"Doctor Hessian, we all do community work..  :'

 

"He's from the Freudian school of psychology," Sarah whispered to Kris.

"Dorothy's a social learning psychologist...  completely opposite to

him."

 

"The community work;' Dr.  Hessian went on inexorably, "for which I am

eminently qualified is to help those Victims still in severe mental

distress.

 

I am quite willing to allot all the time necessary with some of the more

prestigious Victims whom I have recognized, despite their appalling

ordeals.  I can certainly provide blueprints of the underlying

psychody-namic conflicts of their conditions."

 

"We know what happened to them, Doctor Hessian.  As it happened to you,

and it is quite a triumph to see you walking about and conversing with

everyone.  Quite normal again."

 

"Normal?  Normal?" the second repetition was louder than the first.

 

"What is normal...  ah..."

 

"Doctor Dwardie," Dorothy put in gently.  "Shall we take a walk, Doctor

Hessian?  I think the shelving of the books can wait."

 

Kris looked chagrined and Sarah evidently felt the same way for they

were obviously not supposed to know what Dorothy needed to tell Hessian.

 

Books in hand, they crept quietly out by way of the tarpaulin.

 

Although Dorothy had seen the slight ripple of the tarpaulin, she wanted

to continue this discussion outside, where there was no danger of them

being overheard.  Hessian, responding to a tug on his arm, followed her

out of the library, saying as they went, "My normal self scarcely

compares with anyone else's so-called 'normal state; "and "certainly

anyone here" lingered in the air as if the doctor had spoken aloud.  "I

have only just begun to recall how exceptional my normal self is.  You

cannot expect...  me...  to shelve books?"

 

"If I can do it, why should it be beneath your capabilities, Dr.

Hessian?"

 

"Now, just a moment, young woman," and his voice dripped with

opprobrium.

 

"Doctor Dwardie, Doctor Hessian," Dorothy said firmly but kindly.

 

"This colony survives because everyone...  everyone...  is willing to do

the basic tasks as well as the application of their previous profession,

whatever that might have been.  My entire team looks forward to your

helping us with the psychological treatment of the remaining Victims.

Treating trauma response has been such an overwhelming task that even I

have been doing this, as a much needed change of pace.  There are so

many more Victims," and her voice was not exactly imploring him to be

reasonable, as encouraging him, "than we can effectively treat with so

few psychologists, psychiatrists, nurses.  Will you join our treatment

team, Doctor Hessian?"

 

"Arumph.  Be part of a team?" and his voice and manner reminded Dorothy

of the English actor Robert Morley at his most pompous and petulant.

"You're not serious?  I hardly think so.  Not with my exemplary

qualifications."

 

Fortunately, there were few people around as dusk settled over Retreat

so she steered him to the flagstone path that would eventually lead to

his current residence.

 

"Yes, they certainly are, Doctor Hessian," Dorothy said warmly.  "I am

quite familiar with your professional background.  However, the psycho-'

logical team here is under my direction and we have designed a

multi-modal treatment program, which has indeed healed the trauma of

many of the Victims.  While your work within the psychoanalytic

community is a valuable asset to the field, we have employed a social

learning framework here because of its efficacy with psychological

trauma:'

 

"And I would, I opine, have to use..." and once again Dorothy was

treated to the magnificent disdain he could inject into such a small

word, "this ...  this multi-modal treatment?"

 

"Yes, you would, since we have found it to be so effective.  I worked

with trauma units before I was .  .  .  dropped here.  But undoubtedly

you would not be aware of my professional work in that area:'

 

"No, I am not," he said in a flat discounting of any expertise she might

have.  "Especially since you now have someone of my stature in the

field.

 

Surely you realize that a change of treatment models would benefit those

still in the grip of what appears to be catatonia.  When the main troops

ar-five, as it were," and his supercilious tone suggested that he was

smiling con-descendingly at Dorothy.  "...  the reserves are no longer

needed."

 

Dorothy was undaunted.  "Let's take a stab at this situation from the

viewpoint of research, and see what happens.  I understand that it is

probably a shock for you to discover that there are other treatment

models with empirical efficacy greater than the one you are most

familiar with and have evidently spent most of your life studying.  I

know, for example, that your resume includes eight books on the life and

work of Freud in theory and psychoanalysis.  I really do believe that

you will be a tremendous asset to the Victims."

 

There was no immediate response by Dr.  Hessian.

 

"Doctor Hessian, please don't misunderstand me.  I am not implying any

undervaluing of Sigmund Freud or the power of his work.  I think that

Freud was one of the greatest thinkers of all time in the study of

nervous disorders.  It's just that we are using a model with proven

efficacy, and the model your work is based in is most applicable to a

different treatment problem--not neurosis.  We're dealing with deep

mental trauma, not neuroses."

 

His earlier long stride, as if he had intended to outwalk her, had

shortened.

 

Now he stood, head down, pulling at his lips.

 

"I doubt that you and I, Doctor Dwardie, can ever work together with any

degree of mutual respect, much less find a basis for a proper course of

treatment for these unfortunate Victims."

 

"I can accept that, although with great regret, Doctor Hessian.  No,

please don't go yet.  There is one trauma case I'd like a chance to

discuss with you.  It was one that baffled all of us."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yes, now do sit down, Doctor Hessian," and she indicated a

strategically placed stone bench that had a magnificent view of the Bay,

"this might take a little time."

 

"I should imagine so."

 

"Well," and Dorothy seemed to be taking a breath before plunging into

this case.  "There is a professional woman, Doctor K a psychologist of

exceptional brilliance--whose case, though successful, was very

difficult.  She experienced the mind-wipe shortly after a series of

Victim deaths, or so one observer tells us.  These had resulted from the

effects of the modulated electrical current level.  Some of the early

deaths were those who had been trained as neuropsychologists although

leading professionals of all branches of sciences also were among the

dead."

 

"Yes, I had heard that," Dr.  Hessian was willing to admit, "from talks

with Doctor Seissmann.  Evidently Doctor Stanley Kessler was one. Tragic

loss to the field."

 

"I agree," Dorothy said.  "From various sources, we did learn that the

Eosi reduced the current to prevent additional deaths due to central

nervous system overload.  Unfortunately the reason was less humanitarian

than selfish.  The Eosi were killing before they could complete the

retrieval process that would extract the information they wanted.  To be

useful, the subject had to remain in a state of altered consciousness,

therefore alive, during the probe."

 

"What could be their interest in neuropsychology?" Dr.  Hessian asked.

 

"This is theory, of course, because they mind-wiped leading

profes-sionMs and state officials on a random basis but it might have to

do with increasing the compliance level of the races they have

dominated.  They have had an unusual amount of resistance from Earth's

races and they may well have been trying to find a way to disempower

their ability to resist.  Just 'turn them off; so to speak, by

inhibiting or altering the synaptic receptor response.

 

It would have the same effect as removing the drive unit from a

computer--you can ptmch the keys but nothing will happen.  For some

reason, and fortunately for the rest of those subjected to the

mind-wipe, the Eosi went off on another tact of mental exploration

entirely.  Or the percentage of death was discouraging."

 

"What happened to those who were so examined?"

 

"Some experienced organic damage to both frontal lobes from experimental

current levels.  Still others were left with the effects of

psychological trauma and some had both.  In addition, many have had

survivor guilt, as they were aware of the eminence of many that died.

They have, quite naturally, questioned their own worth at having

remained alive.  Others grieved.

 

Actually, in the case of Doctor K, there was some of both."

 

"Tell me more," said Dr.  Hessian and, to Kris and Sarah, he sounded

both curious and smug.

 

"Our patient, Doctor K, heard of the deaths of several such scientists,

colleagues at the university, and prior to her own ordeal under Eosian

instrument.

 

And, while the mind-wipe current level had been reduced and no further

deaths resulted, she was severely traumatized.  Having the power of her

mind stolen by ruthless aliens who had strapped her into a chair and

assaulted her with a searing blue beam of bright, laserbrine light was

devastating.

 

She had flashbacks of the blue beam following her, aimed directly at the

forebrain, entering her head while she was physically and psycholog

ically paralyzed, unable to escape."

 

"Hmmm.  Could cause severe neuroses, indeed." He cleared his throat.

 

"You have told me about the trauma Doctor K experienced.  Now I'd like

to know something about her development history, psychological defenses,

and pre-morbid adjustment level."

 

Dorothy took a deep breath as she was coming to the difficult part.

 

"Pre-morbid adjustment level is not a very useful concept in the

treatment of post-traumatic stress disorder of highly functioning

individuals.  The focus is more closely conceptualized as helping them

gain self-efficacy and self-control over their symptoms at the conscious

level."

 

"Well," and Dr.  Hessian's tone was pompous, "if you don't take

pre-morbid treatment into account, you are not offering comprehensive

treatment."

 

"In your theory that is true: in mine, technically, it's not," she

replied.

 

"Imagine a nearly new automobile that is totally destroyed in a head-on

collision.

 

We would seldom ask how well it ran prior to the accident or expect it

to return to its nearly new form after a visit to the body shop.  In

fact, such wrecks are discarded.  But, with people, the nature of the

human spirit often allows them to achieve an amazing level of

functioning so that they can transcend the level of the trauma. Teaching

how to do that by employing techniques from cognitive psychology,

behavior therapy, and multi-modal treatment has proven efficacious."

 

Another pause.  "Well, then, tell me," Dr.  Hessian said again with that

hint of gracious condescension, "what were the symptoms of

post-traumatic stress that were most difficult to treat?" he asked.

 

Dorothy decided that he was trying to buy time to revise his strategy.

 

"Doctor K had temporary post-trauma amnesia and flashbacks of the blue

light.  She could not sleep or remain awake without recurrent images of

the blue light attacking her forehead.  Everywhere she went, it haunted

her.  In dreams as well as in waking life, she was trailed by this nasty

flashback that impeded every aspect of her recovery:'

 

Dr.  Hessian straightened himself, a smug gleam in his eye and Dorothy

wondered what hole he would try to pick in her method.  He was making

eye contact now while he assumed his characteristic condescending

expression.

 

"This is why pre-morbid adjustment is so important to know;' he said.

 

"I would guess there was some unresolved conflict in this woman's

background that made her more prone to the flashback.  Do you know if

there was some unresolved guilt toward a parent or unresolved shame in

the area of sexuality, for example, that showed itself in this way?"

 

By now the sun was disappearing behind the mountains.  They could hear

others hurrying home but no one used this path.  She didn't want to rush

the man but they would soon have to leave, to avoid the night crawlers.

 

However, she had to make an end of this power struggle between the two

opposing camps of psychological treatment.  The base of their current

discussion, she reasoned, is power, not just theory.  There are two ends

to this rope: he is pulling one end and I have hold of the other in this

psychological tug-of-war.  I will decide not to play and see what

happens.

 

"Well," Dorothy said out loud, "while I would continue our discussion,

we must make it back to our respective residences before full dark.  I

had wanted to tell you that the way we treated Doctor K's flashbacks was

to bring under stimulus control using a fading procedure combined with

deep muscle relaxation.  We also provided her with an imagery

intervention which was highly effective."

 

Dr.  Hessian looked at her, unimpressed.  He was probably not inspired

by the a-theoretical even if it was effective.

 

"We'd best call it a night;' she said, standing up and his deep-rooted

courtesy made him get to his feet, too.  "I hope you decide to join us.

 

Would you sleep on it?  We could use your clinical help and perhaps you

could summarize Doctor Kessler's work and present it to the treatment

staff.  It might be a fitting tribute since you knew him.  Anyway, let

me know what you decide."

 

She took the few steps back to the safety of the flagstone path but

turned back, assuming a humble expression.  "Oh," she said, "Doctor

Hessian, before I leave, I do need to apologize to you." She even

managed the slightest hint of chagrin.

 

"Apologize to me?" he repeated, obviously pleased that she was seeing

the mistake of her own ways.

 

"Yes, you see, presenting the case of Doctor K was my way of attempting

to share with you the power of the treatment model.  I guess I was not

successful in helping you see that."

 

"Well," he said, with an almost gracious wave of his hand, "you tried."

 

"The irony," she responded gently, "was that while most of the case data

was accurate, one part was not.  I changed the gender of the doctor

involved."

 

"Well, I hardly think that is signifieant."

 

"Not when Doctor K is you.  We used social learning techniques to revive

your fine mind, Doctor Hessian, and they worked."

 

She saw his gaping mouth and hurried away, leaving him to digest that

final thrust.

 

KRIS AND SARAH HAD RUN as fast as they could to leave the scene of their

eavesdropping.

 

"Should we apologize to Dorothy?" Kris asked, her expression repentant.

 

"How were we to know Hess/an would come in, all ruffled and precipitate

a set-down?  I hope he got it from her, too," Sarah replied, not the

least bit repentant.  Then she shuddered.  "I hadn't heard her theory

about what the Eosi might have been trying to do.  Make zombies out of

all of us:'

 

Kris had a sick feeling in her guts.  She shook her head slowly in

denial.

 

"No, Zainal is certain that the Eosi were trying to search for possible

new scientific theories ..."

 

"And what, pray tell, was that?" Sarah asked acidly.

 

"A point, but it wasn't just psychologists and psychiatrists that got

the treatment.  There were heads of state and government departments and

whatever NASA personnel they could find.  All kinds of specialists."

Kris realized she was talking more to reassure herself than Sarah.  And

she wasn't sure she was convincing.  "Well, with all the information

that's come back, the High Command," and she managed a grin, "are sure

to come to some conclusions.  I'm sure Dorothy would have told Leon

Dane, at least, since he's still more or less chief medic."

 

"Well, it's not something we just ask about, is it?"

 

"Nope, but that doesn't mean we can't find out if it's been discussed;'

Kris muttered under her breath.  "That's the downside of being away from

here.  You can't keep up with what's happening."

 

Sarah raised her eyebrows and regarded Kris with a wry grin.  "Look

who's talking?  You've been traveling the galaxy and I'm stuck at

home...

 

Oops!" She caught Kris' arm, then pointed to the cluster of torches at

the dark edge of the settlement.  "Demonstration!"

 

They were not so far away they didn't hear the gasp as the latest

arrivals witnessed the emergence of night crawlers.  They could hear

male shouts of surprise and alarm and female cries of terror.  They saw

plainly the shadows of a milling throng, wanting to put distance between

themselves and the wet, slimy denizens of the night ground.  A chant

began, and from the depth of the voices, the two friends decided that

was a Maasai response to danger.

