by neetha Napew
Kris gave him a quick summary while Ferris hung his head in shame for having caused the emergency and bringing trouble to his friends.
“I think Kapash would have loved to press charges, but. . .” Chuck added.
“It was a good notion, Ferris, but you see how careful we have to be here, do you not?” Zainal said, one hand jiggling the thin shoulder, making the boy meet his eyes.
“Yes, Emassi, I do. I will not cause you more trouble.”
“Good lad. Now, we will not mention this to Eric,” Zainal began when a stranger intruded on their circle. Ferris quickly took refuge behind Zainal because it was the toothless man who had barged into them.
“You!” He pointed severely at Ferris. “You will take me to this man who can put my toof back in my jaw!”
“Of course,” Zainal answered pleasantly and gestured in the proper direction.
“I heard of this fellow,” the man said amiably, as if he hadn’t nearly caused Ferris considerable bodily harm. “But first I needed my toof.” The word still came out with a lisp but no one dared grin.
“The procedure takes a little time, does it not, Ferris?” Zainal said, since he knew very little about such matters whereas Ferris had been in constant contact with Eric, absorbing everything the genial dentist said.
“It does,” and there was a little gleam in Ferris’s eye that suggested to Kris that it was not all pleasant either. “But I washed it as Eric told me to do, and kept it safe in that little bag.” He pointed to the man’s pocket, where he had seen him deposit his errant tooth.
“I am indebted to you, young man,” the fellow said, “and I apologize for the market manager’s zeal.”
“It has been well resolved,” Kris said.
“I am Mischik,” the Catteni said, and the others were required by courtesy to name themselves. “You are the Botany folk.”
“We are,” Zainal said proudly.
“And you are truly a Lady Emassi?” Mischik said, lisping more than ever on the double sibilants.
“I am.”
“Remarkable,” he said.
“I know,” she replied equably.
By then they had reached their own aisle and Ferris ran ahead to tell Eric of a new customer. Zainal and Kris hastened to the stall since there seemed to be quite an influx of clients wanting to sample the coffee. More likely, Kris thought, to see if the Botany lad had survived the confrontation with Kapash.
“Nothing like a mild emergency to spread the word,” Kris murmured to Zainal as they served coffee as quickly as they could pour it.
ord indeed had spreadthough the riot Kapash had gone to suppress had notand Eric had many inquiries about his services. He had ministered to Mischik and arranged for him to come back the next day and see if the tooth was settling in. Eric was forthright in saying that the sooner he could restore a tooth the better the chances of success, but Mischik was happy enough to be able to speak without the annoying lisp. Eric assured him that failing the natural reestablishment of the tooth, he could make a bridge to close the gap. Everyone was tired when Zainal announced that they had better close and, after today’s episode with Kapash, everyone was determined not to arouse any further attention from the market commander.
mong the many goals Zainal had set for himself, gaining entrance to the port commander’s office and the port commander’s filesto access the information on the destinations of the slavecarrying ships was topmost on his list. He needed only to get into the facility and find an empty office with a control board to access the information. Another ransom to be executed. It was his responsibility to right that massive wrong done to Kris’s people, even if she felt he was carrying responsibility too far. These Terrans should have been allies, not slaves, to the Catteni. There was the unassailable fact that unless he did something, he doubted those enslaved would ever return home, and with all those captives exiled from their home world, would Humans ever be on good terms with the Catteni?
He was glad that Kris had managed to save Ferris. The boy had been invaluable for discreet reconnaissance and had already saved Zainal from spending time with sellers who had nothing he wanted. Any excuse to waste time and have the chance to drink the fine coffee obviously motivated some of their visitors.
Trading continued briskly all morning and well into the afternoon, when the more prosperous merchants retired for the noonday meal, leaving their goods and stalls in the charge of their seconds. A few came to buy a cup of coffee when their masters had safely disappeared. Zainal hoped it would escape Kapash’s notice that coffee was now for sale. He thought privately that it would take many busy days for what they earned for the beverage to make a substantial profit.
