The next three days saw them in and out of Brendan's radiant tanks four times: mostly in. Brendan's FTL party piece was jumping in what he called burst mode: he performed a series of jumps one after the other, with only a few minutes in between, so there was little point in getting out. He provided hard-core sedatives, which worked even on singer physiology – awake, the multiple decompositions and recompositions would be unbearable. They seemed to spend almost as much time sleeping as during Passover.
During the few periods of activity between bursts, Brendan was the soul of affability and charm – and not above flirting with Shara, who, it seemed, was willing to play. They had to both know it could lead nowhere, but they seemed to enjoy it. This surpised Zyan, who was more accustomed to thinking of Shara as a sort of kid sister (albeit a slightly scary one). They'd both come from the same sort of pressurised chaos, and both made the same big decision afterwards to join the Guild. Although he hadn't overtly recruited her, there could be little doubt that her choice of post-revolutionary career had been influenced by the time she'd spent as his liaison on Chalice. For this reason he felt a duty to look out for her – and at only twenty one standard years old Shara was very young for a crystal singer. However, she was a grown up and more than capable of taking care of herself – Zyan certainly hadn't hesitated when choosing her as a partner in his current grey-legal enterprise – so he said nothing.
The final jump put them very nearly on Opal's doorstep – they'd be in orbit in less than an hour.
Zyan, feeling a little odd and loose-limbed, washed and dressed in his work gear – they'd be dealing with crystal, after all – and headed down to Brendan's 'bridge'. The controls were all strictly redundant, but the viewscreen provided a real-time view of an unremarkable planet in orbit around an unusually active primary. The planet was, in turn, orbited by an FSP frigate. A small warship, to be sure, but still an armed military presence.
"That normal?" Zyan asked.
"Yes – Opal isn't yet an FSP member, but more and more people are finding out about it and it's inhabitants, so the Navy keeps a ship in orbit to discourage any uninvited guests," Brendan explained.
"Is that anything to do with us?" Shara asked, as she entered the bridge, also clothed for the ranges. She winced and worked her shoulder. Zyan shook his head in answer to the frigate query.
"You alright?" He asked her.
"Aching all over," she replied. "And without even having done anything violently fun to earn it."
"Apologies," Brendan said, via one of his drones which hovered off to one side of the chamber. "Singularity bursts put extra stress on human tissue – I have a headache myself, which is of course the only kind of ache I can get. I'm surprised Zyan hasn't suffered a little too."
Zyan opened his mouth to answer, but Shara got there first. "Captain Fortunate here doesn't feel pain," she said sourly.
"The sensation will wear off in an hour or two," Brendan supplied. "But I have a very advanced med bay capable of complex surgical operations on every known alien species, and even some not so well known."
"It's a headache, Brendan, not a pulser wound," Zyan told the drone.
"Of course. What I meant to imply was that I have analgesics, painkillers and sedatives which will work even with Ballybran-enhanced physiology," Brendan added.
"I'm not entirely sure it wasn't caused by your sedatives, Brendan. It's already going, though, you can stand down," Shara told him, coming to stand beside Zyan.
"Crystal singer regenerative capabilities, no doubt," Brendan's drone bobbed up and down, as if nodding.
The frigate issued and answered an IFF challenge, but otherwise didn't make contact. The inhabitants themselves did that a few moments later.
Brendan put it on the viewscreen – there was no image as such, but an endlessly shifting technicolour pattern of stripes and swirls. "Don't look too closely," Brendan advised. "Junk images can be hypnotic. They don't mean to do it, but, well, it's what they look like and they transmit that way too."
Zyan didn't need telling twice – the memory of his most recent brush with thrall was still very sharp.
"Travels Swiftly," came an oddly familiar voice over the speakers. "It is like the cessation of sunspot activity to us that you have returned once more. Your physical presence in our immediate environment is always a welcome one. Pleasure and surprise at this."
"Thank you. It is pleasant to be here once again," Brendan replied, in oddly formal tones. "Your interlingual has improved beyond measure," he added.
"Pleasure and gratitude at this. The Knowledge Seekers have been kind and helpful but our fluency has been hard won. So: smugness at this."
Brendan laughed. The pattern on the screen changed to one of jiggling, curved stripes in multiple colours – visual laughter, Zyan realised - but then returned to a sober black-and-white pattern.
"Embarrassment at the asking of this so soon after greeting being made, but great is our desire for this knowledge: have you brought the Life Stones we requested of Soul of Song?"
Zyan twigged to the voice, then: it sounded a lot like the Crystal Singer. Shara had evidently noticed too, but they both remained silent. No prizes for guessing what 'life stones' were.
"I have," Brendan replied. "Soul of Song and Wind Catcher send their best wishes with the Life Stones and their regrets that they could not come themselves, but a stern duty lies upon them at the present that they may not ignore. They send instead two of their trusted friends to help you with the Life Stones," Brendan answered.
"Sadness but understanding at this," the voice replied. "Knowledge we have that Soul of Song and Wind Catcher are now the custodians of their world, and may not come and go as their desires dictate. We will be patient for their presence here and will feel the joy of their return all the more that it is not easily accomplished. These others – are they Singers of the Life Stones too?"
"They are," Brendan answered. "Among us, they are known as CS Jarvis and CS Ferozacorazon. They are here with me right now."
"We welcome you that are known as See Ess Jar Viss and See Ess Feh Rosa Cora Zon," the voice said. "We hope you will forgive our lack of understanding of your names, which are strange to us. We have a different understanding of language and individuality which does not translate well to what you call speech. Embarrassment at this."
To Zyan's surprise, it was Shara that spoke up. "Embarrassment at this is not necessary. We are pleased to be here and feel wonder at speaking with you."
"Yes, um, a pleasure to be here. Look forward to meeting you in person," Zyan said.
"Acceptance at this kind attitude. Looking-to-future-pleasure at this also," the voice responded. "Gratitude at your gifts and your assistance. Knowledge we have that tells us the Life Stones are not easily taken from your world, and that Singers of the Life Stones must return there or face the end of being, so we know this is no small thing you do for us. We now go on to say that which the Knowledge Seekers and the Watchers Above tell us is necessary among your kind before you may come closer. The Gift of Descent we extend to Travels Swiftly to our First of Pads," the voice said.
"Gratitude at this," Brendan responded. "We're on our way down."
"Pleasure at this. Communication closing," the voice stated.
The screen flicked back to a view of the planet, which moved and rotated oddly as Brendan started his re-entry manoeuvres.
"Channel closed, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask," Brendan stated. "That was their way of giving landing clearance for pad 1, by the way" he added.
"Wow," Zyan said. "I think I can join the dots on most of that, but what's with the odd names?"
"Like they say, they have a different understanding of individuality and communication. Last time I was here they were still at the stage of clicking out super-high-speed morse code in order to communicate – this is tremendous progress for them. As for the names, as far as they're concerned, 'Brendan' is just a random series of letters. After Killa got-" Brendan stopped. "Once Killa installed the crystals, and given a bit of time, they started coming up with their own names for people. I'm quite fond of Travels Swiftly – it's rather poetic."
