TEXT: divisions disappear.  Still, questions arise.  Should they settle in and
  begin to make this world their home, bearing children and creating a
  new
  society?  Or should they return to Earth and join the battle against the
  Catteni oppressors who abandoned them on this planet?.
  sequal to freedoms landing
  Preface
  When the Catteni, mercenaries for a race called Eosi, invaded Earth,
  they used their standard tactic of domination by landing in fifty cities
  across the planet and removing entire urban populations.  These were
  distributed throughout the Catteni worlds and sold as slaves along with
  other conquered species.
  Since slavery did not sit well with many of the first world countries,
  the conquerors met with considerably more resistance than had been
  anticipated.  The size and general brutality of the Catteni soldier
  generally inculcated sufficient fear and obedience to inhibit active
  resistance on many of their previous invasions.
  
  Catteni had quantities of expendable personnel, they could utilize an
  empirical method of discovering which was fertile and friendly, and
  which contained dangers making them inimical.  A check was kept on
  the
  survival rate of such inadvertent settlers.  If few remained alive, the
  world was abandoned.  If the survival rate was high, more deliveries
  were made.  When the imposed population had made the world tenable,
  the
  Catteni would install an overlord and exact a percentage of the gross
  planetary product.  Any dissenters to this procedure were then rounded
  up and deposited on yet another potential colonial world.
  Botany was one such colonial world on which the Catteni, emptying
  holding cells on Barevi and Earth, dropped several species to see how
  they survived - each other as well as the peculiar, but as yet
  unidentified denizens.
  The Catteni outfitted each of the unsuspecting colonists with durable
  clothing, a blanket and a packet of dry rations.  The 'shipment' spent
  the voyage in a form of suspended animation and were deposited on the
  planet where knives, hatchets and rudimentary medical kits were left for
  
  Zainal, the one Catteni who had been shanghaied in that shipment,
  remembered other vague problems about this planet from a cursory
  reading
  of the original exploration report.  Although some of the stranded
  people wanted to revenge themselves by taking the Catteni's life, Kris
  Bjornsen forestalled the attempt, suggesting that he knew more than
  anyone else did about this planet and they'd better keep him alive for a
  while.  Sergeant Chuck Mitford saw the wisdom in that - and also in the
  Catteni's advice to seek higher, stonier ground if they wished to
  survive.  In a forced march to the safety of the nearby hills, Mitford
  realized that Zainal could be useful for quite a few reasons.
  Establishing a base camp, hunting for edible life forms and foods,
  occupied every one of the survivors under Mitford's command. The
  settlers discovered that this planet was not as unoccupied as the
  Catteni report suggested.  In fact, it seemed to be a planet extensively
  farmed by mechanized, highly sophisticated machinery, operating with-
  out
  any 'live' supervision.  On a scouting mission, Kris Bjornsen and Zainal
  encountered more humans, as well as representatives of the other four
  races also dumped on Botany.
  
  Then he was summoned to a covert meeting with another Emassi
  high-ranking official, with an offer to be returned to his rank and
  duties: an offer he summarily rejected.
  By then, there were sufficient technicians and engineers available to
  redesign some of the available equipment into useful appliances and
  machines, supplying communications and useful equipment to assist the
  settlers.
  Using the aerial maps reluctantly supplied him, Zainal led a group to
  what might be a command centre on the planet.
  However although it had obviously not been occupied for a very long
  time, a garage held several aerial devices and smaller missiles of a
  homing device design.  One of these was deliberately launched by Dick
  Aarens.
  The launch is observed by interested agencies - and so begins the sec-
  ond
  part of the Catteni story.
  
  noted
  as it headed galactically north and east towards the furthest edge of
  the Milky Way.  Just as the missile reached the heliopause of the
  system, it disappeared.  A scan produced no debris; no ion or any other
  trace of what had powered its drive could be detected. It had vanished:
  a fact that was unacceptable to the monitoring program and caused a
  functional error which required internal investigation and repair.
  Although its earlier tracking was recorded, the satellite did not - due
  to the anomalies - immediately forward the data to its server.
  Consequently, without a requisite emergency code, the information went
  through several processings before the anomalies were noticed.  It was
  then immediately reported to the proper authority.  A team was
  despatched to correct the malfunction, but none was found even after a
  complete overhaul and maintenance check of the satellite.  The data
  was
  therefore suspect as a malfunction in itself, rather than the recording
  of an event.  The planet was, after all, a penal colony; the exiles
  equipped with the barest essentials for survival and no technological
  equipment whatever.  It was only by chance that the report was ever
  seen
  
  As they were also father and son, the son was accustomed to his sire's
  scowls; he almost enjoyed the reaction, knowing that Zainal's refusal to
  return and accept the duty imposed on his rank and family would
  blacken
  his brother's previously spotless reputation in their father's
  estimation.
  "He was chosen,' Perizec continued, bashing one huge fist onto the
  pervalloy worktop.  'He cannot refuse the summons." 'He did,' Lenvec
  said with an imperturbable shrug of one shoulder.  "'I'm dropped, I
  stay." You know the convention." Perizec crashed both fists onto the
  worktop, bouncing everything on it, and scattering the files from the
  desk rack.  'An Eosi matter has precedence over any Catteni conven-
  tion!
  You know that!" The scowl deepened, pulling down the heavy mouth
  and
  jaw, darkening the gray-toned skin.  'He has known of this duty since he
  was presented to the Eosi.  Dropped or not, he is to return to accept
  that duty." The fists banged emphatically again.
  
  hit
  and crashed in the western hunting grounds.  No trace was found of him
  then, but he was discovered later that night among dissidents who had
  been gassed during a riot.  Because it was within the twenty-four hours,
  one of the crewmen made certain that he remained in the transport
  facility and was included in the shipment.  He made his presence known
  to a second Drop crew.  Your office was alerted and I made the run to
  retrieve him.  He refused .  . ." 'I know, I know,' and Perizec flicked
  thick fingers to end the recital.  'He must return.  The duty is
  required of him.  We cannot avoid the choosing." He frowned, deep in
  thought.  'See to it that the crew who arranged his deportation are sent
  to the same destination. They will ensure that he is ready to be
  collected when next you land there." 'A thought, sir,' Lenvec began,
  "Catteni would not be popular on the planet and may even be prevented
  from finding Zainal." Perizec regarded him with a direct anger. "Zainal
  survived.
  You said yourself that he was the member of some sort of team." Len-
  vec
  shrugged.  'Zainal is, after all, Emassi, sir, and as clever a man as
  you yourself .  .  ." Perizec grunted at the filial compliment. "He is
  
  will see to it that he is willing to leave when next you land."
  "Am I to transport them there?"
  "By no means.  That would put Zainal on his guard.  When is the next
  mass transportation scheduled?"
  Lenvec consulted his wrist unit.  'In twenty-two days."
  "Choose the men .  .  ' 'A female, too, sir, if I may suggest it. He's
  been a long time without .  .  .  companionship." 'An excellent notion,'
  and Perizec grinned back at his son.
  You have someone in mind?" Lenvec nodded.  'They will all be re-
  warded."
  He reached to the files and methodically began stacking them in order
  as
  he continued speaking.  'This must be completed as expeditiously as
  possible.  I have told the Eosi that Zainal was sent on a special
  assignment and is unaware of their need of him.  We have been granted
  a
  
  disaster and disgrace to every blood relation.
  "Keep me informed, Lenvec,' Perizec told his son by way of dismissal.
  As Lenvec saluted formally, pivoted smartly and left the office, Perizec
  began to consider how to punish the stupidity of a mere freighter crew
  who had presumed to place an Emassi among transported dissidents.
  He
  enjoyed deciding on the exact and perfect punishment for their
  presumption and shortly was able to issue the necessary orders. Once
  the
  rumour was circulated, few Tudo or Drassi would dare to repeat such
  treatment, no matter what the cause.  That this abrogated one of the
  main tenets of Catteni discipline did not bother Perizec.  But then his
  rank had some privileges, and he exercised all frequently.
  As he was supposed to do, the Deski immediately informed the camp
  leader
  what he had heard on the height above Camp Rock.
  
  which Worrell was now accustomed to.  'You mean, not a Drop?" Coo
  shook
  his head and then nodded, to be sure he was understood.
  Worrell sighed with relief.  The damned Catteni had speeded up their
  deposits of Colonists' over the past month to the point where there was
  barely time to assimilate each new delivery.
  "No Drop.  No long down.  Come,' and Coo gestured with his thin,
  oddly-knuckled digits, swooping them down to close with his other hand,
  then pause briefly before elevating it again.  'Go.
  Soft." And now he put a hand to his ear and pretended to listen hard.
  Instantly Worrell began to fret.  His nickname 'Worry' was less a
  contraction of his surname and more a description of his chief trait.
  "A quick Drop, then.  A few people at the most.  Only what kind?" he
  asked himself more than Coo.  'Nearby?" 'Not near-near." Coo dropped
  his
  head, orienting himself, then shifted his feet slightly to the right so
  
  Now Coo extended both long, doublejointed arms, kept the right one
  facing due north and angled his left arm almost due west.  'There. Not
  near-near." 'Really?" Worry rose and patted Coo's bony shoulder. "Real
  good, Coo.  Thanks."
  "Good job done?"
  "Beaus job, Coo." Worrell turned up the light so that he could see the
  map hung on his wall.  Much of the continent it represented was still
  blank but, over the past few wintry months, details had been added by
  scouting teams.  'If we're here, Coo,' and Worrell put his finger on the
  cave system of Camp Rock, 'how far west?" Coo extended his head to-
  wards
  the map on a neck that seemed elastic, put one digit on the Camp and
  then slid it in the appropriate direction.  'No more far." 'Really?"
  Worrell felt anxiety bloom in his gut.  The point Coo had indicated was
  where Zainal and his team had met the scout ship: the one sent to take
  him back to his duties as a Catteni Emassi.  'Thanks, Coo.  You'd best
  get back on duty."
  "I got' And the Deski slipped quietly from the room.
  
  one
  for some purpose .  .  .  like getting in touch with Zainal again .  . .
  they'd have had a welcome they didn't expect.
  "Serve 'em right, too,' Worrell said, though he was not by nature a
  vindictive man.  In a considerably more cheerful mood, he returned to
  his bed and went soundly back to sleep.
  Worrell would like to have had Zainal to send down to investigate the
  reported landing, but he and Kris Bjornsen were out with their team on
  another long scouting trip: looking for more caves, barns or rocky
  terrain to house the settlers continuously supplied them by the Catteni.
  So he sent for Mic Rowland, one of the Fifth Drop group. He'd been a
  stunt-man for the movies and could be trusted to observe, be discreet
  and get himself and a team out of trouble.  Worry told him about the
  late-night landing, and where Coo had thought the ship had touched
  down.
  "If a Deski said it landed there, we'll find some signs." Mic was far
  too accustomed to working with all-sorts, as he called them, not to
  appreciate talent wherever it was found.
  
  breakfast line whose new-looking coveralls marked them as the latest
  Drop.  He did let them eat first before he took them off.
  Worrell knew the trip would do them good.  So many got to Botany still
  full of their Earthside sabotage activities, and how many Cats they'd
  injured or killed and other kinds of derringdo?  so that they needed to
  be taken down a few pegs to the realities of Botany. Fortunately, more
  were adapting well to the new world than Worry would have expected.
  What caused the Australian - and the other Camp managers - concern,
  was
  the indisputable fact that the Catteni were making more frequent
  deposits of dissidents.  Zainal had been surprised too and had
  suggested, slyly, that it was because Earth was showing far more
  rebellion than any other race the Catteni had subjugated.  So there were
  more rebels to be exiled.  So far the colony had been able to absorb
  both quantities and alien species, though they had followed Zainal's
  suggestion to let the belligerent and uncooperative Turs go off on their
  own in the small groups in which they arrived.  However, the population
  of Botany had risen from the original Drop of 572 to nearly 9,000.
  
  would be instantly noticed.  So far Zainal remained the only one of his
  race resident on Botany.  And he had barely escaped being killed that
  first day which was fortunate since he had proved so helpful in the
  early Drop, and ever since: even to rejecting a chance to leave.
  Mic Rowland returned with enough game to justify the hunt.
  Dismissing his weary group, he caught Worrell's glance, jerked his head
  towards Worrell's office on the height and moved quickly to join the
  Camp manager there.  He dropped the rocksquats with the cooks, but
  not
  the sack in his right hand.
  Once they were private, Mic upended the sack on the table and grinned
  at
  Worrell's surprise.
  "Boots?"
  "That was all that was left.  And not the same sort they issued us,' Mic
  said, 'much better made.  And this." He took from his chest pocket a
  
  revealing its contents to Worrell.  'This looks like a drug injector."
  He opened the other, which contained two small vials.  'And the drugs."
  'Drugs?  Yes, well, I'll give that stuff to Dane." Worrell counted eight
  boots in an effort to defuse his mounting anxiety. "Dropped a team, did
  they?  To do what?" Though he had an awful suspicion his first guess
  might prove correct.  Would Mic know?
  Mic shrugged.  'You been here longer.  An educated guess would be
  they
  were after Zainal." When he caught Worrell's sharp look, he grinned.  'I
  heard.  Damn few would have stayed if they had a chance to leave."
  "Hmmm.  No other .  .  .  remains?"
  Mic shook his head.  'Some bits of metal, probably from whatever they
  were wearing, but even Catteni material is edible to the crawlers.
  Boots are just a touch too tough for 'em." And he flicked his fingers at
  one.  'Big mothers wore 'em.  Big even for Catteni.  They have goon
  squads, too." 'One pair is much smaller.  Would they have sent a
  woman
  
  of them.  Many disapproved of her liaison with Zainal but no-one, other
  than Dick Aarens, had the gall to complain or dispute it.
  "Thanks, Mic.  Did the others notice?"
  "Couldn't fail to, not with those empty boots scattered around. I don't
  think the newbies noticed that the footwear isn't the same stuff we
  have.  So I'm reporting a missing patrol to you.
  Right?" 'Too right,' Worrell said, 'and I trust you rammed home the
  lesson?" 'Never miss an opportunity like that, Worry." And Mic left with
  a big grin on his face.
  Worrell made a mental note that Mic was ready for more responsibility.
  First he dialled Zainal's team number for them to report in, then he got
  in touch with Chuck Mitford.
  "Well, put 'em in a safe place, Worry,' Mitford said, 'until either
  Zainal or I can have a look-see.  Just give the medical junk to Dane; he
  might know what it is and maybe have a use for it.
  
  "Sure don't, Sarge."
  Worrell grinned at the comment.  In one of the recent drops there had
  been several ax-admirals, ax-generals and assorted other brass, most
  of
  whom - when they had had a chance to recover from the trials of their
  journey - were quite willing to refer respectfully to Mitford as
  'Sergeant'.  Most .  .  .  and those who didn't soon learned how much
  was owed that 'sergeant', or found themselves settling into perhaps less
  amenable camp sites.  No-one - except someone on sick call - shirked
  assigned duties, and everyone took a turn at hunting, preparing food,
  sentry and whatever other duty they were thought capable of managing.
  When he hadn't anything else to fuss about, though, Worrell worried that
  some sort of high-level executive-type consortium might try to bounce
  Mitford out of his current eminence.  Of course, if Mitford decided on
  his own hook to step down, that had to be entirely his option.  So far,
  Mitford's management - and he had listened to suggestions from just
  about everyone in the first couple of Drops - had worked pretty damn
  well.
  "Sarge, should we worry about human infiltrators?" he asked, hoping to
  
  brief pause.  'Worry, you don't actually believe any human being would
  work with the Catteni, do you?" 'There've been traitors, renegades,
  spies, quislings in every war, Sarge.  Why not this one?" Mitford cursed
  briefly, but colourfully.  'You could be right.
  Damn it!  Only why send in infiltrators by special delivery?  You could
  as easily send 'em in a regular Drop.  Anyway, why mess us up? Zainal
  says the Catteni prefer colonies to prosper so they can come in and
  take
  over when one gets going wells Pause.
  "Furthermore,' and Mitford's tone was adamant, 'they'll have their work
  cut out for them if they try that tactic on my planet." Nor would anyone
  dispute Mitford's use of the possessive pronoun.
  "We'd be with you four hundred percent, Sarge."
  Another brief pause.  'I'll tell Easley we'd better be double careful
  checking IDs on the next Drops.  Right?" With that he cut off, leaving
  Worrell not quite as anxious as he had been: no-one was going to take
  over 'my planet'.  He grinned at the outrage in Mitford's voice. Scouts
  
  and needing counselling.  He'd deferentially organized additional men
  and women experienced in crowd control and personnel handling, and
  passed on recommendations of other specialists that Mitford might want
  to interview himself.  Mitford turned the whole problem of Drops over to
  Easleyand the complexity of Resettlement - another of Easley's sensible
  recommendations to Yuri Palit, previously a UN resettlement manager
  for
  displaced persons. There were now enough degree engineers, aviation
  and
  production line mechanics and inventor-types to keep Aarens from get-
  ting
  cocky while speeding up their output.
  With enough hand-held communication units available, scouting teams
  could report in to Mitford on any unusual occurrences, as Worrell had
  just done, and the sergeant had actually been able to keep 'business
  hours'.
  "I'll get enough time yet,' Mitford had recently confided to Worrell on
  a trip through Camp Rock to Camp Silo, 'to lead a recon group myself."
  'Is that what you'd really like to do?" Worrell had asked, since it was
  
  more bases, especially to replace Camp Rock which was established
  just
  above a deep gorge that showed the scars from centuries of spring
  flooding.  Zainal and Kris Bjornsen were on just such a scouting mission
  now, hoping to find a site that was not an installation of the Mech
  Makers' or the 'Farmers', as many people were beginning to call them
  because of the agricultural emphasis of the planet.
  Worrell packed the boots back into the sack, but he peered more closely
  at the plate.  There did seem to be round indentations on one end:
  possibly touch points.  He counted nine - as many as a numeric pad,
  and
  was sorely tempted, but decided against any whimsical experimentation.
  He'd sent out the recall sequence and Zainal and Kris should be back in
  a few days.
  **
  * The team were at that time in a state of exultation, for they had
  managed to complete a difficult ascent up an irregular cliffmass and now
  looked down into a long valley that bore no traces of the neatness which
  
  stony barrier.
  "That's not the kind of rock that water erodes,' Whitby said.
  "It was carved somehow." The second curiosity was that, in Whitby's
  estimation, the high mound of rubble that barred their way could not
  have been caused by a natural landslide or depression, and he called
  their attention to the top of the cliffs which did look shorn.
  "Could have been an earthquake,' Kris had suggested.
  "We've seen no other subsidence on our way here,' Basil Whitby had
  said,
  shaking his head and glancing along the cliffs on either side. "Not a
  landslide, not with that kind of stone." Then he grimaced at the tumbled
  rocks of the barrier.
  "Don't see any kind of a road leading up here,' said Sarah, swinging
  around to be sure.
  "As if mechanicals left any tracks with those air cushions,' Joe Marley
  
  "There have to be other animals than loo-cows, rocksquats,
  night-crawlers and those vicious avians.  Even I know that much about
  ecological balance." 'Maybe,' and Leila Massuri's tone was cautious,
  'that barrier's there for a good reason." She and Whitby were the new
  members of the Kris-Zainal team.  Leila contributed
  _d
  more to the pot with her crossbow prowess than to discussions.
  "Keeping something in?  Or out?" Joe asked, accepting the premise.
  "We find out,' said Zainal and began to pass out appropriate equipment
  for scaling the barrier.  Though the air cushion of their all-terrain
  vehicle allowed it to traverse very rough ground, the gradient of the
  rocky obstacle in front of them was too acute.
  They were far better equipped now for explorations that they had been
  in
  the initial days after being dumped on Botany.  Leila slung her crossbow
  
  as well as boomerangs, a type of equipment that was becoming more
  popular; Fek and Slav armed themselves with lances and hatchets.
  They
  all carried blanket rolls and a small sack with food and water.
  The climb up the irregular and often shifting cliff-side had taken most
  of the morning, but the view at the top was more than worth the effort.
  Below them lay a peaceful valley, obviously undisturbed by the
  agricultural mechanicals that dominated the slopes behind them.  At the
  narrow end of the valley they could see a distant waterfall, its descent
  a murmur as it fell into a small lake.  The stream leading from it
  meandered down the far, lower side of the valley and blundered into the
  cliff, answering the question of its origin.  The valley floor was
  interspersed with flat grasslands and some of the odd-looking thickets
  that in their season would bear edible berries.  But the most unusual
  feature was the little groves of what Kris called lodge-pole trees:
  straight tall trunks that flattened at the very top into a thick, flat
  crest of narrow branches fanning out, and were covered in needles
  during
  the warmer weather.  Specimens did grow in some of the hedgerows
  that
  
  'I wonder what else we'll find down there." 'Why, there's space for
  hundreds here,' she said, ignoring his implicit pessimism.
  "Hmmmm,' Zainal murmured, obviously sharing Joe's caution.
  "Slav?" he asked the Rugarian, who was shielding his eyes as he sur-
  veyed
  the valley.
  Slav shrugged.
  "Fek?" Zainal turned to the Deski, the only one who showed no exertion
  from the difficult ascent, but the Deskis were such natural climbers
  that Kris had wondered if their home planet was nothing but
  perpendicular surfaces.  Actually, their oddlyshaped hands and the
  soles
  of their feet became slick with a sort of adhesive substance which gave
  them purchase on sheer surfaces, and their unusually jointed arms and
  legs permitted them to assume postures that would have broken human
  limbs.
  
  carried, rubbed the sweat off his face and followed.
  Fek found the easiest descent for the rest of the party, zigzagging down
  some of the sheerer boulders which she would have managed quite
  easily
  with her natural advantages.  But she, too, stopped where sheer-sided
  stone angled sharply outward.
  "I'd say that looks like something was meant to stay in there,' Kris
  said.
  "Twenty-five metres slanted at fifteen degrees or more,' said Whitby.
  'So we rappel down." He unloosed his pick, found a piton and started
  hammering it in while Zainal removed the coil from his shoulder to rig
  it for the drop.
  Once again, Kris thought as she took her turn at the descent, that silly
  survival course comes in handy in my new life on Botany. All of them,
  even Fek, grinning for all she was worth as she rappelled, made it
  safely to the floor of the valley.
  
  sun shines.  Me, I'm for that stream." One bend of the meandering water
  was not far from them and, though Leila did not put up her crossbow,
  they all approached the stream.  Sarah, as team medic, used one of the
  testing strips on a cup-full.
  "Potable,' she said and dipped her cup back in to bring it full to her
  mouth, though she sipped carefully.
  The other humans did likewise, then rinsed their sweaty faces in the
  cooling water.  Fek and Slav, who never seemed to need much water,
  remained alert, listening and looking for any dangers unseen from the
  height.  Then both knelt to take a sample mouthful directly from the
  stream, as they preferred to drink.
  "This place looks almost too good to be true,' Sarah said, breaking off
  a branch from a nearby shrub and smelling it.  'One of the burnables,
  and growing all over the place,' she said with an expansive gesture of
  her hand up the length of the valley.
  They could just make out the waterfall through the copses of lodge-pole
  trees.  'Plenty of stone, too, ready to build from,' she added, jerking
  
  musical.  She gazed around her with an almost dreamy smile on her
  unusual face.  Maltese by birth, but with both parents of mixed blood,
  she had been corralled by the Catteni in a demonstration raid in
  Marseilles.  'So why was it blocked off?" 'We look closer,' Zainal said,
  pointing at Joe, Sarah and Whitby.  'You go right with Slav,' he said.
  'Rest of us go left and meet at falls." Zainal gestured for Fek and the
  rest to accompany him as he waded across the stream, not more that
  knee-height at this point.  Once on the other side, they spread out in a
  loose line, checking the ground, noting which of the low bushes would
  bear fruit in season and generally sizing up the environment.
  "No rocksquats.  That's odd,' Kris said when they had beentravelling a
  few moments.  She pointed to rockyprojections where the stupid crea-
  tures
  would be likely to perch, since they enjoyed the sun.
  "There were some,' Zainal said, and pointed to a little heap of bones
  just visible through the branches of a low shrub.
  "No night-crawlers then,' Leila Massuri said with a shudder.
  
  camped in the vehicle or on rock heights to avoid earth-bound
  scavengers.
  "Things do die of old age or of falling off high places,' suggested
  Leila.
  "This stream gets swollen, to judge by the height of these banks,' Kris
  said, pointing to them.
  "Spring melt,' Whitby said.  They could not see the higher ranges, now
  hidden by the unbroken line of cliff surrounding this valley; mountains
  which were snow-clad all year round.
  Sarah McDouall had quipped that it must have annoyed the mechani-
  cals to
  have so much unusable uphill land.  Whitby's face had had a hungry
  look
  on it as he surveyed the towering peaks.
  "Never did get to the Himalayas,' he had murmured, 'but those bugger-
  s'd
  
  "Big,' Kris remarked, and looked around the glade.
  Zainal picked up the desiccated patty and dropped it into the sack he
  kept for fire makings.  Then they all continued on their sweep, more
  vigilant now.  More dried dung was found, but all examples seemed to
  be
  old and Kris was somewhat reassured.
  "Reminds me of a place I went to once in Yellowstone Park,' she said
  when they reached the far side of the valley and its stony barrier.
  Craning her head she peered upward, looking for cave entrances, but
  saw
  nothing, not even a ledge to give access to even the most agile
  creature.  'We could use this wall for backing and build outward,' she
  said.  'If we could get one of the vehicles to manoeuvre through the
  pass, so we could transport all that stone someone dumped across it."
  'We'd need explosives to move the lower rank,' Whitby said.
  "They were planted there to stay." 'To keep what in?" asked Kris with a
  shiver for whatever that might be.
  
  Despite that consideration, she found herself looking for likely home
  sites.  Imagine, a proper house at ground level .  .  .
  maybe even steps-to a sleeping loft .  .  .  one with plenty of head
  room.  She glanced over at Zainal's large figure quartering the ground
  ahead, searching, searching.  Considering how much time he'd spent in
  space, he seemed completely at ease on planetary surfaces.  He looked
  over his shoulder and beckoned for her to join him.
  More bones, larger ones this time.
  "A six-footed animal.  Too small for loo-cow,' and he held up what
  looked like a handful of thigh bones, then a smaller one that fitted
  neatly into a clean socket.  He rubbed his fingers across the bones.
  'Chewed, too." He pointed to obvious toothmarks.  'Wouldn't want to
  meet
  that on a dark night!" Kris grinned, as much for his use of the slang
  expression as for a sentiment she could immediately share.
  He fiddled with the bones, making her hold the front set of legs, trying
  
  other carnivores for ecological balance." He picked up a fragment of the
  cranium and tapped it.  'Hmmm.  Thick.  And yet crushed like a melon.
  Wouldn't like to meet what did it." 'A sentiment we all share,' Kris
  remarked dryly, letting the bones fall out of her hands. Several smaller
  ones shattered.  'Been here a long time if they're that brittle."
  "Hmmmm,' was the response from Zainal and Whitby.
  "Caves, possibly?" Zainal added.
  "Haven't seen any yet,' Kris said cheerfully, and then Zainal had them
  spread out again to search.
  Though they came across more scattered bones, some in advanced
  states of
  decay, nothing else came to light.  They reached the lake first, as the
  other scouts were finishing their explorations of the other side which
  was wider at the point.
  Suddenly Joe let out one of his ear-splitting Australian howls and
  gestured broadly for them to come on the double to the cliff wall where
  
  "I don't like the look of this,' doe said, holding aside branches so
  that the skeleton grotesquely draped on the scattering of rocks could be
  seen.
  "It's human,' Sarah said.  'Or was." She was pale under her tan.
  Kris peered briefly, enough to see that the skull was human but not all
  the rest of it.  No leg- or arm-bones, just the torso.
  Slav and Fek looked and nodded.
  "Bird,' Fek suggested, gesturing the swoop of the predatory avians.
  "Could be." Joe cleared his throat and let the bushes fall back.
  Suddenly everyone was craning their necks back to scan the top of the
  precipice.
  "Ah, they'd have attacked before now if they were nearby,' Joe said.
  'You haven't heard anything, have you, Fek?" he asked
  
  "We found some lots of other bones, all old, some even partially
  embedded in the dirt,' said Joe.  He sighed as he let his gaze rove
  across the valley.  'Too bad.  It'd be a great place to set up a
  permanent headquarters." Zainal was shading his eyes from the now
  noon-high sun to look at the straight cliffs that formed the boundaries.
  He shook his head.  'We must know why,' and he pointed back to the
  barred pass.  He clapped his big hands together, startling everyone so
  that he grinned.  'There are fish in stream.  Let's catch and eat.  We
  have time." So far all the brook and lake denizens had been edible, with
  the one exception of a multi-legged bottom-hugging worm that appeared
  only in stiller water and was toxic.
  The dung that had been collected gave off such a stench that they
  doused
  the fire with water and started a new one in a fresh place, using
  windfall branches.  Whitby rivalled everyone else by catching the
  orange-gray scaled fish with his bare hands.
  Everyone ate their fill, and there was enough cooked left over to save
  for the next day.
  
  least three syllables twit, sounded again, this time with a hint of
  impatience.  Instantly Worrell reached for the pouch in which he had put
  the thin plate that Mic Rowland had discovered.
  "How did Leon say you operated one of these things?" Worrell whis-
  pered
  at Chuck.
  Chuck took the object from his second-in-command and depressed the
  first
  button.  'Tikso dams.  Chouma,' he said in a guttural voice as if he
  were expectorating rather than speaking.
  He put the unit down on the table beside them and glared at it.
  "Didn't know you spoke any Catten, Sarge,' said Worrell, impressed.
  "Whoever it is wants a report.  I told him later.  And to be quiet,'
  said Chuck Mitford.  'At least, I hope that's what he'll understand I
  said.  Where's Zainal?"
  
  back."
  Leon Dane was on duty, but not occupied, when Mitford and
  Worrell went to the infirmary caverns.  He had already been given the
  injector and drugs, but had put them aside until Zainal could tell him
  what he might know about the contents of the vials.
  "So someone's looking for those the midnight beasties ate up for us,'
  Leon said with a faint grin.  'Someone forgot to brief the landing party
  about Botanical life-forms.  And Zainal went to such trouble to give 'em
  a demonstration.  Served 'em right.
  D'you think they were here to collect Zainal?" 'Only reason I can think
  of for them to send four,' Chuck Mitford said with a snort.
  "That wouldn't have been enough of a guerrilla gang to do doodly
  against
  us, but sufficient to snatch a man.  Zainal did mention that he was
  wanted back home for a duty of some sort he'd rather avoid.  Maybe
  they
  
  "I doubt it." 'Then let's say that they're hiding out.  Haven't located
  Zainal .  .  .  no, make that target personnel." 'Emassi?" Worrell
  suggested and Chuck nodded agreement to the change.
  Leon scribbled what looked like hieroglyphics on a sheet of paper.
  "You can write it, too?" Worrell asked, impressed.
  "A little,' Leon said with a wry grin.  In his professional capacity as
  a surgeon working on injured Catteni under the eyes of their medics, he
  had been in a very good position to pick up the language as well as aid
  the subversive elements in Sydney.
  "Most of what I learned is either medical or military.  I can't ask for
  my aunt's pen on the table or order a meal.  But I can spout real good
  Emassi-like orders." He scribbled something else, this time in English.
  "How does this sound, Sarge?: "Emassi not here.
  Moving to find.  Report tomorrow this time.  Do not contact."'
  
  grinning.  Then he sobered, depressed the appropriate 'seed' stud and,
  with his free hand clutching at his throat, growled out the message in a
  hoarse whisper.
  He released the stud, counting.  Then he shrugged, depressed the stud
  and repeated the message.  This time a single word answered his effort.
  "What was that?" Chuck asked.
  Leon gave them a conspiratorial grin.  's'Kotik''.  Means "Accept".
  Nothing about doing a good job or anything, but Catteni don't expect
  thanks, do they?" He handed the unit back to Chuck Mitford, and they
  were starting back down when he had a sudden thought.
  "Hey, maybe I should have sounded feminine.  You did say you think
  one
  of the victims was a female?" 'One set of boots was much smaller,'
  Worrell said.  'But,' and he scrubbed his head, 'I don't think women
  lead many Catteni commando units." 'No,' and now Chuck's tone was
  smug,
  
  more skeletons were found, gleaming white bones in the shallows
  among
  the thick water reeds that grew there.
  "That does it,' Sarah announced, refastening her coverall.
  "Makes me wonder what the fish we ate had for lunch."
  Leila looked slightly nauseous.
  "Sarah!" Kris exclaimed.  Medics often displayed a ghoulish sense of
  humour.  She did have to swallow before she added, 'We'd better see
  what
  kind these are." Zainal waded in to fetch some of the nearer skeletons
  which were identified as loo-cow, rocksquat, Turs and another human
  skull, still partly attached to its neck.  It was Leila who found the
  odd scales and quills.  No-one had taken any more than a glancing look
  skywards for any hovering avian predators, but everyone agreed they
  didn't seem to be feathered so perhaps they used the lake for bathing or
  removing damaged parts in a grooming ritual.
  
  So they put out the fire and retraced their steps to the barrier.
  "Start up,' Zainal told the other.  'Whitby, with me.  I look closer at
  stream .  .  ." The two trotted down to the other end of the valley.
  Kris, Leila and Slav made the first ascent on the ropes. When Kris
  gratefully reached the top, she could see Zainal and Whitby having quite
  a gawk where the stream went through the bluff.  The water boiled up
  over whatever outlet there was, for its flow made a wide pond at cliff
  base.  She wondered what Zainal had hoped to learn from scrutiny.
  As soon as Fek, Sarah and Joe joined them, they continued on up the
  cliff, reaching the top just as Zainal and Whitby surmounted the slanted
  barrier and began to unhitch the rappel equipment.  The others started
  down to the vehicle, but Kris waited for Zainal and Whitby.
  "Well?" she asked as Zainal pulled himself up beside her.
  "Something could swim through underneath,' he said.
  
  face.
  He looked back down at the daunting rock-face.  'If whatever it was had
  nothing left to eat, even the fish, possibly it would take such a risk.
  But I would still rather not meet whatever it was.  Let's take a look at
  that aerial .  .  ."
  His words were broken off by the loud buzz of Zainal's
  portable.
  "Worrell here.  You guys all right?" The Aussie was shouting into the
  speaker.
  "Yes, all right.  Deep in a valley all day,' Zainal explained.
  i !
  "Oh.  Well, a problem dropped in here the other night,' he said.
  "And you're needed back as fast as you can make it, Zainal." 'What sort
  of problem?" Zainal asked, but Kris thought from the twinkle in his eyes
  
  on the portable that was about all that was left of them .  .
  .  bar the shoes.  Leon told whoever called that you weren't here and
  they were still looking."
  "You want me to give myself up?"
  If Zainal hadn't been grinning like a loon, Kris would have gasped.
  "Hell no, Zainal,' and Worrell's tone was indignant.  'Chuck's got an
  idea." 'I wonder if we have same one,' Zainal said, winking at Kris.
  "We come as fast as possible."
  "Find anything good?"
  "Tell you when we get there." Worrell disconnected and Zainal replaced
  the unit in its pouch, fastening the flap.
  "Should I know what I just heard?" Whitby asked respectfully, but his
  curiosity was apparent.
  
  to be abducted by stealth.  They had reached the ground now.
  "We go back to Camp as fast as we can,' Zainal said.
  "We're five days' away,' Joe protested.
  "We took side trips up here,' Zainal reminded him.  'We take turns.
  Drive all night."
  "Hey, it sounds important."
  "Dirty work with cross feet?" asked Zainal.
  "Cross roads,' Kris corrected, in spite of realizing that he was being
  deliberately obtuse.
  "Sticky wicket, huh?" Joe said and neatly finished re-coiling the ropes.
  'Let's move out.  I'll drive first.  I've had a breather." Both Slav and
  Fek liked to stand up in the front of the load bed of the vehicle,
  hanging on to the frame, staying alert and watchful.
  
  They arrived back in Camp Rock by sunset of the next day, having
  pushed
  the vehicle to the limits of its panel-supplied power.  Joe was of the
  opinion that the two full moons had been bright enough to keep the
  power
  levels high, but Whitby and Leila had argued the point.  It made an
  interesting discussion during the long hours of the trek, when they
  halted only long enough for natural requirements and to bag a few
  rocksquats.
  Joe turned out to be correct about additional power, though the vehicle
  had slowed down considerably.
  The sentry hailed them on their approach and rang the bell so that
  Worrell and Mitford were awaiting them in the parking area, one of
  Camp
  Rock's newer amenities.  A big haulier and a small runabout, reserved
  for Mitford's use, occupied the space.
  "We heard the transport,' Zainal said as he swung down from the
  driver's
  
  "We'll just unpack,' Joe said tactfully and gestured to the others.
  Zainal caught Kris's arm as Mitford and Worrell started up the stone
  steps that led to the height's office.  The two-roomed stone building
  had been built on a levelled-off area, well above any spring flood that
  might rampage down the gorge that split Camp Rock.  Aerials and solar
  panels were attached to the slated roof of the good-sized facility.  A
  desk, occupied as much by Mitford as Worrell in his capacity as Rock's
  manager, commanded a view down the length of the camp from the
  main
  wmdow.  From the other, smaller one, the view was across sloping
  stone
  to the first of the Farmers' fields.
  who was to report." Zainal shook his head, his expression inscrutable.
  'I said,' and he put one hand on his windpipe to alter the sounds he
  made: '"Mektichak Zainal obli.  Tik escag eridi.
  Tikso tag"." He removed his hand to speak less growlingly.
  
  exactly what they will believe.  Where is the unit?" Leon slid it out of
  a chest pocket.  'Since I'm the only one who knows enough Catten to
  answer, I've been in charge of it." The communicator looked much
  smaller
  in Zainal's large hands and could be slipped into a pocket or down a
  boot.-He examined it carefully, his smile broadening agaih.
  "This is very good.  Very good,' and Zainal's eyes sparkled with Mitford
  gestured for all to sit on the stools and benches amused triumph.
  provided.  'Leon's coming,' he added.  'Lemme fill you in." Zainal
  nodded.
  "The unit buzzed off shortly before we heard the transport angling in
  for a landing." 'Usual field?" Zainal asked.
  Mitford nodded.  'They've got that much right at any rate.
  Leon got a message that suggested the commando group was to meet
  with
  the transport and deliver your unconscious body.
  
  Emassi made.  So I adopted a hoarse whisper in case it was the female
  "These were found in a boot,' and Dane very carefully laid the other
  three items on the table.
  Zainal held one vial up to the light and snorted.  'Vikso.  In very
  small doses, it will be useful to you, Dane.  Makes muscles weak,' and
  he pretended to sag like a limp string puppet before he handed it back
  to the surgeon.
  So, they knew they'd have to knock you out,' said Chuck Mitford, tipping
  back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest.  'Care to tell
  us why they'd go to this much trouble over you?" Zainal chuckled again,
  still very pleased, and seeming to ignore the question.
  "This will be useful,' he said and waggled the unit before replacing it
  carefully on the stone slab that was the sergeant's worktop.  'Now we
  can set traps.  Two would be the most we could get." 'Two ships?" Kris
  caught on first, though Mitford's chair returned to all four legs as he
  leaned across the desk, looking so eager and hopeful that Kris caught
  her breath.
  
  us.  They must land silent,' and he dropped his voice to a dramatic
  whisper, 'with no lights, and walk to edge of field to help you move
  captured Zainal."
  "But I don't know enough Catten."
  "You will when you send message,' Zainal said, and the look he gave
  her
  told her she was in for it now, but she managed a grin.  After all,
  she'd been teaching him English: turnabout was fair play.  'You will
  have made my capture." The?" Kris looked around the room at the oth-
  ers,
  grinning at her almost maliciously.  'Cut it out, you guys,' she said
  with an edge to her voice.
  "At ease, Kris,' Mitford said, understanding her flare of resentment,
  and then focused his attention back on Zainal.
  There was no question that the sergeant would do much to possess a
  useful space-ship, but he was not totally reassured by such sketchy
  details.  'So you get them out of the scout, and preferably disposed of
  
  to make them believe what will happen next." He turned to Kris. "You
  will manage to make one more message .  .  .  and then .  .  ." He slid
  one finger across his throat and grinned.
  "You overpower us again?" Kris rolled her eyes incredulously.
  "Boy, will they buy that?" 'Buy it?" Zainal asked.  His command of idiom
  and grammar was increasing, but was not yet as good as his accent.
  "Believe it,' she substituted, and Zainal grinned.
  "On Barevi I showed you I am difficult to catch."
  Uris laughed.  'All right.  So I manage a message out before you
  "And I alter course .  .
  "YOU alter course?" Mitford asked, suspicious, narrowing his eyes and
  staring hard at Zainal.
  "Certainly, so that moon hides ship to get back here." Then Zainal
  
  But taking the spacers is a damned good idea." 'I'll go in your place,
  serge,' said Worrell, raising his hand, his expression avid for the
  experience.  'If I could .  .  ." he added hopefully.  'We don't want
  too many people in on this, do we?" Mitford shook his head, fretting
  over flaws bathe plan, then caught Zainal's eyes again. "Your guys
  won't
  come looking here for the scout?" 'Scout does not leave much trail, and
  they will not be quick to look around here,' and he circled his finger
  in the-air, meaning Botany.  'They will start looking where I have
  friends to hide me.
  If they come back, the scout will be hidden with other metallic stuff at
  Camp Narrow.  It will not be noticed in a scan." Then, after a moment of
  silence when the others were thinking the plan over, he added, 'The last
  place they will look for me is here!" He pointed an emphatic finger at
  the ground as he grinned at them.
  "Well, I'll buy that,' Mitford agreed in a droll tone, with the
  beginning of a smile on his lips.
  "It will work,' Zainal said with such conviction that Mitford began to
  
  'The transport uses only Drassi.  Not Emassi.  The transports that come
  here are all in bad condition." He grinned again.
  "Used over often.  So if the ship explodes after take-off .  .  ." and
  he spread his hands at such a simple ruse.
  "The ship will explode?" Mitford asked, jutting out his chin.
  "An explosion can be made with metal left in space to prove accident.
  That is why it is very necessary to get the scout ship first. It can
  dump garbage into space.  Then, we have two ships."
  "Only one of them is not in good shape,' Mitford pointed out.
  Zainal shook his head in denial.  'Many people here are trained to work
  with machinery.  I am not just pilot.  I know how to . . ." He tapped an
  impatient finger on the worktop as he searched for a word, 'to .  .  .
  repair as well." He grinned.  'I have faith in your people, Mitford.
  Have faith in me." 'Jesus, Zainal, I do, believe me,' Mitford said
  forcefully, slamming both palms flat on the table. "And I think that
  goes for all here." That vote of confidence was immediately seconded.
  
  think they would,' Leon Dane spoke up with a wry grin.  'The Catteni I
  met considered us a short step above aborigines.  Our sabotage and
  revolts are annoyances that will stop when the leaders are all rounded
  up and dropped here." 'Or elsewhere." Zainal disconcerted them all by
  that qualification.  'There are other planets that need to be . . .
  tested for occupation.  Not this one alone.  I do have one worry,' and
  he glanced at Worrell.
  "I'm almost glad to hear that,' Mitford answered drolly.
  "What?" 'That Lenvec, who came in the first scout ship, speaks to a
  higher commander that we have technology not sent with us.
  That this planet is in use.  That is another reason to capture me
  again."
  "How big are the odds he's done that?"
  Zainal looked dubious.  'He can be persuasive but,' and now he gave a
  snort, 'many Catteni believe only what they like to believe."
  
  "Our own exploratory missions?" Mitford asked.
  "I myself will like to know who the other owners are.  Don't you?" and
  Zainal dropped yet another startling proposal.  He grinned.
  "Also, it is not the Catteni who are your real enemy.  It is the Eosi.
  Who farms this planet, who left that command tower, may be stronger,
  wiser and better than Eosi." He leaned back then, watching Mitford's
  expression changing as he absorbed this concept.  'I do not want Eosi
  controlling my people any more.  Or yours.  This is the first time I
  think there is the chance to end Eosi." 'Well, I'll be fucked,' Mitford
  murmured, dropping his shoulders as he relaxed in complete surprise at
  Zainal.  He began to grin and a laugh started in his belly, a laugh that
  was joined by Leon Dane's yowl of approval and Worrell's expression of
  sheer incredulous delight.
  "So that's what you hatched up on the way back here last night,' Kris
  said, eyeing him drolly.
  "Isn't that taking on one helluva lot?" Mitford asked, but the gleam in
  
  "I mean, they may be mad enough at us for what we've already done to
  their neat agricultural enterprise .  .  ."
  "But who put us here in the first place?" asked Kris.  'Only why
  do you have to pretend the transport explodes?  And why do you
  have to be careful returning the scout to Botany?"I "We must joke the
  satellite." 'Joke?" Mitford raised his eyebrows.  'Oh, fool."
  'Satellite?" Worrell exclaimed, anxiously.
  Zainal held up the slim unit.  'They have one because this relays the
  messages.  A satellite is standard for any colony planet.
  It sends in reports.  It must send in the right .  .  .  fool it."
  t ones so we .  .  .  ah
  "Clarify one point for me, will you, Zainal?" Mitford asked and when
  Zainal nodded, he went on, 'Why do they want you so bad for that duty
  
  "Eosi use your body." Then, with a second almost imperceptible change
  which emphatically told Kris that he would not elaborate on that
  subject, he went on, 'So, do we take the scout ship?" His expression
  altered back to his usual bland one as he looked around at the expec-
  tant
  expressions of Kris, Dane and Worrell before settling his gaze on
  Mitford.  'That much is possible, but we must act tonight.
  Kris must learn what to say.
  I need Bert Put and woman.  Is that possible?" 'Can do,' Mitford said
  and reached for the hand-held com, tapping out the code for Camp Nar-
  row.
  "Yo, Latore?  Send Bert Put and Raisha Simonova up here on the dou-
  ble,
  will ye?
  Something's come up.  We need them before .  .  ." he glanced at Zainal
  who held up two fingers, 'second moonrise.  Okay?" Then he paused,
  his
  eyes flickering with rapid thoughts.  'We'll call this Phase One, and
  
  Zainal was in total agreement.
  "Dammit, serge,' said Leon Dane staunchly, 'even the merei, notion of .
  .  .  Phase Three .  .  .  puts heart in me.  Think what it.t
  can do to the general morale?"
  "I do,' and Mitford's voice had dropped to a growl, 'and I don't want
  even a whisper of a happy smile on your faces when you leave here.
  We're doing well enough right now, better all the time, and I don't want
  to have to deal with false hopes.  Let's take it a step at a time."
  "Don't you mean a phase at a time?" Kris asked, stifling a desire to
  giggle.
  Actually she wanted to cheer wildly for the surge of hope that Zainal's
  master-plan had personally given her.  Securing the first ship would be
  a big enough coup.  Hijacking a transport would prove to everyone on
  Botany that they could get their own back on the Catteni.
  
  species that resented having their supply planets taken over by another
  space-faring power, maybe Phase Three would happen.  And both
  Earth and
  Catten might get free of Eosian domination.
  "Right,' and Mitford gave her an odd smile, 'hijacking spaceships sure
  beats sitting around waiting for the next Drop-ins." He caught Zainal's
  eyes and began ticking off details on his fingers.  'You teach Kris what
  to say to get the scout down here by second moonrise?" Zainal nodded.
  'So, if the scout buys it, they come down, leave the ship .  .
  .  only how'll they know you're there to be picked up?  I can't
  volunteer anyone at night out on a field .  .  ." 'Air-cushioned
  vehicles attract no night-crawlers,' Zainal said, grinning.
  "On the way back,' Kris added, 'we found out that the full moon's
  enough
  to keep power up." 'Good point,' and Mitford went on, 'So we've got
  stand-ins far enough up the field .  .  ." 'Vehicle will move towards
  Catteni,' Zainal said, nodding.
  
