Freedom's Landing

Chapter Nine

Jay Greene, Slav, the Doyle brothers, a man she didn't recognize and, surprisingly, Coo, returned by second moonrise. By then Zainal was sweating copiously and she tried to cool him off with the compresses. There was such a lot of him to cool! He was restless but not so energetically that she'd had any trouble keeping him prone. But she was getting more and more worried. Faint slithers had caused her to fear that the scavengers might be bold enough to penetrate the rocky dell. She'd taken to periodic stampings about the small clearing, hoping to scare them away. It was only quiet victims they went after, cowardly as they were.

She nearly cried with relief, though, when she heard her name called. She heaped firing on the little campfire to show the way to them.

"This is Dr Dane, Kris," Jay said, urging the medical man through the thicket. "He's even treated Catteni back on Earth."

"Thank God!' Kris breathed, anxiously urging the doctor to his patient and whipping off the latest compress to show the ugly wound. It looked even worse in the flickering firelight.

"G'day," Dane said in an unmistakably Australian accent, giving her a keen look before he knelt by the patient. "Did a proper job on himself, didn't he?" With deft fingers he pressed the sides of the gaping wound mouth. "Got it all, I'd say. Tough bastards, these Catteni.

Pour the whole bottle in, did you?" and now he grinned at her.

"Fair do."

"It was all I had and it is Catteni issue," she said, noticing that she was wringing her hands.

"Did the right thing, all right." He felt Zainal's skin, placed a hand over the chest and then to the large neck vein. "Not so ragged after all. Right then, let's get him back. Hey, what?" He had straightened up after his examination and saw Coo coming to crouch in the firelight, something in his hand which he wanted to inspect.

The Deski's hand was trembling - with fatigue, Kris wondered, deeply grateful to the alien, in his own debilitated state, for wanting to help an injured Catteni.

- What Coo was examining was the lighter grey crown of a thornbush, the new growth, since vegetation even on this godforsaken planet seemed to follow certain botanical precedents. Then, before she could say anything, Coo had - popped it in his mouth and began masticating with every evidence of enthusiasm and relief. In the act of springing upright, the Deski also turned and, with more energy than he had shown in days, plunged towards the hillside.

"What was that all about?" the doctor asked, in surprise.

"I think Coo's located something to take care of his dietary deficiency," Kris said drolly.

"One man's meat's another's poison," the man replied philosophically. "Now let's get this poisoned boyo back to civilization. Quite a set-up Mitford's organized," he added with approval.

"Good ol' Yankee know-how," Jay said with a grin.

"What about Irish improvisation?" Lenny Doyle said, pretending offence as he unlashed the ties on the stretcher poles "Ya think this is strong enough to hold "im?" Ninety asked, measuring Zainal's bulk against the litter design.

"Those blankets are indestructible," Jay said.

It took all of them, with Kris holding up heavy Catteni feet to get the unconscious Zainal onto the litter. Strips of torn blanket secured him for the arduous journey back to camp.

Kris kicked out the fire, stored the remaining firing into the sack Mitford had given her and followed them.

In the bright light of the big rising moon, Coo was busily, and carefully, plucking the very tops of the thornbushes and stuffing them into the open blouse of his coverall.

"Is that what you need, Coo?" Kris called. "Can I pick, too?"

"Nooco, Coo said, shaking his head emphatically.

"Baaaad for oomans." With one hand he kept fanning the air to reinforce his warning for her to keep back while he kept nipping the crowns with the other.

She tried to recall how many of the newest immigrants were Deski but, suddenly, thinking was beyond her strained and tired mind. She fell in step behind the litter bearers, relieved that her long and ahxious watch had concluded.

When she took her turn as a litter bearer, for she insisted on that, Leon Dane gave her some interesting and oddly welcome news: Earth was fighting back against the Cattem invaders - an evidently unprecedented reaction.

The Catteni method of subduing planets by swooping down and carrying off whole cities of people generally cowed a species totally.

Not so with Terrans. Despite the invasion, resistance began almost as soon as the great Catteni transport ships began loading hostages.

Leon Dane had remained in Sydney, using his position as a physician to relay important information to a very active unit in the Blue Mountains. On orders, he had volunteered to treat Catteni for, despite thick hides, they broke bones and had accidents that would have killed humans.

"If you know your invader's weaknesses, you have a better chance of striking back." He turned a grin on Kris as they moved across the second field. "That was my job.

Unfortunately there isn't much that gets a Catteni down and they seem impervious to any of the Terran toxic materials I tried on "em.

To see the clinical reactions, of course. But, oh my word, but they can mess each other up on their little twenty-four hour vendettas!" He whistled appreciatively. "I spent a lot of time sewing "em up. They don't break easy but they sure do lacerate a treat.

"I guess I'm glad you were willing to help Zainal. He was a victim of one of those twenty-four hour vendettas."

"Was he? And they dumped him in with you lot?" Kris nodded, finding that talking and keeping up her corner of the heavily loaded litter was tiring.

"How'd you get caught?" she asked the doctor.

"Ha! We had orders to riot at a certain time and place and I was sent from my hospital to officiate. I got gassed along with everyone else. The Cats don't ever ask questions.

They're effective that way. But sending one of theirs to colonize " He shook his head in surprise. "Whaddid he do?"

