by neetha Napew
Chuck never found waiting easy, and it was almost twice as bad in the heavier gravity of Catten. At least, when he and Bert were safely alone on the ship, they could play poker. Right now, Bert owed him a small fortune and had suggested bezique as a change of game. Chuck had learned that game from an English commando and, though he didn’t win as often, he didn’t lose much either.
WORKING KITCHEN DUTY on Botany had a few rewards, like first samplings of the day s baking and first serving of lunch, before the crowds started in. There were always options: sandwiches which people could take to eat elsewhere, or a quick snack of soup and bread at a table, or a more leisurely meal. On a fair summer’s day like today, many chose to take their food outside and enjoy the fine weather. That meant less washing up to be done. Paper plates had once been discussed but paper was too valuable for other necessities to be wasted when pottery was available. Pottery and some finer china as well, now that Sandy had a full kiln again, bigger than her first ones at Ayres Rock on the Farmers’ continent. Those who had bartered for a fine china plate did not use it to eat off ofespecially the hand-painted ones, which were hung as wall decorations or displayed on the mantelpiece.
Since this sort of mechanical work required no great mental effort, Kris occupied her thoughts with whether or not she should say anything about her pregnancy. She had imaginary discussions with Mavis, who did a lot of the midwifery, about the effects of heavier gravity on an unborn child. She ran several scenarios on telling Chuck that he was going to be a father—even if both of them had been too drunk to know what they were doing.
That was almost a pity, in a way, but in another, a relief. Chuck might well be mortified to think he had abused her—but, hell, she hadn’t resisted and she could have—since he seemed to be seeing a lot of Dorothy Dwardie.
Kris rather hoped her having Chuck’s child wouldn’t complicate that arrangement.
She’d be quite willing to explain the circumstances to Dorothy. It certainly hadn’t been premeditated... not in that gravity! She shook her head because she kept trying to imagine how they had managed, both of them damned near wrecked with the heaviness and alcohol. But not completely wrecked, Kris told herself. Let’s face that fact squarely. I’ll simply have to give up drinking any more than a glass of hooch unless Zainal is with me.
About then, she realized that she had seen none of the Council eating in the mess hall. She’d been out in the main hall often enough, making sure that surfaces were clean for the next diners or picking up stray cups and glasses. There were still folks who did not know to clear their tables off.
She had an hour’s rest before she was expected to help with the supper.
So, though she had half an urge to go spend it with Zane, her feet and legs were aching and, if she wished to be efficient this evening, she’d better put them up now.
She almost fell asleep but someone dropping a kettle in the kitchen roused her, and she jumped to her feet and went back in to her duties.
She was tired enough when she got home to shower with Zane, who loved mommy showers, before stowing him in bed. Then she stretched out her weary legs and aching feet up on the bed and arranged the pillows behind her. In broad daylight, she thought in self-deprecation, but she’d just take a short nap.
She was roused, in the dark, wondering what had awakened her. Zainal wasn’t back yet from wherever he’d been working that day. He’d been on the duty roster in the hangar with the other Catteni. Probably kept late at a session of the infamous Ways and Means Committee. That thought amused her as she turned over on her side, the one that would face Zainal when he came to bed, and she went back to sleep.
She had the next morning off, but was due on shift at the com unit for the afternoon. But when she and Zane reached the mess hall for breakfast, the place was full of the exciting news that, sometime during the night, the Eosi ships had given up their attack and left.
She was as excited as everyone else and wondered where Zainal and the other Catteni were. Everyone was as dizzy with relief as she was. But that didn’t mean she’d have the shift off. For all anyone knew, the Eosi had only taken a breather to reload or something.
She did look around for Chuck, but didn’t spot him. She should inform him of his imminent fatherhood. She should also, she told herself sternly, make an appointment for a prenatal checkup at the infirmary. And find out, if she could, about the effects of gravity on the unborn. What had that tide been: “The Effects of Moonlight on Man in the Moon Marigolds”? No, no, no. So she bored around in her memory for the exact title. She’d read the book-oh so very long ago now. In another life entirely. “The Man in the Moon Marigolds.. ;’ no, that wasn’t it, either.
Suddenly Mavis rushed up to her. “Kris, can you help us? We have a concussion patient. Needs someone with him, and we’re short of staff since John took a bunch off on his run to Dystopia and the other two.”
“I’m due on com watch,” she said, and Mavis waved that aside.
“Beth can take that. She’s got enough Catteni. It’s Bart, and I know you like him and he likes you.”
“Bart?” Kris was instantly on her feet. “What happened?” she asked as she and Mavis made their way out of the hall. ‘I’ll just drop Zane off.
How’d Bart get a concussion?”
“Fell off his ladder putting slates on the roof. Nearly splattered his brains on the flagstones. He should pull round but we need some one to monitor him in case there’s a significant change.”
“That’s me.”
Maizie was at the gate into the fenced area, and she blinked in pleasure at the sight of Zane in Kris’ arms.
“One day that child will surprise herself and smile;’ Mavis said.
“Maizie, Maizie, Maizie;’ Zane chanted, reaching for her and Kris lifted him over the pickets.
