her eyes； she felt a sudden pressure on her arm and her senses reeled once more back into unconsciousness。
She was still tied when she woke the second time； with an awful taste in her mouth and the tang of salt in her nostrils。 She could hear the hiss of wind and the slap of water not far from her ears。 Cautiously she opened her eyes a slit。 She was on a boat； all right； in an upper berth in a small cabin。 She was aware of another presence in the room but dared not signal her consciousness by sound or movement。 Her jaw still ached though not； she thought； as much as on her previous awakening。 Whatever drug they had given her was pounded with a muscle relaxant； for she felt exceedingly limp。 So why did they bother to keep her bound？
She heard footsteps approaching the cabin and controlled her breathing to the slow regularity of the sleeper just as an outer hatch was flung open。 Spray beaded her face。 A warm spray so that her muscles did not betray her。
〃No sign？〃
〃No。 See for yourself。 Hasn't moved a muscle。 You didn't give her too much； did you？ Those singers have different metabolisms。〃
The inquisitor snorted。 〃Not that different； no matter what she said about alcoholic intake。〃 Amusement rippled in his voice as he approached the bed。 Killashandra forced herself to remain limp though anger began to boil away the medically induced tranquillity as she reacted to the fact that she； a member of the Heptite Guild； a crystal singer； had been kidnapped。 On the other hand； her kidnapping seemed to indicate that not everyone was content to remain on Optheria。 Or did it？
Strong fingers gripped her chin； the thumb pressing painfully on the bruise for a moment； before the fingers slid to the pulse…beat in her throat。 She kept her neck muscles lax to permit this handling。 Feigning unconsciousness might result in unguarded explanations being exchanged over her inert body。 And she needed some before she made her move。
〃That was some crack you fetched her； Lars Dahl。 She won't appreciate the bruise。〃
〃She'll have too much on her mind to worry about something so minor。〃
〃Are you sure this scheme is going to work； Lars？〃
〃It's the first break we've had； Prale。 The Elders won't be able to fix the organ without a crystal singer。 And they've got to。 So they must apply again to the Heptite Guild to replace this one； and that will require explanations； and that will bring FSP investigators to this planet。 And there's our chance to make the injustice known。〃
What about the injustice you did me？ Killashandra wanted to shout。 Instead she twitched with anger。 And gave herself away。
〃She's ing round。 Hand me the syringe。〃
Killashandra opened her eyes； about to argue for her freedom when she felt the pressure that brooked no argument。
Her final awakening was not at all what she had been expecting。 A balmy breeze rippled across her body。 Her hands were untied and she was no longer on a fortable surface。 Her mouth tasted more vile than ever； and her head ached。 She controlled herself once more； trying to sort out the sounds that reached her ears。 Wind soughing。 Okay。 A rolling noise？ Ocean waves breaking on shore line not far away。 The smells that accosted her nostrils were as varied as the wind and wave； subtle musty floral fragrances； rotten vegetation； dry sand； fish； and other smells which she'd identify later。 Of human noises or presences she had no input。
She opened her eyes a fraction and it was dark。 Encouraged； she widened her vision。 She was lying on her back on a woven mat。 Sand had blown onto it； gritty against her bare skin； under her head。 Overhead； trees bent their fronds； one sweeping against her shoulder in a gentle caress。 Cautiously she lifted her torso； propping herself up on one elbow。 She was no more than ten meters from the ocean； but the high…tide mark was safely between her and the sea； to judge by the debris pushed into an uneven line along the sand。
Islanders？ What had Ampris said about the islanders。 That they'd had to be disciplined out of autonomous notions？ And the young man of the corridor who had assailed her。 He had been suntanned。 That was why his skin was so dark in parison to the other onlookers。
Killashandra looked around her for any sign of human habitation； knowing that there wouldn't be any。 She had been abandoned on the island。 Kidnapped and abandoned。 She got up； absently brushing the sand off her as she swung about； fighting her conflicting emotions。 Kidnapped and abandoned！ So much for the prestige of the Heptite Guild on these backward planets。 So much for another of Lanzecki's off…world assignments！
Why hadn't she left a message for Corish？
Chapter 8
Killashandra grimaced as she crossed off yet another week on the immense tree under which she had erected her shelter。
She sheathed the knife again and involuntarily scanned the horizon in all directions； for her polly tree dominated the one elevation on the island。 Once again she saw distant sails to the northeast； the orange of the triangles brilliant against the sky。
〃May their masts snap in a squall and their bodies rot in the briny deep！〃 she muttered and then kicked at the thick trunk of the tree。 〃Why don't you ever fish in my lagoon？〃
Morning and night she threw in her hook and line and was rewarded by wriggling fish。 Some she had learned to throw back； for their flesh was either inedibly tough or tasteless。 The small yellowbacks were the sweetest and seemed to throw themselves with selfless sacrifice on her hook。
The bronzed young man had not stranded her without equipment。 When dawn had e on that bleak first day； she had discovered hatchet； knife； hooks； line； net； emergency rations in vacuum pack； and an illustrated pamphlet on the resources of the ubiquitous polly tree。 She had cast that contemptuously to one side until boredom set in three days later。
For someone who had been as active as Killashandra； enforced idleness was almost a crippling punishment。 To pass the time she had retrieved the pamphlet and read it through； then decided to see if she could make something out of this so…universal plant。 She had already noticed that many of the tree's multiple trunks had had satellite trunks removed at an early age。 Her manual said that these were cut for the tender heart or the soft pith； both nutritious。 Was the locals' interference with 〃nature〃 one of the reasons for their discipline by the mainland？
And how far away was the mainland？ She couldn't even hazard a guess as to how long she had been unconscious。 More than a day； at the least。 She wished she'd studied the geography of Optheria more closely； for she couldn't even guess at the location of her island on the planet's surface。 In her first days； she had prowled the island's perimeter ceaselessly； for there were neighboring ones tantalizingly visible even though they were also small。 Hers at least boasted a bubbling spring that flowed from its rocky source mid…island into the lagoon。 And； if she could trust her judgment； hers was the largest in the cluster。
Before she immersed herself in polly tree studies； she had swum to the nearest of the group。 Plenty of polly trees but no water。 And beyond that islet more were scattered in careless abundance across the clear aquamarine sea … some large enough to support only a single tuft of polly trees so she had returned to her island； the best of a bad lot。
Working with her hands and for a varied diet did not prevent Killashandra from endless speculations about her situation。 She had been kidnapped for a purpose … to force an investigation of Optherian restrictions。 The FSP； much less her own Guild； would not tolerate such an outrage。 If … and here her brief knowledge of the Optherians let her down … the Optherians admitted to FSP and the Heptite Guild that she had been abducted。
Still； the Elders needed an operative organ by the time of the Summer Festival； and to do that they needed a crystal singer to make the installation。 The crystal they had； but surely they wouldn't attempt such a delicate job。 Well； it wasn't that delicate； Killashandra knew； but the crystal would prove difficult if not handled properly。 So； grant that the Optherians would be searching for her； would th