"He'd killed a patrol leader," Kris said. "I watched the pursuit from where I was hiding. "You were hiding?" Kris grinned. "On Barevi."

"Barevi?" He shot her a quirky smile. "Sounds Aborigine."

"Does, doesn't it Catteni Aborigine, at least. Barevi's one of their big distribution and R amp;R planets. Only a couple of big cities and space ports.

Slave-trading's the biggest industry there. And resupply of Catteni ships.

I figured out, from watching the guy who owned me, how to drive one of those little flitters of theirs and appropriated it one evening." She grinned at Leon.

"Managed quite handily in the jungle there until he," and she jerked her head back at Zainal, "dropped in on me. I was taking him back to where he belongs when I got caught in a riot-gassing, too."

"Hmmm.

"He knew a bit about this planet, enough to save a lot of us from getting eaten by those scavengers, or caught by the avians.

"The Cats didn't leave much for us to go on with," he said in a gloomy tone.

"Zainal says that's how they've colonized a lot of places." She shot a look at him and wondered if she'd offend with her next comment.

"Sort of like you Aussies were. We voted to call the planet Botany." "Did you now?" And Leon Dane shot her a startled look but he grinned.

"Well, it fits. Australia - well, the Sydney area at least - was settled by convicts."

"Made a good job of it, too, didn't they?"

"I take the point, Kris Bjornsen. And they had as little as we have.

Maybe less. We at least have a lot of specialists."

"Many aliens?

Deskis, Turs, Morphins, Rugarians?" Leon shrugged. "I was working more on the human injuries. But I noticed some strange-looking creatures m the hospital cave. Stick thin, like the one that came with us to fetch you.

"The Deskis. They're not doing well here. Missing some essential ingredient in their diet."

"Is that why that bloke was picking the thornbushes?"

"Hope so." Then Lenny and Ninety declared they were rested enough to take over. Kris was quite willing to give up her end of the litter, guilty though it made her feel for the rest of the way back to the camp.

Lit by many torches, Mitford, Murph, Greene and Dowdall were still interviewing new arrivals when the rescuers arrived by third moonrise.

In spite of the late hour - or was it early? - there was a great deal of activity and the smell of freshly roasted meats Instead of going into the main cavern, however, the bearers swerved to one of the lesser caves.

"Hospital," Lenny said when Kris wanted to know.

"Quite a set-up now." But there was something about the way he wouldn't meet her eyes that bothered Kris.

"I'll stay with him," she said firmly. "He'll need..

"You…" and Leon Dane prodded her chest with a firm finger, "need rest." In the better light of the torches, she realized that he was a good-looking man in his midthirties, spare as so many Australians seemed to be.

"I'll rest better with…my buddy," and she added that designation with defensive pride. Dane was looking at her now in a way that made her refer to him in that fashion.

"That way, is it?"

"NO! Not that way," she said, fiercely now.

"But I got him into this mess and I'll stand by him."

"Good on you, Sheila," Dane said, and squeezed her arm in approval. "But he'll be tended while you. and he prodded her chest with one finger, " sleep." It was a small cave and anyone entering had to stoop or risk a crack on the skull.

Inside there was more headroom, sufficient even for Zainal when he recovered. She said "when' as positively as she could to herself, though he lay far too still to suit her when his litter was placed on the waiting mound of blanket-covered boughs. There was another bed on the other side of the den and she looked longingly at it. Then turned back to see Dane checking the wound again and Zainal's pulse.

"He'll do. Tough bastard," he said again. "You," and he pointed at Kris and then the bed, "get some rest. I'll check in during the night." He gave her a grin. "Haven't lost a Catteni patient yet." Then, when she did not immediately obey his injunction, he hauled her the step to the bed and pushed her down on the boughs, spreading the blanket over her. "Sleep.

She did, rousing once or twice when she heard movement but it was always caused by Dane, checking on his patient.

When she finally woke up, she stretched luxuriously, knowing that she had slept herself out. But a low moan brought her alert instantly and scrambling to Zainal's side.

His injured leg, bare of covering apart from the compress, was twice its normal size well up into the thigh. The flesh when she gingerly touched it was almost burning to the touch. The compress was dry and clung to the suppurating flesh when she tried to check the wound.

"Oh lordee," she murmured and then banged her forehead on leaving the den. "Ouch!"

"Gotcha, did it?" said Lenny sympathetically, rising from a stool by the entrance.

"What are you doing here?" she said, inhaling against the pain of her scraped forehead. Her hand came away with dots of blood.

"Being careful not to bang my skull open like you just did," he said, grinning. There was that in his quickly averted glance that told her he was there for another reason entirely.

"Was I supposed to leave him out there to die?" she demanded.

"Don't jump on me, Kris, I like the big guy," Lenny said.

"Mitford just doesn't need any trouble."

"Mutiny on Botany, huh?"

"Huh?" Lenny echoed, totally nonplussed by her cryptic remark. "Look," he added hurriedly, "Dane'll be around again soon. Go get some breakfast. I'll be here till you get back.

"It's ridiculous with all Zainal has done for the camp that he has to have a guard - - "Now, look, Kris, I'm not so much a guard as I am a sort of orderly," and Lenny looked embarrassed, "in case he needs help.

You know what I mean?"

"I'm paranoid, I guess," she said, relaxing a little. "Dane said anything about his chances?" Lenny shrugged.