 

"I'm glad they're on our side," Kris said.

 

"Me, too, and Joe won't be on mine if I don't get home," Sarah said and

turned off toward her own home on the flagstone path where their way

parted.

 

WHEN KRIS REACHED THEIR HOUSE, Zane was asleep andZainal busy with

papers on the table, so she slipped in to check on her son. He'd grown

inches in the weeks she'd been away.  What else had she missed of his

development?

 

Zainal grinned at her.  "He walks well now."

 

She pulled up another chair to sit beside him, their bodies barely

touching at shoulder and thigh.  She had worked herself into a nervous

wreck on the walk home, thinking about Dorothy's theory.  WeLl,

eavesdroppers never heard anything good, about themselves or other

matters: as just demonstrated.

 

But maybe Zainal could reassure her.  She was certain to have nightmares

tonight, remembering the blank looks of the Victims as they had been led

off the two K-ships.

 

"Zainal?" she began and then noticed he was dealing with figures and

time slots, and entry windows through the Bubble.  "What's being planned

now?"

 

Zainal leaned back, tossing the pencil to the table and stretching until

his tendons cracked which made her shudder.  The sound made her wince,

thinking of bodies on a rack.

 

"Kamiton met some of the other leaders, and I must agree with some of

their ideas." Zainal linked his fingers together across the back of his

broad head.  Which reminded Kris of the burning question.

 

She put her hand on his upper arm in brief apology.  "The Eosi couldn't

come up with a means to turn off all our minds, could they?"

 

Zainal tipped his head back, roaring with laughter, and she had to hush

him.  Zane would sleep through a great deal of noise but not a bellow

like that.

 

He slipped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring

squeeze, his face against her cheek.

 

"They've only one of those mental helmets.  They could scarcely cope

with the millions of you Humans, and that's what they'd have to do.

 

Though Ray asked Kamiton, too, if it was possible.  It isn't!  It would

be bet ter if we could put the Eosi under that device." He made a

grimace, a new trait of his which made him seem all the more Human.

She'd caught the surprise in Kamiton's eyes over Zainal's facial

reactions.  Very un-Catteni, probably.  "Of course, their enlarged heads

wouldn't fit so we can't use that as a way of cutting them down to

size."

 

She grinned back at him.  "So?"

 

"So, since Kamiton needs to get back, we are going to see what other

mischief...  is that the right word;' and his yellow eyes twinkled at

her, "we can get into.  Actually," and he retrieved the pencil to tap it

on the various sheets that she realized were now laid out in a

semi-circle on the table, "Beverly wants to dazzle them with surprises

everywhere.  Everyone who went back to Earth is all for it:' His

expression was solemn.  "Your planet had taken a terrible beating and

still won't succumb to practices the Eosi have always found effective.

If not being able to get through the Bubble has been frustrating Mentat

Ix, why not prod them elsewhere!  Frustrate them more!  Confuse them!

Harry--I thought that was a man's nameharry them until they don't know

how to deal with the various strikes we'll make:'

 

"Well, there're ways to totally confuse a computer;' Kris said, "and

make it blow up.  Could there be a way to do that to the Eosi?"

 

"Kamiton thinks it's a good way to go;' Zainal said, with a sly grin.

"He says it might be the right way, too."

 

"So?" and she pulled one of the sheets toward her which Zainal then

deftly shifted back.

 

"So, since Kamiton can get access to all the recognition codes, and find

out which ships of which class have been destroyed or believed lost, we

can make our fleet into a much larger one:'

 

"By changing the code name?"

 

"And where it appears.  For instance, as Emassi Venlik, I need to bring

back all the metals I had to off-load in the asteroid belt.  First, as

Emassi Kulak, I will go to a mining planet and acquire a load..  ;' He

interrupted himself.  "Walter Duxie says he can't mine enough to make a

full load of interesting stuff, so we go where they are mining it. Then,

we take that load back to Catten." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I

wish to bring my sons to safety here," and he looked her squarely in her

eyes.

 

"Of course," Kris said quickly.  "They would be at risk if the Eosi

found out you're still alive."

 

"There is one who is sure I am," Zainal said in a heavy voice.

 

"Your brother?" And when he nodded, she went, "but where are your sons

now?"

 

Zainal clenched his teeth a moment before he answered.  "With my sire."

 

"Aren't they..." and she stopped because it was obvious from the pain in

his eyes and the tension in his body that they were not safe. "Kamiton's

seen them?"

 

Zainal nodded.

 

"Well, it's an easy way for me to increase my family," she said in an

airy tone.

 

"I will be their father but you will not be able to mother them;' he

said, surprising her.  He held up his hand.  "They are now too old to be

moth-ered.

 

But if you can be their friend, that will help integrate them."

 

"We've managed to integrate everything from Deski to Maasai, there

should be no problem with integrating two Catteni boys."

 

Zainal gave an odd snort.  "They will be safer here than on Catteni and

Kamiton wants to bring his.  Though he would prefer to bring his woman

and set her and them in one of the closed valleys.  We may have to

assume responsibility for any other young who might be used as hostages

by the Eosi against the activities of their sires."

 

"I'd think..." but she stopped when he put his hand over hers.  "Okay,

it's your call.  So are we all going back to Catten with you?" She

really didn't want to: that heavy gravity had been a killer, but she

wouldn't desert him for such a specious reason.

 

"Drassi Kulak proved very useful," he said with a grin.

 

"So, once we've delivered all this ore, what else is on the agenda?"

 

Zainal smiled.  "Karoitoh can find out the other places where Humans

have been dropped.  Some of them are very bad places, where many

deliveries of workers have to be made, and we may not find any Humans

left. But we will make the effort."

 

"Oh."

 

"Three of the ships, with a change of ID, will go back to Earth and see

what else they can...  what does Chuck call it...  liber--"

 

"Liberate;' and Kris grinned.

 

"Liberate any poorly guarded ships.  If they are loaded with loot, we

will just take off.  Otherwise, we will have what Leon calls a

'shopping' list."

 

"Well, you guys didn't lose much time planning, did you?"

 

"Kamiton thinks we must strike as often and as hard as possible to prove

to the others in our group that we have ways to annoy and hamper the

Eosi domination.  To make them helpless to counterattack."

 

"Lord help us if that Bubble bursts," she said.  "But it must be so very

satisfying to you, and Kamiton, to make the Eosi helpless."

 

Zainal kept nodding his head but his smile altered from anticipation to

immense satisfaction.  "We also do no species injury:'

 

"Oh, Lord, that's a good thing.  I wouldn't want to lose the good

opinion of the Farmers.  That Bubble is essential to making any of these

plans of yours work."

 

"I do not think the Farmers will find fault with what we do.  They are,

I think, flexible entities;' And when Kris nodded in agreement, he added

with a droll smile: "What impresses Kamiton most about Humans is your

flexibility.  We Catteni do not possess that."

 

"Ha!  You're as flexible as anyone on this planet."

 

He stroked her short, blond hair, running his fingers through it.  She'd

had to wash it nearly fifteen times to get the awful dye completely out.

 

"I have learned;'

 

"The more remarkable when all your lifetime before you had to operate on

a need-to-know basis."

 

Zainal turned his head away, looking out into the darkness around them.

"I want my sons to know all they want to know."

 

"I think sometimes we forget what a gift free thought is:'

 

CHAPTER SEVEN.

 

THE NEXT DAY, HASSAN FLEW SEVERAL leaders of the Maasai, for the

remnants of five separate tribes needed to be consulted and shown, down

to the southern end of the continent.

 

Mpeti Ole Surum, Caleb Materu, and Sikai Ole Sereb spoke some English,

understood more, and calmed the other two leaders, Pakai Olonyoke and

Tepilit Ole Saitoti, who had excellent Swahili.  Bart, who had boned up

most of the long night on Swahili words and phrases, came along on the

trip in the KDL, as did Yuri Palit, who was nominally in charge of

resettlements.

 

Baby would have been more practical.  The Tub would have taken a lot

longer but the tall Maasai would have been cramped on the one and

experienced some claustrophobia on the other, so Hassan said he'd just

make altitude and glide as much as he could on the way, to save fuel.

 

"I see...  planes...  often," Caleb said, pointing skyward.  He was

sitting with great dignity on one of the command chairs of the bridge.

Overnight he and many of the older men had managed to equip themselves

with lodge-pole spears.  The straightness of the wood had fascinated

them and Geoff, who did a lot of the iron fabrication around Retreat,

had fashioned spear tips.  "Never think I fly in one." He grinned all

around the bridge cabin.

 

Mpeti Ole Suture stood directly behind Hassan as the Israeli sat at the

control panel, his eyes not quite wide with any readable expression but

he missed nothing Hassan did.

 

Sikai Ole Sereb was the most relaxed of the three English speakers, more

like a curious kid having a special outing than the most senior of the

Maasai leaders.

 

"I think they were all so busy setting examples to each other, they

didn't have time to be afraid," Hassan told the Head Council that

evening when he reported the day's outing.  Kris, Zainal, and Kamiton

were among the group--so that Kamiton could be shown how the colony

governed itself.

 

Zainal translated in low tones, which did not disturb the others in the

big hangar office.  "They do understand about the night crawlers.  Last

night's demonstration certainly was dramatic and frightening enough.

They do want their own loo-cows, even if the creatures are ungrateful

enough not to give milk.  You know, we could import some cattle, or

goats and sheep.

 

They'd be useful for us to have."

 

"If you can find any," Beverly remarked.

 

"True but we can look.  A lot of Terran animals would do well here."

 

"Now, wait a minute," Beverly said, raising a big hand in caution, "we

have rocksquats which serve as good protein and supply us with quite a

few byproducts.  I can't promise we can do a Noah's ark bit:'

 

"We wouldn't know until too late;' Leon Dane said, "if Terran grazers or

browsers would survive on Botany...  not with night crawlers and those

avian terrors)'

 

"I agree.  We've got to go slowly.  We've got a lot here going for us

without wanting what might not be ecologically feasible," Beverly said.

 

"The Maasai will be grateful, I think," Yuri Palit said, "to be allowed

to live in their own ways on their own land, which was taken from them

back on Earth, and make the best of things as we've done, as they've

always had to do.  We did discuss the need to have shelters, built

either on stone--which isn't their way---or on platforms set high enough

above the ground and the reach of night crawlers, using steel plates on

the underside.  I wouldn't trust night crawlers not to eat wood if

something edible got spilled on it.  I think they'll opt for the

platforms.  It's a good even climate down there, edging into really hot

but Africa's like that, too. Each tribe will have its own com unit and I

think they've mastered calling in and taking messages.  But I think we

better check on a regular basis;'

 

"Once we know all the women are in good health.  Some of them are

expecting," Beverly said.  "There are only that gaggle of young boys and

five or six girls in their early teens who survived."

 

"Ah, and those boys bring up a minor problem which I think we'd better

solve as soon as possible;' Hassan said.  "Five of the teenagers are

about to go into training as warriors.  They are going to require some

of the ritual drugs.  Olkiloriti," and Hassan stumbled over the

unfamiliar word, "is one of them.  Joe Marley said that's only Acacia

nilotica, which is taken as a digestive excitant and to prevent hunger

and thirst on raids.  It's also said to prevent fatigue and fear:'

 

"Were they looking for it here?" Chuck asked.  "They seem to be

examining every single bush, shrub, and blade of grass)'

 

Hassan grinned.  "They're big on knowing the flora around them.  It's

how they've survived as long as they have--knowing what to take for

sickness and fever and how to keep wounds clean."

 

"Well, I suppose that we could import some of the acacia for them..."

 

Bull Fetterman began.  "If we can find any in their part of east

Africa;'

 

The roots must be clean, Leon Dane spoke up.  "Let's not importTer-ran

dirt or we might just import something we don't want growing wild on

Botany." As an Australian, Leon knew something of the problems

vegetation could cause when transplanted to a different ecology.

 

"Good point:'

 

"I've been showing them what we've been growing for medicinal use;' Leon

went on with a wide grin.  "And the old guy kept telling me everything

was good for some ailment and patted me on the back as if I'd done

something spectacular to have everything growing in one place;'

 

"You have," Bull said with one of his deep rumbling laughs.

 

"Indeed," Hassan said.  "They would have to travel many miles to get to

where certain bushes grow."

 

Just then Dick Aarens came rushing in, Pete Snyder trying to keep up

with the long-legged mechanic's stride and also reason with him.

 

"But I've got it!  I've got it," Dick said, beaming with

self-satisfaction.

 

He shrugged off Pete's final attempt to control him and spread his arms

wide in apology to those at the conference table.

 

"Hold it, Aarens, we're discussing another problem right now," Ray said.

 

"Can anything be more important than being able to see and hear outside

the Bubble?" Aarens demanded, head thrown back and chin high in

challenge.

 

Ducking her head and putting her hand to her brows, Kris shook her head

slowly at this latest display of Aarens' egotism.

 

"See and hear?" Ray repeated, glaring at Aarens.

 

"I don't know how such a simple thing could be missed:' And Aarens was

contemptuous.

 

"Then just how did you miss such a simple thing, Aarens?" asked Ray

Scott, leaning back in his chair, an absolutely blank expression on his

face.

 

Aarens frowned, knowing he was being ragged.

 

"You do leave yourself wide open, Dick," Pete said, shaking his head.

 

He leaned his hands on the table opposite Ray and explained.  "The Eosi

ship left all its com arrays stuck into the Bubble.  They haven't moved

in months.  I doubt they can, even if I don't know why the material

holds them in place.  But it does.  If Zainal or one of the NASA guys

can do an EVA, we can probably make connections on this side of the

Bubble and get to use the Eosi equipment to intercept messages and check

on who's visiting us.

 

We've got the spare parts we'd need, thanks to Zainal.  We can actually

put a com sat up there on our side of the Bubble:'

 

"You see," Aarens said, his lip lifted in a sort of supercilious

superiority.

 

"Simple thing and you missed it."

 

"We all missed it," Pete Snyder said, patiently but with an irritable

glance at Aarens.  "I'm not all that sure we'd get much filtered through

the Bubble, but certainly it's worth a try."

 

"It is;' Zainal said.  Then he grinned.  "I like it.  Using their arrays

to do our looking and listening."