  "Won't they leave a man on board?" asked Mitford.
  Zainal shrugged.  'I am drugged.  It will take two-three to carry me. If
  is one, once we open hatch, it is over for him." He tapped the knife at
  his belt.
  Mitford made an approving sort of grimace.  'All right .  .  .
  Everything goes according to plan and you, with your crew, take off and
  do your disappearing act.  One small detail.  Kris might be useful to
  lure the pick-up squad down but if you are overcoming a crew, would
  you
  not kill off the female first, the one who drugged you?" Zainal slowly
  nodded his head, perceptive enough to know what Mitford did not spell
  out.  'Leon speaks Catteni.  I cannot talk because they have record of
  my voice.  Leon can give final message." 'point,' end Mitford looked at
  Kris.  'You understand, don't you?" Kris did, and did not bother to hide
  the bitterness she felt for such a suggestion.
  "You will go to space another time,' Zainal told her, looking from
  Mitford to her.
  
  "They need to have a first lesson in flying a scout.  More people who
  know is better." Zainal put an odd smile on his face.  'And soon." 'I'll
  buy that,' said Mitford, shifting his eyes anywhere but in Kris's
  direction.  'Phase One is green for go .  .  .  and definitely top
  security.  Use your team, Zainal for the driving and .  .  .  the
  executions.  Slav and Fek see well in the dark.  I'll send Bert and
  Raisha to you as soon as they get here." Then, in a complete change of
  voice and manner, 'Did your patrol find anything interesting before you
  were recalled for this?" Astonished by that 'business-as-usual' switch,
  even in Mitford, Kris glared at him.
  "A very interesting valley,' Zainal said, rising and popping the unit up
  into his pocket before he picked up the sack of empty boots.
  Leon took charge of the medical items.  'Let Joe and others debrief."
  Then he held out his free hand to'Kris.  'Now, you must to learn to
  speak like Catten female." 'I thought I'd already done that well enough
  to fool a Catten,' she said, cocking her head at him and reminding him
  of the episode when 'she' had suddenly become his 'leaders in front of
  the Emassi.
  
  "After all you've done,' Leon Dane muttered, exiting behind them.
  "Not to worry, Leon,' Zainal said.
  "I do all the worrying,' said Worrell, but his tone made it obvious that
  he felt Mitford's precaution of keeping Kris out of space unnecessary.
  "Don't worry about tonight,' Zainal said- sounding, to Kris's ears, far
  too cheerful considering what he had just set into motion.
  Then Kris found her mind going back to the echo of his colourless voice
  saying, 'Eosi use your body." Small wonder he
  r
  wanted to avoid that duty.  She knew without a doubt that he would
  have
  hated possession.  And yet, his original comment on 'that duty' had
  indicated that it was considered an honour for an Emassi, and one they
  
  Or .  .  .  what?
  "Don't think about it,' Zainal said softly, touching her elbow as they
  reached ground level.  'I do not mean Mitford." Then he hailed the other
  members of their team, obviously waiting a turn to report to Mitford.
  'Go on up.  He's waiting to debrief you." 'We're in our usual abode,'
  Sarah told them as she followed Joe up the steps. "We've already put
  your gear there." 'Good.  We have a small job to do at second moonrise.
  I tell you later." Kris knew Sarah was dying to ask what that was about,
  or why had Dane and Worrell also been in Mitford's office for an
  ordinary scout debriefing.
  "We swim first?" Zainal asked as they made their way to their quarters
  in Michelstown cave.
  "You bet.  I think better cleaner,' Kris said and besides, not only
  could she use the immersion in the cold waters of the lake to reduce her
  anger but she also needed the privacy with Zainal .  .  .  if they had
  the lake to themselves.
  
  l
  i area before emerging to dry each other off.  That led to a chance to
  release tension.  In moments like these, Kris wondered just how much
  Zainal really did deviate - no, differ - from other Catteni and even
  Emassi.  She knew that her association with Zainal was not universally
  accepted.  There were incidents of spitefulness with each new Drop but
  gradually, over the past months, that had altered - with very few
  exceptions - when most Botany settlers learned just how much they
  owed
  to Zainal's presence on the planet.  Xenophobia was not encouraged by
  Mitford or Easley, or any of those involved in introducing the new world
  to its whilom residents.
  Her pleasurable ruminations were rudely interrupted the moment they
  started back up the stairs to the main cavern, as Zainal barked sounds
  at her.
  "We're starting already?"
  
  .  .  though the combination of fricatives was enough to choke her.
  She'd already noticed that characteristic of the Catten language.  Sort
  of like German with a French accent .  .  .
  or maybe guttural French with a very bad German accent, and a little
  Chinese for seasoning.
  She managed to get the first set of syllables to his satisfaction by the
  time they reached the main cavern.  Food was still being served, and
  they stood in line for their portions which they took to the privacy of
  one of the look-out levels, out of earshot from those who were enjoying
  their meal outside in the mild evening.
  Botany's primary had not yet set but the first moon was already above
  the eastern hills, a pale ghost in what was left of sunlight.
  That reminded Kris that time was a constraint.
  Because she had always learned better using visual aids, Kris took a
  
  sound .  .  .  mean."
  "Mean?"
  He growled out the words she now knew meant, 'Report.
  Found Zainal.  He fought hard.  Two dead.  He is drugged.  Land where
  Lenvec did.  No lights.  Meet in field." She tried again, as deep in her
  throat as she could, stillI realizing that even that wasn't perfect.I
  "Look, I'll growl a whisper.  How'll they know the difference?"
  "They might." Then he held up his hand.  'What was it that Leon did to
  sound hoarse?" 'Grabbed his throat,' end doing that, she repeated the
  phrases once again, hoping she wouldn't accidentally strangle herself.
  "That's it,' Zainal said, bringing both his hands together in a clap of
  approval.  'Now, listen .  .  ." and he rattled off a sentence of which
  she understood three words: 'Report' 'dead' and 'land'.
  
  upright with surprise because she knew what that meant.
  "Listen?"
  Zainal grinned with surprise as he nodded.  'Say as harsh as you can
  because you are dealing with a stupid person." 'I heard it said that way
  often enough on Barevi,' Kris said in a rueful tone, and then spat out
  the word with appropriate venom.  Zainal laughed and gave her hand an
  approving squeeze.
  "Just use that tone with all the words and they will not argue
  with you.  You sound almost Emassi.  After "Schkelk", you repeat the
  original message to be sure they heard you right the first time.  Next
  you say "Kotik?" in the way which means they are not to question you
  again?"
  "Got it."
  He drilled her and drilled her until her voice became hoarse enough
  without a need to strangle herself.  She was surprised to see that first
  
  And mouth." He pressed the finger pad and, much too quickly for Kris's
  peace of mind, a voice responded.  Kris gulped and began her
  well-rehearsed message: overriding one question with as harsh a'Sch-
  kelk'
  as she had ever been given.  Zainal nodded assurance, wagging his
  hand
  to reassure that the interruption meant nothing.  She said 'Chouma' as
  nastily as she could and went right into the prepared speech again.  By
  this time she was so scared that her final 'Kotik?" came out every bit
  as savage as the worst Catten guard.
  An almost meek 'Kotik' plus two syllables she didn't understand was the
  response, and Zainal depressed the disconnect button.
  "Baby, you were great!" And Zainal tousled her hair and pressed his
  cheek against hers with great affection.  That had become his special
  caress for her.
  "But what was that last bit?"
  "Your name.  You are, or were, Arvonk."
  
  they get me."
  "In a bigger ship?"
  "The scout is ship enough for this errand."
  "They're NOT getting you!" she said, jumping to her feet.
  "No, they are not,' he agreed equably and took her hand as they made
  their way down and across to Mitford's office.
  ***
  I:
  l
  Mitford must have been watching because the group he had been
  speaking
  to were abruptly dismissed.  Surprised, they passed Zainal and Kris on
  the way up the steps.  Bert Put, his lean face alight with anticipation,
  
  "They come.  Kris spoke like good Emassi." Zainal was grinning with
  obvious pride as he held the door open for her.
  "I had to say it often enough to get it right,' she said gruffly
  and, with instant solicitude, Mitford offered her a cup of the
  herbal tea that everyone had come to enjoy.
  Bert and Raisha came in and took seats, but sitting so tenta- I
  lively that Kris knew they had no idea why they had been
  summoned.
  "Have you spoken to your team yet, Zainal?" Mitford asked.
  "Not yet.  They will do what needs to be done with no
  problems."
  
  Bert's eyes grew rounder and wider, while Raisha watched with
  avid fascination.
  "The interior of a Catteni scout?" Bert asked, incredulous eyes
  on Zainal's face.  'How?" he demanded, and Raisha sat right on
  the edge of her stool.
  "You said nothing to them about Phase One, sergeant?" Zainal
  asked as he continued to detail the layout.
  Kris covered her grin with her hand because Zainal had
  suddenly turned pure-Emassi and Mitford reacted by sitting straight up,
  exactly as a subordinate should.  He did spare one
  droll but respectful look in Zainal's direction before he spoke.
  
  "That would have been their first mistake,' Bert said with a smug grin.
  "Their second was in thinking it would be easy to find Zainal,' Mitford
  said.  'Fortunately night-crawlers left boots and some other inedible
  pieces of equipment.  So we can lure the scout back down." 'You mean,
  like tonight?" Raisha shifted forward on her chair, inhaling with deep
  delight.
  Kris couldn't resist jumping in then.  'I told them to land silently,
  with no lights, to meet me and an unconscious Zainal.
  That I needed help moving him as he'd killed two others trying to escape
  before I could zap him." Raisha looked slightly confused.  'One pair of
  boots was a lot smaller.  Cherchez la femme." 'Oh, gotcha!' Raisha said.
  'Only how do we avoid the nightcrawlers?" - Mitford went through the
  rest of Phase One and the two gave a small round of applause when he
  finished.
  "Look, I did a lot of training but only one short shuttle flight,'
  Raisha began anxiously.
  
  contact,' and he pointed at Kris.  'Maybe not.  So, if we have to get in
  fast and kill, inside is like this." He walked them through the tight
  passageways of the scout ship and then, using the drawings he had
  also
  made of the control panels, talked them through the short preflight
  sequences.  He mentioned the colours of the relevant toggles and drew
  diagrams of the icons above other controls.  They concentrated so hard
  that Kris could almost see them absorb words and drawings into their
  heads.
  "We take Leon who speaks Catten to give last warning of trick by Zainal
  and then .  .  ." Once again he used his finger across his throat and
  grinned.  'I will show you how to circle moon and glide to land." He
  turned to Mitford.  'We hide scout and then I work you hard to learn how
  to pilot Catten vessel." 'You will?" Bert's eyes were nearly popping out
  of theirI sockets, but Raisha assumed an aura of complete calm con-I
  fidence and gave a little sigh. i Zainal had certainly made two people
  very happy.  'Study hard now.  Kris and I prepare our team."
  -
  
  settled silently in the corner of the field.  A brief glint of muted
  light was cut off as the hatch closed.
  Zainal was pretending to be one of his own captors, Kris the other,
  while Leon, being tall, was plainly leaning against Zainal as if
  unconscious.  Joe Marley, face blackened, hunched over the controls of
  Mitford's usual air-cushion machine and eased it forward at a slow
  walking pace.
  The first surprised burst from the Catteni was the signal for Fek and
  Slav to rise from their crouching positions and dispatch both with
  silent lances.  Then Joe increased the power of the vehicle and they
  whizzed down the field to the scout.  Zainal hit the exterior release
  and Bert and Raisha bolted through as soon as the hatch was wide
  enough.
  It was Leon's turn now.
  "Stolix Zainal,' he called out, trying to sound triumphant but listening
  to be sure there was no sound of another person on board.
  Zainal pushed past, knife at the ready, and strode with no stealth at
  
  "Permission given,' Zainal replied and Kris heard the relief ini
  his voice.
  "I just want a quick look,' she said and followed Raisha and Bert down
  the passageway.  She wondered if scout crews were chosen because
  they
  were physically small enough to manoeuvre in such enclosed spaces.
  Zainal certainly had to walk sideways.
  Raisha was already seated in one position, with Bert running his fingers
  lightly across this and that panel as if confirming the briefing Zainal
  had given them.  The look on his face made Kris gulp.
  He was having a hard time believing that he was actually preparing to
  go
  into space again - not as an unconscious passenger this time.  She
  envied them.
  
  Out."
  "Out sounds too much like Kotik, accept."
  "Not to Catteni listener.  Now, out.  The satellite must record the
  take-off." He escorted her down the cramped aisle to the
  l
  hatch, one large hand on her shoulder.  At the hatch, he put his cheek
  against hers, pressing hard against it before he hit the 'open' button.
  Dazed as she was by the night's success and the prospect of being
  without him for a day or two, she remembered to step carefully down
  onto
  the air-cushion platform.  She lifted one hand to her cheek, feeling his
  against hers.
  Joe drove off, and was picking up speed when Fek abruptly shouted,
  'Stop!" Surprised, Joe braked so quickly his passengers had to grab at
  each other to remain upright and in the vehicle.  Fek leaned over the
  
  search at the floor of the vehicle.
  "You see, Slav?" Fek asked, grinning the triangular Deski smile as she
  focused light on the other side of the vehicle, and the other victim.
  "I see.  I get." And Slav made two equally speedy retrievals.
  One he held up for Kris to see in the light, and his smile was the
  broadest she'd yet seen on a Rugarian face.  'Stunner." And in a sud-
  den,
  unexpectedly juvenile manner, he leaned the barrel across his arm and
  made the hissing sound of a stunner blast.
  "Can we leave now?" Joe Marley asked in an edged voice.  He didn't
  wait
  for an answer, pushing the control bar hard over.
  "We could have waited until morning.  Crawlers can't digest metal."
  "I want tonight,' Fek said with uncharacteristic firmness.
  
  , so his presence
  had a certain sobering effect on her.  He gestured for them all to go
  through the silent Camp and up to his office, where he had thoughtfully
  provided beer and the salty pretzel-like snacks.
  Rugarians and Deskis rather liked beer now and then but they were
  careful not to drink much or often.  It had some sort of an effect on
  their metabolism - not a hangover, according to Leon Dane, but some-
  thing
  similar - that they did not cope well with.
  Kris took a long pull on her beer, to settle her stomach, and noticed
  that Joe did too.  Mitford just waited, knowing from the looks of their
  faces that the hijack had been successful.
  "I'd say by now I've been killed and Leon is dying,' she began.
  "Otherwise it all worked out just as we planned .  .  .  with a little
  diversion from Fek and Slav." She shuddered as the two now dropped
  the
  
  "That's the safety on - now - but you guys wouldn't have known." He
  almost patted it when he put it down and took up the other to render it
  harmless.
  "Bert and Raisha looked as if they were having Christmas,' she went on.
  'I had a peek around once Zainal said the coast was clear." Mitford
  nodded, and she went on.  'Rather cramped.
  Good thing Leon isn't an inch taller." Mitford nodded again.
  "He will be back, you know." Mitford nodded once more.
  She finished off the beer, took a handful of the pretzels and stood up.
  'I'm knackered,' she said.  'Good night - and thanks, Joe, Fek, Slav.
  We're the best team on Botany!'
  Mitford nodded.
  It was only when she turned over in her bed that Kris realized she still
  had the comunit.  A lot of good it did her, even if it was a link with
  Zainal up in the scout ship, faking the next step of Phase One.  She
  
  to act in a normal fashion.  To keep out of the way and not
  unintentionally give something away, Kris had to pretend she'd sprained
  her ankle, so Sarah kept getting hot or cold water to reduce the
  swelling.  Joe, Fek and Slav worked on servicing their big exploratory
  vehicle or writing reports.  Leon Dane was reported to have gone off
  with Zainal, Bert and Raisha for some emergency at Shutdown Camp.
  But
  the rumours persisted.
  "We'll still surprise them,' Mitford said as he pulled the little
  air-cushion runabout up against the hedge.  They'd seen a few of the
  avian predators on their way there, so he took what cover there was.
  "I hope."  'We're alone, serge, so I'll give you a piece of my mind on
  that stunt you pulled .  .  ." Kris had the satisfaction of seeing
  Mitford flush with embarrassment.  'You had no right to insult Zainal
  that way .  .  .  and even less right to use me as his surety.
  I came awful close to hitting you .  .  ." She cocked her fist in
  demonstration.
  
  "And I need him more.  We,' and he meant the colony, 'need him more."
  Then, in one of his swift mood changes, he grinned at her, impudent
  and
  oddly melancholy.  'I would have liked to be where he is now with you .
  .  ." He held up both hands quickly in defence.  'Don't take me up
  wrong, Kris.  But you're a fine woman and Zainal's the only man I
  wouldn't try to muscle out." It was Kris's turn to be embarrassed.
  She had vaguely known that Mitford fancied her though, after he kept
  sending her out with Zainal, she had to decide that she had imagined it.
  "I'm sorry, Chuck,' she said, all her previous aggravation dissipating.
  'It sort of happened and you kept throwing me at him .  .
  .  more or less." 'More,' and Mitford let a wry expression touch his
  rough features, 'because I shouldn't.  And you were the only one I could
  trust to keep him alive until the rest of them figured out he was far
  more valuable alive than dead." 'We owe you a lot, serge,' she said and
  touched his arm lightly and gratefully.  'But you still made me real mad
  yesterday." Mitford laughed, stretching his legs out of the side of the
  
  his head slightly to gaze off down the field its ground cover matted
  down by the frequent landings of the transport ship and unconscious
  bodies.  He scratched at his head again and looked back at her.
  "I'd be stupid, real stupid, not to get the strategists in on Phase Two.
  But this first one .  .  .  that,' and he jabbed his thumb into his
  chest, 'was for me!  And you,' he added magnanimously.  'In fact, I'm
  sort of phasing me out."
  "Oh, come now, Chuck .  .  ."
  "No, I mean it, Kris.  We've getting on to eight thousand here now.  I
  knew what I was doing for five hundred and seventytwo, even two
  thousand, but .  .  .  goddammit all, I want to be the one finding the
  good stuff, not leave it up to you and Zainal, or the Doyles or that
  Scandinavian crowd.  Me, Chuck Mitford, wants to have some of the
  fun."
  "Who'll you have on your team?" she asked, as much to cope with his
  surprising announcement.  She knew very well that
  l
  
  gone until I get back.  Frankly, my dear, I'd rather someone else who
  really knows how to plan big pushes carried the can on Phase Two and
  Phase Three.  But you can bet your last nickel, I'll wangle some part in
  it."
  "You wouldn't be you if you didn't."
  "Hell, Kris,' and he was serious again, 'I made a promise to the folks
  when I took command Day One that somehow we'd get free." He looked
  off
  into the distance of morning-mistshrouded fields.  'Free, yes.  Leave?
  I'm not soø'sure about that now." He looked around him at a landscape
  that no longer seemed alien and unreal.
  "I wondered,' she said, encouragingly.
  "If we could come to some sort of an agreement with the landlords,
  either or both, this'd be a great place to build up without all those
  damned minorities on Earth messing up their own landscapes.
  It'd be a fresh start for everyone."
  
  He gave her a narrow-eyed look of pure devilment.
  "Hell, gal, there's at least one more war in this marine.  I'm not at
  all sure of the combat zone or the weapons and you better believe,' he
  waggled his finger at her sternly, 'that I'm not going to be the only
  one to debrief that Zainal, article, clause and all the fine print.
  There's an awful lot we don't know about the Catteni, not to mention the
  Eosi."
  And our landlords, the Farmers."
  They both heard the faint rumbling sound from above, followed by a
  more
  vigorous rustling as Slav, Fek, Joe, Sarah, Whitby and Leila pushed
  through the hedgerows just beyond them.
  Kris managed one startled glance at Mitford, wondering if their very
  private conversation had been overheard.  He winked and pointed to the
  team, who were panting as if they'd been running a good distance.
  "Fek hear,' the Deski said, grinning.  'Scout comes."
  
  "That's handy to know,' said Mitford with an approving grunt, and
  climbed out of the runabout.  He stood, arms crossed on his chest, his
  eyes narrowing as he watched the ship's steady approach.
  Was Zainal piloting, Kris wondered, or had he let Bert?
  Whoever it was made a very neat touchdown about twenty yards from
  the
  onlookers, with a fmal burst of steamy exhaust from the portside
  thruster.  The hatch moved open and Raisha jumped down, grinning
  radiantly.  She snapped a salute to Mitford, which-he returned.
  "Mission accomplished, sir.  All present and accounted for." Then she
  thrust her right arm in the air and let out an exceedingly unmilitary
  yell.
  With everyone else, Kris moved towards her, trying to peer around for a
  sight of Zainal, and Bert too.
  "That Zainal .  .  .  he even let Bert land her,' Raisha cried, shaking
  
  way to avoid it by taking different windows out because it's positioned
  geo-synchronously for this area.  No way of telling how long it's been
  up so it's possible that, even if it was in geosynch with this landing
  area, it might not have seen the Farmers' ships." Kris grinned at
  Raisha, recognizing the high she was on, but she also kept looking for
  Zainal.
  "Oh, he's still explaining some of the timer points to Bert.
  You'll have to drag them out of there,' Raisha said.  'Serge, we got
  good views of the other continents during our landing orbit.  It looks
  like only one other one is being farmed as intensively as this.
  It'd be smart to have a look and see if it isn't wiser to transfer
  everything to an unoccupied continent and just put the Farms back to
  the
  way they were before we got here.  Just think how that'd confuse the
  Catteni."
  "Easy, now, Raisha,' said Mitford, grinning at her babble.
  
  military tones, and that did the trick.
  "Thank you, sergeant.  I appreciate having had the honour to go."
  "'Where no human has gone before",' Kris heard herself repeating the
  Star Trek phrase.
  Mitford inched closer to the open hatch, but Kris reached it first.
  "Zainal?" she called, damning herself for acting like a possessive
  female.
  "On the bridge!" He sounded elated, too.
  As Raisha had said, he was still explaining to Bert about yaw and roll
  procedures and which toggles and handles were used in which situa-
  tions.
  "You landed her on a dime,' Kris said, looking from one to the other,
  and it was Bert who smiled proudly back at her.
  "Zainal insisted.  Damn near wet myself,' he said, but Kris only laughed
  
  "The scout makes a sort of whistle .  .  ." Kris suggested and he
  nodded.  She wanted to do something more than stand there with both
  hands at her sides, something to show Zainal how very, very glad she
  was
  to see him.  She wished Bert anywhere but on the bridge.
  Then Zainal stepped to her side, pulled her so that their cheeks touched
  and his lips brushed her ear before he stepped back.  'I go debrief to
  Mitford." He turned back to Bert.  'Go through the sequences.  We must
  put her out of sight before we close her down." Then he pushed Kris
  around and down the narrow passageway.  'We now know much more
  about
  Botany that is useful to know." All Kris could think of was that he was
  back and Phase One complete and Mitford was willing to go to Phase
  Two.
  As she stepped out onto the field where she had lain unconscious and
  vulnerable nine months ago, she could scarcely believe the change in
  fortune.  An(1 n11 hail A   _ r
  Catteni.
  
  "To look out of control,' Zainal said with a grin, 'and then I went
  behind the moon and out of the satellite's range." Of Bert and Raisha,
  he said, 'They know more than they think they do.
  Well trained.  Able to drive while I looked.  The scout makes fast .  .
  .  sketches .  .  ." He looked enquiringly at Kris who supplied
  'photos'.  'Yes, photos, details of other continents.  Got very close on
  last pass." Zainal grinned.  'Much better than what we were given." And
  he paused, twitching one eyebrow in irritation over the earlier
  reluctant handouts.
  "Raisha said something about only two continents being farmed." Zainal
  nodded.  'One is empty but greening.  Other not too good, I think.  But
  I am not farmer." 'You want us to shift our living space?" and Mitford
  waved over his head to mean the camp-sites the colonists now occu-
  pied,
  'and keep us out of trouble with the real landlords?" 'Land .  .  ." and
  Zainal separated the two words in puzzlement, 'lords?"
  "The race which first claimed this planet."
  
  Then, out of the corner of his eye, Zainal gave Mitford a long look.
  "Phase Two, serge?"
  Mitford chuckled, dropped his arms to slap his hands on his knees.
  'You
  found weapons?" 'Enough to overpower stupid Drassi,' Zainal said al-
  most
  contemptuously.
  "Things are getting more and more interesting, aren't they?" Mitford
  said to no-one in particular.
  Someone nearby cleared his throat and Kris looked over her
  shoulder at a group of men she vaguely remembered were formerly
  military
  and naval brass.  Instantly she was alarmed for Mitford's sake.  She
  didn't want him summarily replaced by newcomers who figured they
  knew
  
  "More than a few, and your being here saves me sending for you." Mit-
  ford
  said, stepping down from the driver's seat.  'Have you met Emassi Zai-
  nal
  and Kris Bjornsen yet?" There was a formal shaking of hands all round,
  hands which Kris noticed were calloused and hardened by 'civilian'
  labours.
  She noticed that everyone was respectful to both her and Zainal and
  told
  herself that she was imagining 'hostile takeovers'.  The cordiality of
  all nine did not seem forced.  Their comments ranged from 'Well done'
  to
  "A terrific boost to morale here'.
  "What Earth rank is "Emassi" equal to, Zainal?" Mitford asked and
  winked
  at Kris.
  '"Emassi" is captain,' Zainal informed Mitford, regarding him blandly.
  'Emassi outranks sergeant,' he added and grinned.
  
  "Might we get filled in on the details?" asked one silver-haired man -
  one of the generals, Kris thought.  His eyes travelled from Zainal to
  Kris to Mitford and then Easley.  'The implications of such a capture
  are staggering.  Rastancil, Major General,' and he added with a rueful
  expression, 'retired." 'As I said,' Mitford began, 'I was going to send
  for you as soon as I could report that Phase One was successful." He
  gestured towards the ship, frowning briefly as there was a scuffle at
  the hatch.  Cupping his hands over his mouth, he let out his
  parade-ground voice.  'EASY DOWN THERE!  OR NO-ONE GOES IN!
  LATORE, DOYLE, MAKE 'EM FORM A PROPER LINE.  Sorry about
  that,' as he
  turned back to the brass.  'It is successful, and I think it's time I
  turned the matter over to Tactics or Strategy or whatever you want to
  call an appropriate body." 'Sergeant, if you got this much done,'
  Rastancil said, 'you've more than earned the right to sit in on a Phase
  Two, if that's what I think you mean." Mitford nodded sharply.  'A Phase
  Two and a Phase Three." He gestured to Zainal again.  'Yeah, we do
  need
  to talk." More sharp yells of protest from the spaceship.
  
  "I am Zainal, no more Emassi,' he said.  'I will tell you about Phase
  One." 'Then do it up at Narrow, why don't you?" Kris suggested as yet
  more people swarmed across the field to set eyes on the space vehicle.
  'I'll wait here for the sergeant." 'We will all wait for the sergeant,'
  said Easley, but he gestured to a point further up the field, well out
  of the traffic from Camp to the parked ship, where there was a slope up
  to the hedgerow providing seating.
  If there were one or two men who cleared their throats or raised
  eyebrows of surprise at that firmly delivered order, Easley was so deft
  at easing them the way he wanted them to go that they all complied.
  When they got to the spot, Zainal crossed his ankles and sank grace-
  fully
  to the ground.  Kris sat beside him and Easley on Zainal's other side,
  facing the others as they made themselves comfortable.  He gave a
  concise report of Phase One, from the first report by Coo to the moment
  it landed.  Kris was particularly proud of his English, maybe not
  couched in perfect grammatical English but concise.
  
  "How much do you know of Eosi?"
  "More than I like, but not enough to understand why they'd hunt out one
  man,' was the reply.
  "You are the American general, Bull Fetterman?" A nod answered Zai-
  nal's
  question and Kris gave him full marks for having sorted out names and
  ranks.  But then Zainal kept himself informed of what sort of people had
  been dropped and knew from Mitford's report of the presence of military
  and naval officers.  'Then you will know that Eosi command Catteni
  manoeuvres." Fetterman wasn't the only one who nodded.  'They pick
  Emassi to make longer their lives." 'Say what?" Bull Fetterman assumed
  a
  posture and expression that had undoubtedly given him his nickname.
  "They subsume the Catteni totally,' Kris said.  'Zainal would have
  become a zombie .  .  .  or worse .  .  .  he wouldn't be dead, but he
  wouldn't have any personality left.  Like Heinlein's Puppet Masters'
  yarn." 'And the first scout came to take you back because you'd been
  chosen?" Easley asked.
  
  Easley blinked and grinned.  Rastancil did, too.
  "But it was duty?" Fetterman said.
  "Not once I was dropped here." And Zainal pointed emphatically at the
  ground.
  "Someone has to take your place?" asked a black officer, lateforties
  Kris judged his age.
  "Another male of my line.  There are several,' Zainal said with a shrug.
  "What about reprisals here?" another man asked.  Kris thought
  l
  he was Reidenbacker.  She'd been reviewing in her mind all the names
  and
  occupations on Drop lists and was putting them now to faces.
  
  I stay." 'Then that's some kind of duty or just a personal preference?"
  Scott wanted to know.
  "Zainal is referring to the fact that no-one placed on one of these
  trial planetary occupations is ever released,' Kris said firmly, trying
  not to glare at Scott.  'This is essentially a penal colony, you know.
  Which is why we called it Botany.  Zainal refused the option to leave
  because that would break another rule: only because it suited his
  superiors.  If they'd retrieved him before he was sent off with us
  dissenters, it'd have been another matter entirely.  But they let him
  get sent." She added that, whether it was true or not, just to make sure
  Scott wasn't going to call Zainal a deserter or coward or anything like
  that.
  "We concede the issue,' Rastancil said, smiling.
  "So we can be sure we won't be in for any reprisals because you
  brought
  the scout here,' Scott added.
  "I think we've established that that is unlikely,' said Easley, trying
  
  "Indeed we have .  .  ." Easley began.
  "Could we have a written report for the record?" Scott asked.
  "One's all we got paper for, sir,' said Mitford with no
  apology.  'Kris, can you do it for me?  So, Zainal, if you'll describe
  Phase Two just as you told it to me three nights ago .  .  ." Zainal
  suddenly rose to his feet.  Even though most of the brass were sitting
  on a slope, his new position required them all to look up at him, as
  neat a bit of strategy as Kris had ever seen.
  "The transports that make the Drops come more often.  Your planet is
  giving Catteni trouble they did not expect.  The ships are not in good
  repair.  We have weapons now.  We can take a second ship." He held
  up
  one hand to forestall questions that goal provoked.  The gesture was
  one
  of such dignified command that even Scott subsided, scowling. "We
  take
  transport.
  
  "Now don't try to tell me the Catteni will let that go without some sort
  of an in-depth investigation!" Scott said, making no attempt to disguise
  his scepticism and disapproval.
  "Not if crew's last message tells of.  .  .  system's failure." Zainal
  had had to find the words, but he also found the right ones.
  "Two famous last messages, and each time a ship disappears?" Scott
  said,
  openly scoffing.
  "Only Drassi are on transport coldly.  'Catteni .  .  ." and he laid not
  worry over small casualties.
  know that by now." 'Does that mean you, a Catteni officer, are willing
  to let us kill Catteni?" Scott demanded, watching Zainal with narrowed
  eyes.
  Zainal gave a shrug.  'War makes casualties.  You know that.
  
  These guys were sharp enough.  Scott seemed the only hard critic.
  You did know about that Catteni rule, didn't you, Admiral?" Mitford
  asked very politely.
  Scott gave him a curt nod.
  "With respect, sir, in case no-one mentioned it,' the sergeant went on,
  'Zainal was shanghaied aboard that ship in a contradiction to that rule.
  Just in case any of you wondered why he didn't feel he had to comply
  with any further orders from Emassi." 'Thank you for explaining that,
  sergeant,' Easley said.  'I think it should clear up any lingering
  doubts about where Zainal's loyalties now lie.  To return to Phase Two,
  what good does it do us to have a ship that may not be useful?  Even if
  Zainal believes we can disregard reprisals." 'I think of the Farmers,'
  Zainal said, and all eyes were on him again. "With two ships, we can
  send one with their transport .  .  ."
  Scott dismissed that notion with a snort and looked away.
  
  quickly.  'Actually, that's Phase Three." Before they started arguing
  over Phase Two, Kris wanted them to have some grasp of the scope of
  Zainal's plans.  'Forming an alliance with the Farmers against the Eosi
  because if they can farm a planet without any sentient being in charge,
  Zainal thinks they may have a sufficiently sophisticated technology to
  help the Catteni get out from under the domination of the Eosi - and
  stop being made into zombies and do things because the Eosi order
  them
  to be done.  Like take over Earth." 'Whoa, there, young lady,' Fetterman
  said, but he was grinmng and so was Rastancil, while Scott looked more
  annoyed than ever.  'Pretty ambitious, if you ask me."
  "The longest journey starts with the first step,' she said in a
  firm but clear voice and gestured back over her shoulder at the
  spaceship.  'Step number one."I 'Kris has a point,' Easley said, once
  again taking charge as heI seemed able to do almost effortlessly.
  "Until this morning none of us would have remotely considered the
  possibility of hijacking a Catteni ship .  .  ." 'Having a damaged
  transport's no damned good .  .  .  for going after Catteni or Eosi or
  
  That's the usual plan, isn't it, Zainal?" Kris watched Mitford winding
  himself up and looked anxiously in Easley's direction, but the man was
  watching eagerly as if he wanted Mitford to sound off.
  "Well, a scout's a start on our Botany Defence Initiative, and I'll back
  Phase Two with every man and woman that's been following me the
  past
  nine months." Then Mitford caught hold of himself, took a deep breath.
  'If we pull that off, too, then we can reevaluate the situation.  And
  there's more than just the Catteni to worry about.
  There're the Farmers, and how they'll take to us being dropped here on
  their prime real estate without their say-so.
  Now I know I've mentioned to you that most of us are beginning to think
  we ought to leave the Farmers' installations alone and find our own.
  That's why I have scout parties out all over the continent." 'Hold it
  there a minute, sergeant,' Rastancil said, getting to his feet. 'Thought
  you dismantled all those Mechanicals so that the Farmers would come
  and
  see who was vandalizing their planet?"
  
  that,' and he pointed back towards the scout ship, 'alters everything.
  Or .  .  .  hell, you should see that as well as I can." And he ended
  with his arms at his sides, waiting for reaction.
  "Definitely the situation has changed,' Easley said and heard murmurs
  seconding that.  He seemed to be appraising the moods around him.
  'Phase
  Two seems feasible but, as Sergeant Mitford says, it's going to need
  some intense planning and good timing .  .  .
  even with weapons at our disposal.  I suggest that we adjourn and
  discuss ways and means."
  "Scout hides,' Zainal said and pointed towards Camp Narrow.
  "You're going to fly it in?" asked a man with a rather rakish mustache
  as he got to his feet, brushing off the seat of his coverall.
  "I'd like permission to be aboard, sir.  I was mission control on the
  last shuttle project.  Trained as a test pilot.  Gino Marrucci." Zainal
  looked to Mitford who nodded.  Then Zainal looked at Scott.
  
  "One more,' Zainal said.  'Air force man?" 'I was air force,' the black
  general said and he stood, grinning.
  "John Beverly." 'That's settled then,' said Peter Easley.  'Shall I
  drive your runabout back to Camp Narrow, serge?  And be sure the
  garage's .  .  .  or should I say, hangar's ready.
  "Good idea,' Mitford said.
  Zainal pivoted and, without looking back to see who followed, led the
  way back down the field.
  "Always meant to go see the display at Houston but never found the
  time,' Mitford said conversationally to no-one in particular in the
  group walking in step with him.  He grinned as Kris made a hasty leg
  change to match strides with the others.
  "Happens all the time with us military types."
  .  .,
  
  "You'll get a chance to look inside later." 'You mean, the Catteni are
  gain' to be lookin' for it?" a man asked m a nervous tone.
  "Naw,' said Bert, appearing in the open hatch.  He grinned when he saw
  the delegation and jumped to the ground, waving those behind him from
  the last tour to make a quick exit.  'Why would a Catteni in his right
  mind want to live on Botany if he could get off?" There was good-
  natured
  laughter at that sally, as those still hoping to see inside the prize
  began to drift back up the hill.
  "Gentlemen,' Bert waved the new group in.  'Shall I .  .  .?" he began
  to Zainal, as if he anticipated being replaced.
  "You must watch me do it,' Zainal said.  'These watch, too."
  "I'll bet they do,' Bert murmured low enough for only Kris and Zainal to
  hear as they passed him.
  Kris stepped up, into the hatch, ahead of the brass.  She wasn't going
  
  l
  "Secure hatch, Raisha,' Zainal said and looked at the arrangement of
  those standing in the cramped space of the small bridge. He nodded
  and
  gestured for them to stay where they were.
  Kris inched closer to Mitford who was just behind Zainal.
  "You watch good?" Zainal said to Bert, who nodded as Zainal's fingers
  moved in slow sequence over toggles and switches.  'Got that?"
  "Yes, yes .  .  ."
  A quick glance around and Kris saw that Bert was not the only one
  memorizing the sequence.  Beverly and the test pilot were the most
  eager, but Scott's expression was less critical.
  "Ve-ry smooth,' Beverly said.  He was the first to be conscious of the
  vertical take-off.
  
  "Ass-ETS, not asses?" Zainal asked, blank-faced.
  "You pick up too much bad language, man,' she muttered as everyone
  else
  grinned.
  "In space as well?" asked Beverly.
  "Better in space,' Zainal answered, as he depressed a button on the
  panel in front of him and began a horizontal forward movement, skim-
  ming
  safely above the heads of those moving back to Camp Narrow.
  "That satellite won't see the movement?" Scott asked.
  Kris wondered if the Admiral would ever give Zainal any slack.
  "Not that kind.  Very basic and geo-synchronous,' Zainal replied,
  twitching one shoulder.  'I use only .  .  .  guide .  .  ." He craned
  his head about, for Kris's help.
  
  Zainal, flashing a look at the signals, nodded.  He was watching the
  landscape closely.
  "Is there much fuel left?" the test pilot asked, looking over the gauges
  and dials.  'Which one?" 'This one,' Bert said and tapped it.
  A needle point just a shade over a half-way mark.
  "Reason two for Phase Two.  Transport will have fuel,' Zainal said.
  "How far will what there is take us?"
  Zainal shrugged.  'Not back to your Earth."
  "What sort of fuel do you use?" asked the test pilot.
  Zainal rattled out some Catteni sounds and then grinned at the pilot.
  "Can't make here." He made another correction, moved a toggle and the
  pilot gasped.
  
  though no sound penetrated the scout.
  "Fraggit,' Mitford muttered, his face pale, as he grabbed for something
  to hang on to as the scout seemed to slide down a corridor that had
  once
  seemed much wider.
  "Easy as pie, sergeant,' Beverly said, grinning broadly as they headed
  inexorably towards the target barn's wide-open doors.
  "It'll fit?" asked Mitford, taking a firmer hold on the ceiling handle
  he had found.
  "No problem,' Bert said.
  Kris sympathized with Mitford.  She tried not to hold her breath.
  The flight vanes on the rear of the fuselage must be just clearing the
  sides of the alley.  Then she noticed someone encouraging the forward
  motion with hand gestures as he backed towards the barn.  Zainal held
  up
  
  the barn.  The ground crew leaped in front and now made pushing
  gestures, as he stood to one side so he could judge when to wave-off.
  "No rear mirrors on this thing, huh?" Mitford murmured in Kris's ear,
  but he had colour back in his face now that they were nearly parked.
  The wave-off came and, with one final adjustment, they felt the scout
  ship settle to the floor.
  To Kris's surprise, the observers clapped their hands, even Scott.
  "You'd've been a great Atlantis pilot,' Marrucci said.
  Zainal stood up, squeezing up against Mitford and Kris in the cramped
  space.  'Bert, show Marrucci how to shut her down."
  "Can we watch?" asked John Beverly.
  Zainal shrugged, looking at Mitford.
  "Sure, why not,' the sergeant said, easing himself towards the
  
  "Can this be locked, Zainal?" Mitford asked in a low voice, because the
  man who had acted as ground crew was loping up to them.
  "There are six of these,' Zainal said, showing Mitford the small
  grayish-brown rectangle in his hand.  'I have hidden three.
  Bert and Raisha each have one.  Is that right?" Mitford looked
  thoughtful, almost sad.  'For now, but I think the fly boys and the
  brass will decide who gets to use this baby." 'Baby?" Zainal asked,
  turning to Kris.  'Is that like boy-o-boy, and man-o-man?" 'Ships are
  generally referred to as "she's", female,' she said, grinning.  'And
  special ships are babies.  Specially good ships!'
  .
  "That's a lot of baby,' Zainal said with suspicious laughter glinting in
  his eyes as he looked down the length of the scout.
  "Hey, Zainal, that was some sweet job of piloting,' the crew man said,
  running up with his hand out for Zainal to shake.  'I used to be flight
  deck officer on the George Washington .  .  ."
  
  "Need any more help with her, I'm your man.  Vic Yowell's the name."
  He
  gave Zainal's hand another shake and then went to prowl around the
  vessel.
  "All that brass aren't going to take the ship away from us, are they?"
  Raisha asked, keeping her voice down and her eye anxiously on Mit-
  ford.
  "Listen up, you lot,' Mitford said, catching them with a stern glance,
  'that ship makes this a whole new ball-game.  I know General Rastancil
  by reputation - he has a good one.  I heard good things about General
  Beverly .  .  .  don't know about the navy, but I do know,' and he
  waggled his finger at them, 'that there'll be some changes and we gotta
  be flexible.  So let's go with the flow.  Right?" 'Where I flow, you
  go,' said Zainal, poking Mitford in the shoulder with one finger with
  each word.  'Right?" Mitford gave a short laugh, but Kris knew that he
  appreciated Zainal's statement of loyalty.
  "I don't know about you lot, but I need some chow about this time of
  day." He walked out of the hangar.
  
  "So if I get a chance to learn to pilot the scout, I could pilot a
  transport vessel?" 'You can now,' Zainal said, grinning at her surprise.
  'Drassi need very simple controls." 'Say, Zainal,' Mitford asked, 'how
  many ships do you think we can hijack before they stop landing here or
  your destroyers come to have a look?"
  Zainal just grinned.
  They had finished with the noontime meal when Bert and the others who
  had stayed on in Baby, as the ship was unimaginatively called, joined
  them at their table.  Marrucci and Beverly were full of questions for
  Zainal about the performance levels of the ship, its cruising range,
  cargo capacity weaponry and maintenance requirements.
  Kris translated terms as well as she could, with help from both Bert and
  Raisha when she bogged down over unfamiliar words and meanings.
  Mitford sent someone for paper and pencil.
  
  "Diagrams,' Scott said, as if that was obvious.
  So Zainal told Bert where to find the service manuals in the pilot
  compartment, and the day became a session of terminology and
  translation.  Engineers were sent for to decipher the schematics, while
  Zainal struggled to explain with his inadequate technical vocabulary.
  For Kris, guesswork worked as well in some instances, but she came up
  with appropriate ones more often than the others did.  Zainal did know
  the basic maintenance routines and checks required, since he had often
  flown this type and had had to make repairs.
  Worrell arrived at one point and took Mitford off with him.
  Reidenbacker left later on and took Fetterman with him, but Kris was far
  too occupied with spatial and aviation words to do more than register
  that there were other faces where those men had sat.  There was also
  no
  question that the capture of Baby was the best thing that could have
  happened on Botany at that particular moment.
  
