Freedom's Ransom

Chapter Three

Everyone at Retreat pretended to be pleased to see Floss, approving the change in the girl from the intransigent, loud-mouthed brat of her first introduction to Botany. She was not overly enthusiastic about the garments produced for her to wear at the stores house. Most of the women had been making their own blouses and dresses out of the fabric and accessories that Kris had brought back from Barevi. Kris had to admit that utilitarian was not the style a girl Floss's age would appreciate, but she was offered fabric to make her own clothing, patterns, and even the use of the one sewing machine that Retreat owned.

"I learned how to sew skins together," Floss said with some con-tempt, "not how to cut and fit them. I wouldn't want to waste good material."

That won her some points with the stores keeper, who was a good seamstress, and Kris saw the two in conversation and hoped some-thing would materialize. A girl in her teens as attractive as Floss would certainly want something pretty and well fitting to wear. Someone did produce a silk scarf for her and she spent time in front of a mir-ror deciding how to tie and drape it-her longing for pretty and be-coming things quite obvious to others in the room.

Beth Isbell offered to trim her hair, which Floss instantly accepted. "You don't happen to have a conditioner, do you? I had to use a very strong soap at Masai camp and it's just ruined my hair."

"We do have an herbal rinse that will help," Beth said. "A local herb but much like rosemary-it brings out the sheen."

"Oh, that would be marvelous. I almost hate touching my hair, it's so brittle and dry."

"It works with mine," Beth said, fluffing out her blond hair, sun-streaked but shiny with health. "C'mon. The shower water should be hot. I'll shampoo and trim it, and it will be much improved."

"Oh, thank you very much," Floss said, showing a genuine warmth and enthusiasm.

"Why did you bring that renegade back?" Sally Stoffers asked in a discreetly low voice when they had left.

"She speaks Catteni and so do that gang of hers." "She's a troublemaker, born and bred!"

Kris turned, almost defensively, to Sally, who also was a Catteni-speaker. "Zainal's option. Remember, those kids survived in the post-invasion turmoil, so they were either very lucky or very clever. Clune, the oldest boy, has negotiated and bartered with Catteni before and we will desperately need that type of experience. How are you at driving bargains?"

"She seems more biddable but she's a flirt, that one," Sally repeated, her tone and expression spiteful.

"Clune will watch out for her," Kris replied firmly and began folding the new clothing that would constitute Floss's improved underwear. She didn't think they would find any purloined clothing in the Barevi stores but perhaps there would be some. The Catteni had been magpies as to what they loaded on board their cargo ships. When she was nineteen, she had wanted to look well dressed at college so she appreciated Floss's lack of interest in long-wearing, sturdy work garments. The scarf would be treasured. She had noticed how Floss had run it through her work-hardened hands, savoring the feel of the silk. A sapphire blue would look very well on Floss, and Kris tried to recall the bolts she had seen, of silk and satin, the last time she was on Barevi. But then, she hadn't had Floss in mind when she'd bought fabric. Well, they'd have a look with Floss in mind while they were there this time. Who knows who would trade fabric for gold? She wished she knew what was most in demand at Barevi. Maybe Chuck could remember something. Gold teeth were simply not enough of an "inducement." What they needed was a real crowd-gatherer: something that even the most conservative of the Catteni would not ignore. Would kill to have!

Leaving Floss in Beth's hands and saying that she could be found in the mess hall, Kris went for a cup of coffee. The work roster, prominently located as one entered the mess hall, listed her as assigned to Zainal's mission with no concurrent duties. Their latest recruits had been listed at the bottom as being part of the Barevi team. She was glad that she didn't have to sign Floss up for mess hall duties-at least not immediately. Maybe by the time they returned from Barevi, Floss would be more willing to take her turn at the less glamorous duties. Even KP would be more appealing than marital duties to an old man.

As she entered the big room, she glanced around and saw Eric, hunched over printouts. She waved at him, indicating a wish to join him and he nodded vigorously. She got her one cup of the rationed coffee, some fresh rolls, inhaling the aroma of the drink and fresh bread. She also wondered how much longer this treat would be avail-able and if they could possibly search out additional supplies, possibly as trade goods since the Catteni had come to appreciate the caffeine hit. How many coffee beans and/or cups of the brew would buy a carton of stolen goods? She wondered, not for the first time, if the merchants had set any value on the cartons of spare parts they were now trying to sell. She had seen such a diversity of goods on display on her last trip. Surely not all of them-toasters and electric frying pans-were viable on Barevi. Much less automotive parts and spark plugs. Well, you never knew what would capture another species' in-terest. Certainly not the Catteni, who now evidently prized coffee, chocolate, and gold caps. Did any of them realize how easily they had picked up Terran vices like coffee? She smiled at the notion of the conquerors corrupted.

