Freedom's Ransom (34 page)

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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

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“But what if the thefts have been discovered?” Ferris asked, wide-eyed.

Zainal merely laughed. “All the more reason for us to be about the business of closing our stall and leaving in good order.”

Very pleased with her assignment, Floss shooed Kris and Kathy to their quarters, saying loudly that Bazil and
Peran would help her clear the galley. “And leave it spotless!”

Zainal would have preferred to keep his sons innocent of the larceny, but since he had announced the reasons behind his actions, he felt they would understand that he didn't behave this way without cause. Revenge for an insult was a proper Catteni ritual under any circumstances, and insult had been done not only to Zainal, but also to Kris and Kathy.

He awakened after a few hours' sleep and went to the galley, thinking that this morning, of all he had recently enjoyed, there would be no hot coffee to savor. He was amazed to find Floss ready to pour him a fresh cup.

“Kapash's men thought they were so smart, Zainal—they thought coffee was just bags of beans,” she said with a laugh as he inhaled the fragrant steam, “But I had just poured three sacks of raw beans into the roaster when they arrived. They never looked there. Kris will be very pleased, too.”

The rest of the men and boys who followed him were equally pleased, none more than Natchi and Erbri, who had kipped down in the hold for what rest they would have before the dawn's action. So, tugging the lines of lifts out of the main hatch as soon as Natchi declared the docking bay free from casual traffic, they spread out to their various assignments.

•   •   •

FLOATING ABOVE THE MARKETPLACE SO LATE at night proved an eerie voyage as there were few around, most of them hired guards who would not necessarily think to look above their heads for transgressors, especially since Zainal kept to the deepest shadows, well able to avoid them as they did their rounds to check door locks.

Just as Zainal was hovering over Kierse's storage space, he saw the blue flash that meant Herb had effected a short in the power system. Such shorts happened so frequently that the guards would not be suspicious. Zainal
had had a chance to note that there were sentries near Kierse's shed, so he dismounted the lift and went to the dark alley between Kierse's and his neighbor's units. Wrapping the lead line of the lift around his wrist, he carefully eased himself off to the now unsecured entrance. He was in, lift and all, in moments. With a tiny hand light, he found the materials he wanted from Kierse, in revenge for bearing false witness against Kathy and Kris. He peeked out before he ventured into the side lane and then, lying uncomfortably on his purloined goods, eased the lift up and began his way back to the BASS-1, sticking to shadows whenever possible—which meant he cruised just above the roofs of the sheds.

He heard the noise of the distraction Erbri had promised, though he hadn't a clue what it was. But, as he entered the docking area, there was no one running up and down the corridors, and keeping to the shadows cast by ground lights, he made it back to the BASS-1 and into the open cargo hold without detection. It took only moments for him to find the nets he had assigned for the goods he would retrieve and tip the lift to send its burden slipping into the shrouds. Then he put the lift into its storage brackets. A sudden shadow caused him a moment's panic but when he saw slender legs dangling over the side of a lift, he realized it had to be one of the boys. The lift was very heavy and sank slowly. He made his way over and opened the netting so that the contents could be slid into place.

“We could go back for another dip,” Ditsy said, clearly elated with success. “We fixed the security lock so it won't come back on again.”

“We must not be too greedy ourselves,” Zainal said, but he thought of what use the tires would be at their destination and how the rubber was slowly perishing in its current site. “Let's make sure everyone else is in safe and sound,” he added as the black prow of another lift appeared in the cargo entrance.

He did send Ditsy, Clune, and Ninety back for another
load of tires and batteries but after that he called a halt to the operation. Brone returned to the ship to report that he and Tavis had settled Eric and his equipment safely in the compound and would see them in the morning. Brone gave the appearance of not noticing the cargo bay's new contents.