"Didn't ask. I just volunteered. I'm on duty for them, too," he said and gestured to the opening obliquely across the tunnel. "We got a lot of patients. Oh, and that Missus Bollinger had a baby boy while we were gone. Fine big lad." Kris smiled through her sigh of relief.

"That kind of good news is very welcome.

"Don't worry. Mitford's got everyone organized already," and Lenny's grin was mischievous. Then he gave her a little push towards the tunnel entrance. "G'wan. Eat.

You're off duty today, anyway, with your buddy on the sick list." Kris didn't hear any nuance in his use of "buddy' so she relaxed. She could safely leave Zainal in Lenny's charge.

"G'wan," he said, smiling kindly, and gave her a half-turn towards the entrance. "Eat. Bread's getting better now the chemist lads've got a good yeast going." She took her time, peering in at the various units in this "hospital', noticing a lot of unfamiliar faces, some obviously in a good deal of discomfort, to judge by their expressions.

She saw Anna Bollinger, sitting up in her "bed', nursing her infant and would have passed by but Anna saw her and waved her in.

"How's the Catteni? I heard he was badly hurt," she said.

Then added in a hard voice and with a scowl. "How?" From the "doorway', Kris answered, wondering about the change in her voice.

Anna had good reason to be grateful to Zainal. In a neutral voice she said: "On his way to keep people from getting scavengered in the dark, he got a thorn in the calf of his leg and had to carve it out." Anna shuddered. "Ooo, nasty. Give him my regards," and she looked lovingly down at the swaddled mite in her arms. "I'd never have had my baby if he hadn't helped me get here." She sighed. "I'm just glad it was I mean - He'll be all right?"

"Yes, Anna, and thanks for your good wishes. I'll tell him. And thanks," Kris said and strode the rest of the way to the outer ledge feeling that perhaps, after all, she'd been imagining things.

The sundial indicated the time as near Botany's noon and, for a wonder, Mitford was absent from his office, though there were others, busily bending over the desk-stones at their tasks. There were other people, the newest arrivals since she didn't recognize any of the faces, evidently revived enough to take part in the business of the camp. There was also a handful just sitting in the sun, eyes closed: a mixed bag because she could spot some Asians as well as the dusky skin of the East Indians.

Above their heads, tacked to the south-facing wall of the ravine, was displayed a veritable mural of rock-squat hides, indicating the continued prowess of the camp's hunters. How much farther were the hunters having to go to catch enough to feed the multitude now here?

She shivered and not so much because the air felt cool to her despite the sunshine but because she worried about the tactical problems of supply. For instance, would there be enough hides to give everyone a warm coat this winter?

And, if a Botany day was twenty-eight hours long, how long were their months? Years? How long till spring?

How many more loads would the Catteni drop down on this unsuspecting planet? How would they cope with this influx, much less more? She was hungry and that always made her attitude negative.

Sandy hailed her as she came into the cook cavern.

"Hi there, gal, got something just out of the oven for the likes of you."

"The likes of me?" Kris said in a low voice as she hunkered down by Sandy. She'd glanced quickly about the cavern and saw welcoming grins on other faces: people she did recognize.

"Yeah, you're a heroine, didn't you know?" Sandy winked as she held up the pitcher, waiting until Kris hurriedly undid her cup from its belt loop. "Right up there with Mitford, charging down the ravine like a berserker." She put a pottery plate, almost a perfect circle, on the rock nearest Kris: it held a browned piece of rock-squat, a slice of nicely toasted bread, and some fried circles.

"Not quite potatoes but as near as never-mind," Sandy told her, passing over a gracefully carved fork.

Kris grinned, looking down at the utensil and turning it over in her hand.

"Chantilly silverware it isn't, but better than risking sharp knife points in your mouth." Sandy poured herself a fresh cup and settled close to Kris. "How's the Cat scuse me, Zainal, this morning?"

"I don't know. His leg is swollen awful big.

"The medics are trying a bread poultice. Penicillin it isn't but my grannie was big on a bread poultice for boils and things." Sandy patted Kris's knee encouragingly.

"They're tough, Catteni. Imagine him, cutting the thorn out of his own leg!" She clicked her tongue at such courage. "And we got quite a board of medical men now." She chuckled. "And other specialists. Most of "em seem to have been taken from Sydney. From Botany Bay to Botany," and she chuckled again "Hey, this is good," Kris said, having tried the fried tuber. It was not unlike a sweet potato in texture and taste. "Say, are those thornbush leaves doing the Deskis any good?" Sandy nodded. "Made a tea when Coo explained what he wanted and we've dosed even the sickest." Her expression altered. "We lost three, you know, while you were out on that last patrol."

"No, I didn't." Kris stopped chewing. "They look so frail..

- "They are if they don't have the right food." Sandy remained grim. "Their bones break if you so much as touch them hard. You know who helped nurse "em?

Patti Sue!" That did surprise Kris.

"She's not much heavier than they are and has a light touch. She volunteered." Sandy grimaced. "She feels safe with the Deskis and even the Rugarians, you know."

"Jay Greene?" Now Sandy chuckled. "He's going slow but it was him who suggested she'd be good at tending the Deskis. She has been, but it damned near kills her to lose one."

"Look, they got the same rations we all did back on Barevi. I thought the ration bars were enough," Kris said.

