We madly smile when we should groan;

stopped but now began flashing again.. "My, they got a lot to say to each other," Miller said admiringly. "How long do the exchange of courtesies last, boss?" "I should say they are just about finished." Mallory moved back quickly to the wheelhouse. They were less than a hundred feet from the harbour entrance. Brown had confused the enemy, gained precious seconds, more time than Mallory had ever thought they could gain. But it couldn't last. He touched Brown on the arm. "Give her everything you've got when the balloon goes up." Two seconds later he was back in position in the bows, Schmeisser ready in his hands. "Your big chance, Dan'l Boone. Don't give the searchlights a chance to line upthey'll blind you." Even as he spoke, the light from the signal lamp at the harbour mouth cut off abruptly and two dazzling white beams, one from either side of the harbour entrance, stabbed blindingly through the darkness, bathing the whole harbour in their savage glarea glare that lasted for only a fleeting second of time, yielded to a contrastingly stygian darkness as two brief bursts of machine-gun fire smashed them into uselessness. From such short range it had been almost impossible to miss. "Get down, everyone!" Mallory shouted. "Flat on the deck!" The echoes of the gunfire were dying away, the reverberations fading along the great sea wall of the fortress when Casey Brown cut in all six cylinders of the engine and opened the throttle wide, the surging roar of the big Diesel blotting out all other sounds in the night. Five seconds, ten seconds, they were passing through the entrance, fifteen, twenty, still not a shot fired, half a minute and they were well clear, bows lifting high out of the water, the deep-dipped stern trailing its long, seething ribbon of phosphorescent white as the engine crescendoed to its clamorous maximum power and Brown pulled the heeling craft sharply round to starboard, seeking the protection of the steep-walled cliffs. "A desperate battle, boss, but the better men won." Miller was on his feet now, clinging to a mounted gun for support as the deck canted away beneath his feet. "My grandchildren shall hear of this." "Guards probably all up searching the town. Or maybe there were some poor blokes behind these searchlights. Or maybe we just took 'em all by surprise." Mallory shook his head. "Anyway you take it, we're just plain damn' lucky." He moved aft, into the wheelhouse. Brown was at the wheel, Louki almost crowing with delight "That was magnificent, camera digital compact flash review Casey," Mallory said sincerely. "A first-class job of work. Cut the engine when we come to the end of the cliffs. Our job's done. I'm going ashore." "You don't have to, Major." Mallory turned. "What's that?" "You don't have to. I tried to tell you on the way down, but you kept telling me to be quiet." Louki sounded injured, turned to Casey. "Slow down, please. The last thing Andrea told me, Major, was that we were to come this way. Why do you think he let himself be trapped against the cliffs to the north instead of going out into the country, where he could have hidden easily." "Is this true, Casey?" Mallory asked. "Don't ask me, sir. Those twothey always talk. in Greek." "Of course, of course." Mallory looked at the low cliffs close off the starboard beam, barely moving now with the engine shut right down, looked back at Louki. "Are you quite sure . . ." He stopped in mid-sentence, jumped out through the wheelhouse door. The splashthere had been no mistaking the noise-had come from almost directly ahead. Mallory, Miller by his side, peered into the darkness, saw a dark head surfacing above the water less than twenty feet away, leaned far over with outstretched arm as the launch slid slowly by. Five seconds later Andrea stood on the deck, dripping mightily and beaming all over his great moon face. Mallory led him straight into the wheelhouse, switched on the soft light of the shaded chartlamp. "By all that's wonderful, Andrea, I never thought to see you again. How did it go?" "I will soon tell you," Andrea laughed. "Just after" "You've been wounded!" Miller interrupted. "Your shoulder's kinda perforated." He pointed to the red stain spreading down the sea-soaked jacket "Well, now, I believe I have." Andrea affected vast surprise. "Just a scratch, my friend." "Oh, sure, sure, just a scratch! It would be the same if your arm had been blown off. Come on down to the cabinthis is just a kindergarten exercise for a man of my medical skill." "But the captain" "Will have to wait. And your story. Ol' Medicine Man Miller permits no interference with

