Freedom's Challenge

Chapter Ten.

"WE HAVE THE PRISONER," SAiD THE Emassi commander, dressed in security uniform.

He jerked his head back at the limp figure, which had been dragged on the knees between two members of the rather strong detail. The slimed skin of the naked captive showed a crisscross of angrily red, raised welts from frequent lashings with a nerve whip, and his legs and arms were bloodied from other wounds.

"Prisoner?" asked the duty Drassi. "I have no knowledge of a prisoner summoned by any Mentat. The convocation is in session," he added as if this was a sacred occasion.

"Mentat Ix has been searching for this man;' and the Emassi stepped back, lifting the drooping head to display a gaunt, half-starved face, "for months. The name, I believe, is Zainal." A smug smile suggested that the name was enough to secure admittance.

"Zainal?"The name was certainly familiar to the Drassi guard and produced an instant conference between him and the other door guard.

"I will inform the Junior Pe. It is just inside."

The door was opened just wide enough to admit the guard. It remained slightly ajar in his haste to deliver his news.

The security Emassi tapped his foot impatiently, sighing. Then he stepped closer to the second guard, raising his right hand as if to muffle his words and the guard leaned closer. A slight breeze crossed his nostrils and he gave a reflexive sniff.

"How much longer is the security going to be…"The security Emassi began conversationally. Then he caught the suddenly convulsing body of the door guard as he fell to the ground. Instantly two of his detail slipped out of line; one dragged the guard off down the corridor while the second stood in his place at the door just as it was thrown open.

The grotesque body of the Junior Pe came out and went straight to the prisoner. It pulled up the head and stared into the grimed and bloodied face.

"Revive him. When he is conscious, tap on the door and bring him in immediately." The Junior Pe's face shone with an awesome light and it washed its hands vigorously in anticipation of the delightful culmination of a long search. It reentered the room. As soon as the panel had closed, the limp prisoner got to his feet unaided, though his breath hissed from stretching muscles and flesh made extremely sensitive by the nerve whip. His dirt- and blood-grimed hands, restrained by Catteni manacles, were oddly cupped together.

"Long enough?" The Emassi asked softly.

"The rest have been deployed.›" the prisoner asked as softly.

"Yes."

"Then let us proceed;' and he stepped back and, as the two guards took hold of his elbows again, he nodded once.

The security Emassi tapped and the door swung outward smoothly, giving the detail a good view of the many Eosi within the long narrow chamber where Eosi faced Eosi. A quick glance showed that there were very few vacant seats. If he experienced relief at the numbers within the room, he gave no hint of the elation he felt. Indeed, his expression was studiously impassive.

"BRING HIM TO ME!" And the Mentat Ix, halfway down one side of the rectangular room, rose to his feet and pointed to the floor in front of it.

The security Emassi beckoned to those holding the prisoner to follow him forward while the rest of his squad stopped at intervals on both sides, trotting beyond the Ix to complete a security cordon, formally protecting the Eosi. The Emassi then stepped ahead and turned to gesture dramatically at his prisoner.

"As you have commanded, Mentat Ix, the chosen who chose not to serve is here. His physical records confirm that he is indeed the Zainal you have searched for."

The Mentat Ix looked down at the figure in front of him, head bowed as if in submission. The Ix towered above the captive, and the triumph of this moment seemed to expand the huge Eosian head.

"Look at me, Zainal," the Ix commanded, its voice rich with an anger that had grown moment by moment over the years since the subsumation of Lenvec.

"At you, Lenvec? Or at the Ix?" Zainal said calmly, as he looked up, not at all the submissive and cowed prisoner. "Do you envy me any longer, brother, that it was I who was chosen? For you have succeeded:'

Then he raised his hands in what appeared to be supplication. The Ix inhaled at such a reaction just as a puff of mist issued through Zainal's fingers, curling up to the Mentat's nostrils. He turned to the Mentat beside the Ix and repeated the puffing of mist.

"What is this?"

The restraints fell away from Zainal's hands. Then, with an energy surprising for one who was rib-gaunt and had been savagely beaten, the former prisoner began squeezing his bulb at the next Eosi who had jumped to its feet and opened its mouth to protest. The other soldiers of the detail, following Zainal's example, were vigorously making use of their bulbs and the startled Eosi, never expecting to be attacked in this sanctum on the security-protected space station, inhaled the deadly mist in their surprise.

Indeed, the long room was soon filled with particles, shining in the brilliant illumination of the room, as they slowly sank to the floor.