 

"Save us a lot of fuel, too, as we wouldn't have to go make a check

before departure," Beverly said, chuckling.  "Which we will be doing a

lot of soon enough:'

 

"Do I ever get a chance to come along?" Aarens said, his jaw still stuck

out in belligerence.

 

Ray regarded him.  "Only if you can lose about five inches, Dick;' he

said in a deceptively genial tone.  "You're taller than either Zainal

and Kami-ton, and they say they're tall for Catteni."

 

"You've let Bert Put go, and he's nearly my height," Aarens went on,

angry and frustrated.

 

"He's a pilot, who stays on board and seated so no one checks his

height," Ray said.  "But if you want to go back to Earth--so long as you

.,remain on board the ship--it could be arranged.  We'll talk about it

again.

 

After...  we've got eyes and ears upstairs."

 

"Something for something, just like we were back on Earth," Aarens

muttered.

 

"Oh, come off it, Dick," Pete Snyder said, putting a hand on the tall

mechanic's back and gently urging him out of the hangar.

 

"That's a great idea, Aarens;' Beverly said and, taking their cue from

the ex-air force general, others murmured appropriate phrases.

"Sometimes it just takes the right eyes to see what can so easily be

missed."

 

"It may not work;' Aarens said as he slowly let himself be eased out of

hangar.  "I mean, we may not be able to get through the Bubble from this

side:'

 

"The idea remains a smart one even if it doesn't prove feasible;' Ray

said and then the door closed behind the two men.  Ray cleared his

throat.

 

"It certainly would be a help," John Beverly said.

 

"He's a damned good mechanic--a genius at some things;' Ray Scott said.

 

"But he's not a team player," was Bull Fetterman's assessment.

 

"Exactly;' and Ray sat forward at the table, shuffling notes.  "I

wouldn't trust him not to jump ship at the first chance.  Where were

we?"

 

"I think we just settled the Maasai for the time being," Yuri Palit said

and settled back in his chair.

 

"I suggest we see how fast Aarens can fix a connection to the array,"

Zainal said.  "I will help.  And so will Kamiton:'

 

"When we have that, the rest of what we were going to discuss tonight

will be easy enough.  So let's see if Aarens' idea works.  I think

this'll be all for tonight," Ray said and, placing his hands on the

table, pushed himself to his feet.  "Thank you, gentlemen, for your

reports and attention:'

 

A kOT OF JURY-RIGGING WAS NEEDED on the Bubble side of the Eosi array,

with both Zainal and Kamit6n working in space suits.  One of the NASA

communications personnel uneasy at doing an EVA finally solved the

problem of the connections.  They pulled and tugged at the material of

the Bubble until it was as thin as they could make it.  Then they rammed

into those frail holes the connecting linkages.  Dick Aarens had

wheedled himself on board with the communications crew and made such

obnoxious comments about how ineffective, stupid, fumble-fingered

everyone else was that Zainal shoved him into the spare space suit

Aarens had to crouch to fit and complained that the helmet was wearing

grooves in his skull---and closed the air lock behind them.  There were

those who wished that Zainal had not securely attached the safety line.

 

Aarens had known that he didn't like heights.  He'd screamed enough when

they had to haul him up to the command post to see what he could make of

the control panels.  He'd been so damned keen to say he'd been in space

in an EVA suit that he didn't realize that his height phobia would also

include vast, black open spaces where, in every direction, there was

nothing.

 

The other space walker had to push the rigid man back into the air lock.

 

"Take him inside.  He's useless."

 

But that incident happened early on.  The completed connections were

initially attached to the Baby's com array to see if they could actually

use the Eosi equipment through the thinned skin of the Bubble.  They

could.

 

And great cheering and congratulations resounded between Botany and

Baby.  The next step might take longer since a com sat had to be built

but Kamiton sampled the messages that were audible through the link and

smiled with great satisfaction at what he learned.

 

"We can proceed with our plan," he told Zainal in Catteni.  Then, in

thickly accented English, he added to the rest of the group on board who

did not know much Catteni, "Is good.  Works.  Hear good."

 

"I told you it would work;' Dick Aarens said, clinging to the door

frame, and still very pale from his disastrous EVA.  "So how soon can

you get this crate back down to Retreat?"

 

"Soon;' Zainal said and turned back to Kamiton, speaking in rapid

Catteni.  "We will leave on the KDL as soon as we return.  I want to get

back to Catten as fast as possible."

 

"Understood."

 

WHEN chris's NAME APPEARED on the list for KDL and a return to Catten,

she did some counting on her fingers.  Well, if they didn't have any

delays, she'd be back in time for Zane's first Botanical year birthday.

Zainal did not anticipate any delays with the plan he had filed with Ray

Scott.  He had been amused by the request from the ex-admiral but, with

the other ships also departing in opposite directions, he filled in the

data.

 

"Did I do it right?" he asked Kris, shoving the paper toward her across

the table in their main room.

 

"You'd better have," Kris said with mock threat, "or you're no

advertisement for my teaching."

 

He printed in bold letters, using both capitals and lower case as

required.

 

But he spelled properly and, even if he used short sentences, they were

correctly phrased.

 

"You get an A."

 

"Just an A?" he said, pretending to be disappointed.

 

"Oh, that's the best you can do;'

 

"Oh?" and he leaned across the table and neatly lifted her out of her

chair and high enough so that, when she bent her knees, she cleared the

surface.

 

"!  must lesson you, too, to see if you can achieve the A:'

 

Zane was long since asleep, so they could indulge in the intimacies that

would be impossible for the duration of the trip.

 

"!  hope to bring out my sons," Zainal said, when they lay side by side,

mutually satisfied.  "You must not treat them--at first--as you would a

Human child;'

 

"How old are they?"

 

"They are nine and seven."

 

"Same mother?"

 

"No.  Good Catteni blood in each."

 

"They will have a lot to learn, won't they?" And, while in one sense

Kris felt able to accept the challenge, she hoped she would be able to

meet it.  Another aspect of it was that Zainal would trust her with his

own children.

 

How badly would they have been treated because Zainal had failed to

accept the family's obligation to present himself as Eosi "chosen"?

 

"We all have a lot to learn," Zainal said and, pressing his face against

hers, turned her over so they could sleep, spoon fashion, his heavy arm

warmly against her.

 

"Now COMES ThE FuN PArT," Zainal said to the crew of the KDL, all

assembled on the bridge.  They were orbiting in to one of the most

desolate-looking planets: how could anything, or anyone, live down

there?

 

They had first let Kamiton off at the asteroid belt and lingered long

enough to hear him report that the spy sats he had released in the belt

confirmed the fact that there had been quite a few ships poking around

the field: more likely, for traces of where Zainal/Venlik might have

stored the remainder of his cargo.

 

Kamiton would then proceed back to Catten with the report that he had

found no suitable planets in the three systems he was supposedly

exploring.

 

He would have the opportunity to get in touch with any of the other

dissidents and assure them that Zainal's refuge was invulnerable.  He

would also visit Perizec, Zainal's father, and, hopefully, locate the

whereabouts of Zainal's two sons.  Since the family had supplied so many

"chosen," they had acquired many assets on the planet.  The two young

males could be anywhere.

 

With a purloined cargo, Zainal would arrive.  This time they would have

to dock at the space station.

 

"It will be easier for you as the station is not on full Catten

gravity," he had told Kris who had not been looking forward to a second

period of feeling more like a piece of compressed stone than a human

being.  "But you may not leave the ship.  You are not Catten enough;'

and he had tousled her cropped re-dyed hair.

 

The rest of the crew was the same.  Gino, Ninety, and Mack Dargle had

learned to speak, and understand, much more Catteni.  Kamiton even

taught them a few so-called Catteni jokes which, when translated, left

the audience wondering what possibly could be funny about them.

 

"Old slap-stick routines is what they remind me of;' Kris said.  "Sort

of Marx brothers without any of the same class.  More like the Three

Stooges:'

 

"They were never as good as the Marx brothers," Ninety said.

 

"Speak Catteni," Zainal said, scowling at all of them.

 

"Does not translate;' Kris said with mock obedience in a very deep

rasping Catteni voice.

 

WITH-tHE KDL BEARING THE ID OF A SHIP, which Kamiton had found, its

forward section embedded in an asteroid it hadn't been able to avoid,

they orbited the desolate planet and made contact with the mining

station.  This was a huge, scarred globule planted like a ravaged

blister on one of the main raised areas.  This particular station had

been chosen because it had no processing plant in which to refine the

ore.  So their purloined cargo would match Zainal's story of finding

such ores in an asteroid belt.  Once this planet had evidently had

oceans that some unimaginable catastrophe had drained or boiled away.

There were other, smaller blisters set in deep ranges of what had once

been ocean trenches.  As they were given clearance and descended, they

could see heavy vehicles drawing numerous, and immense, carts of ore

toward the main depot, for that was what Kris decided it must be.

 

Several such vehicles were already drawing into parallel lines by the

facility, which Zainal said was where the cargo levels would

automatically be loaded.

 

"By what?" Ninety said.  "We don't have enough space suits..."

 

Zainal grinned and held up his hands.  "That is why there are space

locks between the main compartments of the ship and the cargo area.  The

K-class is a versatile carrier, cargo, slaves, whatever."

 

There was a bit of a scene when the station Drassi wanted Zainal to take

on board three Catteni who had been so seriously injured they were no

longer any use to him.  All this while the ramps from the loading

platform were being extended through the KDL's open cargo bay, and while

Ninety, suited up, handled the controls.

 

"As soon as the decks are full, Ninety, we're taking off," Zainal told

Ninety.  "So be sure to hang on to something the moment we're full."

 

"I hear and obey, Drassi," Doyle said, slapping one fist to his chest in

a Catteni salute.

 

"Won't you get into trouble?" Gino asked nervously.

 

"Just plot a rapid ascent.  This station has no weapons," Zainal assured

him.

 

"But can you just refuse to take injured men aboard?" Gino asked.

 

"Not for a two-week journey back to Catteni with them on board," Zainal

said.  "This station has frequent cargo ships in.  The next one can take

them.  I won't."

 

So, when Ninety signaled that all four cargo levels were full, Zainal

gave Gino the nod to lift just as three space-suited figures, two

helping the third who did not seem to have legs, exited from the surface

loading facility.

 

Zainal reached over and shut off the com board, silencing the threats of

the infuriated Emassi in charge of the mining operations.

 

"We couldn't afford the risk;' Zainal said, aware of the shocked look on

the faces of his crew.

 

WHEN THEY WERE AGAIN IN SPACE, Zainal and Ninety who had come to enjoy

such EVA outings, changed the ID symbols on the KDL's hull to match

those used in their first trip to Catten.  Once more in communication

with the immense Catteni Space Station, Zainal became Drassi Venlik

again, cheerfully (for a Catteni) back with the ore he had to leave

behind in the asteroid belt.

 

There were some scary moments for Kris, however, when the space station

sent officials on board to see if the KDL's cargo should be unloaded

into drones for transport to the surface or allow the ship to land at

the manufactories needing the ore.  The rest of this trip depended on

Zainal being ordered to make planetary delivery.  One of the officials

seemed determined to figure out the site of this rich load.

 

"It is my site.  By right;' Drassi Venlik said, standing with legs

parted in a fighting stance, hands at his sides.  This semi-belligerent

posture was not lost on the officials, even if they were Emassi.

 

Finally they admitted that they had orders for his ship to land on the

surface at the refining plant awaiting these very fine metals.  Zainal

and his crew saluted the officials off the KDL and received immediate

clearance from the facility and the location of the refinery.

 

"Couldn't have been better if I'd cut the orders myself," Zainal said in

English, grinning at his success.

 

"Yeah," Ninety began skeptically, "but would you really have laid into

the Emassi?"

 

Zainal laughed.  "There are many Drassi who are Emassi who did not pass

Eosi standards to be chosen.  They have family who would come to their

assistance.  Those station Emassi know only what they need to know," and

he dismissed them with a contemptuous flick of his fingers.

 

Kris decided that Zainal became more Cattenish the nearer he got to his

natal planet.  She wasn't sure she liked that change in him.  Then they

landed and the weight of Catten gravity pulled her down, until she felt

her belly would end up near her knees.  And ordinarily her stomach was

as flat as Zainal's.  It had a decided bulge to it right now.

 

She spent the hours the KDL was being unloaded on her bunk, on Zainal's

order, being "off-duty" as the corridors swarmed with Rassi and Drassi.

Zainal, with Chuck and Ninety in full Catteni dress, eyes, and hair,

went to the refinery office to complete the forms required and get the

credit voucher for the ore.

 

It was evidently most unusual for a cargo vessel to require a credit

voucher, but Zainal had a story ready for that.  They needed special

equipment to mine the ores on this asteroid and had been given

permission to make such purchases, but would have to show a current

voucher to verify that the ship's account would stand the expense.

 

"THAT DEPOT'S LIKE ALl BABA'S CAVE," Ninety said, returning after the

first day's scrounging through the supply warehouse.  "Mind you, a lot

of the stuff was made on Earth," he added in a sour tone.  "But I

located most of what the com sat boys ordered."

 

With great determination, Kris had made a huge stew of the meat Coo and

Pess had gone out to the nearest marketplace to get for her.  It had

taken almost all the energy she could muster with the constant pull of

gravity on her muscles and bones.  She was sure she'd shrink: she

certainly felt compressed.

 

Zainal did not return that first night.  The Catteni diurnal cycle was

only an hour longer than Earth's but, to Kris' intense relief, he was

back just past dawn the next morning with Kamiton and two other Catteni

making a surreptitious dart up the ramp of the open cargo bay.

 

The men were introduced as Nitin and Kasturi.  Bolemb could not leave as

yet andTubelin was going to bring Zainal's two boys as soon as the ship

was ready to take off again.  For Catteni they exuded enthusiasm for the

chance to relieve their world of Eosian domination.  To believe that

Zainal's crew was really Human, every one, including Kris, had to take

out their yellow lenses and show the natural shade of skin on their

upper arms and legs.  Kris was on watch at that moment and thus did not

have to reveal her subtly different limbs.

 

Nitin looked older than Kasturi but later Zainal told her it was the

other way round.  Nitin had had harder duties than Kasturi, and so

looked his years of service to ungrateful Eosi.  Nitin said little but

Kamiton's exuberance made up for his silence.