Then did he shake hands with his merry men all,

afternoon. There was no disguising the elation in his eyes at their progress. He was seething with the most excitement she had yet seen an Elder exhibit. Had he despaired of running up this years dose of indoctrinal conditioning on his subliminal program? We will finish this tomorrow, Trag told Elder Ampris, with a further day to tune the new manual into the system, and to check the other three manuals for positive feedback. One minor detail on which Killashandra was unable to reassure me: Was the organ in use when the manual was destroyed? I believe it was, Ampris replied, his lids dipping to conceal his brown eyes. I will of course confirm this. After the deplorable desecration, I myself conducted an inspection of the other manuals to be sure they were undamaged. Elder Ampris, Killashandra Ree and I would consider ourselves derelict in our Guild obligation to Optheria if we failed to assure ourselves, and you, that your Festival organ is in full and complete working order. Of course, Ampris managed through clenched teeth. Then, in an abrupt alteration, he smiled tightly. Most thorough of you. Can we turn on the main organ console from here? Killashandra asked, wondering what had caused Ampriss sudden change. I admit that I am quite eager to hear it in all its glory. Ampris regarded her for a long moment before his thin lips widened in the original smile. For you to appreciate fully the versatility of the Festival Organ, you need some measure of comparison. Therefore I am delighted that you are able to attend this evenings concert which will be performed on the two-manual Conservatory instrument. Yes, of course. Killashandra let pleased affability ooze through her voice. Now that this installation is nearly completed, and with Trag here, I realize how much tension Ive been under. It is always so much easier to share responsibilities, isnt it, Elder Ampris? she added gaily. He murmured something and withdrew. Trag looked at her expectantly. When the inevitable can no longer be avoided, it is always wise to accept it gracefully. She grimaced. Though I have to admit I despise student concerts. Lars grinned. Oh, you wont be getting the students tonight, Killa. And in view of what you told me of the origin of Ampriss party piece, I eagerly await your critical appraisal. Are you at all musical, Guildmember? he asked Trag. Frequently. Trag carefully replaced the tools in their case, gestured for Lars to close the crystal container. Killashandra covered the manual, and digital camera reviews samsung taking a hair from her head, wet it and laid it carefully across one corner of the lid. Trag gave a snort that she translated as approval. Hair of the dog that bit? Lars asked. Where do you get these sayings? Killashandra demanded, rolling her eyes in exaggerated dismay. Then she pointed to his pocket. Id like to have a close look at that device, Trag said. Lars withdrew the little jammer. Trag, Im trying to get them to believe that its me distorting their monitors. Trag surprised Killashandra by placing his hand flat against her shoulder blade. Not any more. But I would qualify. Sensible of you. How many of the myths about crystal singers are derived from sensible precautions? she asked Trag. Or survival techniques? Trag shrugged indifferently. Lars deactivated the device as Killashandra opened the door panel and the three left the loft. Killashandra watched Trag to see if the acoustics of the Festival auditorium affected him. Trag did not so much as alter his firm stride or respond to the echoes his vigorous pace produced. The guards had to scurry to keep up with them. Once inside the guest suite which Trag was to share with them, Lars switched on the jammer before he passed it over to Trag. Theyve been replacing the monitors in the organ loft every day but a trill of crystal and they shatter. Killashandra told Trag as she made her way to the beverage counter. A cold glass of the Bascum, Trag? Please. Trag returned the jammer to Lars. What sort of detector do they have at the shuttleport? Isotope scanner. Lars said with a grimace. The popular theory is that the detector is set off by a rare isotope of iron peculiar to Optherian soil. Once the residue of the isotope builds up in the bone marrow, it tends to be self-perpetuating. Thereve been unsuccessful attempts to neutralize the isotope and jam the scanners but nothing works. Then he scowled. All the guards are rehabs and never miss. Trying to get past them is an effective form of suicide. There is also a stun field that operates in the event that another concerted attempt is ever made to gain entry to the port. I was met by four Optherians Trag began. Who had been passed in. Oh, authorized personnel come and go but they are very careful to display their authorization to the guards. Killashandra had

