For other's weal avail'd on high,

nonexistence. This, plus the deep brown of her tan, altered her appearance so that she had almost not recognized herself. The whites and the intense green of her eyes with the filtering lenses were emphasized by the tan and dominated her face. The exertions of the last few days had thinned all the flesh which she had acquired with easy living on the voyage. She was as gaunt as if shed been in the Crystal Ranges for weeks. Furthermore she felt like she had. Why was it, when she was tired, she still felt the crystal surging through her bones? There was only one other building on the waterfront, set off a little from the others, looking rather more prosperous. A factors residence? She made for it, having little choice, ignoring the covert glances of the few pedestrians. Was the community so small that any stranger was remarkable? Or was it indeed her lack of the proper attire that occasioned their scrutiny? She recognized the buildings function as soon as she climbed the short flight of stairs to the wide verandah which surrounded all four sides. The smell of stale beer and spirits was manifest, as well as a burned-vegetable odor, pungent and not altogether unpleasant. It was always good to know where the brew was served. The main room of the tavern was empty and dark and, despite the sea breezes wafting through, stank of a long nights drinking. Chairs were neatly piled on the tables, the floor had been swept and glistened wetly to one side, where mop and pail propped open a door. She gave the room a sweeping glance, which stopped at the reassuring shape of a credit outlet. Hoping she could make her transaction in private, she glided across the floor on her bare feet. Slipping her I.D. under the visiplate, she tapped out a modest credit demand. The sound of the outlets whirring and burping was unnaturally loud in the deserted room. She grabbed the credit notes, compressing them quickly into a wad in one hand while she tapped out the security code that would erase the transaction from all but the central credit facility on the planet. Ya wanted something? An unshaven face peered around the half-open door. I got it, Killashandra said, ducking her head and making a speedy exit before she could be detained. While this island town had more in the way of merchandise establishments that catered to fishermen and planters, she had marked the soft goods store in her search for the credit outlet. It was unoccupied and automated so that she didnt need to manufacture explanations to a salesperson. It only struck digital camera cycle time quality picture her then that in none of the shops on the waterfront had she seen human attendants. She shrugged it off as another island oddity. She bought two changes of the brightly decorated, and rather charmingly patterned, outer garments, additional underskirts for custom apparently demanded a plethora of female skirts sandals of plaited polly tree fiber, a matching belt and pouch, and a carisak of a similar manufacture. She also got some toilet articles and a tube of moisturizing cream for her dry skin. The little shop boasted a rather archaic information unit, a service Killashandra needed almost as badly as credit. She dialed first for hostel information and was somewhat daunted by the fact that all the listed facilities were closed until the Season. Well, shed slept on island beaches for nearly four weeks and come to no harm. She queried about eating places and found that these also were closed until the Season. Irritated because she didnt wish to spend time gathering food in a large settlement, she tapped out a request for transport facilities. Quite an astonishing variety of ships were available for charter: for fishing, pleasure cruising, and underwater assisted exploration with requisite official permits. Travel documents are required for passengers or cargo. Apply Harbor Master. Which I cant do until I know more about this place, Killashandra muttered as a stately woman entered the premises. And how many in sympathy with my kidnappers. Did you find all you needed? the woman said in a liquidly melodic voice, her large and expressive brown eyes showing concern. Yes, yes, I did, Killashandra said, surprised into a nervous response. Im so glad. We dont have much here yet. No call, with everyone making their own, and the Season not started. She tilted her head, her long thick braid falling over her shoulder. Her fingers moved to check the position of the blossom twisted into the end of the plait. Her smile was luminous. Youve not been here before? The question was asked in such a gentle voice that it was almost a statement of fact and not an intrusion on Privacy. I just came in from one of the outer islands. Thats lonely. The woman nodded gently. Lost my canoe in that squall, Killashandra said and began to embroider slightly. Came ashore with nothing to my name but my I.D.