The Ix was the first within the room to collapse, its body writhing and arching in agony as the dust it had inadvertently inhaled reached its lungs… reached and filled them with lethal allergens. Others were catching at their throats with despairing hands and reacting with the convulsions that the substance produced in Catteni bodies.

"What is happening?" cried a voice from one of the screens at the end of the room. Not all the Eosi were in the long room but the fourteen who had been unable to attend in person had been viewing the proceedings on a visual com link. "Ix! Pe! Co! Se! Answer, one of you:'

In the long chamber filled with Catteni bodies skewed in the rigors of death, Zainal strode forward and, hands on his bare hips, answered the impatient query.

"These Eosi are dying. We, Emassi Catteni, have executed them for the twenty-five hundred years of exploitation and enslavement, for the heinous crimes you, and they, have forced us to commit against helpless planets. You had better find a new sanctuary for we, the Catteni," and he brought his fist to his chest, "will hunt down and destroy you as we have destroyed these.

There will be nowhere safe for you in this galaxy. Leave it."

He turned his back on the Eosi whose horrified expressions were probably the first honest reactions they had shown in centuries. He heard several gasps at what was an insult to their dignities.

"Are they all dead yet?" Zainal asked, padding down the line of the Eosi who looked more like collapsed bags of shuddering and putrid flesh to the one that had been his brother. The Eosi host that had subsumed Lenvec still retained some of its genuinely youthful, and recognizable, facial appearance.

This was fast turning to a viscous mess and to the size of the original host before subsumation. There was so little of Lenvec left even after the short time the Eosi had inhabited it. But enough to have waged a stupid and futile war against the planet which sheltered Zainal.

"I think that does it;' The Emassi security officer said, tipping back a helmet to reveal Kamiton, a mightily relieved Kamiton. "I didn't think we'd bring it off. I really didn't:'

"I always knew it was the only feasible way of eliminating them all," Nitin said, stepping around a slow-moving rivulet of varicolored fluids.

"We didn't," Tubelin remarked, pointing toward the screens, some already blank.

"Those fourteen will be scrambling to leave. They do not have enough power to regain command," Zainal said. "Now, all we have to do is get out of this level. The sooner the better."

He moved toward the door-staggered would be more accurate since his emaciation and the nerve whip welts were real, if the wounds were somewhat exaggerated by dramatic additions of blood and excrement.

Leaning against the wall, he shook the bulb that had been secreted between his "force" bracelets.

"Who has the stuff?" He looked around, one shoulder resting against the wall.

"I do," and Kasturi came forward, holding out the flask and the little tundish with which he carefully added the lethal dust to Zainal's innocuous-looking device.

"Better do it all round," Kamiton said, "while we're where we can't be observed."

Tubelin shook his head. "Even with nose plugs, the stench is awful.

Will the doors keep it out long enough?"

"Call the other guard in;' Zainal suggested.

Nitin was nearest and, opening the door enough to see the real guard, beckoned him in. The smell wrinkled the man's nostrils but he was too well trained to show either revulsion or hesitation. He had time to take in the scene of the mass execution. In fact, he caught his breath in astonishment and terror. And that was sufficient to inhale enough of the free dust particles in the air of the long room to ensure his demise.

Quickly, the detail assembled outside again.

"You did it? I can smell you did it;' their bogus guard said, touching his nostrils to make sure his nose plugs were in place.

"Anyone passed by.›" Zainal asked, and their colleague shook his head, looking relieved.

"Then let's get out of here;' Kamiton said, settling his helmet correctly on his brow. He looked about as the security detail formed up and nodded as Zainal resumed his inert posture between his "guards." He had no trouble at all assuming an expression of intense and smugly self-congratulatory pride as he led his detail back the way they had come.

The dissidents were by no means in the clear yet. Anyone with some urgent message for a Mentat could arrive in that corridor. The absence of guards at the door would be the first thing noticed and then, undoubtedly, the presence of an incredible putrefying stench would seep into the corridor.

Since this was a space station, there were devices all over that should detect unusual alterations in air circulation.

On the space station, down on the planet and across Catteni-occupied space, other dissidents awaited news that the execution had been successful.

There had been enough to secure the most important Eosi installations.

Once deprived of orders, many other Catteni would be so totally confused that they would not protest Emassi rulers. They had been trained too well to operate on orders and not on their own initiatives. As Zainal had said, there might not be that many Emassi dissidents but most of them were in critical positions, or could assume them. One of their number ranked high in the security section, and he had deftly changed assignments on the station to include more rebels, as well as preparing himself to take control of the space station if the executions were successful. He could do only so much until he knew the coup achieved its prime objective.