“Yes, thank you,” Maizie said very distinctly.
“You’re quite welcome,” and to Sally Stoffer, “I’ll be at the infirmary.”
B Y THE FIFTH H OUR, Kris would have changed duties with anyone.
Glad as she was to sit after yesterday’s kitchen duty, enough was enough.
Bart was on one of the cardiac monitors but that didn’t give much indication of what was happening in his cranium. His color, generally a dark creamed-coffee, was not tinged with any lividity. The wound had been sutured and sealed with nu-skin, another of the items “liberated” from hospital stores on Earth. She’d seen enough of Mayock’s neat handiwork to recognize it. Nine stitches from just above the hairline, skewed to the right brow. Quite a gash but it would be the fracture under the skin that would be worrying. Whatever X-ray had been taken was at the nurses’ duty station.
Did no one notice that a state-of-the-art X-ray unit had gone missing on Earth?
IN HIS AIR-CONDITIONED OFFICE ON EARTH, Emassi Plovine, struggling with the printouts of ship IDs registered as landing in Catteni fields across the globe, was puzzled by some anomalies in the records. He had received a stern reprimand from the Mentat who had ordered the use of three G-class ships for the bombardment of that wretched enclosed planet, and Plovine had been unable to locate them. He had had interviews with four indignant Emassi who had reported, as ordered, to the bays where the G-ships should have been awaiting them, to find them gone.
Two from the main Catteni landing site, once named Houston, and one from the eastern continent. Reports of the departure of these ships seemed perfectly normal and the ships had taken off with no untoward problems.
Except that the duty officers had been told that the crew assignments had been altered. Since that happened frequently enough these days, with the Mentats being more erratic than ever, no one had questioned the changes.
Until the Ix Mentat had demanded, not requested, the Mentat in charge of subduing the Terran rebellions, to deliver all G-and-over-class ships available to help bombard the planet, which was defying Eosi control.
Plovine’s search had been thorough but the results mystifying. Indeed, one cargo vessel ful
l of slaves, due to be sent to one of the cold planets that had far too many slave deaths, had taken off with them on schedule but never arrived at its destination. The Emassi governor of that planet was now demanding more slaves or he would have to close down operations. Even Rassi could do this sort of work. Probably better. But, by edict of the Eosi, no Rassi was ever taken from Catten.
There was also the matter of huge charges made against the accounts of three K-class ships which he finally discovered have been written off as no longer in service: one had blown up in space, with suitable debris to make a positive identification of the KDL. Another had disappeared on a routine voyage. The third had taken off from Barevi with a full cargo but never arrived at its destination, and it had been in the company of a KDI of which there seemed to be two by that designation.
Not to mention the duplication of cargo vessels, both sent to a mining planet to collect ores. The cargo had been duly loaded onto a carrier, and later the ore had been logged into the refinery on Catteni, but a second ship had arrived at the mining planet two days after the first, expecting to load up immediately. The captain had lodged a formal complaint since he had had to wait until the mine superintendent had been able—by increasing the hours of his workforce—to extract enough ore to fill the second ship, as the Emassi of the cargo ship had no wish to return empty of goods and receive reprimands from his superiors.
“Very irregular, very irregular,” Emassi Plovine said as he wrote up his findings. At least he had concrete proof that what he had discovered could be verified. Only where had so many ships disappeared? And did it matter?
WHEN ORDERS HAD COME from nineteen Mentats that the Ix Men-tat was to cease and desist its attempt to penetrate the Bubble, the juniors expected it to have a second seizure. The Ix Mentat could not, however, disobey such an order. It had to issue the commands to cease the barrage, despite the fact that resupply ships were on their way to this quadrant.
The Ix replied to that desist order by issuing a demand for a general meeting of Mentats to discuss an alarming and dangerous situation: one, which must be countered as quickly and efficiently as possible.
As the Ix Mentat had the power to call such a meeting, and most of the others of its age and service were as desirous of a meeting to find out why the Ix Mentat was wasting so much in its attempt to penetrate an obviously impenetrable barrier, the summons were sent out in coded bursts to those who would comprise such an assembly. Such a convocation of Mentats occurred rarely enough to provoke considerable speculation among the Emassi who zealously guarding their Mentats. For some, it meant a rare chance to visit the home world and families unseen in the decades of their service to a Mentat. For others, it meant giving up comfortable quarters to squeeze into whatever accommodations might be available on the space station. Of course, the Mentats would be safe on the station. Safer than they would be in the luxurious homes they kept on the surface of the planet.
Many other Emassi, not in personal service to the Eosi, decided to take the chance of arranging for personal interviews with Mentats about this favor or that new condition. So, many ships converged on Catten over the next few weeks while the Mentats returned from their far-flung dominions.
Codes had been set and, if the incoming ships properly answered these, the guardian ships protecting the space station allowed them to pass. A few could not and were immediately taken to one of Cattens moons until the Mentat convocation had ended.
Had Emassi Plovine been recalled from Earth, some of the anomalies he was searching for might have been solved: two vessels, a K-class and an exploratory scout, both listed as lost in space, would have been of particular interest to him. But he had forwarded his report to the Mentat Governor of Earth.
