Freedom's Ransom

Chapter Five

As soon as the cart was off the field, Chuck turned purposefully to Zainal.

"I lucked out. Traded four tins of Nescafe instant coffee for some of those satellite parts we were trying to find on Earth. What we need is on Barevi, you know"

"We suspected that."

Chuck pulled a hand recorder out of his jacket. "Got a Jet Pro-pulsion Lab director to give me a list of what we need. He said that there were some built most recently with switchable units. That would make it so easy to maintain those already in orbit. The ones the Cattem used for target practice. I did a quick survey of the loot on Barevi and they've got the replacements we need."

"We're organizing a ransom party" Zainal said.

"A ransom?" Chuck stared at him. "Yeah," and his shoulders slumped, "and I hope you got stuff they want."

"No coffee, but gold-"

"For their teeth?" Chuck's surprise was obvious. "How'd you hear about that?"

"Doesn't matter how but we did." Zainal gave an indolent shrug. "Though vanity has never been a Catteni problem. Still, no one ever thought lost teeth could be replaced. We also have a dentist."

Chuck's laugh was hearty as he gave Zainal's massive shoulder an appreciative buffet.

"I was wondering how I was going to break the news to you," he said, "about ransoming our own equipment back from those Barevi looters. And we gotta make tracks there, fast. Too much is being ground into the mud in the marketplace by those bozos working off steam." He shook his head. "When I think of all the hard work and the material we can't reproduce:" He stopped, took a breath, and then went on. "You wouldn't believe what they've achieved on Earth."

"Reconstructing?" Kris asked.

"More than just infrastructures. You'll be proud. Look, Zainal, can we call a meeting of the colonists?"

"One is set for this evening. We have to get permission to use the colony's assets as ransom, you know"

"Good. I'll grab a shower and change. Oh, and I got some crew with me." He looked over his shoulder at the open ramp of the KDL. "In-service training but boy, do they know their stuff. Of course, they should. Many of 'em are ex-NASA." Chuck's grin was broader. "Brought more than I needed for the KDs but we do have other ships." He gestured to the ones parked on the field. "They learn real quick and I had space available." He turned and called, "Olly-olly in free. Welcome to Botany, guys and gals."

Out filed a line of men and women looking very smart in flight gear. They made a double row in front of Chuck, who was still grin-ning from ear to ear.

"Sir, Excellent Emassi Zainal, Botany airforce recruits reporting for duty" said the man who took two steps forward toward Zainal and saluted smartly. "Sam Maddocks, with eight volunteers, all with flight and space hours. Not many of the latter but we stood shifts with Sergeant Mitford on the way here!"

"Delighted to have you on board, Colonel Maddocks " The colonel stiffened his spine still further as Zainal used his appropriate rank, having noticed the silver maple leaf on his collar.

How Zainal had learned to differentiate rank insignia and the service forms Kris didn't know, but it stood him in good stead now. "What a beautiful planet you got dumped on, sir."

"Luck, Colonel, sheer luck! This is Kris Bjornsen, my mate, and these are my sons, Peran and Bazil. Clune, Ferris, and Ditsy, who will be accompanying us to Barevi on a shopping mission. We may need your services to accomplish the mission."

"Anything we can do, we will, sir."

"I am known as Zainal, Colonel, not sir. Now, if you will intro-duce me to the rest of your group, we'll take you back to the main settlement and find you quarters."

"We don't mind staying on board, Zainal, if there is any shortage of space. The sergeant said that things are pretty basic here."

"There are people you should meet, Colonel, and we will have a lot to discuss and plans to make."

"Yes, Zainal." With a perfect about-face, he marched to the first person in the line behind him, a woman.

"Captain Jacqueline Kiznet, sir, with twenty-five hours of flight time on F-122s. She was to be mission pilot on the Mars 10 Supply Rocket. Captain Kiznet has had training in the KDL series and stood five watches as duty officer on our inbound flight."

"Captain Kiznet, my pleasure," Zainal said, shaking her hand and returning her salute. She was medium tall, dark-haired, with a pleas-ant face and a twinkling eye.

"Captain Katherine Harvey also made herself familiar with the KDL and the KDM specs, did simulations on both in flight and was duty engineer." The captain was a tall redhead, with freckles on her nose and cheeks and a decidedly reserved manner about her.

"Lieutenant Gail Sullivan is a communications expert and has flu-ent Catteni." Sullivan had short blond hair, a stunned expression on her face, and was small beside the tall captain.

