Free Silent Dances by A. C. Crispin, Kathleen O'Malley

protested.
    Impulsively, Tesa reached into her inside jacket pocket, removing a piece of
    quill-worked leather. Smiling, she un wrapped her eagle feathers and
    handed one to him. It was his turn to look surprised.
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    "Tesa, you can' t give me this. You earned it," he signed, half in delight, half in protest.
    She gave him a quick kiss and a Maori nose-rub. "Soon you'll finish your
    courses and do your pair project, and before you know it, you'll be on
    another planet , working. Who knows, maybe you'll end up at Trinity with
    me. But you' ll ea rn that feather. In the meantime it'll inspire you to great things. And when you look at it you'll think of me."
    He held the white-tipped tail feather of a golden eagle respectfully. Its quill
    was wrapped in leather, decorated with beadwork. Leather thongs with
    large, colorful pony beads dangled from it. "Do you really think I need this to
    think of you?"
    Tesa touched his hand that held the feather. "We'll write?" He nodded, then
    they began loading the baggage onto a nullgrav transport before they
    dissolved into a mess of blubbering good-byes. But, as Jib led the unit out the door on his way to the loading dock, Tesa turned back for a last look at
    their suite. Jib had turned the living room's holo to the Black Hills. There
    were two eagles flying there now. For once, the sight of them made her
    smile . Clutching her new knife, Tesa followed Jib out, closing the door
    behind her.
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CHAPTER 4
The Singing Crane
    Margaritka Tretiak handed Tesa a cold glass of fruit juice. "Tesa," she
    signed in Grus, "wake up. Drink this."
    "It's been barely an hour since we started the wake-up," Dr. Li Szu-yi
    reminded Meg. The health specialist of the Singing Crane, the Terran space
    station orbiting Trinity, was a plain, brown-skinned woman in her forties.
    Reed-thin, she had short, dark hair, almond eyes, and a cool businesslike
    manner. She peered into the young woman's eyes. "Besides, she probably
    doesn't know a thing about the missing voders."
    Meg felt disoriented herself. An early arrival meant both women were still in
    hiber-sleep when the Norton had docked with the Crane.
    "Neither of you have had enough time to get the hibernation drug out of your
    systems," the doctor continued. Meg noticed that Szu-yi never looked
    directly at Tesa when she spoke.
    Tesa drank the juice down, holding the glass in both hands. Meg wanted
    nothing more than to get off the station. The one-gee gravity made her feel
    old when she wanted to feel buoyant. What she wouldn't admit was that
    everything about the Crane reminded her of Scott. But before they could
    leave,
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    she had to find out what in hell had happened to their voders. Tesa combed
    fingers through her hair , rearranging two feathers she ' d tied there.
    The crew were beginning to straggle in, stealing sideways glances at Meg,
    acting like strangers. She should ' ve expected that . When she'd left she was in pain and grieving for Sco tt . She would have to reassu re them that she was okay and, most impo rt ant , that this young woman was
    just the person they needed.
    " I've talked to Captain Stepp , Meg," Lauren Nichols said. The crew ' s p ri ma ry computer tech and data analyst was round, Anglo, and thirty-five.
    Meg always thought of her as "pert," with tight , brown curls framing a pretty face . " The Captain's shipping invoice," Lauren continued , "
    ordered that container down - loaded onto the S . V. Holly du ri ng a regular cargo tr ansfer at space station Orion, while you and Tesa were hibe rn ating."
    "That' s ri diculous ," Meg grumbled . " I logged the datacard onto the lading bill myself . What made them think those voders were supposed
    to be delivered to the Holly?"
    "Ask 'em to give us a copy of the bill, will you, honey?" Bruce Carpenter ' s soft drawl startled Meg . What surp ri sed her mo re was how much she'd missed him. He had loved Scott, too, even though they'd never
    agreed on anything. Lanky, of medium height ,