He had to discard that opinion later, after Floss, with Clune very close to her, took over from Kathy Harvey at the coffee bar. Kris had breezily told him that’s what they had invented: the first Barevi coffee bar. There were also rumors that complaints had been issued to the market manager that people were obstructing the way to and from other stalls by gathering thickly in front of the “coffee bar.” By late afternoon, however, they had enough money to rent another stall, which came equippedfor a pricewith tables, chairs, and a proper catering area. Floss, safely ensconced behind the “bar,” dealt capably with the flow of customers and ignored the laughs and remarks from the idlers gathered at Eric’s office.
By early evening, Zainal began to watch for signs of the usual rampage of guards and spacemen who would have spent most of the day drinking. When he felt the time would soon be upon them, and he noticed that other merchants were beginning to close their stalls, he called a halt to the day’s work. Ferris chattered away to Eric as he and Bazil helped pack away the dental office, adding the coffee urn and cups from the main stall. Zainal had seen to it that all the goods they had bartered for had been taken to the BASS1 as soon as the deals were completed. So it was a relatively simple matter to pack up and return to the KDM.
Everyone was hungry and exhilarated by the success of the day, and full of ideas about how they could accomplish more the next.
Even Eric was in good form, having acquired several clients, besides Luxel, for gold crowns. Ditsy had said he should hire the man with the golden smile who had so fortuitously been there when needed.
“If word gets around, Zamal,” Eric said, waiting until Kris could fill his plate again, “I will need an assistant. My clients do not strike me as patient men.”
“Gino and I aren’t doing anything much,” Ninety Doyle said. “If it’s just muscle work you need . . .” He made a pantomime of tapping a hammer.
“Well, not exactly muscle work, but it does take time to pound even the softest gold into a malleable foil.” Then Eric perked up. “Old Natchi, what a talker. I understand about three words out of a dozen.
I could fit him with a set of dentures that would do him better service than what he has left in his mouth.”
“Most of the time in the drinking places, when people get their teeth knocked out, it’s after market hours,” Ferris said. “For emergency treatment, do I give them this berth number?”
Zainal did not like that idea, for he wished to be as private as possible on BASS1, but he countered with a suggestion. “You can present yourself, and your qualifications, to the local medical men. Then, if they think your services are necessary, they can make an appointment for the patient to see you. Preferably at the market. As soon as we can, I will try to find a better place in which you can work, Eric.”
“That would save us from being a rareeshow, certainly,” Eric said, accepting Zainal’s offer.
“Does Floss have to go back?” Clime asked plaintively. The pair of them were holding hands under the table.
“I don’t mind, dear,” she said, soothing him with a hand on his much bigger one. “At least they can’t pinch me when I have the coffee bar in front of me.”
“Do not take any overt action, Clune,” Zainal felt obliged to warn him.
Chine snorted. “I’m not crazy, Zainal. Ev
ery one of them there today outweighed me, and a lot would have had the reach on me. Stupid I ain’t. Taking on one of those guys would put me out of action. I gotta stay on duty, pet.”
“You could lick ‘em onehanded,” Ditsy said with misplaced loyalty. “You got skill! And Chief Materu taught you some dandy
moves.
“There will be no competitions with Catteni brawlers,” Zainal said, eyeing Clune, who nodded willingly enough, and Ditsy, who finally settled as far back in his seat as he could, as if trying to make himself less visible.
“I know it was a wearing day,” Kris said, “but we have to pack more coffee beans for tomorrow. Having them on hand is very useful.” She nodded toward Kathy Harvey, who had put forth the suggestion. Everyone groaned but even Ferris and Zainal’s sons roused themselves from the table to attend to the chore, packing the beans in bags they had taken from a deserted Terran Starbucks cafe.
“We’re running out of the sacks we brought with us,” Ferris remarked. “They ought to pay us for universal advertising rights.” “Can we find anything as useful here as these bags, Zainal?” “Quite possibly. You boys, see what you can find tomorrow morning once we’ve set up the stalls. And look around for something that will suit Eric’s requirements. Usually private stalls are at the head of the blocks.”