"Ah, Coo says they were allowed "plursaw", too, and that's what they have to have in their diet to keep their bones from going soft. A kind of calcium additive, I guess. There isn't an equivalent here. unless that thornbush junk fflls the gap. He looks better, I know, but he's a young one."

"I didn't know," and Kris was remorseful. "I never asked either."

"There now, Kris, don't take on about it. It isn't as if you've had time to be social, you know, in and out of camp as you are." Sandy reached over for a covered pot set to one side of her hearth. "Made this special for Zainal. It's sort of a broth and the nearest thing to chicken soup I can put together here. It is nourishing and it doesn't taste too bad. Maybe you can get some down him. Leon says injured Catteni sometimes have a problem with dehydration. "Bout the only thing that can debilitate them." Kris thanked Sandy, deeply touched and much reassured.

"Would you know Aarens?"

"Yeah," and there was no joy in Sandy's reply.

"Is he around?" Sandy gave a malicious chuckle. "Him! Boy, didn't he luck out. Seems there's some good to him after all. He's a genius with gadgets. Don't worry about him."

"I don't worry about him.

I worry about his mouth."

"Don't." Kris thanked Sandy again and then made her way back to the hospital. She paused briefly when she saw the line of laden hunters returning to camp. She grinned to see the loaves and fishes that were being supplied to the multitude. She should have asked Sandy how many had been on the latest drop. And her patrol had found yet another nest of empty barns.

Lenny was gone from his post and the small room was crowded by those attending Zainal: Leon among others she identified as medical personnel. She made herself small and inched in, carefully ducking under the lintel and looking for someplace safe to put the pot of broth which was hot. Leon rose to his feet just then.

"Certainly unsophisticated but the best we have to hand.

Ah, Kris," and she could see how tired he was though his hazel eyes were very much alive and keen in his saturnine face. "W're using a bread poultice to draw the infection, now that you lot have providentially rediscovered bread on this godforsaken planet." He grinned. "Great bunch of improvisers here. She's the one found that anaesthetic. if we could only figure out how to dilute it without losing its effectiveness." His grin extended to his colleagues who acknowledged her appearance with smiles or nods. "Are you available to watch him?

Lenny's off duty."

"I am," she said. "Sandy gave me broth for him." "I'll be right with you," Leon said as the others moved out of the den, all being careful to duck on their way out. "Good-o on the broth.

When I was treating Catteni in Sydney for wounds, dehydration was the big danger.

See you get as much in him as he'll swallow, even if it's only water,' and he pointed to a condensation-beaded covered pitcher on the floor out of Zainal's immediate reach. "But he'll need the nourishment in the broth, too.

Catteni are big, strong and tough but they need to keep their internal economy turning over."

"I'll see to him."

"Good," and Leon glanced down at a slip of the bark paper. "Who's next?"

"That leg fracture," one of the men said, also consulting a slip.

They all left and Kris got a good look at Zainal's now poulticed leg. She could smell the yeast of the hot bread as she bent over him.

He was motionless, his breath slow and steady, but his skin, when she touched one broad flat cheek, was as hot as ever.

She rinsed out the fluff that was being used as a compress and cooled his face. Then, taking a spoon - the bowl of this utensil was deep enough to hold a respectable quantity of liquid and the rim smoothly polished - she dribbled water onto his lips. Automatically he licked and swallowed. She got maybe half a cup down him with patience and then bathed his hot face, moving down to his chest and arms. His coverall had been removed at some point and a decorous and swift peek of curiosity showed that he'd been given some sort of a modesty clout to cover his private parts, relieving her of embarrassment. He wasn't quite as heavily muscled as she'd thought with the bulky coverall disguising a body that, by any standards, was beautiful. She shook her head at that wayward thought. What the hell's wrong with admiring a beaut:ful bod on a guy? Nothing, unless you also don't think of that body next to your own! Whoops, girl. Down! She told herself sternly.

She allowed herself to stroke his skin, softer than its greyness looked. And exhaled, trying to shake off a sensation in her gut.

Lusting after a Cateeni, girl? You are the pits!

Nevertheless, the opportunity to touch him in more than a nurse-patient relationship was almost too much to resist. She smoothed back his silky grey hair, as fine as a baby's. In repose his features were even more patrician, when she compared him to some of the other Catteni she remembered. Yes, decidedly he was several castes above the average male mercenary. She was so accustomed to the look of him now that he didn't even seem alien any more. Hmmm. Well, that attitude was better than rampant xenophobia!

Between her sessions of watering him - she also got him to take some of the broth which had cooled enough to be dripped into his mouth - she rested on her bed, drowsing occasionally. She wondered if he knew they were trying their best to help him because he lay stolidly unmoving, even when the poultice was still hot. The only response he gave was to swallow when moisture was offered.

Time to water him again.

More noise outside, muted though it was, warned her of increased activity in the hospital. Lenny popped his head in.

"He may not be eating, but you should." Until he mentioned it, she hadn't realized how empty her stomach was.

"So, what's for din-dins?" she asked facetiously.

He grinned and brought a plate from behind his back, complete with pottery-domed lid.

"We're getting quite fawncy, this weather," he said.

Then he lifted the top.

"My God, it looks human," she said in pleased surprise.

For the meal consisted of more tubers, boiled by the look of them, a section of avian, to judge by the configuration of the wing, and two portions of greens.

