Freedom's Challenge

by Anne McCaffrey

They flew on, low enough over the neatly cultivated fields to show Kamiton a few Farmer mechs at work, spraying in one case, harvesting in another. Again that sharp Catteni nod to indicate Kamiton had noticed.

  Almost at a glide—conserving fuel had become second nature to all the pilots—Zainal took the KDL across the narrow sea and up to the landing field.

  “God in heaven, what’s happened?” Gino cried.

  Zainal snapped on the intercom. “Scott? Beverly? Someone. Landing instructions.”

  “Five, I count five,” Kris said, her voice rising in a squeak. “We’ve been invaded?”

  “Welcome back, Zainal,” and Scott’s voice was far too vibrantly triumphant for the extra three ships to be menaces.

  Suddenly Zainal began to swear in Catteni, only a little of which Kris understood but it had to do with boiling and eating and other usually fatal applications. Kamiton was roaring his head off, laughing and whooping in such uncharacteristically Catteni behavior that Kris and Gino were both grinning, too. Kris couldn’t quite understand his angry reaction: after all, he was the one who proposed the acquisition of Catteni spaceships.

  Zainal was definitely not amused and continued to growl out his fury all through the landing procedures. As soon as he put the KDL down, to one side of the now crowded field, he jerked his head at Gino to power the ship down. He brushed past Kris who was considering what options she had of cooling him off before he did something that would really put the cat among the pigeons. She slipped in ahead of Kamiton who was nearly staggering with laughter down the companionway to the hatch. Zainal didn’t wait for the landing ramp. He jumped to the ground and started looking about for someone to holler at.

  The other ships could not have been there very long, because two were still unloading groggy passengers or cargo or both. The passengers were enough of a surprise all on their own because Kris recognized the unmistakable lanky figures of black Maasai, with their long hair and distinctive garb. She missed the customary spears and shields that she’d seen them carry in the documentaries and news reports during the African famine.

  Cargo was being unloaded, boxes and crates and larger items that required the use of a quickly constructed hoist told her that the mission, however increased, had been very successful.

  “AH! SCOTT!” And Zainal had seen his victim and turned in that direction.

  Halfway up the field, Ray Scott acknowledged that shout with a wave and the most cheerful expression Kris had ever seen on the ex-admiral’s face. She groaned at the thought of that dissipating when Zainal confronted him. Standing in the now fully open cargo hatch of the KDL, she began to semaphore her arms, trying to catch Ray’s attention. Just warning him might help.

  There was nothing wrong with the ex-admiral’s eyesight, and he caught her frenzied signal. His smile began to fade as Zainal closed the distance between them. Even Zainal’s back looked angry, Kris thought. He was in a towering rage and even Kris could understand why other species were afraid of Catteni. What she couldn’t understand was why he’d be so angry at what seemed to be a very successful undertaking.

  He was confronting Scott, waving arms and fists about, pointing from one of the newly captured ships to the other. Two were as big as the H-class, which had kidnapped her from Denver ages ago. The other was another new K-class. One way or another, Botany was assembling a substantial space fleet. So why was Zainal so put out?

  Kamiton had disembarked the KDL, Chuck Mitford and Gino Marrucci acting as guides as well as sponsors. Mack was following at a more leisurely pace, taking in all the activity and the new arrivals, Human as well as material. The busy stevedores didn’t even give Kamiton a second look. Kris ran to catch up with Zainal and caught the last of Zainal’s diatribe, so well interspersed with more Catteni curses and allegations, that Ray looked so stunned Kris could almost feel sorry for him.

  Abruptly Ray Scott began to chuckle. “You taught us how, Zainal. Don’t bitch at me when we had a chance to improve on your tactics and save a lot of people the Eosi want badly.”

  “One ship at a time would not be missed,” Zainal began again, his voice harsh, his manner so belligerent he looked more Drassi than Emassi.

  “These all went unnoticed, too, Zainal,” Ray said, calmly, suavely defusing the unexpected anger Zainal displayed. “And who is this you have brought?”

  If there was an edge that approximated disapproval in Ray’s voice, Kris could hardly blame him as he now caught the approach of Kamiton and his guides.

