Freedom's Landing (25 page)

“Well, then, since the farm machinery seems to be shutting down after harvesting everything, and the farmers among us say that those loo-cows of yours, Kris, haven't been rounded up in a wintering environment, looks like we all can expect to survive whatever the winter season brings.”

“Say, sarge, if the machines are all shut down, either by us or their programming, couldn't we move into the buildings? We've found enough to accommodate all of us,” Kris said.

“That's being considered as an alternative,” Mitford said. “Some folks are scared of the possibility of more marauders and feel safer here in Camp Rock. They'd resist leaving. However, those barns would be equally as defensible. Now lemme talk to the Doyles, will ya, and you two get some rest.”

The rain was still pelting down when Kris and Zainal stopped in the main cavern for the hot soup and the rather tasty form of soda bread that was available. It was so good that she didn't even spit out the hard bits.

No one she knew was on duty there so she ate with Zainal. She tried not to, but she couldn't help notice the sideways looks directed at them: some quite speculative and unfriendly. Well, it didn't surprise her that there would still be animosity leveled at Zainal. Maybe that was why Mitford kept sending them out of the camp on patrol. Out of sight, out of mind. She sighed, a little sound, but Zainal caught it and looked inquiringly at her. She smiled dismissively and broke off a piece of her bread to scrape the last of the thick, tasty soup out of the rather lopsided pottery bowl. Zainal followed her example, grinning back at her.

They washed out their utensils and returned them to the storage racks.

“I go see Coo,” Zainal said.

“I'll come…” But when Zainal shook his head, she decided that a dip was the next order of business for her. “Give him my regards.”

“Regards?”

“Warm greetings.”

“Oh! Not a ‘boy' saying.”

“Nope!” She grinned at him.

“One day you explain the ‘boy' thing?”

“Any day now, m'friend,” Kris said with a laugh. “Your English improves in leaps and bounds.”

“Leaps and bounds?” He frowned as he tried to figure out the meaning of what she had said.

“I'll explain that, too. Me for a bath,” she said in farewell.

The water in the underground lake was cold enough to
curtail any lengthy wallowing. She was out and blotting herself dry beyond the main lights when she heard voices.

“Aarens had a point. How do we know that Cat isn't a spy? How do we know he doesn't have a comunit of some kind? How do we know he hasn't left messages with those machine-things in the garages?”

“Come off it, Barker,” and Kris, hurriedly dressing, recognized Joe Lattore's thick voice. “What would the Cats need to spy on us
for
, for God's sake? And he's no ordinary Cat anyway. I saw enough of the upper-class dudes and he's one of them.”

“Then why's he here with us?”

“That Bjornsen chick told me he'd killed a patrol leader and they caught him before the day was up.”

“Yeah, and who goes everywhere with that Cat? Huh?”

“You also heard the Doyle brothers same as I did, and they said there's nothing doing between 'em.”

“They was careful, is all.”

“Oh, stow it. The Cat's risked his neck to save us and I'm going to be grateful to him until I find a damned good reason not to be. And Aarens isn't good enough. I know
his
type and I tell you what, was I hiring, I wouldn't hire Aarens no way no how.”

Kris stepped as far back in the shadows as she could, a frisson of fear for Zainal running up her back. Did Mitford have any idea that such feelings were running against the Catteni? Probably, and that's exactly why Zainal was sent out on constant reconnaissance—to reduce the possibility of reprisals against him.

“When's Mitford going to ax him, then? Said he would when he found out all the bastard knows. Seems to me he'd've done that by now.”

“Maybe that's why he keeps sending him out of the camp? Get something else to waste him?”

“Next time he might just not come back,” a new voice said with a malicious chuckle. “We don't need no Cats here.”

“Ah, you guys make me sick. He's one man, and he's
been useful. You don't have to like useful people but you
can
use them. That's what Mitford's doing.”

Conversation altered when the first man got in the water.

“Keeee-rist, but that's cold! Freeze m'balls off, it will.”

“You have 'em?”

Kris grimaced and stopped listening as the comments became more personal and derogatory. Men were worse gossips than women. She hunkered down in the shadows, her back against the cold stone, and waited. Fortunately the group was not any more inclined to stay in the cold water than she had been and they were shortly out of it and dressing. She waited another long moment until she figured they had reached the upper corridors of the cave and then she left the lake.