 

The next day the three real Catteni assumed other identities and went

about acquiring more of the material that was on the shopping list. Nor,

to the Humans' surprise, did they question that they had to buy such odd

items in unusual quantities: like the huge iron kettles (which were used

by the Rassi to cook their mashes in--about the only thing, Nitin said,

that they could manage to do without constant supervision). The kettles

were destined for the Maasai who were much, much smarter than most of

the Drassi Kris had encountered.  She stood her shifts on the com desk

and had to deal with the calls of merchants who wished to check on the

ship's account and its current position.  She had also managed not to

reveal her femininity to new members of the Catteni.  If Zainal did not

think to men· tion it, she would not.

 

The KDL had been parked to the side of the refinery's double-ballpark of

a landing site to allow other vessels to unload.  Zainal had neatly

maneuvered them close to one of the refinery's secondary gates, to allow

access for his "equipment" to arrive without upsetting the regular

traffic in and out.

 

"It's a good place to be," Zainal had said in explanation.  "Many ships

come and go.  It is also the last place where any Emassis would be

found."

 

With their cargo levels full, they waited for word from Kasturi.

Kami-ton fretted more than Zainal did and paced up and down the

corridors, cursing at the com unit which did not utter so much as a

burp.  They waited two full days, until Zainal, too, showed signs of

stress.

 

Both men were on the bridge when a low, sputtering ground vehicle came

through the gates and trundled around behind the KDL.

 

"It has stopped," Chuck said, swiveling around in his seat at the com

board.  He flicked on the exterior camera.  "Three, two smallish, one

not so small."

 

Instantly Zainal and Kamiton were on their feet and pounding down the

passageway to the cargo air lock.

 

"Prepare to take off," Zainal called over his shoulder, and Gino hastily

started the pre-flight checks as he had done from time to time as

something to occupy them during the long wait.  "And turn the ship

slightly to starboard to incinerate the vehicle." That came through over

the intercom from the cargo level.

 

"Right ch'are, captain," Gino muttered, fingers busy tapping in the

necessary code and engaging the rear thrusters to be certain the object

was reduced to an unrecognizable lump.

 

As they were at the refinery, their leaving would go relatively

unnoticed.

 

They lifted and were well above the atmospheric envelope of Catteni

before Zainal and Kamiton came forward, both grinning broadly.

 

"We got them," Kamiton said as Zainal motioned for Gino to move out of

the pilot's chair.  Kamiton oddly enough dressed in a space suit, and

carrying his helmet, positioned himself against the bulwark.

 

So as not to be seen, Kris thought, when Zainal had to make visual

contact with the space station for clearance out of Catteni space.  But

why was he suited up?

 

"I'm parked right by net four," Kamiton said as if he had heard her

mental query.  "Head slightly in that direction now."

 

Contact was made, clearance was given, and Zainal said that he was going

back for another load of the fine ores he had carved out of the space

debris.

 

"Of course, they'll come after you again," Kamiton said.  "See you back

on Botany;' he added before he put on his helmet and stumped down to the

air lock.  "Can you read me?" he asked a few moments later.

 

Kris stuck her finger harder than she needed to on the pad--her body

didn't realize she was out of Catteni's depressing gravity--and gave him

an affirmative.

 

Zainal made a small adjustment to his direction, seeming to head

directly for the center of net four--large Catteni glyphs had been

plastered on the net fabric--one could not miss "4" unless one was

totally blind.  He also slowed so that when the air lock lights came on,

he was almost stationary.

 

He allowed the KDL to drift a count of two hundred, because Kris was

counting right along with him, before he gently teengaged the thrusters

and pulled away.  Then he made a drastic course alteration and signaled

to Gino to pour on the power.

 

There was a little time for Tubelin to meet the Human crew and for Bazil

and Peran to get accustomed to the idea of Humans, and Humans who could

speak their language and were not slaves.  Kris almost wept at the

condition of the two boys: they had come on board filthy, in clothing

that was a shred away from being indecent, with many bruises on their

limbs and visible through the remaining scraps of their tunics.  Their

ribs were showing and their faces had the gaunt look of the starved.

What they asked Zainal for first--once they had recognized their

father--was water.

 

"They wouldn't take anything from me;' Tubelin explained.  "They did not

show fright, Zainal.  They have your blood and courage.  In my opinion,

many cruel and vicious things have been done to them."

 

Zainal himself bathed the boys, carefully tending their hurts and

seeming to count every healed scar.  Kris handed him Botanical

medications, and they had flinched, even from their father's very gentle

touch.  She was close to tears for how they had been treated...  worse

than even the Rassi she had seen so casually whipped to work.

 

All the time Zainal spoke softly to them, not gently, not as he would

speak to Zane, but as an adult would speak firmly and reassuringly to a

frightened animal.

 

Tubelin put his head around the door and both boys stiffened, their

yellow eyes dark and wide with the fright of surprise, which his

unexpected appearance provoked before they could conceal their reaction.

Once they recognized Kamiton, they relaxed a little.

 

"I have clean clothes, Zainal.  I'll space those rags if you'll hand

them to me, Kris;' She did, holding the mess by the tips of her fingers

and letting them all fall into the receptacle Kamiton offered.

 

"Have you any clear soup to give them, and perhaps some journey bread,"

Zainal said as he gently pushed the boys ahead of him toward the galley.

Coo and Pess were alone at the table but the boys merely glanced through

them, as if the two Deski did not exist.

 

Well, Kris told herself sternly, they've probably been taught that Deski

are little better than Rassi.

 

When Coo and Pess made to rise, Zainal gestured for them to remain where

they were.  Someone had already put some clear soup in the heater so all

she had to do was pour it in cups and get out the travel bread.  Zainal

raised one finger to show he'd have some, too.  Lord, those kids were

messed up bad, Kris thought.  How will we ever get through what they

have been conditioned to expect?  Or, having been roughed up so much,

would they rough up her son?

 

Zainal sat opposite the boys, beside Pess, and dipped the bread into the

soup, blowing on it to cool it.  The boys did nothing, though Kris saw

the tongue of the older boy, Bazil, protrude slightly between his

cracked lips.

 

Then Zainal put his bread first in Bazil's cup and then Peran's before

he ate it as if to prove it was not only edible, but harmless.

 

"Eat.  You need food.  This is good."

 

Peran, being the younger, could not contain his hunger at that

invitation and nearly burned his tongue to get the bread into his mouth.

Bazil gave him an almost contemptuous sneer, but he was no less quick to

take his first bite.

 

When they had finished their meal, although their eyes darted back to

the heater unit, which they knew still had soup in it, they waited.

Peran's lids wearily descended over his eyes, but he shot bolt upright

again as soon as Bazil pinched him.

 

"No more now, Bazil," Zainal said in a neutral tone.  "You need sleep,

too.  There will be more soup when you awaken.  That I promise!" Zainal

rose and, still not offering them his hands as he would certainly have

of-feted one to Zane, he pointed the way for them to go.

 

Coo leaned across the table and patted Kris' hands; Pess offered a

square of fabric when she started to sniff and then to cry.

 

"Being Emassi not easy;' Coo said.

 

When Pess' thin arm came about her shoulders, Kris just leaned into the

female's embrace and let the tears flow.  She didn't even care if one of

the other Catteni came in and saw her weeping.

 

So, by the time Zainal returned, she was over the worst of it.  He knew

she had been crying because her eyes always turned red.

 

"They have suffered much," Zainal said.  "That shall be considered when

this is ended." He reached for the Hooch bottle and poured himself a

large tumbler full, taking a big gulp of it.

 

"Tubelm is a good Emassi but even he did not like what he saw when he

visited the farm where they had been made to work like Rassi:'

 

"Is that why they were so dirty?" Kris heard herself asking with great

indignation.  "But why were they beaten?  They're seven and nine?

They've been starved, too:'

 

Zainal took the hand she was waving about in consternation and clasped

it firmly.

 

"I had not thought Perizec capable but it may have been the idea of my

brother's mate.  She is such a good Catteni mate;' and his emphasis on

"good" was sarcastic.  "It will take longer than it should but they will

learn much on Botany and want to know more:'

 

THEY FOLLOWED THE TORTUOUS COURSE into the maze of their infamous and

rich asteroid belt and once again, while Nitin, Kasturi, Tube lin, and

Zainal's two sons watched with varying degrees of consternation during

the twisting route, made contact with Kamiton at his hollowed-out

asteroid.

 

Then Zainal poured on all the power at the KDL'S disposal on the way

back to Botany.

 

The two boys did not speak unless spoken to, and Tubelin, whom they knew

almost better than their father, would tell them stories in a decidedly

avuncular and uncharacteristic manner.  Zainal put them on a feeding

schedule of every two and a half hours, each time little meals until

their cheeks began to fill out and flesh appeared over their ribs.  He

also taught them how to print their names in Catteni glyphs and then in

English letters.  What astonished Kris was their absolute obedience.

 

"It's been beaten into them to obey without questions, Kris," Ninety

said when she voiced her distress to the Humans.  "We'll just be sure

they never hear another discouraging word on Botany, that's all."

 

Chuck tilted his head sideways.  "I've seen whipped puppies a time or

two.  It's going to take a lot of patience to make that a happy pair

again."

 

"If they ever were," Kris said glumly.  "I don't think Catteni have

happy childhoods.  Or expect to."

 

"Now, Bjornsen," and Chuck Milford patted her shoulder, "we'll all

help."

 

And so he contrived to make a checkerboard from a bit of stiff packing

casing, coloring it in, and then neatly scissoring out the counters from

another piece.

 

"What makes you think Catteni kids play games?" Gino asked when he saw

the finished product.

 

"Ah, a zemgo board," Kamiton exclaimed in surprise as he entered the

mess room.

 

"What makes you think there wouldn't be something similar in such a

warlike culture, Gino?" Chuck demanded, grinning at Kamiton.  "Will

Bazil and Peran know how to play...  zemgo?" he asked in Catteni.

 

"Hmm.  I shall soon find out.  Or will you teach them since you made the

board?"

 

"It might be good if I teach, and you tell them the moves at first,"

Chuck said.  "I wouldn't know the right words and they should learn the

proper words."

 

"I will return with them.  A good idea, Sshuk," Kamiton said and went to

find the boys.

 

"They were on the bridge, standing watch with their father," Kamiton

said when he returned with them.  He pointed at Bazil to sit at one side

of the table next to Chuck and Peran to sit on the other.  Then he sat

beside Peran and asked if the boys knew the game.

 

Bazil managed the barest of negative head shakes.  Peran just stared at

the bright colors of the board and the round white counters on his side.

 

"This is a good game for Catteni to know," Kamiton explained.  "It

teaches how to form your troops for battle and how to win against an

equally matched opponent.  You are white, Peran, you must start first."

 

Peran kept his hands in his lap, his little body stiff with indecision.

 

"Why don't we play, Kamiton?" Chuck suggested.

 

"He is Emassi," muttered Bazil, glaring up at Chuck.

 

"So he is;' Chuck said, amiably.  "And so am I."

 

Bazil darted a surprised look at Kamiton and received a confirmatory

nod.  Bazil sank in on himself in dismay.

 

"All on this ship are Emassi," Kamiton said.

 

"Even the little one?" Bazil asked, his dull yellow eyes flickering with

doubt.  But his tone was more courteous.

 

"All," Kamiton said.

 

"So we shall play, Emassi Kamiton?" Chuck asked as demurely as only a

sergeant of marines could.

 

"Yes, let us show Bazil and Peran how this ancient game is played,

Emassi Sshuk:'

 

THE TWO BOYS WATCHED Chuck and Kamiton play four games (ending in two

wins each), every time explaining the moves and discussing the game so

the boys would know why.  Then Gino played Chuck and won, but when he

played Kamiton, the Catteni won.  The boys showed the first spark of

interest.  It wasn't until Zainal entered the room and saw that the boys

only watched, making no move to play at all, that he pointed to the

board and said in a hard voice: "Play!  Need to know!"

 

He left the room and Kris followed, furious with his so-Catteni manner

that she almost couldn't speak as she dragged him into the captain's

quarters.  She slid the panel shut and told him off, madder than she had

ever thought she could be with him.

 

"Those boys have been so mistreated," she railed at him, "could you not

show a little give?

 

He listened, with his Catteni face.

 

"I've never seen such bruises, nor such constant brutality on boys so

young.  What were your folk doing to them?  Systemically brutalizing

them as punishment for what you did?"

 

"Yes." And his quiet reply, and the sad look in his eyes, silenced her.

 

"Then why aren't you, their father, from whom they can expect some

affection..."

 

He held up one hand.  "Catteni fathers are not affectionate:'

 

"But you are with Zane!" She was flabbergasted.  "How can you

differentiate like that?  All three are children and need love and

kindness and care .  .  ." And when he opened his mouth to speak, she

advanced on him so infuriated that he recoiled slightly, not trying to

evade the hard finger she poked into his chest as emphasis to her words.

"And don't tell me Catteni children cannot expect such treatment, too."

 

"From their mothers, not from their fathers."

 

"And, I suppose, now you'll tell me that Bazil and Peran are too old to

be with their mothers." When he nodded, she made a sound of total

disgust and frustration.  She was so mad she couldn't think of what to

say next.  "If you ever...  ever...  take a Catteni line with Zane,

I'll...  I'll kill you!"

 

"Or Pete Easley will," Zainal replied calmly.  Mad as she was, she could

see the shadows in his eyes.  He might have expected the treatment his

sons had received, but that didn't mean he liked it.

 

"Oh, God, Zainal, why am I angry at you?" And she put her arms around

him in apology and returned affection.

 

Hesitantly, she felt, with great relief, his big hands gripping her

shoulders, pressing a response to her expression of regret.

 

"We must treat them for now--as Catteni boys are reared, and gradually,

when they have settled, teach them that there are other ways, and that

they may learn whatever they want, not just what they 'need to know: I

want them to be more Human, too."

 

"Well, that's better;' she said, sniffing back the tears that pricked

her eyes: tears of frustration and relief.  "I couldn't stand it if you

turned all Catteni on me suddenly.  And if you ever..." She raised her

finger threat-eningly.

 

"Zane is Human.  He is your son and I will always treat him as I see

Human children treated:'

 

"When in Rome...  huh?"

 

He repeated the phrase without comprehension.

 

"Oh, I'll explain later, Zainal." And she cupped a hand on his head.

 

"Must we all be hard with the boys?"