Zainal clasped the lieutenant's hand with vigor. "Welcome to Botany, Emassi, and are you familiar with docking and parking proto-cols?" he asked in Catteni.

"I listened to all the tapes on board the KDL, Zainal, and feel con-fident that I can park or dock the vessel at any space facility," Gail re-sponded in Catteni, her alto voice managing to growl in a respectable accent.

"In fact," Maddocks interposed, "she has already done so at Barevi " "Very good, very good indeed."

Perhaps it was only Kris who noticed the tension easing in Zainal's face and shoulders as he moved on to the next man, one who had the squint of someone accustomed to peering at small print or monitor screens. "Lieutenant Ed Douglas here can even read Catteni."

"You are able to read Catteni?" Zainal asked in the language. "Slowly, sir, but I am also working on a Catteni-English glossary of technical terms, which I feel will be extremely useful."

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

"I'm apt to be slow with the really technical stuff, but ordinary messages are a snap." He emphasized this by snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Mullinax, astrogator, and Lieutenant Mpatane Cummings, also communications, sir, and both are fluent in Catteni. Last but not least, Major Alexander McColl, the most senior pilot."

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

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

"Your timing is excellent, as usual, Sergeant."

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

"Is the Mars Base still operational?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Retreat?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"All right, folks, may I have some quiet?"

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

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

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

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

"Rich enough?" she asked in a whispered response. He shrugged. "If we bargain closely enough."

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

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

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

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

"Dick Aarens, I'll need you to converse with Lieutenants Mullinax, Cummings, and Douglas and those of you here who have had expe-rience with our satellites and communication units. I may be antici-pating the Council's decision-"

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

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

"How the hell do you figure that, Zainal?" Leon Dane demanded as he entered the conference room on the end of that remark. "Yeah, wasn't your fault the Eosi and Catteni invaded Earth," Peter Snyder said almost angrily.

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

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

"I consider myself responsible!" Zainal said firmly.

"You got no reason to, Zainal," Leon Dane said, his voice carry-ing over other disclaimers.

"But I do!" Zainal replied. "And I can repair that oversight. I in-tend to."

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

"Not as much as I think I should have or could have." He made a slicing movement of his hands to make that the end of the argument. Kris made no further protest, knowing it would be futile, but there were others who were quite willing to deny him guilt. She knew him better, for she knew now that he was set in his path and nothing would distract or delay him from achieving what he considered his duty and responsibility. Catteni were relentless, if nothing else. She admired that in him, but she'd be glad when he felt he could relax. His sons looked adoringly at him but she knew he wasn't posing for their approval.

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

"You have a copier?" the dark-haired officer asked in surprise. "Any number of them who write a fair Catteni hand," Zainal said. "In handwriting?" Douglas was dismayed.

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

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

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

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

"Takeoff tomorrow?" Kris asked, almost wistfully.

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

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

"We've had to, Lieutenant."

"Do you have computers here?" He was expecting a negative. "The best I could find at Barevi the last time I was there," she said, wishing her tone hadn't been so defensive. He didn't look annoyed and grinned at her.

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

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

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

"Of course."

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

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

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

"I studied typing in high school," Clime murmured to her. "And I have a good speed and know Catteni so I wouldn't make mistakes." "Thanks, Clime, but you may be needed for other priorities. Don't know what Zainal has in store for you and the other boys."

"Any damned thing he wants, Kris. Some guy!" Clime was clearly in awe. "Ditsy even says so and Ditsy don't waste words, you know" "Did you boys have it rough with the Masai?"

"Not rough, Kris, but different. Masai have a much different culture than we do. Sure am glad you got Floss out of there when you did. You shoulda seen the old man they were going to tie her up to."

"I heard." Then she gave Clime a stern look. "You get Dane to give you some condoms, you hear me?"

"I hear you good, Emassi Kris." His face tightened suddenly. "But you don't mind it's me, do you?"

"Why should I? You have long-term loyalties I wouldn't think of challenging. And I appoint you Floss's undercover bodyguard."

"I've been that for six years, even before the Catteni landed. My father was a chief of his tribe." He tossed his head in a defensive if proud fashion. "Of all his sons, I was sent to the States to be educated."

"I should've guessed something like that," Kris said at her most approving. "You've an air about you, you know. You'll need that to deal with Barevian merchants. Floss said you've already done a lot of negotiating with Catteni?"

"Had to, Kris, though some thought we were trucking with the invaders, but we weren't. We were staying alive and out of the round-ups." His expression changed to one of intense concern. "Where did all those thousands of people get dropped, Kris?"