  "You, too,' he said to Raisha and Bert.  'No sleep last night.
  Not good.  Minds must be rested to learn how to fly Baby." He caught
  Kris with one hand, Raisha by the other, and gestured for Bert to follow
  them out.
  There was a brief lull in the various conversations all over the barn
  but, by the time they reached the door, these had picked up again,
  including several arguments, with sheets of Zainal's meticulous dia-
  grams
  and the manual being passed around.
  All four walked wearily to one of the less crowded end barns.
  A 'people' door had been cut into the larger one and a narrow entry area
  established before three aisles sectioned off the floor space.  Screens
  of woven reeds divided areas into living spaces, affording a certain
  degree of privacy.  Single pallets stuffed with fluff weed, spare
  blankets, a rough box to hold possessions and two stools comprised the
  furnishings of the one Zainal and Kris took.  He moved two pallets
  together.  Kris got her boots off, emptied her pockets of the comunit
  
  and night, Kris found herself waking before
  r
  sunrise.  Zainal was awake, too, lying on his back with hands behind his
  head.
  "What's up?" she asked in a low voice.
  He released one hand, curled his arm around her head to stroke her
  cheek.
  "Thinking."
  "Good thoughts?"
  He nodded.
  "Share them?" He rubbed his knuckles against her cheek: she could see
  his teeth in a smile in the dim light.  'I must out-think Catteni." She
  caught his hand, holding it against her cheek as she turned into him,
  
  "Is he the other male you meant yesterday?" She felt Zainal's shoulder
  twitch and the rumble of amusement in his chest.  'He is next, but may
  not be chosen." That seemed to amuse him even more.  'He has life-
  mate
  and several childs already,' Zainal added, as if that should be a
  consolation.
  "Children,' she corrected automatically.  'Don't you?" she heard herself
  ask.
  "No chosen has life-mate, but I have two males.  Too young to be
  chosen."
  "So if Lenvec is chosen, we don't have to worry?"
  "He did not say how soon the chosen must go.  If there is time, maybe.
  He will be commanded where to search first." Then Zainal paused, and
  she
  sensed he deliberated on whether or not to continue as he stroked her
  head slowly.  'Maybe .  .  .  he gets better satellite over Botany."
  
  Zainal gave his head one shake.  'Not now.  He has enough troubles
  with
  - what did you call them - the brass?  Beverly, Scott, Rastancil, them?"
  'Yeah, they're all brass, admirals, generals: Marrucci was a colonel, I
  think.  Watch out for Scott." Zainal grunted agreement and surprised her
  by smiling.  'I like a good fight." "You mean, convincing Scott you're
  all right for a Catteni?
  Or getting Phase Two and more fuel for the scout?" 'Both." He gave her
  hand a warm squeeze.  'This gets interesting."
  "Don't get smug, Emassi Zainal."
  The?  Never.  This Catteni bastard watches his step."
  "Zainal!  Where did you pick up that language?"
  "Is it not correct?" She knew he was teasing and laughed.  'I'm damned
  glad you know as much as you do, particularly right now .  .
  ."
  
  patriarch and commander, he listened to the record tape and replayed
  the
  satellite's recording of the scout's takeoff, the suddenly erratic
  course which straightened into a dive towards the subject planet's
  second moon, disappearing beyond the satellite's visual limitation.
  "But analysis proves that is not Zainal's voice.  None of them are. What
  has Personnel said about Arvonk?" That was the one flaw in Lenvec's
  arguments.  'There is none of Arvonk, who was only a woman and not in
  service as
  Emassi.  She was used because Zainal had chosen her several times
  for
  intercourse." 'There are no other Catteni down there.  Who else but
  another scout could have responded?"
  "Some of the Terrans have learned our language."
  Perizec snorted.  'But not how to operate comunits." 'Zainal could teach
  them." Lenvec spoke through his teeth with aggravation, an unwise
  attitude to show his senior and parent but he had absolutely no doubts
  
  Zainal's taunt - 'I drop, I stay' - was like a pulse in the back of
  Lenvec's brain.  What good did it do Zainal to go back to the planet, no
  matter what technology had been found there?
  Could Zainal know the origin of the original occupants of that planet?
  Was that why he took the scout?  What good would such a move do?
  "He has somehow made friends with the Terran dissidents,' Lenvec
  went
  on, desperate to persuade his father to believe him.  'Now he has
  transportation.  He has some plan in mind." Perizec dismissed that
  consideration as he rose.  'For all the good it will do him." 'Sir, for
  the honour of the family, insist on a second orbital satellite.
  Geo-synchronous does not have sufficient capability to keep a watch on
  his next moves." 'Next moves?" Perizec regarded his son steadily and
  with such malice that it was all Lenvec could do not to recoil from such
  scrutiny.  'Your next move is to attend the Eosi Selection.
  No further delay is possible.  Is that understood?" 'Maybe the Eosi will
  not be so blind,' Lenvec said in a bitter tone, and when the nerve-whip
  
  disobeyed the protocol that required the recipient to endure a whip-lash
  by administering a nerve block.  Clern stayed by his side until the
  medication took effect.  Which was more than she ought to have done
  but
  it did not, as she had probably hoped, appease his bitter resentment
  sufficiently for one final sexual interlude.  Lenvec could think only
  what he had been deprived of because Zainal had been the chosen of
  their
  bloodline: the opportunities and promotions that Zainal had enjoyed
  because he had been the chosen.  Eosi liked their 'subjects' to have
  rich experiences to bring for them to enjoy, to use as guides in their
  manipulation of their subject species.  Lenvec had had to be satisfied
  with a circumspect life, learning to manage the family estates and
  accepting simpler rewards than Zainal gathered.
  Lenvec had even had to rear Zainal's children with his own, since being
  chosen kept Zainal from having a mate.  That was the one privilege
  which
  Lenvec had had which Zainal did not.
  And now Clern had to be set aside because Zainal had escaped.
  
  injustice done consumed Lenvec even when, supported by a blood pride
  he
  had not known he possessed in such depth, he was accompanied by
  Perizec
  to the vast complex reserved for Eosi.  He entered with the three other
  Catteni being presented by their fathers, and Lenvec's resentment flared
  and deepened.  They had been chosen: they had had the privileges
  Zainal
  had enjoyed and he had been denied.  But he had as large a measure
  of
  Emassi pride as any of them and so he went, seething with hatred and
  the
  now deeply embedded ambition to somehow get even with Zainal.
  That kept his back straight, his knees stiff as he faced the Eosi mental
  who would engulf him, making him no more
  r
  l
  
  ers,
  previously willing and proud young men, did as they were engulfed.
  Certainly the intense emotion intrigued the Eosian as it settled into
  the strong new body as the shell that it had been using drifted like the
  dead thing it had been for centuries onto the highly polished floor of
  the chamber.  Quite unusual, in fact, for the Eosian had made such
  transfers frequently and was delighted by a novel experience as the last
  of the personality which had once been Lenvec totally dissolved within
  the mental.
  The shell, crumbling into dust, was swept into a receptacle and returned
  with proper ceremony to Perizec, who waited with other fathers to
  receive the husks of their greatgrandfathers.  Of them all, Perizec was
  the most relieved.  He had greatly feared that Lenvec would be found
  unacceptable and the dishonour to their bloodline would have been
  catastrophic.  But honour had been served, and their family would
  continue to supply young men to the Eosi and reap more worldly re-
  wards
  than other, less favoured families.
  
  Perizec took the receptacle containing his great-grandfather's dust to
  the family crypt and placed it in the niche prepared for it.
  He looked at the array of ancestors who had done their duty.
  Then did his final one: listing first Zainal and then Lenvec as dead.
  Too bad he could do nothing punitive to the sons, but that would give a
  lie to the reason why Lenvec had had to stand
  .
  in for his brother.  But there were other, subtler ways to make them pay
  for their father's defection.
  Quite a considerable galactic distance from the Eosi home planet and its
  expanding sphere of influence, the homing device arrived in the slot
  designed to receive it on the huge moon installation where such devices
  were processed.  When no message was displayed, the container was
  routinely overhauled for the malfunction.  Such homing missiles were
  rarely despatched without cause.  No malfunction was discovered.
  
  to time, investigated anomalies.  The appropriate galactic coordinates
  were tagged for investigation during the next regular maintenance
  circuit.
  r
  l
  s
  If those intimately connected with Phase One slept, it became obvious
  to
  Zainal and Kris when they quietly exited their quarters at dawn that
  others had not.
  A weary duty-cook had propped her chair back against the wall, her
  head
  lolling to one side as she caught what rest she could while the knot of
  men and women at the table furthest from her murmured urgent
  conversations and passed papers back and forth.
  
  helped themselves to the food kept warm in the pans and the tea in the
  kettle.
  Kris identified not only Scott and most of yesterday's 'brass'
  but others' obviously called in from the other camps for this session.
  "You started something, Zainal,' Peter said, rising and gesturing for
  Zainal to take his place, while he hooked over chairs from the next
  table for Kris and himself.
  "Phase Two?" Zainal asked, settling himself and eyeing the mass of
  papers, charts and lists that littered the table.  He sipped.
  "You bet,' said Easley, while several men at the other end of the table
  resumed their interrupted debate.  'I sent Mitford off to bed at third
  moonrise.  He couldn't keep his eyes open."
  "How can you, then?" Kris asked.
  
  "We have discovered a lot of dropees have had military training, and
  more than enough have commando, SAS, or similar training in their own
  countries, so that we can have our pick of the force to make Phase Two
  successful,' Easley explained in a low voice.  'What is needed now is
  information from you on .  .  ." 'What weapons there are aboard the
  scout,' and now Scott interrupted, 'some idea of the interior of a
  transport ship and what weapons they'd have so we can properly train
  our
  personnel." Zainal took a sip of the hot beverage and gestured that he
  be given paper and a writing implement.
  "Breakfast first?" Kris said in a caustic tone, lifting a spoonful from
  her bowl of porridge.  'Army .  .  .  and navy, I'm sure .
  .  .  still function better when fed."
  "Miss Bjornsen,' Scott began ever so politely.
  "Knock it off,' Zainal said in a very quiet voice, but he gave Scott a
  brief, warning look before he began to sketch the long ovoid of a
  
  "Crew carry on back,' and Zainal demonstrated tying the whip-lash to a
  handle and slinging the imaginary item to his back. "People unconscious
  no problem." He outlined the bridge area, the main crew quarters where
  they seemed to sleep stacked nearly as closely together as their
  passengers would be, and then indicated the engine room, air plant and
  other essential elements of the transport, including cargo areas that
  did not have oxygen.
  That left an empty midsection across which Zainal now drew a series of
  parallel lines.
  "Sleepers don't need much space.  Empty one deck, remove, shift up-
  wards,
  empty two deck .  .  ." 'We were crammed in like sardines then,' Easley
  remarked with a bit of a shudder.  'What do they use to keep us in
  suspended animation?" 'Asleep?" Kris whispered, because she knew
  Zainal
  would recognize those words." 'Eosi make.  Not even Emassi know
  in-gred-ee-ents,' Zainal said with one of his indifferent shrugs.
  "So we would have to get the guards, storm through here to secure the
  
  risk lives.  They will not expect attack.  With dropping done, they are
  also tired.  We stun those outside, maybe all will be.  THEN we .
  .  ." Zainal grinned at Moussa, 'storm through to bridge and surprise
  Drassi."
  .
  Moussa wasn't the only one who chuckled at Zainal's suggestion to let
  the Catteni unload.
  "I'm reliably informed that not everyone is unloaded with any caution,'
  said the British Ainger.
  "I will be there, of course, to see,' Zainal remarked.
  "Hey, wait a minute,' Kris said, and she wasn't the only one to see the
  folly of that.
  "Not when the Catteni tried to kidnap you .  .  ." frowning.
  
  "Can we really trust him?"
  "If it's that easy to take the transport, why hasn't anyone tried?"
  "You haven't seen bare hands against nerve-whips, have you?"
  "So, if Drassi and Emassi never mix, who would recognize him?"
  "And the risk is better than the twenty-five percent casualties."
  Kris identified Leon Dane's voice.  'Leon can make like an Emassi from
  the shadows,' she said, broadcasting her suggestion over the other
  voices.  That stopped them.  'It's the tone they respond to, not the
  figure." 'Good idea,' Zainal said, licking his lips.  'He sounds Emassi.
  Could .  .  .  fool .  .  .  me." And he cast a mischievous side glance
  at Kris as he continued to eat his breakfast.
  "We can decide on that stratagem later,' Scott said firmly. "If you've
  finished,' he addressed Zainal, who had indeed just emptied both bowl
  and cup, 'let's go through the numbers .  .  .
  
  l
  "That makes twenty.  Do all unload?"
  Zainal nodded.  'Off-duty help so sixteen unload.  Others relax here,'
  and he pointed to the bridge.  'Not much security,' he added.
  "Stand from here,' and he put his finger on the portal, 'and stun all."
  "Stun?" The look on Scott's face was ludicrous.
  "Why not?  Killing weapons messy." 'And wasn't it decided,' Kris got in,
  'that they'd at least have a chance to run for it?"
  "Why?" The mood around the table turned ugly.
  "Because then we're not the same as Catteni,' John Beverly said, rais-
  ing
  his voice above the vengeful babble.
  
  Moussa said, still grinning, and he looked down at Zainal to see his
  reaction, but the Catteni was adding details to the sketch, apparently
  oblivious to the moral issue.
  "Take a camp vote,' Yuri Palit said, standing up at the end of the
  table.
  "That's always assuming that we take the damned transport in the first
  place,' Beverly put in.
  "Now wait a minute, general .  .  ."
  "Beverly, if we can't overpower twenty .  .  ."
  "Referendum!'
  "Everyone needs to know
  "Those guys murdered .  .  ."
  "We don't have to do the same .  .  ." Kris got up from the table,
  
  could, but the slaughter still made humans no better than Catteni and
  polluted this new world, and this fresh start, with all the old hatreds
  and prejudices that bubbled just skin-depth and could be sublimated by
  attacking a new species-victim.  So who hit the goat now?
  She almost threw the dishes down, but spotted the still sleeping cook
  and slipped them quietly in the warm dishwater to soak. Possibly, if she
  had to, she could kill a Catteni in cold blood.  She hadn't minded when
  Fek and Slav had killed the kidnappers, but her blood certainly hadn't
  been cold then - it had been frozen with fear that the ruse would be
  uncovered and Zainal taken.  All the arguments were specious.  It was
  the principle that was important.  And more important here on Botany
  than at any other time in her life .  .  .  even when she had feared
  rape by the brutish Catteni steward on Barevi.
  "Kris!" Zainal's voice had not been pitched loudly but he stood at the
  exit and beckoned to her.  The 'strategists' were so involved in arguing
  points of honour, law, principle and integrity that his departure had
  not been noticed.  Except by Easley and Rastancil, who hurried towards
  him.
  
  ing
  ahead as the predawn sky outlined the hangar which Kris realized had
  acquired the most peculiar outline.  Zainal snorted and walked on.
  "What'd they do to it?" Kris asked, though she thought she knew the
  answer.
  "Mitford suggested we disguise the contents,' Easley said.
  "Just enough in case someone should scan.  All they'd see is metal
  hunks.  Rooftll take the weight.  The engineers checked."
  The moment they cracked the inset door, a shadowy figure got
  r
  to its feet and challenged them: in Vic Yowell's unmistakable tones.  He
  even had a lance at the ready.  'Who's there?" 'Zainal, Kris, Easley and
  Rastancil,' Zainal said, taking him literally.
  "Oh,' and Vic let out a relieved sigh.  'More damned people poking their
  
  couldn't see in." 'Go get some proper sleep, Vic,'Easley suggested.
  'We'll need you later on, and I appreciate your taking charge here." Vic
  gathered up his blanket and pallet and grinned as he passed them.
  "Never thought I'd have a chance to land anything ever again.
  Don't want it messed up." Rastancil gave him a genial slap on the back
  as he went and, when Vic had closed the door behind him, the hangar
  was
  dark again.  Rastancil cursed, but Easley turned on a hand beam, which
  Kris recognized as one that had been lifted from the kidnappers' bodies.
  "You're quick,' she said with a grin up at Easley.
  "Spoils of war are meant to be used,' he said.
  Kris wondered was the man ever out of sorts?  He'd been up all night
  arguing with brass-headed types and his equanimity seemed not the
  least
  bit strained.
  
  question.
  "Brass-heads?" He chuckled.  'Indeed, indeed."
  "Lord, I can't even get you to commit yourself to a joke."
  :'Oh, I commit myself, Miss Bjornsen.  Believe me, I do."
  The hatch opened and lights inside came up, surprising an exclamation
  out of both Easley and Rastancil.
  "Do not,' Easley murmured, lowering his head to Kris's ear, 'let them
  get Zainal's control away from him." 'He isn't planning to let them,'
  she whispered back under the noise of Rastancil stumbling up into the
  ship.  So Easley had committed himself- and to the right people - she
  thought, hauling herself up inside the ship.  It had been easier from
  the aircushion vehicle.
  A low noise started, and Kris felt fresh air drawn in past her.
  "You can vent to the outside?" Rastancil asked.
  
  delight and, looking to Zainal for permission, picked up a rifle-type
  affair with a thick cartridge-case and a stumpy muzzle.
  Zainal pointed and named what each knob or toggle did.  'Safety, power
  up is red, white is empty.
  Make thin or fat spray of.  .  ." He turned to Kris.
  "Bullets?" She made a space between thumb and forefinger.
  "Metal?  Kill?" Zainal closed the distance to almost very thin.
  "Needle?"
  He nodded.
  "Oh, I heard about them on Earth.  They started using toxic tips just
  before I was rounded up.  Nasty." Rastancil carefully returned the
  weapon.  'Any single-shot, revolver-type weapons?" Zainal frowned.
  Kris made her hand into a gun shape and enunciated a single 'pow!'
  
  "So you count on its speed and manoeuvrability more than its ord-
  nance?"
  Kris wondered which words needed translating, but Zainal was looking
  at
  Rastancil and then gave a brief nod.  'Yes, speed and .
  .  .  other word .  .  ." He did look at Kris now, flipping his hand and
  fingers.
  "Flexibility,' she supplied.
  "Any telepathy in your family, Kris?" Easley asked.
  "None, but I've been partnered with Zainal since we were dropped.
  I know what words he has learned .  .  .  and he's got a very good
  vocabulary,' and Kris stressed that, 'so it's less guess and more acting
  as synonym finder." Easley chuckled.  'I suspect he understands far
  more
  English than people think." 'I don't suspect,' Kris replied, and she
  mean' that as a tacit warning.  'I know." 'I shall keep that remark
  
  cameras, Catteni-style, exploratory equipment, compasses, ropes,
  backpacks, winter and summer gear, thermal suits, and a lot of other
  gear that would see the scouting teams far better equipped, her head
  was
  reeling with such riches.  Mitford would go bananas!  There was even
  diving equipment and two water craft, dismantled and packed for
  transport.
  "Sail?  Or powered?" Easley asked, coming alive with interest at their
  appearance.  He diagrammed a sail in the air and made a put-put noise
  for the power.
  Zainal grinned.  'Both."
  "It's Christmas!" Kris said, wanting to clap her hands together.
  "Well, to a degree,' Easley amended, but he was grinning too.
  "You've done so well with so little, don't let all this stifle
  ingenuity.  There isn't even eight of everything." 'There's eight of
  everything we'd need for Phase Two,' Rastancil said in a sober tone,
  
  And he nodded.  'Many."
  "All empty?" she asked.
  Zainal shrugged one shoulder and grinned.  'We go see?"
  "What?" Easley wanted to know, peering over her shoulder.
  "Our scouting project,' Kris said, not wanting to go into much detail.
  "Oh, blind valleys like the one your team discovered which Mitford told
  me about?" said Easley and his face wore a hopeful expression,
  soliciting their confidence in him.
  "Is a thing kept in?  Or gut?" Zainal said, giving it.
  "Out would be my educated guess, considering the nocturnal horrors
  Botany has,' and Easley gave a little shudder.
  "You've seen them?"
  
  "Films,' Kris said as clearly as possible.
  Zainal grinned.  'Whatever.  I push button and later,' he nodded to the
  slot in the wall, 'picture comes out.  Show these to Mitford, Kris,
  please."
  "We can both show him,' she said.
  Zainal shook his head.  'My duty is here today, showing off."
  l
  l 'Show me around a couple more times, Zainal, and I'll spell you,'
  Rastancil offered.
  "Many will want grand tour,' Zainal said, his eyes sparkling with such
  open amusement that Rastancil regarded him with surprise.  'I learn
  much
  from Kris,' he said, dropping a proprietary arm across her shoulders.
  
  "You take a good look around, Kris, Peter,' he added, pointing to the
  other doorsalong the narrow hall.  'Familiarize yourselves." Easley was
  shaking his head respectfully as Zainal followed Rastancil.
  "He's quite a guy.  I'd never have thought a Catteni had an active sense
  of humour." 'Maybe they just never have the opportunity,' Kris said and
  slid back the first door.  'Phew!  This needs an airing.
  What slobs!" Clothing was thrown about floor and bunks, while used
  cups
  and plates attached to the surface of the table had not been collected
  for washing.  There was a blank screen and a hand control unit which
  Easley picked up, examined and replaced as the markings meant noth-
  ing to
  him.  There were four bunks, wide enough for Catteni bulk, and all
  unmade and messy.
  Easley did look into the nearest locker, pinched his nose and shut it
  up.  But he glanced in at the others.  'Some of the gear can be useful.
  Especially the uniforms for Phase Two .  .  .  once they'd been washed."
  
  "Well, very interesting, I'm sure,' he said, clicking it off and
  absently returning the disk to its rack.  'Now where did they eat and
  wash - if they did?" One of the doors in the captain's unit slid back to
  disclose what had to be a shower compartment, complete with what Kris
  thought resembled a urinal and another odd opening.  Well, Catteni had
  much the same alimentary requirements as Humankind.  Easley gave a
  mild
  grunt when he peered in over her shoulder.
  There was another unit next in line down the passageway which would
  accommodate two at once.  The galley was just beyond it, almost the
  last
  door in the passage.
  "One-butt, at that,' she said, looking at the 'kitchen' side and its
  equipment.  A table with padded seating around it was evidently where
  the crew ate, if not in their rooms.  But the place was neat and tidy.
  Even clean.  Ah, but Raisha had said that they'd eaten aboard the ship
  so she had probably also cleaned it up.
  
  The moment Easley put his hands on the toggles, an alarm sounded.
  "Don't enter." Zainal's voice issued from an intercom right above their
  heads.  'Please,' he added.
  "He's not totally assimilated, is he?" Easley remarked. 'Let's see what
  they're up to.  Unless you want to clear out those lockers.
  We might need clean Catteni uniforms." Kris gave him a stern look.
  "We might, but I think it would count as a morale booster for others to
  see just what slobs the Catteni can be."
  "Point!'
  "What I really want to do is itemize all that lovely gear I hope we
  scouts have first pick of,' she said, rubbing her hands together.
  "Damn, I've no paper." 'Voile!" Easley said, taking a wad of small
  sheets out of one thigh pocket and a pencil from his chest pocket.
  
  "Who's on board?" an irritated voice demanded.
  "Scott?" Easley called back.
  "With Fetterman, Reidenbacker and Marrucci,' and the four men climbed
  on
  board, crowding the passageway.  'Didn't see you leave, Easley." Ea-
  sley
  smiled, ignoring the implied accusation.  'Decided to inventory what's
  here before the crowd gathers.  Rastancil's forward with Zainal, doing
  print-outs or something operational.  I have six only of what looks like
  pack frames,' he went on to Kris and put the first one back in its slot.
  When they heard the newcomers moving forward, Easley grinned at
  Kris.
  "Took 'em long enough to miss us, didn't it?"
  "I wonder,' she replied, grinning back at him, 'if they ever reached any
  conclusion." 'Oh, probably not until they've gone over Baby with a
  
  Once that was finished, Kris went to find Mitford.  Easley, who had
  initially gone forward to see how Zainal was faring, ran to catch up
  with her half-way to the barn where Mitford held office in Camp Narrow.
  "The compartment's jammed back with those who need-toknow. I'll wait
  for
  a quieter time,' Peter said.
  Kris gave a- snort.  'No matter what he explains, they'll still need him
  to fly the thing."
  "I expect so,' Peter replied equably.
  Chuck Mitford's eyes bugged out when he spread out the.
  pages of available equipment.  He was flabbergasted when he saw the
  aerial photos.
  "Clearest recon photos I ever saw,' he said, amazed, picking up one
  after another and scanning them.
  
  satisfaction, 'so a team could hang around, safe enough, and see what
  comes up." He tapped the near valley with his index finger. 'If we can
  secure this area .  .  ." He broke off as his shoulders convulsed in a
  shudder.  'I want us out of the Farmers' facilities.  I got a hunch
  about 'em." He gathered the inventory sheets into one neat pile and the
  photos into another one.  'Anyone seen these yet?" 'No,' Easley replied,
  'you're in charge of exploration.  And were I you, I would secure these
  supplies for your teams and start sending them out." Mitford grinned
  crookedly.  'Appreciate the advice, Pete." He turned to Kris.  'The rest
  of your team's doing kp, but they should be finished by now.  I'll just
  rev up the load-bed trundler and secure those supplies. Any weapons?"
  'Some, but I'd leave them where they are until Zainal drills us in their
  use,' Peter said.  'Some of'em'll make right nasty holes in people.  You
  know,' and he scratched his head, contorting his features as the sort of
  prelude that Kris decided was his way of leading up to an utterance of a
  diplomatic suggestion, 'we might take a page from the Catteni book of
  colonial administration and drop the next bunch of Turs into one of
  those valleys.  Come back in a few weeks and see how they've got on."
  He
  paused.  'Oh, better still, dump any Catteni prisoners we take in them.
  A bit of turnabout's fair play." Mitford stared, frowning at Peter
  
  around the other, 'and they get back a little of what they've been
  dealng out besides supplying us with guinea-pigs for whatever might
  lurk
  in one of those valleys." Mitford was unconvinced.  'They want this
  referendum first, don't they?" 'I think you'll have trouble getting the
  notion of lenience across to anyone who's tangled with a nerve-whip,'
  Kris said.
  "I can see it for the Turs, Easley,' Mitford allowed.  'I've never liked
  just turning them loose.  They're dangerous and, if there's enough of
  them, they constitute a menace." He rubbed his jaw.
  "Actually, we could use them as a detention facility.  That's less messy
  than staking a guy out at night for the crawlers." Then, with a shrug,
  he dismissed that topic and split his attention between the photos and
  the inventory.
  "The print won't fade,' Kris said, pulling his sleeve.  'Let's go get
  what we need before someone else requisitions it." 'Damn well told,' and
  Easley and Kris had to run to keep up with Mitford.
  
  were taking from the inventory list.  Soon they had emptied the
  passageway lockers.
  While the others were stowing the last acquisitions, Mitford took a
  quick look at the arsenal and closed that compartment firmly.
  Temptation, step behind me, Kris thought.
  Just then Scott appeared in the forward end of the passageway.
  "What're you doing, Sergeant?"
  "Looking at the arsenal, sir.  Could be useful." 'Pete and I have just
  finished the inventory of the lockers, Admiral,' Kris added, holding up
  the pad.
  "Good idea, Bjornsen.  Carry on."
  "We will,' she said jauntily and, stifling a giggle at her deception,
  she followed Mitford out.
  
  get some lunch while Mitford called in Judy Blane, who'd been a
  cartographer; he wanted to match the photos to their appropriate areas
  on the map.  Meanwhile, Mitford called in the recon squads he wanted,
  ordered travel food from the kitchen and was ready to equip them as
  soon
  as they reported in.
  "Before the brass-heads find out where it's all gone to,' Kris said when
  the sergeant paused briefly.
  "Brass-heads?" He chuckled.  'Zainal?" She nodded.
  "Are you going to lead a group this time, serge, and get out of their
  way?" He shook his head with a rueful smile and grimace. "New, not this
  time.  I figure I better hang around." 'I can't say I'm not happy you
  will, Chuck,' she said, tilting her head towards the hangar and the
  'brass-heads' occupying it.
  "But you deserve to get out of here for a while and clear your head.
  You've done more than your share.  You need some R&R." 'I'll go after
  Phase Two's complete.  And don't you worry, Kris.  No matter what they
  
  "The Admiral doesn't trust anyone,' Mitfordsaid with a snort, folding
  his arms across his chest.  'For starters, he's stuck on dry land which
  isn't really where he functions best.  But distrust's not altogether a
  bad habit." A knock on the door which opened without his permission
  disclosed the first of the teams he'd called in, Ninety Doyle's.
  The Scandinavians arrived, breathlessly eager, before Mitford could
  brief Ninety's squad on the current situation.  Kris left him to it and
  eased herself out of the now crowded office and went to get some
  lunch.
  Part of the original strategy and tactics group were still busy at the
  end table, and those coming in to eat left a sort of noman's land of
  unused tables around the area to maintain their privacy.  She picked up
  her lunch of soup and fresh bread and made her way to where Sarah'
  Joe,
  Leila and Whitby were sitting.
  "Are we going to get to use some of that beaus gear?" Joe asked.
  "We won't be going out .  .  ."
  
  "I would rather wait until Zainal comes with us,' Leila remarked in her
  quiet but firm way, and sipped soup.
  "Besides which, I wouldn't want to miss Phase Two for anything,'Joe
  added.  'Got any update on that, Kris?" She shook her head and gave a
  little snort, jerking her thumb towards the earnest knot of men at the
  end table.  'They have to make up their minds first." "Whaddya bet
  they'll end up doing what Zainal suggested in the first place?" Joe
  asked, looking around the table.
  "Just so long as they make up their minds before the next transport gets
  here,' Sarah said.  'It could come any day now, too, judging by the
  frequency we've been getting Drops
  "You'd think they were planning World War III,' Whitby
  said, entering the conversation, 'instead of a minor commando action."
  They had just finished their meal when the rumble of male voices was
  audible, heralding the arrival of Scott, Fetterman, Rastancil, Beverly,
  Marrucci and Zainal.  He halted at the door, surveying the room,
  spotting Kris and, cocking his finger at her, indicating she was to join
  
  as Kris joined Zainal, they all left the mess hall.  Peter Easley passed
  them on his way in, sauntering in that easy bent-knee gait, pausing to
  exchange a few words and a laugh.
  As he came up, he winked at Kris.
  "There you are, Easley,' Scott said.  'When can the next transport be
  expected?"
  "Any time now,' Easley replied indifferently.
  Everyone turned around to stare at him.
  "They come when they have a full load, evidently,' he said and looked to
  Zainal who shrugged.
  "Last one was eight days ago.  Sometimes there's twenty-one days
  between
  Drops." He dismissed that concern with a flick of his fingers.
  "Deskis hear the best.  Deskis spread out .  .  ." and now he waved his
  
  "With what?" Kris asked.  'Hearing or reporting?" 'Do they know how to
  use ermilnitc9' Pratt a her remark.
  "The ones we have, even your grandmother could manage,' Kris
  snapped
  back, 'begging your grandmother's pardon,' she added, making herself
  grin at Scott's indignant reaction.
  "Are they capable of giving a detailed enough report, though?" Beverly
  asked, slightly more respectfully.  'I mean, I've never heard them use
  more than one word." 'What more is needed?  Hear ship.  Comes down
  near.
  Comes down far.  Your way,' Zainal said, and Kris was delighted to hear
  him effect the odd-tonality of the Deski voice.
  "A Deski did all right warning us about the scout,' she added.
  to use `;umumS!  Scott asked, Ignoring
  and telling Worrell exactly where it had landed."
  
  "No need,' Zainal said, and then took out of his coverall a sheaf of
  pictures, evidently second copies of the ones now being examined in
  Mitford's office.  He spread them on the table, while some of the other
  tacticians exclaimed and reached out for one to examine. Zainal found
  the one he wanted.  'This is hne I flew m.
  It had been taken at an altitude of the descent well above the cliffs in
  which Camp Narrow was located, but showed the fields leading to what
  was
  now called the Drop Field.  The scope of the photo included the third
  Drop area, and the boggy swamp where Zainal had lain, wounded by
  the
  toxic thorns.
  "Drop made here, too." And he put his finger squarely on the little
  patch of field.
  "But all the others have been made here,' and Easley pointed to Drop
  Field.
  "Good cover for troops in those hedges.  We can improve on it, though,'
  
  'They'll have to be washed first, but I saw them in the lockers.
  So guys stocky enough could actually get on board easily." 'Catteni
  don't talk much when unloading,' Easley said, having watched the
  procedure often enough in his official capacity as In-flow Officer.
  "Most don't even carry whip or stunner." The whole procedure was then
  gone over and over until Kris felt her stomach roiling.  She hated
  meetings where the obvious got repeated and repeated and no conclu-
  sions
  made.  Once, when she shifted impatiently, she felt Zainal, who was
  sitting next to her, press his leg against hers and she settled for a
  little while longer.
  Then orders were issued, for Deski teams - Easley, Beverly and
  Rastancil
  backed Zainal's assurance that the aliens would manage such a duty
  without a human counterpart - to spread out in a wide circle around the
  sprawling human settlement, equipped with comunits, to report the first
  rumble of an approaching transport ship.  They were given extra rations
  and blankets and a translation in Deski by Zainal of their orders, in
  
  "No, now we train the assault forces,' said Scott, and he marched off
  with those who were assisting him in that.  The others drifted away,
  gathering up their notes, maps and papers and leaving, probably to get
  some sleep.
  "You cleared equipment?" Zainal asked Kris as he guided her to the
  buffet table to get some lunch.
  "Everything that looked useful - except the dirty uniforms."
  She asked for a cup of the herbal tea and joined him at the table he
  took, set at the opposite end of the mess hall from the conference area,
  in an unoccupied corner.  All day and night people drifted in and out of
  the mess hall, eating whenever their duties permitted.  Kris noticed
  Aarens coming in, arguing with a man she recognized as a senior de-
  sign
  engineer.  However, Aarens had lost a lot of his arrogance though he
  still maintained a unique position as a clever adapter of useful gadgets
  from the Farmers' materials.
  
  "Oh, was that decided in the scout?" 'I believe so." Something else
  about his morning amused Zainal and although she tried to get him to
  tell her, he shook his head.
  "Not to worry,' he said.  'He is in his office?"
  "Probably." She stood as Zainal did.  When they had carried their dishes
  to the proper place and the weary young woman who was handling that
  chore, they made for Mitford's office.
  Although he called a cheery 'come in' when they knocked at the door,
  he
  was not alone.  A rather officious young man with a receding hairline,
  holding a clipboard fashioned from a piece of supply crate, was jotting
  down notes as fast as he could write.  Glancing to the back of the
  office, Kris noticed that the equipment - which had reached nearly to
  the ceiling when they had finished unpacking it that morning - was now
  down to a single level in most places.
  "I'm in charge of recon groups and I sent all of them out, properly
  
  tone, stressing the rank, 'I was Admiral Scott's aide in the resistance
  .  .  ." 'And still no doubt an admirable aide in this one,' Mitford
  said, 'but, lieutenant, we're all dropees here on Botany, ain't we,
  Zainal?" 'We dropped.  We stay." And Zainal held the door politely open
  for the lieutenant to leave by.
  As soon as he was gone, Mitford dropped his chair on all four legs and
  whistled softly.  'Damn fool!  Scott, too.  Not a fragging thing he'd
  need, and my teams do." 'Good on you, serge,' Kris said, chuckling as
  she settled down on a stool.  Zainal pulled one up closer to the desk
  and she let him tell Mitford what had happened so far.
  As it occasionally happens with well-laid plans, and just about the time
  everyone in Camp Narrow started to get real antsy from the waiting, a
  Deski called into the command post in the dim light of false dawn five
  days later.  Mitford happened to be duty officer on that shift.
  "Comes now.  Bad noise.  Bad smell,' she said.  'Wrong noise."
  "What could she mean by that?" Beverly asked.  He'd jumped out of his
  
  Then he turned to the diagram on the wall which showed the position of
  each Deski.  'Hmmm.  Tul's here,' and he pointed.  'If it was coming in
  properly, we should have heard from Fek." He moved his finger, and
  drew
  it in a straight line down to the Drop Field.  'Off course?" Beverly ran
  a straight line from Tul's position and wound up Flicks away from the
  usual area.  'We'd better get vehicles ready."
  He was gone before Mitford could remind Beverly that they
  had plenty of leeway to get to a different position, and still mount the
  rehearsed assault.
  Narrow was not the only camp alerted.  The Deskis followed Zainal's
  orders to contact Narrow first, and then their Camps.
  Worrell called in to ask for instructions.  Even Bella Vista Camp, up in
  the hills, had been included in the contingency plans that the
  brass-heads had made.  Well, it had been something to do to keep busy
  until Phase Two actually started.  It had!
  
  "Thanks, Fek.  Keep listening.  Tul said the noise is wrong." 'Is,' Fek
  agreed and Zainal nodded to indicate he had heard and understood.
  "Kris, find Beverly and tell him it's headed here after all,' Mitford
  said.  'He'll be at the main garage.  Why would a transport be making a
  "wrong noise", Zainal?" Zainal cocked his head.  'I told you ships not
  in good condition.
  I must hear noise to make a guess.  I go up!" And he pointed to the roof
  of the office.
  A ladder had been affixed in one of the alleys between barns to reach
  the cliffs against which they were backed.
  Mitford swore, but stayed on the comunit desk for any further reports.
  Two more Deski listeners reported in, also remarking on 'wrong noise'.
  A
  runner came back and Mitford beckoned him to the desk and the comu-
  nit
  
  -We need an operational ship,' Mitford said, hopes blasted by the news.
  "Not to worry.  Attack plan may need change."
  "Not if Scott has anything to say about it, and he is in charge of Phase
  Two." 'Phase Two is my idea,' Zainal said, and the comunit went dead.
  It wasn't long before everyone could hear the transport, wheezing and
  rumbling and giving off hoarse metallic shrieks, landing lights blazing
  and on-board sirens audible.  The surface force made it to the Drop
  Field, and into their assigned positions, before the ailing transport
  came into view, barely skimming the ridge-pole trees and skidding to a
  stop rather than landing.  As many landings as Mitford had already
  seen,
  some bouncing several times, others skidding toga stop, this was the
  worst.  He dreaded to think of the unconscious bodies being thrown
  around inside the shallow decks.
  I''Steam poured out of the base of the transport.  The main
  hatch opened and Catteni - coughing, sneezing, staggering made a
  
  "Get him!" he called in English and roared louder in Catteni.
  The vanguard did not slow and Zainal let off a stun bolt, hitting the
  Catteni in the head - a mortal shot.  The next two he got in the legs
  and they fell, moaning in frustration.  That was enough to halt the
  others and make them turn around, hands in the air.  He barked another
  order and they reluctantly retraced their steps, their eyes wide and
  frightened, darting anxiously from Zainal to the hulk they had somehow
  managed to land.
  Zainal called out a question.  He got a response and immediately
  gestured for those hidden in the shadows to come out.
  "Ship's circuitry in overload.  May blow.  We must get people
  out.  Dane, Chavell, Rastancil, take control of them.  Scott, we need
  every man you have." He raced up the ramp, Kris and the rest of their
  team right behind.  He went to controls set just inside the main hatch,
  throwing open the lid which was hot.  He was muttering or cursing in
  Catteni.  'Schkelk!" She felt herself go rigid with attention at his
  
  engineers, any mechanics, pilots.  AARENS!" Looking over her shoul-
  der,
  she saw the deck part its horizontal doors and lights came up to reveal
  the pitiful mounds of people who had been thrown about in the landing.
  She didn't need to shriek for rescuers: they were already running up the
  ramp and ducking into the fetid level.  The frightened Catteni crewmen
  were back, too, each encouraged by a settler holding a stunner on him
  to
  unload the passengers.
  The evacuation began.  Catteni managed to lift two or three bodies,
  while their captors managed one in a fireman's hold.
  More help arrived as the ship trembled and shuddered and made the
  most
  hideous and frightening of metallic noises while steam hissed out from
  unlikely places.  Kris's right hand was caught in a gush just behind the
  control board.  Whimpering from the pain, she licked and then blew on
  it.
  "Got them all out,' someone yelled at her.
  
  gauges and controls.  The heat and the smells were almost more than
  Kris
  could manage, even as close as she was to the outside, and her stom-
  ach
  heaved in rebellion.  Her hand was really hurting, and blowing didn't
  much help.
  Leaning around the open door, inhaling the fresher air outside, she
  managed to filter some of the stench by drawing the front
  of her coverall over her mouth and nose, hunching down in a cramped
  position to do so.
  "Got that lot." Yuri stopped by her side, his face a dirty mask, his
  coverall blood-smeared.  'How many more to go?" 'Two more decks."
  She
  worked the controls, although with the noise the machinery made she
  wasn't sure if the mechanism would shift decks at all.  The metal must
  have warped in the heat.  But slowly the third deck level was
  accessible.  'Have many survived?"
  
  Suddenly the levels of noise from around the ship seemed to abate, and
  some were silenced.  More men and women ran around, both aft and
  forward, some holding tools, carrying hoses and other equipment she
  realized they must have found in the transport.
  One more tremendous gout of steam erupted from the deck plates be-
  neath
  her feet and she jumped and skipped about, trying to find some place
  not
  burning hot.  As soon as she could get the machinery to turn to the last
  deck, she darted in to help unload.  The heat was almost unbearable.
  How
  long had these unconscious people endured such temperatures?  Or
  had
  they?
  She slung an arm over her shoulder and hoisted a body, a woman's,
  and
  staggered out and down the ramp.
  "That way.  Make it to the next field,' she was told, a hand turning her
  
  put on either side over the ditches.
  This field was covered with bodies.  Many of them, she thankfully saw,
  were moving and being attended: water poured over them or cups held
  to
  their mouths so they could drink.  The field was one cacophonous
  moan,
  with weeping woven in.  She staggered until she could find a free spot
  to lay her burden down.  And seeing the awful stillness in the grey
  face, she felt for a pulse in the neck.  There was none and with a cry
  of despair she curved in on herself, weeping.
  "Easy, Kris,' a familiar voice said, and she looked up at Sandy Areson,
  who was holding out a cup of water to her.
  "Drink." Sandy's gentle hand soothed the hair back from her sweating
  face and patted her shoulder.  'We've saved a great many.
  Thanks to Zainal." Kris started to rise.  Maybe they weren't all dead on
  that level.  But Sandy's hand held her down.
  
  It took several days for the events of the momentous morning to be
  sorted out.  Of the 728 left alive, many were injured: broken bones
  being the least of the problems for the triage teams that checked over
  each survivor.  All were dehydrated, and that was almost the first need
  addressed.  Internal injuries as well as concussions were more serious,
  due to a rough landing which had pitched the inert bodies of the
  passengers around the shallow decks, piling up and injuring those
  beneath them.
  Severe heat prostration had caused twenty major and minor heart at-
  tacks,
  which had probably been the cause of many more of the deaths.
  Of those from the lowest deck, only 39 survived: 4 humans, 9
  Deski, 12 Turs, 6 Ilginishs oozing green goo, and 14 Rugarians who had
  almost all their body hair singed off.
  Even those who had suffered no major injuries needed reassurance,
  proper
  food and counselling in that order to recover from their ordeal.
  
  The injured were transported by the air-cushion machines to Narrow for
  emergency treatment.  'Great ambulance service,' Leon Dane com-
  mented,
  'nothing to bump or jar 'em!" The Tur contingent were unusually docile
  from their recent horrific experience and pathetically grateful for the
  water and soup passed out to them.  The uninjured ones - forty in all
  were given such dire and terse warnings by Zainal in their own language
  about the dangers of the avian predators and nightcrawlers that they
  remained subdued as they were driven off to their new quarters.  Joe
  and
  Whitby headed the expedition with a well-armed guard contingent.  The
  first night out, Whitby also arranged a demonstration of what
  night-crawlers did to a dead loo-cow, and that had kept them cowed the
  rest of the trip.
  They did not even struggle when they were lowered, with cups, blan-
  kets,
  knives and generous supplies of the Catteni food bars, into the valley.
  Zainal also won a second victory, aided and abetted by Easley, Yuri
  
  He had also required Scott, Fetterman, Rastancil and Reidenbacker to
  attend.  It was a salutary lesson for each group.
  "They expected to be thrown into the field last night, didn't they?"
  Doyle asked Zainal when the biggest air-cushion vehicle was finally free
  of its ambulance duty and the Catteni crewmen were loaded aboard.
  "They expected death,' Zainal replied.  'They did not expect an Emassi
  to be in charge."
  "Catteni better learn not to underestimate us humans,' Doyle replied as
  he waved his stunner to speed up the loading process.
  The two crewmen Zainal had stunned were still not very steady on their
  feet, but none of their companions lent any assistance.
  "Mean sonsabitches even to their own, ain't they?" 'One of their most
  endearing traits,' Zainal said in such a facetious tone that Doyle
  nearly missed the sarcasm.
  As the vehicle glided silently off, the Drassi captain gave Zainal a
  
  bit,' she said and then inhaled sharply in pain.  Sarah was checking the
  blisters on her steam-burned hand.  There was nothing to treat it, nor
  the very tender soles of her feet.  The soles of her Catteni boots had
  melted on the hot deck-plates and, had she waited much longer, the
  injuries might have been even more severe.  Leon had seen her, rueful
  that he had nothing, even from the medical stores of the scout, with
  which to treat the burns.
  "I think there won't be any lasting damage, Kris,' he said, gently
  laying her hand back in the sling.  'Once that main blister has popped,
  it'll ease off and your body will take over the healing process. We do
  have that salve Patti made up which the cooks all swear by, to keep the
  skin supple.  Might ease the soles of your feet, too." 'I'm not
  complaining,' she said.  'Sarah was a little officious, taking you away
  from the ones who really need you." 'Oh, never fear, m'dear,' Leon said,
  grinning.  'We've got quite a list of specialists these days, you know.
  And a supply of the gas they use; it makes an effective anaesthetic." He
  gave a little shudder.  'Thank God.  Some of the repair work would have
  been barbaric without it."
  Kris had refused to go back to the Rock - wanting to stay
  
  venting the build-up to an explosion.  A pump was found, disconnected
  from the ship, and dropped into the nearby stream.  By combining all the
  hose on the Catteni ship, the fuel tanks had been kept from exploding
  and the reduction in temperature had saved other systems from reacting
  to the intense heat.
  "If they hadn't managed, the explosion would have altered the land-
  scape
  considerably,' Sarah went on, talking to distract Kris from her tender
  ministrations to the raw sole of her right foot.  'But the fuel got
  saved and there's plenty for Baby now." 'So that's why the Catteni were
  running away as fast as they could,' said Kris through clenched teeth.
  'Was the ship badly damaged inside?  Can we make use of anything?"
  Granted all she had seen was just inside the cargo area, with bursting
  conduits and pipes and hot deck-plates, but surely something was
  salvageable.
  Sarah grinned up from bandaging her feet with sufficient fluff to form a
  protective layer.  'You better believe it!  The entire bridge!'
  Really?"
  
  up and running.
  And solar panels on the hangar to power it.
  "Everyone's over the transport like ants, taking it apart. It's nothing
  but a shell now - which still stinks.  The mechanics and
  l
  engineers are having a field day with all these new treasures, even if
  most of the loot is secondhand, slightly damaged goods.
  But it's more than we've ever had to work with.
  "Then there's real competition over who can sound more Catteni than
  another.  More learned the language than you might think." 'I suppose a
  knowledge that didn't make you all that popular on Earth,' Kris mused.
  'But why is there a competition?
  You said the crew was sequestered in a valley." She tried to concen-
  trate
  
  bridge operational,' Kris grinned, for it was easy to see what was
  likely to happen next.
  "So, have they reported they survived?" Sarah nodded, grinning from
  ear
  to ear.  'Leon did it.  He's still the best, but not for long."
  "When do they expect this rescue vessel?"
  Sarah shrugged.  'From what Zainal discovered in questioning the crew
  -
  the captain wouldn't say doodly to him - it's a bigger, newer ship, with
  a longer range, and so we have to wait for another message from them
  when to expect them.  So there's plenty of time to prepare, rehearse
  and
  drill for their arrival." 'A bigger, newer ship?" Kris repeated.  Then
  she chuckled to herself, thinking of Admiral Scott's bridge being run
  from a hangar.  'And we'll have three ships!" She was so proud of Zainal
  that she wriggled in the bed.
  Sarah grinned fatuously at her.  'Scott's even acting as if Zainal's not
  
  risks.  A bigger, newer ship would be better captained and crowed.
  But then surprise was still on their side.
  The dressings now complete, she glared down at her feet.
  They'd better be completely healed; she had to be able to be at this
  second enactment of Phase Two.
  f
  Scott insisted on interviewing them first as to their Earth-side
  activities.  Once satisfied, he turned them over to Zainal who tested
  their skills by having them read out loud from log entries.
  "They read Catten well,' Zainal said, passing all three.
  Later, Easley asked if he'd spoken truthfully or merely to get.
  out himself out of a very boring task.
  
  stand in for the transported stranded crew.
  "You're certain they're coming back for the crew?" Beverly asked Zainal
  at the very beginning of this new venture.
  "That was the message,' and Zainal had shrugged.  'They will not hurry
  to do so.  The crew would be safe in ship, away from us who are
  dropped." Scott might not have been certain of Catteni altruism in
  collecting a stranded crew, but he was also counting on it as a
  replacement for the useless hulk in the Drop Field.
  Zainal gave Kris a list of the most frequent commands, which she wrote
  down with phonetic translations, so that all could learn them and learn
  the proper responses of both Drassi and ordinary crew to commands.
  Rank
  had some privileges.
  "Catteni crew don't talk much,' Zainal said.  'Just obey."
  "They must also know what is being said so they can act on their
  initiative if that becomes necessary,' was Scott's reply.
  