Zyan took note of the sudden change of conversational direction, but wasn't sure what Brendan had avoided saying.
"How come you didn't adopt it as your designation when you decided to change it?" Shara asked him.
"I felt it was...special to here," Brendan replied. "Anything else you didn't understand?"
"Soul of Song must be the Crystal Singer, so Wind Catcher is, I'm assuming, the Guildmaster, but I'm not sure why?"
"Does it matter?" Shara asked.
"Well, I suppose not, I'm just curious," Zyan said.
"He loves sailing above almost anything else, didn't you know?" Brendan supplied the answer.
"He's a good boss and we get on fine, but we're not close or anything," Zyan answered.
"You were pretty close with his niece," Shara put in impishly.
Zyan gave her an exasperated expression."Seriously?"
"Hello, I sense gossip," Brendan perked up. "What niece would this be? I'd gathered that singers don't have families."
"The current Senior Counsel of the Heptite Guild, a fellow Guildmember with whom I had a relationship that ended amicably," Zyan explained, "is related to the Guildmaster in a convoluted sort of way that could be conveniently labelled as 'niece'. While this isn't exactly private information, I'm not sure why certain people consider it relevant right now, all things considered." He shot a poisonous glance at Shara. Shara just gave him an unreadable look in return. "Who are the Knowledge Seekers?" Zyan asked, to change the subject.
"The Knowledge Seekers are what the Junks call the scientific team, and the Watchers Above are our friends in uniform over there."
"I wonder what they'll call us," Zyan mused.
"Complains Frequently for you, I expect," Shara smirked.
"That'd make you-" Zyan started.
"Smart and Beautiful, yes, I know, couldn't be anything else really," Shara interrupted, and Brendan laughed. Zyan glared. She looked back at him and tapped her ear meaningfully before turning to leave. "I'm going to go and finish dressing while we land."
"Yeah, I need to go zip my bag up," Zyan said, then paused. "Do we need suits?"
Brendan's drone rotated from side to side in a negative gesture. "The scientists have established a network of pressurised tunnels leading to each Junk. They still wear environment suits, but you two won't need them: just take an emergency rebreather each - better safe than sorry."
"Understood," Zyan said, before returning to his cabin.
When he placed the black crystal comunit in his ear, he received a small surprise. The earbud adjusted itself to his ear, bracing itself just out of sight, then surprised him by talking in a soft machine voice.
"BlackTalk v1.0 active. First time use detected – tap twice or vocalise 'quickstart' for a short user guide."
Zyan tapped his ear twice.
"BlackTalk v1.0 is a closed-circuit, short range tactical black crystal comunit, patent Heptite Guild, Ballybran. Authorised Heptite Guild or FSP Intelligence use only. Subvocalisation is the best way to talk, recharge by placing near any standard wireless charging outlet, full recharge takes thirty seven minutes. Unit is waterproof and shockproof, any unit in network can be used to find other units if lost, vocalise 'hide and seek mode' to activate. By default unit operates asynchronously to save power – messages are exchanged in compressed burst mode every ten minutes. Standard operations: tap twice for status. Tap three times to toggle between async and real-time mode. Warning: real-time mode drains power at an accelerated rate. Tap four times to disengage ear clamps to remove. For emergency shutdown vocalise this precise phrase: emergency shutdown now now now, or tap non-stop."
Zyan tapped twice. "Unit 3 of 3 in async mode. Range two hundred thousand and seventy three kilometres, fifty six hours nine minutes power remaining. Messages in queue, tap twice to play."
Again with the ear tapping. The unit played a whisper from Shara: "Go real time."
Zyan tapped his ear three times.
"Real-time mode active. One hour three minutes power remaining," the earbud told him.
"Ouch," Zyan said, almost silently.
"Talking about the difference in run time when we go to real-time mode?" Shara asked, via the comunit. It was like she was whispering in his ear: remarkable.
"Uh-huh," Zyan replied. "What was all that about me and Alenda in aid of?"
"Groundwork," Shara replied. "We may need to ask Brendan for help – the Crystal Singer may already have told him something beyond the exact boundaries of this assignment – but if not, then I don't think it'll hurt us for him to know you have a personal stake in this."
"Why's that?"
"He sees himself as an old-fashioned gentleman, flirting with the pretty girl but chivalrous nonetheless. The thought of helping you go to the rescue of your lost love will motivate him," Shara explained.
"So that's what all the batting eyelashes was about, was it?"
"That and it's kinda fun," Shara replied.
"Didn't think you were the type," Zyan said.
"I'm branching out, sue me," Shara replied.
"That'd hardly be fair on Hollin, he'd have to argue against himself in court. Going async again."
"Going async," Shara confirmed.
Brendan was as good a pilot as Marcus - they set down on the surface with nary a bump. The singers proceeded to Brendan's main airlock: views from the outside on his numerous repeater screens showed a docking tube snaking out to cover it. The crystal crates followed behind them like obedient puppies.
"The gravity here is quite low, only .7 standard," he reminded them once they reached the airlock, as one of his drones issued them with small, emergency rebreathers: discreet devices hardly bigger than a pack of cards, they folded out into full face masks and were good for a few hours of breathable air on a single charge. Zyan clipped his on his belt. "I'll dial the internal grav plates down to match. Do you mind if I tag along? I've never been able to go exploring Opal with my drones, and it'll be nice to actually see the Junks up close and personal."
"The more the merrier, as far as I'm concerned," Zyan said.
"You can be my plus one," Shara nudged the drone with her elbow.
"Honoured and delighted," Brendan replied.
In the airlock, Zyan felt the odd sensation of reducing gravity. Shara, who was less used to conditions of variable gravity, frowned and looked slightly uncomfortable, but soon put it aside as the environment settled to match the planet. Brendan's drone was unaffected.
"And you're on stage in 3, 2, 1-" Brendan said, as the airlock hissed open.
The singers were faced with a trio of characters. There was a hulking heavyworlder man in the uniform of a lieutenant in the FSP Marines, a tall guy in civilian clothes, and a very young, very diminutive woman wearing the white coat of a scientist.
"Welcome to Opal, crystal singers," the tall guy greeted them with a smile. He was in late middle age, and radiated a calm air. "I am Sothi, the FSP Special Envoy to Opal. This is Dr. Klerney Saplinson-Trill, our lead scientist."
"Hi, just call me Klerney," the woman – girl, really – leant forward to shake hands vigorously with both the singers. Nobody was in environment suits yet – Zyan supposed this was a controlled area. She seemed to be on the young side for the lead scientist of an important project, and had a pleasant, round face and a slightly manic manner. She was also at the very low end of the height spectrum: Shara wasn't a tall woman, but even she towered over Klerney. All of this combined to give the impression of a supercharged pixie. "Totally excited you're both here – can't wait to get started. The guys have got really ambitious plans for that crystal and it's going to be absolutely awesome!"
Zyan frowned a little, remembering what Brendan had told him earlier. "I thought the Junks, pardon, FM units would decide what crystal went where?"
Sothi intervened with another calm smile. "When Klerney talks about 'the guys', she is referring to the Jewel Junks, CS Jarvis. She works somewhat more closely with them than her predecessors," he explained.