It was Ugred, in the central communications and security section of the station, who could then send the coded message to those waiting to hear, and act upon it. On receipt, those who had waited almost a lifetime would go into action and initiate actions that would forever end Eosian domination.

First, they had to escape the station before loyal Catteni discovered the deaths and, in turn, eliminated the perpetrators. The Emassi in control could do only so much to assist the dissidents. And it would take time for the others to complete their takeover.

THE FIRST SIGNAL was the return of the prisoner detail.

"Was the Ix finally satisfied?" a High Emassi fleet officer asked, pausing to watch the prisoner dragged by, leaving a trail of blood.

"The Ix went into spasms again;' Kamiton said smugly. He had to swallow against the nervous laughter inside him at the so accurate remark.

"What'll happen to him?" The Emassi nodded down at the prisoner.

Kamiton barked an unpleasant laugh. "You know the games Eosi will play with those who displease them. I am glad I can hand him over;' and Kamiton pointed to the floor, "to the cells. He's got until the convocation ends."

With a suitable bow to an Emassi of superior rank, Kamiton curtly gestured for the detail to move forward again, across the main corridor of the space station.

If his glance took in the high-security window of space station control overlooking this space, it was more part of a general survey than a signal.

He did settle his helmet more securely on his head as he crossed to the gray shaft that would take his detail and its prisoner to the lower levels.

Reaching the appropriate level, the detail marched along, still dragging its prisoner, down the corridor and to the ship bays that ringed this level of the station, the security Emassi paid no attention to others going about their duties.

They reached their destination. Kamiton tapped in the security code for the locked room, and he curtly beckoned to the two carrying Zainal to bring him through first. The others hastily filed in. As soon as the panel closed, Zainal was swung up on his feet. Kamiton passed him moist towels to clean off the blood, grime, and also the slime, which was actually an antihistimine cream to protect him from the lethal dust. Kasturi peeled off some of the multiple nerve whip welts-carefully-since the first layer was genuine. Tubelin washed down his legs, while Zainal did his own arms: both used some degree of care for the gouges and slices that were visible were also genuine, if realistically enlarged. Nitin was opening a cabinet and taking out the Drassi security uniform and passed the helmet to Zainal. The erstwhile prisoner quickly inserted into his now clean cheeks the pads, which Sandy Areson had made for his first impersonation. He pulled off the unkempt wig, wincing as the glue stuck to the skin of his forehead a moment, revealing a properly trim Drassi hairstyle underneath. He put his legs through the trousers, his arms through the tunic, stood first on one leg while a boot was pushed on and tied and then on the other for the second boot to be shoved on his foot.

The change had been achieved in seconds. No one would have suspected a delay of any kind as a detail marched out of that antechamber and toward the shuttle on which they had arrived.

"You got a reward?" asked the Emassi in charge of that section of the hangar deck, intercepting their path to the officially marked security shut tle.

"I expect to be honored at the next official ceremony," Kamiton said, swelling his chest. This was quite truthful, as Kamiton's reward was the command of the planet.

"You did well, Emassi;'

Kamiton merely nodded as Zainal, posing as an alert Drassi, opened the shuttle door so his officer could enter. The rest of the detail-and the hangar section Emassi didn't think to count or he would have come up with the wrong number for patrol strength-filed in. The hatch slid closed and was locked on the inside and the hangar Drassi waved them off, opening his com link with hangar control to assure the security guards that all was in order for the departure of this shuttle.

KRIS MANAGED TO KEEP GOING though the days seemed even longer and the nights were even more dangerous with her longings for him. Until she began to do silly things in her assigned duties, like garbling messages on the com unit. Or weeping over Zane when he had only a scratched knee, not a broken leg, and Sarah had to pinch her sharply to end the incipient hysterics. Dorothy Dwardie suggested a mild sedative. Even in the daze, which seemed to surround her during the long weeks, she did notice that someone was nearby: Sandy, Sarah, Dorothy, and occasionally Peggy and Marge. The presence of ex-Victims among her watchers afforded her a little private amusement: the caret being cared for. But she hadn't the energy to smile over the irony. Dorothy's presence was soothing, especially after Kris surfaced out of her self-absorption sufficiently to realize that Dorothy was probably suffering, too. Chuck had been seeing a lot of the psychologist but, as Dorothy was somewhat of a private person, Chris wasnt at all sure if the "seeing" went both ways.

"I apologize, Dorothy," she screwed up enough courage to say one afternoon when she was assigned to help Dorothy teach the orphans some basic R's.

"Why? You're doing a very good job, you know:'

"Not of handling my emotions."

"Oh?" Dorothy smiled kindly at her. "You're very Human, Kris, and this is a very trying time for you."

"And you, too?"