 

"For now.  We must give them the orders they need to know..." And a

ghost of a smile pulled at his finely shaped lips.  "To make them sure

of how to act and what to do.  But we will be fair, where others have

not.  And, if we can get them to play zemgo, it will help.  And if you

are not as firm as we are, they will not respect you.  And they must for

they will find out that you are a woman and therefore, now that they are

becoming adult, they will need to see you as a being who commands

respect, too."

 

She leaned against him, accepting the burden of such an

uncharacter-istic manner for her.

 

"Am !  not a warrior already, being on this ship?"

 

"Reinforce that as often as possible, for when we reach Botany, they

will see that you are also a woman and a mother.  And wonder;'

 

"They'll have an awful lot to learn on Botany;' she said, ruefully.

 

"They will have the need to know;' Zainal answered, a lilt of rueful

laughter in his voice.

 

"So, if I preface remarks with 'you need to know this,' it will be all

right?"

 

"They'll...  how do you say it...  catch on quickly.  Neither is

stupid."

 

"Of course.  They're your sons."

 

CHUCK HAD CAUGHT ON to Zainal's method of treating his sons.

 

Which must have been easiest for Mitford, Kris thought, having had to

train recruits in the marines.  Gino, whose Italian background was

totally at odds with Catteni child rearing, had to be talked into

playing it Zainal's way.  Coo and Pess had no problem, and Mack Dargle

taught them how to carve things out of pieces of wood and how to

assemble useful equipment.

 

They knew how to handle knives but returned the blade immediately after

they had finished their turn with it.  They liked the assembling best,

though, and their fingers were quick once they'd been shown how the

first time.

 

The other Catteni ignored them, save for Kamiton who kept trying to get

Bazil to make moves against his counters on the board.

 

When they were within the Botany system, all stations were on the alert

for any possible Eosi presence.

 

"The work on the moon base has stopped," Zainal observed.

 

"They were sent the useless materials," Nitin said with a wry

expression.

 

"My contribution.  They will be stopped for some time as the regular

shipments have also been diverted.  They may even run out of oxygen and

water."

 

Kris' sense of fair play was assaulted by such doings, and she had to

keep her mouth shut.  Catteni could deal with Catteni as they wished...

 

just so long as Botany was safe from their methods and ethics.

 

THEY ENTERED THE BUBBLE on the equatorial line, just out of the range of

the geo-sync satellite.  Prior to that they had spotted a distant "V"

formation of Catteni ships headed directly toward Botany.

 

"See if we can get through to Retreat," Zainal asked Gino who was

sitting at the com controls.

 

"Oh, you're back, are you?" said a female voice.  The visual was not

clear so only a hazy picture came through the thinned Bubble material.

The voice sounded slightly filtered but intelligible.

 

"Who's this?" Gino asked.

 

"Jane O'Hanlon, here.  Now we can use the array, someone has to man the

com desk all the time.  Or woman it as the case is today.  Gino

Marrucci, right?"

 

"Right:'

 

Fortunately only Kamiton, of the five Catteni on the bridge just then,

had enough English to catch some of the words he knew.  But the other

four exchanged surprised looks that a female had answered.

 

"Did you get what you went after?"

 

"We did but there 'are some boogies..  :'

 

"We're expecting them.  Baby returned last week with her piggyback

G-class ship to warn us of the traffic to come.  She may have to go back

and lead some through the Bubble.  You may be needed, too, as the other

K's are still wandering around;'

 

"How many ships were hijacked this time?" Zainal asked, frowning

slightly.  He was still nervous, despite assurances from Kamiton, Nitin,

Tubelin, and Kasturi that, with due care, the disappearance of the ships

would not be immediately noticed.

 

"Catteni ships are all over the galaxy and some never come back,"

Kamiton had said repeatedly, waving his hand indifferently at such

losses.

 

"It works to our advantage.  We must have enough to be able to strike at

Eosi before they know that death approaches;'

 

Since that was not the strategy which Ray and the other head council

members were advocating, no one on board contradicted Kamiton, not even

Zainal.

 

"There are three G-class coming back from one of the other colonies

where Terrans were dropped.  The K's are coming back with supplies and

equipment and only a few refugees."

 

"If the G-class are full;' Zainal said, "we will be very busy."

 

"Preparations are being made," Jane said, "and Ray Scott is thinking of

the closed valleys as safe interim sites.  With the K's coming back with

food and equipment, what we have won't be spread so thin."

 

Zainal nodded, occupied with slowing the forward speed of the KDL so

that it could gently nudge its way through the Bubble.  Immediately the

picture of Jane's duty station cleared up.

 

"That's better," she said, smiling and then caught sight of the four

Cat-teni just visible behind Zainal.  "Ah, we have guests," and she

added in good Catteni, "welcome to Botany, Emassi."

 

"How does she know we are Emassi?" Nitin asked, as if slightly offended

by being addressed as an equal by a woman.

 

"Why would I inflict Drassi on Botany?" Zainal asked.  "The ones we have

are more than enough:'

 

"The ones you have?" asked Nitin, surprised.

 

"The crews of the ships we have captured have been placed in an isolated

area."

 

"You did not kill them?" Nitin frowned.

 

"And ruin Catteni uniforms when we needed them?" Gino asked, though

there was an edge to his question.

 

"Those who disobeyed died," Zainal said in a tone that did not leave any

need for further questions.

 

Chapter Eight.

 

BIG AS THE FARMERS' HANGAR.  WAS, IT could no longer accommodate the

"fleet" Botanists were assembling.  Jane informed them that they could

unload there, but might have to take some of their supplies to other

locations, thus cutting down on the transportation problems.

 

"We need more ground vehicles with heavy load capacities.  Doesn't do

any good to steal trucks from Earth because we have no gasoline or

diesel here.  So you'll have to do the transporting.

 

You don't happen to have a list of your cargo, do you?  Then we can

figure out where else to send you."

 

"It's in Catteni," Zainal said with a chuckle.

 

"Okay, then Sally Stoffers will be supercargo;' Jane replied.  "Send it

down and safe landing."

 

And it was.  Immediately the stevedore contingent and several of the

large flatbeds, plus a forklift which had been "acquired," surrounded

the KDL.  There was only so much gasoline available for it so the

engineers would have to convert it to solar power.  Aarens and Pete

Snyder were there since Zainal had indeed brought back some of the

elements needed by the engineering group.  Sally Stoffers was acting as

supercargo with two assistants to check off what was to be off-loaded as

she translated the manifests from Catteni.

 

She smiled a greeting at the three new Catteni and added Kamitoffs name

to her general welcome.  Then she saw the two boys, looking in much

better condition landing than they had in boarding.  But Kamiton

signaled to her to ignore them: a signal she obeyed.

 

"Zainal says medic for these.  We walk."

 

Ray Scott came hurrying out of his office and took charge of Nitin,

Tubel/n, and Kasturi.

 

"Whose are those?" Sally asked when Kris made her way down the

gangplank, avoiding those carrying some of the lighter cargo.

 

"Zainal's," Kris said, "and we have to treat them as Catteni boys are

treated." She gave Sally a sour grimace.

 

"What?  On Botany?  Bring up another generation like the one we're

trying to educate in new ways?" Sally was indignant.

 

"To begin with at least," Kris said with a sigh.  "You should have seen

the state they were in when Kasturi brought them aboard?

 

"'The sins of the father' sort of stuff?" Sally asked, perceptive as

ever.

 

"In spades," and she broke off, hearing Zainal's familiar step on the

cargo ramp.

 

Zainal looked around and spotted Karoitoh, on his way to the infirmary

with the boys following a discreet two steps behind him, and nodded.

 

He gave Kris a squeeze on the arm but one that subtly suggested that she

should not accompany him, and went to join Ray Scott and the new

Cat-ten/recruits.

 

She struggled with an uneasy resentment and won.

 

"D'you have any questions, Sally?  Chuck and Mack marked much of the

stuff with English subtitles, as it were, during the return.  I can help

if you need me," she said.

 

"Nonsense, girl, go soak somewhere and come back looking completely

Human.  Here," and she handed over a com unit, 'Tve a spare.  If I need

you, I'll contact you."

 

All the Humans on the KDL had removed their yellow lenses as soon as

they were safely out of Catteni space: that had been surprise enough for

the newcomers.  As the supply of water was limited, no one was able to

wash the Catteni gray off from more than their hands.

 

KRIS WOULD HAVE RATHER GONE WITH KAMITON and the two boys to see what

their general physical condition was but Zainal had vetoed that.  There

didn't happen to be any children the ages of Bazil and Peran on Botany,

so Kris wondered how on earth the two could be integrated with a peer

group.

 

Zainal solved the problem and took his sons down to the Maasai

encampment.

 

"They are warriors.  They have boys the right ages.  They will learn

Ter-ran ways."

 

"Not in a Maasai camp;' Kris objected vehemently.

 

"Why not?" ZainaI was surprised, believing he had made a good decision.

 

"Because they treat their women the same way Catteni do.  I mean, they

practically starve a pregnant woman so she'll have a small baby and no

problem delivering."

 

That part of the Maasai culture had been a shock to most of the medical

staff for several of the Maasai women were in the last trimester of

pregnancy.  How the embryos had survived the trip was a matter of

considerable speculation at the infirmary.  All the women tested had

been anemic and undernourished.  With some skilful diplomacy on Hassans

part, he managed to get the Maasai leaders to allow the women normal

pregnancy multi-vitamins on the grounds that they would not have the

usual herbal digestive medications.  These would replace what the women

were used to using.  Hassan insisted that the tablets contained no milk,

which was a taboo for Maasai pregnant women.  That the multi-vitamin

contained calcium as well as trace elements was not mentioned.

 

Kris canceled a half-formed mention of the other extreme racial

differences.

 

There were boys the right ages.  The Maasai were warriors, even if they

used only spears, and their height would ensure the boys respected them.

 

"But they won't learn English;' was the only other protest she could

summon.

 

"Not now.  That will come.  When there are males their ages here in

Botany."

 

They were his children.  She had no right to tell him where to send them

or how to raise them.  The Maasai at least would be fair to the poor

waifs.  Which was a distinct improvement.

 

The boys were kept overnight at the infirmary in a separate room.

 

They both had intestinal parasites, which could not be spread on Botany.

 

"Considering they have been half-starved for a number of months, they're

sturdy boys," Leon reported to Zainal.  "At least the Maasai are also

eating well now and that can only improve the general health;'

 

If Leon did not concur with Zainal's disposition of his sons to the

Maasai, he said nothing to that point.  He did mention that word had

reached him from one of the incoming ships that Joe Marley had managed

to secure a fair number of the plants the Maasai considered essential,

including the olkiloriti though he could give no reassurance that they

would survive on Botany.  The boys could go on the transport with the

plants when they arrived.

 

"I will go with them, too," Zainal said.

 

As such matters sometimes work out, it was Kasturi who took them as

Zainal was needed to pilot Baby which, with the two K-class ships that

had already been "accepted" by the Bubble, was needed to get the G-class

ships past it.  But Zainal delayed his flight long enough to give

instructions to his sons.

 

"You are going to a warrior camp to train with your age group as befits

your rank," he told them in Catteni.  "They are different folk but known

for courage and (a word which Kris did not recognize.)  But you will

consider them Emassi as I am, and you are.  You will learn from them as

you need to know their ways, too."

 

Small bruised fists hit cleanly clothed chests in the Catteni farewell

gesture and, without a backward glance, Bazil and Peran boarded the

float and sat among the various bushes, shrubs, grasses, and two

saplings in their plastic-covered cans of hydroponic solutions.  They

each wore a replica of Zainal's Catteni face.

 

One day, Kris promised herself, they would learn to smile and use

expressions instead of those awful alien deadpans.

 

GETTING THE G-SHIPS THROUGH took all the available Botany fleet to bring

them into Botany space.

 

"We sandwiched them in," Gino said when he returned.  "Even then, we had

to push the stuffing well back of the bread.  That Bubble doesn't fool

easy."

 

"What happens when we want to get them out again?" Bert Put asked.

 

He'd been piloting one of the G's and privately confessed that he

thought he'd never get home.  It was his ship which had brought back the

Maasai plants as well as others: roots steam cleaned and tested to be

certain they brought in no Terran parasites.  Seed as well had been

irradiated to ensure purity as a much more varied diet was needed,

especially the complex proteins.

 

Rocksquats bred fast but not as fast as the population of Botany was

growing.  Loo-cows produced one calf at the height of the Botanical

summer.

 

The actual birth took place in a tight, deep circle of other loo-cows,

all tramping round and round the female to deter nightcrawlers reaching

the newborn, attracted by the bodily fluids also exuded by the birthing

female.

 

The wonder was that the newborn was not inadvertently stamped to death

before it could get to its six wobbly legs.

 

Not so many refugees had been accommodated on the G-ships, but some

families of those of the First Drop had been located and there were

happy reunions, as well as tearful ones for those relations who had not

been found.

 

There was a celebration for the placement of the permanent Botany com

sat when it was connected to the inner arrays.  The NASA folk had

managed to jury-rig one to serve in the interim.

 

The infirmary, which now had satellite clinics dotting the continent,

had received much needed diagnostic equipment, an ex-ray machine, and

generators large enough to power them.  And sufficient oil and gasoline

to run them.  (Empty barrels were then recycled as anti-night crawler

defenses and the bases for stilt homes.)

 

Nitin, Tubelin, and Kasturi began to learn enough English to respond to

greetings.  They would not conduct meetings with the Head Council in

anything but Catteni.  Kris often sat in as translator, so did Chuck

Mitford, Mack, and Ninety.  Their trips had at least improved vocabulary

and usage.

 

Though there were a few phrases which none of the men would translate

for Kris.  She decided they must be so pejorative and anti-female that

she'd rather not know.

 

Nitin was agitating for speedy returns, to acquire more spaceships--and

missiles.  He wanted to see the total destruction of all Eosi on Catten.

 

He dismissed the problem of getting armed ships past the space station

that guarded the planet from attack, even a sneak one, by units of its

own space force.  The ships used in attack missions were based in

another system.  He pointed out that he knew all the code words to gain

access to naval ordnance: there was even a high-ranking officer who was

a member of their covert group.  But he had been an administrator until

he had been dismissed from his post and a much younger junior with

excellent blood and Eosian connections had taken his place.  That had

been sufficient for Nitin to wish to retaliate against a hierarchy that

had not rewarded his many years of devoted service.

 

"Almost Human of him," Hassan Moussa said with a chuckle.  "Happens

often in Israel."