She stopped by Mitford's “office” but he had a crowd, all talking and pushing diagrams at each other, so she went to her own cave. Sleep was the next order of her day.

*   *   *

DURING HER LATEST TREK, SOMEONE HAD TAKEN
advantage of her absence and stolen some of the brush which formed her mattress, so she didn't have quite as comfortable a night's rest as she'd hoped for. Still, she woke rested before dawn. When she got to the main cavern, hunters were grabbing a cup of the hot herbal tea before setting off to check snares or to hunt. With her cup in hand, she wandered hoping to find Jay or Sandy. They'd level with her about Zainal. At this point in time, Kris couldn't really see Mitford executing the Catteni for any reason. And there was no way Zainal had been “planted” among the prisoners. He was here because other Catteni wanted to get even with him. Sandy was absent, as was anyone else with whom she had some acquaintance.

Finding an unoccupied rock near the front of the cavern, she seated herself and kept watch of those coming into the cavern for their breakfast, waiting for Zainal's appearance. She wondered how Coo was doing. They really shouldn't have let him fuss with that flying thing: that fall had not been good for him, even with Lenny and Kris cushioning his landing.

She heard the rumble and the warning yell from the sentinels
at the same instant. And darting to the outside ledge, tried to see what was making the noise. Whatever it was, it was still some distance, but it sounded awfully like the harvester vessel: big! Only everything had been harvested. Hadn't it?

“Where's Mitford?” was the cry and several of the hunters took off to locate him. Kris went for Zainal.

She met him, head-on, bouncing off his hard body and cracking her head against the rock on the rebound. His hand grabbed her upper arm to steady her.

“Another big ship, Zainal,” she said, pointing outside. Still holding her arm, the Catteni drew her along with him, and others who had been roused by the general furor.

Once again, this time in the dark, everyone who could clambered to the nearest height and peered in the direction of the oncoming airborne vessel.

“Think they've come on reprisals?” someone asked. “With us messing up their mechanicals?”

“Zainal?” Mitford called.

“Here.”

“Any ideas?”

Kris could see that Zainal had cocked his head, listening intently to the sound.

“That is Catteni engine sound,” he said. Then pointed as a bulk, outlined by running lights, materialized out of the dawn gloom. Even Kris could see the basic difference in design between the first enormous vessel and this one, which was not as large, if the lights indicated its perimeter. Zainal watched a moment more and then pointed in the direction of the abattoir. “That way.”

“Jaysus…what're they doing?”

“Any chance they're landing more prisoners, Zainal?” Mitford asked.

“Yes. Good chance.” And he began to climb down. “Who comes with me?”

“I didn't say you should go, buddy,” Mitford said in a tense voice.

“Only fast runners,” Zainal said, ignoring Mitford. “They must unload.”

“Yeah, but
you'd
get there fast enough to take off with them, wouldn't you?” Mitford said in a hard tone, coming out of the darkness to grab Zainal by the arm.

Kris caught her breath. Maybe, after all, Mitford wouldn't object to a summary execution of the Catteni, and Kris did not, definitely did not want to see Zainal killed. She
liked
him too much!

“Don't do anything foolish, sarge,” she said. “I'll go with him.”

“Of course you will,” Mitford said cryptically. They had to pause now because the noise of the overflying craft drowned out any conversation. Zainal kept his eyes on the vessel, then nodded.

“Transport. More people. We must
try.
It is night still,” Zainal said and, pulling Kris by the hand, hauled her with him down from the height.

“Try what?” Mitford called out in the same breath that Kris echoed his question but Zainal was already sprinting down the ravine in the direction the long ship above them was headed, dragging Kris along with him.

She was aware of some conflicting and confused orders behind them as Zainal ran onward. In the first few strides, she wondered why he was so keen on having her along, but then she had to concentrate on her footing to keep up with him. The fact that she could was a plus. She was sure fitter on this crazy planet than she'd ever been. She could hear others following, cursing at the dark and the bad footing, but she concentrated on watching Zainal's movements and the track in front of them.

They were well ahead of those pursuing when Zainal allowed her to pause for a few moments. They were on the downside of the ridge, the lights of the vessel obscured by the lay of the land. She quickly recovered her breath enough to speak.

“Will they stop the same place they dropped us off?” she asked.

“That would be good,” he said. “Nothing there.”