She made her way to Eric's table and was cordially greeted, notic-ing that some of his paperwork included maps: maps that showed the destruction of vast areas of New York City.

"I think I might be lucky. The building remains standing," he be-gan, tapping the map. "And there is relatively little damage below Fourteenth Street, where the dental supply house is. What'll we be able to use for barter back on Earth?"

"I think we'll be able to take some wheat with us. Possibly even the rock squats, as fresh food would be appreciated," Kris replied. "There are hunting parties out today to see what they can gather and, from the smell of the kitchen, some are being broiled even as we speak. And I smell fresh bread cooking."

"Now, all we need to figure out is how to hump heavy equipment down eighteen flights of stairs," Eric said with a despondent sigh. "Oh"he smiled at him-"you didn't know that the Catteni have 'lift' platforms that handle that sort of thing quite comfortably?" "No, I didn't, but see me grinning," Eric replied, and he was, his eyes sparkling with relief and humor. "Glad I asked. Those units are very heavy and even with a lot of manpower, getting them down to where they can be loaded was worrying me."

She patted his hand. "Well, fret no more. That was actually the least of our problems."

"What's the most?"

Kris was thoughtful. "Being sure we have the right stuff to trade with the Barevi."

"Count on me, Kris! And, if we can find him, I know another dentist who does splendid work. Also in my building. He has the sort of personality that would deal well with the Catteni. Even as allies, they would be tricky, I suppose." He gave her a shrewd glance.

"Some more than others," she replied, grinning.

"Answer me a question, if it's not out of line," Eric went on, cocking his head to one side. "Why is Zainal seemingly working against his own people?"

"It might look that way, but it was the Eosi that he wanted to overthrow-"

"And did, I understand, with no small effort on his part." His manner was that of someone hoping to be told more than he had actually asked for.

"When he was dropped here as an unwilling colonist-with the rest of us"-her gesture included everyone in the dining room-"he wanted to free his people from Eosi domination."

"He did that," Eric agreed, wanting her to continue to explain a situation she really didn't have an explanation for.

"There were other like-minded Catteni Emassi, remember. He couldn't have pulled it off without their help."

"This Kamiton being one of them?"

"Yes."

"So?" Eric prompted, lifting both arms in a gesture of perplexity. "I think the situation was not as simple on Catten itself and obviously not on Barevi. The Catteni are set in their ways, and Kamiton may have overestimated support from other Emassi. Zainal achieved freedom for Botany and the other enforced colony worlds. It wasn't just Botany that the Catteni dumped people on, you know"

"No, I didn't know," and Eric slightly stressed the last word. "There are three other planets that the Eosi were colonizing the same way.

"Those planets that worked out were then taken over by the Eosi?" Kris nodded. "We were exceedingly fortunate, you know"

"To have someone like Chuck Mitford, you," and he pointed a finger at her, daring her to deny his role, "and Zainal."

"We were lucky," she amended, "to have the right mix of people to work with."

"I like your positive attitude, Kris Bjornsen."

"I dropped, I stay," she replied, with a broad grin, pleased that he was willing to accept Zainal and work with him.

"Is that Botany's motto? I hear it often enough," Eric said. "It's been a rallying slogan as well as a promise, Eric."

Eric glanced around, from the duty roster to the glass doors open-ing outside. "I like the promise! If I could just practice my profession here, I'd stay."

"Don't you have family back on Earth?"

"Nephews; my wife, Molly, was in Florida when the Catteni invaded so I've no idea what happened to her. Her name hasn't appeared on any of the Florida lists of survivors."

Kris touched his hand sympathetically. "Not all the survivors are listed yet, Eric. We'll be picking up the updated lists when we touch down on Earth. One of the goals of this ransom trip is to widen the communication channels so we can find where survivors are-and get back those who were taken."

Eric's eyebrows rose high. "That's a large job to undertake."

"The Holocaust survivors managed to trace their relatives. And we have just as many dedicated folk!"

"Why don't you just relax and raise your kids?"

"I can't." She gave a self-deprecating grin. "Zainal feels responsi-ble, in a bizarre way, and so do I:"

"Responsible for entire worlds? Oh, c'mon now, girl. Be rea-sonable."

"I don't think 'reason' has much place in my feelings, Eric. People who are unreasonable sometimes achieve more than those who are totally rational!"

"Admittedly. Ah, here comes Zainal now."

