liquid with liquid?"

"Have you got some?"Killa asked, again surprised.

"My dear Killashandra Ree, this ship has everything!"Bren's voice was smug."My inventory shows that there are two cylinders of liquid nitrogen in storage.I have both spray and stream nozzles that will fit the standard apertures."

"Hmmm."

"I'll have one ready when you return for your next meal," Brendan added at his driest.

"And more luminescent paint, too," Lars added as the last drop dribbled out of his marking tube.

They retraced their steps very carefully, feeling the cindery crunch of the surface under their booted feet.Again something teased at the back of Killa's mind but refused to be identified.

The promised meal awaited them in the airlock, and they could barely wait until the iris had cycled shut and the oxygen level was adequate before they undid their helmets and attacked the food.

"Oh, this is good, Bren," Killa said, gobbling down refried steakbean and reaching for the orange-and-green milsi stalks of which she was particularly fond.Lars, as usual, was munching on grilled protein.

"Is indeed," Lars mumbled.

"You'll notice the nitro tank?"Brendan asked pointedly.

"Hmmm…" and Killashandra waved a forkful of beans at it."Appreciate that."

"And the marker tubes?"

It was Lars's turn to reply."Thanks."

"You're welcome."Brendan sounded a trifle miffed.

"Can't help this," Lars added, glancing up apologetically at the airlock's optic.

Brendan's sigh was audible."No, I suppose you can't, really.I've just never seen any bodies consume so much food in such a short time.And you're both bone-thin."

"Symbiont," Killashandra managed to say, one hand cramming as many of the bright green vegetable spheres into her mouth as would fit, while she scooped up more milsi stalks in the other."You'll never see a fat singer," she added after swallowing her mouthful.

Oddly enough, the compulsion to gorge eased off about the time they were mopping up the plates with yeast bread that was one of Brendan's specialties.Though as a shell person, he was nourished entirely by the fluids pumped into the titanium capsule that contained his stunted body, still he was fascinated by food and did most of the catering, even when Boira was on board.

Replete, Killashandra and Lars exchanged the depleted catering packets in their suits for fresh ones, donned their helmets, picked up the extra equipment, and exited the B amp;B to resume their explorations.

"Why are we trying to carve a hunk out of the junk?"Killashandra asked as they made their way back to the lower cavern.

"We were sent here to investigate the stuff, in situ, make recommendations as to its possible value, and/or usefulness," Lars said."And see what makes it luminesce.Any report on whether or not the hunk of the junk grew in captivity, Bren?"

"No.I mean, no mention of increase in the sample; however, the report said, once excised, the specimen lost all iridescence."

"The junk doesn't like light," Killa said thoughtfully."Could be it has to have darkness to sparkle.Or there's something in the composition of this planet that makes it iridescent?"

"And some element that makes it expand, grow, flow, whatever it does," Lars remarked, equally thoughtful."Down the sides and to the next level.All in four years or so."

"Never heard of anything that grew in such a deprived environment as this," Killa said with a snort.

"Well, we ain't seen everything yet, have we?"Lars responded equably.

A ten-second spray of liquid nitrogen turned the entire stalactite colorless, and when Lars gave it a sharp chop with his rock hammer, the end-a piece the length and width of his gloved hand-fell to the ground.Through her boot soles, Killashandra felt a sharp shaking, unexpected and severe enough to unbalance her.

"Did you feel that, Lars?"

"Indeed I did!"Lars had flailed his arms briefly to steady himself.

"Feel what?"Brendan asked sharply.

"A tremor, a shake, a quake.Did you register anything?"Lars asked.

"Hmm.Well, there is a minute blip on the stability gauge.Not enough to set off a stabilizer alarm."

"Look!"Killa shone her light to the opposite wall, and the two singers saw that the other intrusion had disappeared."A definite reaction to our action.The Junk has enough sense to retract from peril?"

"Sense or reflex?"Lars asked, scooping the colorless stalactite into the duraplas specimen sack he had pulled from his thigh pocket."Let's see how far it's retracting."

Guided by Bren and moving as fast as was safe in the dark maze, they returned to the first chamber.The opalescence was subtly muted, and they had to turn on their suit lights.Then they could see that the Junk had noticeably contracted on both sides of the wall, though the farther "rib" was longer than the one from which they had taken the stalactite.They saw no other change in the central portion of the rib.

