Freedom's Ransom (27 page)

“Indeed, when his tutor approves his lessons,” Zainal said, and Peran's face fell. “Now he must go about his
father's errands.” Zainal slipped Peran the tokens, which when he had offered them to Natchi, the old one-armed man had cheerfully waved aside.

“I owe you service for the many fine cups of coffee I have received, Emassi. I also need to walk. I will accompany your son.”

“My thanks, Natchi, for your courtesy.”

Natchi performed a maneuver more salute than bow. Then, with smartness reminiscent of other days, he turned and followed Peran to where he had stored his lift.

BY THE TIME THEY REACHED THEIR STALL THE next day, a goodly crowd was waiting. So they scurried to get the next urn of coffee started and poured out what was in the hottle for the impatient customers. Among them were interested sellers, and Zainal and Chuck began again checking their lists against the proffered items. Much coffee was consumed: Zainal was beginning to think that he was getting all Barevians addicted to the beverage. Well, there was nothing wrong with supplying a desired substance.

About mid-morning, when Zainal was winding up a good deal with someone who had twenty-volt truck batteries to trade, Bazil appeared, a very anxious expression on his face. Unwilling to interrupt Zainal at what was obviously a crucial time, Bazil approached Kris, pulling her sleeve urgently.

“My father must help. It's Ferris. He's being hauled to Kapash's office as a thief,” Bazil said.

For a moment, sheer funk robbed Kris of any strength.

“Where is he? What did he take? Do you know, Bazil?”

“He's been visiting all the drinking places, talking to the servers. Like he told Zainal he would do, to advertise Eric's services. Then a big guy arrived this morning, swearing Ferris had robbed him. He didn't say what, but Ferris ran, and one of the market guards caught him. They're hauling him off to Kapash's office. Oh, Kris, if he's put in that triangle, he'll be killed.” Bazil was almost sobbing with fear.

Kris was really torn about interrupting Zainal. Maybe she could handle this. She beckoned to Chuck. Clune, having heard what Bazil had said, stepped forward.

“I'll come, too,” he said, pumping up his biceps.

Chuck also saw how deeply involved Zainal was in the business of trading and he took Kris's arm.

“What could he have stolen? And yes, I know his history, Kris, but we'll get him out of it. I know Kapash has just been waiting for the chance.” Chuck scooped up something from the digitally locked box before he slammed it shut and passed it over to Sally Stoffers, telling her to guard it. She knew it contained gold flakes and the smaller nuggets. “We'll just see if we can deal with this.” Kris saw the marked hesitation on Bazil's face.

“I am Lady Emassi, Bazil. I can deal with a mere market manager. Tell Zainal we've gone to the manager's office, Sally, but
only
when he's finished dealing. It's this way, isn't it, Bazil?” Kris said, striding down the long side of their square.

Bazil still looked scared and dubious but he ran to catch up with her, worried about Ferris. While she knew that Bazil might be feeling cheated of his father's support, she also knew that Zainal would be annoyed with his son for interrupting him.

There was an interested crowd around the manager's office but Kris, with Chuck and Clune beside her, formed a wedge and pushed her way through, alarmed to hear Ferris sobbing.

“I stole nothing. It was on the floor. The man said I could have it,” he was saying.

“Who are you?” the man demanded, and she saw the gap in the front of his teeth.

“I am Lady Emassi, a rank conferred on me by Supreme Emassi Kamiton,” she announced, squaring her shoulders and trying to control her panting, for they'd rushed to get there. “Ferris is one of our young people. What do you allege he has stolen from you?” She knew she was imitating Dame Edith Evans at her most regal and repressive, but perhaps it would work.

The man pointed at the gap in his teeth. “My toof.”

Kris managed not to grin at his lisp. “How could a slender lad like Ferris steal your tooth?” she asked, managing to retain her Evansian pose.

“It was on the floor,” Ferris said, as if that conferred legitimacy on his action.

“And that's where you found it?”

“Yes. On Sicrim's floor. This morning.”

“But the toof is mine,” the fellow insisted, becoming more agitated.

“I was just taking it to Dr. Sachs,” Ferris said, looking penitent and put-upon.