Kris saw him entering, with his sons and Clime, Ferris, and Ditsy, obviously showing them around. The boys all wore new clothing, suitable to the cooler weather at Retreat, and had packs slung carelessly on their backs or over one shoulder.

She tried to keep Eric at the table but he rose, gave her a little bow from the waist, and, smiling at the approaching group, made his way out of the hall. Zainal waved for her to stay where she was as he took the boys to the serving tables and introduced them to the people on duty. With laden trays, they all converged on her. Zainal thoughtfully brought her an extra cup of coffee.

"The boys don't drink it yet," he said when he saw her expression of doubt. "You might as well enjoy a cup of their ration."

"We must get more coffee, even if instant is all we can scrounge," she said, turning the cup around to get the handle to the left for her to lift. "I see everyone is spruced up." She nodded to the boys as they took seats.

"Boy, this grub looks good," Ferris said, picking up his fork and digging it into a mound of mashed tubers. "Oh, it's not potatoes," he added, both surprised and outraged by the unexpected flavor.

"It's indigenous but not a bad substitute," Kris replied, grinning as he swallowed the big mouthful.

"Hey, it is pretty close! Will we be able to grow potatoes here?"

"I believe so, but we'd have to import seed potatoes, if we can find them. I believe it's high on the list of 'wish' items."

"You got rock squats up north here, too?" Clime asked, slathering a portion on his fork with his knife in the English manner. "Principal source of protein," she said. "They were the main course in the first hot meal we had on Botany."

"Who named it Botany?" Ditsy asked, disgusted.

"We all did. After another colony of transported folk on Earth," she said.

"You mean, Australia?" Ferris asked, wrinkling his nose. "Not very inventive."

"What would you have named it?"

"I dunno," Ferris admitted, and then attended to the task of eating. "I'm not good at naming things."

"We put it up for a vote and everyone had a chance to put forward their names," Kris said, remembering the occasion very well. "Botany won, hands down. A good choice, I think, since it reminds us of a similar experiment that was successful."

"Yes, but that was ex-cons."

"What do you think we were considered?"

"Well, you weren't criminals."

"Most of the English and Irish who were transported to Australia weren't really criminals. There was great poverty at that point in history, and a person could be transported for stealing food to feed his family."

Kris wondered just how many of the present colonists had not finished secondary school or knew even highlights of world history. Maybe evening lectures could be instigated, just to disseminate vital information. Daytimes, there was so much work to be done only the creche kids were being given lessons. She jotted down a little note to herself. Something else to be remembered and inaugurated!

She gave a little sigh. There was never enough time for every-thing, was there? When Zainal gave her a curious stare, she smiled back at him and took a sip of her extra cup of coffee. She wondered if she could make a habit of it: bring the boys with her for break-fast. But that was not the Botanic way: one didn't take advantage of a flaw in a system. If she did, she lost her right to criticize others. Con-science was burdened enough as it was. If Council members didn't toe the line, why should others have to? Transgressions could mount to a woeful state, just as they had elsewhere. One had to show responsibility. Just as Zainal was. Though really, he could carry the bur-den a little too far! However, she could see that someone had to do it, as far as reclaiming needful things was concerned.

Jerry Short paused in the main entrance to the hall, scanned the diners until his eyes rested on her. He waved at her and, excusing her-self, she went to see why he had singled her out.

"Just had a message from Chuck. He's on his way back and he's very pleased with himself," Jerry said, grinning because he had good news to tell.

"Chuck? Oh, that's great!" He'd gone to find out if his elderly cousins, Rose and Cherry Mitford, were still alive. He'd also dropped other Botanists where they could hunt out kith and kin as well as start work repairing damaged infrastructures.

"Knew you'd want to know soon as possible," Jerry went on. "And oh, he said to mention that he'd stopped on Barevi on his way home to pick up a few things."

"Oh, goodness. What's his ETA?"

"Next hour."

"Do tell Dorothy Dwardie, Jerry. She'll want to know, too."

"I thought of her first, actually, and told her on my way here," Jerry said, grinning broadly.

"Thanks. Oh, Zainal will be so pleased. I wonder what Chuck thought to bring back from Barevi," she muttered to herself as she made her way back to the table where the boys had finished eating. "That will save us a lot of time," Zainal said, very pleased with her news. "Especially as he'll be able to give us a report on conditions on both planets. Wonder what he stopped off at Barevi for that would have been important enough for him to detour so far off the direct line to Botany. And how and with what did he pay for it?"

"We should know soon enough. Shall we go meet him?"

"Yes, and show him our newest translators. Union, lads." He signaled for the five boys to follow him.