"Me?"

Kris thought for a moment she had exceeded propriety, but then Dorothy flushed and turned her face away.

"You have the right to be worried about Chuck. I am, too, when I stop being selfish enough to realize that he's in jeopardy as well."

Dorothy looked down at her hands, which picked at a frayed seam in her coverall. "There's nothing been said… I mean, I do like his company.

In fact, he's a surprising fellow. All that ruggedness, and he's not bad-looking either, though not the sort of man I'd say was my type…

Kris managed a wry smile. "Chuck's not what he appears to be."

"No;' and Dorothy gave a wistful sigh, "he's not. Yes, Dick?" And her tone abruptly altered to her professional manner as one of the orphans held out his slate for her to correct.

That ended that exchange of confidence but it was Zane who pulled her out of her depression. It upset him terribly to see Mommy in tears when he asked where Daddy was. So he stopped asking and that made her heart ache even more. When she realized that he had stopped asking, she began to tell him tales about Zainal every evening as she put him to bed. He liked those stories a lot more than the ones she read to him. Relating their first explorations together helped Kris get a grip on herself. It also made the missing man not half as "missing." The discreet observation tapered off and people were nice to her in whatever jobs she was assigned to do.

Not too nice, for she would not have tolerated condescension from Janet or Anna Bollinger. Those two must be secretly delighted with her situation: "only what she deserves, carrying on like that with a… Catteni male."

So as the days dragged into a week and the weeks to the month, and then days beyond that elapse of time, she became almost inured to his absence and refused to believe that his absence would be permanent. Zainal would survive as he had survived so much: such as the flitter crash he had walked away from the day she first met him. She clung, also, to the rationalization that because they had been so close emotionally as well as physically, she was certain that a lover's prescience would have subconsciously known he had died. She really didn't think she was assigned most frequently to com desk duty in the bridge because she could translate Catteni messages.

She decided even Ray Scott had a heart after all. She might even be the first to hear his voice. But there was little enough chatter via the com sat. Amazingly little. But this was as close as she could get to Zainal, wherever he was and whatever he was doing.

She was asked to sit in on all the Council meetings, so she forced herself to listen to what John Beverly could report. Dystopia had been very grateful for the supplies and so had NoName. Beverly had brought back a delegation from each planet, and they had been welcomed. If there were ironic comments from some who envied Botany its advantages, that was the luck of the draw. Of course, they wanted to know every detail about the Farmers, saw their machinery in action on the big continent, saw what had been contrived of the parts, and envied the Botanists their Bubble which awed them, one and all.

None of them spoke Catteni or even Barevi, and some of those on NoName eyed the Deski and Rugarians with suspicion. (John said very little in those meetings about the inhabitants of Doradoat least until the KDM took the visitors back with more supplies and equipment, which Botany felt it could spare.) When Laughrey and his crew set off to return the visitors to their respective planets, he told the Council that Dorado was off his list. He had been proudly told how all the ET's had been killed, generally as soon as possible after they had been dropped.

"Seems that the 'aliens' had been killed because they were 'different' and not mentioned as God's creatures anywhere in the Bible," John said. "And I won't say I got the courtesies my rank can expect. In fact, they ignored me whenever they could, but my crew wouldn't let 'em, thank God:'

"Let's cancel them out of consideration then, shall we?" Jim Rastancil said and tore up the sheet headed DO,ADO. Others did the same and Kris felt a small twinge of satisfaction break through the numbness that she carried around with her.

She had to, in her capacity as Emassi in charge of the refugees, visit them in their valley. Mostly she listened to complaints about their lack of amenities, the need for additional clothing since none had brought sufficient with them. She supplied them with Catteni ship suits, which appalled Milista. She also supplied them with needles and thread as most of the women, and certainly the children, would swim in the standardized garment.

Sarah made her include some lengths of fabric since the last "shopping" trip had brought back great rolls and bales found in a warehouse.

Sarah had included a child's sewing book with sufficient illustrations to give even the Catteni women useful instructions.

Sandy Areson had done an inventory on supplies in the mess hall and came back, looking both exasperated and amused.

"They've been living off the ration bars of which there are none left."

Sandy shook her head. "As useless a bunch as I've ever seen."

"I could cook for them," Bart said who'd volunteered to come along on this "light duty."

All three women pounced on him.

"No way, Jos!" Emassi Khriss said. "But who knows enough Catteni to teach them how to cook? And it has to be female. I'm not going to let them know that Human males can and do cook."