"We'll find out, Clime, we'll find out. Another thing to investi-gate on Barevi."

"They'll be sorry they ever invaded our system."

"The Eosi already are," Kris responded with an ironic laugh. "Barevi will be sorrier soon."

"I hope."

"Me too. Indeed I do," she said in a brightly positive tone, squelching once again that tiny fear of failure she refused to entertain. When she recalled all they had managed to do, she didn't think she was being too optimistic. Well, maybe a little. This expedition was going to be difficult even if all the breaks were on their side. What she really looked forward to was less adventure, dull as that might be after all that had happened to her in the last six years. But there was more, as Zainal had said so emphatically, that somehow had become her responsibility as well as his and Botany's. Well, that was Life, wasn't it? She hadn't even graduated from college yet and she had a lifetime career already!

The newcomers were mingling with the residents now, with questions of their own to be answered. Chuck's cousins were also in the room, looking bewildered. She was about to approach them when she saw Dorothy and Chuck gather them up. She also saw that Zainal's two boys seemed to be talking comfortably to a group of people, so she didn't have to worry about them. Even Ditsy was involved in a conversation, so she didn't see where exactly she might be needed. Then Chuck, Dorothy, and his cousins made a beeline for her.

"Do you have a minute, Kris?" Chuck asked, his face flushed. "I'd like to be introduced to my daughter."

"Oh, Lord, in all the fuss I forgot you haven't seen her. Let's go right away, before someone catches me for something absolutely essential right now"

Flustered, Kris started for the door, wondering how to explain her maternity when she had been introduced to the cousins as Zainal's mate.

She felt someone touch her elbow and realized that Chuck was striding right beside her. "Don't worry. Dorothy explained about the colony's decision to widen the gene pool."

Yes, thought Kris wildly to herself, but she didn't have to get drunk while stuck on that ship on Catten and all but seduce Chuck when he had been almost legless from drinking the local hooch with the airfield commandant.

Kris wasn't sure that explanation would sit well with two older-generation women who obviously adored their cousin.

"Don't fret, Kris. They're just so happy that I have a baby at all." He kept them a little distance ahead of Dorothy, Cherry, and Rose on their way to the creche and continued his low-voiced explanations. "Leon says they'll improve here on Botany. Texas had a hard winter with more snow than usual and they hadn't any transport to get into the town when the community started. They didn't lack for much, but when they ran out of flour for bread, they put up a bonfire and attracted a rider who took Rose to town and then they were fine. Even had canned stuff to barter for flour." He looked extremely proud of his relatives. Then he swung his chin in Dorothy's direction. "They've always wanted me to marry, and they seem to like Dorothy."

"She's easy to like, Chuck. We don't know whom Amy looks like. Neither you nor me."

"She's pretty young to look like anyone but herself, ain't she?" Kris was laughing then as she led them into the creche. Amy was in a playpen, lying on her back and whirling her arms in response to the babble of sound around her.

"Great Lord above, she's the spit of your mother, our cousin Mary," Rose said, clasping her hands to her mouth in feminine shock. "Why, just look at her hair, and the darling shape of her face. I re member one of the photos in the family album: and that child is Mary Mitford to the life! Oh, may I cuddle her, Kris?"

"Certainly," Kris replied, delighted. Rose knew how, and Amy settled into her arms as if she'd always known them. Growing up as she had with many people attending her, she had never been shy. Few of the creche kids were. Even Daisy, whom the medics had once thought might be muted by the traumas she had lived through, now babbled away without inhibitions.

Cherry began to sniffle and gulp back tears. "Oh, she's adorable, Chuck. How did you two ever manage to produce such a lovely girl child?" Then she, too, put hand to lips, widening her eyes in consternation at what she had blurted out.

"A happy match of compatible genes, I'd say," Dorothy replied quickly. "We've actually seen a lot of that since we started increasing Botany's indigenous population."

Zane, who seemed to have a special antenna for his mother's presence, came bouncing into the infant section of the creche and pounced on her. So she introduced him to the Mitford cousins.

"This one looks so much like his dad," she said, ruffling Zane's hair, "that I'm relieved we've found how Amy got so pretty."

"You're pretty, Mom," Zane said loyally, daring anyone to defy him. "Who does Amy look like?"

"Very much like Chuck's mother, God rest her soul," said Rose, startled at the boy's question. "Oh, we do have a very old picture of Mary. One of the things you must rescue for us, Charles, the next time you're back on Earth."