Sick, and going to die,

What Nahia knows, Hauness does, and safe enough in both their hands. But then what? Hard copy on the suicide files is rapidly available. But I should insist that you meet with other groups to prove unquestionably that the arbitrary restriction to Optheria is not popularly acceptable. Im glad you agree to that. In doing that, you will also need to avoid the Elders. It wouldnt do for them to discover you blithely treading the cobbles at Ironwood or the terraces of Maitland. You never told them youd kidnapped me, so why couldnt I visit other communities? Because youve now been missing for five weeks. How would you explain such an absence, much less why you havent repaired their precious Festival organ? Idve done that if that wretched security officer hadnt been in his flatulent dotage! My absence is easy to explain. I just dont explain it. She shrugged diffidently. Lars sniggered. You dont know how much our Elders dislike mysteries You have seen me playing a humble island maid, Lars. Try seeing me as a highly indignant and aristocratic member of the Heptite Guild. As she spoke, her voice became strange, disdainful, and Killashandra pulled herself arrogantly erect. Lars started to remove his arm from her shoulders in reaction to the transformation. Im more than a match for Ampris or Torkes. And they need my services far too much to annoy me again. Im obliged to mention that theyve sent for a replacement I know that. How could you? Killashandra grinned at him. Crystal singers have preternaturally acute hearing. You and your little band of conspirators were only across the room from me. I heard every word. Lars momentarily let the tiller slip but Killashandra grabbed it and steadied the helm. A second crystal singer might be all to the good, depending on who they send. But weve time to spare itll take nearly ten weeks to get another singer here. I happen to need the contract money so Ill repair their damned organ. Maybe this time, Ill get the kind of help I need. A thought suddenly struck Killashandra. By all thats holy, Ill get you! She prodded Larss chest with her forefinger. Lars snorted with derision. Im the last person welcome in the Conservatory! Ah, but wide angle ultra compact digital camera you will be welcome as the man who rescued this poor abandoned crystal singer from durancevile! What? Well, that would answer why Ive been absent. But, of course, I never set eyes on my abductor so I cant say who it might be. Killashandra fluttered her eyelashes in mock horror. There I was, taking a stroll to compose myself after that horrible confrontation with an officious oaf and wham! bung! Im coshed on the head and wake up, all alone, on a desert island, heavens know where! Killashandra got into the part with a faked swoon. Im less of a ham with a properly respectful audience, I might add. But there I am. Lost! Who knows who the dastards are using a plural will suggest a whole group of conspirators, you see And then you Killashandra laid a delicate hand on Larss arm. His eyes were bright with mirth and he had his lips pressed together against distracting laughter. You loyal despite your terrible disappointment and Killashandra put her hand to her breast and breathed hard rescued me and insisted on returning me to the safety of the City, to install the crystal manual so that the priceless organ will be ready for the Summer Festival. Thus currying favor with the powers that be which, in view of your subversive activities, is a very good idea and saving them the cost of another expensive crystal singer. We are very expensive to hire, you see. And I have the impression that the Elders are credit-crunchers. Lars began to chuckle, rubbing his chin as if he was visualizing those moments of triumph. If you can be trusted not to overact he ducked as she shook her fist at him you know, it might work. Of course it will work! I was able to gauge audience reactions to a pico. And more than just give you a well-deserved return for their meanness and chicanery to you, Ill pretend that Im so very nervous about a repetition of assault and battery that Ill need you by my side all the time. I think, Lars began, slowly, thoughtfully, Father and the others will like this plan. Lars gave a rueful snort. I got rather soundly told off for acting in a unilateral fashion when I abducted you, you know. My father is a mild mannered man most of the time Then let us by all means present this idea to him them. And by the way, speaking of mild-mannered men, what do you know about Corish von Mittelstern? The man looking for his uncle? Thats

And why sae sad gang yee O?