She took that to mean that the field would be empty and thus a good spot to dump more unconscious bodies. She wondered how long it would take, or did the Catteni have some way of just rolling bodies out of the ship's hold that didn't require individual handling? Then she remembered, all too vividly, what happened to living creatures lying on fields on this fecking world. No wonder Zainal was in such a hurry. Dawn was still far away. Would they get there soon enough to prevent slaughter?

He started off again and she followed, all too aware that it had taken them two days to reach the caverns from that site. Even at the pace Zainal had set, would they make it to the field before the ship took off again? Well, they
had
to try. Or maybe he was hoping to attract attention from one of the hill points overlooking the field? They clambered up a slope now, and Zainal stopped, so abruptly that she ran into him.

“Hey, warn me, will…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that the running lights were higher than they should be for a ship that might be landing. They hadn't seen its gradual ascent. Zainal cursed, whirled, and looked back the way they had come, running his hand and arm along the line the ship had traveled as if trying to impress the direction in his mind. He started back up the slope they had just slid down, digging his toes in and slipping in the urgency of his passage.

Shaking her head, Kris followed him, pausing only briefly when the roar of engines told her that the ship was boosting out of planetary gravity. The flame of its propellant was as vivid as she remembered launches from Cape Kennedy. She would have liked to watch but had to keep up with Zainal.

They met up with the others in moments, due to the pace that Zainal was setting.

“The ship's already dumped its load,” she told them, clinging to someone as support as she gasped out an explanation. “Back that way. We gotta get there before the scavengers murder 'em all.”

“Was that why the Cat was in such a flaming hurry?”

“Hell, he wanted to catch up with them and get off this bleeding planet,” another man managed to gasp out.

“Think what you will, but are you going to help?” Kris cried, shouting the last of her challenge over her shoulder as she took off after Zainal.

They did gather more help as they went back through the ravine again. Dawn was brightening the sky, so it was easier to see where to put your feet. Where the track split, right down into the ravine, or left to continue on the upper ridge, Zainal signaled for Kris to report to Mitford, who was standing in his “office,” fists on his belt as he saw them emerge on the height.

“Need Slav badly,” Zainal added and then charged off again.

“What'n'ell's going on?”

Kris stopped, hands on knees, catching enough breath to speak. “We need Slav. Ship took off. It's already dropped its load. We gotta get there or the scavengers will.”

“Right on!” And Mitford snapped into action, yelling for Slav, Pess, Tesco, Su, Dowdell as she took up her chase of Zainal.

She finally caught up with him when he stopped by one of the many streams to rinse out his mouth. The sun wasn't up yet and the air was cool, but she was hot from her exertions and wondering if she would last the distance.

“Mitford's organized more help. Is it far?”

He shook his head. “Ship climbing.” He looked up at the lightening sky. “Lucky.”

She hoped so, but how long did those creatures scavenge? Would this half-light be sufficient to send them wherever they spent the daylight hours? She had her breath back and now dropped to her belly, burying her hot face in the cool water, intaking a mouthful to moisten her throat and letting only a little trickle down to her stomach. She was on her feet when he was.

And they ran on.

Actually this wasn't a bad pace, she thought, now she had
her second wind. She tried to keep her mind off what scavengers could do to a field full of nice juicy warm live bodies. Now that wasn't productive thought! At least it should now be clear to everyone at the camp that Zainal had been motivated to “save” people, not get himself off this planet. Though she wouldn't blame him if that had been his goal. Would he have taken her with him? That, too, was not a productive thought, but she was beginning to appreciate how much the big man meant to her. She'd never found anyone else who treated her as a competent equal, had never once tried to come on since the day she had floored him in the flitter. She knew from comments made back in the kitchens at Barevi that, while the Catteni were equipped, to put it discreetly, much the same way as human males were, only more so as one woman had said dryly, the two species were incompatible as far as propagation was concerned. No Catteni-Human offspring would be forthcoming. But, since the day she had clobbered him in the flyer back on Barevi, Zainal had never visibly lusted after her. And she was quite familiar with that sort of look. Zainal treated her not quite as he treated the male members of their patrols, but with a courtesy she found unusual and maybe even special to her. Even when he knew that it was her fault he was stuck with this bunch of suspicious, unappreciative, and sometimes intolerant mixed bag of humanoids. Oddly enough, though the Catteni were the “subjugating” race, the Deskis and Rugarians didn't seem to feel any animosity toward Zainal…certainly not as much as the Terrans did.