"Zainal makes a mean grilled rocksquat," Sarah said and then flushed, having inadvertently reminded Kris. "Sorry, luv;'

"I wish you would all stop pussyfooting around the subject of…

Zainal. But we can't return starved women;'

"Ha! None of them are starved, and the kids at least are playing," Sandy said.

"Only the younger ones," Kris pointed out.

"Maybe we should send the older ones down to keep Bazil and Peran company in the Maasai camp," Bart suggested.

Kris considered that. She had even considered bringing the boys up to the valley. But… she didn't have that authority yet… and hoped she really wouldn't have to deal with that pair. Well, Chuck would be handling them as "males"-if Chuck got back. She found her hand halfway to her belly and drew it back. No sense in giving anyone any more to talk about.

"What about making Janet teach 'em?" Bart said, his eyes twinkling.

"It'd be her Christian duty."

Kris burst out laughing and almost went into the weeps because she'd let go of the rigid command she'd been exercising on herself. Sniffing and wiping at her filled eyes, she plastered the grin on her face after the initial and genuine outburst of laughter. The others looked so pleased with her reaction.

"Now that was plain mean of you, Bart Tom/," she said. "I just wish I had the nerve to order it."

"I think," and Sandy cocked her head at Kris, "you could just about order Ray Scott to jump rope with those kids and he'd do it."

"Beth Isbell cooksoes a lot of the pastry in the hall, at least-and she's a Catten/speaker," Sarah said. "Let's check in and see if she'd take the duty on. I think we'd better leave Bart and a couple of other men here to be sure she's safe;'

"Why should we fuss over them, if they're so stupid they even let the fire go out," Raisha asked, pointing to the chimney. She'd come aft from the bridge with Joe Marley to find out how long they'd be on the ground.

"Zainal," and Kris didn't hesitate on his name, "promised to keep them safe and that means keeping them fed, too, so they don't have a real complaint to lodge against our hospitality. And dothed. Some of us had to learn to do basic things when we got here. I'll go check in and ask;'

"None of us were lords, or ladies, of all we surveyed either/' Raisha said, and then sighed. "But you're right. Why should we fault them for ignorance when all of us are ignorant of something or other that we've never had to do before."

Sally Stoffer agreed to accompany Beth who was a good friend. Sally liked to sew, was teaching some of the older orphans, and her Catteni was excellent. Lenny Doyle, Dowdall, Bart, three ex-soldiers from the last drop, and Patti Sue returned and set up tents for themselves and the three female instructors.

And that minor hiccup was smoothed over. Not that the Catteni women were pleased to be forced to do slave work. The three soldiers instructed the older boys on how to catch fish from the stream. They'd been sitting around doing nothing since they were old enough to have started some sort of training for their 1ife's work. They were happy enough to form a small detail and marched up and down. Their mothers also seemed happier to have them occupied.

"I don't say I'd ever want to eat what they cook/' Beth said when they returned, "but at least they can now build a fire, open a can or unscrew a jar, make what they call 'bread,' fry fresh fish which they do like, by the way.

One of them will make a good seamstress. At least she figured out how to take in the ship suits. The rest were happy enough to wear something new even if they did have to learn how to sew up the edges to keep the lengths from fraying. Who would have suspected that Catteni women would wear sarongs?"

"Makes most of them look like boxes," Sally said, grinning. "Even the ship suits have more shape."

"The Catteni women sure don't," Lenny remarked with a wry grin.

THE shuttle reached Cattens atmosphere and dropped speed quickly, homing in on the main government buildings. It hovered over the roof, though a surveillance guard ship instantly appeared to inspect it, recognized the security markings on the shuttle, and retired without questioning its presence.

"There is something to be said for protocol," Kamiton said with a grin. He was now attired in a fresh Emassi uniform, smartened with tabs of the highest rank available to Emassi. "Have Tiboud and Valicon reported in yet?"

"Just got their signals now,"Tubelin said from the com desk. "They're in position."

"Tell them to proceed," Karoitoh said coolly, knowing that several more unsuspecting Catteni who were dedicated to their Eosian masters would shortly be dead. He turned to the others, checking to see that his former security detail were now all dad in uniforms similar to his. It amused him that all members of the prisoner detail had been rewarded with major steps in rank. "We all know how to proceed." He checked the nose plugs once more and then indicated to Zainal, in the pilot's position, to land.

He gestured for the others to precede him before he turned once more to the pilot.

"Good luck, Zainal. I'Ll keep you informed."

"You had better. I need to return your families. They will undoubtedly tell you how mistreated they were on Botany."

"Of that I have little doubt for they have been accustomed to luxuries not available on your home planet."

Zainal answered Kamitoffs rueful smile with one of his own.

"Go finish the business, Kam."

