by neetha Napew
“The ship will explode?” Mitford asked, jutting out his chin.
“An explosion can be made with metal left in space to prove accident. That is why it is very necessary to get the scout ship first. It can dump garbage into space. Then, we have two ships.”
“Only one of them is not in good shape,’ Mitford pointed out.
Zainal shook his head in denial. ‘Many people here are trained to work with machinery. I am not just pilot. I know how to . . .” He tapped an impatient finger on the worktop as he searched for a word, ‘to . . . repair as well.” He grinned. ‘I have faith in your people, Mitford. Have faith in me.” ‘Jesus, Zainal, I do, believe me,’ Mitford said forcefully, slamming both palms flat on the table. “And I think that goes for all here.” That vote of confidence was immediately seconded. ‘And it would be great to know we’re not stuck any more on .
. .” He paused, looked surprised and then laughed.
“You know, I’m not as eager to leave Botany as I used to be.” He brushed away that candid remark. ‘Won’t the Emassi retaliate on Earth when they’ve lost both a scout and a transport here on Botany?” ‘I don’t think they would,’ Leon Dane spoke up with a wry grin. ‘The Catteni I met considered us a short step above aborigines. Our sabotage and revolts are annoyances that will stop when the leaders are all rounded up and dropped here.” ‘Or elsewhere.” Zainal disconcerted them all by that qualification. ‘There are other planets that need to be . . . tested for occupation. Not this one alone. I do have one worry,’ and he glanced at Worrell.
“I’m almost glad to hear that,’ Mitford answered drolly.
“What?” ‘That Lenvec, who came in the first scout ship, speaks to a higher commander that we have technology not sent with us.
That this planet is in use. That is another reason to capture me again.”
“How big are the odds he’s done that?”
Zainal looked dubious. ‘He can be persuasive but,’ and now he gave a snort, ‘many Catteni believe only what they like to believe.”
“Just like some humans I know,’ Leon said in a caustic tone.
“So, we might even have something to defend ourselves with if the Farmers come looking for us,’ said Worrell, looking relieved.
Zainal shook his head. ‘Only scout has weapons. But two is better than nothing, and there are other uses for a scout.”
“Our own exploratory missions?” Mitford asked.
“I myself will like to know who the other owners are. Don’t you?” and Zainal dropped yet another startling proposal. He grinned.
“Also, it is not the Catteni who are your real enemy. It is the Eosi.
Who farms this planet, who left that command tower, may be stronger, wiser and better than Eosi.” He leaned back then, watching Mitford’s expression changing as he absorbed this concept. ‘I do not want Eosi controlling my people any more. Or yours. This is the first time I think there is the chance to end Eosi.” ‘Well, I’ll be fucked,’ Mitford murmured, dropping his shoulders as he relaxed in complete surprise at Zainal. He began to grin and a laugh started in his belly, a laugh that was joined by Leon Dane’s yowl of approval and Worrell’s expression of sheer incredulous delight.
“So that’s what you hatched up on the way back here last night,’ Kris said, eyeing him drolly.
“Isn’t that taking on one helluva lot?” Mitford asked, but the gleam in his eye and the jut of his jaw suggested a measure of approval.
“Yes,’ and Zainal shrugged. ‘Why not?”
Mitford slapped the table again and gave another burst of laughter. ‘Yeah, why not?” ‘We can try . . .” Leon said, swatting his thigh with one hand in emphasis. ‘By God, I want to!” ‘Do you think we should?” asked Worrell, hitching his pants with his elbows.
“I mean, they may be mad enough at us for what we’ve already done to their neat agricultural enterprise . . .”
“But who put us here in the first place?” asked Kris. ‘Only why
do you have to pretend the transport explodes? And why do you
have to be careful returning the scout to Botany?”I “We must joke the satellite.” ‘Joke?” Mitford raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, fool.” ‘Satellite?” Worrell exclaimed, anxiously.
Zainal held up the slim unit. ‘They have one because this relays the messages. A satellite is standard for any colony planet.
