Freedom's Challenge

by Anne McCaffrey

  “Night vision,” Zainal said promptly. “Our hearing is more acute but not as good as the Deski. We can last longer eating poor food…or is that body difference, not brain?”

  “Metabolic differences certainly,” Dorothy said, having written “eye” and “ear” on her pad. Kris could read such short words backwards. Then the psychologist spent a moment doodling. “Could you possibly draw me a sketch of the device used on you?” She turned to Kris in explanation. “Those that got a good look at it can’t talk, and those who can talk didn’t see it.”

  “Zainal’s very good at drawing devices,” Kris said, with a touch of pride.

  “Yes,” and Zainal complied, using the pen with the quick, deft strokes that Kris had seen him use in delineating the mechanicals. “There!”

  Dorothy regarded the neat sketch and hmmmed under her breath. “Hmmm, yes, well it looks like something an evil scientist would create.” She sighed. “Considering who the Eosi chose to brain-scan, they seem to have been on an information hunt. But why? Their level of technology is so much more sophisticated than ours. Or were they just trying to strip minds that could possibly help foment riot and rebellion? Or maybe reduce humans to the level of your Rassi?”

  Zainal made a guttural noise and his smile, while it did not touch his eyes, was evil. “Ray Scott said that he recognized some of the people as scientists. So the Eosi are looking for information. If they were wiping minds to make you like Drassi, they would start with children and block learning.” He grinned. “The Eosi look for ideas. They have had very few new ones over the past hundred or so years.”

  “Really?” Dorothy remarked encouragingly.

  “Maybe they need to stimulate their own brains,” Kris said. “Or would it work on them?”

  Zainal shrugged.

  “Will Seissmann and Dr. Ansible felt that the Eosi were taking a vicious revenge on humans by destroying minds in a wholesale fashion,” Dorothy said in an expressionless voice. “There seemed to be no reason to include some of the individuals—TV reporters and anchor men…and women…”

  “Really? Who?” Kris asked in astonishment.

  “Who? Anchor men and women?” Zainal didn’t understand the term.

  “Oh,” he said, when Kris explained, and added, “information would be the first thing Eosi want to control. All your satellites and communication networks were destroyed in the initial phase of the invasion.”

  “Did you know they were choosing Earth?” Dorothy asked.

  Zainal shook his head with a rueful grin. “I am exploring on the far side of this galaxy. I had stopped at Barevi for supplies and fuel when…” And then he shrugged as if both women knew his history from then on.

  “Zainal picked a fight,” Kris said, answering the querying look on Dorothy’s mobile face, “killed a Drassi and went on the lam. I saw his flitter crash and went to see whom the Catteni were after this time. I had no idea what I was rescuing. If I had,” and she gave Zainal a mock dirty look, “I might have thrown him to the wolves. Then I decided I’d better get him back to Barevi. Only we both got caught in one of those gassings the Catteni spray to quell rebellion.” Kris knew that Dorothy would be familiar with that tactic which was often used on Earth. “And ended up here on Botany.”

  “For which many of us are exceedingly grateful,” Dorothy said sincerely. “Will, Dr. Ansible, and a former TV reporter, Jane O’Hanlon, were able to bring us up to date with the situation on Earth, by the way. Which I can give you without benefit of sponsors or commercials,” Dorothy said in a droll tone of voice. “I think there was probably more than one reason for the Eosi to resort to extracting information from human beings. Not only have we here on Botany produced a new wrench in the works with the Bubble but resistance is increasing on Earth despite their attempts to control or contain it.

  “I gather that there will be an effort made to support activities on Earth now that there’re three spaceships at our disposal?” And she looked at Zainal for comment.

  “We haven’t heard of any,” Kris said and added “yet.” Zainal had been so busy getting pictorial proof to send the Farmers that they hadn’t discussed any future plans.

  He shrugged. “Three ships are too few against as many as the Eosi have.”

