by neetha Napew
“What about if there’s a fast ship just waiting for us to try something like that?”
“There are ways,” Zainal said with a grin. “That scout is much faster than anything but another scout. Such ships are never used as watchers.”
Aarens shrugged and sat down.
“That is the first step,” Zainal said.
“If you’re going back to Barevi, I’ve a long shopping list,” someone said and received a chuckle.
“No, Barevi would be too hot for us right now,” Zainal said. “We go to Earth and we use two ships; the scout and the KDM which will renamed and altered to look as if it had been hit by space... stuff.”
“That metal’ll be hard to dent,” Gino said, shaking his head. “You Cat-teni make a good hull.”
“It’ll be camouflaged;’ Hassan Moussa said and grinned. “I’m a past master at that.”
“But going back to Earth?” Aarens asked, stunned.
“Last place they will expect us.” And Zainal turned to one of the Victims who nodded agreement. “Ricky Farmer here was senior air controller for O’Hare airport while there was still Human air traffic. When all your planes were grounded and he was victimized, he took notes on Catteni routes and procedures. He has code words—though his Catteni is about what my English once was;’ and that rated some chuckles from the audience, “and these will help us get into some of the landing places now used by Catteni transport ships. I understand from Jeff Fawcett,” and he gestured to the other Victim, “that large amusement areas have been built around the landing sites for the crews. These would be useful places for us to find out more information.”
“You mean, that cool as a cucumber, we’re going to reinvade Earth?”
Lenny Doyle said.
“We also intend to...” and Zainal had the merest smile on his lips, “invade Catten.”
That provoked a widespread eruption from the audience, more an elated one than fearful, although quite a few faces bore skeptical expressions.
“Hey, ain’t that pushing our luck?” Lenny Doyle asked, raising his voice to be heard above the babel.
“Only volunteers,” Zainal said with a sly grin. “And mostly to learn
what would be impossible to learn on your planet. More codes are needed
and Catten is the only place to go for that;’
Kris waited for someone to ask what was so obvious to her: if Zainal was going to contact Catteni dissidents. She didn’t know how many people on Botany—besides Chuck Mitford—knew anything about that facet of his grand scheme. Surely Zainal would have confided in Ray his hopes that he could muster assistance on his home planet to help overthrow the Eosi.
“We got to have information we can’t get any other way,” Ray Scott put in. Kris heaved a small sigh of relief. Ray did know and seemingly ap”We’re also going to ask for volunteers to remain on Earth and con-the resistance groups.”
“I don’t know all of them;’ Jeff Fawcett said in a voice still hoarse from . recent ordeal. “But enough for us to get the word spread.
“Jeff’s also going to need a volunteer to go with him;’ Scott said, ‘
from the First or Second Drops.. ;’
The number of hands that shot into the air gave Kris a thrill of pride.
most eager had jumped t°their feet, to establish their willingness: Joe Latore, both the Doyle brothers, Mack Dargle, Bart Lincoln, Matt Su, and / Areson were those she recognized first in the show of hands.
“Thank you very much;’ Zainal said.
Granfyng, most graufymg, Ray satd, holding up his hand, too, as did all the other military men seated at the table. “More than the ships can ?hold.”
“Some must speak and understand Catten,” Zainal said.
“We’re learning;’ quipped someone.
“You will learn harder;’ Zainal said with a wry expression.
“What about the Farmers?” Jay Greene asked when the laughter at (that threat died. “Shouldn’t we wait for their response? And their advice?”
“No, the time to move is now;’ Scott said.
Zainal stood. “The Eosi will try very hard to break through the Bubble.
That is their way. Run shod roughly over any opposition with the force
ii of their weapons. We must leave before they reinforce their
warships. They have many:’
“But they haven’t been able to penetrate the Bubble, and we know they’ve tried;’ Jay said.
“They will keep trying until they have;’ Zainal said. “That is why they tried to discover new information in the minds of your specialists)’
Dick Aarens jumped to his feet, his expression angry and obstinate.
“And what happens to those of us left here when they do break through the Bubble? Have you contingency plans for that—if you’re taking all three ships away with you?”
“We move quickly and not where they expect us to go and learn what they plan and how to . . .” Zainal looked down at Kris for the word he needed.
“Counteract;’ she murmured.
“Counteract their plans.”
“We’re still fleas on a dog’s back/’ Jay said, “with all the ships you said they have. I was talking to Rick Farmer, and he says they’ve got hundreds in their navy. What if they use all of them against the Bubble?”
Judge Iri Bempechat raised his hand and was given precedence over others who wanted to add their comments.