  Scott gritted out a surly 'Yes' and went back to the diagrams
  When Zainal spent more time explaining to the mechanics and engi-
  neers
  what the salvageable material had been used for, they could more
  knowledgeably adapt it to their needs.  Once the bridge was sited and
  up
  and working again, Scott preempted him to translate the data on the
  transport's log files.
  "Much is routine,' Zainal said, scrolling at a fast pace through the
  entries.
  "But we need to know where they have been, how long it takes, the
  protocols they use .  .  ." Scott said, scowling.
  "I think I've found someone from the latest Drop who can manage to
  translate routine reports,' Easley said, once again diplomatically
  inserting his presence.  'In fact, several someones who have a good
  working knowledge of the glyphs.  Learned to help decipher Catteni
  
  i  Zainal had contrived of what he 'thought' the interior of the new
  transport should be.  He hadn't had an opportunity to inspect any
  himself.
  "Designed to carry more with fewer deaths,' he said in summary.
  "Just being newer is improvement."
  The engineers and mechanics at the meeting agreed to that.
  "Some of the controls were wired together, and I dunno what they used
  to
  keep the drive units operating,' Peter Snyder said.
  He'd been a jet-engine propulsion engineer and was fascinated by the
  Catteni drives: especially how they kept working in the state they were
  in.  By using the schematics in the manuals, he and the other aviation
  and space shuttle personnel were trying to reconstruct one working
  system from the remainders of four.
  "To know how it should work, mainly,' Snyder had said with a grin.  He
  
  The problem is knowing what tool you need next and how long you'll
  have
  to wait until he can contrive it." Kris, now hobbling on crutches with
  well-wrapped feet and a bandaged hand, accompanied Zainal to the
  various
  meetings as she still seemed to be the necessary verbal bridge for
  vocabulary for him.  Half the time she was floundering for technical
  jargon even worse than he was, but she was not about to admit that
  failing to anyone.  Probably Easley had guessed, but he was on their
  side.  Kris would be very glad when she, Zainal and their team could get
  back to what they were best at: exploring.
  Sometimes it seemed to her that Scott resented what Zainal had had no
  reason to learn - as far as details of his own species' space-drive
  technology included - and yet was forced to include the Catteni in all
  major meetings because of the little he did
  know and the insights he could provide on other details.
  "Scott's got an incredible mind for detail,' Easley murmured to Kris one
  evening during a long session.
  
  "But I don't,' Easley said, his low voice vibrant with sincerity.
  "He knows a man of integrity when he sees one, and he sees Zainal as
  one.  I don't think many of us had any idea of the role the Eosi play in
  what the Catteni do.  So he's abandoned the position of detesting the
  Catteni for what was done on Earth to come half-way to absolving the
  tool for the work it's been put to.  Zainal's responsible for that
  adjustment, without losing either dignity or respect in Scott's eyes."
  Kris absorbed that speech, feeling a little better about what seemed
  like Scott's persecution of her lover.  But she was only half-way there
  herself.
  Once again, when the extra-acute hearing of the Deski sentries caught
  the first sound of the approaching vessel, they alerted the camps before
  the landing ship announced its imminent arrival on the communication
  band.
  The 'bridge' accepted the message with typical Catteni stolidity as
  Zainal had drilled them, reaffirming the coordinates of their downed
  
  and Shutdown - cleared away any signs of orderly living.
  All the air-cushioned vehicles were stowed out of sight and there was
  some concern over people, scouts and hunters, who might be seen out
  and
  about.  Narrow, particularly, must appear deserted from the air.
  "They will know from heat signs people are on the surface,' Zainal had
  said, 'but not what they are doing or what they live in.
  Wiser for them to see men out hunting."
  "You mean they'll be counting noses?" someone had asked.
  Zainal laughed at the notion.  'No, just the presence of sufficient life
  signs to suggest survivors down here."
  "So they can send us more?" Mitford had asked in a sour tone.
  "At this point, it's the more the merrier,' Easley had said, grinning so
  infectiously that Mitford had smiled back.
  
  transport: some were outside, others sitting on the ramp, while the
  "Drassi' would not appear until their counterparts called for them.
  Camouflaged in the hedgerows and up the trees in strategic positions
  were sharpshooters with crossbows and lances.  Zainal had had no
  information about the crew complement of the new transports.  The
  Catteni to be rescued were armed with stunners, which might be all that
  was needed.  Surprise was on their side.
  It was, and the take-over of the transport ship was even smoother than
  the one hijacking the scout.  The supercilious Drassi of the rescue
  vessel had been so eager to mock the stranded captain that he had
  been
  first down the ramp, the other Drassi staff following, while the crewmen
  began to unload what passengers they had remaining.  They were
  laughing
  and chatting, pleased to be on the last leg of this journey and going
  home.
  They were also looking forward to making the rescued Catteni work
  while
  
  The mock-Catteni crew had, of course, jumped to an appropriate alert
  stance, calling out - in an excellent accent, Kris thought proudly - to
  those inside that the Drassi captain was coming aboard.
  They followed in, a respectful distance behind, and one remained at the
  open hatch, leaning against it as the rescuers finished unloading the
  latest unconscious dropees.
  They had no sooner finished than they were called to come aboard the
  wreck.
  "Now what do we have to do?" one Catteni demanded of another as
  they
  made their way across the field - or so Zainal translated for Kris.
  "Probably dismantle equipment the beasts might use,' the other replied.
  "Beasts, huh?" Joe muttered on the other sideof Zainal. 'We'll beast
  them." Zainal translated the first part of the Catteni response: 'Let's
  hope it doesn't take too long, then.  I need my .  . ." And he refused
  
  purposefully across to the newly arrived ship and up its ramp.
  There was a brief interval before he reappeared, waving his cap and
  showing the difference between his Catteni make-up and his own skin
  colour.
  "It's ours now!'
  The hedges sprouted humans, cheering and dancing with glee at the
  success of the second Phase Two assault.  Then they hurried to attend
  to
  the newly arrived, 114, all from Earth and in far better condition than
  many of the most recent arrivals.
  The Catteni prisoners were sent off to join their compatriots in the
  valley.
  Yuri Palit, another mock Catteni with his skin now back to
  its original shade, headed the guards who accompanied the prisoners.
  On
  
  log and the look and smell of still-new equipment.
  Zainal, Kris, Bert Put, Peter Snyder, Rastancil and Beverly were up all
  night, translating manuals and understanding the improvements
  incorporated in its systems.
  Best by far was the discovery of two small airships, capable of
  short-range planetary flight, and one large well-equipped ground
  vehicle, suitable for rough terrain, with exterior plating to resist
  many corrosive-type atmospheres.  Looking at its specs on its control
  board, Zainal said that it was also probably 'water-going'.
  "Amphibious,' Kris had murmured, and they had locked eyes and
  smiled.
  They would not have to risk using the scout being seen in order to get
  to the other continents.  This craft would hold twelve passengers and
  three crew, and would transport safely to at least the closest
  land-mass.  They'd better pick a day when the channel waters were
  calm
  because she didn't like to think of being seasick in such confines.
  
  worked in NASA or on air-force jets from various countries.
  The decks could be arranged in a variety of heights and ways, accord-
  ing
  to cargo or passengers, awake or unconscious.  Rather an ingenious
  arrangement, Marrucci and Beverly agreed, when Zainal showed them
  how to
  achieve various combinations.  So the KDL could actually accommodate
  the
  many who had some reason, or claim, to make the journey.  Some were
  going to have a chance in space; others because they had to learn how
  to
  manage the transport; and all
  l
  would help jettison the traces of the sudden and complete destruction of
  a brand-new ship.  Zainal had found log references to several minor
  incidents with the propulsion unit on the outward bound journey: one
  severe enough for the captain to shut down the engines and send an
  EVA
  
  ship - fortunately the components were all constructed of similar
  alloys.  With a little ingenuity in their messages to their Base, each
  describing further problems, and then .  .  .  a delayed action
  explosion, sufficient detritus would be left floating in space to
  convince anyone who cared to examine it that the KDL had, indeed,
  exploded on her way home.  An appropriate outer panel had been taken
  from the old transport, and paint found in the KDL's supply bay to
  duplicate her glyphs.
  The bogus outward-bound voyage was scheduled for a week, since
  Zainal
  wished to get beyond the system's heliopause, beyond the satellite's
  range, before conducting the explosion.
  Kris had remained behind, her hand insufficiently healed for her to be
  useful on the voyage .  .  .  especially when so many, like Raisha and
  other space-trained women pilots, deserved the chance.  Truth to tell,
  she was tired from late nights and long sessions of translating.
  And then Mitford had asked for and got the land vehicle for his scouting
  teams.  She'd be much more use familiarizing herself with that piece of
  
  nearest neighbour.  He was combining two teams for the project, and
  happier than Kris had seen him since he handed debriefing newcomers
  to
  Peter Easley.
  a
  j: 'Yeah, in fact they're three days overdue.  But the destruction went
  off okay.  You know that." The link between the old transport's bridge
  and the KDL was open and all the mounting hysteria orders and
  counter-orders, as the propulsion system 'failed' - had been duly
  followed by those on the ground .  .  .  including the final bang.
  So that part had gone well.
  The Deski sentries were ordered to keep their ears wide open since
  their
  senses were trusted far more than the obsolete and erratic detection
  system on the 'bridge' in the hangar.
  Kris accompanied Mitford when they did a check on the Catteni prison
  
  "Chess?" Mitford regarded her with surprise.  'They haven't the wits for
  checkers, much less chess." 'Well, there's someone trying to fish,' Kris
  said, pointing to the one man poised over the stream with a thin lance
  in his hand.
  "So he is.  Even Catteni get tired of those dry rations,' he said and
  turned away.
  Yuri Palit, in his authority as head of Resettlement, had gone to check
  the Turs and came back with the information that they had already
  made a
  few shelters, chopping down the lodge-pole trees.  There also seemed
  to
  be several wounded lying in the sun: broken legs and arms, and one
  with
  raw wounds visible down his side.
  "Trying to climb out?" asked Astrid.
  "How stubborn can Turs be?" Yuri Palit asked of Mitford.
  
  on his way in.  'There are others as well as the other continents."
  "Now, about them .  .  ."Astrid began.
  Mitford held up one hand, grinning at the tall attractive Swede.
  "Gotta wait until Zainal checks us out on the amphibian." Which re-
  minded
  everyone that the KDL was now six days overdue.  Kris tried to appear
  unconcerned but possible disaster scenarios kept her awake most
  nights.
  "What could have happened?" Astrid asked the morning of the seventh
  day.
  'Surely they should be returning now?" 'That bang wasn't for real,' said
  Mitford, avoiding Kris's eyes, but speaking as positively as if he had
  consummate faith in Zainal's return.
  "There'll be a good reason, I'm positive,' Kris said so firmly that
  Mitford shot her a quick look.
  
  "It would be a good idea for him to get in touch, either, and give it
  all away since the ship's been destroyed and that damned satellite
  would
  catch any message he sent." 'You're right there,' Mitford acknowledged
  and then went to do something else.
  "New satellite,' Zainal told them as soon as the hatch opened to the
  crowd waiting so anxiously.  'We go .  .  ." and he gestured a
  circuitous course.  He looked for and found Kris at the side of the
  hatch.  'Lenvec's work." He dropped down beside her, touching her
  cheek
  just briefly as the rest of the space-farers exited, exultant in their
  shouts to the welcoming committee.
  The biggest smile was on Scott's face as he came down the ramp with
  Beverly, Rastancil and what were now being called the High Command
  following closely.
  "Mitford, Easley,' Scott called out, and added other names,
  'meeting at 19.30 at Narrow.  Beggs,' and now the officious lieutenant
  
  the general jubilation around the hatch.
  "Lenvec got them to put up a more powerful satellite spy?" she asked.
  "Someone did.  We had to time its orbits to sneak back in.
  KDL is very good at glide."
  "You glided?  From where?"
  Zainal grinned at her astonishment.  'Not hard.  Your space shuttles did
  it.  Catteni still better space jockeys." 'Jockeys?" Kris had to admit
  to herself that she didn't like him picking up slang from other sources.
  And she severely curbed her reaction.
  "Bert brought her down.  (food man, Bert.  Now, where can she hide?"
  And
  Zainal frowned over that problem.
  Kris looked up the field at the hulk still sitting there. 'Put it there.
  They expect a wreck in that place.  How much detail will the satellite
  
  Kris shrugged.  'That thing's too big to fit in any garage except maybe
  the one we can't get into at the seaside.  Who will come looking for it?
  You had us all excited, listening to orders and counter-orders and all
  the hysterics .  .  ." Zainal chuckled louder now, his yellowy eyes
  reflecting his laughter, most un-Catteni-ish.
  "And if you guys avoided the satellite's eyes on the way in, surely
  we've succeeded in deceiving them." 'Some one of your wise men said
  once,' and he tipped his head back a moment, recalling the exact words
  which he carefully enunciated, 'that you can fool most of the people
  part of the time, but not all of the people all of the time."
  ]She had to smile at him, he looked so pleased with remembering the
  apt
  quote.  And she was so pleased he was back, safe.
  "You think Lenvec is that vindictive?" 'Not think.  I know.  When I was
  chosen .  .  ." He paused briefly and then went on, 'I was given
  privileges the chosen have, Lenvec was .  .  .  jealous.  If he is now
  to take my place as chosen, he will feel like he got robbed." He gave
  her a sideways glance, to see her reaction to his slang, and she grinned
  
  that.  Fortunately,' and now he put his cheek down against hers, holding
  her tightly, 'I was dropped and I stay."
  .%
  Kris was not the only one who thought of leaving the KDL right out in
  the open.  An artistically scorched glyph took the bright new KDL-45's
  place, but there were actually no other options, even if they could find
  a Farmer facility big enough to house it.
  The ship was not just a trophy, gathering dust, although how it would be
  used was yet to be decided.  Scott had approved Phase Two but who
  knew
  if the admiral, who seemed to have taken charge of the military aspect
  of the High Command, felt they should attempt Phase Three.
  The KDL settled itself on the wreck, compressing its empty shell.
  The Deski sentries would give enough advance warning of any landings
  .
  
  "You know someone might just think it was odd that there have been
  three
  ships blown up in this area,' Leon Dane remarked at the end of the final
  debriefing, 'and decide it isn't worth visiting this sector of the vast
  Eosi-Catteni empire, and leave us alone." 'I doubt that,' Easley said
  with a sad grin.  'According to the latest arrivals, Earth's resistance
  is growing and the Catteni are still taking anybody they think might be
  saboteurs and ringleaders into custody.  We had a troop of Sea Scouts
  in
  the last group, and all they were doing was holding their monthly
  meeting.  We may end up with more of Earth's population here .  .  . and
  wherever else they've been dumped .  .  . than on good old Terra
  Firma."
  'If we can maintain a good fresh start
  approach on Botany and ditch the attitudes that made trouble back on
  good old Terra Firma,' Mitford said, with good reason to doubt the
  ability of people to forget ingrained intolerance and bigotry.
  Serving time in the stocks right now were three men and a woman who
  had
  
  "Too right,' Dane agreed, exhaling tiredly.
  Once the excitement of procuring and hiding the KDL calmed down,
  Scott
  and others of the High Command, military branch spent hours debriefing
  the latest arrivals from Earth, trying to figure out what had happened
  from reports which were necessarily incomplete.  Not much news was
  broadcast any more in a world which had had twenty-four-hour news
  bulletin coverage.
  "Disasters every time of the day or night,' Kris had said.
  "Do they do that on Catten or Barevi?" Sarah had asked Zainal when
  they
  were all sitting around their table after the evening meal in Narrow.
  "Tell everyone everything?  No,' and Zainal chuckled at the notion.  His
  grey hair had grown so long now that he was wearing it in a pony-tail, a
  style that suited him better than most.
  
  going to figure that one out himself.  'Yes, to join spacearmy." He got
  a thumb's-up for accuracy from the others at the table, their scouting
  partners and those from Astrid's six-strong team.
  They spent a lot of time together, learning how to drive the amphibious
  machine so that anyone could.  The mechanics had been all over it, too,
  familiarizing themselves with its equipment, engines, systems,
  communications and life-support.  While Mitford was ranked a senior in
  the High Command Committee now governing the settlers, he still had
  to
  get 'proper clearance' to take such a valuable piece of machinery.  He
  also needed Scott's clearance to take Zainal away when he might just
  be
  needed.
  For something, any damned thing, rather than let us function as a team,'
  Mitford had ranted the previous night.  They've got both bridges
  manned,
  and the KDL working off solar power, and we still have the Deski
  perimeter listeners, so little can sneak up on us down here. If they
  really needed him, Marrucci could fly over in one of those atmosphere
  
  power.  The amphibious vehicle might possibly be visible - since it was
  no longer supposed to exist - so he had plotted a course and they would
  move only when the satellite was at another point around Botany's
  globe.
  It might take slightly longer to reach the coast but once in the water,
  he thought that the Tub would be undetectable since water would not
  only
  cool its exterior but mask its emissions.
  Kris's hand was still slightly red but her feet had healed, even if she
  was careful to keep a layer of fluff as an insole.  And she
  dearly wanted to leave Camp Narrow for Mitford's sake as well as
  Zainal's.  She tried to convince herself it was just the wanderitch that
  made her restless because she didn't think she had a trace of
  precognition in her, but she did very much want to leave.
  To go explore the neighbour continent.
  Fully accustomed now to its new form, Eosi Mentat Ix was bored.
  
  Catteni mind when it had been subsumed.  And Ix accessed the memo-
  ries.
  A brief exploration would discover if the entity's suspicions had been
  valid.  Ix was somewhat startled to discover that a more powerful
  satellite had been put in position around the subject planet.  The
  entity's traces grew alarmed within the Mentat as the most recent report
  was mentally gleaned from those on duty.
  The scout ship had disappeared, and no trace of it been found any-
  where
  in Eosi space: it had not refuelled at any station, planetary or space.
  Nor could the satellite find that sort of metal shape on the subject
  planet.  The matter of the wreck of the transport was resolved by the
  interchange of communications between the KDL and the downed ship.
  The
  KDL, the newest of the transport fleet, had taken off after discharging
  its cargo and been tracked out of that solar system .  .  .
  by both satellites.
  
  The Eosi Mentat ordered a search for the log of the KDL which should
  be
  found in the space debris.  It was.  Within the tiny fraction of Ix's
  great mentality, an infinitesimal scream insisted that such events were
  suspicious.
  Ix screened the orbiting satellite's records and found only the wreck
  that had been left where it had landed.  Then Eosi Mentat Ix was called
  to a meeting of its peers, to determine what must be done with the
  increasing problems experienced by Catteni occupying forces on the
  latest planet they had subjugated.  Such continued resistance was
  unique, even bizarre, and the Ix was caught up in deciding what punitive
  measures to take that would completely solve this problem.
  However, all Eosi found themselves rather fascinated by the scope and
  originality of the opposition to their benign rule.
  The general maintenance orb reached the target planet and found its
  near
  space occupied by two technological items: one orbiting in a
  thirty-hour, total global pattern, and the other geosynchronous.  These
  
  continents and discovered anomalies throughout a large area, suggest-
  ing
  malfunction of the indigenous equipment on an unprecedented scale.
  Checking inventory against what should have been idle at this time of
  the planet's growing season, it could discover parts of the equipment
  but not in the usual form.  This abnormality was duly noted.  There did
  appear to be more life forms than the natural propagation of the
  indigenous
  species would ordinarily produce.  There was no possible way inI
  which such a bovine species could damage, much less alter, the ma-
  chinery
  that husbanded it.  The orb was programmed only for mechanical de-
  vices,
  inventory and supply: it did not examine life!
  forms; that was another department.| It completed the necessary circuits
  at the altitude programmed into it for the maximum efficiency of
  requiredI investigations, sent its findings back to its home world and
  continued on its scheduled maintenance cycle.
  
  any.
  "Then it can't be Catteni,' replied Rastancil, watching behind Marrucci.
  'They don't have that capability .  .  .
  "Yet,' Marrucci added, sotto voce.
  The team at the Command Post reported a terrifying moment.
  "I felt like X-fles and being scanned by E.T.s.`reported the generally
  sanguine Colonel Salvinato in a voice that noticeably shook.
  "Well, you're not alone.  Something's giving us a real goingover,'
  Rastancil replied, which he hoped would reassure the colonel; his body
  still tingled from whatever it was that had touched him.
  Salvinato reported in later that there were now two homing devices
  where
  recently there had been only one.
  "Replacements by matter transmitter?" Rastancil suggested,
  
  "The Farmers have finally noticed us."
  "Do we really want them to?"
  Mitford thought that over for a long moment and then shrugged.
  "Beats me, general,' but he grinned because this was not his problem
  any
  more.  And yet, it was.  Anything to do with Botany was.  'It was the
  only option I had at the time.  Still seems a good one.  Only no-one
  hung around long enough to speak to us.  So, what happens next?"
  Scott
  called an immediate meeting of as many of those from Camp Rock as
  had
  witnessed the fly-past of the Mech Makers'/Farmers' space-ship.
  Rumours circulated, and each lap doubled in improbability, stupidity and
  frightfulness, especially about the scan.  It was now variously supposed
  to have infected everyone with a deadly disease, and the entire
  population would die in twenty-four hours.  Others included the
  
  parts, and these were the last places where the arrivals sat) and stools
  formed a semi-circle around a table at which sat Jim Rastancil, Geoffrey
  Ainger, Bill Fetterman, Bob Reidenbacker, John Beverly, Pete Easley,
  Yuri Palit and the former judge, Iri Bempechat, who had recently taken
  over the disciplinary duties for work evasion or inadequacy.  Ray Scott,
  with his insufferable aide, Beggs, taking notes and counting noses, rose
  when it was evident that all who intended to come had arrived.
  "I hope none of you have suffered any repercussions from those ludi-
  crous
  rumours started after our recent visitation,' Scott began, with a rueful
  expression.
  He looked directly at Chuck Mitford, who sat with Zainal on his right
  and Kris to his left, with Dowdall, Cumber, Esker, Murphy and Tesco -
  his original assistants during the retreat from the First Drop field -
  ranged along the row: defenders who had made very certain that no
  hystericals got near the sergeant.
  Patti Sue sat just behind him with Jay Greene, Sandy Areson, Bart,
  Coo,
  
  the same shape they went to sleep in." 'Yes, that will solve that
  problem, but not the bigger ones we must seriously consider,' Scott
  said.  He looked at Zainal.  'I take it that phenomenal display had
  nothing to do with either Eosi or Catteni space-craft?" "Absolutely
  nothing.  The satellites' reports are going to cause a big stir, I know
  that much,' and Zainal grinned broadly.  'The Eosi won't like to see
  what came.  They will be very worried.
  Finally." 'You were a scout, weren't you, Zainal?" Bill Fetterman asked.
  "You ever encountered any traces of them in this galaxy?" Zainal shook
  his head.  'This is new solar system for Eosi and Catteni.  Which is why
  we,' and he emphasized the plural as he glanced around to include
  everyone there in the pronoun, 'are colonizing it.  What I know is that
  their technology is far superior to Eosi.  I also do not fear them as I
  do Eosi." 'You don't?" Scott was not the only one surprised by that
  admission.  'How do you arrive at that conclusion considering what just
  happened?" 'Because of what just happened,' Zainal said, as if that
  should be obvious.  'No-one was injured by scanning.  The homer was
  replaced.  No, I do not fear the Farmers.  A .  .  ." and he put his
  hand flat against his stomach, 'a .  .  .  gut feeling." 'Does anyone
  
  They nourish this planet carefully." 'Why don't they get rid of the
  night-crawlers, then, I'd like to know?" Dowdall asked sourly.
  "Very efficient in clearing up waste and garbage,' said Kris.
  "They made safe places to keep something in, or something out.
  Eosi do not do such things.  The Farmers are very different from Eosi .
  .  .  and Catteni." Lenny Doyle raised his hand, grinning. "I'd be a bit
  more apt to believe him if the Mechs .  .  .  the Farmers .  .  .
  hadn't nearly chopped us up for the crates.  But Zainal got us out
  before they could - and besides, the machines weren't programmed to
  know
  the difference between us and loo-cows."
  Dick Aarens made a low disclaimer.
  "Would that suggest the Farmers aren't bipedal?" Scott asked.
  
  Lenny began to guffaw at the notion, laughter he tried to stifle when he
  saw how he offended Janet.
  "C'mon, Janet,' Aarens said rudely, 'spare us that religious tripe .  .
  .  made in their image?  Shit, no!  Every single piece of equipment on
  this planet is a masterpiece of design, using renewable power sources
  and with easy access for self-repair and maintenance.
  No-one's been able to figure out what sort of alloy was used, but the
  machinery is practically indestructible." 'Until you came along,' Janet
  said angrily, stung by Aarens' snide manner.
  "That does not, however,' and Ray Scott jumped in quickly, waving for
  both of them to sit down, 'give us any insights into what course of
  action the Farmers might take when that orbiting whizz-ball of theirs
  reports that all the machinery in a goodsized section of their farmlands
  is no longer in operating condition." Kris covered her mouth to hide her
  grin.  She wouldn't have expected that sort of wry assessment from the
  admiral.
  "Let us not digress into useless speculation,' Scott went on.
  
  has been the last point of call for a scout-ship and two transports."
  'What about blaming the E.T.s for disappearing those ships?" asked
  Lenny
  Doyle with a bright grin.
  "That would be too much to hope for,'Jim Rastancil said, but he grinned
  back at Lenny.
  "The Eosi do not care what happens to a colony like this one,' Zainal
  said.  'But they will not like what happened today when they see the
  reports.  The Eosi believe that their technology is best." 'And they'll
  find it hard to swallow that it isn't,' Ra'stancil put in, quite
  satisfied with that turn.
  "So, it's the Eosi who are your inventors?" Ainger asked.
  "Yes.  They supply the plans.  Catteni build." 'You're sure they won't
  come after Botany because it has attracted such extra .  .  ." Rastancil
  asked, pausing for the appropriate tem, 'stellar visitations?"
  Zainal considered this.
  
  realize how low Earthmen are in their great minds and .  .  .
  serfs." He looked at Kris to see if he had the right word.  'They will
  spend much effort and time trying to find out who sent that very, very
  fast space machine.  Not,' and he paused for emphasis, 'why it should
  appear here around their penal colony."
  "That's a relief,' murmured Anna in the row behind.
  "That's some relief,' echoed Rastancil, sitting back.
  ù ; 'So we can put the Eosi response to this in the slow lane, then,'
  Scott said, 'but I doubt we can ignore the response of the Farmers." 'He
  thinks by calling them "Farmers", they won't scare us as much,' Janet
  remarked to Anna.
  Kris grinned over her shoulder at Janet, but the woman was whistling in
  the dark: her eyes were scared and her chin trembled slightly.  Anna
  Bollinger, who had left her baby son with someone for this meeting,
  looked even more frightened.
  
  cated
  by Easley leaning over to murmur something to the British naval officer.
  "My apologies, Miss Bjornsen, I forget how little you had at your
  disposal in the early days,' Ainger said, elevating his butt off the
  chair, 'Sergeant Mitford, no offence intended." 'None taken,' Mitford
  said equably and waved his hand, accepting the apology. The hand
  came
  down on Kris's leg, a reminder that he was well able to defend himself.
  "It was at the very least what any noncom should do,' Bull Fetterman
  said.  'Establish what escape route is possible to return to his
  regiment." 'We established a lot more than that,' said Dick Aarens,
  jumping to his feet.  'And we've done a damned good job of converting
  the Mech Makers' stuff to human needs.  Give us some credit, damn it!"
  'We do, I assure you, Mr Aarens, especially since you contrived so
  many
  of the improvements .  .  ." Reidenbacker began.
  "We'd better stop congratulating ourselves,' Mitford put in, 'begging
  your pardon, sir, but I'd like to hear what Admiral Scott now has in
  
  were there,' Jay Greene said.  'It just sailed overhead like some sort
  of .  .  ." and he waved his hand above his head, 'a monstrous
  dinosaur."
  "It didn't land?"
  "Not that we saw,' Mitford replied.
  "Zainal led a group of us back here, because we thought that's where it
  hovered,' Ninety Doyle said.  'We weren't that far behind it when it
  took off again.  There wasn't a bloody thing left of the acres of crates
  we had to climb to get out of here." 'So there was nothing in it of the
  speed and flexibility of what buzzed us?" Beverly asked.
  "Nuh-huh,' and Ninety shook his head emphatically.
  "Different yoke entirely." 'We sort of thought at the time,' said Jay
  Greene, 'that it was pre-programmed to do its job.  That there wasn't
  any life form aboard it."
  Rastancil whistled, impressed.  'Totally automated?"
  
  it is entirely likely that today's scanner is also totally automated,'
  Easley said, quickly changing the subject from that awesome concept.
  "We couldn't get any idea of the mass-of the scanner,' Rastancil said.
  'I was on the bridge when it began its orbit and the transport doesn't
  have much in the way of fancy detection
  L
  devices .  .  ." He looked over at Marrucci, who had been in the scout.
  The pilot shook his head, holding up his hands.  'I couldn't figure out
  what to activate on the board." He looked at Zainal.
  "The scout will not track such speed,' the Catteni said.
  "So essentially, we must wait until the device sends its reports to the
  Farmers,' Scott said, 'and then await results." 'Isn't there anything we
  can do to save us?" Anna Bollinger's voice had a slightly hysterical
  note in it.
  
  "There's a lot we can do, Janet, and that's why we're here.
  Now, we've done pretty well so far, haven't we?" he asked, and waited
  until she gave her head an unwilling nod.  'So just hold tight a bit
  longer, huh?" Then Mitford turned back to the front table.  'Since it's
  a fair bet that the scanner saw that we've altered all the machines that
  are supposed to be in the various garages and barns we've been using,
  why don't we start by clearing them out?  I'd also recommend that we
  explore that nearer continent with the view of taking up our residence
  there .  .  .  that is, if we find the Farmers haven't set up shop
  there, too." Scott was nodding acceptance of these suggestions; even
  Ainger looked less dour.
  "There're all those closed valleys on this continent, blocked to keep
  something in, or something out.  How many did we discover, Zainal?"
  Mitford turned to his right.
  "Several dozens.  We must ask the map woman, Sheila, for details."
  'The
  caves are ours,' Patti Sue said firmly, the last person Kris would have
  
  scan
  had done something to some folks after all.  She shuddered, deciding
  she
  wasn't going to think there could be the least bit of truth in those
  asinine rumours.  All products of insecurity and lack of
  self-confidence: certainly nothing with any factual basis.
  "If we give them back what we took .  .  .  ,' Janet went on and then,
  hearing Dick Aarens' contemptuous snort at that idea, she whirled round
  on him, pointing her finger.  'You're the one who started taking their
  machines apart .  .  ." 'Janet!" Once again Mitford called her to order,
  twisting round to face her.  'You're not thinking this through, and
  you're not a silly woman.  You've been such a strength to so Many who
  got here confused and scared." Sandy Areson had discreetly moved to
  sit
  on Janet's other side and now put a comforting arm around her shoul-
  ders,
  nodding once to Mitford to indicate she would take over now.
  "What was done, is done, and I doubt even the best of our mechanical
  geniuses could put all the parts back together again,' Scott said in a
  
  mess hall.
  "Furthermore we can prepare places for everyone,' Beverly said with a
  big smile, 'if what I've seen of some of those valleys is any
  indication." 'The other continent's a better idea, General,' Mitford
  said, rising from his chair.  'Especially as we now have the Tub to do
  reconnaissance.  Which I had planned to do anyway."
  "Positive action is always admirable, Sergeant,' said Scott,
  'and I suggest you complete your plans and get them under way as
  soon as
  possible." 'Will Yuri's group start immediate evacuations, too?" And
  Mitford swung half-way round, indicating Janet.
  "You better believe it,' but it was Reidenbacker who answered the
  question and he gave Janet an encouraging smile and a thumb's-up
  gesture.  She made a pathetic little sound in her throat but managed a
  brief smile, still twisting her hands nervously in her lap.
  "They'd better consider that there'll be a lot more newcomers reacting
  
  teams to implement them.
  Now, I know some of you have been upset by the whizz-ball we had this
  morning .  .  ." His label for the orbital caught everyone's attention,
  and he grinned to see its effect.  'But we don't want to start another
  batch of rumours with those who still feel insecure here on Botany.
  Let's be careful how we discuss this meeting outside the mess hall,
  shall we?  I ask all of you, by whatever you hold sacred, not to start a
  second wave of ridiculous rumours.  We'll do as much as humanly pos-
  sible
  to rectify our misappropriation of housing and effects.  Certainly our
  first priority is getting people out of our landlords' buildings and to
  safer places, like the valleys.  Equally important is preserving the
  equipment we need to conduct an orderly evacuation." Chuck Mitford
  turned round to those behind him.  'Keep in mind, folks, it's taken the
  Farmers more than nine months to discover we're here.  I'd say we have
  plenty of time to get elsewhere and at least sweep the garages and
  barns
  clean before we leave.  Right, Janet?
  Anna?"
  
  Both Janet and Anna obviously responded to her remark and looked
  less
  despondent.
  "Of course,' Patti threw them all by adding ingenuously, 'they might not
  come until the growing season starts and we don't even know when
  winter
  ends, if this is winter." Zainal got to his feet again.
  "I like the idea of moving us all to the other continent if it is okay,'
  he said.  'I think we should go soon.  The airships can look at the
  other land-mass.  It may not be as barren as it looks from space.
  If it is, they can help us search." Ninety got to his feet as soon as
  Zainal sat down.  'There are a lot of those closed valleys, too, which
  obviously weren't used by the Farmers.  Maybe we can put people in
  them." When he heard protests arise, he added, 'With stairs to get out
  when you have to.  The valleys grow trees and bushes.  We could
  transfer
  a lot of the stuff we've been growing to feed us to the valleys.  And
  aren't the Turs and Catteni trying 'em out for us?" He grinned broadly,
  
  in the hall.
  "We all helped,' said Joe Latore, and turning around in his seat, looked
  straight at Dick Aarens.  'Didn't we?"
  Aarens noticeably ignored him.
  "Yes, but what happens if we move to the other continent?" Anna
  Bollinger asked, her face crumbling with fear, 'and they come after us
  there?" Janet immediately put a reassuring arm around her shoulders
  and
  glared around.
  "Hell's bells, missus,' Ninety said, 'there're caves all over the planet
  they'd never find you in.  And probably caves across the channel, too,
  wouldn't you say, Zainal?"
  Kris turned round, one hand going to Anna's knee.  'We know
  it's your son you're really worried about, Anna, but why borrow any more
  trouble than we've already got?" 'Which brings me to the subject of the
  
  similar?" 'First, it will be discussed.  Second, the satellite checked
  for faults that what it reported is true.  Third, they may send someone
  to see what happened to us." Zainal obviously doubted his third point
  was likely.
  "Fourth, what if they send us more colonists?" Sandy Areson asked.
  Zainal considered that for a moment, dropping his chin to his chest.  'I
  think no more colonists come for a while now, Sandy." "Especially since
  it's been unlucky for them to land on this planet,' Aarens put in,
  chuckling.
  Zainal went on as if Aarens hadn't aired his wit.  'They will not
  believe the speed of the whizz-ball." 'And they will know that it did
  not originate in this solar system?" Scott asked.
  Zainal nodded.  'They will think a long time before they do anything."
  'Good,' Scott said, rubbing his hands together. "Then that will give us
  time to remove ourselves completely.  As I understand Catteni colonial
  policy, Zainal, they might even abandon the planet as unsuitable.  Is
  that right?"
  
  The upshot of the discussion was not a referendum after all, but
  the organization of scouting parties to check out every single one of
  what Ninety Doyle tagged 'lonesome valleys'.  Small groups would
  quarter
  in the valleys to discover any unusual denizens, though none had been
  seen in either of the other two inhabited places.  Once Mitford had
  organized the basics of those explorations, he left a sheaf of
  instructions with Easley as 'the manual' and roused the members of his
  combined team.
  They set off before second moonrise since the amphibious vehicle had
  lights.  It also had excellent suspension, because Mitford slept his
  usual six hours as Zainal drove it over surfaces rough and smooth.
  The driver sat in the centre of this vehicle, with seating for two on
  either side and control panels across the width of the 'command'
  position.  Zainal gave demonstrations to his relief drivers, Joe Marley
  and Astrid, conducting a running lesson on the vehicle's potential and
  what each control was supposed to show, what the various icons on the
  
  "A man who will read manuals!" Sarah gave a sigh of exaggerated re-
  spect.
  Joe gingerly tapped the 'glass' of the slit window beside him.
  "How much pressure will this stand?" 'Enough.  We will not go deep. Is
  more built for cor-ro-sive atmospheres,' Zainal added.
  "Which is to close vents, Astrid?" he asked, testing her memory of the
  functions on the panel in front of her.
  "This one,' she said, promptly pointing to it.
  "Got it in one,' said Zainal and Kris, seated behind him, chuckled.  He
  leaned back.  'I learn new ones every day, don't I?"
  "I, too,' said Astrid proudly.
  "You sure do, Astrid,' Joe agreed, grinning at her.
  
  "Any time, cobber,' she replied.
  The point at which they were headed was close to 500 miles from Camp
  Narrow, and the intention was to drive straight through to their
  destination with only brief halts to let air circulate through the Tub.
  It was such a new piece of equipment that it reeked of paint, oil and
  other strong odours and needed to have its air system flushed out,
  especially before they submerged.  So they stopped from time to time,
  to
  brew tea and relieve themselves.
  By midmorning the next day, the sea sparkled ahead of them.
  Visible without benefit of the binoculars was the irregular lavender
  coastline of the neighbour land-mass.  The water before them was calm,
  with gentle ripples curling over onto the beach.
  "Further away than Dover from Calais,' Astrid said, for she had
  travelled extensively in Europe in her college days.
  
  "That's far from slow,' said Joe, impressed, and he peered at the
  sloping shoreline.  'Shallow?" he wondered.
  "We'll find out soon enough,' Mitford said.  'All aboard,' end he called
  in Astrid, Bjorn and Jan who had been searching for clams on the peb-
  bly
  shoreline.
  They had no sooner reached the flotation point for the Tub than a quick
  ping began to echo from Joe's panel.  'Sonar?" he asked and then saw
  the
  gauge that was lighting up.  'Or something like it.  Are you taking us
  down, skipper?"
  Zainal shook his head.  'Distance to bottom."
  Water was reaching the slit windows now and covering twothirds of the
  main one, and the slight movement of the waves could be felt.
  "I forgot to ask,' Mitford said, 'does anyone on board get seasick .  .
  .  besides me?"
  
  "He's teasing you, Leila,' said Kris.
  "Maybe I'm not,' Mitford said, staring down at the basin.
  "Are you claustrophobic?" Kris murmured.
  He nodded.
  "Oh,' she said, in as sympathetic a tone as she could manage.
  No wonder he hadn't been so keen to fly in Baby.
  "The way the Tub is moving, serge,' Joe said in a very cheerful tone,
  'we'll be there in no time at all.  No time at all!'
  "Just think of it, Chuck .  .  ."
  Mitford put a hasty hand on Kris's shoulder.  'Don't .  .  . use that
  particular word, will you?" 'Ooops, but you are first to cross this
  channel, or strait, or whatever it is.  Can we name it after you?"
  
  onto a sandy beach, dotted with the same sort of shrubs that grew on its
  neighbour.
  "Clams, too,' said Astrid, pointing to the air holes as they all emerged
  from the Tub, once again flushing out the 'newness' smells.
  "We get some?" she asked Mitford.
  "There's plenty of time,' he said, shading his eyes to glance up the
  slope that led inland.  Then he glanced down at the map he had taken
  from his pocket and unfolded it.  'We're about here,' he said, pointing
  and then cocking his finger due west.  'Should be higher ground this
  way.  Zainal, Kris, Astrid, Bjorn, Whitby - let's have a bit of a
  recon." And he strode forward.  'Joe, you're in charge of the Tub,' he
  added.
  When they reached the first height and had an overview, there were
  green-covered stretches in either direction and right back to the
  distant hills.
  "Like loo-cow pastures,' Bjorn said, pausing to dig a toe through the
  
  "No such insects in loo-cow pastures,' Bjorn added.  'May be no
  night-crawls, too." Kris looked around her.  'We should be so lucky."
  She tried to remember what she'd learned in geography about terrain.
  "This looks exactly like the landscape over there,' and she pointed over
  her shoulder at the distant mainland.  'Could there have been some sort
  of subsidence to separate the two .  .  .  or maybe the gap just hasn't
  closed as it did on Earth in prehistoric days.
  Continents used not to be the way they are now, you know.
  Maybe this is a young land .  .  ." 'No, this is an old planet,' said
  Whitby.  'No volcanoes on those space maps at all, and a lot of the
  hills are worn down.  But this place does look like the same sort of
  terrain that we just left." 'Then why is it not farmed?" Astrid asked,
  her usually serene expression marred by a frown.
  Mitford shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat.  'Who knows, but
  we'll keep in mind that, if it looks alike, it could be alike and we
  might have night-crawlers here, too.  We'll bunk in the Tub tonight."
  