"Just what the doctor ordered! Leave you to it! Oh," and he reappeared in the doorway, "mass meeting this evening at the sound of the gong!" "Gong?" she asked but he was out of earshot.

She ate with a good appetite and the food was delicious.

The ration bars and the travel meal had doubtless been nutritious but real food of differing texture, now that was civilized.

Leon came bustling in when she had finished and he was looking rested.

"Got some sleep, did you? Report?"

"He's been taking both water and broth whenever I offer them and I've cooled him down in between.

But he doesn't move much," she ended lamely, looking expectantly at Leon Dane.

"Hmmm. They don't. Real adherents of the grin-andbear brigade.

They suffer in silence. I suspect he's more conscious of what's going on than you realize. Zainal?" Leon leaned over the Catteni, hand on his brow and then on the main artery on the left of his neck. He proceeded downwards, checking the temperature of the skin and then palpating the thigh tissues. "Hmmmm."

"Your "hmmrns" are getting longer," Kris remarked sardonically "When in doubt a thoughtful "hmInm" is reassuring."

"To whom?"

"Whommmm does it as well, y' know," and Leon was now delicately prodding the wound area, having lifted the poultice.

It had turned an obnoxious shade of grey/orange/green. "Yes indeed.

I think that's doing it."

"You do?" and Kris leant over to see what he could possibly have taken as encouragement. The ghastly hole did look…"healthier" was the only word she could find. Nicely red instead of raw red, and the swelling had noticeably subsided so that the kneecap was once again visible. "I think I agree."

"Keep on with watering him. Ah, you're with us," Leon added suddenly when Zainal startled them both by opening his eyes.

"I need to lose water," Zainal said clearly.

Laughing, Leon collected a cleverly shaped pottery utensil at the end of the bough bed which Kris hadn't actually noticed before, and she beat a hasty retreat while Leon attended the patient.

He came out with the utensil in his hand, chuckling to himself.

"He'll do fine. Just fine. Don't forget the meeting tonight, will you?"

"How long have you been awake, Zainal?" Kris asked in a diffident tone of voice.

"Off and on," he said, his eyes closed but he held out his hand and when she took it, his eyes opened. They held a look which made her chest swell with some unidentifiable emotion, so strong that her eyes began to water. His grip was very delicate and his skin still more than warm. "I knew you were here. You were there, by the water, too.

Good of you, very good of you."

"Not at all," and she covered his hand with her free one. "You're… we're buddies. We look out for each other." His eyes flicked open. "Buddies?"

"For lack of a better tem, yes. I won't let you down."

"That I know." Then he released her hand and dropped his arm to his side, closing his eyes again. "Water?

I am no longer full." And his lips lengthened in a slight smile.

"The tasty water."

"We call it broth."

"Good." She fed him and felt good about it.

The meeting was very well attended though Kris missed some of Mitford's usual satellites, the Rugarians, as well as the Doyles. Even patients who could be moved out to the ledge in front of the hospital were present: Anna and her baby, the fracture cases - everyone except Zainal.

Kris was obliquely offended by that but talked herself out of indignation: plainly Zainal was too ill to be moved and she could report to him - and defend him if necessary. Now why was she feeling so defensive about the Catteni?

Jay Greene had Patti Sue on one side of him. She joined them, leaning against the rockface on Jay's left side.

"What's up?"

"Oh, a Mitford morale-building session and the latest news." Jay grinned.

"What latest news?" Kris demanded, knowing he was baiting her and giving him an ingenuous grin.

"The batch you and Zainal discovered weren't the only drops that night. Mitford sent off an exploratory patrol to see how many fields got seeded in what we believe is the typical Catteni drop pattern."

"More people?" Kris gave a frantic glance around the cave system, certainly overcrowded by the latest group of refugees. How were they going to cope? Then a rattle of the alarm triangle brought a wave of hush over the congregation. Mitford stood up, waiting until he had complete silence.

"OK, folks, listen up. There're more drop-ins.. -" He paused until the mutter - Kris thought she heard resentment as well as surprise and concern - had subsided.

"I take it as a good omen, considering what debriefing I've had." He chuckled. "The Catteni aren't finding it as easy to subdue good ol' Earth as they expected." A cheer went up.

"And they've just increased our specialist departinent by four doctors, eighteen nurses, nine computer specialists, fourteen engineers, some good ol' hunter types from Australia, and a bunch of other real useful individuals, including some professional cooks so we oughta be eating even better in the near future."

"Even with so many mouths to feed, Sarge?" a woman shouted.

He waved off that concern. "We got a whole planet to hunt and plenty of grain stored where we can get it."

"Winter's coming "So's Christmas and we'll have heating units from those solar panels long before. Now settle down. What we're going to do to relieve the housing shortage here is move into the buildings we know are empty, and already plumbed for our benefit."

"But all those machines "Have been decommissioned,' Mitford said, raising his voice to parade ground volume. "The Botany Hilton or Sheraton or whatever, are safe, sound and have.. he paused, "space available. Our local home decorators have been busy designing alterations, so I think you'll be surprised at how comfortable you're going to be."

"I'm not so sure I wanna live near machines "Quietest neighbours you ever had, I'll betcha," Mitford said and got another ripple of laughter.

"Good chance of us having an intercom system, too, now we got more technicians. All that machinery's going to be recycled for our benefit!"

