![]() ![]() "I've repertoire! I've worked hard and now-now you tell me I've no voice?" It takes years of hard work to develop the voice, to learn even a segment of the outworld repertoire that must be performed." "Of course you have worked hard." Valdi was affronted. "You did! You said-you said all I needed was hard work. "Lead you on? But, my dear girl, I didn't." "How could I what?" the maestro asked in surprise. Just then, she was too crushed by overwhelming defeat to be aware of more than her terrible personal failure. One day, Killashandra might remember those details. The heavy singer's muscles in his jaw relaxed sorrowfully into jowls. The genuine regret in his expressive eyes made him look older. She stared at the maestro's famous profile as his lips opened and shut around the words that meant the death of all her hopes and ambitions and rendered ten years of hard work and study a waste. Killashandra listened as the words dropped with leaden fatality into her frozen belly. But to Killashandra the risks were acceptable. ![]() The problem was, few people who landed on Ballybran ever left. Until she heard of the mysterious Heptite Guild who could provide careers, security, and wealth beyond imagining. And after ten grueling years of musical training, she was still without prospects. A Crash Course in the History of Black Science Fiction.200 Significant SF Books by Women, 1984-2001. ![]()
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