Ships that left Catten outward-bound were neither stopped nor searched by the patrols, though their departures were noted on the duty sheets.
BY THE TIME THE KDL RETURNED to Botany with the mates and families of fifty Emassi, Kris had already discovered that Zainal with his Catteni colleagues had left Botany and that the Ways and Means Committee had been disbanded. A lot of her usual friends, who had never been used as crew, were also missing. She finally cornered Coo who gave her a big Deski smile and said, “All gone. Fix valley.”
“Fix? Fix for what, Coo?” Although images of Eosi trapped in an enclosed valley for the rest of their unnatural lives had a certain appeal to her, she did not think those were the intended “guests.”
“I go help fix. Good idea.”
No one else seemed to know, even Bart, who usually heard rumors other people didn’t. He was on light duties since he was still on the sick list from the skull fracture.
“I don’t know, and I gotta tell you, Kris, I hate like hell not knowing.”
She agreed completely with Bart. Leon Dane was missing from the infirmary, and all Mavis could say, and she was telling the truth, was that he had taken off for a few days’ rest.
She had Zane and, when she discovered that Sarah and Joe had gone off as well, leaving Maizie and Tony in the crche, she opted for a change of duty and worked in the crche instead of hangar duty. Maizie seemed to like her and, because Zane was learning to speak, it seemed a good idea to include Maizie in her informal lessons.
Ray Scott didn’t avoid her and she could almost believe him when he said he didn’t know where Zainal was, but that they’d gone off to make personal contact with other crucially situated dissidents.
“Every important position has to be covered by an Emassi who can be trusted, you know.”
“Why?”
“That I don’t know. Zainal got very reticent about his strategy,” Ray said, and he seemed a bit annoyed with such reticence.
Bull Fetterman didn’t know. Jim Rastancil was wherever everyone else had gone. Ainger was so annoyed that she wouldn’t have asked him if he’d been the only person who did know.
Maizie learned to say “please,” “thank you,” “may I have . . .” and some other useful words and enunciated them more clearly than Zane did.
Clearly Maizie felt safer with him and Tony than with any of the other children, even those who had taken her into their orphan group.
Then one morning at the crche, Kris’ com unit bleeped. It was Beggs.
“Admiral Scott requests that you proceed immediately to the hangar, and be prepared to stay at your destination for several days.”
“How several? Can I bring Zane with me?”
“I have given you the information I have, and no, the child would not be an asset.”
Just like Beggs to consider Zane an “asset” but she gave him a long smacking kiss and told Maizie that she would be back soon and left Maizie clinging to Zane as if he were the elder of the two. That didn’t do her mood any good but she borrowed a runabout, slammed into her cabin and, as she was throwing a change and other needs into a pack, realized she had liquid dribbles drying all down the front of her. Fortunately she did have a recent issue of clothing and changed, cursing under her breath as she hauled the belt tight and then had to let it out over her expanding middle. As she stormed out, she got madder and madder—with Beggs and Scott. She was only halfway to the hangar when she heard the familiar sound of a space-ship coming in to land. Her heart beating faster, she threw the speed bar as far across as it would go and had the pleasure of being on the landing field when the KDL landed.
“Now, Emassi Zainal’ she murmured, “you’ve some explaining to do.”
“Kris, come on. It’s only touching down to pick us up,” Scott called over the loud noise of the idling ship engine, beckoning her to hurry. He looked her up and down with a very admiralish stare that made her realize that he was sharply dressed, too.
“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, Admiral Scott.. :’ she began as the ramp extruded partway: enough to jump up to the personnel hatch open in the cargo door.
‘I’ll explain it when we get where we’re going. Climb aboard:’
She did because he was hauling away at her arms, and she ref
used to be manhandled even by Admiral Ray Scott.
She caught just a glimpse of a lot of people sitting or lying on the cargo level, and then he was guiding her toward the bridge, past Ninety who seemed to be standing guard. Which he well might have been because she realized that all the faces had been Catteni.
“What the hell...”
“They’re the women and children of the dissidents who were based on Catten and therefore at risk;’ Ray said, briskly urging her toward the bridge.
Well, she could understand the wisdom of getting dependants safely away from Eosian retaliation. The abuse that Zainal’s two sons had suffered certainly made that a priority.
“Zainal got them out?”
“Ah, more or less. We’re installing them in the largest of the enclosed valleys. They’ll be safe there.”
That made sense because not all of the Headquarters valley’s buildings had been taken down, so expanding that facility was a perfect solution.
Then there was another aspect of a shipload of Catteni arriving at Retreat.
One Catteni, even four, wouldn’t raise much resentment at Retreat, but an influx of mates and children could be a source of irritation.
Gino waved a backhanded “hi” in her direction, and Raisha shot a quick look around as the two pilots lifted the ship from the hangar field.
Everyone else on the bridge gave her a nod or a smile. They were all, Kris noticed, those who had a fair knowledge of Catten.
“Kris,” Gino began in an odd voice and paused to clear his throat, “the plan is that you’ll act Emassi to our... guests. Zainal said you’d had practice. He said them knowing there was someone in charge of them might help in the long run.”