Freedom’s Choice (6 page)

Zainal chuckled again, still very pleased, and seeming to ignore the question. “This will be useful,” he said, and waggled the unit before he replaced 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.

“Two?” Worrell exclaimed, amazed at the audacious prospect.

Zainal nodded, leaning across the table toward the sergeant. “You have captured me. You, Kris, will speak this in a message, but I have fought hard and killed two. You need fast scout before vikso,” and he tapped the vial, “wears off. They must land where Emassi scout met 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. After all, she'd been teaching him English: turnabout was fair play. “
You
will have made my capture.”

“Me?” Kris looked around the room at the others, 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 spaceship but he was not totally reassured by such sketchy details. “So you get them out of the scout, and preferably disposed of by the night crawlers, and then what?”

“We have one scout vessel.”

“And no reprisals?” Mitford was extremely skeptical.

“No reason because the ship will take off…” and everyone exclaimed at that, and Zainal glanced about, grinning again. “It leaves 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 overpowered 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 not yet as good as his accent.

“Believe it,” she substituted.

“On Barevi I showed you I am difficult to catch.”

Kris laughed. “All right. So I manage a message out before you kill me…”

“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 grinned again. “I will bring Kris with me…” and Mitford glowered more deeply, “and Bert Put and the woman, Raisha Simonova—who flew in space from your planet. They learn to use the ship. It is very simple to fly. You may come, too,” he added with another grin and a bow to Mitford.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Mitford said with a wave of his hand and a fleeting expression of distaste. “I'll stick to good ol' Terra Firma. But taking the spacers is a damned good idea.”

“I'll go in your place, sarge,” Worrell said, 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 in the 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 straighten up from his crouch across the table. The Catteni paused, a smile tugging at his mouth. “Then…” and he had everyone's attention, “the next transport ship to arrive will be surprised and we will have two to use.”

There was a long moment of surprised reflection but Mitford broke it.

“Your people can't be that stupid,” Mitford began.

“No?” Zainal said, raising his eyebrows with a sarcastic expression. “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 takeoff…” and he spread his hands at such a simple ruse.

“The ship will explode?” Mitford asked, jutting his chin out.

“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…” Zainal 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. “And it would be great to know we're not stuck anymore on…” He paused, looked surprised, and then laughed. “You know, I'm not as eager to leave Botany as I used to be.” He brushed away that candid remark. “Won't the Emassi retaliate on Earth when they've lost both a scout and a transport here on Botany?”

“I don't 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 for me 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.”

“Just like some humans I know,” Leon said in a caustic tone.

“So, we might even have something to defend ourselves with if the Farmers come looking for us,” Worrell said, looking relieved.

Zainal shook his head. “Only scout has weapons. But two is better than nothing and there are other uses for a scout.”

“Our own exploratory missions?” Mitford asked.

“I myself will like to know who the other owners are. Don't you?” asked Zainal. “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 anymore. 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's plan. 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 his eye and the jut of his jaw suggested a measure of approval.

“Yes,” and Zainal shrugged, “why not?”

Mitford slapped the table again and gave another burst of laughter. “Yeah, why not?”

“We can
try
…” Leon said, swatting his thigh with one hand in emphasis. “By God, I want to!”

“Do you think we should?” asked Worrell, hitching his pants with his elbows. “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?” Kris asked. “Only why do you have to pretend the transport explodes? And why do you have to be careful returning the scout to Botany?”

“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 ones so we…ah…fool it.”

“Clarify one point for me, will you, Zainal?” Mitford asked, and when Zainal nodded, “Why do they want you so bad for that duty you don't want any part of?”

Zainal gave a harsh laugh. “I was chosen for it by Eosi. They can choose someone else now.”

“Just what
is
that duty?” Mitford asked at his bluntest.

The change in Zainal's posture and face, though subtle, sent chills down Kris' spine and caused Mitford to recoil slightly.

“Eosi use your body.” Then, with a second almost imperceptible change which emphatically told Kris that Zainal 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 expectant 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 handheld, tapping out the code for Camp Narrow. “Yo, Latore? Send Bert Put and Raisha Simonova up here on the double, will ya? Something's come up. We need them before…” and 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 all of it stays among us.” The other nodded. “Phase Two we'll talk about if Phase One works.”

“It will work,” Zainal said with absolute confidence.

“Phase Three…” and Mitford pointed a finger at Zainal, “is going to need a lot more thinking.”

Zainal was in total agreement.

“Damn it, sarge,” Leon Dane said staunchly, “even
the mere notion of…Phase Three…puts heart in me. Think what it 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 said.

Actually she wanted to cheer wildly for the surge of hope that Zainal's master plan had 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. She wasn't at all sure about Phase Three, but having two spacegoing ships gave them a positive advantage in finding whoever did own Botany. Would a Catteni scout ship be able to keep up with the monstrous leviathans sent by the Farmers to collect the harvests of Botany?
First,
she told herself firmly,
get it, then dream.
And if
they
were a species that resented having their supply planets taken over by another spacefaring 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 details off 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 reminded him.

“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 toward Catteni,” Zainal said, nodding. “But not fast because they carry heavy load.” He thumbed his chest. “Me.”

“Good…so there's enough time for the night crawlers to attack. What about the Catteni shooting 'em? That Lenvec Emassi saw what night crawlers do on his last trip here.”

Zainal shrugged. “Winter night crawlers are very hungry, very fast, and grab feet. Or we can be humane,” and he grinned as he saw the reaction to the word, “and kill before they know. We have fast and silent weapons. Lance, crossbow, slingshot.”

“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 pickup squad down, but if you are overcoming a crew, would you not kill off the female first, the one who drugged you?”