 

"But does that attitude assure us of his loyalty?" Ray bluntly asked

Zainal.

 

"Considering that his family bloodlines date back to the Original

Hundred, yes, it does.  He needs to wipe that dismissal from his

family's history," Zainal replied.

 

The latest news from Earth was both good and bad---the good being that

the Eosi had given up their mind-wipe program.  The bad was that they

were now concentrating on razing cities, towns, settlements of any size,

to the ground.

 

ZAINAL SEEMED TO HAVE NO TROUBLE playing with Zane in the affectionate

way he had always used with the child who was walking without

assistance.  If he fell down, he got himself up.  If he bruised himself

in doing so and started to cry, Zainal would cock his head and the tears

would dry up.

 

Kris didn't approve of Zainal's attitude toward perfectly reasonable

tears.  They had another fight over that.

 

"If he is badly hurt, he may cry," Zainal said.  "But, on Botany, he

must learn to take tumbles and get up and walk on," he added.  "As you

did on our initial treks."

 

"I was an adult, not a baby;' She was also stung that he would bring up

those incidents, so long ago she'd forgotten them.

 

"If Zane walks, he is no longer a baby."

 

"He's my child and I'll dictate what he may or may not do."

 

"Tell him not to bother me then;' "Bother you?"

 

"He seeks my company."

 

"And you never push him away."

 

"No, but I will if you do not like the way I treat the son of my mate."

 

Zainal's face had assumed the cold Catteni look that devastated her, and

she caved in.

 

"I want you to be fatherly toward Zane.  He couldn't understand you

changing," she said more meekly than she meant to sound.

 

"I do as I see other fathers here do, Kris;' he replied in a quiet,

kinder tone.  Then he caressed her cheek.  "And when my sons learn that

you are really Emassi in spite of being female, I would like you to be

elder mother to them."

 

"Truce?" she said, holding out her hand.

 

"Truce?  Yes, truce.  We two should not be angry at each other over

nothing."

 

"Nothing?" That was enough to get her back up all over again but Zainal

stopped the incipient quarrel by kissing her so thoroughly that she had

to cling to him to keep upright.

 

He was learning some other tricks of Human males, too, she thought as he

carried her to their bed.  It was nearly midday but neither was due for

duty for another hour so.  Zane was already in the crche.  They had not

been together often enough recently, she thought.  No wonder they were

fighting.

 

When they had finished a very satisfactory passage in arms, Kris asked

Zainal how plans were going for the next series of "raids." Despite the

inconveniences of masquerading and enduring the heavier gravity of

Catten, she realized there must be a piraticalcertainly aViking--streak

from her ancestry that gave her such enjoyment in these forays.  It was

so very satisfying to sneak :m under Catteni noses and get away with

such good plunder.

 

Though she gave a little shudder thinking what might happen if they

didn't get away with their deceptions.  She quickly gave up thinking

about that.

 

"The Council thinks hard about the next step.  We," and Zainal turned

his thumb in on himself so that Kris knew he meant the other Catteni,

"must make additional contact with those who can help with our challenge

to Eosi domination."

 

"Will that mean only you go?" she asked.  After being with him again,

she hated to be separated.  Not that they could indulge in intimacies

aboard even the larger KDL, but she would miss him acutely no matter how

short a separation.

 

BY THE FALL OF NIGHT THAT DAY, the residents had another problem.

 

Some of those brought in on the last G-class ship were young folks, aged

between five and twelve: children who had grown up knowing nothing but

the Catteni domination.  Most of them were either orphaned or had been

separated from their parents, and three could not even remember their

names.  Dorothy Dwardie turned the most violent over to Dr.  Hessian

since his Freudian training would be valuable in these instances.  Their

childhoods, if one could use the word, had been so traumatic that,

unless therapy was used, they would be neurotic by their teens.

 

"Children can survive the most appalling circumstances;' Dorothy said as

she addressed those who had volunteered to house the orphans, "but the

one thing they have, which adults often lack, is resilience.  Shown

kindness, especially fair play, will do much to show them what we, here

on Botany at least, consider 'normal' behavior."

 

Some of the wildest had had to be sedated throughout the trip.

Laugh-rey, who had been captain of the purloined ship, said his crew had

been totally unable to cope with this group.

 

"We did find out that, when we brought them to the ship .  .  · the

first time;' and he grimaced, "we were Human quislings and were taking

them to work to death as slaves.  When we rounded them up again, we had

to sedate them.  Most were covered with infected sores--well, you've

seen their scars--and wounds.  In my opinion, they're worse off than the

Victims.  And they're just as much Victims of the Eosi as the

mind-wiped."

 

Every attempt was made over the next few weeks to integrate the

children.

 

The placements were not universally successful, though Sarah and Joe

lurked out with a five-year-old girl.  Once she realized that she was

safe, she refused to be separated from her foster parents and either

Sarah or Joe had to have her in tow.  She also didn't speak, but Dorothy

Dwardie felt that, once she felt really, truly safe, she would talk.

 

"Children pick up speech patterns from their carets.  If they've had no

carers, of any kind," and Dorothy shrugged.  "There's certainly no

impediment in her vocal equipment."

 

The psychologist grinned, reminding the foster parents of the screams

the child had uttered when she was given her three-in-one injection. Two

of the children on board the G-ship had had measles so preventative

shots were essential.

 

Maizie, the name Sarah and Joe had given their waif, was derived from

her constant look of amazement at foodmall she wanted to eat--and dean

covers on a bed that only she occupied.  She did take to carrying the

fluff-filled pillow with her everywhere.  That was a useful habit, not

only reinforcing her sense of security, but because she was inclined to

take unexpected naps, both hands clutching the pillow.

 

"I don't think she ever slept on Earth;' Sarah told Kris.  "At this

rate, you won't have to have a second child," and she cocked her head at

Kris.

 

"Especially now Zainal's got his two sons here."

 

"Kasturi hid his family away before he defected, and he wants to bring

them in.  He has daughters.  I just hope he doesn't do a Maasai on

them;' Kris said in a jaundiced tone of voice.

 

"If you ask me, it wouldn't hurt some of our latest drop-ins to be sent

down to Chief Caleb Materu;' Sarah said.

 

"I believe that's also occurred to our noble leaders.  Dorothy's against

it," and Kris paused.

 

"So are you," and Sarah snorted.  "But I catch any of them bullying some

of the littler boys again, I'm going to thump 'em."

 

There was a hard-core group of eighteen who had banded together: six

black, eight white, two Japanese, one Chinese girl, and one French lad:

ranging from seven to the eighteen-year-old black lad, Clune, who was

their acknowledged leader.  They had actually been rounded up by the

Catteni, as they were old enough to survive the drugged journey.

Laughrey freed them from the DC-area holding pens where they awaited

transportation.

 

They had become a unit, fourteen males and four females, calling the

Diplomatic Corp.  They were still a unit, despite being as-to foster

parents.  They refused to work but managed to acquire food whenever they

wanted it.  Several sessions in the stocks for Clune, and his two

"consuls," Ferris and Ditsy, failed to correct their attitude.  Twice

their unit disappeared from Retreat and had to be tracked down by

Ru-garians and Deski, with Chuck Mitford in command.  The second time,

he marched them back without a single rest break.

 

Not even demonstrations of what night crawlers could do seemed to deter

them from defecting from Retreat.  The supplies they had acquired on

both occasions showed that they could access anything they chose to

have: including com units.  And they were clever enough to have opened

secure premises to get the weapons they wanted.  Oddly enough, among the

goods they took from infirmary supplies were condoms.  One of the group,

the seventeen-year-old who called herself Floss, had insisted that none

of the girls should get pregnant: an unexpected display of common sense.

 

It became clear within the first two weeks that they had no intention of

integrating.  They were not, in Leons medical opinion, physically well

enough---after four or five years of eating whatever they could scrounge

for the unit--to look after themselves in one of the closed valleys.

Which had been suggested as one remedy to their recalcitrant behavior.

Floss had been acting as their medic, since she had taken a first-aid

course before the invasion, but she would not be capable of dealing with

the serious wounds nor the various infections, external and internal,

which plagued the young folk.

 

"We can't let them go half-healed, and that Floss needs a D and C," Leon

reported.  "Mary said it's not urgent...  yet.  But fibroid growths have

a tendency to keep growing unless there's a curettage."

 

"Why don't we see if Chief Materu would take them in for a spell," was

Laughrey's suggestion.  "Let's make it really basic for them:'

 

"Haven't they endured enough 'basic'?" Dorothy asked, though she could

come up with no other suggestions.  Almost all the other children that

had been rescued were settling in or responding to trauma therapy.

 

"Not a structured basic," Ray Scott said.  "I'd rather they had enough

training to survive on their own, if that's the course we have to take

with such a hard-nosed bunch.  I'll give Chief Materu a call;'

 

Chief Materu accepted the challenge.  It didn't surprise Kris, though

that Zainal decided to go along with those marching the Diplomatic Corp

down to the southern settlement of the Maasai.  She chuckled, thinking

of the pace that Zainal would set.  Chuck, the two Doyle brothers, Joe

Latore, Coo, and Slav came along "for the exercise."

 

When Chuck met Kris on his return, he said that the trip had been

instructive for all concerned.  "Chief Caleb's segregating the girls who

certainly don't like that part of it.  Nor working with only women.  But

work they will.  Good thing those Maasai are so tall." He grinned with

satisfaction of an assignment suitably fulfilled.

 

"Ah...  how are Zainal's two fitting in?"

 

Chuck eyed her.  "They are.  Even manage to chatter some in Maasai.

 

Zainal allowed a smile for each of them, and you'd've thought they'd

been turned loose in a candy store.  They've picked up some sort of skin

problem but the Maasai now have the medical plants they need to cope

with almost every ailment."

 

That reassurance gave Kris enormous relief.

 

"Were our renegades similarly impressed by seven-foot chiefs?" she

asked.

 

Chuck laughed.  "What's that word that Ninety uses?  Oh, yes,

gob-smacked.

 

They were that in spades.  Turns out that two of the black kids were

Africans from their countries' respective embassies.  They knew the

Maasai, certainly by reputation, and enough Swahili to understand basic

orders."

 

Chuck took a long pull on his beer and then folded his hands across his

stomach.  "Yup, that was a good idea Laughrey had."

 

THREE DAYS LATER there was an urgent com call for Zainal and Leon from

Chief Materu.  The skin problem for the two Catteni boys had not

responded to Maasai cures and the boys had developed fevers that could

not be reduced.  Kris offered to come, too, and Zainal was worried

enough to want her company.  Leon brought what he felt would be the

appropriate equipment, carefully strapping the microscope box into a

travel net on Baby, as well as a variety of medications.

 

"It's unusual for Catteni to have skin infections," he murmured to Kris

as Zainal drove Baby at its best speed.  "Or fevers.  Zainal's never

shown any toxic reaction to anything here on Botany.  That I heard of?"

the Australian looked inquiringly at Kris.  She shook her head.  "Well,

we'll just have to wait and see.  Not that, with this speed, we'll be

long waiting."

 

ZAINAL LANDED BABY as near to the chief's high-set platform as he could.

Materu had heard the noise of the approaching ship and beckoned them to

follow him to where the boys were being cared for.

 

The fevers were high, even when Leon adjusted the thermometer reading to

CatteN levels.  The sores exuded yellow pus that had a nose-shriveling

odor to it.  Leon quickly made slides and, taking his microscope out in

the light did a quick investigation.  He was shaking his head when he

returned.

 

"I've never seen anything like it.  It's some sort of...  allergic

reaction that's causing the skin to erupt like this:'

 

"Will antihistamines work on Catteni systems?" Kris asked, hands denched

into fists with anxiety.  Zainal wore his worst Catteni face, and she

was sure he thought the boys were dying.  So did Chief Materu and his

medicine man, or whatever they were called in Swabill.

 

"It's the one thing I can try.  The only Human equivalent to those sores

is pyoderma gangrenosum," Leon said.  "And that may be the result of a

col-iris.

 

Neither lad had any sign of that sort of problem when I checked them

over." Then he asked what the boys had been eating, but he shook his

head when the listing was complete.  "Nothing they didn't have on board

the KDL except for fresh rocksquats and fish, and they haven't bothered

Zainal.

 

Nothing else, Chief Caleb?"

 

It was the medicine man, introduced as Parmitoro Kassiora, who said

something in Maasai to the chief.

 

"He says he gave them a very, very small dose of olkiloriti because they

ate too much and had bellyaches.  Much less than he would use with our

boys because they are different;'

 

"Isn't that from the acacia plants that were just brought back?" Leon

asked.

 

Parmitoro added something else.

 

"He says that some of the Catteni who rounded them up took ill like

this, with sores, and died;' the chief translated, looking exceedingly

pleased.

 

"Hey, you could be right about allergy, Kris." He checked through the

medications he had brought with him and found several, looking from one

bottle to another.  "Their metabolism runs at a different level despite

other similarities to our own body mechanisms.  Give me your arm, Zay,"

he said.

 

When Zainal had bared his arm, he did a quick reaction test of all three

possible medications.  Leon whistled under his breath as he timed the

testing.  Behind him the boys muttered in their fevers, tossing and

almost, but not quite, crying with the pain incurred by moving.

 

"Not a damned thing;' Leon muttered after the required reaction time was

up.  "At least you're not allergic to antihistamines;' Then he looked

Zainal straight in the eye.  "Do I have your permission to try, Zainal?

At least I believe they will take no further harm from the shots."

 

Zainal nodded.  Leon bowed slightly to the Maasai medic, who had been

observing with close interest but no reaction to what Leon had been

doing.  Chief Materu had murmured some explanations in Maasai.

 

"Do I offend your Parmitoro Kassiora by using our medicines?"

 

Caleb Materu gave them a wide smile of very white and even teeth.

 

"Not at all.  The boys have been good boys, and they are not Maasai so

perhaps Maasai medicine could not work on them." Materu turned to

Zainal.

 

"For that he apologizes."

 

"None needed." Zainal nodded once to Parmitoro in acceptance.

 

"That takes care of the medical ethics," Leon said in a wry tone.  "I'll

give one to Bazil here, and another to Peran.  Then we've one spare.. :'

He made the injections.

 

And they waited.  Some of the women, and that included a rebellious and

surly Floss, brought food and cool water.  The hut was not only stuffy

but also reeked of the suppurations.  Kris did edge toward the opening

of the hut.