Zainal would have preferred lifting as soon as possible now but he had good reasons for wanting possible clients to know that he was leaving. Even appearing at his former site the morning after mass pilferage might deflect blame from him. Gail's signs had already been put up at the stall, announcing its closure. Those who had enjoyed early coffee were milling around, as if hoping to continue their coffee habit against all visible evidence to the contrary. It was also a relief to know that so far the previous night's burglaries had not yet been discovered. Kapash would know soon enough but he would not immediately suspect Zainal. He was surprised to see Kierse among those viewing the emptied premises.

“Where are you going? How will I sell what I have left of that unsalable stuff from Terra?”

“I will tell you when I know,” Zainal answered and started to pass Kierse. The man grabbed his tunic. Ninety Doyle took a step forward but Zainal stopped him with a swift glance.

“But I have to sell it,” Kierse said. “You've been my first buyer in months.”

“I was willing to buy but you wanted more than I had to pay.”

“I have to return a profit to my investors, you know.”

“That is your problem, not mine.” Zainal chopped at the restraining hand and Kierse did not persist, though his expression remained defeated. There were any number of inflammatory remarks Zainal could have made about greed and the irrationality of stealing things without knowing of available marketplaces—though Zainal now had a novel idea about that little problem.

“And what about more coffee?” Kierse asked plaintively.

“You have enough beans to last awhile,” Zainal said with no sympathy.

“And then?”

“Kapash has the rest of my beans,” he suggested helpfully, and waved farewell to the man, standing in the middle of the aisle in front of their stall, looking bereft, as he hurried off on his next vital errand of the day before someone else detained him.

When Zainal got to the market manager's office to pay Eric's rental on a better stall situation in the first square of the market, Kapash's haughty assistant announced that Manager Kapash was too busy to see to any minor details, but he was quite willing to write out the lease for the space Zainal wanted and give a receipt for it and Eric's “office.” Zainal was relieved not to see Kapash again but he would have liked to have been an insect on the wall when Kapash discovered that he would be responsible for reimbursing the merchants (perhaps with the coffee beans he now owned) for their losses from the burglaries of their supposedly safe lockups. Since Eric had so many prominent clients, including Ladade, who had no use for Kapash, he felt the aggressive dentist would have no trouble, and probably take pleasure in, contending with Kapash if the man was stupid enough to contest a lease signed by his own assistant. Eric was smart enough to make use of Ladade's patronage if needed. Ferris wanted to stay, and Zainal was half-tempted to let him, except that Ferris's light-fingered ways might also make things awkward for Eric.

Bazil and Peran had learned valuable lessons here, but not the ones young Catteni—especially Emassis—should acquire. Brone now had them well in hand and actually liking their lessons. Perhaps, Zainal thought, this venture had primed the pump for a return even if this first visit had not been such an overwhelming success in itself. Although, in some respects, they had achieved more than
they had had any right to expect: he had the all-important information that would be of benefit to Botany and his goals. There were other options now for how to proceed.

And he had another idea that might solve all their problems soon, if not immediately. He wished he could think of a reason to go forward with the plan right now to give the Botany group the resources to buy up everything they had come for, but acting too quickly might cause more problems than it solved. As wise to give the diffident merchants a little time to regret missing the chance to empty their warehouses of useless products. Do them no harm.

Besides which, he thought with humor, they had to leave soon or the bananas would be overripe. Kris had her heart set on producing them at Botany. She had been much relieved to know that, although Kapash's men had taken all the remaining bean sacks in the hold, they had overlooked the beans in the roaster. Kris was glad for anything that diminished the benefit to Kapash of her trumped-up “ransom.” There would be some beans for Botany as well as bananas.

“We shall get coffee plants the next time we're on Earth,” Zainal told her, to cheer her up. “I think I remember that someone on one of the plantations told me that the plants would travel well and could adapt to new environments as long as the temperature and the rain were correct.”

“We are going back to Earth, are we?”

“I've got data for folks to figure out which slave ship went where, and who among the missing might still be located wherever they were sold,” he assured her.