  “Not even for a teensy-weensy hit,” and Dorothy left a very tiny space between her forefinger and thumb by way of illustration, “just to serve notice on the Eosi?”

  “I think we’ve just done that,” Kris said with a droll grin.

  “They will try to penetrate the Bubble,” Zainal said. “They will have to figure out what it is and how it is maintained. That will annoy them seriously.” And he was patently delighted. “We must hope that it remains. The Eosi have other weapons that destroy planets.”

  “Do they?” And Kris felt a twinge of fear under her bravado.

  “If they cannot possess, they do not leave it for others to have.”

  “Oh!” Kris had no flippant reply for that.

  “Does the Council know?” Dorothy asked, concerned.

  “I will tell them,” Zainal said, nodding solemnly.

  “Well, then, that’s all I can bother you with,” Dorothy said, beginning to gather up her notes. Then she paused, tilting her head at Zainal. “You don’t have any idea where the Eosi came from, do you?” When Zainal shook his head, she managed a self-conscious laugh. “From a galaxy far, far away?”

  Kris chuckled, delighted that Dorothy was not only Trek oriented, but could also quote from Star Wars.

  “Thank you, Zainal. You’ve given me valuable information.”

  “I have?”

  Dorothy smiled. “More than you might think. I do apologize for besieging you after what has been a very difficult day but we needed this input.” She held up the notes. “We can design appropriate treatment now. In so far as our resources permit, that is.”

  Zainal opened the door, and they stepped into a moonlit night.

  “Over here, Dorothy,” Chuck said, flipping on the runabout’s light.

  “Oh, thank you, and thank you again, Zainal, Kris.” She hurried over to the little vehicle, murmuring her thanks to Mitford before she turned it northward.

  “I’ve one of the flatbeds and there’s room on the boxes for you two to ride back to your place,” Chuck said. “Don’t want any night crawlers grabbing you.”

  “Thanks, Chuck,” Kris said, only too grateful for both the offer and the sentiment. She was really dragging with weariness right now. Sitting down for a spell had not been as good an idea as it had seemed. It only emphasized her fatigue.

  “Over here,” and Chuck reached the flatbed and turned on its light to guide them.

  Kris was already climbing on the cargo before she realized that the boxes didn’t resemble anything she had purchased on Barevi.

  “What’s all this, sarge?” She couldn’t see the printed labels in the dim light.

  “It’s the books we found,” Zainal astonished her by saying.

  “Books?”

  “Yes, books,” Zainal repeated calmly. “Ray saw them. As trading captain of the KDI, I thought such paper stuff would be good for packing material.” He grinned. “The Drassi did not argue, glad to be rid of the stuff.”

  “But there must be fifty boxes here? They’re not all the same book, are they?”

  “Nope,” Chuck said. “Catteni looted libraries, too. We’ve got some former librarians just drooling to catalog what we managed to ‘liberate.’ This is only part of what we unloaded. Our kids won’t grow up ignorant, though they might have some rather interesting gaps in their education.”

  “Books,” Kris said and suddenly realized that she had missed books…certainly the availability of books. “Wow! That was a real coup.”

  “Books?” Zainal asked. “Schoolbooks?” His tone was sly though Kris could not see his expression in the dim light. “Bi-ol-o-gy?”

  “Don’t know yet,” Chuck said, “though that’s a possibility. Why?”

  “Zainal ha
s just acquired a need to know,” Kris replied drolly. Oh, well, she’d had good grades in biology, though just how much human biology would expand Zainal’s understanding of how his body worked was a moot point. And she was too tired to inquire.

  All three were silent for the rest of the journey.

  Once Zainal closed the door behind them, Kris gave up the notion of a shower as being too much work and a ruse to keep her from getting horizontal, and asleep, as soon as she could make it to the bed. She did take her boots off, as Zainal was doing, but that was all she managed.