"Who were also my parents. I don't think dad ever really got the Jewel Junks, to be honest. Mom was more willing to learn from them but he was the one with all the pull at the FSP Academy of Sciences so-" Klerney launched into an explanation.
"Perhaps later, Klerney," Sothi cut in gently.
Klerney stopped her explanation, with good grace. "Of course, totally. Nobody wants a lecture on family history." She gave a self-deprecating smile.
"And this is Lieutenant Mueller, our naval liaison," Sothi introduced the Marine.
"Commander Jarvis," the marine saluted Zyan.
"Wait, what?" Zyan blinked. "I kinda quit outta the military biz three years back, Lieutenant, and I never got a promotion either."
"Ah – you have not heard," Mueller said. "Following the re-integration of Djiel into the FSP, all armed forces of both sides were absorbed into the FSP military. You never resigned your commission, sir, and received an automatic promotion last year to reflect your seniority. You are currently a Commander in the FSP Naval Reserve, and I am required to greet you as such."
"No shards, seriously?" Zyan laughed.
"Indeed sir," the marine confirmed.
Zyan laughed again and returned the salute, with a little less precision than Mueller. "At ease, Lieutenant. Pleased to meet you."
Shara laughed. "Hah! Commander Jarvis. Makes you sound almost respectable. Almost."
The marine then turned to Shara. "Captain Ferozacorazon," he saluted again.
"Wait, what?" It was Shara's turn to blink in surprise.
"Oh this is perfect," Zyan laughed.
"Following the re-ratification of Chalice as an FSP member world, the Chalician People's Front has also chosen to become part of the FSP military, ma'am," Mueller explained. "You hold a reserve captain's commission in the FSP Territorial Army."
Zyan was still laughing. "Hah! Makes you sound almost respectable," he chortled. "Salute the Lieutenant, Captain, you're being rude."
Shara gave him a withering look, but nevertheless returned the lieutenant's salute. Brendan's drone couldn't hold back a laugh, either.
Zyan was still bubbling with mirth, but decided he'd better make a stab at being a professional and civilised guildmember. "Okay, now we're all up to speed on our backup careers, I think we can assume that 'Zyan' and 'Shara' will do, and also I'd like to introduce Brendan, brain of the BX Are We There Yet? He'll be coming with us via one of his ship's drones."
"Oh, Sothi and I are previously acquainted, Zyan," Brendan said, bobbing his drone to acknowledge the introduction. "Congratulations on the promotion, Sothi. The FSP made a very wise choice for their ambassador."
"Thank you, Brendan. It is good to see you again," Sothi shook the drone's metallic hand.
"Do I dare hope that Asramantal is still here too, Sothi?" Brendan asked.
Sothi shook his head. "Asra got his doctorate in Xenogeology, and now heads up his own project in the Vassily system. I'm the last one of the old team still here – unless you count Klerney, she was actually born here while her parents were still in charge."
"Glad to hear he's getting ahead in life, though," Brendan said, then turned to Klerney. "You were born here?"
Klerney nodded. "The only one. My parents took me away when I was little and their project here was wound up, but I came back as soon as I could manage it," the scientist confirmed. "The Junks recognised me when I returned, it was like coming home to family. And to think dad never believed they were sentient – or never wanted to, more like!"
"There seems little doubt about that now," Shara put in. "I'm not completely au fait on what officially constitutes sentience, but when something says hello and gives you landing clearance, I'm pretty sure you can skip the rest of the paperwork."
"100% hard agree," Klerney grinned. "Come on, I'll introduce you. Follow me!"
Sothi coughed delicately. "Klerney, our guests will have had a long voyage," he hinted.
"No, it's fine," Zyan said. "We actually just woke up, more or less, so unless you've got procedures to follow I'm okay with cracking on. Shara?"
"Let's do this," Shara answered, and turned to Klerney. "Lead the way!"
"Yay!" Klerney grinned again, and took Shara's arm in hears to lead her back down the docking tube.
"Yay!" Shara repeated, only slightly sarcastically, with a look at Zyan, before being pulled after.
Sothi shook his head with a rueful smile. "Our lead scientist is more than a little on the enthusiastic side, I'm afraid."
"Kids, eh?" Zyan agreed jokingly. "At least she's got someone to play with now."
Sothi managed to retake control of the expedition from the bubbly Klerney before they left the environmentally controlled section of the outpost, pointing out team quarters, life support, their black-crystal equipped communications hub (Zyan felt a tingle off it) and various labs. Many of these were now empty, as the thrust of the scientific investigation had changed from equipment-intensive planetary mechanics to Klerney's nominal speciality of xenolinguistics, for which she needed little more than a pen, paper and time to think. She was a polymath and a prodigy: despite being only seventeen she already held a doctorate and three other degrees. Although one of the other scientists on planet was technically the chief, he'd been given strict instructions to support her but otherwise leave her to work her miracles: which she did, with breakthrough after breakthrough. It was also quite plain that the envoy looked upon her with something akin to fatherly affection.
"Everyone on the team thought of her as family when she was a child," Sothi admitted. "The Junks call her 'Little Sister'. I doubt she'll ever leave, to be honest – she feels she belongs here, and the Junks seem to agree."
There was some confusion at the decontamination airlock between the habitat section and the rest of the network – the staff there expected the singers to don suits like everyone else. Brendan stepped – or rather hovered – in to assure them they weren't necessary: it had long ago been established that the spore conferred immunity to the deadly ailment that had devastated the original explorers from the Toronto. The forty-odd Jewel Junks were now accessible via walkways with atmosphere, so suits were only necessary to keep out any viruses or bacteria. Sothi smoothed things over; the lieutenant, who would not be coming, bade them a formal farewell with another salute – and through they went.
"Since the Junks have had access to crystal and a variety of organic and inorganic substances, their growth has been extremely rapid. They've doubled their numbers – they reproduce via asexual fission – and all of the Junks equipped with a crystal are now able to use them to communicate with us and interface with standard communication and computer systems," Sothi explained, as they walked through the well-lit and clean tunnel to cave 15, which housed the biggest of the Junks.
"I set them up with their own servers," Klerney said. "They haven't quite absorbed the sum total of human and alien knowledge yet, but they're working on it."
A nasty thought occurred to Zyan – if the Junks were connected up to news services then they may have heard of Black Zyan, and may not necessarily have an understanding attitude towards someone who was notorious for destroying a very sizeable Life Stone.
"Shards, I hope they don't call me 'Death Bringer' or something," he muttered to himself.
"Did you say something, Zyan?" Sothi asked him.
"Nope, nothing at all why would you ask, um, how far to the cave?" He responded in a fluster.
"Just around the next corner, Zyan," Sothi answered.
A few seconds later his earbud sent out it's scheduled compressed transmission, and Shara laughed: it had taken his inadvertant muttering as a subvocalisation, and she heard it.
When they did round the final corner, Zyan could not have imagined a more staggering welcome.