It sends in reports. It must send in the right . . . fool it.”
t ones so we . . . ah
“Clarify one point for me, will you, Zainal?” Mitford asked and when Zainal nodded, he went on, ‘Why do they want you so bad for that duty you don’t want any part of?” Zainal gave a harsh laugh. ‘I was chosen for it by Eosi. They can choose someone else now.”
“Just what is that duty?” Mitford asked, at his bluntest.
The change in Zainal’s posture and face, though subtle, sent chills down Kris’s spine and caused Mitford to recoil slightly.
“Eosi use your body.” Then, with a second almost imperceptible change which emphatically told Kris that he would not elaborate on that subject, he went on, ‘So, do we take the scout ship?” His expression altered back to his usual bland one as he looked around at the expectant expressions of Kris, Dane and Worrell before settling his gaze on Mitford. ‘That much is possible, but we must act tonight.
Kris must learn what to say.
I need Bert Put and woman. Is that possible?” ‘Can do,’ Mitford said and reached for the hand-held com, tapping out the code for Camp Narrow. “Yo, Latore? Send Bert Put and Raisha Simonova up here on the double, will ye?
Something’s come up. We need them before . . .” he glanced at Zainal who held up two fingers, ‘second moonrise. Okay?” Then he paused, his eyes flickering with rapid thoughts. ‘We’ll call this Phase One, and all of it stays among us.” The others nodded.
“Phase Two we’ll talk about if Phase One works.”
“It will work,’ Zainal said with absolute confidence.
“Phase Three . . .” and Mitford pointed a finger at Zainal, ‘is going to need a lot more thinking.”
Zainal was in total agreement.
“Dammit, serge,’ said Leon Dane staunchly, ‘even the merei, notion of .
. . Phase Three . . . puts heart in me. Think what it.t
can do to the general morale?”
“I do,’ and Mitford’s voice had dropped to a growl, ‘and I don’t want even a whisper of a happy smile on your faces when you leave here.
We’re doing well enough right now, better all the time, and I don’t want to have to deal with false hopes. Let’s take it a step at a time.” “Don’t you mean a phase at a time?” Kris asked, stifling a desire to giggle.
Actually she wanted to cheer wildly for the surge of hope that Zainal’s master-plan had personally given her. Securing the first ship would be a big enough coup. Hijacking a transport would prove to everyone on Botany that they could get their own back on the Catteni.
She wasn’t at all sure about Phase Three, but having two space-going ships gave them a positive advantage in finding whoever did own Botany.
Would a Catteni scout ship be able to keep up with the monstrous leviathans sent by the Farmers to collect the harvests of Botany?
First, shetold herself firmly, get it, then dream. And, if they were a species that resented having their supply planets taken over by another space-faring power, maybe Phase Three would happen. And both Earth and Catten might get free of Eosian domination.
“Right,’ and Mitford gave her an odd smile, ‘hijacking spaceships sure beats sitting around waiting for the next Drop-ins.” He caught Zainal’s eyes and began ticking off details on his fingers. ‘You teach Kris what to say to get the scout down here by second moonrise?” Zainal nodded. ‘So, if the scout buys it, they come down, leave the ship . .
. only how’ll they know you’re there to be picked up? I can’t volunteer anyone at night out on a field . . .” ‘Air-cushioned vehicles attract no night-crawlers,’ Zainal
said, grinning.
“On the way back,’ Kris added, ‘we found out that the full moon’s enough to keep power up.” ‘Good point,’ and Mitford went on, ‘So we’ve got stand-ins far enough up the field . . .” ‘Vehicle will move towards Catteni,’ Zainal said, nodding.
“But not fast because they carry heavy load.” He thumbed his chest. The.” ‘Good . . . so there’s enough time for the night-crawlers to attack. What about the Catteni shooting ‘em? That Lenvec Emassi saw what night-crawlers do.” Zainal shrugged. ‘Winter night-crawlers are very hungry, very fast and grab feet. Or we can be humane,’ and he grinned as he saw the reaction to the word, ‘and kill before they know. We have fast and silent weapons. Lance, crossbow, slingshot.”