“You mean we can prowl?”
“Just keep order, Dits,” Zainal said.
“We can look, too, Father,” Peran volunteered eagerly.
“Perhaps, after your lessons with Brone, you may take a walk.” He nodded at Brone, who accepted the suggestion with a nod.
Zainal was loath to let his sons loose since, as Catteni boys, they would come under the scrutiny of all male adults, but with Brone in attendance, he could be sure that their natural high spirits would not lead them into trouble.
“We will think Masai and ask ourselves if the chief would permit his band to do whatever it is we think of doing.”
“Chief Materu was very strict but fair,” Bazil said helpfully, “but by the Gods, he could scowl something fierce and that always meant extra duty.” He wrinkled his nose in dismayed remembrance of such disciplinary frowns. “A question, Father?” he added, raising a tentative index finger. When Zainal nodded, he went on. “In most African tribal lands, if things get stolen, they get stolen back right fast. I mean, we all know the market’s full of things stolen from Earth. Couldn’t we just steal them back without all this bartering?”
Zainal cleared his throat. In some of the very primitive societies he had seen as a scout, the stealthy reclamation of stolen goods was considered part of training. The idea being to get in, get the pur loined things, and return unseen. The Turs had made that into an art, and many had died following that tradition elsewhere.
“We abide by the laws of the planet we’re on, Bazil. And, however tempting, theft is brutally punished on this planet, and Kapash would relish a chance to apply the full measure of the law against any one of us.”
“Oh!” Ditsy and Ferris echoed Bazil’s stunned response faintly. “But if they didn’t know it was us?” Bazil persisted, jabbing his thumb in his chest.
“Who else would they suspect, Bazil?” Chuck asked, frowning darkly as he leant weight to Zainal’s comment.
“However, you may wander but just within the market area,” Zainal replied. “And check in hourly with me or Kris,” he added, pointing to their comm units.
“I got offered gold coin for mine,” Bazil replied.
“Accept nothing less than forty,” was Ferris’s fast response until he noticed Zainal’s frown.
“Do not suggest they are for sale,” he said firmly.
“I saw where we can get more,” Ditsy said, hauling a scrap of paper out of his pocket. Zainal leaned forward eagerly. “Iridium hand units, Stall SeventytwoK. At least I think it’s a K.” Ditsy passed Zainal the scrap, a dirty finger pointing to the logo.
“Right. Good for you, Dits,” Zainal said. “I wonder if Kapash will tell me who rents the stall.”
“If he doesn’t, Natchi will,” Ferris said. “He knows everything there is to know about the market.”
At that, Kathy wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know about the male facilities, but the ones for us are deplorable. Really, what does stall rental go for if not cleaning up the toilets?”
“Repairing the damage the drunks do,” Ferris replied with contempt.
Zainal gave Kathy a little nod. Such negligence could be a useful talking point in his next discussion with the market manager. But then, Kapash might have little interest in amenities for women. Zainal was certain Kapash held the traditional Catteni views on women: they should be grateful for what they get.
“I volunteer to do some cleaning there tomorrow,” Floss offered. “I can’t stand the stench, and who knows what I’d pick up from it.” Zainal wasn’t sure why Kris looked so pleased by Floss’s offer, but she clearly approved of the girl’s willingness.
“Let’s fill those sacks”
“Tote dat barge, lift dat bale,” Clune sang in a deep, rich bass that startled everyone.
“Git a little drunk and you lands in,” Ferris sang in a cracked tenor voice and pointed to Clune to finish the song.
“Jay ... ill . . .” was his response, dropping into the deepest part of his lush voice. A burst of applause ensued, which he hushed with his hand. “OF Man River, he just keeps rollin’ along.” He finished the impromptu recital with a flourish and a bow and was accorded an
other round of applause before he waved his friends to continue with their chore of packing beans.