 

"I want out of here, bitch," Floss muttered as she and an older Maa-sai

woman returned with a fresh bucket of cold water.

 

"Only when you're no longer one, dear," Kris replied in a low tone.

 

"D'you know what they do to women here?" Floss said, and there was a

certain desperation in her eyes now.

 

"All the more reason for you to reform your outlook on life on Botany;'

she said, for she had heard about the female genital mutilation

practiced by some African tribes.  Were the Maasai one?  She couldn't

remember.

 

Floss made a sudden movement toward Kris, which, in retrospect, Kris

decided she deserved for the taunt, and immediately the tall Maasai

woman grabbed hold of Floss and threw her from the hut.  Kris could hear

the thud of the girl hitting the hard ground.  She thought she'd better

make certain that the girls of the Diplomatic Corp were not required,

during this reed-ucation period, to adhere to all Maasai customs.  They

should have brought along one of the Swahili speakers.  How the hell was

she going to explain this one?

 

They waited.  They could and did try to ease the boys' fevers with the

cool water, laying fresh cloths carefully over the sore-covered bodies.

 

It was dark before Leon extracted a thermometer from Bazil's armpit and

exclaimed.  "The fever's coming down."

 

Kris was in the process of changing a cool cloth when she noticed that

the sores were no longer oozing.  In fact, the smell was lessening, too.

 

"Hey, look!" And she pointed to the nearest sore.  "It's drying up."

 

Zainal immediately stripped the coverings from Peran, and the younger

boy also seemed to be responding to the medication.

 

"It's four hours.  Time to give them another shot."

 

During the next four hours, the sores seemed to dry up in waves,

starting from the chest working downward to the limbs.  The boys'

temperatures dropped to normal, and they each fell into a deep sleep.

 

"Empirical but you Catteni are not impervious to the minor ailments to

which Human flesh is heir," Leon said as they all left the hut and stood

in the fresh night air.

 

"This acacia?  They swallowed it?" Zainal asked.

 

Materu said.  "It is ground fine and a small amount taken with water."

 

"Do I know what you're thinking, Zainal?" Leon asked, eyebrows twitching

and the gleam of a smile on his face.

 

"The problem would be 'how.""

 

"Yes, it would, wouldn't it," Leon said.

 

Kris had no trouble following their line of thought but she also

couldn't figure out how the olkiloriti could be administered to the

Eosi.

 

How could they possibly get Eosi to swallow sufficient to kill them?  Or

at least give them an awful allergic reaction?

 

"Were the boys in real danger from just an allergic reaction?" she asked

Leon.  She'd never even had a bad case of poison ivy.

 

He cocked his head.  "If the antihistamines hadn't taken effect, I don't

think they'd've survived the night." He looked back at the hut. "They'll

still need a lot of care...  and no further herbal medications. I hope

Parmitoro won't take offense."

 

"He would take more offense if you had come and the boys had died,"

Caleb Materu said with an amused snort.

 

"I do have some salve I used on Catteni wounds," Leon said, dragging his

medical bag out into the cool night air.  "To heal the sores.  I know it

doesn't react on Catteni.  The sea, too, will help.  Can they swim,

Zainal?"

 

"They do now," Caleb said in his deep voice, and in the torchlight, his

eyes sparkled.

 

"When the sores are closed, have them swim in the sea.  Salt's still a

superb cure-all;'

 

"You wish them to remain in my care?" the chief asked Zainal.

 

"I do," Zainal said firmly.

 

"How are the others doing, chief?" Leon asked and his eyes danced with

mischief.

 

"They learn;'

 

Kris pulled at Leon's sleeve, to get him to listen to her whisper.

"Floss is terrified that the Maasai will do something .  .  .  down

there;' and she pointed to the correct spot.

 

Leon covered a burst of laughter.  "I imagine she would be.  Don't

worry.  Hassan made it plain that the females must return in the same

physical condition in which they arrived.  He also said that Chief

Materu is one of the more modern leaders."

 

Kris let her breath out with a whoosh.

 

"Don't reassure her, though," Leon went on.  "Being real scared is

effective conditioning as negative conditioning.  Dorothy and I did

discuss an aversion state, like intense fear, to be used to cancel out a

lesser, unpleasant state...  like choosing to be cooperative if you're

angry.  If there is something that does terrify that hard-boiled little

minx, let's let it stand.  Right?"

 

"Right."

 

LEON GAVE THE BOYS A THIRD INJECTION.  He measured out tablets, which he

put in a jar for Parmitoro to give the boys orally during the next ten

days.  Then the two medical men shook hands.

 

By common consent the three retired to Baby to sleep for the Botanic

night wasn't even half over when the boys began to improve.  In the

morning, when Leon had gone over to check on his patients, Kris heard an

odd noise, small but definitely not a regular sound.

 

She caught Zainal's attention and pointed to the passageway.  Two of the

Diplomatic Corp girls, and one of them was Floss, were attempting to

squeeze into one of the storage compartments.  It was the opening of the

panel that Kris had heard.

 

Zainal had no sooner made it to the doorway with Floss under one

arm--and Kris behind him with an arm lock on the other, younger girl

than four Maasai women arrived.

 

"If you behave, Floss;' Kris said sternly as the Maasai women took firm

charge of the would-be stowaways, "you'll come back in the same physical

condition you arrived here.  But if you continue to misbehave...  well,"

and Kris spread her hands wide to indicate the outcome would be out of

her control.

 

Floss turned dead white under the tan she was acquiring.  Then she

gathered herself up to snarl back and, before she could utter a word,

she was pinched so painfully by the headwoman that whatever invective

she had been about to spit out at Kris was lost in her yelp.  Zainal

drew Kris back in the ship.  He was grinning.

 

"Doesn't like you, does she?"

 

"I can't blame her, but tough love works;'

 

"Love?" Zainal queried.

 

"Well, discipline meted out fairly for failure to obey." And she pointed

to the tableau of Floss.  Balancing a big basket on her head with both

hands, she was bracketed between two tall Maasai women who moved with a

grace Floss had yet to achieve.  The younger girl was sobbing softly,

her arm in the grasp of the headwoman.

 

Kris didn't at all like the sexism practiced by the Maasai but, if it

taught Floss discipline and respect, she might even become a useful

colonist when she returned to Retreat.

 

THE CIRCUMSTANCES of this medical alert were immediately reported to Ray

Scott and the other Catteni were hastily gathered together.  When Zainal

had explained what he hoped to achieve, Nitin and Kasturi both started

shaking their heads.

 

"Eosi are well aware that even the Emassi who surround them might seize

an opportunity to use a poison.  Anything they consume is first tested

by a Catteni," Nitin said gloomily.

 

"Perhaps it is effective only on young bodies which have not matured

enough to deal with dangerous substances," Kamiton said.

 

"Care to try it?" Leon said, taking out a vial containing some of the

powdered olkiloriti.  The Australian had an odd sense of humor.

 

Zainal held out his hand for it but Kamiton snatched it first.  He

pulled out the cork top and sniffed deeply.

 

"See?There is no danger..  :' His yellow eyes turned up in his skull and

he started to have such severe convulsions that he jerked off the chair

he was sitting in.

 

Leon sprang into action.  Fortunately he still had his medical kit handy

and, muttering under his breath about what dose would be sufficient to

counter the reaction, he filled a syringe.  Zainal and Kasturi were

trying to keep Kamiton from hurting himself with the severity of the

spasms that beset him but, strong as they were, they were having

difficulty holding him.

 

Leon tried twice to pierce the tough Catteni hide with his hypodermic

needle, cursing about elephant hides and crocodile scales, but managed

to plunge the medication in.

 

The convulsions did not immediately cease, though Kris, watching

anxiously for she had come to like Kamiton, thought they were not as

violent.

 

Leon readied a second syringe from a different bottle with the longest

needle Kris had ever seen.

 

"Let's hope your hearts can take this kind of convulsion;' he said as

Kamiton's spine arched grotesquely.  "Here, hold this, Kris.  Hold it

up:' He gave her the hypodermic and got his stethoscope out.

 

"Keep his arms out of my way, can you Zainal, Kasturi?" he asked in

Catteni.  Over Kamiton's inarticulate cries, whatever he managed to hear

worried him.  "I don't like the sounds in his lungs.  Inhalation was a

damned foolish idea.  Cardiac arrest is possible.  Kris, call the

infirmary and send the team down here fast as possible;'

 

"I've already called in a medical emergency," Ray said, com unit in his

hand as he stared down at the writhing body of the Catteni.  "I think

that shot is beginning to work:'

 

"It is?" Leon said, surveying the contortions.  "You're right.  The

spasms are reducing in intensity."

 

"Eosi must breathe, mustn't they?" Kasturi remarked in Catteni to Nitin,

their eyes still on the slowly relaxing body of their colleague.

 

"Yes, even Eosi breathe," N/tin observed.  "But their living quarters

are so carefully guarded..."

 

"Crop dusting might do," Leon observed with the fingers of one hand on

Kamitoffs neck.  "Pulse still racing.  Damned fool thing to do with a

drug he knew was dangerous."

 

"A very Catteni thing to do/' was Kris' rejoinder, her pulse racing as

well from fear of the consequences of Kamiton's rash impulse.  "Do I

need to keep this?" she asked, meaning the syringe she still held.

 

"We might.  I'd rather have conducted a controlled experiment but the

empirical test was certainly conclusive," Leon added in an admiring

tone.

 

Kamiton's body twitched only slightly now but his breathing was still

labored, and he had not regained consciousness.

 

"Crop dusting?" Zainal asked, looking up at her, not having understood

Leon's remark.

 

"A term for an aerial application of fertilizer or insecticides over

large areas.  Airplanes are used," and she made a sweeping gesture with

her free hand.

 

"What has she said?" Nitin asked, his English being almost nonexistent.

 

When Zainal explained, Nitin once again shook his head.  "No aerial

traffic is allowed over Eosi compounds."

 

"There's more than one way to kill a cat without choking him with

butter," Kris said.

 

"Say again?" asked Zainal, blinking with a lack of comprehension.

 

"'There are nine and sixty ways of singing tribal lays/" Leon chanted,

"'and every single one of them is right.""

 

Ray Scott laughed.  Kris wouldn't have thought he'd know Kipling that

well.  But they needed a spot of relief after the anxiety over Kamiton.

 

"I'm sure we'll think of some way," Scott said.

 

Just then the cardiac arrest team arrived.

 

"There has to be some way," Kris said.

 

"We will find it," Zainal said, stepping away from Kamiton as the

emergency team moved in on him.

 

Leon was explaining what had happened and what precautions he wanted

taken when they got Karoiron to the infirmary.  Almost as an

afterthought, he took the syringe from Kris' hand as he followed the

team, with Karoiron carried on a stretcher out the door.

 

"Are there any dissidents on board an Eosi vessel?"

 

"If this stuff is spread through the air circulation, it would kill

everyone on board," Ray said, putting the stopper back in the vial and

placing it well away from the remaining Catteni.

 

"More will be needed, too," Zainal said, regarding the little container

with considerable respect.

 

"Why?" asked Nitin, returning to his seat.  "There is no way it can be

spread for Eosi to inhale."

 

"There must be;' Zainal said, giving the table a pound with his fist

that rattied the vial of olkiloriti.  Ray immediately steadied it.

 

"We will somehow contrive," Kasturi said, giving Nitin a dire look for

his pessimism.

 

"Meanwhile, we have other problems," Ray said, "and, while I am relieved

that your sons survived their ordeal, Zainal, we've a meeting later

today to decide how to cope with the growing destruction of our own

planet;'

 

With a nod of dismissal, he pulled his keyboard to him and began to call

up a program to consider.

 

Zainal, Kris, Kasturi, and Nitin left the hangar office in thoughtful

silence.

 

"WHAT'S THIS ] HEAR about a lethal drug for the Eosi?" Raisha asked when

Kris came to collect Zane from the cr&he.

 

Kris paused in lifting her jubilant, and heavy, son into her arms. "Boy,

the grapevine works faster than light."

 

Raisha grinned broadly.  "Well, we did see the cardiac arrest team

speeding down to the hangar and then back...  so naturally, we had to

find out the details.  And thank goodness, Zainal's sons are all right:'

 

"Yes, that was pretty tricky for a while.  So who's spreading the word?

 

'%u or Sarah?"

 

"Actually, Mavis rushed down.  She was collecting her daughter after her

shift." When Kris, busy with her son, was not forthcoming, Raisha added

more curtly than her usual manner, "Wellll?" and she raised the elegant

curve of her fine brows in query.

 

"Yes, there is a substance that produces a violent allergic response in

Catten/, young and old.  But whether it can be got to the target area is

the moot point.  Don't get your hopes up."

 

"I will try not to, but it will be hard," the pilot said.  "There simply

has to be a way..."

 

"We'll find it.  Maybe we'll hear from the Farmers.  It's been long

enough," Kris said, hoping to distract the woman.

 

"Huh!  I have come to believe more in your Yankee in-gen-oo-ity," and

Raisha grinned, parodying Zainal's use of the word.

 

"See you, later.  Say good-bye, Zane and thank you to Raisha."

 

"Goo-by, t'ank," the obedient child managed.

 

"You should have another before he is much older," Raisha said.

 

"Ha!  Won't need to if we import more kids."

 

"Has that wild group settled in with the Maasai?"

 

Kris chuckled.  "They've had no choice."

 

Raisha nodded with satisfaction.

 

"I think Zane'll have to spend the night here .  .  .  a big meeting

this evening.  I'll feed and bathe him first:'

 

"This good boy's always welcome."

 

ZAINAL WAS NOT IN THEIR COTTAGE so Kris let Zane wander about the place

while she cleaned up from their hurried departure the previous day.

 

All the time her mind kept working through possibilities, but any bright

ideas that occurred required more knowledge than she had of Eosian

habits and habitats, information she did not have on hand.  Even if

Nitin was so pessimistic, she had the feeling that Zainal and Kasturi

were not.

 

Her com unit buzzed, and Beggs informed her in his prosaic manner that

her presence was requested for twenty hundred hours at the hangar for an

emergency session of the complete Council.  She opened her mouth to

thank him when he closed the connection.  She didn't like him and he

knew it, but Beggs was the sort who would do his duty though it choked

him.

 

And he was efficient.  With the com unit in hand, she called the

infirmary to ask how Kamiton was.