"In the parlor?" Chuck asked, watching her cuddling his daughter. "Of course. In the breakfront. Lower cabinet, first on the left. Where else?"

"I should have looked there first, without having to be reminded," Chuck said defensively. "Look, I gotta get crackin' on the mission. You two are in safe hands here, in case I don't get to see you before I go off"

"You be careful, Charles," his oldest cousin said, shaking her fin-ger at him.

"Don't worry about Chuck," Kris replied, unable to restrain the urge. "I'll protect him."

"Yeah, you and who else?" Chuck demanded, halfway to the door, shooting her a droll look.

"You don't need more than my mom," Zane responded defiantly. "That's all too true, lad, all too true," Chuck said with a final wave of his hand as he left.

"Would he be going into danger, Kris?" Rose asked timorously. "No more than any of us," Kris replied. "Now, don't you fret, ladies. You are safe here and we're so glad that Chuck found you." After listening to the two cousins cataloging his half-sister's graces, Zane returned to whatever game he had left when he'd heard his mother's voice.

"What a sturdy child he is," Rose said. "Oh, how can you leave such dear children?"

"Only because I have to," Kris said. "But knowing that you might look in on Amy will relieve me a great deal."

"Of course we will. You may be sure of that."

"Then, if you'll excuse me, I have some details to organize," Kris said and, with a little bow, left them. She had to organize some notes for the evening's meeting, but first she had to find out some details and so she made her way to the library.

"Yo, Betty? What stack are you hiding under?" she called as she came through the front door.

"Betty's not here," said Dr. Hessian. "What can I help you find?" Since the doctor's recovery from being brain-scanned by the Eosi, he had taken on extra hours at the library, helping to catalog and shelve the rather bizarre collection of books they had liberated from Barevi.

"I need to know which countries on Terra produced coffee." "Now, that is an odd one. As it happens, I once did a survey of the coffee-producing countries. Brazil, of course, was the major producer. Coffee beans take a tropical climate, you know"

Snatches of old television advertisements flashed through her mind. "Which type? Arabica or robusta?"

"Coffee beans by any name."

"There are, or should I say were, twenty-eight coffee-producing countries. Asia, Africa, Indonesia, South America, the various islands in the Caribbean-"

"Twenty-eight?" Kris breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. Why?" asked the doctor, mildly curious by her relief.

"Because there will be coffee beans somewhere that haven't been seized by the Cattem. They're addicted to coffee, you see."

"Not quite, but I'm glad to know my errant memory could sup-ply you with information. If you'll wait a moment, I'll just look it up in the encyclopedia."

"Not necessary right now, Doctor, but if you could bring the ref-erence with you to the meeting tonight?"

"Yes, yes, of course."

"It's the roasting that does it, you know," he added in a helpful tone of voice. When she gave him a startled look, he expatiated. "Raw coffee beans have to be stripped of the exterior fruit pulp, which makes a good animal feed, the beans dried and roasted before grinding, you know. The coffee bean is a drupe."

She did remember about grinding, and the thought of freshly roasted and ground coffee made her inhale a deep breath, recalling just how good roasting beans smelled. Unforgettable as well as inde-scribable.

"Yes, yes, that isn't as important as knowing where to get more is." "Get more?"

"Ransom, Doctor, ransom!" she said and left on the echo of that cryptic remark.

She fortified herself by chanting "twenty-eight" all the way back to the hangar, which was now as crammed full of busy folk as it had been empty earlier. She let herself into the office she usually shared with Zainal and plunked herself down at the first available station, flipping on the computer. She only needed to type a few lists. Like all twenty-eight countries and the major producers of finished coffee products.

What measure should they use in figuring worth? Would coffee beans be as valuable to the Catteni as gold? Hmmm. Imagine a scoop of freshly roasted beans being as valuable as a similar weight of gold? She chuckled to herself and began to type. "There are twenty-eight coffee-producing countries on Earth-in South America, Africa, Indonesia, Asia, and various Caribbean countries and they can't all have been ransacked by the Catteni."

The noise of happy laughter made her look up and peer out of the open hangar door just as an air sled, crammed with young people, every one of them festooned with the limp bodies of rock squats, lurched by.

And how much were rock squats worth by the pound? The ounce? The individual critter? Had anyone ever opened a shop with such diverse commodities?

"A carton a carcass?" The slogan slipped into her mind. Well, that would do until another crossed her mind.