Freedom's Ransom (9 page)

“It will, it will. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Douglas,” Zainal said, pumping his hand with considerable vigor. Kris had to fight to keep her face straight.

“I'm apt to be slow with the really technical stuff, but ordinary messages are a snap.” He emphasized this by snapping his fingers.

“Lieutenant Mullinax, astrogator, and Lieutenant Mpatane Cummings, also communications, sir, and both are fluent in Catteni. Last but not least, Major Alexander McColl, the most senior pilot.”

“Where on earth did you find them, Chuck?” Zainal asked, though his delight was now apparent.

“There, on Earth, of course, sitting on their duffs, trying to decide if they could find some sort of a job. Airplane fuel is a low priority, you see, consequently most pilots are jobless. Gasoline/petrol is strictly rationed and goes mainly to ambulance or emergency vehicles. What airplane fuel is left in airport tanks goes to search-and-rescue copters, but I hate to see good resources like these sitting idle. You know me.” Chuck gave one of his cryptic shrugs, implying any waste was intolerable. “And they wouldn't sit still long enough to be painted. Besides, I knew we had the birds but not the fliers. 'Course, they'll have to be checked out but they're right willing.”

“Your timing is excellent, as usual, Sergeant.”

“I also brought you two top flight mechanics, Dutch Liendgens and Dirk Fuhrman. They might not know much Catteni,” he added, gesturing for the two men to come forward, “but they sure know their communications
stuff and my ‘friend' at JPL says they'd know inventory, too, for all the big manufacturers—like Teledyne and Motorola—and they also have some clues as to the very high-tech stuff JPL and NASA were experimenting with for the Mars Base. Mainly, they can help us service the KDs.”

“Is the Mars Base still operational?”

“And manned.” When someone behind him cleared her throat, Chuck added, “And womaned. Their gardens have been well wear-tested. Oxygen and food.”

“That'll be good news to spread,” Zainal said.

“The invaders were so smart they forgot to cut the Atlantic phone lines. And, as I'm told, most comm techs managed to hide the more important elements when they realized they were under attack from space. Those units are coming back into use as more power plants come on-line. Hell, in some places, like Kansas, they're using windmills to generate power. Hawaii and California are damned glad they have the wind farms.

“I got a lot more to tell you but maybe we better get the new crews organized, Zainal.”

Zainal slapped Chuck across the back, displaying his delight in this surprise. “Welcome to Botany, ALL of you!” he added, throwing both arms open in the most expansive gesture, his mouth wide in a smile. “This way to Retreat.”

“Retreat?”

“Don't worry,” Chuck said, “it's not a fallback place. It's a come-to.”

“Lead on . . . and our chariot awaits!” Zainal added as Jerry Short arrived, driving the commodious pickup sled.

“Hey, neat, Zainal,” Sam Maddocks said. “Ground transport. Pile in.”

“Pile” was nearly the right word, since all the newly accepted members of the Botany Space Force vaulted or jumped neatly onto the wide truck bed. Kris was hauled up by two of the lieutenants and decided that this bunch were all fit. She wondered if any of them had been
trained in hand-to-hand combat. That would be handy, she thought, especially for the women. Maybe they could teach her some good self-defense moves. She was beginning to feel better about this ransom mission. The Council would have to agree—especially now they had reinforcements. She spotted Zainal talking amiably to the astrogator and the tall, willowy Mpatane comm lieutenant. Then he burst out laughing at something the woman said, which had everyone who overheard reacting with glee.

By the time Jerry reached the main building, someone had warned them because there was a crowd waiting, everyone wanting answers to their shouted questions.

Zainal stood and held up his hands “More reason to be sure you attend tonight's meeting, my friends. Right now, we have some tactics to plan. Okay?”

With some reluctance, the crowd was dispersing when Captain Kiznet cupped her hands to shout, “I have new lists of survivors and I will tack them up where you can see.” Immediately people pointed to the duty roster board beside which there was a bulletin board for such notices. “Nineteen major cities in Europe and Asia, and some hometown news from forty-seven towns in the US of A,” she added and was awarded another rousing cheer.