  Let's split up into two groups.  You head north, Zainal with Kris, Coo
  and Bjorn.  You, Slav, and the rest, we'll go south." Several times,
  Bjorn stopped to check the soil again.  It was good, black and moist,
  but not too moist, full of small creatures to keep it loose.
  "Plenty good for farms." 'Then why aren't there farms here?" Kris asked,
  almost aggrieved.
  "We will find the reason,' Zainal reassured her, touching her elbow
  briefly.
  "They farm well enough on the main continent.  Don't need this one,'
  Bjorn said but he didn't sound all that convinced.
  "And the closed valleys?" Kris asked.  'They're even more enigmatic."
  'Perhaps,' and Bjorn considered his words, 'they used them to keep
  animals in.  Safe from the night crawlers."
  "Where are the animals now, then?" Kris demanded.
  
  position.
  Joe had wasted no time in digging for clams; Leila and Oskar had
  caught
  several varieties of fish and, having tested them in the Tub's small but
  efficient laboratory unit, found them safe for humans to eat.
  Sarah contributed some familiar edible roots and greens found near a
  stream.  Among the Tub's supplies were small cooking units which were
  occupied by boiling pots of clams.  A grill had been laid across stones
  for the fish, and there was bread from Narrow among their supplies, so
  when Mitford broke out the beer everyone was in an expansive mood.
  ***
  The report of the unusual orbiting device was forwarded to the Eosi
  Mentat Ix, who had registered an interest in vrvthino to do with the
  colony planet.
  Ix snarled each time it replayed the record of the object, for the speed
  
  had been or was occupied by another species.
  Ix worried over all the little memories, having them repeated and
  repeated until every nuance was dragged out for inspection.
  The Mentat was pleased that Catteni had set up a second, more flexible
  satellite around the subject planet.  Unfortunately this satellite only
  emphasized the incredibly fast global search that had been conducted
  by
  the alien orb, and the anger of Ix increased at the implications of
  technical superiority over the Bosh Logic suggested that the original
  discoverers of that planet were re-evaluating the world.  What had it
  been programmed to discover?  And why had this object, too, disap-
  peared
  just beyond the heliopause of this solar system?
  Ix summoned a meeting of those of its fellow Mentats who were
  sufficiently cognisant of their responsibilities to be useful in
  formulating a course of action.  In lightning exchanges of information
  as unlike the torturous communications with their subject Catteni as the
  orbiting object of the Unknown was unlike their own satellite units - it
  
  its peers decided that it must undertake the onerous
  .., .e,.
  journey, forgoing its usual pleasures and routines.  Fortunately it
  could pass the tedium of the voyage in a suspended state, but that
  amenity required some alterations to the newest and fastest Catteni
  warship.  The delay annoyed the Ix still further and it amused itself
  thinking of ways to punish those beings which had been instrumental in
  causing this discommodation.
  The Ix Mentat had just been awakened by the high-ranking naval com-
  mander
  of this jewel of the Catteni fleet when proximity alarms jangled
  fiercely all over the ship, which went into attack alert.  The mass
  approaching the Catteni vessel was so large, it was too large to be
  contained on the detection screen.
  Suddenly waves of force rocked the AAI as if it were a pod in a pond.
  The Ix, in a manner inconsonant with its dignity and size, grabbed for
  support until the buffeting subsided.
  
  r
  "It appeared on screen just as we passed the heliopause,' the com-
  mander
  said, not daring to raise his eyes to the towering Eosi, 'where other
  such devices have been seen to disappear." The commander had been
  well
  briefed on the problems of and connected with this colony planet, not to
  mention the extraordinary fact that the Mentat had not received its
  chosen of record but another in the bloodline.
  "What is it?" the Ix demanded.  Can you not show it?"
  The commander hastily called up on the nearest screen what had
  stunned
  his entire bridge crew.  The monstrous ship was ten times the size of
  the AA1, which itself was three times the size of the next largest
  spaceship in the Catteni navy.  The immense ship was obviously
  headed
  inward and at a rate of speed which would bring it to its destination
  
  How could another species have developed such technology without the
  Eosi being aware of their existence?  The Eosi had not bothered lately
  with anything more complicated than the Improvement in propulsion and
  cruising range, its present navy having been deemed sufficient for all
  practical purposes.
  Such an attitude of complacency was no longer permissible.
  "Watch it and record it.  Do not fail for an instant."
  "NO, Most High Eosi, not for an instant,' and the commander, reheved
  to
  have escaped with his life, strode as quickly as courtesy permitted away
  from the Eosi and back to the relative safety of his own bridge.
  No-one commented on his arrival, or moved an eye muscle from what-
  ever
  panel their duties bound them to.
  
  as the strange ship - magnified many times to keep it on the slower
  warship's view screens - dipped briefly into the atmosphere of the
  subject planet, then bobbed up again and continued on its way to the
  other side of the solar system.  Where, upon reaching the heliopause, it
  disappeared from even the most sensitive Instrumentation.
  The commander reported to the Eosi, who was ensconced on a huge
  chair in
  the cargo compartment which had been altered to provide it with the
  maximum comfort.  The chair faced a large screen which had already
  shown
  the Ix evrvthin the I: would have to report.
  "The planet is of no importance in the face of this,' and the Lost
  paused.  'Return to Catten.  At all possible speed,' and its tone was
  contemptuous of such a torpid rate now that it had seen a velocity that
  transcended the best of Eosi capabilities.
  "This must be reported - and countered." If, as the AA I passed through
  the heliopause of the system, a famt shock, like a low voltage of
  electricity, was felt by those awake, only a nano-second blip registered
  
  skim
  the very top of the stratosphere, skipping like a flat stone across a
  calm lake, before altering its course and flying off into space, taking
  its skull-shattering noise with it.
  Scott blinked, cleared his throat and managed to unclench his fists.  He
  had been in the KDL's bridge, his eyes glued to the incredible
  astronautic event delineated on the detection screen.
  No-one cared to break the silence, for no-one quite believed what they
  had just seen until a comunit beeped, an almost impudent noise
  considering the enormity of the recent event.
  "That's about the size of the first one, Admiral,' said Su. 'I think
  we're lucky it was so high up .  .  .  What's that?"Scuse me, sir .
  .  ." and the connection was broken.
  Dick Aarens came running full clip down the passageway to the bridge,
  catching himself on the door frame to stop, his face ashen and the
  expression in his eyes as close to awe as he was ever likely to come.
  
  just as flabbergasted as everyone else on the bridge, absorbed that
  news
  before Ray Scott or John Beverly did.  'Good thing we got the main
  garage cleaned out then, isn't it?"
  "It would have been very messy if we hadn't,' John Beverly
  remarked, then he and Peter burst out laughing.
  "Yes, but did they take the parts back?" Scott demanded.
  "The parts?" Aarens was confused.
  "I don't think so, Ray,' Beverly said, holding up the comunit usually
  attached to his belt.
  Aarens ran to the hatch but sauntered back to the bridge, a smug grin
  on
  his face.  'The air cushion's still there.  Maybe the Farmers didn't
  recognize what I'd done to their material." The newly devised com board
  of the KDL lit up with other incoming calls from Shutdown, Bella Vista
  
  that could cause back in Barevi or Catten or wherever the Eosi hung
  out.
  The machinery was back, replicas of every single model that had been
  disassembled by the colonists, in pristine condition and arranged in the
  appropriate order in each garage, barn or building.  The solar panels
  that had been taken down and installed elsewhere for the camps' needs
  were also replaced and seemingly operational.
  "Why aren't the machines moving?"
  "It isn't spring here yet.  Not the time to farm."
  "Weren't we lucky to have moved out in time?"
  "No messages with the unpacking?"
  "As if we could have read them?"
  "Was Kilroy here, or his E.T.  counterpart?"
  
  ''
  ,.
  "Get into those garages and remove the anaesthetic darts from the
  launchers before those machines are fully charged."
  "Won't such interference be noticed?" Beverly asked.
  "I sure hope not.  We took the first ones out when they were "down", but
  you'd want to do it before they get fully operational.
  Fill the reservoirs with water - that anaesthesia damned near put paid
  to a lot of us on the First Drop.  Lenny Doyle or Pess'll show you how;
  they've done it before." 'Any other suggestions, sergeant?" Beverly
  asked at his most respectful.
  "Watch out for avian predators.  Those machines can call them down on
  anything that moves where it shouldn't."
  
  happened,' he said, scratching his head in a measure of anxiety.  'Can
  we make a bit more speed on this thing, Sarah?" he asked, since she
  was
  the driver.
  "Sure, but it's about to get bumpy again."
  "We are not far now,' said Zainal, peering out of the front windows.
  "How long would it take the Eosi to do something, Zainal?" Mitford
  asked, now drumming restless fingers on his knee with his free hand as
  he clung to a safety strap with the other.
  Zainal shrugged.  'I do not think they can move as fast as Farmers. Eosi
  are not automated.  Nor do they have matter transmission." He chuck-
  led.
  "I sure hope it galls their souls to hell'n'back,' Mitford said,
  grinning.  'I sure hope it makes 'em squirm with envy and dismay." "Just
  so long as they keep out of our hair,' Kris added.  She knew that,
  despite Zainal's assurances, she wasn't the only one fretting over the
  
  New Camp Narrow was located in one of the closed valleys, south and
  east
  of the original cliff installation and itself suitably narrow but longer
  than most.  It had been opened up by the simple expedient of blowing
  the
  barrier down with ingredients taken from Baby's arsenal.
  Zainal had instructed several miners and an ax-ordnance officer on the
  explosive capability of the different substances in her lockers.  The
  original notion had been to use such combustibles for mining opera-
  tions.
  The Farmers had ignored the mineral and metal resources of the planet.
  Inside the appropriately long, narrow valley, Baby and the KDL were
  parked one beside the other; despite Baby's size in comparison to the
  larger, oblong transport vessel, she looked sleek, powerful and far more
  dangerous.  Parts of the wrecked transport had been utilized to make a
  fair-sized shelter nearby, and the returning explorers had no trouble
  identifying it as 'headquarters' from the flow of people in and out.
  Small tents of loo-cow skins dotted the other side of the usual valley
  
  Tables, benches, stools, a few chairs and a neat pile of blanket rolls
  suggested it was providing several functions, unfinished as it was.
  As the explorers swung round to park and dismount from their vehicle,
  they were hailed by many but no-one stopped working for more than a
  few
  moments.
  "I wonder where they stashed the airplanes and all the aircushions,'
  Kris wondered, noting their absence.
  "This wouldn't be the only valley in use,' said Mitford, stretching his
  legs.  'Okay, Kris, Zainal, Bjorn, Whitby, Coo, we'll make the initial
  report.  You got all the maps, Whitby?
  Yeah .  .  ." 'I have pictures,' Zainal volunteered, showing the mass in
  one big hand.
  "I have soil samples,' and Bjorn showed the little case he had made for
  them.
  
  % If the refinements of headquarters left a lot to be desired as they
  entered and looked around it, the essentials - including the yet again
  reconstructed bridge of the wrecked transport showed it to be in good
  working order and array.  There svere even 'offices', cubicles with
  woven reed walls to afford some privacy.  Old mech parts still doubled
  for stools, cupboards, shelving and benches.
  "D'you suppose the Farmers didn't recognize their own stuff?" Kris
  murmured to Zainal.
  "Bring your group over this way, sergeant,' called Scott, standing in
  the opening of one of the larger reed-walled compartments on the far
  side of the bridge.
  "Even has a ready room,' Kris murmured, this time to Mitford.
  "You're getting far too impudent, ma'am,' Mitford replied, though he was
  also peering at the equipment.  The wreck which had once been oper-
  ated
  from this bridge had never kept it in such good order.
  
  was oddly comforting.  'Business as usual." The other brass-heads sat
  on
  Scott's side of the desk.
  "It'd be a super place to settle a lot, if not all, of our people
  General,' Mitford said, pulling the stool closer to his legs before he
  settled on it.  Whitby was unfolding the map, indicating the scope of
  their explorations as Zainal arranged the photos of the sites that
  looked suitable for habitation.  'Though you look like you've settled in
  here well." 'Thanks, sergeant.  It is indeed a pleasant place, and
  there've been no indications of undesirable elements in any of the
  valleys we're utilizing." Scott had taken up one photo, and Kris nudged
  Zainal because she'd had a bet on with him that it'd be the one that
  took his eyes.  'Now this is a magnificent setting,' he said, and passed
  the picture to John Beverly on his right.
  "Thought you'd like the view of the harbour,' Kris said. 'It's deep
  enough for an aircraft carrier." 'What would you know about draught,
  Kris?" Scott asked, but he was clearly in a good mood.
  "The water's real dark down there,' she said, grinning.  'Too bad we
  
  sandy, or plain non-arable.  Look at the way this cliff has been
  hollowed out.  We could damned near hide the KDL in here. For sure,
  it'd
  take Baby and all our converted equipment.  This whole area shows
  signs
  of previous usage.  And we found another section further along that
  ridge that reminds me of the way the abattoir was set up."
  The four bent their heads to examine the suspect photos,
  and it was obvious they agreed with him.
  "We found two more garage-type installations further up here,' and
  Mitford indicated the positions on the map.  'We didn't concentrate on
  finding any more because they had so obviously been vacant a very
  long
  time." 'We think we saw some likely spots on the other side of the bay,'
  Whitby said, 'but the terrain was too steep for the Tub, so we didn't
  cross the bay." 'Is it possible that the Farmers have just allowed the
  land to remain fallow because they have enough here?" asked Scott.
  
  didn't use, so we've still got the ploughs and other farming junk.  I'd
  heard none of the scraps were vacuumed up or beamed or whatever.
  We
  only have to mount ploughs and stuff back on the air cushions and use
  'em for their original function.  No big problem!' "That's true, though
  some will not want to give up their runabouts,' and he winked at
  Mitford, 'for ploughing.  What about the scavengers?"
  "Nary a sign of them,' said Mitford.
  "And that's a puzzle,' Whitby said.  'We left out our garbage every
  night we were there - and found it still there the next morning.
  But the terrain is very similar to what we have here."
  "No night-crawlers on that continent?"
  "None we could find, at any rate." Mitford took up the recital.
  "We did find rocksquats, whole colonies of them up in the hills and just
  
  vegetables and berry bushes already grow there, and other vegetation
  is
  similar,' put in Bjorn, his expression glowing with pleasure.  'And fish
  and clams .  .  ." 'Roasted corn would have gone so well with them,'
  Kris said suddenly, and sighed.  'I'm sorry." Scott bent an
  understanding look on her and his lips twitched in a slight smile.
  "You're not alone." 'We may yet find something similar,' said Bjorn, his
  wide face eager to please her.  'We don't really have a complete
  catalogue of the planet's flora." 'By the way, Mitford,' Beverly said,
  'we disarmed the darts as you recommended.  That's quite a powerful
  anaesthesia!'
  "Indeed,' Zainal and Kris said in unison.
  "That's right,' and Scott turned to them, 'you were caught and
  subsequently saved another, less fortunate group." He paused a mo-
  ment.
  "If there are truly no night-crawlers .  .  .  There are many valid
  reasons for shifting our operations to that continent." Mitford leaned
  
  Here, we use transport at correct times so the orbital does not see -
  short trip.  If thrusters are used carefully, in short bursts, the
  geo-synchronous one will not show enough to read." 'Besides which,'
  Mitford said with great satisfaction, 'they don't even know we've got
  those ships.  And if they've any smarts at all, once they've seen
  reports of that monster, they'll stay the hell away from Botany."
  Everyone looked at Zainal, who looked right back around the table and
  then shrugged.
  .  .  ." Scott
  Not every valley being utilized as new accommodation was as far along
  in
  supplying shelter and other amenities as the headquarters establish-
  ment.
  Nevertheless, the thought of picking up again and resettling was met
  with a certain amount of resistance, especially from the technical and
  engineering groups who intensely disliked a second displacement be-
  cause
  they were already involved in various projects and didn't want to drop
  
  engineer in charge - since they'd already reached a good iron lode and
  wanted to continue working it.  While the Catteni space mapping did
  show
  mineral deposits on the target continent, they were loath to leave one
  that was already showing results.  So it was decided that they could
  continue where they were: they had an adequate work-force which
  could
  take turns hunting and supplying their needs, and the nearby caves
  were
  already habitable.  Judicious use of the KDL would bring ore to where
  smelting and fabrication processes would be handled.
  "What about the fuel situation?" Beverly asked Zainal at one meeting.
  'What happens if we run out?  We've scarcely the technology to make it
  even if the natural resources are available."
  Zainal grinned.  'I know where more supplies are kept."
  "You pirate,' Beverly said with a laugh, and then had to explain the
  tem.
  
  "Hey, can I go with you and see what's on display at the store?" Su
  asked, and Zainal pointed at Beverly.
  "Ask him.  We will not need to go soon.  Not much fuel is needed for
  short hops." Nevertheless, Zainal kept a close watch on the gauge on
  the
  first trip and, having decided on the minimum amount of fuel he could
  use and still reach a safe trajectory, tried to shave minutes off
  thruster use to preserve every ounce possible.
  Mitford had taken a full load of passengers in the Tub to start up the
  new location, leaving Zainal and Kris behind, helping to organize who
  and what would go in up-coming KDL transfers.
  The farming community wanted to be among the next wave, as it was
  essential to plant as soon as the danger of frost was over.
  So far 'winter' on Botany had consisted of cold, damp days interspersed
  with sunny cold days and a lot of early-morning frosts.
  No real storms, no snow despite cloudy days when the sky suggested
  
  rugs and long vests of rocksquat pelts were available.
  Not long after Mitford had left on the first of many Tub trips, Sandy
  Areson - who ran Headquarters Valley Canip - came over to Kris where
  she
  sat, eating a quick lunch in the Big Building.
  "Been trying to catch you alone ever since you got back from the other
  continent,' Sandy said.
  "Alone?  That sounds ominous,' said Kris.
  "It is and it isn't,' Sandy told her, 'and I have to agree with the
  basic logic of it as far as spreading the wealth is concerned." "What
  wealth?" Kris asked, puzzled.  Wealth on Botany meant hours of work
  applied to what 'extras' might be available, above and beyond essentials
  like food and shelter.  Even she and Zainal had done stints of kitchen
  duty.
  Although they were the only ones at the long table, Sandy leaned closer
  to Kris and said, 'Us,' pointing to her chest.
  
  hasn't been a Drop in four weeks, we're not likely to get more.  So, if
  we want to keep up a decent genetic pool .  .  ."
  "You mean, we're operating as if we'll never get off Botany?"
  Sandy gave her an astonished stare.  'We're dropped, we stay,' she
  said,
  'or don't you listen to what Zainal says?" Kris gulped. "I guess I've
  been naive after all .  .  .  I mean, we have the KDL.  We could get
  off." 'And go back to Earth?" Sandy looked even more disgusted with
  her.
  'You been away from the camps too much, gal, and involved with that
  hunk
  of Catteni.  Not,' and she hastily put up one hand, 'that I blame you. I
  didn't know they came in any variation of "nice" .  .  ."
  "People are considering him "nice", then?"
  "Hey, spare me the sarcasm, Kris Bjornsen - and yes, lots of people
  have
  got it through their thick and intolerant skulls that Zainal is a lot
  
  "Now don't get all silly about it,' Sandy said.  'We've got enough
  doctors here now, so you can just get inseminated with sperm at the
  appropriate time in your cycle.  I did.  I was one of the first,' and
  now Sandy patted her abdomen.  'Mind you, I chose the father."
  Kris gulped again, feeling distinctly queasy at the prospect.
  "Anna Bollinger's preggers, too, but she got formally handfasted to Matt
  before she did.  Janet's too old.  Patti Sue also did it the
  old-fashioned way, but I just wanted to warn you that you're on the
  list.  It won't be like being unfaithful to Zainal at all." 'That isn't
  my problem,' Kris said in a weak voice.  'How can I possibly get
  pregnant until we're all settled and we know what the Eosi and the
  Farmers are going to do?  What'd happen if .  .  ." 'Calm down, Kris,'
  and Sandy captured one of her waving hands and held it firmly in both
  hers.  'You're one of the last on the list, I should say, because your
  talents are more valuable elsewhere than in the lullaby line." Kris
  couldn't suppress her agitation.  She hadn't planned on having kids for
  years!  She was barely twenty-two, or thereabouts, since she'd lost a
  lot of subjective time on the way to Botany and hadn't a clue what sort
  
  "Anyway, we're going to set up creches and mincers who are maternally
  inclined so once a baby's here, you can ignore it completely if that's
  the way you feel about motherhood." 'That is just the way I feel,' Kris
  said, trapped.  Which she didn't add.  'When did this get decided?  This
  is the first I've heard of it." She was starting to get uptight now. She
  hadn't minded or complained about any of the duties she'd been asked
  to
  perform on this-alien planet; she'd welcomed the opportunities to show
  her flexibility and stamina and develop skills she'd never have used in
  a normal life on Earth.
  Sandy kept grinning at her.  'In case you're interested, you're going
  through the same phases that others have - including Astrid before
  accepting the inevitable." That jolted Kris; she hated reacting in a
  predictable way.
  Sandy chuckled now and patted her shoulder.
  "It won't be soon and it won't be as bad as you expect.  But I figured
  you mightn't have been told.  You've been out on scouting parties, so
  
  to keep it ours, and that means having a next generation to bequeath all
  our hard work to.  I like this planet .  .  ." 'Now!" Kris reminded her
  wryly, feeling a bit sheepish over her outburst.
  Sandy shook her head.  'No, I did from the start, because I could be
  myself here and what I knew was damned helpful, where back on
  Earth,'
  and she jerked her thumb over her shoulder, 'I was considered "fringe",
  or "weird" and "antisocial", nonconformist and definitely an odd-ball.
  Hell, here I'm running generals and admirals through my hoops as a
  town
  manager.  Sure beats the hell out of being "tolerated".
  And I'm not the only one who has found a real home on Botany.  I think
  you have, too, even if it means giving up nine months to producing a
  baby." 'I hadn't thought of it all quite like that .  .  .  I mean, your
  situation.  I mean, back there as opposed to all the things you've done
  here.  There's one matter that hasn't been taken into consideration,
  though,' Kris went on.  'The Farmers." 'Yeah,' Sandy said in a
  thoughtful drawl.  'But we'll-worry about that when we need to.  Right
  now .  .  .  cops,' and she stopped, looking in the direction of the
  
  Sandy's disclosure had really shaken her, and she'd have to sort all
  this out in her head.  Disregarding the unsolved and unknown Farmers,
  she had to admit that having kids on Botany would give the colony
  stability, not to mention a morale boost.
  Especially if someone who'd experienced the abuse Patti Sue had had
  could now contemplate getting pregnant.
  Kris found very little consolation in knowing that she wouldn't have to
  have physical contact with the male parent, although that route struck
  her as cowardly, if not downright cheating some guy out of .  .
  .  could she call it a 'good time'?
  Isolated from whet 'society' was available on Botany because of the
  scouting expeditions, she'd had little contact with other guys.
  Mostly she and Zainal had worked with other pairs, like Sarah and Joe,
  and Whitby who had attached to Leila although they seemed an odd
  couple.
  
  examinations to be sure they did not transmit sexual diseases, so these
  'girls' were 'clean'.  With a larger ratio of males to females on
  Botany, there'd been endless requests of the available women for sex-
  ual
  favours, on any terms.  Some of those terms put the offenders up in the
  stocks to cool off.  The arrival of the professionals had been greeted
  with considerable enthusiasm by Camp managers, so the women had
  been
  given the option of continuing their previous profession if they so
  chose.  When assured such practices would be considered 'work hours'
  for
  community benefit, all but two had decided to continue.  It was
  stipulated that they would still have to take their turn at the less
  glamorous chores of the camps, like kp and latrine, though they were
  excused from sentry duties.  But they in turn had laid down strict
  regulations about how they could be treated by clients and the number
  they would be willing to accommodate.  Proper respect was the first
  requirement - from the female population as well as the male.
  The puritanical among the Botany women refused to admit that the old-
  est
  
  "You look worried, Kris,' Zainal said as he straddled the bench before
  settling down beside her.  'Isn't the soup good
  today?" he asked, noticing her unfinished bowl.
  "Yes, it's good,' and she hastily picked up her spoon, though it was now
  only lukewarm.
  "Sandy says something to worry you?" He looked concerned.
  "Woman things,' she said, avoiding an explanation.
  "Mitford says you will have to bear a child for the colony.
  Maybe two." 'What!" Kris dropped the spoon in the soup, splashing it,
  and then becoming furious at such sloppiness, mopping hastily with a
  wad
  of fluff.
  Zainal regarded her with a very level gaze, one corner of his mouth
  
  brass-head,' she replied in a low and intense voice.
  He covered her hand briefly with his, squeezing her fingers.
  "You are young and strong.  You will be a good mother." Kris gulped.
  "No, I won't.  I'm not in the least bit maternal motherly!' She blurted
  out the denial, daring him to object.  'I'd make a lousy mother.  I'm
  not ready to have kids, I'm too young." He gave her a long look.  'It is
  not something all Earth women do?  Have babies?"
  "Not all, by any long shot,' she told him grimly.
  "I see,' he said slowly.  'It is not because you don't want to offend
  me?" 'I'm the faithful type, I don't want any man but you.
  Even if we can't have children,' she replied in a tight voice, looking
  down at the soup which now had a thin haze of congealing fat on it.
  "You do not need to sex another man.  Mitford explained it to me."
  'That's even worse,' she told him with gritted teeth, rolling her eyes.
  
  gotten so incredibly tangled up with Zainal, she might have tried to
  come on to the sergeant.  She had never once done so, nor had Mitford
  come on to her at any time: maybe she hadn't been mistaken in thinking
  that he'd have been interested in her if she hadn't paired off with
  Zainal.  Of course, he had kept her so constantly in Zainal's company
  that finally sexual tension had been inevitable.
  Zainal put an arm around her.  'Do not be this way, Kris.  It is no big
  deal." 'No big deal ?" She whirled on him, pushing his arm away, and
  had
  the satisfaction of seeing him recoil slightly from her expression.  'No
  big deal!" She started to get off the bench but he held her down,
  exhibiting far more of his strength than he had ever used with her
  before.
  "You are not a silly woman, Kris Bjornsen.  When it is time, you will
  have the child and I will help you.  Do not make it such a big deal."
  Then he got up and so startled her that she grabbed for his hand.  Had
  she lost face in his eyes because she was, indeed, being somewhat
  silly?
  If he didn't mind, why should she?
  
  needed to cool down and stop acting so stupidly.  She started at the
  point where Zainal had said that he did not mind her having sex with
  another man; he even wanted her to have a child.  All Catteni women
  had
  children whether they wanted to or not?  Then she coped with him
  choosing for her the man she respected above all the others.
  That suggested a sensitivity in the big Catteni most unusual for his
  species.  Or was Humanity contagious?  She knew he admired Mitford,
  too.
  Or had he and Mitford discussed a putative father of Kris Bjornsen's
  compulsory child?  Which she doubted.
  Mitford wasn't that sort of man.  And she couldn't really see the
  sergeant and Zainal exchanging man-o'-man topics.
  He returned with a bowl of steaming soup and a watchful expression on
  his face and, oddly enough, sympathy in his yellow eyes.
  "Thanks, Zainal,' she said, spooning up soup and blowing to cool it.  'I
  did over-react there, I think." 'I love you, you know,' he said in a
  
  two
  children; even the chosen had the right to produce heirs on Catten.  But
  he'd never said a word about the woman, or women, who had borne
  them. So
  he had not allowed himself to love? Because he knew he was chosen
  and
  would not live long 'es a man'?
  "Why do you cry .  .  .  now?" He was utterly puzzled.
  "For you.  Because you can love me."
  "It is not hard to do."
  She could hear the ripple of amusement in his voice and, dashing the
  tears from her eyes, looked up at him with as good a smile as she could
  present.
  "Eat your soup.  We have work to do soon,' he said very gently, and she
  loved him even more deeply than ever.
  
  Milky Way?  Secondly, how did the Others arrive at a technology so far
  superior to their achievements, and how soon could they match and
  then
  surpass it?
  Mentat Ix called to their attention the brief glimpse his shell had had
  of a comunit.  Logically, an investigation should be made of the extant
  equipment for insights into the construction of the machinery situated
  on the colony planet.
  Mentat Ix was assigned, with two younger Mentats which had techno-
  logical
  skills and inventiveness, to inspect and analyse the installations.  The
  warship AA 1 would take them there and also provide guards against
  any
  demonstrations by the indigenous population, who were known to be
  volatile.
  As the superb new warship reached the ionosphere of the subject
  planet,
  its new propulsion system developed a fault, an oddity indeed, which
  
  founded.
  It liked that no better than the other shocks this wretched back-water
  system had given it.
  The captain activated every safeguard provided by this latest example
  of
  Eosi/Catten engineering and technology as he continued into the
  atmosphere of the third planet.  There were no more life-forms detected
  than there should be, according to the numbers of prisoners sent there
  and the numbers Of lesser creatures previously assessed.
  There were 2003 fewer humans than the records of removal, but there
  would have been some casualties both in transport and since landing.
  The Eosi had stipulated that they land at the point where most of the
  Drops had been made, easily identified by the wrecked transport vessel.
  Teams of guards trotted out of the AA1, to make a quick surveillance of
  the immediate area and the wreck, and were halfway across the field
  when
  they were suddenly attacked by aerial creatures.
  
  in the propulsion section.  That, of course, was consistent to the
  reports from both the Drassi in command of the transporter and the
  rescuers who had subsequently lost their lives in the second accident.
  "Third,' Mentat Ix corrected the captain.
  'lord?" the captain asked nervously.
  "The scout ship also disappeared after landing on this planet."
  "My pardon.  I didn't know of that incident, Lord."
  "I do." And that was that.
  skiff, which was commodious enough for three Mentats and necessary
  crew.
  They saw nothing impressive in the facilities built into the cliffs, or
  in the machines that dutifully awaited the timely resumption of their
  pre-programmed duties.  In fact, the machinery was almost depressingly
  simple in design and function when compared with the orbital and the
  massive ship that had stunned the Ix on its first trip to this solar
  
  did not issue any immediate orders, but retired to its own quarters to
  meditate.
  Eventually Ix sent orders to the captain that the skiff must be readied
  for a second exploratory trip.  It took the other Mentats with it,
  showing the pilot where it wished to land.  It also required the pilot
  to hover when the glyphs carved into the hillside were noticed.
  "The message is in Catten,' Mentat Co said.
  "Yes, the renegade Zainal was here." The Ix Mentat gnashed the teeth
  in
  its host's mouth in a most unusual fashion, then peremptorily gestured
  for the skiff to be landed where once, as Lenvec, it had settled to
  remind a brother of duty owed.
  There was nothing on the site, merely more fields with hedgerows;
  nothing certainly that would have accounted for the chosen's escape.
  And only faded traces of where the scout ship had landed.  The Ix
  Mentat
  
  system.  Several emerged to observe the aircraft.  The skiff's detection
  equipment picked up the use of comunits, but on a frequency which
  could
  not be directionalized before the signal cut off abruptly.
  "They have more of those hand units,' the Ix Mentat said superciliously.
  "Does the Mentat wish to land and speak to the humane?" the pilot
  asked,
  as more emerged from the caves.
  "I have no interest in pests." But the Ix had been more closely
  observing the signature of the humans than anyone realized.
  Primarily it searched for the unmistakable signature of a Catten
  life-reading, and that was not visible outside or inside the caves.
  Deep inside the Ix's mind, one pathetic whimper trembled.
  "The humans appear to have moved about a great deal,' said Mentat
  Co,
  
  where the Catten signature might be found among the other conceritra-
  tion
  of humans.
  As the AAI lifted, having left a substantial declivity across most of
  the field with the weight of its visit, the Ix Mentat entered the bridge
  and stood behind the officer responsible for the life-form detection.
  "Set for Catten sign,' the Ix said, clicking its long nails together in
  a tattoo that had the Catten of fleer cringing with nervousness.
  The AAl made the next continent in a shallow curve.  It had not yet
  reached even the intended altitude when the screen gave off a brief blip
  - registering the presence of a Catteni.  It vanished so quickly that
  the duty officer wondered if it had been a legitimate sighting, but the
  Mentat was taking no chances and ordered the vessel to circle the point,
  a prong of land extending into the narrow channel between the two
  land-masses.  But again nothing registered on the screen.
  "An anomaly, perhaps,' the Co suggested blandly after
  
  as the 'babble' was screened for any sign of Catten.
  The Ix pondered a long while as the AAI held its position, using great
  quantities of fuel to do so.  Then, with an abrupt gesture, the Mentat
  Ix ordered the captain to return with all possible speed to Catten.
  The captain wished to do so as well, anxious to be rid of his Eosi
  passengers, and he gave the necessary orders .  .  .  and was nearly
  bounced from his command chair as the forward Notion abruptly
  ceased.
  The engines were still running, their pulse beginning to reach up to a
  whine of frustration as the ship met an impenetrable obstacle.
  "There's some sort of barrier, captain,' the helmsmarr said, looking at
  the opacity which held them motionless.  'It's all around the planet."
  'Destroy it,' the Ix ordered with an agitated wave of its long arm.
  The captain ordered a full barrage of all forward weapons, certain his
  fire power was sufficient for the task.  The ship rocked and crewmen
  covered their eyes at the resultant flash-back.
  
  to the deck many who were not holding on to something, including all
  three Mentats.
  Although several officers sprang forward in an instinctive effort to
  assist, the Mentats snarled away any help and slowly got to their feet,
  glaring around them.
  "Turn!" the Ix ordered the captain.  'I want to know what that barrier
  is and how it could impede this ship." The captain gave the order to the
  coin-board to switch to the stern view screen.  Nothing happened.
  "I asked for the view astern,' he roared but, while the communications
  officer cringed from his captain's anger, all his attempts to access the
  rear views came to nothing.
  "There is no response,' he said.
  "Damage report,' said the engineering officer, 'indicates problems with
  the arrays, sir.  It is an external problem." 'Fix it!' the captain
  said, bringing his fists down on the armrests.
  
  a considerable distance before that manoeuvre was completed.  The
  captain muttered unhappily when he saw how far they were from the
  misbegotten bubble, and an unhappy silence ensued in the bridge until
  they had returned close enough to examine the phenomenon.
  During that time, a damage report suggested that every protuberance of
  more than twenty centimetres and all the more delicate arrays had been
  snapped off.
  And indeed, as they neared the opaque bubble, it was obvious in the
  forward view-screen that every last one of the missing parts was
  embedded in the bubble, outlining the less fragile silhouette of the
  AA1.  And the bubble completely enclosed the planet, just short of the
  two satellites.  The orbital continued its programmed circuits, but
  there would be nothing on its tapes but an endless view of the bubble.
  "It admits sunlight,' said the science officer, relieved to find
  something positive to report for he had to add that its composition was
  totally unfamiliar.
  "Examine it thoroughly,' the Ix said, looming over the technician,
  
  The Ix stormed from the bridge with its juniors behind it, and the
  captain told the helmsman to return to the original course back to
  Catten.  Then he gestured for the corpse to be removed from the sci-
  ence
  station.
  "Hell, I don't know what it was,' Marrucci told the others gathered in
  the bridge of the KDL.  'Never seen anything like it pushed all the
  gauges off-line and it looked .  .  ." he paused, 'for a split second,
  as if deep space got lit up."  'Now let's not lose perspective here,'
  Scott began and then stopped.
  Beverly whistled under his breath.  'I know it can't be technologically
  possible,' he began slowly, 'but then a lot of stuff we've been seeing
  recently is so far beyond what we'd generally consider science-fictional
  that maybe we can stretch that little bit further and think that it's
  possible to put a barrier around an entire planet." "There's something
  out there now that wasn't there earlier,' Scott said, leaning on the
  edge of the scanner board and staring at it.
  
  they only had so much time .  .  ." he trailed off.
  "So, are the Farmers keeping us in?  And why did they let the Eosi ship
  in and then out?"
  "It blew a hole in the web and got out?" Marrucci asked,
  looking around the bridge for any other explanation.  'That might
  explain that flash, the Eosi blowing it open." 'There's no hole in it
  now,' Scott said, standing up again but not taking his eyes from the
  screen.  'And why was the Eosi ship here in the first place?" 'Looking
  us over?" Fetterman suggested.  They'd all been alerted by the Deski
  sentries here at Retreat Bay when the ship had over-flown them. Then
  the
  group at old Camp Narrow had informed them that the ship had landed
  in
  the Drop Field.
  Discreet observation had followed, and reported, every move, including
  the skiff arriving at the abattoir and the subsequent removal to the
  field near Camp Rock, and Worrell had reported the skiff hovering over
  
  I'm glad Zainal missed out if that's what he was avoiding!" 'I concur
  with what Worry says,' Leon Dane came on line.
  "I've never seen anything like that, not in Sydney nor in any of the
  material that we commandeered during our operations in Australia.
  There's a disease - elephantiasis - that causes something that looks
  similar.  But the gross enlargement of the head isn't at all like an
  encephalic abnormality .  .  .  No wonder ordinary Catteni are
  frightened by the Eosi.  They scared the shit out of me just now."
  Shortly after that report, the warship was seen to pause just over the
  channel, where it circled for a long time.  But time enough for those at
  Retreat Bay to complete the camouflage around the KDL and Baby,
  which
  were now housed in the big cave.
  "You don't think they've been looking for Zainal, do you?" Mitford
  asked.  'He'd've been about there,' and the sergeant pointed to the area
  that had attracted the Catteni hover, 'in the Tub." 'What effect does
  several fathoms of water have on Catteni detection scans?" Marrucci
  asked those around him.
  
  Having completed its programmed task, the bubble-drone assumed its
  monitor facet and observed the approach of a small spaceship which
  had
  just taken off from the subject planet.  It had, of course, observed the
  arrival and landing of the same craft earlier but, as it was not
  programmed to take any action at that point, it continued its primary
  assignment, extruding the material that would form the protective
  barrier.   However, when the spaceship did not heed the initial
  resistance of the barrier, it accessed its emergency instructions.  In
  that brief period of time of adding scope to its activities, the
  space-craft displayed force which had to be disseminated quickly
  through
  the barrier to diffuse the effect.  The further efforts of the
  space-craft to pass its confines weakened the barrier.  Then the
  instructions were available and the barrier assisted the expulsion of
  the hostile craft.  The substance of the barrier caught on and held
  protuberances and smaller exterior parts of the exiting body.  But the
  overall integrity of the bubble remained intact and the subject planet
  was now safe from external dangers, of which the space-craft could now
  be considered one.
  
  This time its purport was quickly examined by entities able to deal with
  the subject matter.
  By the time Zainal and Kris drove out of the water at Retreat Bay?
  they were aware of the excitement of those they passed who waved
  vigorously at them as they made their way to Headquarters in the big
  cave.  That's where they found Mitford waiting for them in his little
  run-about.
  "The consensus of opinion is that they might have been looking for you,'
  Mitford told Zainal.  'Get in, the pair of you.  Let the others unpack
  the Tub." 'We just made it into the channel when the ship passed
  overhead,' Kris said, taking a seat.  'We were well started when we
  heard the reports about the landing in the Drop Field, and Zainal here,'
  she gave him a little grin, 'put the pedal to the metal and headed
  towards the channel as fast as the Tub would go.  It wouldn't have done
  for them to spot it when it's supposed to be shards in space with the
  rest of the KDL." She glanced at Zainal.
  She'd said nothing to him about her other suspicion, which Mitford had
  
  amused by
  the incident and shrugged off Mitford's report.
  "Worry saw three Eosi?" Zainal asked, his yellow eyes sparkling with an
  almost demonic glitter.
  "Yeah, and they scared the shit out of him and Leon Dane."
  Zainal's smile widened with irony.  'They are frightful.  It was only
  with great effort that I did not embarrass my father and all my line by
  losing water." Then he gave his big shoulders one of his characteristic
  shrugs.  'But only the first time." 'Is that what you would have become
  if you'd gone back?" Mitford asked, not quite meeting Zainal's eyes.
  The Catteni nodded once, slowly.  'So they came back?  And looked at
  the
  machinery in Narrow, and at the field and at Camp Rock, and didn't find
  Catteni life-signs.  But they have gone.  There was nothing on the
  screen when we got out at the Bay.
  - Vt
  
  "Good news, serge?" Kris asked, remembering those last few klicks
  before
  the Tub immersed itself.  Zainal's expression had been so grim, so .  .
  .  frightened .  .  .  she didn't like to think of anything frightening
  Zainal, even if she knew very well that the Eosi did.  Did he suspect
  the ship might be searching for him .  .  .  still?
  Especially if the others did.
  Could his brother, Lenvec, be still conscious enough to make an Eosi
  search him out and take revenge?
  "Well, sort of good news,' Mitford said with an odd twist to his smile.
  "Tell me, Zainal, could that warship scan underwater?" 'I hope not,'
  Zainal replied and Kris, watching him closely, saw his jaw muscles
  tighten.
  "If it's any consolation, I don't think they can because otherwise they
  would have found you - if you're what they were looking for,' Mitford
  
  "Glad you made it here safely, after all,' Scott said in welcome, but he
  gestured for Zainal and Kris to join him at the big screen.
  "Gino, replay the Catteni ship's departure, will you?" Marrucci,
  grinning from ear to ear, tapped in the necessary keys as if he'd
  handled Catteni equipment all his professional life.
  Zainal echoed the gasp Kris gave when she saw the blip of the Catteni
  vessel stop, short.
  "How could it hit a wall in space?" she asked.  Only then did she notice
  the barely visible skin of the bubble.  'That's what stopped it?" She
  turned first to Beverly, then Scott and Mitford, and finally to Zainal.
  He was shaking his head, but his eyes were gleaming with intense
  satisfaction.  'It circles the planet?" he asked.
  "We have reason to believe so.  But watch,' said Scott, holding up one
  hand, fingers wide to give his eyes some protection from the flash.
  
  "That is very interesting indeed,' he said, turning to Scott.
  "Yes, we think so,' and Scott settled himself on the edge of the screen
  control panel.  'We think they were looking for you .  .  ." "I told
  them,' Mitford said, seating himself at the next work station.
  Scott shot him a glance.  'Could they have been?"
  "For what purpose?" Zainal lifted one shoulder negligently. 'I speeded
  the Tub so they would not see it out in the open.  They might have seen
  it submerging, if they had the scanners in the right direction.  If they
  came, it was to see what their orbital saw.
  It was in place when the whizz-ball came over, and it was also there
  when the big one sent down all the new machines.  The Eosi looked at
  those, did they not?" Mitford's expression was one of relief and Scott
  regarded Zainal with a look close to embarrassment.
  "They come to see what's new on Botany,' Zainal repeated, showing his
  teeth in a full grin.  'Not for me." Kris allowed herself to relax a
  
  "Who else?  Since the warship had to blast its way out, Zainal said.
  'The watch did not report anything happening in space?" 'Just that the
  Catteni orbital seemed to have developed a shadow,' Marrucci said.  'I
  was watch officer when the Catteni arrived.  There was nothing, nothing
  there then."
  "Is the shadow still with the orbital?"
  Marrucci grinned.  'Can't see that far any more." But he did call up the
  log for that period and showed them the tiny shadow behind the orbital.
  "If that's the gadget that did the trick, why didn't it move fast
  enough,' Mitford said in a low grumble, 'to keep the Eosi from getting
  in at all?" 'Maybe it just took time to spread out,' Beverly suggested.
  Then he turned to Marrucci and added, 'Even that Tholian Web took
  time,
  didn't it, to enclose the Enterprise?" 'The Enterprise?" Kris exclaimed
  in surprise.  'The Tholian Web?  Oh, I remember that episode." 'D'you
  remember how the Enterprise got free?" Marrucci asked hopefully.
  
  machinery stays intact.  If they can't differentiate between us and
  loo-cows, they surely will look at a warship that big with some
  uneasiness." 'But the Catteni ships were coming in and out of here like
  yoyos,' Mitford said.
  "But the Farmers weren't alerted to the change in .  .  . tenants, shall
  I say?" and Scott gave a mirthless smile, 'until that homing device was
  sent off." 'By the way, whose bright idea was that?" Beverly asked,
  frowning.
  "It got a reaction, which is what we wanted,' Mitford said, declining to
  name a name.  Which, Kris felt, was more forbearance than Dick Aarens
  deserved.
  "Not for - how many months was it .  .  ." Beverly asked, 'before the
  whizz-ball arrived?" 'Seven,' Zainal said, 'and then only three weeks
  until the big ship arrives to replace the machines." "What I can't
  understand,' said Kris, 'is why that scan of theirs hasn't apparently
  taken any notice of the existence of a new type of life-form on their
  planet?  Loo-cows have six legs, noticeably, and we have only two.
  Surely that was noted somewhere?" She raised her hands in a puzzled
  
  "Indeed,' Scott said, clearing his throat nervously.
  "Very grateful,' Zainal added in a low, fervent tone, leaning back in
  his chair, stretching out his long legs and giving a sigh of relief.
  "But why did it?" Scott asked, pursuing the puzzle.
  "Because the ship used weapons against it?" Zainal asked.
  "That is a possibility, of course, if the Farmers are pacific by
  nature,' Scott went on.  'But we don't know that, do we?" 'We know by
  the valleys,' Zainal said, 'which were to keep something in or something
  out.  But not to kill it.  Only now we are kept in and danger is kept
  out." He pointed to the screen where the Catteni ship's departure was
  on
  replay.  'I think the Eosi have been given much to think about." 'But
  where does that leave us,' and Scott glanced around those on the KDL's
  bridge, 'in relation to the Farmers?" 'Remember that we all felt that
  we'd been scanned?" Mitford began, making sure he had everyone's
  attention.  'Okay, so the whizz-ball orbital did an inventory and the
  
  everything you originally aimed to do.  Attract their attention and
  their help." When Mitford nodded, he went on, 'Only your plan's gone
  agley, as the Scotsman said."
  "Not much agley, sir.  Not yet, at any rate."
  "It would if the Farmers decide that we're some sort ofnalignant
  life-form which has contaminated their planet." Kris glared up at Scott,
  appalled that he'd say such a thing.
  Then she paused and amended her thinking: that he'd say what possi-
  bly
  everyone else feared - but his expression gave no apology for his blunt
  speech.
  "No,' Zainal said into the dismayed silence his observation caused.
  'No,' he added in a stronger tone and sat forward, clapping his big
  hands to his knees to emphasize that denial.  'The Farmers are
  cultivators, a race that protects; the valleys prove that to me.  The
  scan could have killed a malignant life-form but did not.  The barrier
  could have destroyed the warship.  It did not.  But it let it out.  We
  
  "I think I agree with you on that, Zainal,' Beverly said.
  The, too,' echoed Marrucci.
  "I may have reservations, Zainal,' Scott said, 'but worry is futile,
  especially,' and now he flung out both arms in a gesture
  of resignation, When faced with a far, far superior force."
  "This planet has a great potential,' Beverly said in a quiet,
  affirmative voice.  'Let us make as much of it as we can, and hope that
  the Farmers see us as cultivators and, perhaps, useful tenants." 'Amen
  to that,' Marrucci added and made the sign of the cross.
  Kris ducked her head respectfully even as she reached for Zainal's
  hand.
  He did not mention Phase Three but, by the way he returned the pres-
  sure
  of her fingers, she knew that he had not forgotten it.
  
  purposes.
  And one of the first things to be explored was the bubble: 'As close as
  one could get to it." 'Or in it,' Kris had added, staying in the
  background but determined to go along for the ride for a variety of
  reasons.
  She'd learned all she could about the new equipment, and had driven
  the
  Tub often enough to have got the hang of the Cattenisize finger pads on
  the control boards.  She might never learn to pilot, but there were
  always other duties during a flight for which she felt herself well
  able.
  She also had a feeling that Zainal had no intention of giving up his
  plan to 'hitch a ride' on the next Farmers' vehicle that darkened
  Botany's skies.  How he could achieve that goal, she hadn't a clue and
  he was giving her none, though there were times when he stared blindly
  out at nothing, with unfocused eyes, and she knew him well enough to
  be
  aware that he was turning over ways and means of achieving a hitch.
  
  distances they were now convinced it traversed?
  She kept hoping that when his plans were completed, she'd be part of
  them.  For all the good friends she now had on Botany, she did not wish
  to be left here by herself.  Especially since Zainal's presence
  protected her from importunities.  Already she'd had several distressing
  interviews with men who wanted to be on her 'paternity' list.  They
  professed themselves willing to forgo a natural conception but they
  would like to have her bear their child.
  She had managed to thank them for their interest - when she really
  wanted to clout them as hard as she could - and told them she would
  consider their offer.  And made sure to stick closer to Zainal's side
  than ever, even though it meant stopping work on the quarters they
  were
  building.  She did what she could without his help - until guys started
  showing up with offers of assistance .  .  .  and the 'paternity'
  requests.
  Then Raisha discovered she was pregnant, and deferred to whoever
  wished
  
  Kris kept as close to Zainal as she possibly could, even sitting through
  repeated instructions at the scout's control board to avoid the
  'infection'.  No wonder so many individual quarters were being built in
  the Bay area.
  There was no problem filling in Raisha's place, and Bert magnanimously
  offered to step down too.  Beverly and Marrucci went over the
  credentials of all those who volunteered for the flight and selected
  Antonio Gedes for Raisha's spot, but Zainal insisted that Bert remain -
  having had some experience with the craft and in space - while two
  other
  pilots, Alejandro Balenquah and Sidi Ahmed, were added to the flight
  list.
  "Not that we're ever likely to go far,' Balenquah said gloomily.
  He was swarthy, with deep-set black eyes that surveyed his surround-
  ings
  with reserve.  Kris wasn't sure she liked his noncommittal posture, when
  here he was being offered what half-a-dozen less qualified men and
  women
  
  The flight had been planned in spite of severe reservations from
  Reidenbacker and Ainger.  They were ground personnel, Marrucci had
  remarked privately to Kris, and suspicious of air and space manoeuvres.
  If the satellites were no longer visible on the screens of the KDL and
  the scout, then it was two to one that the SATs couldn't see inside
  within the bubble.  It was therefore not only safe, but a wise
  precaution to see what the barrier was like up close.
  "Not to mention the fact that you're dying to go up again,' Kris said
  and he grinned, more boyish than ever despite having reached the rank
  of
  colonel in the Air Force.
  "You got it, Bjornsen,' and he cocked a doublejointed thumb at her,
  making the rest of his hand into a mock pistol before dropping the
  thumb.  He also had a habit of cracking his knuckles when he was
  nervous, a routine which fascinated Zainal who could not, to Kris's
  relief, duplicate the action.
  