She gave a little shudder at how close she had come to being another name on those lists. “And we've loads of merchandise to ease the current shortages.”

“And we did get the most updated register from Vitali, along with the air charts,” Zainal said, nodding toward the worktop where he kept such things. Then he leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head.

“Why are you grinning, Zainal?” Kris asked, suspicious of such good humor.

“I think I have justified a short detour I want to make on our departure.”

“Detour?” Kris repeated, mystified.

His grin widened. “As Chuck said, the best place to hide something is right out in the open.”

“What?”

“I won't say because I could be wrong . . .”

“Who are you trying to impress now?”

“I want to show Botany more results than we've had.”

“I don't think we've done that badly,” Kris said encouragingly. “Sally said we got the most profit on the coffee beans—”

“Since they cost us nothing—”

“Apart from two lift platforms . . . and we do have a range of comm sat parts, the tires, the batteries and spark plugs—though they're for Earth, aren't they?”

Zainal nodded.

“So you intend to go back to Earth, just for coffee beans and the plants?”

“And possibly to find someone with enough experience to manage a Botany coffee plantation and bean warehouse.”

“And the roasting,” Kris said firmly. “I don't think I quite got the hang of it.”

“But Floss saved the beans for us.”

She flushed but managed a tentative smile for him, “Yes, but it isn't something I planned to do. I still have a score to settle with that smirking Kapash.”

“Oh, last night was a good way to settle that score, dear heart,” he said, pushing himself up out of the chair. On his way out of their “office,” he gave her a warm kiss. “I wonder if Brone ever had to visit the junkyard.”

She stared after him.

•   •   •

THEY RECEIVED PERMISSION TO CLEAR BAREVI port the next morning, with Kathy, a willing but slightly
nervous pilot, handling the disengagement of the docking clamps, easing the KDM into the traffic heading out for the space station. When they had passed the space station with an “all clear” to proceed, Zainal motioned Kathy out of her seat.

“But I did it right, didn't I?”

“Yes, indeed you did, Captain, but we're making a short detour,” Zainal said and altered the settings so that the BASS-1 veered toward the jumble of waste material in the junkyard. Almost immediately a comm unit buzzed and Zainal answered it.

“You have changed course, BASS-One. Is there a problem?”

“No, I cleared this with your operations yesterday, Captain. We need to see if the junkyard has any spare KDM water tanks. We need one.”

There was an obviously hasty conference at the space station.

“All clear, BASS-One.” Zainal didn't recognize the voice. “You may proceed. Good luck.”

“I hope that wasn't Ladade,” Kris muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

“No, it was not,” Zainal said. “Only the duty officer knew that my flight plan included the side trip.”

“I didn't know we needed a spare tank,” Kathy said.

“I want to see what else is there, in case we do need it, Kathy,” Zainal said, slowing the forward motion of the BASS-1 as they approached the jumbled elements of the junkyard.

“How are you going to find one in all that?” Kathy asked.

“Oh, one of us may spot what we're looking for. See if you can find anything that looks out of place in its company.”

“Say again?” Kathy asked, confused.

“Brone, come to the control room, on the double,” Zainal said on the interior com.

“Yes, Emassi,” was the immediate response. Brone
came with Peran and Bazil, who wedged their boyish bodies into the jump seat next to Kris and strapped in, as they were now in free fall. Kathy had vacated the second officer's position for Brone at Zainal's request but she hung on to the safety rail, not wishing to miss whatever was going to happen.

The loosely spinning objects, some of them sides of battered hulls, twisted structural members, some of them fused together, continued on their intrinsic orbit far from Barevi. Zainal matched velocity and, deftly using his thrusters, inserted himself into the moving mass, adjusting his speed as he edged farther into the swarm.

“Watch the passing parade, crew, and point out anything that looks like it shouldn't be here.”

Peran gave a snort. “How would we know what shouldn't be here?” he asked.

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