“Zainal, such a fleet is widely dispersed, is it not?” And when Zainal
nodded, the Judge went on, still looking at Zainal, “and it would take
weeks, even months, to direct them all here. So we have some leeway if
we make our moves quickly. Admiral Scott believes that they would try
to install a battery on the moons that are outside the Bubble. To do
so, they must bring in machinery, material—and life support systems for
whichever unfortunate species is drafted for such an undertaking. I am
also of the opinion, with which our military and naval representatives
concur/’ and, with one hand on his chest, he bowed his head to the right
and left, “that the Farmers must have placed some sort of sentinel to
monitor our protective Bubble. They made it clear, in that one
regrettably short interview with various groups of us, that they intend
to preserve us. I believed in their sincerity as well as their interest
in us... even if it should be the interest of a scientist watching ants
to see how they contrive—“
“Now, wait a bloody minute...” and Geoffrey Ainger jumped to his feet. Kris had not noticed him, seated at the back, and wasn’t happy at his presence. “What is all this going to do for us? Except put the colony in more danger? Simply because one.. ;’ and his pause was pregnant with his distrust and animosity toward Zainal, “... person wants to pursue a private revenge?”
“First duty of a captured soldier... sir.. ;’ and it was a stern Mitford whose parade ground voice dominated the shouted reactions from an angry audience, “is to do his best to escape and return to his unit. Mine is on Earth. And if Zainal wants to see his people freed of the Eosian domination, we sure as hell do, too, cause it means we’ll get out from under ‘era.
Militarily, a combined assault has many advantages;’
That speech set the cat among the pigeons, Kris thought, struggling to keep from cheering. Or maybe the night crawlers after live meat.
Ray Scott, with help from Peter Easley and udge Bempechat, finally restored enough order to continue the meeting. Easley had been discreetly seated to one side where Kris had not noticed him. Not too far, as it turned out, from Ainger. Not far either from Beggs, whom she saw sitting by the British ex-naval officer. Had Pete sat there to keep an eye on those dissidents?
Quite likely, she thought.
“You gave me the impression, sergeant, that you had no wish to leave Botany now;�
�� Ainger could put a wealth of venom in a seemingly casual comment.
“I don’t, but I’ll do a great deal to preserve what we all have made here.
So I can enjoy what I’ve—we’ve—worked so hard to achieve.” Satisfied with the applause to his answer, Chuck sat down again.
“There are risks,” Ray said, once more taking charge of the proceedings.
“Most of you can figure them out without much help but, if our people on Earth knew that there was an organized space resistance to the Cat I mean, the Eosian overlords—it would give them heart and purpose against the tremendous odds they’ve had to deal with. Especially if we can also prove that we’ve rescued the ones the Eosi were brain-wiping.”
“Speaking of tremendous odds, admiralre” And Ainger was again on his feet. “Just how large a fleet exists? That’s pertinent even if getting the entire naval arm of the Catteni here would take time:’ He looked directly at Zainal for the answer.
“Some of the oldest ships in service are slow and their equipment obsolete;’ Zainal replied. “There are only four of heavy—new in service dreadnoughts, did you call them, Ray—“ And when Scott nodded, he went on, “that much information Admiral Scott and I learned on Barevi. Until just recently spaceship builders have been concentrating on producing ships like the KDL and KDM, to replace those no longer space-worthy, like the first ship we attacked.”
“So what sort of ships and weaponry do they have to bombard those of us left behind on Botany?” Ainger asked.
Boy, thought Kris, that Ainger has a bad negative attitude.
“Only the four of the dreadnoughts but there are . . . ships of the line... which are able to destroy satellites, small moons, and large asteroids.
To my knowledge, which is now not up to date, there are thirty of them.
They are assault vessels, which supported the kind of large transport
that landed on your planet. They are larger than the two K-class we
have here;’
Ray Scott leaned over the table toward Ainger. “Zainal has given us a
list of the types of spacecraft used by the... urn... navy. We’ve
also been able to get a fair translation of the data from the scout
ship, so we have useful details about range, crew complement, firepower,
and maneuverability of all types, except the dreadnoughts, which are so
new. You are certainly welcome to peruse the data at your leisure:’
Ainger waved away that offer with a flick of his fingers. “Those of us remaining on Botany are going to be vulnerable...”
“Only if the Bubble fails,” Ray Scott said in a testy tone, “which seems unlikely, given the advanced technology of the Farmers which is so upsetting the Eosi.” Then he deliberately looked away from Ainger. “So we have three expeditions to mount: first, a reconnaissance at the Bubble edge; second, sending off both the scout and one transport to Earth to see what—“ he grinned “—trouble we can cause there and how we can help the resistance movements; and third, an information-gathering jaunt to Catten. I think that has to be under your command, Zainal,” and he nodded in his direction, “with your choice of crew but we’ll accept volunteers for both expeditions.”
“Who gets to peek out of the Bubble?”
Zainal stood. “A full crew.” Then he pointed at individuals. “Gino, Raisha, Bert, Laughrey, Boris, and Hassan. Those only who speak good Cat-teni and are the right size will come with me;’ and his eyes flickered briefly at Kris.
“We feel we should pack the Earth expedition with as many infiltra tots as possible;’ Ray said and had to raise his hand to finish his sentence when most of his listeners rose and shouted out their names, “to spread the good word.”
“What if there’re some traitors among us?” Dick Aarens asked.
Ray Scott gave the mechanic a long incredulous look. “How many do you think there could be?”
There were smothered giggles, and Dick Aarens swung about, trying to find the sources.
“Well, there might be,” he muttered with sullen aggressiveness.