  "That's your interpretation,' Kris said.
  He regarded her with his yellow eyes and a slight smile on his lips.
  'And what is yours?" She thought for a moment and then laughed.
  "Yeah, we could very well be a mouse run." 'A what?" Zainal asked,
  puzzled, so she suggested they take a break from house-building while
  she explained about laboratory mice and labyrinths to test intelligence
  and learning ability.
  "To add to whatever that scan of theirs discovered about us."
  "But we do what we want,' Zainal said, still puzzled.
  "Maybe we just think we do,' she replied, just now identifying that
  possibility.
  "Scott would not like to think someone else commands him,' and he
  chuckled as he got back to his feet and reached for another brick.
  
  "That's the fourth one tonight,' she said irritably.  'Maybe they need
  to bake them longer or something." Sandy was in fact in charge of the
  brick-firing, so Kris knew it was no fault of the manufacture.
  Brick-making was another chore shared throughout the community.  But
  there was something soothing about shovelling the wet muck into the
  moulds and knowing you were building your own place from scratch
  including the ones on your arms, hands and legs, collected from the
  process of building.
  Still, it would be a nice place when it was finished.  She and Zainal
  had picked the spot together, on that first trip.  They had a splendid
  view of the Bay, with enough clear ground around to plant vegetables
  and
  berry shrubs, and a stand of 'young' lodgepole trees behind them.  After
  months of barracks living, nearly everyone on Botany wanted privacy
  and
  the Bay area certainly afforded that.
  The Narrow Valley mess hall had been disassembled, loaded aboard
  the KDL
  
  Private accommodations spread out around the Bay in all directions, at
  first built from the lodge-pole tree timber before the brick manufactory
  got production up to a useful level.  Those involved in cutting timber
  made the interesting discovery that even the smallest of the lodge-pole
  trees which had grown down into the plateau were at least a thousand
  years old.
  "They have rings, just like trees on Earth,' said Vigdin Elsasdochter,
  the environmental specialist in charge of responsible logging, ready to
  show the section she carried around with her.  'And tight rings to
  indicate the climate has not changed much throughout the millenium: no
  drought, no bad winters, no hot summers.  Some of the larger trees may
  be ten thousand years old." Once again the question of how long the
  Farmers had been in possession of the planet was brought up.  Espe-
  cially
  since the 'new forest' of 'young trees' had been seeded by the much
  older ones.  Even Worrell refused to worry about it.
  "I got other more important things to worry about,' he'd said
  
  different building materials.
  After assigned chores were done and the evenings gradually length-
  ened,
  everyone worked on their homes, and lent a hand to neighbours for jobs
  that required a gang.
  While some of the brass-heads were living in the cliff hangar, and
  bunking down on pallets in their offices, all of them had picked out
  sites, but keeping track of work assignments for nearly ten thousand
  people and aliens took most of their time.
  "Someone has to do it,' Mitford remarked when Kris complained that the
  admiral seemed to be the unelected head of everything.  'And, hell,
  Kris, I might have run the battalion to all intents and purposes, and
  managed to whip us into some sort of order there at the first, but he
  had an aircraft carrier and they carry ten thousand; he's used to
  dealing with those kind of numbers, I'm not.  I was only too glad to
  hand him the can, you know." Mitford remained in charge of exploration
  and mapping, attempting to fill in the spatial map with the details
  necessary for further expansion of the farming and ranching.  'If you
  
  between extreme cordiality when deferring to Zainal's knowledge of
  some
  matters and total dismissal of Zainal's opinions.  He didn't have
  command all his own way, which somewhat mollified Kris; and she sup-
  posed
  that, having run an aircraft carrier, he had the requisite experience.
  She had occasion to be grateful it was Scott who issued most of the
  orders rather than Geoffrey Ainger, whom she didn't like at all.  He was
  so Brit that he was almost as much a caricature of the serving officer
  as Colonel Blimp had been, and she knew he considered Zainal a dan-
  gerous
  commodity.
  She got along well with Rastancil, Fetterman and Reidenbacker; John
  Beverly was the nicest of the lot, because he always looked straight at
  her when he asked or answered questions.
  And Easley, but then he was as his name - easily to get along with.  In
  fact, when he was involved, meetings seemed less tense and often
  more
  productive.  He had such a knack for gently redirecting tensions and
  
  and back down, to five days of circumnavigating the planet.
  "See if there are any blind valleys here on our continent, or deposits
  of minerals.  We could use more lead, copper, zinc and tin, if this
  continent has them." 'I believe it does,' Zainal said.  'The miner,
  Walter Duxie, has copies of the original spatial survey maps." "Duxie?
  Do I know him?" Scott asked over his shoulder at his ever-present aide.
  "Yes, he agreed to leave the other place and supervise mining here,'
  Beggs murmured.  'Stocky man, balding, forties, English." 'Ah, yes, get
  them for me to see,' and Scott turned back to Zainal and Kris.
  She wondered what Beggs's description of Zainal was - and
  idea, especially with those families which were increasing.  'I think it
  looks well." 'Does at that.  I can help hand out nails, too.
  Brought you my handy-dandy nail apron, as well." She handed over the
  object and, laughing, Kris tied it about her waist while Sandy started
  herself.  He never seemed to meet anyone's eye, but then he was so
  
  take-off and dismissed them, suggesting that they all relax for the rest
  of the evening.  Not that he intended to follow his own advice, because
  they were ready to put the shakes on the roof of their two-roomed cabin.
  Kris decided she needed to be so thoroughly tired she couldn't stay
  awake, because she was far more excited about the trip than she let on.
  Zainal had just finished setting the piles of shakes in order and was
  steadying the ladder against the gable end when Mitford, Worry, Tesco,
  Sandy Areson, Sally Stoffers and the two Doyles arrived, hammers in
  hand
  and with a second ladder.
  "Can't have you breaking something the day before the Bubble,' Mitford
  had said gruffly.
  Kris grinned gratefully, because Zainal might have patiently learned the
  rudiments of construction but she was terrified that he'd fall through
  the rafters, or break them, and he wouldn't let her go up on the roof by
  herself to nail the shakes.
  "You can't help,' Kris said flatly to the two women.
  
  batches."
  "I liked the buff so that's what I made, and then added more buff to the
  red ones,' Kris said, observing the effect objectively.
  They'd put the darker bricks around the door, window-ledges, corners,
  the chimney and the hearth surround.  They had a back door, too, out of
  the smaller room, so they had easier access to the latrine.
  And a sleeping loft which had become a popular
  .  Maybe it's all you novices mixing your own
  ."
  idea, especially with those families which were increasing.  'I think it
  looks well." 'Does at that.  I can help hand out nails, too.
  Brought you my handy-dandy nail apron, as well." She handed over the
  object and, laughing, Kris tied it about her waist while Sandy started
  
  rungs.
  "Hey?" Zainal protested.
  "You'd never know he was Catteni,' Sandy said conversationally to
  Sally,
  'unless you had to look at him." Sally smothered a giggle as Zainal
  made
  as graceful a climb up the ladder as Kris had. Mitford and Lenny Doyle
  appeared on the roof from the other side and then the hammering be-
  gan,
  echoing in the little dell, and picked up by the rat-tat-tat of other
  hammers on other roofs.
  With so many to help, passing shakes and replenishing the supply of
  nails, the cabin was roofed by the time the sun went down. Then Zainal
  passed around 'beer' while Kris served up tea from the kettle in the
  fireplace.
  "Looks bigger somehow, with the roof on,' Kris remarked, glancing up at
  the rafters and taking a deep breath of the fragrance of the new wood of
  
  "We'd better hike to the hangar and get to bed in the scout,' Kris said,
  moving towards the doorway.  They had no door yet.
  Zainal stopped her.  'I want to stay under my own roof, which I have
  built .  .  ."
  "Helped build,' she said, teasingly.
  "Tonight,' he finished, and gestured towards the pile of blankets which
  she hadn't noticed in the rush to get the roof done.
  "That would make the evening complete."
  "Not quite,' Zainal said in a low voice, drawing her into his arms.  'It
  is Rood to have our own place.  Very good, indeed." And that should
  have
  been an idyllic time for them.  Except that when she got up in the
  night, between moons, she didn't want to disturb the soundly sleeping
  Zainal and, on her way back from the latrine, tripped over the left-over
  bundle of shakes and broke her right arm.
  
  rest of the way to the hospital.  Both bones had been broken, although
  Leon Dane comforted her with the thought that it hadn't been a com-
  pound
  fracture which would have been nasty with their limited facilities.
  Then he poured her a tot of the grain alcohol that was currently in use
  as a pain-killer.  They hadn't quite got a decent smoky taste to it, but
  she wouldn't complain.
  "This is quite nasty enough,' she said as Zainal held her against him
  while I eon manoeuvred the bones back into place.  She fainted after'
  not during, and regained consciousness while he was fixing the last of
  the bandages into place around the splints.
  "I would lake to have immobilized it in plaster, only we haven't got
  that kind yet,' Leon told her.  He poured her a smaller tot, 'to help
  your sleep,' he said.
  Then he led Zainal, who carried her, to an otherwise empty ward.
  Final set her gently down next to the window and then moved the retest
  
  Kris could almost have wished that Zainal had let her suffer on her own,
  but the whisky had dulled the ache in her arm and the warmth of his
  body, and his concern, comforted her so that soon enough she was
  asleep.
  He was gone in the morning when the noise of the scout's takeoff woke
  her, and the bed had been put back in its proper position.  It was dawn
  and he had blasted off on time.  She wondered who had taken her
  place,
  and then didn't want to know.  She tried to go back to sleep but
  couldn't with the ache, so she got out of bed and, with a blanket
  wrapped around her, went in search of someone and preferably a hot
  cup
  of herbal tea.  Maybe that would help the ache in her arm. What actually
  helped her arm was a more judicious shot of the grain whisky in the tea.
  "I can't spend the next few weeks drunk as a lord,' she said to the
  attendant in the hospital's kitchen.
  "Ah, the ache'll ease off,' Mavis, the duty nurse, told her, grinning.
  'At least we've got a decent tipple to help.  Now, let's get back to
  
  purposes,' Mavis said with a grin, pointing towards the right door.
  'I'll call for a ride, but you may have to wait .  .  ."
  "I can perfectly well walk .  .  ."
  "You can perfectly well not,' said Pete Easley, coming in the hospital
  at that moment.  'I promised Leon I'd collect you.  Got your bottle of
  medicinal?  Sit there while I grab one.  I know where they stash it,'
  and he went into the pharmacy and was out again before Kris could take
  a
  seat.  Then, with his hand under her left elbow, he escorted her out to
  the runabout.
  "Mitford lent it to you?"
  "For you, crippled as you are, Mitford is ready to do a great many
  things.  Besides,' and Easley looked down at her with a devilish grin,
  'he promised Zainal he'd look out for you." 'Hmmm, how kind,' she said
  in an acid tone, knowing just what might be going through Zainal's mind
  in asking Mitford to be on hand.
  
  and a
  brown bottle of hooch.  Easley ended up sitting slightly canted so he
  wouldn't inadvertently bump her.
  She felt clumsier than ever and definitely out of sorts.  She couldn't
  be hung over from what she'd had last night, but she'd have given her
  eye-teeth for an aspirin.  Then she remembered how Zainal laughed at
  all
  the eye-teeth she'd given away, and somehow her mood improved.
  "He got off all right?" she asked.
  "Right on time.  Laughrey took your place." 'Laughrey, the former
  Concorde pilot?" Her good humour increased.  She liked Laughrey and
  he'd
  be in heaven, literally as well as figuratively.  'At least it wasn't
  Scott's little pipsqueak .  .  ." She would have hated it if Beggs had
  gotten the empty chair.
  Pete Easley laughed.  'The guy's good at what he does, but Scott only
  tolerates him because it keeps him out of other people's hair.
  
  over the other hemisphere about now.
  "Could I sneak onto one of the bridges, d'you think?" 'Only when you've
  had some breakfast.  You're white as a sheet,' he said, pulling in to
  park at the mess hall.
  So she had breakfast, which Pete Easley brought over to the table at
  which he had seated her, one not visible from the door.
  "Don't think you need condolences right now,' he said, sitting so that
  he blocked her from casual glances.
  "Is news of my accident all over the Bay?" she demanded, swinging
  back
  to annoyance again.
  "Well, there had to be an explanation when Zainal showed up with
  Laughrey, and we all know how keen you were to go on the mission,' he
  said, adding, 'and you know how news goes through Retreat." 'Hmmm,
  yes,
  
  cabin where he should have turned towards the hangar.  'You still don't
  look like yourself."
  "I'm not,' she agreed.  'I am definitely not myself."
  But also she didn't want to go to a cabin that was empty of Zainal.  She
  tried to think of the things she could do one-handed and came up with
  very few.  Even dish-washing required two.
  "Look, Kris, they won't reach the Bubble for a couple more hours.
  How about I drop you off at your cabin and come get you in time for
  that?  Okay?" 'Yeah, that sounds pretty good,' she said as he slowed
  the
  runabout right at her front door.  She was getting out when she realized
  the doorway was no longer open.  'Hey, how did that get there?" and
  she
  pointed to the brand-new addition.
  Pete grinned.  'Lenny Doyle brought it down at first light. He thought
  you might prefer to be miserable in privacy." Delighted with the
  
  Pete gave her a gentle push inward.  'Get some rest now.  And I'll be
  back for you." He shut the door and she pulled the string in again.
  "Thanks, Pete,' she called and heard his cheerful 'No problemo' and
  then
  the whispering sound of the air cushion driving off.
  Someone had also tidied up the bedding and increased the fluff content
  of the mattress.  Kris blessed whoever had done her that service.  She
  nudged one of the stools across the flagstone floor with her feet,
  knocked it over and kicked it into place by the bed, uprighted it,
  placed the bottle on it within handy reach, and sat down on the bed to
  take off her boots.  She wouldn't sleep, she knew that, but she took a
  pull on the bottle before she lay down.
  A determined knocking and someone calling her name roused her and
  she
  sat up, knocking her arm painfully.
  "I'm coming, I'm coming,' she called, discovering it's not as easy to
  get to one's feet with an arm in a sling.  When she opened the door,
  
  Bubble." When they entered the KDL's bridge, it was crowded with an
  avid
  audience, but Scott made peremptory gestures for her to be let through
  and then installed her in one of the seats.
  "You'll be interested to know,' Beverly was saying from Baby's piloting
  compartment, 'that the Bubble does not register on any detection
  equipment.  But it's visible .  .  .  as you can see."
  Which they did, as from Baby's perspective.  They could also
  see the scout-ship on the KDL's screen, with its nose a scant ten metres
  from the barrier.
  "We will poke it,' Zainal's voice said, and Baby drifted into the
  opacity of the Bubble and bounced slowly backwards.
  "Here, let me adjust the screen a bit so they can see what the warship
  left behind,' said Marrucci, laughter rippling through his voice.
  "We'll need a touch of reverse for a proper view,' and that was in
  
  '(ban you make any analysis of it?" Scott asked.
  m: At.
  I:
  - 1:
  "Can't if sensors can't pick up anything,' Bert Put said. 'Not unless we
  go out and see if we can cut a patch of it." 'No,' said Zainal.  'If you
  wish, someone will go outside, but we will not take sample."
  'Affirmative to defacing it, Zainal,' Scott said. 'But I'd like an EVA
  inspection of it." 'I go,' Zainal said, and immediately there was
  protest from both Baby and the KDL observers.
  Kris discovered her left hand on her lips, to keep from adding her
  protest.  Then she conquered her fear.
  "He's the one to go, Ray,' she said firmly.  'He knows the gear and the
  ship.  No-one else has checked out for a space-walk, have they?" 'I
  
  "Can you put your helmet on it, Zainal?" Scott asked, receiving a note
  from the engineers watching the space-walk.
  Slowly the Bubble filled the camera screen and was placed right up
  against the material.  Nothing of the black space beyond could be seen
  through the fabric, and it was smooth.
  "Like a balloon's skin,' Kris murmured under her breath.
  "That's how I'd describe it,' Scott agreed.
  Then Zainal pulled back.  'There are no flaws, even around the debris
  from the warship."
  "Could you make it to that spot?" Scott asked.
  "He's at the end of the tether right now, Ray,' Beverly said.
  "We've got all the photographic material you need for examination of
  that flotsam.  No need to risk Zainal for it." 'Agreed,' Scott said
  
  but she decided to ignore it: the pain wasn't there, she had no time for
  it.
  Then Zainal was back inside the scout and his camera turned off.
  She breathed a sigh of relief, oddly echoed around the crowded bridge.
  Which, she realized, was just a bit too crowded for her and she rose
  from her seat, glancing appealingly at Pete.
  "Thanks, Admiral,' she said, nodding to the others she knew out of those
  on the bridge.
  A way parted for her as Easley conducted her off the bridge and then off
  the KDL.  Her knees were near to buckling as she stepped down the
  ladder, hanging on with her left hand.  And her arm ached despite her
  efforts to make it stop.
  "There're sandwiches and tea,' Pete said, showing where a trestle table
  was burdened with lunch items.  'And I know where they keep the han-
  gar's
  
  two cups of hooched-up tea.  The ache in her bones subsided.
  "D'you want to go back in and see the next show?" Easley asked.
  He was really being very nice, Kris thought, but she shook her head.
  "Then I'll take you back to the cabin,' and he cupped her left elbow,
  though he parked the runabout very close to where they'd been sitting.
  He was really quite a nice guy, she thought, wondering who'd snap him
  up
  as the father of a child, or children.  He wan a good head taller than
  she was, and rather more athletic than you'd think with that pose of
  indolence he usually affected.  Not badlooking, either, though nothing
  as toy-boy handsome as Dick Aarens was.
  Or Yuri, with his Slavic cheekbones and snapping black eyes.
  Neither of them was a patch on Zainal though.
  The comunit buzzed and Pete answered it.  'Oh, you have?
  
  she giggled, 'it is the biggest damned balloon ever made, and we don't
  know who blew it up." Pete grinned at her and she knew she was acting
  silly, but it was better than being peevish.
  "I love that door,' she said as the runabout stopped in front of it.
  "It's the best front door I've ever seen.  Zainal will be so pleased.
  Say, how much hooch did you pour in my tea?" 'Only enough to stop the
  ache in your arm.  It has stopped, hasn't it?" She looked down at the
  clumsy white extrusion.  'You know, it has." Pete swung the door inward
  and she had taken the first step before she realized that the inside was
  different.
  T
  "My God, what's been happening with my back turned?" she demanded,
  swaying a bit as she turned towards Pete.
  He took her good arm and led her inside.  'Well, we were going to wait
  with the shivaree until Zainal could be here, too, but with you hors de
  
  surprise.  But when her startled gaze flicked past the opening to the
  smaller room and saw the wooden bedstead with carved posts and the
  huge
  puffy fluff mattress that covered it, she burst into tears.
  "Now, now, Kris,' Pete said in consternation and, pulling her against
  him, began to stroke her soothingly, saying a lot of things that she
  didn't really hear because the generosity of her friends and the team
  was so overwhelming.
  Then he was holding one of the glasses to her lips and urging her to
  drink.  She did, because she hated to be such a baby when everyone
  was
  nemg so nice to her.  And then her knees seemed to give way and Pete
  picked her up - as easily as Zainal could and deposited her on the bed,
  arranging the pillows behind her and urging her to finish the drink.
  "The bed - it's so marvelous.  .  .and they all know I've wanted a
  really, really, truly thick mattress .  .  ." and she clung more firmly
  to Pete, as the only steady thing in a rapidly whirling world.
  
  .  .  .  nor protest, even with her right arm feeling so heavy and not
  quite hers, when the coverall was slipped off and she felt the warm skin
  next to hers.  This was all somehow inevitable and, in the end, quite
  enjoyable.
  Kris woke up with a terrible hangover and discovered - the hard way, by
  accidentally banging her right arm as she tried to sit up that it was
  still in a splint, though the throbbing was muted.  The struggle just to
  sit only made her head worse.
  She remembered being in the KDL's bridge, and coming back and see-
  ing all
  the lovely gifts and crying, and sitting down on the bed and Pete Easley
  .  .  .  She sat bolt upright, collapsing almost immediately with the
  headache and trying to remember
  more.
  And she'd enjoyed it far more than she should have.  In fact, she could
  almost - not quite but almost - regret that her scruples required her to
  honour the bond that had grown between herself and Zainal as if it were
  
  Well, she thought philosophically and chuckled.  At least I remember
  enjoying it.  Then she sighed.  She hoped their next meeting wouldn't be
  awkward.  Or that she'd have to explain to Pete that last night was it!
  She wasn't about to two-time Zainal.
  Even with someone as good in bed as Pete Easley.  Some girl was go-
  ing to
  be very lucky!  She made another injudicious movement and thought
  longingly of a cool compress on her forehead and maybe the back of
  her
  neck.
  Maybe a hair of the dog?  She pushed back the blankets, and noticed
  that
  Pete had neatly laid her coverall on the stool in easy reach, her boots
  beside it.
  Yes, the bottle of medicinal spirits was on the table, and the glass he
  poured for her, with a good inch in it.  Had he had some before he left?
  Whenever he had left, and she did briefly worry that his departure might
  
  Another considerate touch by Mr Easley.  And the kettle was full
  of water.I
  One of these days, they'd have water piped in to houses, but that was in
  the future .  .  .
  She went back to the table to inspect the gifts she remembered vaguely
  having seen earlier, now sunlight came from the small side window
  above
  the bed.  Its slightly wavy glass sent a prism of rainbow light onto the
  table.  Then she realized how the sun was shining in, from the east. For
  they had faced the cabin south!  Good Lord!  She'd slept the rest of
  yesterday and an entire Botany night?  No wonder her arm didn't ache
  as
  much.
  The headache had begun to ease off by the time the kettle had boiled.
  She took herbs from the little pot on the mantel and made a cup which
  she took to Zainal's chair to drink.  It was a comfortable chair, and
  her butt eased into the contours.  It'd need a cushion or two .  . . no,
  
  at the corners, keeping the top firmly m place.
  There was a tentative knock on the door.
  "Coming,' she called and saw that the latch-string was inside.
  So she must have come to long enough to do that when Pete left.
  She opened the door to Mavis Belton from the hospital, a clean coverall
  in her hand.
  "Oh, do come in,' said Kris.  'Kettle's just boiled.  I was having a cup
  to get over my hangover."
  "How's the arm?" asked Mavis, with a grin.
  "Not as bad as yesterday, that's for sure.  Come in, come in."
  l
  Mavis did, but only after a careful look into the main room of the
  
  Here's your tea, and I'll just steal Zainal's chair.  I can rest the
  splint on the arm." 'I just ended my shift, but I thought you'd like to
  hear that Baby's doing fine in her orbitals." 'I saw them reach the
  Bubble, and Zainal's space-walk,' Kris said.  'That was before Pete
  Easley plied me with so much liquor I must have passed out." 'I think
  we're going to have to alter the recipe.  That particular distillation
  is double potency.  I told Leon and Mayock they'd better cut it more."
  'They should,' Kris agreed, rubbing the back of her neck.  'My
  hangover's hung-over for fair." 'Sit out in the sun; it's a lovely day."
  Mavis rose.  'May I look around?  Inside and out?" 'Sure, but watch that
  pile of shakes on the way to the latrine, will you?" By dinnertime, when
  Mitford came by in the runabout to take her down to the mess hall, Kris
  had completely recovered.  But she took him to task and demanded to
  know
  who had done the furniture she'd found in the cabin on her return from
  the hangar.
  "Whose idea was that table?  Not even Zainal could tip it over and how'd
  you get it down here?" she asked.
  
  Mitford's odd expression.  'Oh yes, Pete Easley got me high as a kite
  just in case you hear rumours that I was drunk.  I was.  I slept through
  an entire Botany night without so much as moving.  Mavis came by this
  morning and said they were going to cut the last batch.  I said they'd
  better .  .  .
  bed?"
  "Oh, the Doyles and me.  I cut the timber, and Lenny did the posts and
  showed me how to make the joints and stuff.  He and Ninety did the ta-
  ble
  and the chair.  Said it was the least they could do for the guy who kept
  them from becoming frozen steaks in a Farmerst freezer. Joe and Sarah
  did the mattress and pillows; Sandy Areson the pottery and glassware,
  of
  course; Whitby the benches.  Coo traded for the pots and the skillet. No
  big deal." 'No big deal?" she exclaimed, and a faint reminder of her
  hangover made her head ring with the loudness of her voice.  'You
  furnish our cabin and it's no big deal.
  It's a real big deal to me,' and she leaned over and kissed the sergeant
  
  furnish theirs when they've built,' he said in a gruff voice.
  "By the way, stood a tour on the KDL, and the mission's going a-okay.
  Not a wrinkle on the balloon as far as they've gone.
  Seamless.  All the tech heads are scratching their arses over what was
  used." 'What's the general feeling?  Or is it too far away to bother the
  claustrophobics?" she asked, trying not to resent her absence .  . .
  and Zainal's.
  "I think people are glad.  The Deskis evidently had a wild night
  it was damned near lethal.  Who made the of dancing, singing .  .
  .  if you can call that warble singing .  .  .  and Coo says there are
  giants protecting us."
  "Did he see the Eosi?"
  "No,' and Mitford shook his head.  'And frankly, I'm just as glad I
  
  The makers and donors of the furniture were saving spaces for them at
  a
  table in the mess hall.  Kris lavished praise and gratitude on all for
  making a cabin into a real home, promising to do as well by them, when
  their cabins were up.  Then the conversation devolved to Baby's mission
  and Mitford, sipping what he assured Kris was a well-watered jolt of
  hooch, brought them up to speed.
  The monitor also tracked the small vessel in its exploration, especially
  the examination at the barrier, and followed its progress until it
  landed safely again on the western continent.
  Baby returned safely and with sufficient masses of information to keep
  all the brass-heads, engineers, miners and Aggies busy.
  The mission crew took a longer time to get themselves back down to the
  surface, they were so high on the experience.
  Carnal s course had used a minimum of fuel and won the plaudits of the
  
  flew that series.  That whole caper of capturing the KDL was a waste of
  time." 'No,' said Bert Put, evidently rather fed up with Balenquah's
  opinions, 'it got us extra fuel, a new bridge console and a lot of tools
  we'd have a hard time duplicating." 'Oh, yeah, forgot about them,'
  Balenquah replied.  'Well, if we have to shift population, it'll be
  handy enough."
  - .
  .
  .
  .
  .,
  "There'll be flying in the KDL,' Marrucci said, 'maybe only mine and
  grain runs, but we're not totally grounded, you know." 'We are for any
  real space work,' the man went on, talking himself into a morose state.
  
  kept quiet about the surprise until he got into their cabin saw the
  gifts.  The door - which he admired even before he opened it, with Kris
  barely able to contain her excitement at what lay beyond it had required
  his attention, admiring the detail, the latch-string, which gave him
  great amusement pulling it in and out.
  Then he entered the room and saw the table and the chair, the pottery
  and glasses which Kris had put on the mantel, having no other place to
  store things - yet.  Lenny had promised to teach her how to do
  mortise-and-tenon joints in wood and make herself proper chests and
  drawers.  But the table and the chair shocked him, with one knee raised
  for the next step, and he stared and stared and then inarticulately
  tried to ask her who, how, where these things had come from.
  As she replied, interspersing the explanation with giggles for the
  surprise yet in store for him, he examined everything, even to trying to
  lift the slate-topped table.  He sat in the chair, got up, turned it
  upside down to see how the legs had been fitted in, and the stringers,
  and then righted it to sit in it again, stroking the arm-rests with his
  big hands.
  
  He had an immediate response to that: the very devil of a look
  in his full eyes as he swooped her up into his arms and carried her, for
  all the world the way John Wayne had treated Maureen O'Hara in The
  Quiet
  Man, and demonstrated how much better he could perform on a resilient
  surface.
  Mitford took her off the sick-list when he wanted their team to find a
  pass through the western hills to the far shore; he let her go along. He
  knew very well that she'd be better employed marking klicks, which she
  could do with her left hand, than left at Retreat fretting that she was
  useless.
  While that was being organized, she spent some time making bricks
  since
  she could fill the moulds left-handed.  She owed Sarah and Joe for their
  hand in the 'Great Furniture Surprise'.
  When some loggers were injured - two badly - she sat in the ward with
  them, checking pulse and temperatures; there were no blood-pressure
  
  than feeding him.  Then he asked her if she could teach him better
  English, since he was now stuck in bed and had to do something.
  Ex-teachers had gotten together with an ax-cartoonist and created a
  language primer for those who wished to learn English.  There were fifty
  copies in print, thanks to supplies on the KDL, and they were well-worn
  by the time Kris snagged a copy for Boris.
  Leon and Mayock managed to dilute the potency of their distillations so
  that it not only had the faint aftertaste of a Botany nut variety, but
  did not cause such speedy and legless inebriation.
  The only person whose metabolism could cope with the previous grain
  whisky was Zainal so, rather than water down what was left (which Leon
  felt was a crime), the remaining keg was given to him.  The first time
  he sampled it, Kris told him - l
  about Pete Easley getting her drunk on barely two half-glasses of it,
  and the hangover she'd had the next day.  That reminded her that she
  hadn't seen as much of Pete as usual.  But she thought nothing of it,
  going to her stints at the hospital or the brick factory.
  
  "Though I wish we could have started the cabin before we left.
  And thanks again, Kris, for all those bricks.  Worry's put his name in
  for a hundred, and so did Jay Greene.  We should have enough by the
  time
  we get back." 'We do appreciate the ones you did for us, too,' sai4Leila
  in her often inaudible voice.  She was holding hands with Whitby, while
  hanging on to a strap with the other.
  Leila looked a bit white, Kris thought, and wondered if she too was
  pregnant.  Sarah was, and very cocky about it, taking it in her stride
  like any modern woman.
  "Sure thing, Leila.  Kept me out of mischief,' said Kris.
  And actually, kept mischief away from her, for any of the importunate
  men who tried to charm her found themselves also making bricks, if
  that's where they caught up with her, or feeding a bed-bound patient,
  which was scarcely a romantic setting for the sort of offers they hoped
  to make.
  
  We've gone one thousand pleas again." She added a slash to her sheet.
  They found a way through the hills, through twisting but connecting
  ravines, separated by banks which the air cushion could manage easily.
  They marked the more accessible routes
  Al
  with Os in the blue, almost luminous paint that was a recent innovation.
  (Red and yellow had already been produced from local vegetable dyes.)
  The cur-de-sacs were marked with an X.
  For some reason, Zainal found the procedure very amusing but wouldn't
  tell her why.  They did not find any blind valleys nor night-crawlers,
  but they did find a new variety of rocksquat and some avians that were
  almost as good eating as chickens, though some caught closer to the
  sea
  left a fishy aftertaste in the mouth.
  They made their way down the coast until the rocky terrain was
  impassable even for the remarkably manoeuvrable vehicle.
  
  legs and arms of Catteni coveralls, cut in strips, softened slightly by
  much washing and use and adequate for their purpose.  Her arm was
  sweating so much in the heat that she was glad to change the wrap-
  pings
  with the extra roll of bandage that Joe had in his medical kit.
  "Arm's healing well,' he said, feeling the breaks with careful fingers.
  'I can feel the thickening of the bones where they've knitted." 'Doesn't
  hurt any more either,' she told him, though she sighed as he replaced
  splints and bandage strips.
  He gave her an odd sideways glance.  'Trip's done you good.
  You were looking a little off-colour before we left." 'Which reminds me?
  Anyone else having trouble digesting that pink-fleshed fruit we had last
  night?" she asked.
  Joe was not only medic but botanist.
  "No, but we didn't gorge on it either.  Why?  Got the runs?" 'No, a
  touch of indigestion, I guess,' and she shrugged it off, but Sarah had
  
  sea?"
  Defensively, Kris crossed her arms over her breasts, and as if Sarah's
  comment had been a curse they were tender.  She didn't dare change
  the
  position of her arms as her mind raced to the conclusion Sarah had
  obviously just reached.
  "I can't be pregnant,' she said, jerking her chin up.  'I've never .  .
  ."
  "Never what?" asked Sarah with a sly expression on her face.
  Kris closed her eyes, remembering the potent hooch she'd had for her
  arm, remembering Pete Easley offering her more, and more, and
  enough so
  that she had .  .  .
  "I'll kill him,' she said, meaning it fervently.  No wonder he had kept
  out of her way.  Just wait till she got back to Retreat.
  She'd .  .  .
  
  Kris hauled back her left arm to punch Sarah, but Zainal caught her
  around the waist.
  "You had to go blab it!" she shouted'trying to reach Sarah who had
  nimbly danced out of her way, with the grinning Joe moving into position
  to protect his mate, with hands out in a placatory move.
  "Now, Kris, don't go off half-cocked,' he said as Leila and Whitby came
  running over to see what could possibly have happened.
  "Kris is preggers, too!" Sarah crowed.
  Then Zainal was holding her so tightly to his chest, leaving her feet
  dangling above the ground, that she had to hang on to him for balance.
  "Thank you, Kris,' he murmured into her ear and all the fight went out
  of her.  She hung limply against him as his arms around her assumed a
  kinder hold, a loving one.  There couldn't be many males on any world
  who would thank a woman who got pregnant by another man.
  
  Kris chuckled, deciding on an entirely different course of action which
  meant she couldn't publicly go after one sweettalking lothario of a
  Peter Easley, but neither would she confirm it to him or anyone .  .
  .  unless of course the newborn gave some clue to its paternity.  That
  would serve that .  .  .  so-and-so right.
  Taking advantage of a girl in her condition .  .  .  and yet .  .  .
  she suppressed any recollection of what she hadn't been able to re-
  member
  of an incident that would result in a lasting and visible proof.
  "That's for me to know, and you to guess,' she said, delighted to be
  able to pay Sarah back for blurting out what Kris would rather have kept
  secret.
  The long trek up the eastern coast went well, all other events
  considered, and everyone settled down to the fact of her pregnancy.  At
  night Zainal held her against him with a tenderness she certainly had
  not expected of him: enough to make her eyes water and wish, with all
  
  "Actually, you're lucky you're here on Botany.  Doesn't take as long,'
  Leon said with a wry grin.
  "What do you mean?  It doesn't take as long?"
  "Average pregnancy is 260 280 days.  But it'll only take you 212.8
  Botanical days to gestate." When she blinked in confusion at him, he
  grinned and added, 'Thirty-hour days don't change the development rate
  of a foetus, but it sure alters the days you stay pregnant."
  "Oh!'
  "Most of my o.b.  patients find that comforting."
  "I'll remember that."
  Word of her pregnancy got around, and she could find additional com-
  fort
  in the fact that her 'admirers' went elsewhere with their persuasions.
  
  her.
  The temperature was definitely warming up and bushes were blossom-
  ing,
  spreading a heady smell that the inland breeze wafted down to the Bay
  area.  The agricultural teams had ploughed during their absence, and
  sowed the fields with seed purloined from the now deserted Bella Vista
  camp in a special trip of the KDL.  As no ship had come to collect what
  was left of the grain, the KDL did, for the supplies brought across the
  channel were low.
  The silos were swept clean for this year's storage.
  On the continent that had been evacuated, the machines had been
  ploughing, too, and many of the fields were sown.  Some wit among the
  Aggies set up a competition, one-sided though it was, as to the growth
  and health of their crops versus the Farmers' and the resultant yield
  per acre.  The Aggies had already elected to use fields the same size
  the Farmers had, since the arable land seemed to divide into such
  sections: another clue that this continent might once have been farmed
  too.  The rustled loo-cows grazed the less desirable fields and the
  
  Astrid put forward the theory that it was the loo-cows, excreting
  internal parasites that had a second cycle as nightcrawlers. There were
  enough to agree with her, but it made for an interesting argument in the
  evenings and had those with wooden floors in their huts replacing them
  with thick slate or flagstones.  And many of those who had not sited
  their dwellings moved nearer the better-travelled areas.
  No-one walked out at night on any field, and the sentinel positions were
  either made of stone or set high above the ground on stilts.
  This was, however, a very minor setback.  Compost heaps were hastily
  shifted to stone tubs, and the disposal of noxious wastes was no longer
  a problem.  Not that anyone wanted nightcrawlers in a latrine. Since
  such facilities no longer had to be dug, it became a punishment chore to
  do the late evening dumps, far enough from the rapidly expanding
  community to reduce the hazard of night-crawler infestation to the
  populated areas.
  Spring lasted months, but the fine weather assured the Aggies of
  excellent crops, as good as or even better than what the Farmers were
  cultivating.  The varieties of tubers and pulses occupied half as many
  
  Admiral Ray Scott threw his first successful pot, or Bull Fetterman
  completed a set of six dining-chairs, and Marrucci managed a creditable
  mortise-and-tenon drawer for his chest, remained landmarks in the
  assimilation
  of the disparate ax-professionals into true Botanicals.
  There were failures, as Mitford put it: people who refused to do their
  share of work, or felt themselves put upon by 'authority' to always
  having to do the less glamorous tasks.  Judge Bempechat gave each
  offender three chances to redeem himself or herself in the eyes of the
  community.  Then the unrepentant had a one-way trip back to the Old
  Continent where they could fend for themselves, with cup, blanket, knife
  and hatchet.  After the expulsion of the first dozen or so, delinquency
  reduced significantly.
  Once a month, the two valley prisons were visited.  The Turs disap-
  peared
  one by one until the valley was empty.  The Catteni eventually put up
  shelters and, when they asked for supplies like nails, or meat as a
  change from a fish diet - these were provided.  But nothing that could
  
  consider we're damned near city size with our own distillery .  .
  ." He was hoping to add wine to the spirits and had already been south
  for the soft fruits as a basis for his 'cordial'.
  "They like it the way they have it now,' and Zainal shrugged.
  "D'you think the Turs did escape?" Marrucci asked.
  "Who cares?"
  "You gotta point there." The Tub went regularly to the mines with
  supplies for the men and women working there, to rotate change per-
  sonnel
  and bring back ore.  The judge often gave a month's sentence at hard
  labour for misdemeanors, and only one ever found mining an enjoyable
  occupation; he stayed on.
  For evening entertainment, those with any talent provided shows,
  managing to remember enough of a musical comedy or even a play to
  put on
  
  that barter made a better system for a small community like theirs where
  everyone was expected to work communityhours, not pay to get out of
  the
  labour.  Among the diverse trades of the colonists there were several
  jewellers.  They would contract to produce jewellery for those who found
  gold, and even a few gemstones, and decided among themselves what
  was
  fair payment in grams of the metal.
  Iri Bempechat had taken on several assistants as legal advisers in
  disputes, most of which could be settled by compromise.
  However, the ax-military personnel formed lower court, but their
  decisions could be appealed, leaving Judge Bempechat to give the final
  verdict on an issue.
  "We don't need a formal government,' Beverly had said one evening
  when
  the topic came up again in a mess hall that was more crowded than
  usual
  due to an unusually heavy and long fall of rain.  (It was the beginning
  
  mellifluous voice reaching to the furthest corners.
  "Those of us with special expertise have taken on the duties required to
  ensure peace and tranquillity.  Community hours handle public services,
  such as they are, and the rest of us work where we can be useful and at
  our previous professions for the most part, even in the limited fashion
  due to the constraints of supplies.  I suppose we should thank our lucky
  stars that we have so many skills among us.
  Practically every walk of life is represented.  Our alien associates,'
  and he gestured to the Rugarians sitting in their usual group, and the
  Deskis who were more apt to mix in with humans, 'have supplemented
  us in
  many ingenious ways.  I think some of us may have a chuckle, compar-
  ing
  what we used to do with what we're doing now, but frankly, I think it's
  been beneficial as well as instructive.  We're all doing very well
  indeed.  And able, for the most part, to do what we do the way we want
  to.  Certainly without any bureaucratic interferences, and certainly
  without a thread of red tape.
  
  Farmers
  come?" Balenquah asked, glancing around.
  "Leave it to Balenquah,' an anonymous male voice said.
  "What does that mean?" the pilot asked, rising from his chair and
  staring round, trying to discover the source.
  "It means,' Marrucci said, reaching across the table and hauling
  Balenquah down, 'you're out of order, off course, and being a pain in
  the arse again.  You're alive, you're sure kicking, you're even flying,
  and if that isn't better than starving in a Catteni prison for blowing
  up their freighter, you're gone in the head." 'Don't say another word,'
  Beverly put in from a nearby table, 'if you want to fly again." 'That's
  just what I mean,' Balenquah complained.  'We need a formal govern-
  ment,
  so you know who's got the right to give orders." "That's enough out of
  you, Balenquah,' said Scott, seconding Beverly's admonition.
  "You're not an admiral of anything here, Scott,' Balenquah said.
  