“But it is mine!”

“If it was left on the floor since last night, sir, it may be presumed that you had abandoned it,” Kris pointed out. “Therefore, the lad has not knowingly
stolen
from you as an act of bad faith. He was, in fact, bringing it to the one man on this planet who can replace it in your jaw.”

“He can?” the man exclaimed.

Now Ferris shoved his hand in his pocket and displayed a tusk neatly bagged in one of the little plastic envelopes that Eric had brought with him.

“That's mine!” The fellow lunged to repossess it.

“A lot of good it does you in the bag,” Ferris said contemptuously, recovering some of his usual impudence, and he folded thin arms across his chest. “I cleaned it off, which Eric says is necessary, and put it in the bag for safekeeping. I did not know who it belonged
to.” Ceremoniously, a look of creditable innocence on his face, Ferris handed it over.

“It belongs to me.” The man slipped the item into his pocket, leaving one hand protectively over his tooth, as if Ferris might somehow regain it.

Kris swiveled squarely to face Kapash, who had been listening and watching the proceedings with an odd expression on his face.

“How could Ferris have known the owner, Manager Kapash?” Kris asked earnestly. “Now that he does, he has returned it. No theft has occurred. There has been honorable restitution of a missing object.”

“But he took what does not belong to him,” Kapash said, his face severe and threatening. “He is a thief. Nor did he properly attempt to find out who owned the tooth.”

“But Sicrim said I could have any teeth I could find,” Ferris said plaintively. “I wasn't doing anything wrong. Ask Sicrim.”

“Is this Sicrim present?” Kapash asked after briefly mulling that over.

He is trying to be reasonable, Kris thought, in these ludicrous circumstances, but Sicrim was not among those who crowded around the office.

“He is a thief!” the tooth owner said unforgivingly, pointing down at Ferris with a dirty, broken finger.

“He is a boy,” Kris said, giving the plaintiff a long and sour look for his bullying attitude. “And the sooner you get to the dentist to replace that tooth, the better. The longer you wait for treatment, the less chance you have of getting it back into your jaw, you know.”

“Aha!” Kapash said, pointing at Kris. “So this is how you get business for that expert of yours?”

“What? I'm not the one knocking teeth out, Kapash. He has to get that done for himself,” she said, jerking her thumb at the plaintiff. There was a ripple of amusement from those so avidly listening to the discussion. She wished she'd thought to bring some packets of beans, although dropping some on Kapash's desk would have
been too obvious a bribe. But, to judge by the onlookers' attitude, she also sensed that she had made a good argument.

“Let it be, Kapash,” someone from the crowd said.

The faint wail of a siren was audible after that remark. “Besides, there's the riot alarm. That's your business, Kapash.”

Kapash held up his hand to silence those in the office. Plainly heard were aggressive shouts and calls as well as the bray of the siren.

Clearly Kapash had to investigate, and with a glare at Kris, he rose and stalked out of his office, gesturing to his guards to fall in behind him as he went in search of more culpable and lucrative targets. Most of those gathered followed him to see what amusement the new diversion would provide.

Kris held out her hand to Ferris and led him out of the office.

“I did have Sicrim's permission, Kris, I did. I know you won't believe me.”

“But I do, Ferris. You have more sense than to get us into any trouble with your taking ways. Especially after this,” she said as they walked as quickly as possible out of the square.

Whistles, more sirens, and startled, hurt cries could be heard, and served to hurry them out of the vicinity.

They met Zainal, hurrying in their direction, in the main corridor of the next square.

“What happened? What's happening?” He pointed in the direction of the audible disturbance.

Kris gave him a quick summary while Ferris hung his head in shame for having caused the emergency and bringing trouble to his friends.

“I think Kapash would have loved to press charges, but . . .” Chuck added.

“It was a good notion, Ferris, but you see how careful we have to be here, do you not?” Zainal said, one hand jiggling the thin shoulder, making the boy meet his eyes.

“Yes, Emassi, I do. I will not cause you more trouble.”

“Good lad. Now, we will not mention this to Eric,” Zainal began when a stranger intruded on their circle. Ferris quickly took refuge behind Zainal because it was the toothless man who had barged into them.

