Freedom’s Choice (7 page)

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,” and 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.

“Now, wait a minute, Mitford,” Dane began in protest.

“Leon will speak the necessary dying words,” Zainal said firmly, his eyes still holding Kris'. “It reassures.”

“It had better,” and Kris glared fiercely at Mitford. How dare he imply that she and Zainal would be so selfish as to take the ship for themselves if both were on board.

“Why do you need Bert and Raisha?” Worrell asked.

“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,” Mitford said, shifting his eyes anywhere but in Kris' 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 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 Catteni female.”

“After all you've done,” Leon Dane muttered, exiting behind them. “Surely he can't doubt your integrity.”

“Not to worry, Leon,” Zainal said.

“I do all the worrying,” Worrell said, 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' ears, far too cheerful considering what he had just set into motion.

Then Kris found her mind going back to the echo of his colorless voice saying, “Eosi use your body.” Small
wonder he 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 honor for an Emassi, and one they undertook with some pride. Had Botany wrought a great change in him, or was it simply that he now had an escape from such a hideous future? Then she began to wonder how deeply the possession went: Was just the body used as a vehicle for these mysterious Eosi? Or did they subsume the entire personality, leaving nothing of the original man? 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 why Dane and Worrell had 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.

They did, and there were clean overalls in their quarters to change into. Zainal put the Catteni communicator carefully in the pouch with his portable unit in his fresh clothing before they left for their wash.

* * *

He seemed eager to make this a special occasion, too. They spent time soaping each other and then swimming exuberant lengths against the lake's deep current within the roped safety 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—as 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 this world to its new 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?”

“Second moon rises soon. You must be ready.”

“I gotta know what the sounds mean, Zainal,” she complained.

“Get the sound right and then I tell you meanings,” he said, and repeated the four staccato syllables again. She did her best to imitate…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 lookout levels, out of earshot of 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 the sunlight. That reminded Kris that time was a constraint.

Because she had always learned better using visual aids, Kris took a sharp pebble and scratched out the phonetics of what Zainal coached her to say…as well as she could. Just when she thought her mimicry was accurate, Zainal would shake his head.

“What's the matter with that?”

He shook his head again but patted her shoulder. “You don't 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, still realizing that even that wasn't perfect.

“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,” and doing that, she repeated the phrases once again, hoping she wouldn't accidentally strangle herself.

“That's it,” Zainal said, bringing both 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.”

She told him what she understood.

“You may be asked. You must know what to answer to any question.”

“What about ‘I don't know'?”

“You must sound as if you do know all. So, say first, ‘Chouma'—‘quiet'—as if you can be overheard. Then ‘Schkelk'…” and Kris sat upright with surprise because she knew what that meant.

“‘Listen'?”

Zainal grinned with surprise as he nodded. “Say it 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 the word out 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 Moon was bright and high when he finally said she was good enough.

He took out the unit and held it up. “Now!”

“Now? You mean, we do it tonight?” She panicked. She wasn't ready yet. “But Bert and Raisha…”

“They are here. I saw them drive in. I brief them, too. So we send message now. All is fresh in your mind. And mouth.”

He pressed the finger pad and, much too quickly for Kris' peace of mind, a voice responded. Kris gulped and began her well-rehearsed message, overriding one question with as harsh a “Schkelk” 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 Catteni guard's.

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.”

Kris made a face. “Awful name.”

“Useful to know.”

“They answered awful fast.”

Zainal considered that. “They want Zainal bad. They are there till 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.

* * *

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, and Raisha Simonova raced across the gorge to catch up. They didn't until Zainal and Kris entered Mitford's office.

“You got the message through?” Mitford asked.

“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 so tentatively 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.”

Mitford grunted and scratched the back of his head. He still did not look Kris in the eye. Which somewhat appeased her.

“May I have paper?” Zainal asked, and Mitford quickly supplied him with sheets and a pencil. With his usual quick sure strokes, Zainal sketched what had to be the interior of the scout. 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.

“Bert, Raisha, we mean to catch us a scout ship tonight,” he said, and both gawked in disbelief. “A few nights ago a Catteni ship landed four commando types on a field at night.”

“Oho!” Raisha said, and turned pale.

“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 night crawlers?”

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.

“I only had two but one as navigator,” Bert said, though both were clearly dying to go on despite their inexperience.

“You'll do good,” Zainal said, so convincingly that both demurred. “A scout can carry six at most. Four were set down. I think only two remain. Both can be told to come help Arvonk, the 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 colors of the relevant toggles and drew diagrams of the icons above other controls. They concentrated so hard 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 Catteni vessel.”