Kamiton stiffened then and gave Zainal not only a salute but also the low bow that indicated great respect. He jumped off the ramp and Zainal shut the hatch.

Zainal swung the shuttle away then and flicked on the com unit to wide range so he could hear what was going on… and know when the shock hit the sleeping planet.

Nitin might be a pessimist but he was also a realist and they would be following his plan of reconstructing their world, and the worlds the Eosi had once dominated.

They had not been able to get a dissident into a prestigious position on Earth, but he rather thought that once the news was out, the Terrans would double their efforts to regain control of their own planet. Nor were there sufficient colleagues on the various fleet elements to take control of the AKs or some of the great H-class, but Catteni were so accustomed to being told what to do and how, that Kamiton's forceful manner, the backing they did have, should eventually result in capitulation. Surely no Cat-teni had enjoyed the Eosian domination even if many, singly or in family groupings, had benefited by their loyalty to entities they had never before attempted to supplant.

Often enough during Zainal's flight to the main security landing field did he have to shield his eyes from the spotlights of other guardian vessels.

But the purloined ship did have the right markings and permission to be aloft in night hours. Zainal put the vehicle down at the edge of the force-field-protected landing area.

He rose, stiffly, hissing against twinges from the nerve whip. That had been a necessary ordeal, as had his starvation on the way to Catteni, but he had to look the part and whole-skinned and fat would not have been credible.

His knees hurt from all the dragging but at least that posture had allowed him to keep his head down and his eyes closed as he faked unconsciousness.

Now, all he had to do was find Baby, which should now bear the security markings of yet another authorized vehicle. He had to stride out purposefully and each heel jarred the various tormented parts of his body, from the scratches to the long welts of the nerve whip. Kasturi had not struck as hard as he might have done to a real offender but hard enough. Whippings endured from his father had been lighter. His stomach ached with hunger and, by the time he passed the first rank of unlit ships on the pavement, his mouth and throat were parched. He took time to drink from the flask he had brought with him from the ship, first swirling the water about his mouth and letting it trickle down his throat. Then he took the stimulant from his pocket and, with a big swallow of water, let that go to work in his empty belly. He'd have food soon enough. Fourth rank east, Chuck had said, second ship. Chuck had managed that discreet parking but it was a long way from first rank west.

He walked inward now, shielded from casual notice from the parked vehicles, made it past a wide turning circle and on toward the distant fence and fourth rank. He had to lean against the side of the scout to catch his breath. At least there was a light on inside it to reassure him that this was right. He tapped out the code on the door to alert them to his arrival.

The hatch opened immediately.

"Keep back, dammit, Bert," Chuck said and the Australian vanished from the brightly lit hatch. Chuck was down the steps, instantly supporting the sagging body, his eyes wide and then closing in relief as Zainal's nod as well as his presence told Chuck that, so far, all had gone smoothly.

"We've got to get out of here, and fast," Zainal said, striding back to the scout.

"Yeah," Chuck said, his voice unsteady with relief as he helped Zainal up the short flight to the hatch, "it ain't over 'til the fat lady sings;'

"What fat lady?" Zainal asked, realizing that the sergeant had answered him in English as he made his way forward. "Why a fat lady?"

"Explain later;' Chuck closed the hatch with a clank. "You got 'em? All of 'em?" Chuck persisted with his questions as Zainal made a slow way to the pilot's compartment. Bert was now in the other chair, having let Chuck help Zainal.

They'd had the harder job, Zainal knew, waiting without being able to use the com unit for fear the position of the scout ship might be discovered.

"We got all but the fourteen who were not present;' Zainal said, noting that a course had already been laid in, preparatory to his arrival. He nodded approval at Bert, who was completing the last of the pre-flight checks. "They are unlikely to remain where they are. They're too scattered to unite. In any event, once the news gets out, they may decide to leave the galaxy as we suggested. Coded messages should have gone out from the space station to our other colleagues who are waiting for our signal. Kami-ton got to the center before the execution could be broadcast…" He shrugged and grimaced at such an unwary and painful action. "If it has. Or Ugred has managed to give us more time by deferring an announcement.

Otherwise we couldn't have landed at the building. But we were able to.

Kamiton gave the word and those who could not be trusted have been eliminated by now. But let's get out of here. Just in case."

"Too right;' Bert Put said. "Strapped in, Chuck?"

"Only after Zay gets something into his belly;' Chuck said, thrusting a ration bar over Zainal's shoulder.

"I need that," Zainal said and tore off the wrapping, taking a huge bite.

"Clear us from the field, will you, Chuck?"

And the sergeant leaned across to the com board. They had to wait for a reply.