 

"He's left," was the report from the agitated receptionist.  "Dr.  Dane

tried to keep him in for observation, but he just walked out."

 

"He's all right then," Kris said, chuckling.  No Cartertl worth the rank

of Emassi would let a thing like a near brush with death keep him abed.

So he'd be there at the meeting.  That meant that Tubelin would probably

side with Zainal, so it would be three Catteni for and one against.

 

No, she shook her head, correcting herself.  The meeting was about other

matters entirely.  While wiping out the Eosi would be the answer to many

problems, that wasn't the panacea for all the woes that currently beset

Humanity.

 

That was the subject of the meeting.

 

John Beverly addressed those who crowded into the hangar.  When the

numbers attending exceeded space available, a com system was hurriedly

set up to allow those outside to hear what was being said.  Kris noted

with approval that the four Maasai chiefs were there, with Hassan Moussa

whispering translations.

 

"Our last trip to Earth showed us what the Eosi are doing to our

planet...  stripping it of anything valuable and destroying what they do

not understand.  They are also systematically shipping Humans out as

slave labor.  The old, the very young, the infirm, the injured or sick

are being left to fend for themselves and many will die.  We cannot,

here on Botany, continue to provide succor to those, much as we would

like to.  There is a finite limit to what Botany can provide.

 

"However, Kamiton has been able to supply us with the information of the

other planets--some of them as habitable as Botany--where Humans have

been dropped, as we were, to make the best of what was avail able.  We

want to check on these.  If necessary, support them with tools,

medicines, and other supplies.  That will mean healthy people to take

back to Earth when it's ours again.  I'd like volunteers to go with

our--"and he paused to emphasize the recent acquisitions"--G-ships to

show them how.

 

There are five other drop"--and he grinned to use the term"--planets

that we know of and we want to visit each.  We also know of four

installations where, according to Kasturi, Humans are being used as

slave labor in appalling conditions.  Some of our Maasai were sent to an

ice planet.  We want to free those we can.  Right under Catteni noses,

so to speak;' And Beverly flashed a smile when someone demanded to know

how.  "Pretend we're Catten/shifting work forces.  We've inside help now

besides Zainal."

 

And he turned to indicate the four dissident Catteni seated to one side

of the table.  "We can't emancipate--" and again that roguish grin on

the air orce general s face"--all the slaves but we can try.

 

"Why?" someone roared.  "They'll be half-dead.  I don't mind helping now

and then, but all the time?"

 

There was considerable support to that complaint.

 

"I know, I know," John said.  "Altruism can go too far.  And if we can,

we will disperse these folk on some of the other planets we know about.

 

"Don't lose sight of the fact that the reason for these forays is to

spread confusion among the Eosi and the Emassi in charge by a series of

totally unexpected shifts of personnel and material which will disappear

completely.

 

The Eosi don't like mysteries."

 

"Yeah, but won't they just retaliate by killing more of us back on

Earth?"

 

"They might, if they could see the connection;' John Beverly said.

 

"We'll be using Catteni ships they haven't yet realized we have.  How

can they hold Earth responsible when Catten/are the only ones involved?

 

"Meanwhile, Catteni dissidents will be mobilized-and there are many

Catteni who want to be free of Eosian domination just as much as we do."

 

"You going to use that dust to kill those bastards?" someone shouted.

 

John Beverly paused a moment, smiling.  "Doesn't take long for rumor to

circulate Retreat, does it?"

 

There were good-natured chuckles.

 

"We now have a means, but we don't have a way."

 

"Set up a Ways and Means Committee then;' some wit shouted and laughter

greeted that suggestion.

 

"We have.  Any ideas are cheerfully received.  Now," and John looked

down at his notes, "we're making another foray to Earth, to collect

supplies, visit the other planets where Humans have been dropped, so I'm

asking for some of the First Drop to come along in case we can help.

Zainal's making another run to contact other dissidents."

 

Suddenly Gino Marrucci, who had been in the bridge on com link watch,

came rushing up the steps to the platform and whispered something in

Ray's ear.

 

He rose.  "We may not be able to implement those plans just yet;' he

said.  "Gino says there's a massive attack force approaching.  We may

just have annoyed the Eosi too much."

 

"What do we do now?" a woman wailed in the silence that followed the

announcement.

 

Kris had no trouble identifying the wailer as Anna Bollinger.

 

"I think we go out the back door NOW ;' Zainal said, gesturing for John

Beverly to nominate his crews.

 

"What if the Bubble bursts?" Anna screamed.

 

"Don't be so stupid, woman." And Aarens was on his feet and faced her.

 

"The Farmers design much better than the Eosi do:'

 

Kris smothered her laugh.  Anna's panic did spread.  Those at the head

table rose to try and restore calm.  Beverly didn't waste any time, but

pointed out those he wanted as crews for his ships.  He took them off

with him, gathering other men and women as he went.  The hangar was

emptying rapidly, with many running outside to look up in the darkening

sky to check on the Bubble's distant nebulosity.

 

Many watched the barrage all night long.  In some places, the force of

the repeated assault turned the Bubble a glowing orange.  There is no

noise in space, of course, but there was plenty on the com sat link.

Those who gathered in the bridge rooms of Baby and the two K-class in

the hangar lis tened to the sharp exchange of Catteni and Eosi commands.

Kris had joined Zainal and the other Catteni at the bridge installed in

Ray's office where the ex-admiral and the rest of the Council followed

what they could of the attack.

 

"Mentat Ix seems to be in charge," Ray said, looking at Zainal.  "All

the orders seem to be issued in his name."

 

Zainal only nodded as he reached for paper and pencil and, with

Kami-tons help, listed the force trying to batter down the Bubble.

 

"Both the new AA-ships;' Kamiton said, "and five of the big H's that

have been refitted with missiles;'

 

"Ah," and Nitin was cheered up slightly.  "I hear Niassen is commander

of one of the H's.  He's useless."

 

"All he has to do is follow orders," Kasturi said, grinning.

 

"Isn't Redinit on that H?" asked Tubelin.

 

"Yes, I believe he is," Nitin said.  He had supplied Zainal with the

captain and crew complements of most of the ships the Eosi had been

using against the Bubble.

 

"Don't we have three on the HHT?" Kasturi asked.

 

"Not in command posts, unfortunately," Kamiton said with a sigh.

 

"Can you give me some idea of how larg a dissident group you're talking

about?" Ray asked.

 

"Roughly three thousand, spread throughout Eosi-dominated space;'

Kamiton said.

 

Nitin regarded Kamiton with some apprehension, but the Catteni shrugged

the implied reprimand away.

 

"Only three thousand?" Ray said, having hoped for a much larger

subversive element.

 

Zainal laughed.  "It is the nature of our group that's far more

important than the number.  Most of them are in strategic positions.

Quality counts more than quantity."

 

"I suspect it could;' Ray admitted.

 

"Oops," and even Gino recoiled when the Bubble above the com sat area

turned a livid shade of red.  "They're obviously hoping the fabric of

the Bubble is weaker around the array."

 

"Is it holding?" Ray demanded with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

 

"It'll hold," Gino said, "but it's taking a beating."

 

At some point during that long vigil, Ainger arrived, much annoyed, with

a folded note from John Beverly.

 

"I resent being used as a messenger simply because I happened to be on

hand;' he grumbled as he handed over the paper.

 

"John's taking all the G's out the back door," Ray said, frowning a bit.

 

"Isn't he exceeding his prerogatives?" Ainger said with an expression of

deep censure.  "Unless, of course, you intended him to attack the

Eosian?"

 

"With G-ships carrying a minimum of weapons?" Zainal asked, surprised.

"No, he's going to provide further distractions, as was planned."

 

"He's away," Gino said, grinning.

 

"He broadcast?" Ainger was livid.

 

"In Morse," Gino said, laughing.  "I just caught it.  Thought it was

only static at first, but he's got it on repeat.  I'd best tell him his

message was received."

 

He manipulated some toggles on the com board and then, listening

intently to the chaotic Catteni messages, finally nodded.  "Yeah, he got

it."

 

THE BARRAGE OF THE BUBBLE WENT ON all the long Catteni night and into

morning, but the fabric of the sphere did not collapse. The sun blotted

out the colors the bombardment made but Bert Put, working the dawn shift

as com officer, said he could hear the orders for continued barrage.

 

"This should infuriate the Mentat Ix," Zainal said, a smile of intense

satisfaction on his face.

 

"Too bad there's no way to use that anger to our benefit;' Ray said.

 

"Ah, but there is," and Zainal held up one finger, his smile deepening.

 

"How?" Nitin said.  "There's no way to get that dust..." and Kami-ton

gave an uncharacteristic shudder.

 

"Having failed, the Mentat will have to explain its defeat to its peer

group," Kamiton said, rubbing his hands together.  "And such a

convocation can be of benefit to us."

 

"How?  We have the dust but not how to disperse it to kill 'em all off,

even if they are in one place together?" asked Ray.

 

There was a long and thoughtful pause, which Jim Rastancil finally

broke.

 

"Where are they likely to assemble?" he asked.

 

"Ah, now that is something we should find out," Zainal said, "and as

soon as possible." He jerked his head at the other dissenters.  "Nitin,

what's your best guess?"

 

"My guess?" And Nitin seemed surprised to be asked such a question.

 

"Where they seem safest, of course," Kamiton said, flicking his fingers.

 

"Where?" Jim asked, looking at Zainal for a translation.

 

"Catten itself," Zainal replied.

 

"Most likely," Kasturi agreed, nodding.

 

"No," Nitin corrected him, frowning.  "The space station where everyone

can be searched and monitored.  Security will be very, very thorough,"

and Nitin looked more pessimistic than ever.  "You won't be able to get

in;'

 

"They will, however, need missiles to replace what they have wasted

against the Bubble," Zainal said with a satisfied grin.  "Emassi Venlik

and a cargo of very useful ores would be made welcome."

 

"You don't have more than a few immature bushes of the olkiloriti down

south," Kris felt obliged to point out.

 

"Baby could sneak in and out without being noticed, couldn't she?" Ray

asked.  "To get more from East Africa?"

 

"You'd better take someone along who knows where to find enough bushes,"

Kris added.

 

"It only took one sniff to disable me," Kamiton said with a grin.

 

"You must have more than a sniff to get all the Eosi"' Nitin grumbled.

 

"It will take some time for all the Eosi to assemble, you know,"

Kas-turi said.  "If this requires a full inquiry."

 

"Oh, it will," Nitin said, once again sunk in his usual gloom.

 

"I'm counting on the full inquiry and the time it will take to assemble

a sufficient number of Mentats," Zainal said, addressing Nitin.  Then he

turned to the others.  "As for gathering the substance, I think

Parmitoro Kassiaro, or even Chief Materu, might assist;'

 

"Don't the women do the actual work?" Kris asked for she couldn't

construct a mental picture of Chief Materu pulverizing leaves in a

mortar with a pestle.

 

Zainal shrugged.  "We use it as a weapon.  That may alter his mind."

 

"The Maasai have declared war on the Catteni, you know;' Ray Scott said

with a wry grin.  "!  don't believe you'll have any trouble getting the

stuff."

 

"That is," Jim added in a cautious note, "if there's still enough

available.

 

The mission report had trouble finding what they did bring back."

 

"Then we must send for what can be found immediately," Zainal said.

 

"I will go myself to ask the chief's help."

 

And, Kris thought to herself, to make sure that Bazil and Peran are

fully recovered.  In his own Catteni way, he did care for them.

 

Chapter Nine.

 

RETREAT BUZZED WITH A BARELY CONtained excitement when Kris brought Zane

up to the crlche before reporting to her shift on the com watch in the

hangar.  Some of the buzz sounded ominous but then there had been a lot

of criticism about taking on more problem groups: like sick and disabled

ex-slaves.  The Victims could not have been left on Barevi: everyone

admitted that.  Now!  Especially since all but thirty of the original

group had responded to the trauma therapy.  The remainder, Dorothy sadly

reported, had been too damaged to reach.

 

But the psychologist felt that the ratio of recoveries was very good

indeed.  Even Dr.  Hessian had had to admit that her program had been

the proper one...  in this instance.  He was happily at work helping the

disturbed children in a blend, Dorothy had said with a perfectly

straight face, of both traditional therapies.

 

Kris always allowed ample time to walk Zane up to the crlche so she had

some to spare and stopped in the main mess hall to sample the general

temper.

 

"Are they still trying to burst our Bubble?" asked Fred Gambino, who was

serving coffee.  "Only one cup allowed, you know."

 

"That's better than none.  I've really missed my caffeine hits," she

said.

 

"And no, the Bubble's holding."

 

Fred leaned across the counter.  "I got a place picked out where I'll

never be found."

 

"You do?" Kris managed to imbue her tone with surprise and amusement. "I

doubt you'll need it."

 

"You sure?"

 

"Sure as I can be about anything apart from death and taxes, and we

don't pay taxes here, now do we?"

 

"Hmm.  Well, it may come to that...  taxes, I mean."

 

"Weren't you among those who met the Farmers, Fred?"

 

He gave her a long look.  "Yeah..."

 

"Haven't they done what they promised?  Kept us safe here on Botany?"

 

"Yeah..."

 

"Well, hold that thought because that Bubble's there to stay."

 

"Yeah, but where are the Farmers if we need them?  They don't have any

satellites buzzing about us like the Catt--'cuse me--Eosi do."

 

"Who's to say they haven't?"

 

That brought his eyebrows up but she put one finger to her lips and

winked.  A harmless enough white lie if it helped reduce panic.

 

"Thought the Farmers were sent a message?"

 

"They were.  I suspect that they have a lot of other planets and systems

to manage, too.  If we really get into trouble, they'll be back.  They

don't approve of injuring any species."

 

"I know one I'd like to take apart, bit by bit," Fred said, making

tearing motions with his hands.

 

Kris merely smiled at him, took her coffee and a hunk of fresh bread,

and found a table at the side where she had a good view of those eating.

 

Fred had probably expressed what many were thinking or fretting about.

 

And he had a hidey-hole picked out?  Interesting.

 

Fragments of arguments, some of them heated, reached her.  Most

concerned the possibility that the Bubble would be breached.  She heard

snatches of complaint about being saddled with more groups who wouldn't

pull their own weight.  Community service hours were long enough as it

was and why did they have to keep on increasing the population.  There

were already enough here.  Some were earnestly discussing the deplorable