"Yeah, and what happens when their owners find out?" The man spoke with a slight accent but Kris couldn't locate the speaker.

"As I understand it, Dr Who always managed to evade the mechanicals and so can we," Mitford said with great good humour and got more laughs. "Seriously, though, folks, our population's growing and once again he paused, "everyone's welcome. This is an equal opportunity situation. Let me make that plain. D'you get me?" He waited for the response and, to Kris's relief, got a fairly hearty cheer. "For one thing, there's safety in numbers, especially when you can recruit a lot of specialists who can improve our conditions. And we do. Hell, sixteen days since we got dropped to Freedom on that field, we've even got decent spoons and forks, and better rations than we landed with. Furthermore, we've sorted out some basic problems our allies were having since Zainal and Kris Bjornsen found the nutrient plant that seems to be helping the Deskis. Even if Zainal found it.. . the hard way' Applause and good-natured laughter acknowledged that announcement and Kris was well pleased by both elements: that Zainal was getting the credit and that the Deskis were stabilizing.

"We Yanks have a reputation for making something out of nothing, and now that the Aussies have joined us, we'll do even better.

There'll be duty and housing rosters up on the bulletin board - - -" and he pointed to the location on the main cave wall opposite him, "in the morning so be sure to check. We're going to try and make space here in the headquarters to process incomers and as general hospital.

Tesco's in charge of quarters, Dowdall'll take work assignments. You need to see me, check with Cumber. That's all for now, folks.

Dissss-MISSED!" There was good-natured laughter at his military salutation and he disappeared into the darkness beyond the main campfire.

"Hi, Patti Sue," and Kris leaned around Jay to speak to her.

"Heard you've been a real Nightingale to the Deskis." Patti Sue linked her arm through Jay's in such a proprietary fashion that the gesture indicated her improvement from terrified refugee to self-confident young woman.

"Do what I can," she said, her drawl more pronounced than ever.

"You've done marvels, and you know it," Jay said, stroking her hand.

"D'you know if you're moving from the Rock?" Kris asked Patti Sue and then looked at Jay.

He shrugged. "Dunno yet. COQ'll be up tomorrow morning. We'll all know then." In the middle of the night, Kris was roused by considerable noise in the corridor. Even Zainal was awakened, propping himself up on one elbow and trying to see out.

"Don't you dare put a foot on the ground," she said, pressing him back down. She felt his cheek and he was considerably cooler than he had been when she had last checked him. "You're better. Don't mess up.

I'll go see." She'd told him about the meeting and also that Mitford had given him credit for finding the remedy for the Deskis.

"Even if you had to do it the hardest way possible," she'd said with some acrimony. He'd only snorted. "At least they know one Catteni's a good guy." Maybe others wouldn't.

She didn't add that, but that sentiment naggingly lingered at the back of her mind.

She folded on her shoes, the only thing she took off before going to bed, and went out into the corridor.

"Good!" One of the new Aussie medics said, grabbing her by the arm. "We need all the help we can get." The newest arrivals had not had a Zainal or Kris to stamp the ground and despatch the scavengers and there were many with mangled arms and legs. Most of the victims spoke languages she didn't understand but which sounded Slavonic or Scandinavian. Only a few had some English.

When she was sent by Leon to get more supplies and rouse additional helpers, she saw that the ravine was crammed with bodies, draped wherever they had stopped, too tired to move another step. But the cook cavern was ablaze with lights. Sandy, Bart and half a dozen others were busy at their hearths and the "store' was busy with Jay and Patti Sue doling out supplies. Jay instantly filled the hospital order and she returned.

The third moon had set before she was released and when she got back into the tiny den she shared with Zainal, she had to step carefully over the three other bodies bunked in there during her absence. Fortunately they were fast asleep, though she thought she saw Zainal's eyes glimmer in the corridor light as he checked out her arrival.

So no-one was able to follow the carefully detailed rosters that were up on the camp's main bulletin board.

More parties were sent out to help stragglers, to hunt, to collect additional supplies of grain from that supply depot. Jay complained that folks had to search fairly far from Camp Rock to find firing and brush for bedding.

By high noon, all the new arrivals had been fed a decent meal and had some place to lay their blanket.

The Rugarians, led by Slav, finally returned, bearing the crates with the basic supplies that had been left with this new group. Class C was what Mitford decided to call them. All morning had to be spent extracting information from those who could speak English among the Russians, Norwegians, Swedes, Danes, Bulgarians, Rumanians and some Greeks who comprised this drop. The fact that so many different nationalities were resisting the Catteni on Earth gave the entire camp a morale boost.

"But why'd they have to dump "em here when they don't even speak English?" one man complained in a wail.

"Who asked?" a wit demanded. "We'll manage. Hell, I know five Deski phrases and nine in Rugs. I'll manage another few lingos. Well, at least until they learn English." By evening the population had increased by a thousand and fifty-two: far more than the camp could accommodate, even by crowding into all available cavern space.

Of Class C, those that could speak English and had not been injured or had suffered only minor hurts were sent off with Sandy, Joe Lattore and Tesco to orgamze quarters in the abattoir buildings.

"They don't know what happened there, and I don't plan to tell "em,' Sandy remarked to Kris when Kris came upon the woman packing her pots and utensils. "I'll organize the cooking there. Twenty barns, are there?" When Kris nodded, "Ah, we'll probably be able to accommodate a lot more than we're taking with us right now, but it'll sure ease the crush." There was no longer sitting room in the cook cavern and every single hearth was going full out all the time.