could clearly see us even through the drift and making certain that none of us tried to drop off the sled, and of blinding us so that we were quite unable to see what he was doing, even to see whether he was watching us at all. It was frustrating, maddening. And, for good measure and to prevent any desperate attempt at escape in the occasionally blinding flurries of snow, he brought Margaret and Helene up into the cabin and bound their hands: they were the surety for our good conduct. That left eight of us on the tractor sled, Theodore Mahler and Marie LeGarde stretched out in the middle, three of us sitting on each side. Almost immediately after we had moved off and pulled a pair of tarpaulins over ourselves for what meagre shelter they could afford, Jackstraw leaned across and tapped me on the shoulder with something held in his hand. I reached up and took it from him. "Corazzini's wallet,1 he said softly. For all the chance of his being overheard by either Smallwood or Corazzini above the roar of the engine and the voice of the gale, he could have shouted out the words. "Fell from his pocket when Zagero knocked him down. He didn't see it go, but I didsat on top of it while Smallwood told us to squat in the snow." I stripped off my gloves, opened the wallet and examined its contents in the light of the torch Jackstraw had also passed acrossa torch with the beam carefully hooded and screened to prevent the slightest chink of light escaping from under the tarpaulin: at this time, Smallwood had not yet switched on the searchlight. The wallet provided us with that last proof of the thoroughness, the meticulous care with which these two men had provided themselves with false but utterly convincing identities: I knew that whatever Corazzini's name was it wasn't the one he had given himself, but, had I not known, the 'N.C." stamped on the hand-tooled morocco, the visiting cards with the inscribed 'Nicholas Corazzini' above the name and address of the Indiana head office of the Global Tractor Company, and the leather-backed fold of American Express cheques, each one already signed 'N. R. Corazzini' in its top left-hand corner, would have carried complete conviction. And, too late, the wallet also presented us, obliquely but beyond all doubt, with the reason for many things, ranging from the purpose of the crash-landing of the plane to the explanation of why I had been knocked on the head the night before last: inside the bill-fold compartment was the newspaper cutting which I had first found on the dead body of Colonel Harrison. nikon digital still camera I read it aloud, slowly, with infinite chagrin. The account was brief. That it concerned that dreadful disaster in Elizabeth, New Jersey, where a commuters' train had plunged through an opened span of the bridge into the waters of Newark Bay, drowning dozens of the passengers aboard, I already knew from the quick glance I had had at the cutting in the plane. But, as I had also gathered in the plane, this was a follow-up story and the reporter wasted little time on the appalling details: his interest lay in another direction entirely. It was 'reliably reported', he said, that the train had been carrying an army courier: that he was one of the forty who had died: and that he had been carrying a 'super-secret guided missile mechanism'. That was all the cutting said, but it was enough, and more than enough. It didn't say whether the mechanism had been lost or not, it most certainly never even suggested that there was any connection between the presence of the mechanism aboard the train and the reasons for the crash. It didn't have to, the cheek-by-jowl contiguity of the two items made the reader's own horrifying conclusions inevitable. From the silence that stretched out after I had read out the last words, I knew that the others were lost in the same staggering speculations as myself. It was Jackstraw who finally broke this silence, his voice abnormally matter-of-fact. "Well, we know now why you were knocked on the head." "Knocked on the head?" Zagero took him up. "What do you" "Night before last," I interrupted. "When I told you I'd walked into a lamp-post." I told them all about the finding of the cutting and its subsequent loss. "Would it have made all that difference even if you had read it?" Zagero asked. "I mean" "Of course it would!" My voice was harsh, savage almost, but the savagery was directed against myself, my own stupidity. "The fact of finding a cutting about a fatal crash which occurred in strange unexplained circumstances on the person of a man who had just died in a fatal crash in equally strange and unexplained circumstances would have made even me suspicious. When I heard from Hillcrest that something highly secret was being carried aboard the plane, the parallel would have been even more glaringly obvious, especially as the cutting was found on the manan army officerwho was almost

He went galumphing back.