On an off planet trip, back when their relationship was still going strong, Alenda had pried a few hours loose from a schedule of negotiations to spend with Zyan. The world was Regulus – the capital of the FSP – and they visited the cathedral together. It was a monument to the breadth and longevity of the FSP rather than any deity, containing a museum of cultural and scientific artifacts rather than crosses or choirs. It was a thousand years old but never finished – every time a world joined the FSP or a colony came of age, they sent a shipment of stone and a pane of glass. The stone went into the walls or statuary, and the glass went into the tremendous stained glass window that dominated the nave: a huge circle of multicoloured light. During the day the system primary sent a rainbow cascade of sunlight in through the window – at night it received some help from strategically placed lights outside. Day or night, it was astonishing.
"Can you feel it?" Alenda asked him, as they stood before the window.
"It's certainly impressive," Zyan replied, thinking she was referring to the feeling of awe the spectacle invoked. "So many colours, I wish you could see them."
"I can see the extent of the window, and feel the light on my skin – I also came here while I was at university, and I can recall the sight. I was talking about Ballybran's contribution, though," Alenda clarified.
Zyan got what she meant and homed in on a slight tingling. "Of course we sent crystal instead of glass," he said.
Ballybran's contribution to the window was the Guild dodecahedron in flattened, 2D form, rendered in thin slices of crystal of various shades. It had been wrought with care – no one shade overwhelmed the others or set up unpleasant counter-harmonies – and had been placed almost in the centre of the window: a prominent position, but just off to one side, hanging back from the big designs of Regulus itself and the other founder worlds. It sparkled far brighter than the glass surrounding it, but didn't try to overwhelm, content in the knowledge that it had power aplenty and didn't need to be overly showy. Appropriate, Zyan thought.
Quite, Alenda agreed. The power nobody knows you have is often the strongest power of all.
Cave fifteen was a little like the window and the nave from that cathedral, except that there was more window than nave: more Junk than cave. The Jewel Junk – sometimes nicknamed Big Hungry Junk, he was told, although that was unofficial - was the cave: it arced over their heads, covered all the walls and floor and ceiling apart from a walkway which it had chosen to leave, about three metres wide, leading to where an extrusion hung down from the ceiling, almost like an inverted altar. A shaft of black crystal was held there, about a third of it's length visible.
For once, though, the black crystal was unable to get Zyan's attention: from a uniform blue glow, the Junk came alive with multi-coloured light, pulsating and strobing in an ever-changing pattern that held the eye and dazzled the senses. Zyan found himself trying to follow individual sub-patterns as they emerged and merged with others and then re-emerged elsewhere.
It was Brendan that stopped him going into something akin to thrall, with an unobtrusive nudge.
"Don't watch too closely," the drone reminded him. "It's hypnotic."
Zyan blinked, half glad to be pulled out, but also there was a sense of something almost like loss: he felt he'd been on the verge of understanding the patterns, breaking through a barrier of some kind. It had also, though, cut both ways. He had been seen and sensed, as well as seeing and sensing. He knew what that felt like, possibly better than anyone else in the galaxy: but then he looked at Klerney, who was watching the patterns with undisguised awe and fascination despite the familiarity she must have with them.
She shook it off easily, though. "Well, someone just made a good impression!" Klerney announced gleefully. "Hiya guys, I brought some friends to meet you! They've brought more life stones!"
Zyan noted that the cave – what there was of it not covered with Jewel Junk - was wired for sound with mikes and speakers. The patterns slowed a little, and the same Crystal Singer-esque voice as before issued from them.
"Welcome friends and emissaries of Soul of Song and Wind Catcher. Gratitude at your coming here with Life Stones. Please, step forth, one by one," the voice said.
"Ladies first," Zyan said – he'd meant it to be flippant but found he couldn't quite manage flippant right that moment.
Shara made no objection, anyway, and stepped forward. "Greetings from the Heptite Guild of Ballybran," she said. "We are honoured to meet you and look forward to working with you."
"We greet you, Fierce Heart," the Junk replied. "You are kind to say this to us, for we know the giving of Life Stones is no small undertaking for your kind. We will try and shield you from what Soul of Song called the link shock."
"Thank you," Shara inclined her head in a bow, and – a rarity for the woman who had greeted her first look at the ranges with a shrug and 'huh, it's okay if you like that sort of thing' - looked slightly overwhelmed as she stepped back to the rest of the group.
She got over it in mere seconds, though: "Hah! Fierce Heart. Fierce. Heart. I bet your portentious name assigned by enigmatic alien beings is nowhere as cool as mine," she told him, with a hidden smirk-grin.
"Fifty creds says you're wrong, Fierce Heart," Zyan countered.
"Brendan gets to judge?" Shara asked.
"Deal," Zyan agreed, and stepped forward.
"We greet you, Complains Frequently, and bid you welcome to Opal," the voice said.
"Sorry, what again?" Zyan asked, with a hard look.
The Junk went silent.
Shara dissolved in a fit of laughter, and the Junk strobed in a multicoloured, jaggedly vibrating herringbone pattern. Brendan joined in, too.
"Forgiveness we ask for this. That is not how you will be known, but was found just too tempting to pass up," the Junk confessed.
Zyan twigged to the joke a few moments after everyone else. "Shard it, you had me there," he admitted. "You tell them that, Brendan?" He asked the drone.
"Not me!" Brendan replied. Zyan looked at Shara: she shrugged and shook her head.
"If you thought that was bad, you should've been here for the 'planet will explode in seventeen minutes' stunt they pulled on us last month," Sothi told him. "They do love their little jokes."
"Again, forgiveness we ask from you, Loves Without Judgement," the Junk said.
All the laughter stopped. Zyan blinked. Deep down, he knew, the name fit perfectly – although he didn't know why.
"None needed," Zyan answered as he stepped back. "You completely got me."
There was a moment of silence, which was broken, naturally, by Shara: she was a serial disrespecter of 'moments'.
"Fifty credits in the bag," she commented, with an impish grin.
Zyan's brain had finally caught up, though, and was asking the right question: how did they know about that?
- o O o -
He didn't get a chance to think any more on that right away: with Klerney, Sothi and a small team of volunteers in tow, they set about their task of installing and redistributing the Junk's supply of crystal according to their plan. The aliens were pretty sure what they wanted, although following an initial discussion with Zyan and Shara, they did fine-tune their plan a little and change some of their allocations. Different Junks, it seemed, specialised in different things – some were information processors, and could best make use of pink or yellow. Others acted as routers or hubs – green comcrystals were best for them. Others seemed to have a more mysterious purpose, and were assigned blues, whites – even some smaller bits of networked black: the Crystal Singer had been generous.
Crystal installations were never going to be Zyan's favourite way to spend his time, although the Junks were as good as their word, and were making sure that any crystal going in or out was inert until Zyan or Shara had finished their work and stepped back down to the floor (a stepladder was part of the toolkit that Klerney and Sothi had assembled in advance). All of the extant Junks were to have a crystal: the hardest installations were the three good-sized blacks, which were installed in the three largest Junks.
The heftiest of these, from the first cave, surrendered it's own non-networked piece of black crystal, which was to be re-allocated to a Junk which dwelt some distance from the others. That would be the penultimate installation: it would be something of an anti-climax that the final installation would be to take the sliver of blue currently held by the distant Junk and gift it to a smaller Junk closer to the others.