  'ladies' table', 'not the only one who thinks
  so."
  Balenquah rose, with his right arm cocked but, even before Marrucci
  could rise to defend himself, Scott had nodded to the man beside him
  and
  they had risen, captured Balenquah's arm and were hustling him out of
  the mess hall and into the rain.
  Add bouncer to my list of new-world occupations,' Scott said to Beverly
  as the two returned to their seats.
  At their table, Kris found herself sharing a bit of Balenquah's
  pessimism.  The problem of the Farmers was just beneath the surface
  of
  everyone's thoughts, despite the way most people carried on as if there
  were not that threat hanging over them.
  Zainal kept insisting that the Farmers were benign.  He could give no
  other reason for that than the way this planet had been tended for
  
  night-crawlers, although walkers automatically stamped hard every third
  step.
  Kris let Zainal do it for them both as she didn't like jarring the baby
  she could now feel move, in little flutters, within her: normal activity
  at five months.  Sarah kept complaining that her little dear kicked like
  a soccer star, but she was eight months along.  By now, almost every
  female of child-bearing age, including the Deski and Rugarians, was
  expecting - which meant that Retreat Bay would have a baby boom of
  2,103
  new souls.  Anna Bollinger might have given birth to the first human
  baby on Botany, but there had since been thirty-four born to women who
  had been captured pregnant.  Now the new crop which had been
  ploughed on
  Botany, as someone had remarked in a biblical fashion - were reaching
  tem.  Patti Sue was first, and prideful about producing a son for Jay
  Greene.
  Kris didn't know which she wanted, apart from being healthy
  and not too much resembling its sire.  Somehow she couldn't ask Zainal
  
  smallest continent - really more of a very large island than a
  continental land-mass - to circumnavigate it, the coastline being the
  only part that was green.
  "Bit like Australia outback,' Sarah remarked as Zainal guided Baby
  cries-cross the interior.  'Like Nullarbor.  Nothing for Flicks!
  Not even mulga or brush .  .  .  sand and rock,' she added in disgust.
  "Hmmm, yes, I see,' Joe said, without explaining his cryptic remark as
  he gazed out the starboard side in the pilot's compartment.
  "Real rock!" He pointed now to a rocky ridge that ran obliquely across
  below them, like vertebrae, with dips and spires.  'Dinosaur bones."
  "Hmmm, that's what they do look like,' Kris agreed.
  Whitby insisted that they land and spend one night at the base of that
  range, where the spatial maps indicated one of the ore deposits.
  
  back, with her gravid belly out and turning her face up to the sun.
  "Good way to get sunstroke,' Joe said as he slammed her reedweave
  hat on
  her head.  'We are not, I repeat, we are not delivering you prematurely
  in the confines of Baby." 'Having a baby in the Baby?" Sarah was off in
  a fit of the giggles.
  Whitby, Leila, Joe and Zainal went off to try and locate the ore, laden
  with bottles for samples and soil.  Sarah and Kris, who found the heat
  especially enervating, found what shade they could in the lee of Baby by
  digging out enough soil under the landing vanes to sit on blankets. Kris
  dozed off while Sarah dragged her hands through the scattered rocks,
  trying to find interesting ones.
  Sarah, too, dozed off, and they were both awakened by the laughter of
  the returning prospectors.  Each carried some sort of dead animal,
  resembling a large rat.
  Kris recoiled when Zainal plunked three brace beside her.  The pelts
  caught her attention because they were mottled in soft sandy shades.
  
  closer examination.  You never know what might be useful." He grinned
  wickedly.  'Or tasty.  And nutritious." 'How would you know?
  You never hunted out back with the aborigines,' Sarah said.
  "Neither did you."
  "But I did a paper on the ones the aborigines favour,' she replied hotly
  and they were off again.
  The desert burrowers - Kris declined to think of them as 'rats' were
  skinned and, after Joe did further tests with the equipment in Baby,
  were cooked in the galley and served as part of the evening meal.
  The flesh was different in texture and taste from anything else that
  Botany had provided: sort of nutty and sleek.  Almost difficult to bite
  into.
  Twilight brought out their natural predators, bat-like creatures who
  swooped on long triangular wings from rocky eyries to catch the
  burrowers.  The cooler air encouraged a different set of insects to
  
  "We've some like that on ol' Earth,' Joe remarked, watching from the
  scout.
  The men were in general pleased with their prospecting and had
  marked
  the areas with the blue paint, though Whitby and Joe argued about its
  durability in the unremitting sun.
  "Well, we'll wear test it good, then,' Joe said, shrugging. "And we've
  the coordinates anyway." Zainal made for the coast in the dawn-light the
  next morning and, keeping Baby at a low altitude, made a touchdown in
  those spots that looked different.  This tropical area displayed fruits
  and nuts, not unlike citrus and coconut, and samples were gathered of
  everything, including a different variety of insect life.
  Kris found the smell of rotting vegetable and fruit unsettling, but said
  nothing until the reserved Leila murmured a complaint.
  "There're sort of plateaus up ahead,' Whitby pointed out.
  "Maybe cooler up there, with an off-shore breeze to keep the gnats and
  
  even smaller fronds to use as fans, and the breezes were cooling and
  pleasantly scented with whatever was blooming further inland.
  Leila took off exploring with Whitby, but she came back with her face
  and bare arms blotchy with contact to plants they had had to cut their
  way through.
  "The sap which zapped me,' Leila said as Kris and Sarah washed her
  arms
  and face, 'is very sticky, and Joe is hoping we've found a rubber
  substitute." 'The hard way,' said Sarah in a droll tone of voice.  'Is
  this helping?"
  r
  Leila gave a little sigh.  'Only as long as the wet's on me." 'What
  wouldn't we give for a decent anti-histamine!" Sarah said fervently.
  "We've chemists enough .  .  ." said Kris.
  "And only the one microscope, which evidently isn't strong enough to do
  
  "I must've miscounted,' Sarah said apologetically lo her midwives when
  she realized her labour had begun.  'This business of thirty-hour days
  and seven-month pregnancies!'
  "Nonsense,' Kris and Leila retorted in the same breath.  'It isn't
  as if we don't know what to do,' Kris added, though her mind I was
  revolving in a panic over all the things they didn't have on board the
  scout that might be needed.
  None were, as Sarah's fine lusty baby took the minimum of time in
  arriving so that both mother and child were all cleaned up when the
  father leapt into the clearing, red-faced with exertion and badly
  scratched in his effort to get back in time.  Then Whitby and Zainal
  were congratulating him and Sarah, and admiring the baby.  Kris had
  her
  eyes on Zainal, wondering if human babies were in any way different
  from
  Catteni newborns.
  
  few ounces.  And healthy!" 'And I feel fine,' Sarah said, 'and it's so
  good to do this,' she added, for she was sitting up with arms around her
  knees, a position she hadn't been able to assume for several months.
  l l 'How big are Catteni babies, if you think this one's small?" Kris
  asked, deciding she'd better straighten him out before he could be
  disappointed in what she produced.
  Zainal measured a distance with his hands.
  "I pity the females who have to carry that much around,' said Sarah,
  shaking her head.
  "Bigger head, quite likely, and bigger bones,' Joe said sagely.
  "He's healthy, that's what matters,' Whitby remarked in a definitive
  tone.
  But young Anthony Marley caused the team to leave the insalubrious
  area
  and head back to Retreat Bay.  Sarah tried to talk them out of an early
  
  Anthony was as healthy and normal as any mother could wish.
  The Doyle brothers, who now spent more time as carpenters and join-
  ers,
  instructing others in the art, presented Sarah and Joe with a cradle for
  the infant.
  "Working all the hours God gave Botany to keep up with the demand,'
  Lenny said, after duly admiring young Anthony and congratulating the
  parents.  'You know, this place is getting more like home all the time,
  with the babees arriving." He looked melancholy.
  "You miss your own?" Sarah asked, putting a sympathetic hand on his
  arm.
  Lenny's face brightened into a grin.  'Sort've, but who's got time to
  think of what we left behind with so much to do where we are?"
  If Zane Charles Bjornsen arrived on Botany at dawn exactly 222
  days after conception.  He was a long child - in that he did resemble
  
  "Zane is a perfectly good name,' Kris had told Zainal.  'One of
  my favourite Western writers was Zane Grey.  And I admireI
  Chuck Mitford."
  "But he is not the father." Zainal did no more than raise one eyebrow at
  her, tacitly asking the question she had refused to answer.
  "No, but I see no reason I .  .  .  we .  .  .  can't do him the honour
  of being godfather."
  "God father?" Zainal's lips twitched.  'O God, o God .  .  .?"
  "Not that sort.  The deity that Father Jacob reveres, the real God."
  "There is one?"
  Zainal had trouble believing in the Almighty, though the several
  ministers who had been dropped were trying to establish services.  The
  Protestants had no problems, but Father Jacob did since he had none of
  
  "If God is everywhere, then He's here, too, padre, and He'll accept the
  worship of the sincere, dedicated to Him.  The earliest Catholics had no
  altar or relics, and communion was bread and wine.  We got them.  We
  got
  the dedication.  You say the words and I'll be altar boy."  Mitford was
  both pleased and alarmed to have a child named for him.  'Everyone will
  think he's mine, and he isn't,' the sergeant said at his gruffest.  'Not
  that I wish he weren't, Kris,' he added hastily.
  "I mean, I'd've been honoured if you'd wanted to, but .  .  .  well,
  hell, you know what I mean."
  "Yes, I do, Chuck."
  "So who is the lucky guy?" 'Remember that hooch Leon and Mayock
  made,
  about the time I broke my arm?" 'Yeah, I do,' and Mitford looked
  surprised, then he scowled deeply.
  "You mean you got raped and never reported it?" His fists clenched as if
  he held the neck of the offender within them.
  
  "No, I don't."
  "Can't do anything about it.  But maybe when Zane grows up, we'll know
  for sure.  Zainal couldn't care less."
  I'
  "NO, he couldn't - and you know, the way he's taken this hasn't lost him
  any points." Zainal was at that moment changing his foster son's fluff
  diapers.  The reeds which produced the useful material were being
  cultivated everywhere they would grow around Retreat Bay.
  The sticky sap that had been such a problem on their last reconnais-
  sance
  trip had been harvested and, poured into a mould, made a reasonable
  facsimile of waterproof garments for baby use.  They could be washed
  and
  re-used four or five times but gradually dissolved, often at the wrong
  time.
  Mitford grinned, watching the anomaly of a Catteni Emassi acting the
  
  and did not survive.
  The promised creches were opened, and every female had the right to
  leave their youngling in the general care for her day's work or whatever
  community service she performed.  Sometimes it was creche duty.  Kris
  started the fad of the papoose board, dredging that up from reading
  Westerns and historical novels about Indians.  It worked well for babies
  up to three months, and for shorter periods after that.
  "I said you will be a good mother,' Zainal said with a touch of smug
  pride when she showed him how she could carry Zane around.
  To Kris's astonishment, she didn't find caring for Zane as onerous as
  she had expected, and that had little to do with Zainal's enthusiasm for
  the child.  She had never had anything so completely dependent on her,
  so trusting, and so precious to her.  Once or twice, she wondered if she
  was being unfair to Pete Easley by not telling him.
  But he and one of the Swedish Aggies
  .
  
  powder for talcum, an ointment for diaper and other minor rashes, a way
  to weave some of the vegetable fibres into cloth for proper
  baby-clothes, and a spinning-wheel to make knitting yarn out of the
  loo-cow hairs.  The creatures had grown longer coats for protection
  during the colder weather.  These were collected - before the
  night-crawlers could - and spun, then washed and/or felled.
  The crops grew lush and green on both continents.  The Catteni contin-
  ued
  to do nothing in their valley.  The miners excavated tons of iron,
  copper, tin, zinc, lead, gold andsilver - and occasionally some unusual
  clear stones which the jewellers thought a variant of tourmaline.  But
  then, no-one was looking for gemstones or in the places where rubies,
  emeralds, sapphires or diamonds - which would have been useful for
  their
  hardness - might be found.
  Bone was more useful, and the heavy bones in the four rearlegs of the
  loo-cows were scrupulously cleaned and dried for carving.
  Zane was just five months old when the Deski sentinel startled everyone
  
  he pulled on his coverall.  Even in such a ridiculous pose, Kris admired
  his physique.  If only Zane could have osmosed a single gene from his
  foster father .  .  .
  "It's down,' Zainal added, as he closed the hand-unit and concentrated
  on dressing himself as fast as possible.
  "What's down?" 'The Balloon." He had both boots on now and was
  starting
  for the door.
  "I'm coming, too,' she said.
  "Not like that!" He raked her with a disapproving look, for she was
  draped in a blanket.
  She thrust Zane at his father and dressed as quickly as he, retrieved
  the blanket and two spare reed-pods and was inserting the baby into the
  sling she usually carried him in even as she settled into a passenger
  seat of the air-cushion truck.  Zainal spun the control wheel and the
  vehicle charged off into the crepuscular light of dawn towards the
  
  "Desk) heard something, not like anything else they have heard,' Zainal
  was saying, 'and warned the bridge.  The bridge watch had already
  seen
  something on the screen, but couldn't make out what." 'The Farmers?"
  Kris asked, scared to the pit of her stomach as she jiggled her son.
  Motion always put him to sleep, even upset with teething as he was, and
  even this short trip worked its magic on him.
  Those alerted were arriving on air cushion, running as fast as they
  could and often faster than the basic push-bikes which had been
  developed for short-distance transportation.  Pneumatic tyres were still
  to be perfected, but the iron rims did well enough on the flagstone and
  dirt tracks and were speedier than walking.
  All the lights in the hangar were on, and the hatches on the KDL, Baby
  and the office were open.  Runabouts were parked helter-skelter.
  Zainal guided Kris to the of rice which was nearest.  The bridgei
  there would show just as much as the ships' would, and there'd be more
  space for her and the baby.  In such little matters, Zainal always
  
  the orbital, 'is not heard.  Something landed." He spoke with more force
  than a Deski usually did.  He'd probably been repeating it to Scott.
  Now Coo stabbed his spidery finger at the Farmers' Command Post, the
  one
  which Kris, Zainal and the others had investigated well over a Botanical
  year ago: where Dick Aarens had deliberately activated a homing de-
  vice.
  "Then what .  .  ." and Scott irritably followed the course of the
  orbital with one finger.  Just then its track shifted to a north/south
  orientation.  Even as they watched, it completed several whip-rounds
  the
  large globe of Botany.  '.  .  .  What is that?" 'We will know .  .
  ." Zainal paused, eyes watching the progress of the orbital on the
  screen '.  .  .  about now."
  They felt the tingling zap of a scan and he chuckled.
  "Oh migod,' said Fetterman, sitting down as if his legs had given out.
  
  Kris barely prevented herself from saying, 'Oh, no, you won't,' before
  Scott lifted both hands in a refusal, his eyes not moving from the
  screen.  The comunit bleeped and he toggled it open.
  "We were just scanned?" It was Beverly's voice.
  "Coo says they landed at the Command Post."
  "Nothing's showing up there,' said Beverly.
  Coo nodded emphatically, reaffirming his report.
  "Fek agrees,' Beverly went on.  'Haven't we established they use matter
  transmission?"
  "Oh, oh,' Yowell said, and he stumbled backwards to collapse
  on the nearest stool, his face a study of conflicting emotions: hope,
  fear, anxiety and confusion.
  Coo's head turned towards the office door and he rose to his feet,
  
  As they left the office, she glanced over at the KDL and saw Fek's
  unmistakable shape in the hatch, then Balenquah's stocky frame
  silhouetted briefly in the hatch light, followed by Worrell's slightly
  stooped figure, the tall erect one that was probably Rastancil, the
  slight frame of a woman whom she didn't recognize, and Slav.  From
  Baby
  came Mitford, Easley, Yuri and Judge Iri.
  They converged, forming a semi-circle facing outwards.
  What happened before their eyes did not resemble anything from a Star
  Trek programme.  No coloured lights, beams or columns; nor any other
  special effect Kris remembered from just about all the science fiction
  films and videos she'd seen.  And yet it was.  Something was out there,
  forming a solid mass which moved towards them, a nimbus around a
  darker
  interior.  Something which even by the dawn light looked larger than the
  tallest of the waiting humans.
  Then it wasn't taller and seemed to spread out, and she recognized the
  
  "They're shape-changers,' she whispered.  'They're changing nto us?"
  Coo sucked breath in, a slow sound - terror?  Apprehension?
  Defensive?  Kris tightened her grip, not knowing if she was giving or
  seeking support.
  "Shape-changers?" Scott hissed, eyes never leaving what was in front
  of
  his as he leaned slightly in her direction.
  "There's a Deski and a Rugarian, and the rest are humans.  But not as
  many of them as there are of us." When the transformation was com-
  plete,
  and there was no doubt that these visitors showed representations of
  the
  three species facing them, each group regarded the other.
  "There's no Catteni." Kris's comment was barely audible, but the
  omission caused a little giggle to escape her which she hastily
  suppressed.  If these were the Farmers - and every evidence pointed to
  
  did.  It was so silly to just stand there, looking at each other.
  "Hello,' she said, making the word friendly and inquiring. She stepped
  around Zainal and inadvertently pulled Coo with her, just as Judge Iri
  Bempechat took a step forward.  She knew she had a silly smirk on her
  face as she looked at the Judge for what to do next.
  Whether she was impertinent or not, she never did find out, but the
  judge grinned fleetingly at her - so she felt she hadn't done anything
  really wrong - and he held out both hands, the galactic indication (she
  hoped) of being unarmed.
  "We have hoped that we would meet you, and explain our presence on
  a
  planet which you have clearly used for many thousands of years,' he
  said, inclining his upper body slightly forward in a gesture that was as
  dignified as it was hospitable.  'I realize that you do not understand
  what I'm saying, but I hope the sincerity with which I speak will be
  apparent.  We do realize that we have trespassed on your property, but
  we were brought
  
  "We moved to this continent because you are not farming it now.
  We did not wish to interfere with your installations here.
  We wish to stay .  .  .  with your permission, if it is at all possible,
  because we do not have sufficient transportation to leave here.
  Can we try to make you understand?  Somehow?" He opened his hands
  towards them again, with dignity and entreaty.
  "It is understood,' said a voice remarkably like the judge's.
  Whoever had spoken had done so so quickly that Kris hadn't seen any
  mouth moving.  Then she realized that no-one had spoken; the voice
  was
  right in her own head.  Zane moved restlessly again.
  "We have come to meet with you.  I30 not be afraid.  We do not injure.
  We do not kill.  We do not inhabit.  You are very young, all of you."
  
  and
  he pointed to himself and then to Kris.
  "We have seen the Deski and passed them by.  They do well as they
  are.
  Why are so many here?  Why are three .  .  .  no, five species .  .
  .  here on this planet?" 'We were dropped here.  We have to stay,'
  Judge
  Iri said in a wry voice, flashing a glance at Zainal.
  "Because the others, like this one,' and now the spokesperson gestured
  a
  well-shaped hand towards the Catteni, 'have put you here against your
  will to make a colony of this world." 'I see that we will not have to
  tell you much,' said Judge Iri.
  "You read the thoughts in our minds."
  "Such as they are,' and yet there was a kindness rather than a
  
  "And you are?"
  "In essence."
  "Not as the Eosi are,' said Zainal.
  The entity turned its head to the new speaker.  'We are not familiar
  with either the name or your mental image of these Eosi." "That's the
  best way to be,' someone remarked softly and, for a moment, Kris
  thought
  it had to be Mitford.  It sounded like him.  Or maybe Yowell, since the
  sergeant was in the central group, and Vic much closer.
  "We seek your help to escape from the domination of the Eosi over my
  people, the Catteni, and these other species,' Zainal said, gesturing
  urgently at those around him.
  "Such a process includes species' injury, which we do not condone."
  'Even if injuries continue to be perpetrated on innocent species who
  have no protection against the superior force?" Judge Bempechat
  asked.
  
  "There are ways.  Learn them.
  The figures began to dissolve.
  "How are you called?" the judge asked, taking a quick step forward in an
  effort to prevent their leaving.
  "You have named us Farmers.  It is appropriate." The spokesman
  smiled in
  the most benign way.
  Kris mused that this entity would have been well cast as Jesus Christ.
  l
  l
  Lid
  r
  
  startling Zane awake.  He let out a yell.
  One of the Farmers glided forward.  The legs moved but the female -
  because she appeared subtly feminine to Kris as she approached - did
  not
  make contact with the ground in an actual walk.
  "They observe well,' and again a thought was inserted in her head as
  the
  being reached her and looked down at Zane.  Despite Kris's attempts to
  soothe him, the first yell segued into soft, fearful crying. Not that
  she blamed Zane for reacting to the tension, the disappointment and the
  fear that clogged the air around him.  Certainly those were her own
  feelings.
  "We have so much to ask you.  So many questions,' Easley said
  beseechingly.
  "This is your child!" the female said, and she turned back to Kris.
  Kris could no more have refused to display her son than she could have
  
  sounded
  envious.  'We are!'
  "Then we may stay?" Kris asked earnestly.
  "You stay.  We will observe but we do not interfere."
  "May we leave?" Zainal asked, making a sphere with his hands.
  "It is for your protection,' the first speaker said.
  "We are grateful,' said Judge Iri, shooting a warning look at Zamal.
  "That is more than the others were,' the thought crept into
  Kris's mind, and the female reversed her glide to rejoin her group.
  The instant they were all together again, they disappeared.
  Like zap!  Kris thought, as her son gurgled happily in her arms.
  
  Scott called for quiet.  Judge Bempechat said in a humble tone that he
  had certainly not intended to speak for everyone but he suddenly found
  he was speaking.  Balenquah railed at Kris for her stupid 'hello'.
  "Well, we couldn't ask them to take us to them leader, could we?" she
  responded.  'And keep your voice down around my baby!'
  :'Were you going to give him to them?" Balenquah demanded.
  "Don't be such an idiot.  She wanted to look at him,' Kris said and
  walked away from the egregious pilot.  She'd thought Aarens was
  obnoxious, but Balenquah opened up a whole new category of insuffer-
  able.
  "NOW LISTEN UP,' Scott said, raising his voice over the babble.
  "We are allowed to stay.  That was the most important fact we needed
  to
  know, wasn't it?" As he spoke, the sound of excited voices and the hum
  of aircushion vehicles nearing the hangar could be more clearly heard.
  
  ambulance.
  Their faces were wreathed with the elated grins of persons big with
  news, which faded as they too realized that their experience was by no
  means unique.
  Al 'How many shape-changers came?" Kris said into the silence.
  Then the main comunit was buzzing as all lines into the office seemed
  to
  go off at once.
  "Rather unusual mass hallucination then,' Dane said wryly.
  "Should we compare notes?  We can stay, or so they said, and we can
  refer to them as the Farmers .  .  ." 'Since that is appropriate,' the
  judge added in a tone much like Leon's.
  "Did we all ask the same questions?" Leon asked, looking at Scott and
  then Zainal.
  
  No group of Farmers had been larger than those they had confronted.
  The
  five people on watch at the Command Post had been approached by
  three:
  those at the mess hall where the majority of people had been having
  breakfast had counted thirty.  The hospital had been favoured with
  fifteen.
  "All at the same time?" Leon asked, astounded.
  "Fifty at least, and they could not all have fitted in that orbital!"
  Beverly said.
  "That depends on how much space shape-changers need,' Kris re-
  marked.
  "If they appeared to all of us, why didn't someone find out more about
  them?" Scott demanded, exasperated.  'We all had the chance to make
  the
  confrontation substantive." 'We all had the same chance,' Rastancil
  
  that has the technology they have?  We're far too young to deserve
  more
  than the few minutes they spent here with us." 'Let us look at the
  positive aspects of that confrontation,' Pete Easley said, holding up a
  restraining hand to Scott who seemed to be the one most offended by
  the
  lost opportunity.  'We now have permission to stay.  I got the distinct
  impression,' and he turned to Zainal for confirmation, 'that we may even
  be able to get through the Balloon but others, like the Eosi, won't be
  able to."
  Zainal nodded.
  "I'd like you to organize a flight to test that, Zainal. Today, if at
  all possible,' Scott said, grasping a point he could understand and
  react to.  'I don't know if that advances yourPhase Three plan but .  .
  ." and he shrugged.
  "What did they mean about "that is more than the others"?" Kris asked.
  Scott, Zainal and the judge regarded her with surprise.
  
  thoughts inserted in his mind too.
  "They envy us having children,' she said, looking around.  And caught
  Pete Easley's eyes.  He smiled at her and then she remembered the
  female's remark.  'This is your child!" And the female had been looking
  at Pete, not at Kris.
  The truth will out, won't it, Kris thought to herself and nodded.
  She had been mean not to tell him before: depriving him of that
  knowledge out of spite.  He smiled back at her, a really happy smile,
  before pointing at Scott who was repeating a question aimed at her.
  "I'm sorry, Ray, what did you ask me?"
  "What else did you "hear" that we didn't?"
  l
  "I dunno,' she said with a shrug.  'I never thought I was telepathic.  I
  
  "They have been at Deski world,' Coo said, rather proudly.
  "You come off better than we humans do, then,' Judge Bempechat said,
  grinning broadly.
  Kris noticed that Scott had been about to speak but the Judge had
  forestalled the admiral with a much more diplomatic comment.  Scott
  closed his mouth.
  "I think,' the judge went on, reaching for pen and paper, 'we had best
  organize that astonishing interview as best we can recall it. And insert
  whatever we individually may have heard with the public comments."
  "Good idea,' Leon agreed.
  "We might have more in the composite than we got individually,' the
  judge said.  'We must ask the miners to do the same, and those at the
  Command Post - everyone who met our shape-changing Farmers." Zai-
  nal left
  midmorning, with Marrucci, Balenquah and Beverly, to fly to the Balloon
  
  "I wonder.  Are they doing this sort of re-hash on their way back home?"
  Kris said at one point during the painstaking reconstruction of who had
  said what, when and where.
  "I doubt it,' said Rastancil.  'They picked our brains quite easily, so
  they'd probably all know what went on everywhere else.
  "Probably as it was being done,' Worry said with a sniff.  Most
  uncharacteristically, he had a distinctly unworried expression on his
  face.
  Almost everyone - or at least those who worried about special problems
  -
  had been given 'private' information.  Leon Dane, fretting over medical
  problems for which he had no treatment and waiting for a chance to ask
  for advice, had been told which specific plants to find and, 'like some
  sort of a super blast into my head', he got the method of refining and
  the beneficial dosages to use.
  "We've already tested most of the plants as either noxious or damned
  
  like the fluff which we can use to spin into cloth,' Janet said.  'He
  was so like Jesus Christ."
  "Who is with us,' Kris added.
  "What did you say?" Janet was indignant.
  "'He is not among you?" was what I heard,' Kris said.
  "And you will note,' Janet went on, drawing herself up with great
  dignity, 'that they appeared to us in human form.  So we now have
  confirmation of the Almighty's appearance.  Human!" 'That's because
  you
  had neither Rugarians nor Deskis in with you at the time,' Sandy Areson
  said, but she spoke without her usual irreverence for Janet's overt
  religiosity.  'We had both Deski and Rugarians, because that's who were
  having breakfast with us humans." The sentries at the Command Post
  had
  been kindly informed that their presence there was no longer needed.
  The
  miners had been assured that the Farmers did not object to the use of
  
  Universal had been the permission to remain on the second continent,
  acceptance of the tem 'Farmers', and the fact that they did not condone
  'species' injury'.
  "They were sad to see us so far from home,' Coo admitted
  'and?" Judge Bempechat prompted, when it was obvious Coo had been
  told
  more than that.  'Did they suggest returning you 'Not now,' Coo said.
  'We are better here." Then he had smiled n his fashion. 'Much better
  here." 'We too,' Slav added.  'No-one safe with Catteni." He drew his
  brows together and managed to suck his lips inside his mouth, ndcatmg
  great displeasure.  'Farmers not see danger?" he added, looking from
  the
  Judge to Scott, Worrell and those still left m the office.
  "Not if it causes species' injury, which they do not seem willing to
  commit even on territorially aggressive races like the Catteni .  .
  ." the Judge began and when Kris cleared her throat, 'I stand corrected,
  
  clapped at this verification of the tacit Farmer permission.  Kris,
  however, held her breath.
  "I wouldn't,' said Easley, who was standing next to her.  'He could be
  out a while." Inadvertently Kris met his eyes and exhaled with a weak
  smile.
  She had been trying to avoid any conversation with him.
  "So much hooch that day, I honestly don't remember what I did, or that I
  did,' he continued in a low voice.  'He's a good baby for you?"
  "Couldn't be better,' she said, looking fatuously down at the
  sleeping Zane.  'Thank you." And then she added, to keep him in his
  place, 'I think." Pete Easley gave a wry chuckle at her amendment and
  gave her shoulder a squeeze before he moved away.  She would almost
  rather that he had stayed because the wait was a long one.  She bet
  anything that Zainal was making sure the Eosi knew he'd been outside
  the
  Balloon, probably spinning the scout on its axis around the orbital as
  
  But wasn't he taking an awful risk for all of them?  What if the Balloon
  would give way to the Eosi warship now, In her arms, Zane sighed and
  snuggled closer to her.  No, she thought, he would do nothing to
  jeopardize his son.
  "Ah, he's back inside!" Bert let out another loud crow which caused
  Zane
  to stir uneasily.  'Heading home!" Relieved that Zainal had succeeded,
  Kris decided that she could now leave discreetly.  Zane would need to
  be
  fed when he woke this time, and changed, and she'd run out of fluff
  pods.
  She was tired, too, with all the excitement of meeting the Farmers, and
  then the re-hash of who had heard what and where.  Once she'd fed her
  son, she'd have time for a rest before Zainal touched down.
  The orbital duly recorded the emergence of a small vehicle from the
  protective veil: its emergence, its brief run around the fixed satellite
  and then its insertion.  Nothing could be recorded past the obstacle,
  but this brief flight was enough of a phenomenon for the orbital to send
  
  "Removing the markings fools no-one,' the Ix said.  'And if a
  - r l
  scout with limited power can penetrate that obstacle in both directions,
  so can we!" The warship, the AAI, plus its sister ship which had just
  passed its test flights and been commissioned, were supplied and
  crewed
  for the fastest possible return to the system in question.
  Twice the fire-power of the previous visit would certainly punch a hole
  through whatever it was that had impeded their exit and then refused to
  readmit the AAI.
  "This time Zainal will return for appropriate punishment,' the Ix Mentat
  said, turning over in its mind the kinds of physical abuse that would
  wreak the worst pain and humiliation on the chosen who had failed to
  present himself at Eosi command.  It savoured scenes of dismember-
  ment,
  of flaying alive, of the application of noxious substances to the few
  tender portions of Catteni anatomy.
  
  They were on the threshold of a new era in Eosi domination!  Let no one
  curtail their pleasure in achievement.  The galaxy would eventually be
  theirs!
  When attacked by the might of Eosian naval strength, the barrier
  remained impervious to any combination of the missiles, beams and
  force
  available.  The attack was useless against the barrier, and the
  bombardment of weapons of all kinds provedI insufficient to pierce it.
  Only those on the planet remainedI
  unaware of the attempt.
  Throughout the Eosian-dominated systems, captains and governors
  were
  apprised of this unexpected insult.  Word filtered down to the
  suppressed on Rugarian, Deski, Iginish, Turs and Terran home worlds,
  and
  on the compulsorily colonized planets.  Hope was reborn! Reborn and
  thwarted by the savagery of Eosian frustration which now focused on
  extracting some means of penetrating that barrier from whatever source
  
  forms to find a type of mmortahty by usmg the strong Catteni bodies.
  And still the barrier remained impregnable.
  So the Ix Mentat sent out every available scout, far beyond previously
  explored sectors, to find any trace of those whose advanced technology
  prevented it from achieving the revenge it now craved.
  - ,F
  "Baby slipped through like an eel,' Marrucci said, grinning broadly as
  he wiggled his clasped hands in demonstration.
  "Mind you, Zainal had us at dead-slow and that might be the trick.
  Come charging at it and it bounces you, back as it did the first time we
  nosed around." 'I think we were a little speedier re-entering,' Beverly
  said on consideration.
  "We could have blasted the Eosi orbital.  Baby's armed.  Blown t out of
  the skies as a warning,' Balenquah said, sullen as ever.
  
  me out." 'He is a good pilot,' said Beverly, but without much
  enthusiasm.
  Scott leaned across his desk, gesturing for the other two to do the
  same.  'Is what Balenquah said accurate?  You weren't beyond the Bal-
  loon
  long enough to be seen by the orbital?" Beverly grinned.  'Of course we
  were.  Zainal even booted us past the geo-sync sat.  That was his main
  object in seeing if he could breach the Balloon, to get the exit and
  re-entry noticed."
  "Won't that just make the Eosi madder'n ever?"
  "Frankly, I hope so.  With Farmers protecting us .  .  ." 'Now, wait a
  minute." Scott sat bolt upright.  'What makes Zainal think they will if
  we pull damn-fool stunts like that?" 'If you're on the top of the pile
  by many light years, you don't need to do "species' injury" to maintain
  the position - not with the technology the Farmers have.  But the Eosi
  don't.  That'll piss them off, according to Zainal, and I think he's
  right.  If they keep trying to storm Botany, won't the Farmers object?"
  
  you knew." The?  I certainly didn't suggest it." Scott's frown deepened.
  "That damned Cat!" 'Frankly, Ray, I'd like to know if the Farmers did
  appear to them.  Mind you, I'm comfortable enough here on Botany, but
  there were a lot of things left undone on Earth and I'd expected to have
  a major part in their doing,' Beverly said, giving his head a final nod
  of emphasis.
  "A soldier's first duty is to return to his unit if at all possible?"
  Scott said with a slightly condescending smile.
  "You got it!  As far as I'm concerned,' Beverly folded his hands
  together, 'I'm not stopping until Earth is free of the Eosi.  A lot of
  us here feel the same way, and I suspect more than you'd guess would
  back Zainal in an attempt to get active Farmer support."
  Scott considered that and sighed.  'If we could .  .  ." Then, in an
  altogether different voice and with a rueful smile, he added, 'Not that
  I haven't learned some very valuable lessons here on Botany." 'We all
  have,' Beverly agreed with a wry expression, and he looked down at the
  
  "I told them these were not Eosi but the true owners of the planet, and
  if they tried to leave the valley
  "What would be worse than Eosi?" Scott asked with a snort.
  "What they do not know is always worse,' Zainal said with a shrug. 'They
  will never leave the valley."
  "Had they been trying to?"
  Zainal gave another of his shrugs.  'No.  The Drassi has authority over
  them only on the ship.  They will do nothing." 'You stayed long enough
  outside the Balloon to let both satellites have a good look at you?"
  "As John told you,' Zainal said.
  "Tell me, Zainal,' and Scott made himself lean back, as if totally at
  ease, 'is it wise to aggravate the Eosi this way?  How can we be sure
  the Farmers will protect us if we taunt our enemy?
  We know very little of their philosophy and society, or their
  
  Scott said.
  "Wars have a habit of improving technology,' said Beverly.
  "We should know that better than most, Ray." 'A lot of good our im-
  proved
  technology did us when the Catteni landed,' Scott said with a bitter
  laugh.
  "Did they ever track down the subs?" asked Beverly.
  Scott glared at him, tilting his head at Zainal.
  "Whose side is he on, Ray?" Beverly said.
  "My own,' Zainal said with a grin.  'I go home now." Kris was asleep and
  she roused briefly when she felt him slide under the blankets beside
  her.
  
  idly stroked one chair-arm.
  "I have what?"
  "Planned Phase Three." He grinned at her.  'It is only logical to
  complete what Mitford started.  To get the Farmers to notice us and
  come
  to see what we have done to their world.  That Eosi came is very good.
  We upset their plans, and that has needed doing for many generations."
  "Don't tell me other Catteni have wanted to do away with the Eosi?"
  That
  surprised her.
  "It has been talked of, privately,' he admitted, and the stroking turned
  to a drumming of his fingers.  'I was on Barevi to speak to .  .
  .  a group about a plan." 'You were?  And I ruined all that for you?"
  Kris flushed with chagrin.  'Did you mention that to Chuck?  Or anyone?"
  Zainal shrugged.  'No reason, until now."
  
  were masterminding Catteni activities.  The problem with that was that
  so many Catteni enjoyed far too much what they did to subject races.
  "That would cause trouble if it was known,' Zainal agreed, instantly
  following her thought.  'There is that desert continent.
  No-one goes there." That's true.  And if folks didn't know there were
  Catteni .  .  .
  but you can't keep something like this from the brass-heads, Zainal.
  They trust you now, they wouldn't .  .  ." 'Do not worry.  I respect
  their trust.  I will tell them if I think I can do what I wish now to
  do.  I would need much assistance from Beverly, Scott, Easley, Yowell,
  Bert, Raisha.  We must rescue more from Earth, too." 'The transport
  ship?" She startled Zane and had to comfort him.
  Zainal nodded.  'On board the KDL is much we would need.
  The star maps, the codes .  .  ."
  "Wouldn't the Eosi change codes?  Just in case you get loose?"
  
  "You're planning to infiltrate Earth?" He gave his head a quick shake.
  "Barevi is safer for me.  Many coming and going, and we can find out
  much information from new prisoners.  And "transport" those we need."
  "You, Emassi Zainal, can just walk in and demand the worst of the
  prisoners, and they'll be handed over to you?" Anxiety made her
  sarcastic.  'You with a crew of .  .  ." 'Desk) and Rugarians, and
  friends hidden from Emassi and Drassi eyes."
  "I didn't know Deski and Rugarians crowed for Catteni."
  "They will not be the entire crew, only the ones most seen,' said
  Zainal.  Then he rose, in a smooth graceful movement for such a
  big-boned man, and began to pace.  'We are not transport ship.
  We are from mines at K'daskt Nik Sot Fil,'he said as he paced.
  "We need certain workers, strong, with perhaps some mechanical
  experience.  We get what we need - and certain things Botany needs .  .
  ."
  
  already seen the scout getting in and out?" Zainal chuckled, pausing by
  her chair to stroke her cheek and looking down at the hungry baby.
  "I hope that they have."
  "Yes, but you can't meet them sneaking out the back door, can you?"
  'Bert Put goes up and takes a quick look to see if .  .  . the shore is
  clear?" He lifted his eyebrows in query.
  "Coast is clear .  .  ."
  "Good, and I take Catteni speakers, too." Now he started pacing again,
  rubbing his hands together as he thought out loud.
  "Have you forgotten all Barevi?" he asked in that language.
  Startled, she replied in the Barevi affirmative.  Could she go with him?
  Did she want to go with him?  She certainly didn't want to stay behind.
  But Zane?
  "Chuck would be useful,' she added.  'And Jay Greene .  .  ."
  
  "Sandy has more milk than a cow,' she said, not daring to look at Zainal
  just then.  She added more briskly, 'And this is the sort of situation
  we set up the creche system for, isn't it?" She heard Zainal tap out
  call numbers.  'Chuck?  Are you free to talk over an idea this evening?"
  * * *
  Chuck Mitford immediately said they had to talk this over with the
  brass-heads.
  "Only a few of them, at that,' he added, grinning and rubbing his hands
  together because Zainal had included him as the crew foreman.
  Chuck hadn't even taken that as a slur, because he was indeed the
  build
  and height of many Catteni.  Handsomer than most, however, as Kris
  could
  not resist saying.
  Scott had to be consulted - especially as Chuck wanted him to play
  Catteni, too.  John Beverly, Gino Marrucci, Ninety Doyle, Dowdall; Matt
  
  "I do not have codes for Earth .  .  .  KDL is Barevi-based. I figure
  that we speak with latest transports from Earth .  .  ." 'What about
  stealing another ship with the right codes?" Marrucci wanted to know,
  flexing his fingers as if already settled in a cockpit and about to take
  off.  'I sure would love to get back to good ol' Terra Firma!' Zainal
  grinned.  'That is also a possibility.  If one just happens to be ready
  to fly."
  "You can't leave the crew around .  .  ." Scott began.
  "There are other valleys here,' Zainal said.  'The KDL can get in and
  out of Barevi without difficulty.  That is important.  I know I can get
  supplies that we need with no problem."
  "We get to make a wish list?" Rastancil asked, brightening.
  "No, a "need" list." 'Medical supplies?" Chuck asked hopefully, taking
  his pad and pencil stub from his pocket.
  "If we can find any,' Zainal replied, reminding Mitford that Catteni
  medicine was rudimentary at best.  'Good steel we can get,' he added,
  
  Zainal shook his head.  'You must smell like Catteni, too, and you
  don't." Yuri made a grimace and sighed.  'Wear what you have on voy-
  age,
  then change at Barevi,' Zainal added with a grin.  'Now,' and he took
  out the sheets of the Barevi Spaceport and its environs which he had
  worked on, to show Chuck.  'We must know where to go, and you must
  learn
  what to answer to questions.  If you walk fast as if you know where
  you're going, that you are taking a message, no-one will question. So
  you must knower!" They readily agreed to that but, along with the
  language lessons, came questions, especially from those who had not
  been
  enslaved on Barevi and were unfamiliar with it.  That was where Kris
  came in, because she had flitted all over the city with her owner.
  "Can't we just steal flitters and not walk everywhere?" Dowdall asked.
  "You may rent flitters,' Zainal corrected him.  'We must fit in or be
  noticed.  If we fit in right, we can come back again." 'Hey, I like
  that,' Ninety Doyle said, grinning.  'There're a couple of Tudos .
  
  lier
  drawn an outline.  'We better learn some Catteni symbols, too, you
  know
  .  .  .  to follow hall markings .  .  ." Preparations took ten days,
  with long learning sessions for those who were chosen to take part.  The
  selection was restricted to those whose physical appearance was clos-
  est
  to Catteni, who had already had some knowledge of the language and
  some
  experience with Barevi.  Scott, Marrucci and Yuri did not, but they
  could be paired with those who did like Chuck, Ninety Doyle, Dowdall
  and
  Matt Su.  Coo, Slav and Pess were a bit nervous about going, but they
  would be required to contact their own ethnic groups for what news they
  had.  Kris was an essential addition for her knowledge of the city and
  familiarity with the flitters.  The legs of one Catteni uniform had to
  be lengthened to fit her but, with her hair skinned back with the grey
  mud that would disguise Terran locks and the grey powder make-up,
  she
  passed well enough.  She also knew enough Catten and the Barevian
  lingua
  
  bank to make payments.
  "And we'll be long gone before the reckoning,' Doyle chuckled, rubbing
  his hands together in anticipation.
  "What happens, Zainal,' John Beverly asked one morning during the
  planning sessions, 'if someone recognizes you?" All at the table - and
  Sandy Areson was sitting in that morning to explain about the grey
  'make-up'- turned towards him.
  "I am dead,' Zainal said, shrugging off that consideration.
  "No-one will expect to see me, especially in Drassi uniform,' he added.
  Sandy tilted her head and then, rising and reaching across the table,
  turned him by the chin from one profile to the other.
  "No problem,' she said.  'We add cheek pads so he looks fatter, another
  in front and some lines down his face to make him look older and his
  own
  mother wouldn't recognize him."
  
  "You won't know him either.  Trust me." When she demonstrated to Kris
  and Zainal later that evening, it was remarkable the change those few
  alterations made.
  "I'd slump were I you,' Sandy remarked.  'Drassi are small men and
  don't
  walk proud like an Emassi, you know." Zainal grinned as he thanked
  her,
  a grin that was substantially altered from his normal one with the pads
  in place.
  "Take them out,' Kris said when Sandy had left.  'I'm not sharing this
  cabin with a total stranger.  A very unattractive total stranger, I
  might add." And she gave a shudder of dismay until he had removed the
  pads and looked himself again.
  The arrival of the Ix Mentat and its two juniors at the Catteni
  .
  ù:
  
  Mentats on Catten, but seemed no further towards solving the tides of
  revolt and producing the wealth available from the planet than he had
  been in the first months of occupation.
  When High Emassi Bulent learned the sort of equipment the Mentats
  had
  brought with them, he turned ashen, until he also heard that the
  mind-probes were to be used on humans, not ineffective Emassis.
  Therefore he listened intently to the Ix Mentat's wishes, organized the
  search and rounded up as many of the required subjects as could be
  found.  Some could be proven dead; others might well have been al-
  ready
  transported, since they had resided in the fifty cities originally
  depopulated in the first wave of Catteni suppressions.
  Bulent could almost feel sorry for the men and women rounded up and
  crammed into the open slave-pens, for the summer heat was intense,
  though he himself revelled in such temperatures.  There were casualties
  from the heat and the crowding.  He had the unenviable task of
  explaining to the Ix Mentat that humans could not endure the solar rays
  
  The Ix, Co and Se made trial examinations on lesser-known individuals
  with varying results.  After four deaths with little information
  retrieved from the bursting brains, the instrument had to be
  re-calibrated.  It had originally been used to upgrade Catteni mentality
  by expanding cerebral and cortical areas and stimulating certain centres
  in both lobes.  The result had been the intelligent Emassi subset of
  Catteni who had originally been primitive and little more than upright
  animals.  But what could be enhanced could also be withdrawn; that
  was
  the purpose of using the equipment on the humans.
  The actual examination could take up to half a day, if the initial
  information plucked from the more accessible areas of the mind looked
  interesting.  That is, if the subject was worth treating carefully.
  Otherwise an hour's viewing would suffice, but the subject rarely
  recovered much personality and memory.
  Incontinence was a frequent problem, and some retained insufficient
  intelligence to feed themselves.  These were quietly disposed of.
  
  Among its victims were the remaining heads of state who had not met
  with
  either transportation or execution, revealing the names of more
  important officials whose brains were full of sometimes amusing if petty
  details.  Some investigations were more fruitful, leading the Mentats to
  find out what particular scientific studies were in progress and where.
  This was what the Ix had been searching for and it gave the High
  Emassi
  a inst.
  The High Emassi Bulent sent his minions scurrying to find
  .,
  these people.  Often they returned empty-handed, with stories that the
  named persons had died or had possibly been transported, but certainly
  could not be found.  Several of these, the Ix decided, must be found
  unless proof of death could be established beyond doubt.  So Bulent
  despatched his best people, including several of the renegade humans,
  with instructions and promises of titillating rewards for success, to
  
  loaded on transports and sent to Batevi, to be sold as slaves for
  whatever use could be found for the near-mindless.
  Then the Ix closed itself in its vessel and began to sift carefully
  through all it had learned, in the hope that perhaps there might be even
  one theory that would spark its high mentality towards a viable line of
  research.
  On the off-chance that they could hijack another ship, Bert Put and
  Balenquah would come along as auxiliary pilots.  It fell to Raisha,
  then, to pilot the scout to the Balloon and see if the coast was clear.
  Beverly and Marrucci had plotted the next five windows available that
  would avoid the orbital satellite, so it only remained to check on the
  absence of any Catteni ships in the general area.
  Kris found it both hard and easy to leave Zane in Sandy's charge.
  She had been able to partially wean him, and he was already eating
  pureed foods.  But Sandy promised that she would not stint him, and
  Kris
  
  _ b
  particular as Kris started to hand him over to Sandy.  He was awake and
  in one of his giggling moods, the kind that are hard to ignore.  'Here,
  give him to me,' he said and gave Kris no chance to refuse.
  Being the adaptable personality he was, Zane had no problems with
  being
  passed around and gurgled up at Pete Easley as happily as he would
  have
  done at Zainal.
  Kris, watching the transfer, suddenly realized that Pete was telling her
  he intended to watch out for his natural son during her absence.  His
  proprietorialness was both welcome and disturbing.  But should the
  unthinkable happen, Kris knew that Pete Easley would assume
  responsibility for Zane - and, she had to admit, he had a right.
  With a cheery wave at him and a farewell hug and kiss for Sandy, Kris
  left the creche, her conflicting emotions gradually easing as she
  
  He wasn't the only one to expel a gust of relief that the manoeuvre was
  unrestricted and the KDL allowed to exit.  Then he aimed the ship
  towards the nearest of the five moons and, using that to hide his
  trajectory surveillance, made all speed to that point.  Once there, he
  plotted the course out of the system and to Barevi's.
  Even at the speed the KDL was capable of making, the Journey would
  take
  three weeks.  So there was more time in which to perfect their Catteni
  roles, and automatically respond to orders and queries.
  The meagre library of the KDL did contain spaceport plans for those
  planets under Catteni domination, and these were enlarged for study,
  especially by Bert and Balenquah if the chance of a second hijack
  l
  was feasible.  Scott was not yet committed to that objective.
  "He wants a warship,' Mitford confided to Zainal and Kris.
  
  "Who was it said "think big"?"
  "Dick Aarens?" Kris suggested.
  There were also maps of Barevi which augmented the memories of
  those who
  had spent time in it - and how much a flitter should cost to such and
  such a destination.  How to argue with cheaters, how to act if accosted
  for a fight .  .  .
  "Catteni always fight,' Zainal said.  'Work off anger that way.
  Avoid at all costs." 'Hey, it's easy enough to topple a Catteni,' Yuri
  said, proceeding to demonstrate a jujitsu manoeuvre on the unsuspect-
  ing
  Zainal.  One moment the Emassi was on his feet, the next flat on his
  back on the deck, looking both surprised and annoyed.
  When Yuri offered him a hand up, he ignored it, but he was smiling
  when
  he got back on his feet.
  
