For thame nevir mair wul I see O.

visions of Torkes and an improbably robust Pentrom urging the faithful onto the path to victory and planetarianism, defending the credo of Optheria to the death. An audible sigh of relief? preceded the applause this selection engendered. So the audience was being soothed to trust, encouraged to resist subversive philosophies: now what, Killashandra wondered? An alarmingly thin and earnest young man, swallowing his Adams apple convulsively as he crossed the stage, was the next performer. He looked more like a wading bird than a premier organist. And when he took his seat and lifted his hands, they splayed to incredible lengths, making the soft opening notes ludicrous to Killashandras mind, especially when she recognized the seductive phrases of a French pianist. The name escaped her momentarily but the erotic music was quite familiar. She held her breath against the first image and choked on the howl of laughter as the subliminal image of Ampris-the-seducer was superimposed, in reds and oranges, on the viewers abused senses. Fortunately, the notion of Ampris making love to her, or anyone, was so bizarre that the eroticism even magnified by scent and sensory titillation failed to achieve its full effect. Larss continual tapping was he succumbing to the illusion, keeping the beat, or trying to distract her from the powerful sensuality against her toe kept reminding her how perilous their position was at the moment. Bolero! The name returned to her as the lights came up. And fury at this arrant manipulation set a flush in her cheeks that matched those in Mirbethans as the delighted woman turned to inquire breathlessly how Killashandra had enjoyed the concert. The seats were all tilting forward, releasing their occupants once more into the cold cruel world of reality. I have never so totally experienced music before in my life, Mirbethan, Killashandra said in ringing, heartfelt tones. What she felt in her breast was not what the performance was expected to generate. A balanced and professional performance. The artists were magnificent. Excellent adaptations to the Optherian organs. Adaptations? Oh, no, Guildmember, this was the first performance of three brilliant new compositions. Mirbethan said and Killashandra could only goggle at her. That music was totally original? Composed by the performers? Killashandras surprised was misinterpreted by Mirbethan as the proper expression of awe. Lars squeezed her arm warningly and she managed to contain her outrage. A truly brilliant concert, Trag said, joining them digital still camera registry as the audience was dispersing. An experience I would not willingly have foregone. Never having heard so much warmth in his voice, Killashandra looked sharply at Trag. Surely, if her symbiont had protected her Now she stared at Trags flushed face, his bright eyes, and noticed that a smile had reshaped his lips. Killashandra grabbed at Larss arm, before anyone else could see her dismay, she pulled them both into the crowd, away from Trag and the two Elders who escorted him Easy, Killa, Lars murmured in her ear. Dont give it away. Not now! But he His hand twisted her fingers cruelly, reminding her of the danger they were in. That last piece will send them all to their beds, alone if necessary, Lars continued, breaking up the sentence into quick short phrases as he hurried her away from the hall. No one is expected to linger. Not after that dose of eroticism. They turned a corner, Killashandra accepting Larss direction. Trags coming. Dont you understand? No one here composed that music. It was all stolen! I know, I know. Yours wasnt stolen. It was original. The only bloody original music Ive heard on this fardling mudball! Shush now, Killa. Only one more corridor and were home safe and then you can rant and rave. I get the cold shower first. What and waste the music? She tried to kick him but they were walking so fast she would have lost her balance if shed succeeded. I will not be manipulated and the last word she roared in the privacy of their suite. She was hauling the Beluga spidersilk kaftan over her head as she reached the bathroom door and, flipping on the cold water, stood in its frigid torrent until she could feel her flesh shriveling. Lars pulled her out, handing her a towel as he took her place. I think its a shame to waste all their hard work and effort Did you want to go to bed with an image of Ampris? she demanded at the top of her voice. Oh, I saw Mirbethan, Lars said ingenuously, toweling himself dry. Mirbethan? Yes, didnt you know that was why she was included in your welcoming committee? Shes bi What? Killashandra