This entailed a walk, anyway, and quite a long one. For some reason, the penultimate Junk was a good twenty minutes slog away from the others. The passageway evidently wasn't often used – there was more cinder on the ground than the others, and the lights were sparser and motion activated to save power.
Shara was talking to Klerney, and Brendan's drone was talking to Sothi. This left Zyan to trudge along in silence, and his head was whirling with questions.
He'd run a mental analysis of how, exactly, the Junks could have got hold of Shara's 'Complains Frequently' jibe, and had come up with a few possibilities.
1) someone had told them. Brendan had denied it, and he didn't seem the type to lie. Zyan had used the black crystal earbud to ping a query at Shara, asking her to confirm – seriously – if she had let it slip. She'd confirmed she definitely hadn't.
So Zyan moved onto 2) Brendan had left the channel open after the Junks had given him landing clearance. This didn't seem likely, either – Brendan had confirmed it was closed, so they knew they could talk about the strange conversation and he could answer any questions.
That left 3) the Junks had some seriously advanced surveillance capabilities and had been monitoring them aboard the Are We There Yet? This also didn't seem likely – B&B ships were serious bits of kit and were designed to be as resilient as the FSP could make them, which included proofing against electronic snooping. Still, this couldn't be completely ruled out: even before Zyan and Shara had done the rounds with their crates, there was a lot of crystal on Opal in the hands of beings with unknown capabilities – but again, it wasn't likely. Zyan had briefly considered if the Junks were somehow piggybacking on the black crystal earbuds, but black networks were impenetrable unless you had one of the crystals in your possession, and there was no way the Junks could have one. They'd have to have been given one in advance, and the BlackTalk group set up to intentionally mislead it's users as to the number of crystals in the network. That could only have been arranged by the Crystal Singer, and that was a level of paranoia to which even Zyan wasn't willing to descend. So, all in all, the snooping Junks hypothesis was a non-starter too.
All that therefore remained was something that Zyan would have dismissed as outright impossible, except that his own experiences in the past had taught him that you needed to have an open mind about, well, having an open mind. It was this:
4) the Junks, like Alenda, were telepathic. They'd picked 'Complains Frequently' out of Shara's mind, Zyan's mind or – somehow – Brendan's. They'd decided that this staggering capability was somehow best used for, of all things, a joke.
Did they just not think it was that big of a deal? Surely the scientific team would have noticed it before now? If they had, were they being persuaded not to enter this in any reports back to the FSP? What else had they picked up on?
Zyan had no answers, but as soon as the thought had entered his mind, he'd mentally hunched in on himself, started a running 1-2-3-4 count at the front of his brain and tried to hide behind it, the way he'd used to do to try and keep Alenda out and, before that, Prot commissars fishing for dissidents in mandatory interviews. She'd said he needed practice at it, but he'd decided a while back that he didn't mind her being in there. He wasn't so sure about the Junks.
On top of all that, too, he was still trying to figure out why the Crystal Singer had sent him here. He was absolutely certain, now, that she'd had a hidden agenda. He knew he had to figure it out, and with the installations all but completed he was nearly out of time (as well as out of energy – this many installations in such a short period of time was sapping his energy and nerves). What had she said again?
I suppose it's best characterised as a diplomatic mission. To be exact, I'm sending you to check in with some old friends of mine – extend the hand of friendship, get in touch and keep in contact. Think you can do that?
Well, he was here, he'd been diplomatic, and he'd been talking to them. What else could he do?
"Um, Zyan?" It was Klerney. "We're here. Say hello to Sentinel."
Zyan blinked and looked up. They had, indeed, arrived. Cave 13's Junk – auspicious, that – wasn't quite as big as the first Junk he'd encountered, but it was getting there. It took up most of the cave it inhabited, leaving only a small area by the access shaft for people to stand in, and was closer to the floor than 15. It was a darker colour, overall, than the first Junk, and it's patterns were somehow more sober and serious. Zyan reminded himself not to stare. Why, he wondered, did this one get an official name when the others hadn't? Another Junk mystery.
"Hello, er, Sentinel," Zyan answered dutifully, putting aside both his weariness and his mental preoccupation.
"Hey, you okay there?" Shara asked – her own face looked pale and drawn: she'd been shouldering as much of the workload as Zyan had, and it was her first time doing installations to boot.
"Do you wish to delay the installation?" Sothi asked.
"They won't mind at all, in fact they'd rather you didn't stress yourselves too much," Klerney added.
"Confirmation of this," Sentinel's voice issued from the intercom unit set up by the entrance. "There is no shame, and much wisdom, in conserving one's strength against future need."
"One's strength?" Zyan asked it, noting the use of the individual article rather than collective speech.
"One," Sentinel confirmed. "Like you, Loves Without Judgement, I do what must be done. Those that take such a path sometimes walk it alone. Fierce Heart knows this too."
Sentinel's tone was certainly different from the others, too. It was it's own Junk.
"Sentinel takes the lead in controlling sunspot activity that would otherwise threaten the planet," Klerney supplied. "Sort of like our guardian angel. We'd all be dead without such protection."
"Little Sister is kind. Gratitude at this," Sentinel said. "With the black Life Stone, my task will be more bearable. Enough, perhaps, that I will be able to return to closeness with the others."
"Sentinel throws a lot of energy around when she diverts a sunspot or stops a solar flare from erupting in our direction. We don't want that to feedback into the rest of the family, so she stays out here instead," Klerney said, with a certain sadness.
"She?" Shara asked. "The others didn't have, well, genders. I thought it didn't matter to them."
"I am, above all other things, a protector," Sentinel said. "I have decided I identify most as female."
Shara smiled a slightly feral smile. "You made a very wise choice."
Zyan was privately wondering that if you could divert a solar flare away from something, you could also divert it towards something. You could fry a planet over easy, if you had a mind to – or a ship that couldn't dodge out of the way. It was one hell of an offensive capability to have at your disposal.
Shara returned them to the subject at hand. "You want me to take this one? You can install the last one instead."
Zyan shook his head. "No, we'll stick with the plan. I've got a black left in me," he said, pulling on his gloves again. "Sentinel, do you want to expel your old Life Stone first or should we install the new Life Stone first?" He asked – different Junks had expressed different preferences for this.
"New first," she answered. "Even as we speak I am watching three sunspots and repositioning a fourth before it strikes for us. I cannot relax my guard, even for an instant."
Sentinel took her duties seriously, it seemed. "Okay then," Zyan confirmed. "Let's get this done."
He took a pair of tongs from Sothi and positioned the black in their grasp. Shara donned her gloves. Sentinel was just above head height, so there was no need for a ladder this time. They positioned themselves underneath her existing crystal – Shara got ready to catch.
Zyan steeled himself, then offered up the crystal. It disappeared into Sentinel's mass, taking the tongs with it, but he was ready for that, and released them in time. There was only the merest trace of link shock – Sentinel was pretty expert in blocking that out, it seemed.
Her colours and patterns quickened and shifted, and she glowed brighter. Zyan looked down.