  • • •

  THE K-CLASS SHIP, WHICH ARRIVED AT BAY forty-five to collect a shipment of slaves for an ice planet’s mining operation, was furious to discover that someone else had taken them. The Drassi lodged a protest about that, and then another one that he had been forced to wait eight days before sufficient slaves could be assembled. So insignificant a report went unread.

  The costs submitted against a ship with a KDI identification code were duly registered although it was later noted that this ship had supposedly been listed as “lost.” The charges were paid and the anomaly forgotten.

  Chapter Two

  IT SHOULDN’T HAVE SURPRISED KRIS THAT by the next afternoon many people were aware of the substance of their discussion with Dorothy Dwardie. Rumor circulated the settlement as fast as a Farmer orbiter. Fortunately, it worked more in favor of Zainal than against him. The Catteni were, however briefly, also seen as Victims of Eosian tactics, more to be pitied than feared.

  A quintet of anthropologists, while loudly deploring the forced evolution of the Catteni, requested most politely for Zainal to take some tests to evaluate his “stimulated” intelligence. Kris was furious and Zainal amused. In fact, Kris was so incensed that she was even mad at him for agreeing.

  “They cannot do me any harm,” Zainal said in his attempt to placate her.

  “It’s the whole idea of the thing…as if you were no better than a laboratory mouse or rat or monkey,” she said, pacing about the house while her mate and her son regarded her with surprise.

  “They are also testing the Deski and the Rugarians.” He grinned at her. “I would like to know how I rate.”

  “How can they possibly evaluate you fairly? In the first place,” she said, waving her arms about as she paced, “lots of the questions require a similar cultural background…and history and things you’ve never had a chance to study.”

  “So?” Zainal reached out and stopped her mid-stride as she was going past him. “You are annoyed for me? Or with me?” he asked at his gentlest, a gleam in his yellow eyes.

  “With them! The nerve, the consummate gall,” and she tried to struggle out of his embrace.

  “Sometimes, Kristin Bjornsen, you protect me when I do not need it,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “As you would Zane.”

  “Nonsense,” Kris snapped, trying to push him away. “You don’t know when to be insulted. I am insulted. For you.”

  Zainal laughed and easily resisted her attempts to break free.

  “It is difficult to insult an Emassi,” he said. “I think it is better for them to find out that I am very, very smart. It will solve other problems.”

  That mild remark stopped her struggling.

  “What problems?” she demanded, suspicious.

  “The ones I must solve.”

  “Which are?”

  “How to free us…” and he gestured himself and then to her, “and your people from the Eosi.”

  “But we need the Farmers’ help for that and we have no idea when we’ll have a response—if any—to that report you sent them. What are you planning, Zainal?”

  “This time you, too, must wait and see,” he said, giving her a final squeeze before he released her. And she got no more out of him.

  He went off to the session with the anthropologists while she fumed and fretted as she did the household chores. She was not due for her shift until late afternoon. She couldn’t even find satisfaction in taking care of Zane, which she usually enjoyed thoroughly. She all but pounced on Zainal when he returned a few hours later.

  “Well?” she demanded as soon as he entered the cabin.

  His grin was a partial reassurance but she insisted on details. “They say I am very smart. At the top.”

  “How could they figure that out? What did they ask? How did you reply?”

  “Carefully,” he said, pouring himself a cup of water. “Thirsty work.”

  Kris let out an explosive “oh” of total frustration. “You’d drive a saint to drink.”

  “Saint? More of that God stuff?”

  “What sort of questions?” She would not be diverted.

  “Logic ones which I am well able to answer. Sorrell told me that they used some of the Mensa tests? That you would know what those are?”

  Kris nodded, obliquely reassured. “And?”

  “I passed,” he said and then bent to lift the lid on the pot over the fire. “We eat here tonight?”

  “Yes, it’s the stew you like. How high did you pass?”

  Zainal’s grin was malicious. “Very high. They were surprised and…” he paused to let his grin broaden, “they were respectful.”