Kris slipped from the back of the load bed to guide the captain into the mess hall and help her put up the sheets with the tacks available. Then she maneuvered the captain out of the crowd that homed in on the new information. Would it ever be reduced to just one or two anxious seekers? Kris wondered. Zainal had given her a sign to bring the captain to the conference room, just off the main dining hall. Grabbing the captain's arm, Kris pushed her way through those thronging to check names into the relative quiet of the private room. She grinned when she saw Dorothy and Chuck hugging each other. There would be plenty of time to introduce him to their daughter, Amy. Right now, he looked as if he'd never let Dorothy go.

Zainal braced himself across the door of the conference room to be sure only the people he especially needed crowded in to see the new arrivals. He sent Peran, Bazil, and Ditsy to get coffee rations and whatever sandwiches might be available at this hour in the kitchen. When Kris was able to take his place after Zainal gave her a hurried list of those he wanted inside, he cleaned off the big blackboard and started slowly printing out headings for discussion. That done, he printed the list of his Catteni translation team. She was pleased to note she headed the list, which included Floss, Clune, Peran, Bazil, the Doyle brothers, Ferris and Ditsy, Chuck, Sally Stoffers, Gino and Mack Dargle, as well as Pete Snyder. He also chalked down the names of the nine new arrivals and she was delighted he had also grasped the spelling of the crew names.

“All right, folks, may I have some quiet?”

But just then, Chuck, holding Dorothy's hand, slipped into the room with the boys and laden trays right behind them.

“Get yourself your cup of coffee and some food first,” Zainal invited, and Kris slipped over to the boys and snitched coffee and a sandwich, which she took to him. He lounged against the nearest table and ate almost ravenously. Then Beth Isbell approached to hand him a clipboard, which he perused while chewing his sandwich. She waited quietly at his side and then Peran brought her a cup of coffee from the tray. She was going to refuse but took it with quiet thanks. Beth was usually punctilious about having only her share though she had once confided to Kris that she was a caffeine addict and the worst problem with being “dropped” was the deprivation of coffee.

Zainal scrawled initials on the first page on the clipboard and extracted what must have been a copy, which he folded and slid into his shirt pocket, before handing it back to Beth. She started to leave but paused to chat with a group.

“Mike just brought in the planet's treasures, and they have them in safekeeping at the hospital,” Zainal murmured to Kris, touching the paper he'd put in his pocket. “We're rich,” he added with a mischievous wink. “Enjoy it while we can.”

“Rich enough?” she asked in a whispered response.

He shrugged. “If we bargain closely enough.”

“I'll shave the hair of anyone who cheats us.”

“Glad I'm on your side, Kris love.” The loving light in his yellow eyes stirred her deeply. She hoped the others would stay in the ship again that night.

Now he stopped lounging and held up his hands. Silence quickly fell on those in the room, abetted by a “shushing” noise.

“I have some better than good news, folks. We do have ransomable items, we do have the services and cooperation of Eric Sachs, DDS, to give all the Catteni gold crowns that wish them, and we do have extra flight personnel to man the other cargo vessels. What is your saying, ‘we're loaded for bear'?” That got an appreciative chuckle. “We're mounting this expedition as fast as we can. Chuck Mitford, as ever resourceful, took a side trip to Barevi on his way back and checked warehouses there to see if they really do have the components we need. He seems to feel that they do. I must abide by the Council's decision in this but we'll know tonight whether or not we have the colony's permission to make off with its valuables to buy back what parts we most need to upgrade and repair our communications systems so we can remain in contact with other worlds. Meanwhile, I need the three KDMs space-worthy, so will those crew members please start the preflight checks NOW.” He waited while various people made their way purposefully out of the conference room. “I'll need food. And any and all rock squats we can acquire between now and tomorrow morning at oh-nine hundred, when I hope we'll have the required permission to take off. As you can see, we have
new faces, recent recruits to the Botany Space Force. Be sure to welcome them—later.