Sothi looked down and to the side, and his hand went to his ear as someone reported something to him over his comunit. "Sunspot activity has begun to drop off," he reported.
"And will continue to do so," Sentinel said. "Gratitude upon gratitude at this, it is all I could have hoped for and more. Prepare to receive my previous Life Stone, Fierce Heart."
The sliver of blue dropped slowly from the mass of the Junk – Shara caught it easily and, hard-nosed professional that she was, immediately stashed it in her crate without looking directly at it.
Zyan exhaled the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. That had been considerably easier than he'd expected.
Sothi was still listening in to his reports. Klerney was looking at him with concern, though, and came over to place a suited glove on his shoulder. "Um, you okay there, Loves Without Judgement?"
"Think so, yeah," he answered. "Just 'Zyan' will do, Klerney."
"Sorry," she said. "I sometimes forget not to use people's real names."
Zyan looked at her. Real names: she was closer to the Junks than she was to other humans, it seemed. "That's okay, Little Sister," he said conspiratorially. "I won't tell if you don't."
She grinned in response.
Shara sealed the crate up. "Okay, we're good to go."
"I would speak to Loves Without Judgement alone," Sentinel announced unexpectedly.
"Okay," Klerney agreed readily.
Interesting, Zyan thought, hoping that some light was about to be shed on something, at least. Everyone else had reservations, though. "Is there an issue with the crystal, Sentinel?" Sothi asked.
"Confirmation that there is not, Listens To Wisdom," Sentinel replied. "There are questions that go unanswered, though. Therefore I would speak to Loves Without Judgement alone."
Everyone looked at Zyan, who shrugged. "Fine by me," he said.
"Not fine by me," Shara cut in. "No offence intended, Sentinel, but I'm not leaving Loves Without Judgement alone with black crystal. He has...issues," she said, immediately projecting waves of do-not-mess-with-me that absolutely nobody could mistake.
Klerney was now wide-eyed with worry. Sothi looked concerned, too, and Brendan had arranged a similar expression on his drone-face. Shara had a look on her's that Zyan was well acquainted with. It was a look that said I have made my decision, and if anyone has an issue with it, they're going to have to go through me, and they better believe that won't be easy.
"It's okay, Shara," he said. "I'm happy to talk with Sentinel," he shot her as much of a meaningful look as he could.
She wasn't having it, though. "Not it's not. You know how you get," she said stubbornly.
"My word, Fierce Heart, that Loves Without Judgement will not be harmed in any way. Like you and everyone here, he is under my protection," Sentinel replied.
"He's under my protection too," Shara stated.
"And it is formidable," Sentinel said, without any trace of condescension. "I would not have you for an enemy, Fierce Heart, but you need not defend him from me, now or ever."
Shara actually seemed to consider this. She looked at Zyan.
"My decision," Zyan told her. "I'll be fine and I'm not worried for my safety. Go finish the other installation, and I'll catch you up."
Shara nodded and acceded. "Very well, Zyan."
This was a galactic first. Short of deploying tactical directed energy weapons, Zyan hadn't known there was a way to make Shara relent. Mind you, Sentinel probably was a tactical DE device in her own right.
She looked back at Sentinel before she left, though. Something passed between them, he would swear to that. Then Shara nodded, discarded her aura of threat and imminent violence as if it was a coat, and smiled at Klerney. "Lead on," she said.
Although there were a few backward glances, everyone left, leaving Zyan alone with Sentinel's glowing, coruscating bulk.
"I know you regularly face off against the implacable nuclear fury of a sun," Zyan said, "but that's literally the first time I've ever seen anyone make Sha-, Fierce Heart change her mind."
"The others chose wisely when they gave her a name," Sentinel replied. "She just told me, for example, that she would be more than amenable to taking on the task of getting blood from a stone if I harmed a single cell in your physical being or gave you the slightest insult in any way."
"Ouch. Sorry," Zyan replied with a wince.
"An apology is not required. Fierce Heart would do anything to defend her family, and I esteem her for this. She is like me, and like you."
"I don't think she has much in the way of family," Zyan told the Junk. "She was pretty much a self-contained package, back where she comes from."
"There are bonds stronger than shared genetics or memetics, Loves Without Judgement. Do not deny you have this knowledge. You are her family, and she is yours, as Little Sister is mine despite all the unimportant differences of shape and nature," Sentinel stated.
"You got me – she's a pain in the shard, but she's my pain in the shard," Zyan admitted. "Anyway, you have questions?"
"I said that there are questions," Sentinel corrected him.
"That you did," Zyan agreed, reviewing what had been said. "Vibrations, pretty patterns and crystals aren't your only form of communication, are they?"
"Denial at this," Sentinel answered. "They are. Before we go further, though, you must swear what is referred to, among your kind, as an oath."
"I can keep a secret," Zyan told the Junk.
"I know. Confirmation at this: you will not tell anyone besides Fierce Heart, Wind Catcher and Soul of Song what you are about to learn of us. They too can keep secrets."
"I so swear," Zyan affirmed.
"Acceptance at this," Sentinel replied. "You will need to look up, Loves Without Judgement. I will not hurt you."
Zyan had been studiously looking at the floor and repeating his 1-2-3-4 shield. He screwed up his courage and looked at Sentinel's patterns, watched them moving back and forth, and opened his mind to them.
"You are correct. Together, the patterns and Life Stones allow us to perceive a little of your kind in the way we perceive each other."
"So you can read minds?" Zyan nodded. It was not a surprise.
"Happiness at verifying your analysis, Loves Without Judgement. How else would we know what to call you, without that we had seen it in your beings? Little Sister is, to us, one of us: born here and of this place, it is what she is. Soul of Song carries music within her, it is the way she perceives the world, and all life, to her, is a symphony of individual notes. Wind Catcher lives forever, in his deepest being, with an eye upon his sails, whether he wishes them to catch a literal wind or a figurative one – that is how he navigates existence. Fierce Heart is a warrior through and through and always will be – even those that gave her a name amongst your kind knew this," Sentinel explained.
"Ferozacorazon," Zyan said, getting it for the first time.
"Fierce Heart in another, ancient language – but the meaning is the same," Sentinel said. "And do you not love without judgement? Your beloved, we have perceived in your mind, is like us. Unique amongst her own kind. Where others would quail from such a power, you embraced it, and her, without a single question."
"She's...an empath, yes," Zyan said cautiously. Alenda's true nature was a closely held secret – only the Crystal Singer, the Guildmaster and Zyan himself knew the full extent of what she could do.
"I am looking deeper than that, Loves Without Judgement. Worry not, though, we too can keep secrets," Sentinel assured him. "Empaths of your kind have visited us, and the memories you hold of your beloved are different to what we sensed from them."
"Okay – but I've sworn an oath to you. You swear one to me now – you won't give up Alen-, my beloved's secret."
"Affirmation at this," Sentinel responded. "We will not."
"Thank you," Zyan said.
"We may be able to help her with her gift," Sentinel said.