affected my normally unimaginative mind to a degree quite unprecedented in my experience. Or maybe it was a combination of all three that triggered open the floodgates to the atavistic racial superstitions that lurk deep in the minds of all of us, the nameless dreads that can in a moment destroy the tissue veneer of our civilisation as if it had never been, and send the adrenalin pumping crazily into the bloodstream. However it was, I had only one thought in mind at that moment, no thought, rather, but an unreasoning blood-freezing certainty: that one of the dead pilots or the flight engineer had somehow risen from his seat and was walking back towards me. Even yet I can remember the frenzy of my wild, frantic hope that it wasn't the co-pilot, the man who had been sitting in the right-hand pilot's seat when the telescoping nose of the airliner had folded back on him, mangling him out of all human recognition. Heaven only knows how long I might have sat there, petrified in this superstitious horror, had the sound from the control cabin not repeated itself. But again I heard it, the same metallic scraping sound as someone moved around in the darkness among the tangled wreckage of the flight deck, and as the touch of an electric switch can turn a room from pitch darkness to the brightness of daylight, so this second sound served to recall me, in an instant, from the thrall of superstition and panic to the world of reality and reason, and I dropped swiftly to my knees behind the high padded back of the seat in front of me, for what little shelter it offered. My heart was still pounding, the hairs still stiff on the back of my neck, but I was a going concern again, my mind beginning to race under the impetus invariably provided by the need for self-preservation. And that self-preservation entered very acutely into it I did not for a moment doubt. A person who had killed three times to achieve her ends -1 had no doubt at all as to the identity of the person in the control cabin, only the stewardess had seen me leave for the planeand protect her secret wouldn't hesitate to kill a fourth. And she knew her secret was no longer a secret, not while I lived, I had stupidly made my suspicions plain to her. And not only was she ready to kill, but she had the means to killof the fact that she carried a gun and was murderously ready to use it I'd had grisly evidence in the past few minutes. Nor need she hesitate to use it: apart from the fact that falling snow had a peculiarly blanketing effect on all sound, the south canon power shot a digital camera wind would carry the crack of a pistol-shot away from the cabin. Then something snapped inside my mind and I was all of a sudden fighting mad. Perhaps it was the thought of the four dead menfive, including the co-pilotperhaps it was the inevitable reaction from my panic-stricken fear of a moment ago, and perhaps, too, it had no little to do with the realisation that I, too, had a gun. I brought it out from my pocket, transferred the torch to my left hand, jumped up, pressed the torch button and started running down the aisle. It was proof enough of my utter inexperience in this murderous game of hide-and-seek that it was not until I was almost at the door at the forward end of the cabin that I remembered how easy it would have been for anyone to crouch down behind the backs of one of the rearward facing front seats and shoot me at point-blank range as I passed. But there was no one there and as I plunged through the door I caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark muffled figure, no more than a featureless silhouette in the none too powerful beam of my torch, wriggling out through the smashed windscreen of the control cabin. I brought up my automaticthe thought that I could be indicted on a murder charge for killing a fleeing person, no matter how criminal a person, never entered my mindand squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. I squeezed the trigger again, and before I remembered the existence of such a thing as a safety-catch the windscreen was no more than an empty frame for the thickening snow that swirled greyly in the darkness beyond, and I plainly heard the thud of feet hitting the ground.Cursing my stupidity, and again oblivious of the perfect target I was presenting, I leaned far out of the window. Again I was lucky, again I had another brief sight of the figure, this time scurrying round the tip of the left wing before vanishing into the snow and the dark. Three seconds later I was on the ground myself. I landed awkwardly but picked myself up at once and skirted round the wing, pounding after the fleeing figure with all the speed I could muster in the hampering bulkiness of my furs. She was running straight back to the cabin, following the line of bamboo sticks, and I could both hear the thudding of feet in the frozen snow and see the wildly erratic swinging of a torch, the beam one moment pooling whitely on the ground beside the flying feet, the next reaching ahead to light up the bamboo line. She was moving swiftly, much more

To-day will your hangman be?"

