Intro: This is a textual version of Kevlan and Tamber's arrival on Hesperia. ---------- Trees, tall, tall trees such as he had rarely seen since leaving his home planet, were Kevlan Sharr's first sight of Hesperia as he stepped off the shuttle. _Star-Lady_, he thought reverently, breathing in air surprisingly fresh and clean for being air right around a shuttle port. _This place sure is pretty... _ Beside him, Tamber emerged from the shuffle hatch with princely grace, wearing his most benign of smiles. Their Hesperian escort, Morcet, bowed to them both; claiming that he needed to contact Guildmistress Leandrika to inform her of their arrival, he vanished off into the bustle of the port. Tamber watched the beautiful young man depart, one elegant eyebrow crooked, and then murmured sidelong to Kevlan, "I am disappointed. And I went to such lengths to charm him to my company!" Kevlan blinked, and then grinned a little at his friend. "Aww, Tam, maybe he jes' ain't inclined your way." Wearing an expression rather akin to that of a feline wondering why the rodent has just vanished out from under his paws, Tamber laughed smoothly and replied, "Perhaps, perhaps not; I have not had time to determine. Though surely his shoulders could not rival yours, Galahad." Both of the young Singer's shoulders were occupied providing places for carisaks to hang, and therefore not particularly open to viewing, which was fine with Kevlan. He blushed and grinned, and retorted, comfortable enough with his companion to tease him back, "Ah thought you come 'long t' keep me from freggin' up th' job, Tam!" "Quite so, my lad, quite so. As the watchful mother hawk guards her nest and fledgings, so shall I be the sentry for you and our crystal - speaking of which... " Kevlan felt a sudden flutter in his pulse, and couldn't help but grin hopefully as he followed his companion off to find the shuttle's cargo officer to insure the safety of the crystal that had accompanied them from Ballybran. Kevlan himself had cut that crystal, several months ago - before the last Passover - but the moment he'd seen the dodecahedrons sealed into the carton in which they'd travel, his hands had ached with the memory of holding the crystals' weight. And the claim... that lovely claim on the beach. He'd gone there with Berni... _that_ memory ached in him, too, but as he recalled the deep rumble in G of the black face, for once Berni's absence didn't seem to hurt so badly. He could see the claim before him again - hear it responding in a crash of sound to his own voice... "... very much for your assistance. We shall be checking in regularly until the cargo is needed, shall we not, _Kevlan_?" Tamber's voice, and a discreet but sharp nudge to his shoulder. What? The Sorter's green gaze flicked sidelong to him, even as Tamber bowed to the cargo officer, assured that the crystal was now under secure storage. Her eyebrows lifted, the officer in question responded briskly, "At your service, sir." Then she eyed Kevlan and inquired, not unkindly, "Are you alright, young man?" _Aw, freg... _ Feeling a flush of embarrassment, Kevlan stammered, "Ah-Ah'm fine, ma'am, thankee... Ah-Ah was jes' lookin' at the trees...! You got a real purty place heah... " The officer grinned crookedly. "We like to think so." "My companion, I believe, is weary from the journey, good lady," Tamber inserted blandly. "If you will excuse us." With that, Tamber closed his hand around Kevlan's free arm, deftly avoiding bumping the young man's carried gitar case, and hustled him out of earshot of any of the port workers in view. In a soft whisper, Tamber asked, "Kevlan, lad, did your mind just go back to Ballybran without us?" "Ah-Ah-Ah'm okay, Tam. Ah jes' ain't cut in a while, 'sall... " Tamber looked Kevlan's tall sturdy frame up and down critically - and when he was confident no one was looking, he briefly flicked his eyes' red Sorter lenses into place, and stared critically again. The Singer hadn't been putting out any crystal resonance in weeks - but then, neither did he show any of the signs of crystal withdrawal, to Tamber's enhanced vision. Good; he knew that his young friend had not cut more than sporadically in the last couple of years, but then, Kevlan _did_ have a near-Milekey adaptation to the Ballybran symbiont. He should not be in distress from lack of crystal contact for some time yet. Kevlan for his part knew he hadn't thralled; he simply was tired, and he did miss the contact with the black crystal. He said as much to Tamber, who smiled, agreed that they both needed to rest, and wondered where they'd need to go to do so. "And where _did_ that young Morcet get off to...?" No sign of their escort revealed itself, after a casual search of the port; nor did inquires of any of the port workers give any information past, "Guildmistress Leandrika is not available at this time." This didn't surprise Kevlan much; he'd spent more than enough time trying to contact his own Guildmaster, Maxwell Farantine, to know that such positions of responsibility inevitably brought with them crowded schedules. It _was_ strange that Morcet had disappeared so fast, though. Just like a rabbit down a hole. At last, a friendly young man identifying himself as Neiryn, an artist, directed them to a nearby establishment whose rustically-styled sign proclaimed it the welcoming center for visitors to the planet. Relieved at the prospect of stretching out for a few hours' sleep, Kevlan placidly followed Tamber into the place, up to the stairs to the guest quarters once the attendant was convinced to reserve them a room, and into the room itself. Once in the small and simply furnished chamber, Kevlan moved to dump his belongings in the nearest corner, but Tamber smoothly intercepted him and plucked one of the carisaks out of his hands. "No, no, dear boy, at least take the time to properly hang that fine garb Joran sold you! Don't toss it about as if it were an old worksuit!" Around a yawn, Kevlan mumbled, "Aww, Tam, we probably ain't gonna stay heah nohow... " Tamber arched an eyebrow. "What leads you to that conclusion?" "Well, Miz Le'ndrika was makin' sech a fuss ovah us comin' an' ever'thin', you'd kinda think we'd have real rooms someplace, raht?" Tamber blinked, as if surprised that the normally naive Kevlan would be making such a sensible statement, and then laughed affectionately. "I shall make a sharp-witted hawk of you yet, my fledgling friend. You are right, of course." As Kevlan scrubbed a hand across his eyes, he added, "You are also obviously tired. Rest, now." Kevlan nodded and without undressing, flopped bonelessly down onto the nearer of the two beds, and was asleep in an instant. Tamber smiled to himself, admiring the lines and angles of his young friend's form, but even that pleasant distraction was not enough to distract him from the nagging thought in his head. Kevlan _was_ right; even on a low-tech world such as Hesperia, you'd think that representatives of the most powerful Guild in the FSP on business for that Guild would be properly met on their arrival. Where _had_ that Morcet gotten off to?