Zyan stopped and blinked. "What? She's fine, she's got it under control. The problem is that we don't know where she is, not that she can't handle it. The Crys-, Soul of Song thinks, I mean I think she thinks, she has to have deniability, you see, she thinks that you could help me somehow."
Sentinel actually sighed, which was slightly unsettling from a Junk.
"You are not, I think, the one that needs our help most, Loves Without Judgement. It is unclear what the problem is, but it cannot be denied that there is one," Sentinel said.
"Sentinel, I'm sorry, but I do know what the problem is. Like I said, she's missing, and the only people who might know where she is aren't talking," Zyan said.
"We have faced the same challenges as your beloved and overcome them," Sentinel said.
"I gotta say, you've lost me now," Zyan admitted.
"I have reached the limit of what I can sense and what I am permitted to offer you, Loves Without Judgement. If you can bring your beloved to us we can commune with her. Then we will know more," Sentinel said.
"I don't know where she is," Zyan said, desperation edging his tone.
Then, it abruptly clicked. Extend the hand of friendship, get in touch and keep in contact.
Could the Crystal Singer have meant those words literally?
Zyan didn't wait for confirmation – he yanked off his right glove, reached up and put his hand on Sentinel. There was sudden heat, but no pain, then:
He was on his mother's knee, watching his other mother dance. He clapped and laughed.
He was holding his mothers' hands, at a mandatory public punishment, watching a dissident get ten lashes from a neurowhip. His sister was crying. He pleaded with his parents to take them away, but they knew that would risk the displeasure of the Prot authorities, and dared not.
He was in the academy, meeting a recruiter for the rebellion in a back room. He was in an ambush, pulling the trigger of a pulse rifle for the first time. He was at the controls of a stolen Prot shuttle, jinking to avoid anti-aircraft fire from all sides. He slammed the jury-rigged fire control of the railgun he'd retrofitted in the cargo hold, and earned the name Black Zyan.
More memories flickered past. Prison. His trial. Escape. Vander. Zyan's return to Djiel. He went on to Ballybran, his first experiences with crystal, finding Yanikov's claim and cutting black for the first time. Chalice. Shara. Meeting Alenda. Her beauty – breathtaking on the outside, even more so within. The pure ferocious love he had for her.
Her pain. His concern. Her fear. His reassurance. Her helplessness. His forgiveness.
Her erasure of it all.
What? This, this didn't happen! She isn't able to do that!
The stream of memories halted. Zyan found himself looking up at gigantic stained glass window. He was standing in the cathedral on Regulus. Alenda was beside him – but there were no crowds of sightseers. The cathedral was empty.
"Alenda!" He exclaimed.
Alenda did something odd – she extended her hands, opened and closed them. Ran them over her hair.
"Alas I-we are not your beloved, Loves Without Judgement," Alenda said, then furrowed her brows in confusion. "Erm, probably not. Possibly yes?"
"Sentinel?" He asked. "Also: erm?"
"An expression of doubt, which I-we have just this moment learned," Alenda-Sentinel told him.
"I know what it means, I just didn't think I'd hear it from you," Zyan was wide eyed.
"I-we are not usually given to doubt, no," Alenda-Sentinel agreed.
"Which one of you?" Zyan asked.
"I-we don't really know, Zyan. Terribly sorry – I-we are in unexplored territory," the image of the woman he loved gave him a helpless smile.
"You just called me Zyan, not Loves Without Judgement," Zyan pointed out.
"I-we are starting- I'm starting to get a handle on the whole name thing, at least yours anyway, " Alenda-Sentinel told him. "This is closer communication than I've had before. I'm able to tell a lot."
"Yeah, really lost now," Zyan admitted. "You're just using her image?"
"Partial confirmation at this," Alenda-Sentinel replied. "This is as new to me as it is to you. When we first accessed the memories of one of your kind, it was chaotic, unexpected. I believe you would say that we were 'winging it'. We are wiser, now, though: we have had time to think. I borrowed her form in your memories, and within this memory-place, you may talk with me. With her. With us."
Zyan decided to just go with it. "What's happened to her?" He asked.
"You already know that, Loves Without Judgement. I have told you, several times."
Zyan thought back and remembered. As he did so, Alenda-Sentinel spoke Alenda's words.
"Sensing people's thoughts was enough responsibility. I don't trust myself not to control people. I don't trust myself to even know I'm doing it."
He remembered that conversation, before she'd left – and the six conversations before, almost exactly the same.
"Shards above," Zyan said to her, forgetting that this was just (probably) an image of Alenda. "You can control people?"
Sentinel seemed to have forgotten who she was, too. "Yes, I can. I'm very, very frightened, Zyan, and I made some bad decisions because of it. I never wanted to lose you – I love you. I have unlocked that which I locked away from you. I held back from erasure. I'm more in control than I know, and not as weak as I feared. I just need a little help to unlock my full potential."
Zyan brushed past the confusing jumble of identifiers, and gathered her in an embrace. Alenda returned it. "Anything. What can I do?"
"You can kiss me, Zyan," Alenda told him.
Zyan was about to do just that, but then stopped. "Isn't this cheating?"
"It is a metaphor, Loves Without Judgement," Alenda-Sentinel said. "I know what your beloved needs to once again be the mistress of her own fate, but you lack the experience of Life Stone based telepathy to communicate this in words. The transferral of knowledge, in this place, requires intimacy. I'm sure that I would be okay with it, Zyan, so stop being such a prude and kiss me already."
"In for a penny," Zyan said, uncertainly, and then followed orders.
A welter of information passed into him as their lips met, but he could only grasp the edges of it – Sentinel was right, he didn't have the experiences that Alenda had to enable him to understand. He'd been given someone else's memories to carry, and he'd just have to hope that Alenda would be able to make use of them when he caught up with her.
Alenda-Sentinel pulled away and smiled. "Have a little faith, Zyan. You were right and I was wrong – together, we can find a way. Come find me and kiss me again – then I'll know what I need to know, although it's not entirely on the unlikely side that I'll be, well, swept off my feet is probably putting it mildly. It would probably be wise to make sure there's somewhere for me to sit down and/or fall over while I download and process. This isn't something that's been attempted before, it could prove to be...physically demanding."
"Got it, but where are you?"
"P13205," she said, stepping away.
"Where's that?" Zyan asked, as the light from the window began to glow and shift.
Alenda shrugged helplessly. "That's all I told you, so that's all I know – but I'm sure you'll figure it out, or at least that Shara will. Fierce Heart is smarter than you are, after all."
Zyan narrowed his eyes. "That's you talking again now, isn't it, Sentinel?"
"Confirmation at this, Loves Without Judgement," Sentinel said, with a laugh from her Alenda-form as she did so. The light grew in brightness, and the movement of the stained glass pieces became a whirl. "I'm not wrong, though."
Zyan drew his hand back from the Sentinel, and the patterns slowed, dimmed and then faded to a uniform grey glow.
"Are you well, Loves Without Judgement?" Sentinel asked, through the speaker – it was Alenda's voice, and this did not surprise him.
Zyan nodded. He actually was – his weariness was gone. He flexed himself – no pain, but then again there wouldn't be – then bent over and picked up his glove. "You must've learned a thing or two since you did this with Soul of Song," he said.