"They're all bored;' Chuck said while Zainal impassively chewed.

Bert was chewing, too, but on his lip as they waited until the line was opened.

"Schkelk," Chuck said in his hoarse Catteni voice, "Emassi has called.

I go. Clearance?"

"Given;' was the bored response and the line went dead.

The ship lifted carefully out of the crowded parking area and turned away from the city.

Having finished his slowly consumed meal, Zainal opened the com link, pausing at the various channels to check on the tone of exchanged messages.

They were, in fact, in space and heading obliquely away from the vicinity of the space station before the first report was aired.

"This is the Supreme Emassi Kamiton, informing you of a change of government on Catten and the execution of eighty-six Mentats and Juniors on the space station which is now under my control. High Emassi Ugred is now commander of the space station…:'

"Supreme Emassi?" Chuck asked, wide-eyed and grinning.

"That is the title he picked."

"What'd Nitin get?"

"Oh, he's speaker for Parliament…:'

peer. Bert said in astonishment.

"You guys don't have a parliament," Chuck protested.

"We will soon enough;'

"You learned a lot we didn't know about on Botany, didn't you?" Chuck replied but his tone was admiring. "Uh-oh, look! Bogies at three o'clock and coming in awful fast. Can't we pile on some speed? We might be able to miss KRIS WAS ON COM DUTY: she had requested the assignment and, except for those weekly visits to the closed valley and the Catteni guests, that had been her duty. Now she didn't even answer Catteni complaints but impassively saw that supplies were unloaded near enough to be easily carried to the mess hall for storage. So, she just happened to have the duty in Scott's office that evening when Ray Scott and Jim Rastancil rushed in.

"What's going on up there, Kris?"

"Up where?"

"Up near the Bubble."

Kris gave her head a little shake, reset the earpiece. "Nothing. Nothing that I can hear since all those coded messages stopped shooting back and forth."

"Well, there's something coming down. Gino says there's some sort of shooting stars. And there aren't any of them in this sector of space, especially not with the Bubble…:'

Ray stopped mid-sentence and rushed outside, Rastancil right behind him.

Kris didn't know whether to stay on duty or join their exodus to see what had made Ray and Jim move that fast. She heard startled cries, some panicky, others, loud and incoherent cheers. Her curiosity roused her from apathy. She abandoned duty and joined the others outside the hangar on the landing field. It wasn't full dark, but the bursts of flame or brilliant light were obvious to the naked eye. The shower-of whatever it was that Gino now said was burning up in upper atmosphereidn't last very long even with several tiny late flashes. What was obvious was that the Bubble was gone. The sky above them was as clear as it had been before the Bubble had been woven into place. One of the moons was even visible, the one on which the Catteni had tried to build a base. Kris gulped, frozen to the spot. Unable to grasp the significance. There hadn't been any more bombardments.

Those had ended just before the surreptitious departure of Baby and the KDL. She strained her eyes, trying to locate any glitter that would be their com sat or even the roving spy satellite the Catteni had placed in the thirty-hour orbit.

Why had the Bubble come down? Were the Farmers about to visit them? But surely they didn't need to remove the Bubble to get in. Or did they?

Ray gave her a little shake. "Back to your post, Kris. Tell us what you can hear?"

"But there's nothing up there. The Bubble's down. How could the Eosi dissolve it…"

Now Ray gave her a shove toward the hangar. "Tell us what you can hear. We need to know if the com sat's still operating."

Kris didn't ask how she could tell from just listening to static. Or maybe that, in itself, was proof the com sat was still operating? But it had been connected to the Eosi array that had been sheered off their ship in its attempt to exit. Surely, if what they'd seen burning up in the atmosphere were the bits and pieces dropping now that the Bubble no longer held them in place, everything would come down. No, no, that wasn't quite right. Pete Snyder had told them that the com sat was independent, with vanes trapping solar power so that it functioned all by itself. But, what about what it had been attached to? She had this vivid image of an umbrella with a crooked handle, the rain shield pointing downward and the crooked handle pointing out toward empty space.

Ray now hauled her with him back to the office and then took up the earpiece himself, frowning as he listened. Jim Rastancil, Gino Marrucci, and the others who had been in the hangar office stood about, anxiously waiting for his report.

"All! get is static;' Ray said, handing the earpiece to Kris who put it on and sat down, listening to the same sort of static, which might be very faint messages. "So it is still up and functioning. Nevertheless, Gino, get a skeleton crew and the KDL up to check."

"With the Bubble gone. ncmo s normally swarthy skin paled.

