Freedom’s Choice (23 page)

“All we need is another shipment of replacements,” Beverly said with a grin.

“Hell's bells, general,” and Mitford grinned, “we saved everything we didn't use, so we've still got the plows and other farming junk. I'd heard none of the scraps were vacuumed up or beamed or whatever. We only have to mount plows 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 plowing. What about the scavengers?”

“Nary a sign of them,” Mitford said.

“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, t'any rate.” Mitford took up the recital. “We did find rocksquats, whole colonies of them up in the hills—and just as dumb as the ones over here. There were avians where the lodge-poles have grown up into forests. Perhaps the damned crawlers died of starvation.” He grinned. “We can always rustle a few loo-cows from here and see what happens. There're none there that we could find.”

“Many of the same root vegetables and berry bushes already grow there and other vegetation is similar,” Bjorn put in, 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 bit of a smile. “You're not alone.”

“We may yet find something similar,” Bjorn said, his wide face eager to please her. “We don't really have a complete catalog of the planet's flora.”

“By the way, Mitford,” Beverly said, “we disarmed the darts as you recommended. That's quite a powerful anesthesia!”

“Indeed,” Zainal and Kris said in unison.

“That's right,” and Scott turned to them. “You were caught and subsequently saved another, more fortunate group.” He paused a moment. “If there are truly no night crawlers…. There are many valid reasons for shifting our operations to that continent.”

Mitford leaned forward, circumscribing the area they had searched with his index finger. “It's great country, sir. It'd take quite a few trips in the transport, but it might be the smartest move we've done since we got dropped here.”

“If we could be sure the Eosi aren't watching…” Scott murmured, and looked at Zainal.

“They will still be ‘considering,' Scott,” Zainal replied to the unasked question. “Eosi consider long and hard before acting. Here, we use transport at correct times so the orbital does not see—short trip. If thrusters are used carefully, in short bursts, the geosynchronous 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.

* * *

Not every valley being used as new accommodations was as far along in supplying shelter and amenities as the headquarters establishment. 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. They were already involved in various projects and didn't want to drop tools—even the ones they
were making. However, the availability of the massive caverns, when they were having to put together sheds from primitive substances, did cause them to reconsider. Then, all of a sudden, they wanted to be the first to get over there and resettled.

The miners were less happy, especially Walter Duxie, the mining 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 workforce, 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. With captured ships, a trip to Barevi would not be too hard.”

“You pirate,” Beverly said with a laugh, and then had to explain the term.

“I will make a very good pirate,” Zainal decided, pleased with the definition. “Not the only one, too.”

“Hey, what else could you lift at the same time?” Su asked. He was head of one engineering group who found themselves constantly having to invent the tools that had once been always available.

“Depends on what you want,” Zainal said.

“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 reached a minimum quantity within 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 upcoming 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 blizzards to many who came from cold climates. The temperatures dipped very low occasionally, hampering work outside, but there was always something to be done in what shelter was available from the cold. The people who suffered were those used to tropical conditions and they were given extra clothing and first priority when 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 the Headquarters Valley camp, 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,” Kris said.

“It is and it isn't,” Sandy said, “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 additional work for the few “extras” that 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.

“Us?” Then Kris shook her head as she caught on. “Us as in women…of childbearing age?”

“You got it,” Sandy said, leaning back again and grinning wryly. “There are far more men than women on Botany and as there 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 out her 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 more Botanical than Cattenical now. ‘I drop, I stay.'” Sandy snorted in amusement. “Especially the brass-heads. But you two can't procreate. You do know that?” When Kris nodded, she went on, “And you're of an age to do so.”

Kris felt a total rejection of what she knew would come next and leaned away from Sandy. She couldn't, she really couldn't, go with anyone else, even to increase the genetic pool of a colony she was working very hard to make secure.

“Now don't get all silly about it,” Sandy said. “We've got enough doctors here now so you can just
be 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 hand-fasted 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,” she 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 of 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 month, day, or year it was. Then she didn't think she'd make a good mother anyhow. She'd never liked babysitting jobs in high school or college, unless the kid was asleep. When one woke up and screamed at her, she never went back to that family. She didn't think she had an ounce of maternal instinct in her.

“Anyway, we're going to set up crèches and minders 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 started to get angry now. She hadn't minded or complained of 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 smiling 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 an expectable 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 you missed the great debate and no one's had the courage to tell you about it.”

“Who stuck you with the duty? Did Mitford know?”

“I volunteered. Mitford was too chicken,” Sandy said, grinning. “Look at it this way, Kris. We've
made
Botany our own and we're going 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. Back on Earth,” and she jerked her thumb over her shoulder, “I was considered ‘fringe,' or ‘weird' and ‘antisocial,' nonconformist and definitely an oddball. 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 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 added. “The Farmers.”

“Yeah,” Sandy said in a thoughtful drawl. “But we'll worry about that when we need to. Right now…Oops,” and she stopped, looking in the direction of the entrance.

Zainal was there, looking around, and spotted Kris and Sandy. She got up. “Good luck,” and she left with a wink and a grin.

Kris wasn't sure she was ready for Zainal to join her just then. Sandy's disclosure had really shaken her. She'd have to sort this all 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. She was amazed that even someone who'd been as abused as Patti Sue could now contemplate getting pregnant.

She 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 what “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 himself to Leila though they seemed an odd couple.