“Particularly on the last drop—and even among the Victims. One of them
might have been lying ‘doggo’ for very good reasons. He kept his
brairgtwhile others got them wiped:’
“Now, just a cotton-pickin’ minute.” Will Seissmann was on his feet, shaking a fist at Aarens across the audience.
“Young man.. :’ began Miss Barrow who was red-faced with indignation.
Dr. Ansible was so apoplectic at the mere suggestion that he had to be restrained from diving across two rows of seats to Aarens.
“I’d retract that, were I you,” Peter Easley said.
“I won’t because it damned well is a possibility;’ Aarens said, jutting his jaw out as if asking for a punch which would have many willing to oblige him.
Dorothy Dwardie jumped up. “In my professional opinion, Mr. aarens, there is little possibility of treachery among those who suffered, or even avoided, the Eosi mind-wipe. We have had trauma counseling sessions which would have exposed a quisling.”
Which, Kris devoutly hoped, was accurate. But the suspicion had been raised and would hang there, a dark doubt in everyone’s mind: even among those who had learned a great deal about each other in the years they had worked together on Botany.
Another of the psychology team, Ben Boyalan, rose. “We may have neither a lie detector nor any sodium pentathol but there are ways of testing responses. That is, if anyone feels such a procedure is at all necessary above and beyond our trauma counseling.” He gave Aarens a dire look before he sat down.
“I won’t close what has been a very constructive meeting on that kind of sour note,” Ray Scott said. He was not the only one scowling in Aarens’ direction. “I will summarize what we,” and he indicated the others at the table, “have been planning, and why there is some urgency in the scout making a reconnaissance run. We do take Zainal’s advice that Earth would be the last place the Eosi would look for us to appear,” and he grinned, “and the best place for us to set in motion a coup d%tat. If Zainal is willing to risk his life returning to Catten for the information he considers vital to our ultimate goal of freedom from the Eosian domination, then I wish him all the luck he’ll need and the support of everyone on this planet. We all have many reasons to be grateful he was on that first drop. Don’t we?”
The spontaneous cheering, and the warmth of it, brought tears to Kris’ eyes. She never would have expected that sort of public gratitude...
especially from Ray Scott who had not always agreed with Zainal. The applause and stamping continued for so long that she gave him a nudge to stand and acknowledge it. He did so, with typical diffidence, but his wave of acceptance took in the entire audience and became a formal salute to Ray Scott.
That was when Kris noticed the very satisfied grin on Iri Bempechat’s face. Chuck looked suspiciously bland, one eyebrow twitching while he played with his pencil, slipping it up and down through the fingers of his right hand, a sure sign of complicity. And suddenly Aarens’ niggling little suggestion was only Aarens tossing a spanner in works that didn’t happen to include his participation.
THE VEry¥ NEXT DAY, the designated pilots climbed into Baby, the scout ship, and took off for the peek out of the Bubble’s remarkable material.
They drew straws for takeoff and landing and the other in-flight duties since this was also a training mission.
The official mission directors took places in Ray Scott’s office, grouping around the bridge console, which had been taken from the crash-landed transport that had made the Fifth Drop. So those in Scott’s office would have a chance to see what Baby did and saw. Someone had thought to rig speakers outside the hangar so that the many that wouldn’t find places in the office could at least hear what was going on.
“On site,” Raisha said, her voice ringing with suppressed excitement.
“Still the same space flot. Can’t see that any of
it has moved a centimeter.
Gino’s easing Baby’s nose in between two of the largest of the disks the Eosi vessel left behind.” She chuckled.
“Good choice,” Ray said, grinning. “The geo-synchronous satellite might not even notice we’re looking out.”
“Hold it right here;’ and there was such a change in Raisha’s tone that everyone tensed. “How big did Zainal say the Catteni fleet arm is?”
Apprehensively, Ray looked toward Zainal. The Catten/immediately leaned over the speaker grill.
“How many do you see?” he asked as calmly as if he was asking how many rock squats were visible.
“Two of those dreadnoughts, I think. We’re not entirely outside the Bubble yet but the skin is transparent and we can see out.” What she didn’t add, “and I hope they can’t see in,” hovered unsaid but understood.
Kris felt goosebumps rising on her arms and rubbed them away.
“There are also three flotillas of other smaller craft,” and Hassan
Moussa took over the reporting, “five in each group, beside and above
the two big guys you can probably see on the bridge monitor;’
“Yes, we see them. Are they the dreadnoughts, Zainal?” Ray asked, beckoning for Zainal to stand beside him.
Zainal nodded. “What else?”
“Wouldn’t they be enough?” Jim Rastancil asked facetiously.
Zainal shrugged.
“Hey, we’ve got other junk in the sky,” Hassan continued. “Shall I widen the screen?”
“Yes, please,” Zainal said, crossing his arms on his chest, the picture of objective observer.
“It’s the dreadnoughts I worry about,” Ray said, rubbing his chin nervously.
“What other ships are there, Hassan?” Zainal asked blandly.
“Bulky cargo type carriers and one transport larger than the KDL or KDM.
Heading toward the nearer moon.”
Ray looked at Zainal. “You were right about the moon base. What sort of air-to-ground missiles would they have? Something heavy enough to penetrate the Bubble?”