first-class medical attention?" Miller said hopefully. "Looks that way, doesn't it?" Mallory smiled down at the still kneeling Miller. "But that wasn't what I meant at all. Come, gentlemen, we have some business to attend to." "Me, all I'm good for is blowin' up bridges and droppin' a handful of sand in engine bearin's," Miller announced. "Strategy and tactics are far beyond my simple mind. But I still think those characters down there are pickin' a very stupid way of comn?ttin' suicide. It would be a damned sight easier for all concerned if they just shot themselves." "I'm inclined to agree with you." Mallory settled himself more firmly behind the jumbled rocks in the mouth of the ravine that opened on the charred and smoking remains of the carob grove directly below and took another look at the Alpenkorps troops advancing in extended order up the steep, shelterless slope. "They're no children at this game. I bet they don't like it one little bit, either." "Then why the hell are they doin' it, boss?" "No option, probably. First off, this place can only be attacked frontally." Mallory smiled down at the little Greek lying between himself and Andrea. "Louki here chose the place well. It would require a long detour to attack from the rearand it would take them a week to advance through that devil's scrap-heap behind us. Secondly, it'll be sunset in a couple of hours, and they know they haven't a hope of getting us after it's dark. And finallyand I think this is more important than the other two reasons put togetherit's a hundred to one that the commandant in the town is being pretty severely prodded by his High Command. There's too much at stake, even in the one in a thousand chance of us getting at the guns. They can't afford to have Kheros evacuated under their noses, to lose" "Why not?" Miller interrupted. He gestured largely with his hands. "Just a lot of useless rocks "They can't afford to lose face with the Turks," Mallory went on patiently. "The strategic importance of these islands in the Sporades is negligible, but their political importance is tremendous. Adolf badly needs another ally in these parts. So be flies in Alpenkorps troops by the thousand and Stukas by the hundred, the best he hasand he needs them desperately on the Italian front. But you've got to convince your potential ally that you're a pretty safe bet before you can persuade him to give up his nice, safe seat on the fence and jump down on your side." "Very samsung l600 6mp digital camera interestin'," Miller observed. "So?" "So the Germans are going to have no compunction about thirty or forty of their best troops being cut into little pieces. It's no trouble at all when you're sitting behind a desk a thousand miles away. . . . Let 'em come another hundred yards or so closer. Louki and I will start from the middle and work out: you and Andrea start from the outside." "I don't like it, boss," Miller complained. "Don't think that I do either," Mallory said quietly. "Slaughtering men forced to do a suicidal job like this is not my idea of funor even of war. But if we don't get them, they get us." He broke off and pointed across the burnished sea to where Kheros lay peacefully on the hazed horizon, striking golden glints off the westering sun. "What do you think they would have us do, Dusty?" "I know, I know, boss." Miller stirred uncomfortably. "Don't rub it in." He pulled his woollen cap low over his forehead and stared bleakly down the slope. "How soon do the mass executions begin?" "Another hundred yards, I said." Mallory looked down the slope again towards the coast road and grinned suddenly, glad to change the topic. "Never saw telegraph poles shrink so suddenly before, Dusty." Miller studied the guns drawn up on the road behind the two trucks and cleared his throat. "I was only sayin' what Louki told me," he said defensively. "What Loiiki told you!" The little Greek was indignant. "Before God, Major, the Americano is full of lies!" "Ah, well, mebbe I was mistaken," Miller said magnanimously. He squinted again at the guns, forehead lined in puzzlement. "That first one's a mortar, I reckon. But what in the universe that other weird looking contraption can be" "Also a mortar," Mallory explained. "A five-barrelled job, and very nasty. The Nebelwerfer or Moanin' Minnie. Howls like all the lost souls in hell. Guaranteed to turn the knees to jelly, especially after nightfallbut it's stifi the other one you have to watch. A six-inch mortar, almost certainly using fragmentation bombsyou use a brush and shovel for clearing up afterwards." "That's right," Miller gowled. "Cheer us all up." But he was grateful to the New Zealander for trying to take their minds off what they had to do. "Why don't they use them?" "They will," Mallory assured

No more doth old Robert, with harp-stringing numbers,

It was Jackstraw who heard it firstit was always Jackstraw, whose hearing was an even match for his phenomenal eyesight, who heard things first. Tired of having my exposed hands alternately frozen, I had dropped my book, zipped my sleeping-bag up to the chin and was drowsily watching him carving figurines from a length of inferior narwhal tusk when his hands suddenly fell still and he sat quite motionless. Then, unhurriedly as always, he dropped the piece of bone into the coffee-pan that simmered gently by the side of our oil-burner stovecurio collectors paid fancy prices for what they Raise a flame in the breast for the war-laurell'd wreath; imagined to be the dark ivory of fossilised elephant tusksrose and put his ear to the ventilation shaft, his eyes remote in the unseeing gaze of a man lost in listening. A couple of seconds were enough. "Aeroplane," he announced casually. "Aeroplane!" I propped myself up on an elbow and stared at him. "Jackstraw, you've been hitting the methylated spirits again." "Indeed, no, Dr Mason." The blue eyes, so incongruously at