The smell fromunwashed bodies exuding fear as well as sweat quite masked the more appetizing odours of grilled meats and fresh bread.

When Sandy and her contingent had left, Kris couldn't see where space had been gained and went back to the hospital with the broth she'd gone to collect. Zainal was more eager for any news she had than the food she brought him, but he ate that hungrily enough. His leg was nearly back to its normal sturdy size and the wound was healing cleanly. But it was still crater sized and Leon had made it clear that Zainal was not to move about much.

Zainal did, though, helping with patients who had to be lifted when their dressings were changed or when they were being moved to new accommodations. He did more than he should, but she couldn't keep her eyes on him all the time and there was a lot to be done to make the injured as comfortable as possible without pain relief and no other anti-infection medication than the harsh Catteni fluid. The merest drop of the powerful anaesthetic tended to render a patient unconscious for a full day. Medically that was imprudent, however much relief it afforded the injured party.

"Whatever those critters are that scavenge, at least they bite clean,' Leon said later that day when Kris helped him bandage an arm wound. Flesh had been excised as cleanly as a scalpel would cut but the patient had lost muscle as well as flesh and, from the extent of the injury, Kris rather thought the man would lose the use of his arm entirely.

"They bite big, too," she murmured under her breath, after looking to be sure the victim was unconscious.

Leon only sighed and continued his repair. Kris was rather surprised at her ability to regard hideous tears of flesh and muscle with an objectivity she didn't know she possessed. She hadn't been nauseous once, though others on the temporary nursing staff were.

The dressing complete, both she and Leon finished the current round and walked towards the front of the "hospital'. A breeze was blowing in and freshening the air of the "emergency room' which, for the first time in several days, was empty of patients.

"You," and she took Leon by the arm, "need food and rest, not necessarily in that order but I can see to it that you eat!" She took a deep sniff of the incoming breeze.

"Smells good, too." Hauling him by the arm, she marched him out and down the ledge to the cook cavern.

"I hate bossy females," Leon protested, but weakly, as she manoeuvred him past those busy with chores on the ledge.

Below, in his office, Mifford was still debriefing the able-bodied of the last batch though, from the expressions on his face and Esker's, he was making slow work of it with two blond Scandinavian types sitting there.

"Most Scandinavians speak English," Leon remarked.

"The ones you've met in Sydney, or the ones in Oslo, Bergen or Copenhagen?" Leon laughed wearily. "I always wanted to take a travel year.

"Well, guess what? You're on it. Already Kris missed the dour presence of Sandy at her hearth but Bart was present, and evidently in charge of the catering.

"Never been in a job that was so damned constant," Ban said when they presented themselves at his hearth.

He rolled his eyes and then mopped the sweat off his forehead with a pad of fluff which he then dropped into the fire. It hissed. "I'm cooking all the hours the good Lord put in this crazy day. What's your pleasure? We got soup for starters, soup and then, for the main course, soup. We even got crackers," and he offered a square of unleavened stuff, "cos we ran outa bread and the new baking hasn't risen yet." "Why, I think I'll have soup," Kris said, getting herself a clean bowl from the stack at the hearth.

"I'll have a taste adventure, then, and try the soup," Leon said and Bart grinned as he ladled out their portions.

"Don't ask what's in it, will ya," he said as a final caution when they moved out to the ledge to enjoy their meal.

"That's a promise," Kris said with a laugh.

The soup was tasty, with a tangy bite to it, as well as unidentifiable shreds of meat. The satisfying warmth in the stomach revived her. That was, until she saw Zainal carefully making his way down the steps to Mitford's office.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Dane demanded.

"Something other than lying in bed doing nothing," Kris answered Leon's complaint. She nervously shifted her feet, knowing she shouldn't follow the big man but wanting to be sure he didn't open that leg wound.

He very carefully negotiated his descent, so she made herself relax. The question was: what urgent business could Zainal have with Mitford that he'd risk opening that wound? Something he couldn't trust her to do for him? Down girl, she told herself firmly. She might be his keeper but she was not his conscience. Whatever he was saying to Mitford, the sergeant was listening very hard. Zainal was still there in the office when she and Leon had finished eating and had to go back on duty.

That evening Esker found her settling the other patients - none of whom had any English - in her den.

"Mitford needs to speak to you, Kris. And you, too, Zainal." He was gone before Kris could question him but, thinking over the tone in which the summons was delivered, she felt no apprehension. After all, Zainal had had that intense discussion with Mitford. Had the sergeant reached a decision? If one was needed?

Mitford was, as usual at this time of his long work day, sitting by the fire, the pottery pitcher of beverage by the side of his rock, the half-full cup in one hand. In the other, he had a stick and was prodding a billet to a better position in the fire.

"Zainal has some cockamamey notion of sending a mayday to his people next time they overfly us," Mitford said, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at Kris. "He feels we haven't had the last of these drops." Mitford gave a little sigh for the problems that yet another influx of people would provide. "Now, fer starters, I don't know as how I want to appeal to them for any help but it's the truth we need some sort of medical supplies, as well as the proper nutrients for the Deskis. That thornbush junk is not quite enough, not for the older Deskis though it's helping Coo. I just don't like to lose anyone, human or alien." He scowled as he delivered that remark.