“Dick Aarens, I'll need you to converse with Lieutenants Mullinax, Cummings, and Douglas and those of you here who have had experience with our satellites and communication units. I may be anticipating the Council's decision—”

“I doubt that,” someone remarked, and another cheer resounded. Kris saw Zainal take a deep breath and smile in relief.

“I do thank you for your generous support,” he said with a slight and dignified bow around the room. “I got us all into this spot, and I intend to get us out of it!”

“How the hell do you figure that, Zainal?” Leon Dane demanded as he entered the conference room on the end of that remark.

“Yeah, wasn't your fault the Eosi and Catteni invaded Earth,” Peter Snyder said almost angrily.

“I should have known that the Barevian traders would throw a spanner in the works.”

“You're not a mind-reader,” Peter snapped back. “And you got most of what you wanted, didn't you? Botany and Terra free? And the other enforced colonies? And the end of the Eosi domination of your own people. Why should you continue to carry the burden?”

“I consider myself responsible!” Zainal said firmly.

“You got no reason to, Zainal,” Leon Dane said, his voice carrying over other disclaimers.

“But I
do!
” Zainal replied. “And I can repair that oversight. I intend to.”

“You've done more than anyone thought you would or could,” Kris said defensively.

“Not as much as
I
think I should have or could have.” He made a slicing movement of his hands to make that the end of the argument.

Kris made no further protest, knowing it would be futile, but there were others who were quite willing to deny him guilt. She knew him better, for she knew now that
he was set in his path and nothing would distract or delay him from achieving what he considered his duty and responsibility. Catteni were relentless, if nothing else. She admired that in him, but she'd be glad when he felt he could relax. His sons looked adoringly at him but she knew he wasn't posing for their approval.

“Lieutenant Douglas, did you bring that glossary of technical terms with you? And could we make copies of it?”

“You have a copier?” the dark-haired officer asked in surprise.

“Any number of them who write a fair Catteni hand,” Zainal said.

“In handwriting?” Douglas was dismayed.

“What's wrong with old-fashioned methods?” Zainal imitated someone writing with a pen.

“Nothing except that mistakes in copying are more than probable and some of those terms have to be precise.”

“We have very good typists, Lieutenant,” Kris said. “Not a problem. Beth?” She beckoned to the woman, glad she hadn't left yet. “How many typewriters do we have? And paper?”

“Depends on how much has to be transcribed and by what time.”

“Takeoff tomorrow?” Kris asked, almost wistfully.

“If we can divert some power to the machines, I'll have typists work all night in shifts. Where's the copy?”

“I'll have to get my notes from the ship,” Douglas said, a trifle rattled though he gave a shake as an animal might to settle ruffled fur. Kris thought wistfully of the family cat, which by now was either feral or eaten. “You move with awesome speed, Emassi Kris.”

“We've had to, Lieutenant.”

“Do you have computers here?” He was expecting a negative.

“The best I could find at Barevi the last time I was there,” she said, wishing her tone hadn't been so
defensive. He didn't look annoyed and grinned at her.

“Plenty of RAM and speed, Lieutenant. Kris got only the best and we do have printers,” Beth went on proudly, “but not that much ink. Lordy, we've only just been able to find a source of pulp so our production of paper is still inadequate to the need. You'd think this planet ran on paper.”

“I'd say you were speedy enough for an enforced colony, Miz Isbell.”

“You ain't seen nothin' yet, Lieutenant. May I borrow a land cart to take the lieutenant back to his ship, Kris?”

“Of course.”

“We may actually have enough paper in the stores on board. Ships publish a lot of paper, too, you know,” Ed Douglas was saying as Beth Isbell gestured for him to leave the room with her. “What sort of printers did Kris liberate?”

“Hewlett-Packards, of course,” Beth replied as they made their way out.

“Good for her!” was Douglas's approving reply, and then they were gone.

“I studied typing in high school,” Clune murmured to her. “And I have a good speed and know Catteni so I wouldn't make mistakes.”

“Thanks, Clune, but you may be needed for other priorities. Don't know what Zainal has in store for you and the other boys.”

“Any damned thing he wants, Kris. Some guy!” Clune was clearly in awe. “Ditsy even says so and Ditsy don't waste words, you know.”