Freedom's Challenge (28 page)

“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 large 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 Kamiton 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,” Kasturi 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. “I 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.

RETREAT BUZZED WITH A BARELY CONTAINED excitement when Kris brought Zane up to the crèche 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 crèche 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—'scuse 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 conditions on Earth and would they have to go back and help rebuild, just when Botany was beginning to have at least some amenities. Where would coffee grow on this planet? All right, rationing at least gave everyone a cup a day but when you were used to having as much as you wanted, a cup barely got you started. How much more food crops would they have to plant to feed more new arrivals? What would happen if a Catteni warship did manage to sneak through the Bubble? Or one of the ships that left so precipitously got captured and was used to penetrate the Bubble with all the Eosi ships right after it? That could happen, couldn't it? There were Humans who were vile enough to collaborate with the Catteni, weren't there? Shocking to turn against your own kind like that. One of the nearer tables composed of women only were discussing how best to cope with the outrageous behavior of their foster children. The waifs had initially seemed so happy to have the basic essentials instead of having to scrounge whatever they could, you'd think they'd be more grateful to be well fed, well housed and not complain about the chores they were assigned. Everyone worked on Botany. This colony didn't tolerate freeloaders. Didn't hurt anyone to sweat? Making bricks wasn't that hard. Or weeding.

Then Kris realized she'd better make tracks for the hangar and her shift.

•   •   •

BABY WASN'T THERE, BUT THEN, THE PLAN HAD been for it to be used for a fast round-trip to obtain sufficient olkiloriti. One of the K's was gone but not the KDL, which she had crewed on so often with Zainal. She took over the com watch from Matt Su.

“They're still pounding away,” he told her as he rose from the station. “My ears burn from some of the stuff they're saying about us and…what they'll do when they get in.”

“Well, they can't and they won't,” Kris said because there was just the hint in the Chinese's dark eyes that he was worried. “They have tried the heaviest stuff they have, haven't they?”

“Then why haven't they just left?” Matt asked, dubious.

“Well, the shan will hit the fit if they fail. More likely, they just don't know when to give up.”

“That Mentat Ix is some mule,” Matt said. “It's roaring more and more, and I think it axed some of the captains. I'm hearing new names.”

“Maybe it'll have another fit and die,” Kris said, very much wishing that was possible. Though how Lenvec's subsumed personality could have had any effect on his host Eosi, she didn't know. She'd ask Zainal. The Ix was certainly the bête noire—wanting Zainal's hide for sure.

•   •   •

SHE STOOD HER WATCH, COLLECTED ZANE, AND took a turn at playing with other children: some of the five-year-olds who had been rescued. Most of them had to be taught games that children seemed to know instinctively.

“Well, none of them
had
a childhood, did they?” Anna Bollinger said, treating Kris in a very stiff and almost insulting manner, as if somehow this were Kris' fault. “Some of their personal habits are revolting.”

Ah, thought Kris, she doesn't want her little darlings corrupted, does she?

“At least they have good role models now,” Kris said mildly, pointing to Anna's well-grown youngster, nattering away to two boys, so undernourished at five that her three-year-old appeared older.

“I'd prefer that Jackie had proper children his own age to play with.”

“Jackie seems to feel that it is his job to rectify their ignorance,” Kris said. Chattering away, Jackie was showing the others how to build a little cabin out of the small logs that had been whittled as toys. They watched, their faces expressionless, even if their faces were now clean and their cheeks rounder and tanned.

One of them sent a foot into the log cabin and scattered the blocks. Anna gave an exclamation of concern but Kris caught her arm. “Let's see how Jackie handles it first.”

“Really, Kris, you exceed your authority. I'm in charge of the…” Her voice trailed off as Jackie's reached the two women.

“Now that was very naughty of you,” he said, hands on his hips and sounding exactly like his mother. “You collect them, and we'll start over. On Botany, we make things. We don't break them. That's what the Catteni do and you don't want to be Catteni, do you?”

The boys glanced over at the two women watching: Anna's expression was stern enough to frighten anyone. Kris grinned and made a gesture that suggested that it was wiser to obey. After a little more hesitation, possibly to show that they were making up their own minds about this, they bent to gather up the logs.