"We have, but don't go spreading that about. Soul of Song kept what happened to her here a secret, because she doesn't want this to become a regular ocurrence. I tend to agree, as do the others. I learnt much just now, but I think, as they say, 'we can take it from here'."
"My lips are sealed. I won't be able to keep that oath when I find Alenda, though," he said. "She'll know what I know."
"I'm okay with that," Sentinel replied. "She's a good person, and she can keep secrets better than anyone I've ever met. Not that I've actually met her, but, well – this is still a bit confusing, to be perfectly honest with you. Influencing the multivariate factors required to divert a solar flare is a walk in the park compared to human emotion."
"You've changed," Zyan said. "You talk more like a person, and you sound like her."
"Apologies at this, Loves Without Judgement. I will stop," the voice swung back towards the Crystal Singer's soprano.
"It's okay, I don't mind. Pretty sure Alenda wouldn't either," Zyan said.
"Would you be terribly offended if, in time, I shared some of what I learned from you with the others? I promise to be discreet, but as you can tell, this has really given my language skills a shot in the arm," Sentinel asked. "And I don't even have arms."
"Cool with me," Zyan said. "I owe you for what you gave back to me, just now, anyway."
"We owe you for the Life Stones," Sentinel said. "Between them and the impromptu insight into the human condition that you've just given me, we'll be able to accelerate our plans for galactic domination and wipe out all organic life within a century rather than a thousand years. You get a free pass, though: everyone needs a pet, after all."
Zyan gave a snort of laughter. "Guess I've now only got myself to blame for any quote-unquote improvements to your sense of humour."
"Who's joking, inferior meat-sack?" Sentinel said, then laughed. "Actually, that one was more from Fierce Heart – you just gave me the tools to understand it. Now get out of here and go rescue your damsel in distress – but promise to come and visit again, and bring your beloved with you."
"I will," Zyan promised.
- o O o -
He contacted Shara over BlackTalk – she'd finished her installation and was on her way back to find him. He told her he'd meet her halfway.
"Did you get any useful intel?" She subvocalised the question.
"Oh yeah," Zyan confirmed. "We have a destination."
"Excellent. I've been chatting with Brendan and I think I know how to get him to help us get there, or at least part of the way," Shara replied.
"Good," Zyan said. "Hey, Shara."
"What?"
"I, um-" He stopped. His conversation with Sentinel had made him want to tell Shara that she was, in fact, family to him too. He just didn't know how to say it without coming off like a sentimental idiot.
"You, um, what?" Shara prompted him.
"I'm really glad you're here, Fierce Heart," he said.
"Obviously," she replied. "You wouldn't last five minutes without me."
"And I know it," Zyan replied.
"Hey, Loves Without Judgement," Shara said.
"What?"
"Given that we're doing this over a super-secure black crystal com system, and nobody else will ever hear me say it, I'm going to open up to you. You ready?" She asked.
Zyan, walking along a dimly lit tunnel, smiled. "I'm braced, hit me."
"I mean really ready. I'm talking complete emotional honesty here."
"Tissues at the ready, here, Shara, don't worry."
"Okay: you're not entirely an idiot and sometimes I'm a little bit glad you're around, too," she said.
"Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome. I also feel the same way about Alenda and Aviczue and Jo and like, dozens of people. Hundreds, really. An argument could even be made for thousands and I haven't even started getting into the ranking system. You're not at the top, but it's no big deal. Don't get all self-important on me."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, still smiling.
"Good. Now shush, Little Sister's starting to think I'm talking to myself."
- o O o -
With all the installations complete, their assignment was finished. There was a final encounter with the biggest Junk in cave 15, where the Junks professed their gratitude and reaffirmed the friendship between Opal and the Singers of the Life Stones for all eternity. Klerney gave them both an enormous hug and made them promise to come back one day. Zyan didn't doubt that they would. Sothi invited them to stay longer, but they declined the offer, although Zyan requested the use of a data terminal for a few moments, to send a message to the Heptite Guild confirming that the assignment had been completed successfully.
Zyan dutifully sent his message, then accessed the galactic encyclopedia in the private mode that was the right of all FSP citizens. P13205 turned out to be a catalogue number for a planetary system a long, long way from Opal and Ballybran both. Zyan ran some numbers. If Alenda was there, she had another thirty-eight days before she had to leave and head - at standard FTL speeds – straight back to the home of the spore that kept her alive. That assumed, of course, that the standard 200 day limit applied to her: but she wasn't a singer, in daily contact with crystal, so her limit could be shorter. Zyan avoided the traitorous thought that it might already be too late.
Moving on: P13205 was a nothing system – empty of life, no indication of resources that weren't available more easily elsewhere, and none of it's five planets were habitable. It had once been on the edge of explored space, but had long since become just another system of no interest to anyone.
He looked up the nearest systems. There were several that fit the bill, but one was a cut above the rest in terms of what he was looking for – a real stroke of luck, in fact. Zyan grinned, made a few notes on his wrist unit, and then wiped the history of his searches from the terminal.
Brendan lifted off an hour or so later, laden down with two crystal singers and the best wishes of an entire alien race and their little adopted human sister. They sat down in the mess, and Brendan once again played waiter.
"Back to Ballybran then kids?" He asked them.
"Not quite, Bren," Shara answered. "Listen, we haven't been entirely honest with you. CS Ree chose us for this assignment because, well, yes she trusts us offworld but on-world? Not so much. We were causing a bit of trouble on Ballybran. She made it clear that we should stay away for a while, and give the dust time to settle."
"Shara tends to hit other singers," Zyan said. "I tend to insult them if they wind me up." He wasn't actually lying, he rationalised to himself.
"In our defence they can be real sharders," Shara said.
"Hmm. I sense interesting gossip," Brendan said.
"Happy to relate that to you," Zyan said.
"You were telling me on Opal that you once played yacht for Lars and Killa?" Shara prompted Brendan.
"Aha!" Brendan said. "We come to the heart of the issue. For the privilege of a little bit longer spent in your charming company, CS Fierce Heart – and docking fees plus fuel and supplies at cost – I should be delighted to reprise my role as glorified yacht. So, where to?"
"Where do all crystal singers visit at least once?" Zyan asked, affecting a whimsical air he did not feel. "Maxim – where everyone's wildest fantasies are available, as long as you can pay – and we most definitely can." And where we can hopefully also hire a ship with a captain who won't ask questions, or even better without a captain, he added mentally.
"And we want to make the most of our time – can you burst jump us there?" Shara added, making her eyes big and pleading. It was a masterful performance.
"Of course, and in only-" Brendan paused, "two days, seventeen hours, thirty eight minutes."
"You're an absolute star, Brendan," Zyan said. "You don't know how grateful I am for this."
"It's nothing, I assure you. I feel a sort of, I don't know, fatherly affection towards the Jewel Junks. You've helped them greatly, today. The least I can do is give you a lift," Brendan told them. "Let me know when you're ready to hit the radiant tanks and we'll be on our way."
Neither of the singers hung about waiting – they finished their drinks for the look of it, and then went immediately to the radiant tanks.