Say very often to myself, 'Alas!

tourists. Those clothes arent local. Nor island. Im not a tourist, Killashandra inserted in the terse comments. Im a musician. Come to see the organ, have you? The mans voice was so rich in contempt, disapproval, cynical skepticism, and malicious amusement that Killashandra tried hard to spot him in the hostile group. If I can judge by my reception above, that sour lot permits few favors. A body really needs a brew here. Again she fortified her smile with winning charm. And licked dry lips. Later, in reviewing the scene at her leisure, Killashandra decided that it might have been that unconscious reflex that won her case. The next thing she knew an uncapped bottle was thrust at her. She reached to her belt pouch for the Optherian coins she had acquired on the Athena but was curtly told to leave off. Money didnt buy their brew. Although some had turned back to their job, most watched while she took her first sip. It was rich despite its clandestine manufacture, slightly cool, undoubtedly improved by a proper chilling but superior to the Bascum and almost on a par with Yarran. Your brewmaster wouldnt happen to be of Yarra origin? she asked. What do you know of Yarra? Once again the question was posed anonymously though Killashandra thought the speaker was on her left, near the vat. They make the best beer in the Federated Sentient Planets. Yarran brewmasters have the best reputation in the Galaxy. A rumble of approval greeted this. She could feel the tension ease though the work continued at the same swift pace. Above the rattle of bottles, and the noise of crating the full containers, Killashandra heard a gasping wheeze to her right, on the roadway, and then a dilapidated vehicle, its sides scarred and rusting, pulled up to the open door. Immediately crates were loaded into it, Killashandra helping, for shed finished her bottle and wondered how she could wheedle another, others, from them. Thirst properly quenched, shed find it easier to deal with the reproaches of Thyrol and the others. No sooner had the load bed been filled than the vehicle moved off and another, equally disreputable, slid into its place. Of course this patently unauthorized operation proved conclusively to Killashandra that the population of Optheria had not all stagnated. But how much of a minority did they constitute? And did any of canon a334 digital camera them actually wish to leave Optheria! Some people enjoy thwarting their elected/established/appointed governments out of perversity rather than disloyalty or dislike. When the third transport had been loaded, only a few crates remained. And the vat and its attendant paraphernalia had been dismantled and reassembled in different form entirely. Killashandra gave the brewers full marks for ingenuity. You expect a search? Oh yes. Cant mask brewing completely, you know, said a sun-wrinkled little man with a twinkle in his eye. He offered Killashandra a second bottle, gesturing to the loaded vehicle in explanation of his generosity. As she inadvertently glanced in the same direction, Killashandra noticed that his workers, each laden with a crate, were disappearing up and down the street and into the alleys. Just audible was an odd siren. He cocked his head at the sound and grinned. Id take that with me, were I you. Wont help you to be found in my disreputable company. Youll be making another batch soon? Killashandra asked wistfully. Now that I couldnt say. He winked. The siren became more insistent and louder. He began to fold over the doors. Whats the quickest way back to the City? Over two ranks and then to your left. He closed the last lap of the door behind him and she heard the firm click of the lock. The vehicle with the siren was moving at a good clip so Killashandra made rapid progress in the direction the brewer had indicated. She had just reached the next parallel road when she heard the sound of air brakes engaging and considerable shouting. She ducked around the corner and was on another deserted block. When she heard the pounding of booted feet, she realized that she might not have time to explain her possession of the illegally brewed beer if she was caught out on the streets. The first door she approached was locked and her quick rap met with no response. The second door was jerked open just as she got to it. She needed no urging to step into the sanctuary. Indeed, not a moment too soon for the searchers came pounding around the corner and stormed past the door. That was a bit foolish, if you ask me, said the woman beside her in a hoarse accusation. You may be an alien but that wouldnt matter to them did they apprehend you down