  "As if the Farmers would know or care,' scoffed Balenquah.
  "We will know and we will care that harm has been done,' said Zainal,
  making his position plain to the surly pilot.
  "You're a fine one to talk,' Sev Balenquah replied at his most
  contentious.
  "I am finer than you know,' was Zainal's retort.
  At this point Mitford, who was sitting next to the man, jabbed him so
  roughly in the ribs that he was winded.
  "There's a brig on this ship,' Beverly said.  'D'you want to spend the
  rest of the trip in it?"
  "Have it your way,' Balenquah said and, pushing away from the table,
  stalked off.
  When Beverly would have called him back, Scott shook his head.
  
  hospital.  But the remaining one was adequate for the journey since
  Zainal expected to restock perishable goods from the markets at Barevi.
  Surprisingly enough, the Catteni galley had the equivalent of a
  microwave heating device, so that the prepackaged soups, bread and
  meals
  that the mess hall had contributed to the Mission could be reheated.
  By the time the first contact was made with Barevian planetary
  authority, they had each perfected their skills to the best of their
  abilities.  Even Balenquah could spit out appropriate answers; despite
  his more glaring personality defects, he was a natural linguist and
  Zainal hoped to use him to accompany Kris on her buying missions.
  "He glowers just like my old boss,' Kris said, 'typical nasty Tudo.
  Whoops, not Tudo, Foto,' she said, correcting herself.
  She had known 'Foto' before she was aware of the distinction between
  Emassi and Drassi.
  When hailed by the Barevian perimeter guards, Zainal, posing as Drassi
  
  He elected to overfly the town to give everyone the aerial aspect of it
  and help orientate them, giving a description
  of each area on his way to their appointed docking facility.
  Matt Su was the putative navigator and Yuri the engineer.
  They both had immediate work to do, checking in with the port
  authorities: Matt to handle the 'paper work' and show the log which
  Zainal had created for them, while Yuri organized refuelling, watering
  and the usual docking procedures.  Zainal paced about the dock area to
  be sure they encountered no immediate difficulties, while the various
  teams disembarked for their assignments.
  Coo and Slav went off first, pretending pathetic eagerness to be away
  from the Drassi, while Pess stayed on board with Matt, Bert and Beverly
  - the latter two not to be seen.  Pess and Matt had basic Barevi and
  some Catteni, so they were the best ones to stay behind and prevent
  unauthorized entry.  Ninety and Dowdall would see if there were any
  humarts in the slave markets.  Zainal, Mitford and Scott would go into
  
  'plursaw' additive the Deski needed.
  The original shipment was running low and there were new Deski ba-
  bies in
  need of it.  Zainal had made up a shopping list for them to display, as
  most Tudo couldn't read or write more than their own names, and
  signed
  it 'Drassi Kubitai'.  He also made her practice the glyph for 'Kubitai'
  in case she had to sign chits for orders.
  Kris was scared to the nails on her toes in the heavy Catteni boots.
  They were a bit large for her, although that only made her plod in a
  more authentic Catteni gait.  She'd probably get heel blisters in spite
  of fluff-padding the toes, but she marched as smartly as the others did
  out of their berth and onto the main dock staging area.
  There were a few Catteni lounging about, watching Rugarians and
  Deski
  shift crates, load and unload material at other berths.  The ship,
  berthed three places beyond the KDI, looked like another of her class,
  still so new she had
  
  They saw no Terrans at all once they were out of the main facility and
  looking about for flitters.  Zainal had said there were always a few
  waiting for possible passengers.  They approached the first, its driver
  a wizened old Catteni whose face was badly scarred.
  Balenquah gave the orders, as sullen as a Catteni, and shoved every-
  one
  on board, his fingers lingering a little too long on Kris's hip as he
  did so, grumbling about wanting to get this duty over with.  He squeezed
  himself next to Kris on the hard wide seat, his thigh pressing against
  hers in a way that made her want to prang him good.  She could do
  nothing now but sit there and endure his attentions.  Had the man no
  wits about him at all?  Didn't he know she'd never let him get away with
  such nonsense?  Wait till they got back to the KDL .  .  .  no, KDI, she
  must keep that alteration firmly in mind.  With the manoeuvres of the
  flitter in and out of traffic, Balenquah must be enjoying the ride,
  rubbing constantly against her leg.  Marrucci caught her eyes once and
  gave her a look that meant he had not missed Balenquah's ploy.
  Then they were over the open market area, their driver skilfully
  avoiding ascending arrogant flitters in the fashion that had always
  
  "Who?  Me?"
  Marrucci prodded his back, telling him in Catteni to talk right, then
  asked Kris, also in the language, which direction to take.
  "Here is food market for Deski additives.  We buy enough they deliver."
  "We buy plenty,' Marrucci said.  'Where?"
  Kris had been looking around and spotted a crowd of Deski.
  "There!" 'Deskis!  Huh!" and Kris wasn't sure if Balenquah was acting m
  character or just being his charming self.
  On their way, they passed a booth selling the alcoholic beverages only
  Catteni could stomach, but Balenquah insisted on stopping to sample
  one,
  saying he was thirsty.
  "Not good,' Kris said, frowning because that was the best way to prove
  to Balenquah that he should try one.  All were swill, but let him find
  
  portion; he should have watched another Catteni, who was sipping
  cautiously.  As the raw liquid began to burn down his throat, his eyes
  bulged and his greyed skin turned red enough to startle her, but some-
  how
  he got most of it down.
  "Told you not good,' Kris said, deepening her voice.  'Better over
  there!" And she pointed to the corner where her master used to take a
  drink on market days.  She left Balenquah to recover from the pilth -
  ah, she remembered the name of that particular poison - and strode on
  towards the Deski.  She was also keeping on the alert for any bands of
  Catteni, swaggering around the market area just looking for trouble.
  Marrucci waited with Balenquah while Yuri moved out in step beside
  her.
  "Good on you,' he muttered in English and she elbowed him.
  "Agreed,' he added in Catteni.
  They could both hear Balenquah hawking and spitting behind them, and
  gasping as his system tried to cope with the Catteni equivalent of
  
  to the
  Catteni, so she was to get enough vinegar for pickling.  These were
  easy, since she'd dealt with kitchen supplies and knew where to find
  them.  At the same stall, she was astonished to discover what looked
  like rolls of cinnamon bark in a sack and a keg of nutmegs: the spicy
  scent of them was so familiar.  She lifted a piece of curled brown bark
  high enough to her nose to be sure that it was indeed cinnamon -
  though
  what it was doing on Barevi was beyond her.
  Then, in the gravelly voice she affected for Catteni words, she asked,
  'What's this?" of the stall-keeper, dropping the bark curl indolently
  back into the bag and brushing her hand off on her uniform as any
  Catteni would.
  She understood only half of what he said, catching that it was from
  Terra and used in cooking; she should try some.  She pretended
  indecision until Marrucci tapped her shoulder and came to her rescue.
  "Drassi Kubitai likes new things.  Try it."
  
  lem
  getting him to deliver to the KDI and could barely contain her delight
  in finding the seasonings; the mess hall would bless her for ever.  She
  also got gallons of vinegar of a good quality.
  In the next rectangle over, Kris found fabrics of all kinds, colours,
  patterns and materials, some of which she recognized as Terran
  manufacture which both pleased and upset her.  The Catteni must be
  looting the Earth right, left and centre.  She suppressed resentment and
  went about bidding for whole bolts, in different shades and weights, for
  children's clothes.  The local weaving industry would suffice any
  females who wanted something to wear that wasn't made over from
  Catteni
  coveralls, but the kids' needs were different.  Kris bought enough to
  make the shopkeeper ask if she was a trader.
  "Drassi is,' she said as if she thoroughly disapproved, pointing with no
  real attention to what she was buying.  The last shop also sold needles,
  and indifferently she threw a handful of packets on the counter and
  made
  the shop-owner scrawl a receipt for her.
  
  "I told you no good,' she said and took a goru peafrom the display pile.
  She turned her head slightly so the stall-keeper would not see that she
  did not have Catteni-size teeth as she tore off the tough peel as any
  good Catteni soldier would do and spat it out on the street.  One thing
  for sure, she never thought she'd be eating these lovely winey fruits
  again.  My, she'd come a long distance from that forest.  She pointed to
  a net of the pears, asking the price.
  "Four,' she said and then began haggling for a discount, just like in
  the old days.  She got them at a good price - enough for everyone to
  enjoy on the way back to Botany - and tied the nets together and slung
  them over one shoulder.  Yuri and Marrucci were watching her. "Tell you
  later,' she said in Catten.  'This way." They went through another
  arcade, doors open to display the wares of the more permanently sited
  merchants, to where she thought she'd find ironmongery.  The mess hall
  had also asked for some big stewing pots and cooking sheets.  That sort
  of thing would be there and, sure enough, she acquired five
  cauldronsized kettles and some huge baking tins.  She also saw other
  items that were definitely Terran in origin, like the fabrics. If there
  
  So she wanted to get away from the area before the guards arrived.
  Knives of the fine size and shapes Leon Dane had wanted were indeed
  available in one of the arcade stores, but at a price higher than Zainal
  had estimated.  She bought what they had funds for bundles of scalpels,
  lancers and the retractors, small-headed hammers and surgical saws.  It
  looked from the display as if Earth hospitals had been thoroughly
  looted.  Still, she bargained so hard that the trader wanted to know why
  she needed such Terran things.
  "Terran?  What's that?" and she pretended to try to find the name on the
  scalpel's handle.
  "Where you been?"
  "There and back,' she said with an indifferent shrug.
  "Make it fast,' Marrucci said in an irritable tone and jerked his head
  over his shoulder at a gang of Catteni entering the rectangle at the far
  end, six abreast and brushing past everyone and everything in their
  way.
  
  "What takes you so long, Foto?" she snapped at the storekeeper who
  was
  making quite a job of packing the tools, but then the blades were very
  sharp.
  Marrucci did get Balenquah out of the way: thanks to the pilth, he was
  in no condition to argue much.  Kris had just got her hands on the
  packet from the shopkeeper when Yuri was bowled into her, knocking
  her
  into the shop-keeper's cabinet, causing half his stock to tumble about
  and several pieces - since the cabinet was open on his side - to stick
  into him.  He was howling with pain and rage as he plucked sharp ob-
  jects
  from his thighs.
  Yuri reacted, ducking under the first swing of a squat Catteni guard and
  then kicking out at the assailant's knee-caps with a double strike that
  had the guard howling with pain and dropping to the ground.
  The shop-keeper shouted for help and grabbed at Kris, almost tearing
  the
  
  penetrated his backside, but she didn't stop.
  "Out of here,' she yelled in good Catteni, fright thickening her voice
  as she grabbed at Yuri's uniform just as he flipped another Catteni to
  his back.
  Several of his mates, reacting to his groans and curses, started after
  them, but Catteni are not good runners and Yuri and Kris had very good
  reasons to run as fast as they could.  They nearly ran over Marrucci who
  had come back for them, and so they all made tracks to the flitter where
  Balenquah slumped, victim of the pilth.
  However, the state of him - or rather the smell that emanated from him -
  added to the bruised goru pears that had split open in the nets Kris had
  been carrying over her shoulder - made the flitter-driver waste no time
  in getting them back to the dock.
  When they arrived, the merchandise had too, with Pess, a cloth bolt in
  each arm, dealing with the loading.
  "Did the plursaw come?" Kris asked, racing up the extruded gangway.
  
  l
  l l 'We the first?" she asked Pess as she helped him stow the cloth
  away, making sure that the needles had been included.
  Pess nodded.  'What's wrong with pilot?"
  "He drank Filth,' she replied, then grinned as she added, 'I told him it
  was no good." Pess smiled broadly and she managed to look away from
  that
  yawning cavern of greenish gum without giving him offence.
  Beverly and Bert Put came out of hiding and, though they seemed
  somewhat
  distracted, listened to their adventures, chuckling over Balenquah's
  mishap.  They approved her purchases, especially the spices, salt,
  vinegar and pepper.
  "We had to quit because there was a roving band of Catteni looking for
  trouble,' Yuri said.  'We'll go for the electronics tomorrow,' he added,
  looking at Kris for confirmation.
  
  "Zainal reported in when he and Mitford reached the restaurant.
  So did Coo and Slav,' Beverly told them.  'But they had upsetting news."
  "How upsetting?"
  Beverly and Bert exchanged anxious glances.
  "It's not going to get any better waiting,' Kris reminded them, but a
  sick feeling started in her stomach.
  "There are large numbers of Terrans here now, waiting to be shipped
  out."
  A pause.
  "What's new in that?" she asked.
  "Coo says they're damaged,' and Beverly tapped his skull.
  
  "The Eosi have mind-wipes?" she whispered, appalled.
  "Does Zainal know?" Marrucci asked, equally shocked.
  "Coo says everyone talks about it - quietly.  Even the Catteni.
  Zainal will also hear." Marrucci swore inventively and without repeating
  himself.
  Yuri looked pale under his grey face-paint; it was cracking around the
  natural creases of his face and, absently, she reminded herself to tell
  him to powder up before he went outside
  again.
  "Zainal won't do anything drastic until he can check with you, will he?"
  Kris asked Beverly.  'WHAT do the Eosi intend to get out of minds?
  They
  wouldn't know about us."
  
  "When was there ever a war without casualties?" Yuri said in a bleak
  voice, absently doodling with the water spill on the table until it was
  spread out in a Rorschach blob.
  "What about Ninety and Dowdall?"
  "They say the pens are full of humans.  They also heard about the
  zombies,' Beverly said.  'They're on their way back, too, before the
  guard changes." 'Dowdall remembered that, did he?" Kris said, nodding
  with satisfaction.
  Zainal, Scott and Mitford returned in a silence that spoke more
  profoundly of the tragedy than words.  The first thing Zainal did was
  remove the cheek and chin pads that disguised him.
  "We managed to get into one compound,' Scott said, slumping in a chair
  and taking the glass of hooch that Kris immediately poured for all
  three.  'I recognized a few faces from articles and
  newspapers.  You'd probably recognize more, John, Gino.  The ones I
  
  "Will they .  .  .  recover?" Kris asked.
  Zainal shook his head but added, 'It depends how long they were
  subjected to the probe.  The Eosi have little pity." 'Other news is
  good, though,' Scott said, shaking off that dispiriting vision. "Earth
  continues to rebel, and Catteni are looting on a massive scale." "I
  wondered about that,' Kris said.  'I bought nutmeg, cinnamon, pepper,
  salt, bolts of Earth-made fabric and needles, surgical equipment: no
  doubt part of that loot.  I hadn't enough money with me to buy
  everything Leon said he needed.  Do we have more to spend?" she
  asked
  Zainal, who nodded.
  "No electronics?" Scott asked, perturbed.  'We need them more than
  surgical tools." 'If the Catteni have looted as thoroughly as it looks
  like they have, we'll find all the Terran electronics we could possibly
  want.  But we encountered an off-duty squad,' Kris said and Zainal
  grunted.  'And left." 'We did, too,' Dowdall said. "The spaceport's
  full.  We were lucky to get a berth."
  "Any damage?" Zainal asked.
  
  Zainal roared with laughter.
  "I told him it was no good,' Kris said, still grinning as Yuri and
  Marrucci chuckled.
  "Serves him right, too,' said Marrucci, but Kris gave him a look and he
  didn't elaborate.
  "Did you get the Deski plursaw?" Zainal asked.
  She nodded.  'At a good price, too.  I got as much delivered as I could;
  Pess has most of it already stored away.  "Drassi says",' and she
  grinned at him for the efficacy of that cryptic explanation.
  Coo and Slav returned then, Slav with a cut over one eye and Coo with
  visible abrasions down one side of his slender frame.
  "Trouble?" Zainal asked, on his feet.
  Coo held up one hand reassuringly.  'Catteni gang.  Hate aliens." 'They
  hate anyone,' Dowdall said forcefully.  'Here, femme fix that cut for
  
  "They're after your people, too?" Scott asked.
  Coo shook his head.  'We do not make machines." 'My people must
  work in
  noisy places,' Slav said, scrubbing his chest hair in agitation.  'We
  are strong." 'You Earth no good working,' Coo said, grinning. "Too much
  trouble." 'We make trouble,' Slav said, 'if word is given." And he
  looked pointedly at Mitford.
  "All suppressed minorities rebelling at one time would be difficult for
  the Eosi to handle,' Scott said, immediately savouring the notion.
  Zainal, however, snorted and shook his head.  'More species'
  .  .  ù .
  nurles.
  Scott slammed one fist onto the table so hard that the hooch bottle
  jiggled.  'Damn it, Zainal, there're already species' injuries on my
  
  felt for the victims and agreed with Scott.
  "When they find none they can use, they will stop." 'When .  . ."
  demanded Scott, stretching the in' out to stress the urgency, 'will that
  be?" 'I heard nothing today.  Tomorrow we can go elsewhere and listen,
  and maybe ask." 'And all those .  .  . those desecrated people?" Scott
  asked, grieving so keenly that Kris saw tears in the admiral's eyes.
  "We can do something about that,' Zainal said firmly.  Then he turned to
  Kris and Marrucci.  'Tomorrow, early, get the wire the plastic, the
  electronic supplies needed.  Be ready to move if I arrange .  .  ."
  'What are you arranging?" Mitford asked, though the look on his face
  suggested to Kris that he already had a suspicion.
  "What can be done to help.  The Farmers do not like,' and Zainal
  emphasized that word, 'species' injuries.  We show them what can
  happen." 'We'll bring them back with us?" Scott began, his expression
  brightening for a scant second before common sense overruled that
  possibility.  'How can we possibly care for so many damaged people?"
  'We
  will somehow." Kris spoke so fiercely that Scott recoiled.
  
  Even the two Deski and Slav were in accord.
  "Zainal, did you notice the other ship of this class a few berths down
  from us?" Marrucci asked, his eyes sparkling.
  Bert Put, who had been silent through most of the discussion, sat up
  with an expectant look on his face, watching Zainal.
  He nodded, a grin turning his mouth up in one corner.  'I maybe go see
  guard tonight, drink a little Filth." 'No,' Mitford said with an evil
  grin, 'he'd be used to that.  Take some of the hooch." The next morning
  as they breakfasted, Zainal had good news from his evening's interview.
  Most of the KDM's crew were on shore leave, having just completed a
  wide
  swing which had included Earth.  In fact, they had brought two decks
  full of the brain-wiped humans to the slave marts, and loot that would
  soon be available in the Barevi markets. Only two crewmen were on
  board,
  taking turns on watch; they were not happy about that duty but expected
  to be relieved in another two days.  As was standard practice with
  
  'Not even information.  They may even be pulling out."
  "What?"
  "Leaving Earth?"
  "Hurrah, we socked it to them and they couldn't take it."
  "No rush,' Zainal said, raising his hands to indicate caution.
  "Your Earth may never be the same." 'Then we improve it when we get
  back
  home,' Beverly said, a fierce expression on his face.
  Zainal pointedly said nothing.  'I also learn that the port manager is
  very busy with so many ships going in and out." 'Which means he's not
  checking on individual ones?" Beverly asked.
  Zainal nodded.  'We come at a lucky time."
  "Let's leave lucky, too,' Mitford said gruffly.  'If we get all the
  
  "Sooner is better than later, but first,' and he held up one finger 'we
  do not go back empty." 'Hey, if there's only two crewmen aboard the
  KDM,
  couldn't we hijack it?" asked Gino eagerly.
  Mitford made a disgusted sound, dismissing the notion, but Scott leaned
  forward eagerly.  'Could we?" 'I think it would be very easy.
  Gino can be captain Balenquah .  .  ." and Zainal looked around for the
  man.
  "He was sick all night,' Mitford said sourly.  'He's no use to us at
  all.  I never did have more than a sip of pilth'and that was enough to
  make me avoid it." 'I told him it was no good,' Kris repeated, with an
  innocent expression on her face.
  "Which made him all the more eager to try it, huh9' Mitford asked,
  giving her a dirty look.
  "He deserved it .  .  ." Gino Marrucci began, but Kris kicked him under
  the table.  'Sullen bastard that he is,' the pilot said, in place of
  
  glance, but everywhere I looked I could see things that had to have
  come
  from home." 'Good,' said Matt, 'that means we'll have a good chance of
  finding what we need.  We've done as much as we can with the Farm-
  ers'
  material.  But we could do a helluva lot more with familiar components,
  couldn't we, Dowdall?" 'Also get more hand-units,' and Zainal tapped his
  Catteni comunit.  'We need all we can get, or make." Kris shoved pencil
  and the thin plastic that the Catteni used for notes towards him.  'Make
  us out another shopping list, Drassi Kubitai!" Zainal grimaced.  'I do
  not know the Catteni shapes,' he admitted wryly.
  "No word for spare parts in Catten?" Matt asked, grinning.
  "Ah, yes,' and Zainal deftly created the glyph, adding tails and
  squiggles to it.  'That means anything to repair electronics." He peered
  at it.  'I think." 'Have we completely contaminated an upright Catteni
  lad?" Matt asked with one of his displays of whimsy.
  "Absolutely,' Zainal agreed heartily.  'Let us make .  .  . con .
  
  take the problems with us,' Zainal said.  'I call in to Chuck, I tell
  him where to bring KDM.  Then, sergeant, you will take more hooch to
  guard on duty.  The other will be sleeping.  You will know what to do.
  Then Gino, Beverly, Coo, Pess and Slav get aboard as crew.  Bert,
  Gino,
  be ready to bring the ships where I tell you." He flipped through the
  pile of maps and charts and found the one he wanted.  'Here are slave
  pens, but you must go round the city, not overfly." 'Don't we have to
  clear take-offwith the port authority?" Gino asked.
  Zainal slapped his forehead and sucked in breath between his teeth.
  "After we secure the KDM, I can come back and do that, Zainal,' Mitford
  said.  'Give me the words for slave compound in Catten. I only know
  Barevi." 'Use Barevi if you need to,' Zainal said, rocking one hand to
  indicate that the port authorities would know both. Then he rose in a
  decisive manner.  'Good luck." And he gave the thumbsup signal, grin-
  ning
  when his eyes fell on Kris.
  
  * * *
  Kris, with Dowdall, Matt and Ninety, got the last remaining flitter
  outside the port.  The driver grumbled that the market wasn't open yet.
  "Shop I go is,' Kris answered in Barevi.  'Drassi says so."
  That ended any further enquiries from the Catteni.  He had no left hand,
  a hook attachment replacing it, but a flitter was easily driven with
  only one.  Did only disabled Catteni get taxi licences on Barevi?
  As the craft made its way to the market area, they all noticed smoke
  rising from various places.
  "Many fights?" Ninety asked in Barevi, grinning but remembering to
  keep
  his lips over his teeth.
  "Many,' replied the Catteni in his own language and in a sour tone.
  'Nine ship gangs.  Biggest fights in weeks." Which meant the survivors
  would likely be sleeping off pilth as well as any injuries from the
  
  As they crossed over the line of apartments separating the two, she saw
  that streamers of fabric, probably from some of the shops she had
  visited, festooned the area.
  "Boys had lots of fun,' Ninety muttered and got Kris's elbow in his ribs
  for speaking in English.  He rolled his eyes in apology, but the driver
  had not heard.
  There was not quite as much damage in the third rectangle, the one
  they
  had directed the flitter to - possibly because there were fewer drink
  and food stands in this one.  But one section seemed to have been
  levelled.  Kris just hoped it wasn't the very one they needed the most.
  "Another ticco if you wait,' she told the driver in her gravelly Catteni
  voice.  She was getting so she could do it whenever she needed to,
  though her throat was a trifle sore from all the roughvoiced bargaining
  she'd done yesterday.
  "Just one ticco?" he complained.
  
  indigestible bread Catteni baked.
  That sweetened him sufficiently and she walked off with the others to
  find the 'spare parts'.
  Four shops which displayed boxes spilling loose chips in their grilled
  windows were not open.  They came upon a fifth on the long end of the
  rectangular market area where the shop-keeper was sweeping up
  components, 'and', 'or' chips, with total disregard for the damage done.
  Matt and Dowdall winced and Kris hissed at them for falling out of
  character.
  "You selling?" she asked, acting the stupid Catteni Tudo.
  "What does it look like?" the shop-keeper replied angrily, gesturing at
  the havoc within and without.  He ranted on, switching from Barevi to
  Catteni in his fury.
  Kris held up Zainal's glyphed note.  'You got some?"
  
  "Got everything needed for repair.  And then some .  .  .  if it hasn't
  all been smashed." He put down the broom and led them through the
  shop,
  palmed open a rear door and showed them unopened cardboard boxes,
  all
  bar-coded and listing the contents in English, French, German and ei-
  ther
  Japanese or Chinese .  .  .  Kris couldn't tell the difference.
  "Ah, many unhurt,' she cried.  'Drassi wants."
  "All?" The shop-keeper was both delighted and suspicious.
  "Drassi Kubitai trades,' said Dowdall, winking as he began removing
  boxes from the shelves and stacking them in the centre.  His eyes were
  so alight with success that Kris yanked furiously at her own cap to warn
  him.  'Kubitai pleased with us,' he said in Barevi, turning his face
  away.
  "Not all, but samples to show.  How much?" Kris began, tapping the
  boxes
  
  glyph.  'Here, stupid,' he said, his yellow eyes turning crafty as he
  suspected he might be able to do her on the prices.
  "I count well,' she said, jerking her cap to shade her eyes but looking
  fiercely at him.  'I be Drassi soon.  You see." 'Ha!" was his reply, but
  he began to move the chosen boxes towards the front of the shop.  'You
  got transport?"
  "Flitter,' she said.  'I call it over."
  She had to fetch the flitter driver, who had indeed been treating
  himself to a meal on her coin.  When he saw how much was stacked out
  in
  litter in front of the smashed shop, he shook his head.
  "Call another,' she told him, pointing to his control panel.
  "Drassi Kubitai very happy with us.  We get long shore leave." She
  strutted back to the shop to find Dowdall, looking anxious.
  
  'Work!  No work, no leave!" However, greed - and possibly the call to
  the dock to verify that a KDI with a Drassi Kubitai was in port - moved
  the shopkeeper to encourage the large order.
  Kris bargained in earnest with him, as part of her character as
  not-so-stupid-Tudo messenger.  She had no idea what the parts would
  have
  cost on Earth, but Matt was slightly agog at the range of the
  merchandise.  There were even laptops still in their packing-cases.
  Now what possible use would the Catteni have for such items?  They
  couldn't even read the manuals, much less
  , A --r
  figure out what the icons meant.  She'd had enough trouble with her 286
  IBM clone at college.  Noticing a dozen units along with all the other
  parts, plus tool-kits and several cases of flopp'P arm she wouldn't have
  to explain why those were among her purchases.  She only knew so
  much
  Catteni and Barevi.
  
  one.
  All the way across the city, Kris forced herself to cheerful thoughts,
  terrified that something might happen and they'd be caught by an army
  trap or port patrol or some other unexpected glitch.  But they made it
  safely back to the berth, and started unloading.  Mitford, Gino, Slav,
  Coo and Pess hurried out to speed the process along, Gino whistling
  under his breath at the range of their purchases.
  "Catteni can't whistle,' Kris said inside the safety of the ship.
  "Ooops!'
  "Any word from Zainal?"
  Gino shook his head, trotting back down the ramp, muttering
  unintelligible noises that could be muffled Catteni curses and adding,
  "Drassi says,' in a grumpy tone.
  They had nearly finished the unloading when Balenquah staggered into
  the
  
  Taking her cue from Mitford's remark, she shook her head, feeling quite
  ill suddenly too.
  "Very sick.  Terran sick,' she said, still shaking her head and making
  her wobbly legs carry her back down the ramp.  There were only a few
  more boxes to be stored.
  "Dockmaster knows?" the one-handed Catteni asked, his murky yellow
  eyes
  suspicious.
  "Dockmaster says keep him on board and take him back to Terra,' Mit-
  ford
  said, keeping his face away from the Catteni.
  "Leave him there." 'Drassi say we leave today,' Kris added for good
  measure.  'I take shore leave back here!  Told Bal no good there." She
  gave the drivers just enough to satisfy them, not too meagre a sum to
  annoy them yet not enough to be considered a possible bribe.
  
  "We tied him in,' Dowdall said, 'goddamn stinking arrogant bastard
  nearly blew the whistle on us!" 'He might still have,' Mitford said,
  holding out his hand for the bottle.  'I'm not sure the one-handed guy
  bought the explanation." 'Yeah, but why would he suspect Catteni-
  dressed
  soldiers to be anything but Catteni?" Kris said, reaching for
  reassurance.
  "There is that,' Mitford agreed.
  "Is it safe?" whispered Beverly and Bert Put from their compartment.
  "For now,' Kris told them, sitting down because her legs had never felt
  so kneeless.  She buried her head in her hands.  'I never want to go
  through another moment like that." An urgent buzz from the com board
  on
  the bridge startled all of them.  Beverly and Mitford tried to get
  through the door at the same time, with the sergeant twisting his torso
  edgewise to allow the general through first.
  
  God's sake?  Oh." He had grabbed up a pad which Mitford now held
  firmly
  for him since he had the hand unit.  'Thick upright, two cross bars,
  three down strokes and a small right-hand square within the end two
  right-hand down strokes.  Got that.  That's for the KDI?" Beverly began
  to smile and heaved a sigh of relief that seemed to permeate his whole
  frame.  'Thank God,' he whispered.  'Okay, so there's just a change in
  the final figure, a circle rather than a square between the two
  right-hand down strokes?  Got it.  Be there as fast as we can get
  permission to quit the dock.  Watch for us."
  He toggled the line closed.
  "Contingency plan is now in operation.  Mitford, grab another bottle of
  hooch and go visiting.  Gino, Coo, Slav, Pess, Ninety, lounge outside
  like you're bored.  We're going to rescue us some folks.  And God grant
  there's some spark of mind left to them.
  We're clearing the prisons." 'I know how to work the levels,' Kris said
  and grabbed Ninety by the hand.  'I'd better show you.  Let's hope
  they're the same as the wreck's." The controls were sited in the same
  
  comunit from her belt at him.
  What now?  That glitch she had been expecting all along that was going
  to betray them?  She fretted, knees getting wobbly again.
  "Sick?" Mitford exclaimed in Catteni, and swore with unexpected fluency
  in the language for emphasis.  'Yes, Terran sick." He sounded dis-
  gusted.
  'We dump him with others.  They not see,' and he managed a very evil
  chuckle.  'Kotik.  Ten." He whistled when he closed the switch.  'That
  driver was suspicious.  Let's get out of here before anyone comes to
  look at our Terran-sick soldier.  Take her no higher than a thousand
  pleas, Bert.  That's our assigned level." He gave Kris a good-luck sign
  and, grabbing another bottle of hooch, leaving only two left for the
  journey home, he sauntered back to the recently hijacked vessel.
  Bert initiated the undocking procedures, starting thee siren to warn the
  crew back inside, closing the hatch when they reported all in, starting
  the engines, just as if he'd done it all his professional life.  The KDI
  lifted easily, Bert made the course correction and they could see the
  spaceport steadily receding.
  
  pillaged Earth.
  Flitters darted in and around, and each one that seemed to choose a
  trajectory in front of Kris made her catch her breath.
  "They can't see in,' Bert said, to reassure her.  'And I'll turn this
  seat over to you immediately if we are hailed.  Wouldn't you like to
  drive this beauty for a while?" His banter made her relax, but she
  stayed right beside his position in case they had to execute a quick
  shift.
  They did have a little trouble deciding which platform they should dock
  at, since there were only minor changes in the basic glyph that Zainal
  had given them.  But as they cruised at the For a contingency plan,
  hastily organized and speedily executed, it went very well.  But there
  were other Catteni around on the dockside now, shifting cargoes or
  watching the Rugarians do so.  Bert Put's height would make him stand
  out like the proverbial sore thumb.  So he got wrapped up in blankets
  and Dowdall and Slav carried him over to the KDM, grumbling about
  Drassis and their crazy tracings back and forth.
  
  "We meet them at platform forty-seven and forty-nine when we pick up
  our
  passengers.  Now I gotta log on to port authority and get clearance."
  While Bert settled into the captain's chair, Beverly took the engineer's
  place as Mitford made contact with the port authority.
  Kris watched as his shoulders stiffened and he rolled his eyes.
  slowest possible forward speed, everyone on the bridge identified the
  number at the same moment, and could even see the KDM's platform
  just
  beyond.
  Below were the slave pens, similar to the ones Kris had been in when
  she'd been forced aboard the transport that had landed her on Botany
  so
  many months ago.  There were acres of pens, spreading out from a
  huge
  rectangular building.  However, not all the pens were full or in use.
  Only four.  She couldn't see who inhabited the ones beyond platform
  
  the
  bridge.  Kris managed a very subservient 'Yes, Drassi,' and saw the
  first of the pathetic transporters.
  She nearly burst into tears at the sight of the expressionless faces,
  the dead eyes, the automatic motion that no intelligence motivated.  She
  did manage to alter the decks to the lowest one as the loading process
  began.
  Half the time, she had all she could do to keep from bawling out loud,
  getting some relief by snarling at the Catteni who drove these poor
  wights up the ramps.  Most had their blankets slung over their
  shoulders, and one hand held the packet of ration bars to their bodies,
  the other held the treacherous soup cup now emptied of its contents.
  She told herself over and over that she was rescuing them: they'd soon
  be safe, they'd soon be cared for - and wondering how on earth they
  would manage all these walking dead at Botany where there was so
  much
  hope and life and a future.
  
  She shifted to the third level and then it was filled up.  So was the
  air around her, with little sobs and cries for pity from those in the
  lower decks.  The drugged soup couldn't put them out of their immediate
  misery - and hers - soon enough.
  It was Zainal who carefully removed her hands from the controls when
  the
  ramp retracted and the hatch clanged shut.
  He helped her back to the wardroom and poured her another shot of
  hooch.
  "We're almost out of it,' she protested.
  "You need it now, Kris,' he said.  'I hadn't realized what you were in
  for.  I'd have done it myself .  .  ." 'No, no,' and she shook her head,
  'not a Drassi captain." Then she put her head on the table and began to
  weep.   'They're all asleep now,' Zainal said, gathering her up in his
  arms and against his chest, stroking her hair.
  "Zainal?" she cried, raising her tear-marked face.  'Did we get them
  
  "We don't have much left,' Kris said inanely.
  "It's medicinal, my dear,' said Beverly, and she thought he looked awful
  under his coffee-coloured skin.  'Dowdall says the KDM's on a parallel
  course.  There's incoming traffic, but we're cleared to leave the system
  and doing it with all possible speed." He let out a long sigh and
  knocked back the rest of the hooch.
  "You're relieved, Bjornsen.  I don't want to see you on deck for two
  full shifts." 'Aye, aye, sir,' she said, managing a weak smile and limp
  salute.
  Zainal helped her to stand and guided her back to her compartment.  He
  had to lift her up into the upper bunk but his hands, as he covered her
  with the rough Catteni issue blanket, were very gentle.
  They answered several challenges over the next two weeks, until they
  got
  to the less trafficked area leading to the Botany system.
  Most were more or less standard ship-talk, which Zainal handled on the
  
  pected
  compassion.  And a high moral integrity.  She wasn't the only one who
  kept reassuring him that there was no way those folks could have been
  allowed to depart on Catteni slave ships.
  "Hell, Ray,' Beverly said the second evening, 'it isn't as if there are
  more of them than there are of us!  So we'll need to hunt more often and
  plant a few more fields.  If we have to, we'll form a creche situation
  for the ones who can do nothing for themselves.
  We don't even know just how badly some of them were mindwiped.
  There may be something there that some of our pysch people can re-
  vive.
  For all that, maybe just being among humans again .  .  .  begging your
  pardon, Zainal .  .  .  and good food and attention will bring some
  around." 'Almost everyone's got some kind of house now.  We can give
  them shelter, food and .  .  .  a lot of caring,' Dowdall said, clearing
  his throat.  He was another one who didn't let emotions overwhelm him.
  
  of a miracle,' Ray Scott said, although the brief flare of hope in his
  eyes at the mere suggestion of a possible restoration was not lost on
  anyone at the table.
  "We shall inform them,' Zainal repeated.
  "Speaking for myself,' Kris said, 'they can't be any more trouble than a
  baby and we can handle one more in our house, can't we, Zainal?" He
  nodded.  'If he or she doesn't get too upset seeing a Catteni around."
  'Well, I think,' Kris went on staunchly, 'it's important for everyone to
  know that there is at least one good Catteni in this universe!" They
  were nearing the heliopause when Zainal mentioned quite casually, Kris
  thought, it was just possible that they might have a little trouble
  getting the second ship through the Balloon.
  "Why?" Kris asked.  'They're alike as two peas in a pod."
  "There are two, and only one went out." 'The KDL was pregnant when
  she
  left.  The KDM is her daughter,' Kris said, surprising herself with such
  a whimsy.  The others around the wardroom table laughed politely.
  
  "Too bad we can't call downside and get Raisha up in the scout to poke
  a
  hole for us,' Bert said.  'We could go piggy-back, maybe,' he suggested,
  and then cancelled that notion with a whisk of his hand.
  "Too risky."
  Zainal agreed with a sceptical twist of one shoulder.
  "Fine thing if we get these folks right up to the door and can't wedge
  'em in,' said Dowdall.
  "There has to be a way,' Scott said, looking at Zainal for inspiration.
  "If there is, we find it,' the former Emassi said.
  But it was obvious that everyone on board the KDL worried about it for
  the rest of the journey through the solar system to its third planet.
  "Engines,' said Kris as she sat on the bridge watching their approach to
  Botany.
  
  vocabulary.
  "Something to pull another ship along, a ship with no power."
  "She's got it!" Scott said.  'Does the KDL have one?" It took a little
  time for Zainal to understand exactly what they meant, but when he did
  his grin was broad.
  "Not a tractor beam but is possible to connect,' and he jammed both
  fists together.  'One ship hull is negative, the other positive.
  Very easy to do.  I tell Bert." They had not allowed themselves many
  inter-ship broadcasts on the off-chance that they might be overheard.
  But now, so close to Botany, they could risk it.  The orbital might pick
  up some of what was transmitted, but not enough to give any alert.
  Not unless there were Eosi hiding behind the moons.
  "Oh, he means magnetize the hull,' Bert said, catching on.
  
  the Balloon, which gaped wide enough to admit the ship.  All of the KDL
  was shortly inside the Balloon and they felt no resistance, nor sudden
  disconnection of the KDM.
  "We did it!" crowed Bert on the open line.  'We did it!  Now how do I
  separate us?  Just kidding."
  Then Rastancil opened a channel, demanding to know were
  they all right?  What was the other ship doing on his screen?
  "What have you guys been up to?" 'Well, we needed it to complete our .
  .
  .  rescue mission,' Scott said, suddenly dropping from the high of
  successfully penetrating the last obstacle to home.  'We couldn't just .
  .  ." and his voice faltered then continued firmly, 'leave them there on
  Barevi."
  "Rescued?  Who?  What?"
  "You'll see,' Scott said almost angrily.  'Some of them are pretty bad.
  
  Psychiatrists?  What sort of casualties are they?" Rastancil sounded
  alarmed.
  "You'll see soon enough,' Scott said in a terse voice, 'and we'll need a
  good nutritious soup or someting easy to eat."
  He disconnected, a brooding expression on his face.
  "It'll work out, Ray,' Kris said, laying a hand on his arm.
  "You'll see." 'Botany can take on any challenge,' Dowdall added with the
  pride of a First Drop survivor.
  When the two ships landed in the big field in front of the hangar,
  Rastancil had mobilized transport, medical staff and enough personnel
  to
  assist in unloading the sleepers.  Jim Rastancil, Geoffrey Ainger, Bob
  Reidenbacker, Bull Fetterman - in fact all those who constituted the
  Council, waited patiently for Scott, Zainal and Mitford to descend from
  the KDM which landed slightly ahead of its sister ship.
  
  "Hell, yes,' Dowdall, Kris and Mitford added in unison.
  "Who?  What?" Rastancil asked, surprised to find Scott hesitant.
  "The ones the Eosi mind-wiped,' Scott said flatly.  'They were about to
  be shipped off God-knows where as slaves." 'Jesus!  Of course you had
  to
  bring them here,' said Rastancil.
  "Leon, Mayock, front and centre and let's get them out of there,' and he
  charged up the ramp with the medical personnel.
  Kris slipped ahead of him to her post at the deck controls.
  "All right, now, let's do this efficiently,' she heard Bull Fetterman
  roaring.  'Move that big sled up, stretcher-bearers up front.
  Someone get blankets ready as makeshift .  .  ." The cargo hold doors
  parted and, although several people choked over the rancid body smells
  that wafted out, they walked on it and stopped.
  
  Kris had turned on what lighting there was.
  "Stretcher here,' Leon said, pointing to the man and then moving inward,
  to the next prone body.  'Mayock, we'd better do a triage."
  And the operation began its final stage.
  Sixteen hundred humans, fortunately not all of them mindwiped but
  many
  with abused bodies and minor injures, were disembarked from the two
  ships.  And two hundred Deski, one hundred and fourteen Rugarians,
  ninety Ilginish and twelve Turs.
  The Turs were left on a lower deck which confined them should they
  wake
  before Raisha returned from taking the Catteni to their new
  accommodations.  The two crewmen from the KDM had been secured
  in its
  cheerless brig throughout the trip, seeing only Coo or Mitford in his
  Catteni role.  They were told that their ship had been commandeered.
  
  With so many hands to help, Leon's triage team separated those who
  needed the most attention from those who needed only rest, good food
  and
  reassurance.  By then, quite a few were regaining consciousness and
  could be offered water and soup, hastily brought from the dining hall.
  Even without, formal orders, there was suddenly a carer with every
  victim in a response that certainly gladdened Kris's heart.  Scott
  should have had more faith in the community's generosity.  It wasn't as
  if he hadn't seen examples of it with every new Drop the Catteni made.
  Some awakened and were utterly passive: their empty faces
  expressionless.  They had to be helped to drink, though they could
  manage to swallow or eat once food was put to their lips.
  Others woke, screaming or sobbing helplessly and that was nearly as
  heartbreaking even if it gave an indication that some vestige of the
  original personality might remain.
  "Just keep talking to them, folks,' Leon called out.  'Let them hear
  English, see human faces around them.  Feed 'em, but don't let them
  
  "What'nthell are you doing, Zainal?  Taking pictures of people right
  now."
  "I show the Farmers what Eosi do to people.  I show the
  Farmers what humans do to help,' he said, bringing the taper in close to
  the vacant eyes of Joe's man.
  Then Zainal turned the camera to include the woman Leon was treating
  for
  body lacerations that covered every inch of her torso.  He went from her
  to a group of three whose faces were devoid of any expression, eyes
  dulled and unfocusing.
  Those who could be classified as walking wounded, were sent to the
  homes
  of volunteer caters, with instructions for basic care.
  "Like a bath!" someone remarked loudly.  'Wonder what I'll find under
  all that dirt and .  .  .  yuck." Everyone volunteered to help almost to
  
  them go off on their own.  We'll set up evaluation conferences and see
  which might respond to rehabilitaion."
  "Can you manage, Leon?" Scott asked earnestly.
  "You better believe it, Ray,' Leon replied sharply.  'In fact we can and
  have managed it,' and he swung his arm in a broad gesture across the
  all
  but empty field.  'Who knows?  Good food, fresh air, plenty of friendly
  faces .  .  ." he added with a wry grin, 'and good trauma skills, we may
  even effect a significant number of complete recoveries." 'You really
  think so?" Scott looked ready to accept any reassurance for the
  responsibility he had off-loaded on the colony.
  "Sure do!" Leon said in such a positive tone that Scott finally relaxed.
  'No way you could have left them!  Any road, they're better off with
  us."
  "They are, you know,' Kris said.  'You look beat, Ray."
  "I should take one in with me.  My house is finished,' and Scott stared
  
  the
  creche girls had told her that he'd been just fine.
  "I believe it.  Get on up to him, now,' and Leon gave her a little push
  in the right direction.  Then, when he saw Kris glancing about her for
  Zainal, he added, 'he was following the final load on the sled that last
  time I saw him." To her delighted surprise, she met him just short of
  the creche, with Zane in his arms.  He shrieked with joy on seeing his
  mother and, almost overbalancing himself out of Zainal's arms, reached
  out both hands for her.  Zainal let the exchange be made, one hand
  holding the recording camera tight against his side.
  "I saw you filming,' Scott said, altering his direction to join them. He
  even managed a tired smile at the enthusiastic way Zane was hugging
  his
  mother.   Zainal patted the camera, nodding. 'Such evidence is needed
  to
  show the Farmers how the Eosi treat humans.  You will help me write a
  report, Ray?" And when Scott nodded wearily, Zainal added, 'What
  words
  do not say, the film will." 'You'll use one of those homing capsules the
  
  words of explanation, and these were carefully inserted in the message
  tube.
  The homing device had no trouble penetrating the Balloon on its way to
  its destination.  Its departure was once again noted by the orbital and
  the geo-synchronous satellite, as well as its abrupt disappearance just
  past the heliopause.  The event was immediately sent to Eosi
  headquarters for distribution.
  The Ix Mentat, just returned from its almost futile investigations on
  the rebellious planet, was so contorted with rage that its juniors
  feared it might lose connection with its host.  It had only just
  received a report from Barevi, citing the disappearance of one of the
  new transporter vessels as well as over 2,000 slaves, destined for the
  mining colony at The Sot Fac Set which had been expecting replace-
  ments
  for unavoidable casualties in a major shaft collapse.  When the report
  came to the composition of that shipment, the Ix Mentat came closer to
  self-extinction than any of its peer group in their long history.
  Its recovery from such a seizure was slow: its host had suffered bodily
  
  had two or more spaceships.
  When the Eosi Ix recovered fully from its incapacity, it began to
  organize the largest expedition ever mounted by Catteni forces.  It
  would wreak the most horrific vengeance on that recalcitrant planet that
  had ever been mounted by Eosi Mentat.
  Afterwards there would be no opposition left in the galaxy that could
  subject an Eosi to such humiliation.  But first, they must find weapons
  or the method to breach the barrier around the colony planet.
  A planet the Ix Mentat stoutly told all its colleagues, which was
  undoubtedly the cause of all the problems recently encountered by
  Catteni and Eosi alike.  Once it was destroyed, the Eosi could resume
  their normal activities and enjoy their conquests unopposed. An..
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Vault2.0.-.Fiction-and-audiobooks/Books/M/Mccaffrey, Anne/Anne McCaffrey - Freedom 2 - Freedoms Choice.pdf