“Won’t they leave a man on board?” asked Mitford.
Zainal shrugged. ‘I am drugged. It will take two-three to carry me. If is one, once we open hatch, it is over for him.” He tapped the knife at his belt.
Mitford made an approving sort of grimace. ‘All right . . .
Everything goes according to plan and you, with your crew, take off and do your disappearing act. One small detail. Kris might be useful to lure the pick-up squad down but if you are overcoming a crew, would you not kill off the female first, the one who drugged you?” Zainal slowly nodded his head, perceptive enough to know what Mitford did not spell out. ‘Leon speaks Catteni. I cannot talk because they have record of my voice. Leon can give final message.” ‘point,’ end Mitford looked at Kris. ‘You understand, don’t you?” Kris did, and did not bother to hide the bitterness she felt for such a suggestion.
“You will go to space another time,’ Zainal told her, looking from Mitford to her.
“Now, wait a minute, Mitford,’ Dane began to protest.
“Leon will speak the necessary dying words,’ Zainal said firmly, his eyes still holding Kris’s. ‘It reassures.” ‘It had better,’ and Kris glared fiercely at Mitford for his insulting contingency.
“Why do you need Bert and Raisha?” Worrell asked.
“They need to have a first lesson in flying a scout. More people who know is better.” Zainal put an odd smile on his face. ‘And soon.” ‘I’ll buy that,’ said Mitford, shifting his eyes anywhere but in Kris’s direction. ‘Phase One is green for go . . . and definitely top security. Use your team, Zainal for the driving and . . . the executions. Slav and Fek see well in the dark. I’ll send Bert and Raisha to you as soon as they get here.” Then, in a complete change of voice and manner, ‘Did your patrol find anything interesting before you were recalled for this?” Astonished by that ‘business-as-usual’ switch, even in Mitford, Kris glared at him.
“A very interesting valley,’ Zainal said, rising and popping the unit up into his pocket before he picked up the sack of empty boots.
Leon took charge of the medical items. ‘Let Joe and others debrief.” Then he held out his free hand to’Kris. ‘Now, you must to learn to speak like Catten female.” ‘I thought I’d already done that well enough to fool a Catten,’ she said, cocking her head at him and reminding him of the episode when ‘she’ had suddenly become his ‘leaders in front of the Emassi.
“We will improve the fool,’ he said and gestured for her to precede him.
“No, joke is the right word in that context,’ she murmured, still trying to defuse the anger she felt over Mitford’s show of distrust.
The trouble was, she could see his point and that made her madder still.
Surely he couldn’t doubt Zainal’s integrity?
“After all you’ve done,’ Leon Dane muttered, exiting behind them.
“Not to worry, Leon,’ Zainal said.
“I do all the worrying,’ said Worrell, but his tone made it obvious that he felt Mitford’s precaution of keeping Kris out of space unnecessary.
“Don’t worry about tonight,’ Zainal said- sounding, to Kris’s ears, far too cheerful considering what he had just set into motion.
Then Kris found her mind going back to the echo of his colourless voice
saying, ‘Eosi use your body.” Small wonder he
r
wanted to avoid that duty. She knew without a doubt that he would have hated possession. And yet, his original comment on ‘that duty’ had indicated that it was considered an honour for an Emassi, and one they undertook with some pride. Had Botany wrought a great change in him, or was it simply that he now had an escape from such a hideous future? Then she began to wonder how deeply the possession went: was just the body used as a vehicle for these mysterious Eosi? Or did they subsume the entire personality, leaving nothing of the original man?
Or . . . what?
“Don’t think about it,’ Zainal said softly, touching her elbow as they reached ground level. ‘I do not mean Mitford.” Then he hailed the other members of their team, obviously waiting a turn to report to Mitford. ‘Go on up. He’s waiting to debrief you.” ‘We’re in our usual abode,’ Sarah told them as she followed Joe up the steps. “We’ve already put your gear there.” ‘Good. We have a small job to do at second moonrise. I tell you later.” Kris knew Sarah was dying to ask what that was about, or why had Dane and Worrell also been in Mitford’s office for an ordinary scout debriefing.