"Hey, look, Lars, a channel," Killa said.She pointed to the faint shadow on the wall where the Junk had been."It makes a channel.Does it absorb rock as it extrudes?"

"Could it be making the caves?"Lars asked.That stunned both listeners into silence.

"Total absorption?"Brendan asked, puzzled."Most beings excrete some waste material."

"This Junk makes a waste of space," Killashandra replied, grinning at Lars."I can't see any movement now, but it sure moved incredibly fast in the twenty-odd minutes it took us to get back up here.Getting tape on this, Bren?"

"You bet."

"Well, then, let's try some comparison," Lars said.He motioned for Killashandra to follow him."The first team found nine such phenomena?Well, let's go see the next one."

"I'm hungry again," Killashandra added apologetically.

Brendan made an exceedingly gross sound, but he had more food ready for them when they reached the airlock.They ate while he changed sites.

And that became the routine of the next ten hours.Search and eat.Eat while searching.At first Brendan had clever, often hilarious comments to make about their "starvation diet", but then he became as fascinated as they by what could only be called the "behavior" of the Junk.

At each of the five sites they investigated, they found that the opalescence had diminished in size from the mass that the geologists had recorded.

"Hey, you two, I'm calling a rest period.Your vital signs are becoming erratic."

"With all the food we're ingesting?"Killa said, half teasing."Now that you mention it-whoops," and she tripped and fell forward into Lars.

"Now that you mention it," Lars continued, steadying her, "I could curl up for a hundred or so hours."

"Hunger would uncurl you in about three," Brendan replied."Chow's up!"

They waited long enough before eating to insert their suits in the cleanser and shower themselves.Bren did manage to keep them awake long enough after they had eaten to get to their bunk.

But the next morning, as he served an enormous breakfast, the two singers were alert and keen to examine the remaining locations.By comparing the exploration notes with the present state of the ribbing, they saw distinct differences: less alteration the farther the opalescence was from the rib they had sampled.

"Is this a mass defection, migration, withdrawal?"Lars asked, puzzled.

"Pinch me, you pinch us all?"Killa responded.

"How could one piece of Junk communicate with the others?"Brendan asked.

"That's the easy one," Killa said with a grin."Through the rock mass.We felt that tremble.Maybe that's communication."

"I'll credit that," Lars said, "but where is the Junk retreating to?Anything show up on the scopes, Bren?"

"Visualize me shrugging," the ship said drolly, "because I have checked all my systems for malfunction.The Junk refuses to have its picture taken.There isn't so much as a black blob registering on the walls of any of the caverns you've been in.But the Junk's very much in situ."

"Wait a minute, team," Killashandra said, a grin deepening, "I know what I missed… crunch underfoot.There's no debris or rubble or pebbles or anything in the caves!"

Lars blinked and lowered his head, frowning as he thought over her remark."No, you're right, there isn't.Only that small pile of dust."

"Where the rib finger had wormed its way down.It may eat its way down."

"I could draw a comparison between your appetites and the-hey!"Brendan protested as Killa lobbed a pencil file at his titanium panel.

"I wonder what it does eat," Lars said."Shall we whip up some appetizing bits and pieces for it to sample?"

"Didn't the explore team do that, Bren?"Killa asked.

"No, they did not."Bren's voice rippled in amusement."After they seemed to lose tools to its melt process."

"I don't remember a mention of that," Killa said, frowning.She had only just reviewed the reports during breakfast.

"I gather that by inference, Ki," Brendan said."And the inventory."

"So, what shall we offer up in sacrifice to the Junk God in the Grotto?"Killa asked.

"A bit of this, a bit of that," Lars said."Can I have a walk through your spare-parts hold, Bren?"

"And can we return to our first cave?"Killa said, speaking from an impulse she didn't quite understand."I'm beginning to feel guilty about carving off that hunk of the Junk.We really ought to make restitution by letting it have first crack at our offerings."

That was granted, and Brendan told them what to take, and graciously offered what little garbage was left from preparing their meals, as well as samples of protein and carbohydrate.The two resumed their now-clean suits, packed the tube wells for their snack, checked the oxygen tanks, snapped on their helmets, and cycled through the airlock.