Zainal did not know much of singing, but the work did go more swiftly as others asked Clune to sing their favorite songs. By the time Kris called a halt, they had worked their way through twentyfive pounds of darkroasted robusta beans, and the same of the milder, washed arabicas, sufficient to meet unexpectedly high sales the next day. Sally finished adding up their income from the day’s work and Eric reported on how many appointments he had made for dental work. He had insisted on being paid half of the cost of the work in advance a fact that kept them solvent for local purchasesand half on completion. The dentistry was going to be a profitable asset of this tour. Zainal went through what he had done with the day’s income and what he needed to do with tomorrow’s.
“Then, we can take some profit,” he figured.
“With any luck,” Kris amended, and then covered her lips in apology for the negative comment. “However, I get the feeling that they are all holding back.”
“I do, too,” Kathy said.
“As if they were testing us, somehow? Or perhaps simply not willing to trade?” Chuck asked.
“But from what Natchi and that footless friend of his, Erbri, said, they have had no buyers for what’s in their storage rooms, so why are they not willing to come forward and make what profit they can from us who are willing to buy?” Zainal remarked. “In fact, Natchi’s bringing in two more mechanics besides Erbri to help fix the lifts and other reparable things left to rust. We’ve a good business going in repair and mechanics as a side venture.”
“Could Kapash be inhibiting the merchants for all he pretends to help?” Kris asked.
“He’s not been helping,” Zainal said. “He’s determined to thwart us. Be wary of him, all of you.”
“Why does he have it in for you, Zainal?” Chuck asked, expression bland.
“I knew him when he dealt in illegal drugs, and he knows I know it.”
“So he’s the one made sure you were on that colony transport?” Kris asked.
Zainal let out a long breath. “I don’t know that but I have been asking some discreet questions through Natchi, Erbri, and their coterie. Remember to give any disabled vet at least one cup of coffee, team.” Everyone nodded.
“What better way to get rid of a possible informer than to put him where he might die from indigenous causes or, with any luck, be executed by angry slaves?” Kris remarked irritably.
Chine spoke up with gre
at dignity. “Chief Materu said that you make your own luck.”
“Chief Materu is a great leader,” Zainal said. “Then let us make our own luck!”
“Right!” Chuck seconded firmly, and there was agreement in the circle of tired bean packers before they rose stiffly to their feet and scattered to their onship quarters.
“Is this truly a good beginning?” Kris murmured to Zainal when they were abed.
“You can’t exactly say they beat a path to our door,” he replied, smoothing her hair down, once again reveling in the silk of it, before he cuddled her close to him.
“Where’d you get that expression?”
“Ferris, of course,” Zainal said, giving her a little hug.
He closed his eyes to get on with the business of falling asleep.
It was a long while, despite her appreciation of his proximity, before she could follow his example. And the morning came far too quickly.
veryone was awake on the call and came out quickly to eat their first meal of the day. Then Peran went to see if Natchi had arrived with his lift as he had agreed the previous evening. Peran had sneaked a piece of good Botany bread, well lathered with honey, to give to Natchi. They had struck up quite a friendship. Natchi was there and grateful for the bread, which he said he had never tasted the like of. Peran had accessed a recipe for the stuff from the ship’s library but didn’t know where some of the ingredients might be had. He didn’t know what “butter” was, or “flour” or “yeast.”
However, Natchi knew a great many things and would work on the problem. At least they had the method to make bread and knew its ingredients. You couldn’t know if you could make things until you knew what they were comprised of. Which was why Peran’s father was here on Barevito find the component parts needed for the comm satellites and other such highly technical things, which were supposed to make a vast number of things “better.” Peran already thought “life” was different and “better” when he recalledwhich he did not often dothat time of his life spent without his father and being punished by his aunt and uncle for things that, for the most part, Peran didn’t even know he’d done wrong. He’d warned Bazil and thus prevented his brother from receiving like measures of “corrective” discipline. Now that his father was here, it was always “better.” He would have liked being with his father sooner, but life in the Masai camp had been very interesting, too, and Chief Materu fair in his judgments. He never had understood what his father, who acted in all ways honorably, had done to deserve being an outcast from his family.