  “Well, it’s about time.”

  He turned and put his arms about her, drawing her close to him so that he could look her in the eyes. “One earns respect. It is not just given.”

  “But you’ve earned it twenty times over, Zainal,” she said, not quite willing to be totally placated by his proximity but letting her arms creep around his neck. “When I think of how lucky we were that you got dropped…”

  “I was very lucky,” he said, burrowing his head in her hair. “Very lucky.”

  They remained in that embrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of touching and being together until Zane, waking from his afternoon nap, disturbed their communion.

  “So, what have you been planning in that devious stimulated Catteni mind of yours?” Kris asked.

  “I think we have to go to Earth,” he said so casually that she nearly dropped her son.

  “Just like that? Go to Earth? How? Why? Can you? Will they agree?”

  “It is safer right now than it will be…” he began, taking Zane from her to dandle on his knee, which had the boy chortling with delight, while she tasted the stew.

  “Oh?” The stew needed a pinch more salt, which she added.

  “Yes, because it will take time for the Eosi to discover that the Victims did not get to the intended destination. They will also be thinking of a way to break through the Bubble. They do not like such defenses.”

  “So? What good would a trip to Earth do?”

  “Now I think there may be other Catteni, who have had enough Eosi,” and he grinned at her. “I am not the only one who thinks for himself. Who is smarter than the Eosi want us to be. I know of five who are like me. I need to know where they now are. I need to know if there are more now.”

  “Five? Against how many Eosi?”

  Zainal considered as he tickled Zane’s toes while the little boy giggled, withdrawing his feet and then presenting them again.

  “I think there are no more than one hundred.”

  “Because that’s all the Catteni they upgraded? Don’t they reproduce or something?”

  Zainal shook his head. “Not that we know of.”

  “We?”

  “The others of like mind I told you about. We have met, in small groups, from time to time, to exchange knowledge.”

  “You mean, you’ve been plotting against the Eosi for a long time? What would have happened if you had to be subsumed?”

  “A risk all Emassi take,” he said with a shrug. “Yes, I do believe that we have been looking for some way to shake Eosian domination. Your people have shown a resistance no other species has. That’s good.”

  “As far as it goes and look what happens to Humans who resist…” and Kris’ gesture included the planet. “How many worlds do the Eosi dominate? I mean, there�
��re the Deski, the Rugarians, the Turs, the Morphins, and the Ilginish…How many others?”

  “The Eosi control fifteen star systems that have at least one intelligent race: another ten where they take metals and materials.”

  Kris laughed. “You honestly believe a rebellion has a chance against such a setup?”

  “If we have the Farmers’ help…”

  “Boy, oh boy, oh boy, are you an optimist!”

  “It is a start. It is more than we have ever had.”

  “With two spaceships and a scout, we can go up against that sort of opposition?”

  “It is a start.”

  “I’ve got to hand it to you, Zainal. God loves a trier,” Kris said, shaking her head at the impossible task he had proposed. And yet…“Have you mentioned any of this to any one else yet?”

  “I talked to Chuck. I will speak to others. We need to go to Earth as soon as possible. Earth needs to know that Botany is!”

  “Let’s eat first, shall we?” Kris said as brightly as she could, trying to assimilate the magnitude of his vision.

  • • •

  DOROTHY DWARDIE’S TEAM SPENT THE FIRST week assessing the condition of the mind-wiped and divided them into various arbitrary groupings, according to the perceived severity.

  As she said in her initial discussion with her aides, there were two levels of healing: one, the physical trauma of assault on the tissue and/or function of the brain, and two, the psychological trauma of assault on the psyche or self. She expected that some trauma would be time-limited.

  “The mind has gone into functional frostbite,” she said, “and when it thaws after the trauma, returns to normal function without help. Since most of these people were trained scientists, it’s possible that many will simply reestablish old neural pathways. There may be some loss of factual memory: maybe even a great deal. Even then much may return over a period of time.