"You know, you're right about rubble out here and none in the caves," Lars remarked.

As soon as they saw the blue light, they doused their suit lamps.

"The crunch stops here," Lars added as he strode on to the smooth surface of the cavern."I don't think it's retracted further, Killa.What d'you think?"

"Hmm.We should have thought to mark it.We can reach this far tip…" She took out a sample as she made her way across."Copper, Bren," she said.Using forceps and stretched at full length upward, she laid the copper on the surface.Then she yanked her arm back."Muhlah!Talk about hungry.And see, Lars, there's a definite pulse that's copper-toned running all the way back to the hub.Fascinating…"

By the time they had exhausted the contents of their sacks, the Junk had accepted every single offering, the metallic ones with noticeable alacrity and reaction.

"Omnivorous."

"Not grateful though," Killa added."Not so much as a centimeter has it expanded.Humpf."

Lars regarded the central mass."No, but I think it's brighter.Should we see if any of the others are more receptive?"

She was standing in a pose of thoughtfulness, one arm across her chest, propping the elbow of the gloved hand supporting the tilt of her helmet."I'm thinking!"

"Are you?"

"And what are you thinking?"Brendan asked.

Killashandra began slowly, formulating her thoughts as she spoke."I think we ought to return the piece we took.I don't think we ought to carve up the Junk."

Lars regarded her for a long moment."You know, I think you're right.That should put us in their good… gravel?dust?"

"Cinder?"Killa offered coyly.

"Well, we'll just do that wee thing then.Especially as it isn't doing us a blind bit of good as a specimen."

"Which reminds me.When we excised that bit of stalactite, there was that shaking.Was that just a tremor, or an incredibly rapid beat of some kind?"

"A percussive-type signal?"Lars asked.

"Ah, like some primitive groups who wished to make long-distance communications," the ship said."I'll analyze.Never thought of that."There was a pause during which lights and flicks of messages crossed the main control screen.

"Ah, indeed!Spot-on, Killa.The tremor does indeed parse into a variety of infinitesimal pulses of varying length."

"We need some drumsticks, Bren," Killa said, grinning at Lars.

He put his hands on his hips in an attitude of exasperation."Neither of us could rap that fast."

"So we'll be largo, but it'll be a beat.We can at least use rhythm to see if we'd get any sort of response.Open some sort of a communications channel to this intelligence."

"Intelligence?The retreat could be no more than a basic survival impulse."

"Impulse is the word," Bren said."I have no wood in my stores, but would plastic do?"

"Anything strong enough to beat out a pulse… Maybe we can get an 'in' to our Junk."

Lars groaned at her whimsy, but he was quite ready to return to the ship and take delivery of two pairs of taper-ended plastic lengths.He gave Killa one pair and, with the other, practiced a roll on the bulkhead of the airlock.

"A little ragged," she said.

"Who's had time to practice for the last seventy years?"

Killashandra frowned in surprise that Lars would even mention a time span.Most singers ignored time references.Seventy years?Since they had been singing duet?Or since they had last done much instrumentalizing?She really didn't want to know which.Unlike herself, Lars often input material to his private file.And after a session in the Ranges, he also accessed his file.She couldn't remember when she had thought to add anything to hers.She shook her head, not wanting to think about that.She had far more important things to do than worry about relative time-it was rhythmic time she had to play with right now.

"We are armed and ready," she said flippantly, holding the sticks under her nose as she had seen ceremonial drummers do on some old tape clip."Front and center, and forward into the fray."

" 'We go, we go,' " Lars sang out.

Long-forgotten neurons rubbed together properly, and Killashandra came out with the beginning of that chorus, altering it slightly to suit their circumstances." 'Go, we heroes, go to glory/we shall live in song and story…' "

" 'Yes, but you don't go!' "And Brendan's baritone entered the chorus.

" 'We go!We go!' "Lars toggled the airlock to open, awkwardly hanging on to his drumsticks as he resettled his helmet.Killashandra fastened hers.

" 'Yes, onward to the foe!' " sang Brendan melodiously.

" 'We go!We go!' "

And then the airlock completed its cycle and they could go back out into the darkness of Opal.They marched into the nearest of the Junk caves and came to a militarily abrupt halt.