"Yes, damn it. To see if it's gone. We've got to know what action to take if it is. That is, unless the Farmers vouchsafe to give us some indication that we don't need it anymore."

Kris held up her hand. "I'm getting something…:'

"Look!" And Jim was pointing to the bridge screen, which showed the moon that was coming up, and a small sparkle that couldn't be debris since it moved with astonishing speed on a steady, inward-bound direction.

"Oh, my God;' and Ray's voice was an awed whisper. "Have they been watching all along?"

"Does it mean that Zainal succeeded?" Jim Rastancil asked.

For the first time in her life, Kris fainted.

SHE CAME TO, lying on the cot in Ray's spartan accommodation at the hangar, with a folded towel on her forehead. She could hear male voices beyond the open door. Carefully, hoping the attack of vertigo had passed, she sat up, holding the towel in place as it felt good on her forehead, and swung her legs over the side of the cot. However did Ray get a decent night's sleep on this thing? Then memory flooded back, and she whimpered.

An anxious Ray Scott was instantly beside her. "Sorry, Kris."

That was when they both felt the almost electrical tingle that they had experienced before.

"We need more than that," Ray shouted, raising a fist above his head in challenge.

But that was all they got, and everyone they checked with over the next half hour confirmed the sensation. The Council called a meeting of its main members in the hangar as soon as they could get there. Fortunately a good deal of Retreat's population was asleep and might even have been oblivious to the mild shock. Others called in, having seen what they thought were "shooting stars:' Blandly, Gino had agreed that that's what they were.

Few realized that the Bubble was gone, and Ray thought a general announcement could wait until the Council could figure out what to do.

Dorothy Dwardie took the chair next to Kris at the end of the table.

The psychologist had been studying notes on her day's clinical sessions with some of the more unresponsive orphans when she'd felt the tingle. Unusual enough a sensation to make her want to find out if anyone else had experienced this phenomenon. She wasn't far from the infirmary so she opened a com link to the duty officer at the infirmary who had just been told to inform Leon Dane of a special meeting at the hangar. Dr. Dwardie ought to go, too. She was Council, wasn't she? And, yes, she'd felt the tingle, too.

It had happened once before that she knew of. Then she excused herself to answer another message. No sooner had Dorothy closed the link than she was buzzed, and hurriedly informed that she was needed at the hangar.

Walking down from her cabin, it took Dorothy a few hundred yards to realize that she could see the stars. Then the moon came shining through a gap in the lodge-pole trees. She ran the rest of the way to the hangar. She arrived breathless and took the first available seat, which was beside Kris.

"The Bubble's down?" she murmured, and Kris nodded without looking directly at Dorothy.

Then everyone heard the unmistakable sound of a ship taking off, and the brilliance of the propulsion units in the darkness of the landing field made them cover their eyes.

"Who's going where?" Dorothy softly asked, trying to squelch a feeling of anxiety.

"Checking on the com sat. Everything else up there came down in a shower;' Kris said.

"I felt the oddest tingle, like an electric current running through me," Dorothy added.

"The Farmers do that now and then. Counting noses," Kris replied.

"The Farmers? Have we had a message from them after all?" She leaned toward Kris, having just realized that Kris sounded very subdued. "You look awfully pale." She paused a moment, blinked as she came to a logical conclusion.

"How would the Farmers know we don't need the Bubble anymore?

If that is the case, then your Zainal succeeded?"

just then Ray Scott's characteristic calm deserted him, and he banged his fist on the table.

"How the hell can we construe a reassuring message from one goddamned short tingle!" he said in a loud, frustrated voice to Judge Iri Bem-pechat beside him. "Are they so goddamned busy monitoring the rest of the universe that we don't qualify for an explanation?"

Judge Iri Bempechat raised a gentling hand. "The message, I would think, is clear. We no longer require the protection of the Bubble. They've done a planet-wide search and counted noses again. It is my opinion that we should be grateful for what they have done, instead of--if I may be allowed to use the vulgar expression bitching about it:'

"The Judge is right;' And Kris rose to her feet, having heard all the wrangling and speculation she could stand. Not even the calm Dorothy had been oozing in her direction had helped. "And it took the Bubble away because Zainal and the others succeeded in… doing whatever they planned to the Eosi:'

"JUST…;' Ray raised his voice above the immediate babble of comment, "in case, I want the crews of all the other ships standing by and ready."

"Why?" Dorothy asked, almost amused. Obviously that was what an ex-admiral immediately thought of as appropriate. "There're too many of us now to be evacuated and where would we go?"

"Earth, of course," Geoffrey Ainger said, disgusted with her obtuse ness.

"I dropped. I stay," Kris said and walked out of the meeting.