“We swim first?” Zainal asked as they made their way to their quarters in Michelstown cave.
“You bet. I think better cleaner,’ Kris said and besides, not only could she use the immersion in the cold waters of the lake to reduce her anger but she also needed the privacy with Zainal . . . if they had the lake to themselves.
They did, and there had been clean coveralls in their quarters to change into. Zainal put the Catteni communicator carefully in the pouch with his portable unit in his fresh clothing before they left for their wash.
He seemed as eager to make this a special occasion, too. They spent
time soaping each other and then swimming exuberant lengths against the
lake’s deep current within the roped safety
l
i area before emerging to dry each other off. That led to a chance to release tension. In moments like these, Kris wondered just how much Zainal really did deviate - no, differ - from other Catteni and even Emassi. She knew that her association with Zainal was not universally accepted. There were incidents of spitefulness with each new Drop but gradually, over the past months, that had altered - with very few exceptions - when most Botany settlers learned just how much they owed to Zainal’s presence on the planet. Xenophobia was not encouraged by Mitford or Easley, or any of those involved in introducing the new world to its whilom residents.
Her pleasurable ruminations were rudely interrupted the moment they started back up the stairs to the main cavern, as Zainal barked sounds at her.
“We’re starting already?”
“Second moon rises soon. You must be ready.”
..
“I gotta know what the sounds mean, Zainal,’ she complained.
“Get the sound right and then I tell you meanings,’ he said, and repeated the four staccato syllables which she did her best to imitate . . . though the combination of fricatives was enough to choke her.
She’d already noticed that characteristic of the Catten language. Sort of like German with a French accent . . .
or maybe guttural French with a very bad German accent, and a little Chinese for seasoning.
She managed to get the first set of syllables to his satisfaction by the time they reached the main cavern. Food was still being served, and they stood in line for their portions which they took to the privacy of one of the look-out levels, out of earshot from those who were enjoying their meal outside in the mild evening.
Botany’s primary had not yet set but the first moon was already above the eastern hills, a pale ghost in what was left of sunlight.
That reminded Kris that time was a constraint.
Because she had always learned better using visual aids, Kris took a sharp pebble and scratched out the phonetics of what Zainal coached her to say . . . as
well as she could. Just when she though her mimicry was accurate, Zainal would shake his head.
“What’s the matter with that?”
He shook his head again but patted her shoulder. ‘You don’t I
sound . . . mean.”
“Mean?”
He growled out the words she now knew meant, ‘Report.
Found Zainal. He fought hard. Two dead. He is drugged. Land where
Lenvec did. No lights. Meet in field.” She tried again, as deep in her
throat as she could, stillI realizing that even that wasn’t perfect.I
“Look, I’ll growl a whisper. How’ll they know the difference?”
“They might.” Then he held up his hand. ‘What was it that Leon did to sound hoarse?” ‘Grabbed his throat,’ end doing that, she repeated the phrases once again, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally strangle herself.
“That’s it,’ Zainal said, bringing both his hands together in a clap of approval. ‘Now, listen . . .” and he rattled off a sentence of which she understood three words: ‘Report’ ‘dead’ and ‘land’.
She told him what she understood.
“You may be asked. You must know what to answer to any question.”
“What about “I don’t know?”’
“You must sound as if you do know all. So, say first “Chouma” quiet - as if you can be overheard. Then “Schkelk” . . .” and Kris sat upright with surprise because she knew what that meant.
“Listen?”
Zainal grinned with surprise as he nodded. ‘Say as harsh as you can because you are dealing with a stupid person.” ‘I heard it said that way often enough on Barevi,’ Kris said in a rueful tone, and then spat out the word with appropriate venom. Zainal laughed and gave her hand an approving squeeze.
“Just use that tone with all the words and they will not argue