"All right, Ki," Lars said, "where-and what-do we beat?"

"Let's see if we can get its attention.Do we both happen to know a ceremonial roll?"

"I do."Lars proceeded to beat it out.

"Show-off.Now, let's do it together."They did, heads up to see if there was any reaction in the Junk.

"I think you got through," Brendan said."A hemi-semi-demiquaver of a response, but definitely just after your roll duet."

Lars grinned drolly at Killashandra."Having said that, what do we say next?"

"Howdy?"

Hunger drove them from the cave, and once they got back into the B amp;B, sheer fatigue required them to stay.They had beat every tempo they knew, with all the power in their arms, until their muscles had protested.Brendan kept reporting reaction, and once or twice, a repeat-at a much faster speed-of what the two crystal singers had just tapped out.Other patterns of response made no sense to Brendan.But as Killa and Lars reboarded the ship, he told them that he was trying to figure out any code, or pattern, in the Junk's response to their rolls.When he started to tell them, they begged a reprieve.

"Save it, will you, Bren?"Lars said, an edge to his voice.

"Sorry about that.You've seemed indefatigable.I was beginning to think you were crystal analogues.You have, after all, only been on the go today for twenty-seven hours.I'll reprise after you've had some sleep.And I mean, sleep."

"Wicked little man," Killashandra said, struggling out of her suit and tiredly cramming it into the cleanser.Lars had to prop himself up against the wall to balance while he pulled off his suit.

As she stumbled into the main cabin, she yawned, feeling those twenty-seven hours in every sinew in her body-and especially in her weary hands."I'm almost too tired to eat," she said, but roused herself when the aromas of the feast Brendan prepared wafted through the main cabin.

"I'm never too tired to eat during Passover," Lars announced, and picked up the biggest bowl.He half collapsed into the chair, then settled back with a plate on his chest so he didn't have so far to reach to get food into his mouth."Can you analyze any particular response from the Junk?"

"In all the caves, it has stopped retreating," Brendan said."And while I do perceive a definite pattern in the rhythm of its tremors, that's the problem.You could never rap fast enough to 'speak' to them, and they can't seem to slow down enough to 'speak' to you."

"How about us recording something, and you play it back at their tempo, Bren?"Killa asked."Use one of your extendable tools to hammer the message home?"

Lars tipped respectful fingers in her direction for that notion."Yeah, but what exactly are we trying to tell them?"

Killa shrugged, her mouth too full to answer just then.She swallowed."We're singers, not semanticists.I think we've done very well!"

"I concur," Brendan added stoutly."There are specialists who could handle it from here, now you've established an avenue."

"Yeah, but what about the disease?"

"The specialists do not need to exit their vehicle.I've just monitored the dust your suits left in the cleanser's filters.I can find no contaminants.So the planet must be safe enough.Remember, the geologists had that specimen on board to examine, and I doubt they thought of keeping it shielded."

"You know," Killashandra began, interrupting herself with a great yawn."We forgot to put the piece back."Her head lolled back.

They fell asleep as they were, half-empty plates balanced on their chests.Brendan decided that he had not been scrupulous enough in monitoring them today-he'd been as fascinated as they had by their attempts to communicate with the Junk.In future, he must remember that singers had phenomenal powers of concentration, as well as appetite.

Then Brendan noticed that weary fingers had left splotches on chairs and carpet.Though he could send the cleaner 'bot to attend to floor spillage, he resigned himself to spots on the chairs until they reached port again.Not that Boira was any neater all the time.He dimmed the lights and raised the ambient temperature, since he couldn't exactly arrange covers for them.Being a ship had a few limitations in dealing with passengers who insisted on falling asleep off their bunks.

He was also obscurely delighted by their resolve to restore the specimen to the Junk.It was one thing to take samples of inanimate objects, but to do so to a living, feeling, communicating sentience was quite another matter in his lexicon.Singers were not as insensitive and unfeeling as he had been led to believe.In fact, his opinion of the breed had been raised by several singular leaps.

He must remember to mention it-adroitly, of course, for even to imply that he had had his doubts about this mission, and them, was embarrassing.He had a lot to relate to Boira when she was restored to him.