Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Was walking along the town.

from time to time. Such as alcohol. Oh, I see, Thyrol replied, although clearly he did not. Does no one on this repulsive planet have a sense of humor? Killashandra wondered. Ah, here we are so soon, Pirinio said, for the vehicle had swung down the curving drive to the imposing main entrance of the largest building on this musical height. In orderly fashion but in decorous haste, a second welcoming committee formed itself on the wide and shallow marble steps under the colonnaded portico that shielded the massive central doors of the edifice. Although large urns had been planted with some sort of weeping tree to soften the harsh architecture, the effect was forbidding, rather than welcoming. Killashandra emerged from the vehicle, ignoring Thyrols outstretched hand. The Optherians obsequious behavior could quickly become a major irritant. She had just straightened up and turned to step forward when something slammed hard into her left shoulder and she was thrown off balance against the vehicle. The fleshy point of her shoulder stung briefly then began to throb. Thyrol began to bellow incoherently before he attempted to embrace her in the misguided notion that she needed his assistance. For the next few moments total chaos erupted: Thyrol, Pirinio, and Polabod dashed about, issuing conflicting orders. The throng of dignitaries turned into a terrified mob, splintering into groups which fled, stood paralyzed, or added their shouts to the tumult. A flock of airborne sleds reared up from the plateau to hover above the Music Complex, darting off on diverse errands. Mirbethan was the only one able to keep her wits. She tore a strip from the hem of her gown, and despite Killashandras protestations that she required no aid, bound the wound. And it was she who discovered the weapon, imbedded in the upholstery of the back seat. Thats a businesslike piece of wickedness, Killashandra remarked as she studied the asterisk-bladed object, three of its lethal blades buried in the seat back. The one which had wounded her pointed outward, a strand of her sleeve material laid neatly along the cutting edge. Dont touch it Mirbethan put out her hand to prevent such action. No fear, Killashandra said, straightening up. Local manufacture? No. Mirbethans voice took on a note of indignant anger. An island implement. An outrage. We shall spare no effort to discover the perpetrator of this deed. There was a subtle, but a345 camera digital film fuji discernible, alteration in Mirbethans tone between her first two remarks and the last which Killashandra caught but could not then analyze, for the rest of the committee suddenly recalled that there had been a victim of this outrage and more attentions were showered on Killashandra by the concerned. Despite her protestations, she was carried into the vaulting entrance hall of the main building, and whisked along a corridor, lined floor to ceiling with portraits of men and women. Even in her swift passage she noticed that they all smiled in the same tight, smug way. Then she was conducted to a lift while dignitaries bickered about who should accompany her in the limited space. Once again, Mirbethan won Killashandras approval by closing the door on the argument. They were met at their destination by a full medical convention and Killashandra was made to lie on a gurney and was wheeled into diagnostics. At the moment of truth. when the temporary bandaging was reverently unwound from the injury, there was a stunned silence. I could have spared everyone a great deal of unnecessary effort, Killashandra remarked dryly after she glanced at the clean, bloodless cut. As a crystal singer, I heal very quickly and am not the least bit susceptible to infection. As you can see. Consternation was rampant, with all the medics exclaiming over the wound, and others cramming forward in an attempt to witness this miracle of regeneration. Glancing up, Killashandra saw the very smug smile on Mirbethans face, so very like the smiles on the portraits. To what agency do you attribute such remarkable healing properties? asked the eldest of the medical people in attendance. To living on Ballybran, Killashandra replied. As you must surely be aware, the resonance of crystal slows down the degenerative process. Tissue damage regenerates quickly. By this evening this minor cut will be completely healed. It was a clean swipe and not all that deep. She seized the opportunity to slip off the gurney. If we may take a sample of your blood for analysis, the elder medic began, reaching for a sterilely packaged extractor. You may not, Killashandra said and again felt a wave of incredulous dismay and surprise from her audience. Was contradiction forbidden on Optheria? The bleeding has stopped. Nor will analysis isolate the blood factor which slows degeneration, she went on with a kind smile. Why waste your

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