“You!” He pointed severely at Ferris. “You will take me to this man who can put my toof back in my jaw!”

“Of course,” Zainal answered pleasantly and gestured in the proper direction.

“I heard of this fellow,” the man said amiably, as if he hadn't nearly caused Ferris considerable bodily harm. “But first I needed my toof.”

The word still came out with a lisp but no one dared grin.

“The procedure takes a little time, does it not, Ferris?” Zainal said, since he knew very little about such matters whereas Ferris had been in constant contact with Eric, absorbing everything the genial dentist said.

“It does,” and there was a little gleam in Ferris's eye that suggested to Kris that it was not all pleasant either. “But I washed it as Eric told me to do, and kept it safe in that little bag.” He pointed to the man's pocket, where he had seen him deposit his errant tooth.

“I am indebted to you, young man,” the fellow said, “and I apologize for the market manager's zeal.”

“It has been well resolved,” Kris said.

“I am Mischik,” the Catteni said, and the others were required by courtesy to name themselves. “You are the Botany folk.”

“We are,” Zainal said proudly.

“And you are truly a Lady Emassi?” Mischik said, lisping more than ever on the double sibilants.

“I am.”

“Remarkable,” he said.

“I know,” she replied equably.

By then they had reached their own aisle and Ferris ran ahead to tell Eric of a new customer. Zainal and Kris hastened to the stall since there seemed to be quite an
influx of clients wanting to sample the coffee. More likely, Kris thought, to see if the Botany lad had survived the confrontation with Kapash.

“Nothing like a mild emergency to spread the word,” Kris murmured to Zainal as they served coffee as quickly as they could pour it.

•   •   •

WORD INDEED HAD SPREAD—THOUGH THE RIOT Kapash had gone to suppress had not—and Eric had many inquiries about his services. He had ministered to Mischik and arranged for him to come back the next day and see if the tooth was settling in. Eric was forthright in saying that the sooner he could restore a tooth the better the chances of success, but Mischik was happy enough to be able to speak without the annoying lisp. Eric assured him that failing the natural reestablishment of the tooth, he could make a bridge to close the gap.

Everyone was tired when Zainal announced that they had better close and, after today's episode with Kapash, everyone was determined not to arouse any further attention from the market commander.

AMONG THE MANY GOALS ZAINAL HAD SET FOR himself, gaining entrance to the port commander's office—and the port commander's files—to access the information on the destinations of the slave-carrying ships was topmost on his list. He needed only to get into the facility and find an empty office with a control board to access the information. Another ransom to be executed. It was his responsibility to right that massive wrong done to Kris's people, even if she felt he was carrying responsibility too far. These Terrans should have been allies, not slaves, to the Catteni. There was the unassailable fact that unless he did something, he doubted those enslaved would ever return home, and with all those captives exiled from their home world, would Humans ever be on good terms with the Catteni?

He was glad that Kris had managed to save Ferris. The boy had been invaluable for discreet reconnaissance and had already saved Zainal from spending time with sellers who had nothing he wanted. Any excuse to waste time and have the chance to drink the fine coffee obviously motivated some of their visitors.

•   •   •

TRADING CONTINUED BRISKLY ALL MORNING and well into the afternoon, when the more prosperous merchants retired for the noonday meal, leaving their goods and stalls in the charge of their seconds. A few came to buy a cup of coffee when their masters had safely disappeared. Zainal hoped it would escape Kapash's notice that coffee was now for sale. He thought privately that it would take many busy days for what they earned for the beverage to make a substantial profit.

He had to discard that opinion later, after Floss, with Clune very close to her, took over from Kathy Harvey at the coffee bar. Kris had breezily told him that's what they had invented: the first Barevi coffee bar. There were also rumors that complaints had been issued to the market manager that people were obstructing the way to and from other stalls by gathering thickly in front of the “coffee bar.” By late afternoon, however, they had enough money to rent another stall, which came equipped—for a price—with tables, chairs, and a proper catering area. Floss, safely ensconced behind the “bar,” dealt capably with the flow of customers and ignored the laughs and remarks from the idlers gathered at Eric's office.