"How could we possibly contact them?" Kris said, turning to Zainal.

"Make this message on field," Zainal said, and unfolded a slip of bark on which were written, or maybe "drawn' was the proper tem, four complex hieroglyphics Zainal had inscribed.

"How? We haven't rediscovered paint yet here." He gave her a brief smile. "Ground is dark under." and he waggled his hand to try to find the appropriate word.

"Stubble? Grass?" she supplied.

"Whatever. Take off covering, leave ground bare." That was a good idea, only somehow Kris shared Mitford's obvious reluctance to make any contact with the Catteni.

"We put message many fields off," and Zainal gestured to the north. "They know we live. They bring more they don't want."

"They know we're here?" Kris asked, more disturbed by that than she liked though a quick look at Mitford showed him more sanguine.

Zainal nodded. "Heat sensors. Then he stretched his lip in a humorous grin. "That's why they fly over."

"Humph, thought that might be it,' Mitford said.

"Bastards!" Then Zainal's grin altered to one of amusement at the sergeant's acceptance and once again Kris was amazed at how that smile transformed his alien cast of countenance.

He looked almost human, except for the white of his teeth contrasting with the grey of his skin. "Know we live so send more."

"Yeah, but they still don't know about the existence of the Meco Makers! Zainal shook his head. "Sensors find warm bodies, not machinery.

"Hmmm," Mitford said, stirring the fire with his branch.

"Coo still weak but young. Older ones worse and get worser," Zainal said urgently in English, then, in his concern, resorted to Barevi. "Catteni take captives everywhere, but they take good care of them. Of Rugarians, Deskis, Turs and Morphins, and Terrans.

Healthy bodies work better. Asking for proper food is acceptable.

"Won't they find it strange that we ask in Catteni symbols?" Kris asked, pointing to his bark message.

Zainal grinned broadly again. "They know humans are smart," he said in English. "Too damned smart, so they drop them here. No trouble here. Coo and Pess good folks. Can't lose." Now he turned his earnest expression on Mitford. "I work with Deskis and Rugarians before.

Good folks. We save them?"

"You sure have learnt English quick, Zainal," Mitford said in a drawl, temporizing, Kris thought. Then he regarded Zainal for a long moment. "And the Deskis deserve saving.

Your guys'd just drop the supplies?" Zainal nodded. "They wouldn't come down to find out?" Zainal shook his head. "Why not?" Zainal now laughed. "You make trouble. They he paused and Kris could almost see him trying to sort through his head to find the right words, "play it safe. I play it safe, too."

"You mean, you wouldn't take the opportunity to get off Botany?" Mitford asked that in such a mild tone that Kris hoped Zainal would see he was being deftly interrogated.

"They don't take back what they put down," he said with a philosophical shrug.

Mitford grimaced. "So there's no chance we could commandeer one of their transports?" Zainal considered this and finally shook his head. "They be careful where they drop." He grinned. "Especially near you Terrans."

"How do you know that?" Zainal's teeth gleamed in the firelight when he smiled.

"Know it before, back on Barevi. Lots of talk. Hear it now from the new ones. Believe it, too. I see how you work."

"Thanks, buddy' Mitford replied sardonically but amused by Zainal's approval. "Why would they do us a favour then?"

"I tell you why." Now Zainal seemed to tense and Kris felt Mitford was pushing him too much, as if he didn't quite believe Zainal was on the level. "Keep healthy to improve this planet." Suddenly Zainal held out the slip of bark with its symbols and, with one thick fingertip, explained them.

"This says "drop"," and he pointed to the intricate hook in the centre of the first glyph. "This says "food"," and he ran his finger half round the next curlicue, "this "Deski creatures". This means." and he moved to the next glyph, "danger to the death" surrounded by urgent Fourth one says "medicines for infection". Four only.

Easy to make, easy to read from distance." His tone was cold and firm.

"OK, OK, man, I believe you," Mitford said. "Just had to ask."

"These my people, too, now, Zainal added, straightening his wide shoulders as if he, too, would assume some of that burden from Mitford.

"We are one people now, or by God, I'll know why!" Mitford said so fiercely that Kris almost recoiled. The sergeant saw her reaction and gave her a quick grin. "I could even get to like being in charge of this motley crew.

So, when will you be able to travel, Zainal?"

"Sunrise Kris started to protest but Mitford held up a hand to silence her. "If he thinks he can, he can. Those Deskis need the right food. And we can use the Deskis' abilities.

You go with him, Kris. How many will you need to carve the message, Zainal?" The Catteni waved his hand to indicate he'd go alone.

"Stuff it, buddy, man," Mitford said irritably. "You'll need help making those figures large enough to be seen from altitude. I know.

Had to do it in "Nam once. Even SOS takes time to make." He turned to Kris, an almost wistful expression on his face. "You don't happen to speak any Scandinavian language, do you?" And when she shook her head, he sighed. "New guys are all I have to send with you but you can break "em in to our new ways at the same time. And, I'll pick you one that speaks English and the rest'll be told what to do. Got it?"

"Got it, Sarge," and she rose, recognizing a dismissal when she heard it.

Zainal extended one hand to Mitford which the sergeant took readily enough and shook.

"You will not be sorry," Zainal said as he rose.

"1 sincerely hope not," Mitford replied. "Esker will have a patrol ready at first light."