  But evidently Zainal had spent most of his anger. With a definite effort, he contained himself, taking a deep breath. Looking over his shoulder, he saw how close Kamiton and the others were. He also turned his head just far enough to take in the anxious expression on Kris’ face. Suddenly, the gray of his skin lightened and, with a massive shake to his whole body, he relaxed, gesturing for Kamiton to approach.

  “Admiral Ray Scott, this is Emassi Kamiton, a friend for many years and one as committed to removing the Eosi domination as I am.” Zainal let the two men shake hands—he’d mentioned that custom to Kamiton since Catteni rarely touched in cordiality—and Ray did not wince at the grip Kamiton produced.

  “You are welcome, Emassi,” Scott said in Catteni, with a slight grin when he noticed Kamiton’s surprise. “Most of us can speak a little Catten…these days. Come, join us, you, too, Kris, Chuck, Gino. We can debrief in turns.” He added the last in English. “Report, I meant to say,” he put in, remembering the Catteni words.

  Kamiton was looking around with great interest, especially at some of the unusual people who were being helped out of one big H-class.

  “We’ve almost doubled our population again,” Ray said, gesturing for them all to go up to the hangar and his office. “Later, Emassi Kamiton, it will be my pleasure to introduce you to the leaders of our colony.”

  As they entered the hanger, Kris saw Baby already ensconced, her hatch wide open. How had they managed to get pilots enough for three more ships? The KDM had had Laughrey as a second pilot and Boris with Raisha on Baby, and Ricky Farmer, maybe that’s how they did it. She shook her head. But none of them, except Laughrey who’d captained Concordes, would have any experience with such big vessels, which would also require a minimum crew.

  “Kris…” and obviously Ray Scott was calling for her attention a second time, “there’s coffee over there,” he said with a broad grin. “And even some reasonably fresh milk.”

  “WHAT?”

  That shook her out of her introspection.

  “COFFEE?”

  Gino and Chuck reached the serving table almost as soon as she did. Chuck inhaled the aroma, eyes closed in ecstasy.

  “I’ll take a fresh cup, Kris,” Scott said as he gestured the two Catteni to the chairs around the long table.

  “Maybe a cup of coffee’ll help settle Zainal, too,” Chuck murmured to her as she poured for them all. His eyes were twinkling but his expression was sober. “I don’t ever want him to get that mad at me, and I’ve been chewed out by experts.”

  “You?” Gino said, trying to ease the tension he felt in the atmosphere.

  “Sugar as well, Ray?” Kris called out, noticing the large package of it open on the table.

  “Two,” Scott answered and she wondered just how much sugar had been acquired.

  Without even an apologetic look on his face, Chuck used three spoonfuls but no milk. Kris was still deliberating what to add to the two cups destined for the Catteni when Chuck splashed in both sugar and milk, stirring vigorously.

  “They can always try it pure later,” he said. “This is real army coffee.”

  He took three cups as deftly as Kris did while Gino, eyes glinting with amusement, carried his and Scott’s over to the table.

  “See if you like it, Zainal,” Chuck said at his most affable in trying to placate Zainal’s still visible anger. He spoke in Catteni but when he went on, he had to use the English words where there were no equivalents even in Barevi. “Army can’t move without c
offee, nor the navy.”

  “It is a pleasure for us all,” Scott said, also in Catteni. Then he blew on the surface of his coffee before sipping judiciously. As the other Humans were following that example, so did Zainal and Kamiton. Then Scott dropped into English. “First thing Sandy Areson off-loaded was a huge pot of brew and doled it out. I got that pitcher and two refills. I think she’ll be brewing for the rest of the day, we’re all so eager for the taste of it. Boxes of tea as well, so Ainger’s happy.”

  “How much coffee did she bring in?” Chuck asked hopefully.

  “Sacks full, though not all may be as fresh as this,” Ray said before he switched to Catten. “I don’t think the Catteni,” and he nodded graciously at Kamiton, “realized…” and he made gestures of grinding with his two hands, “that the beans have to be ground to be useful.”

  “Sort of like potatoes when Sir Walter gave them to Queen Elizabeth,” Kris said, slipping in the remark to allow Zainal more time to regain his usual dignity.

  “Now, let me explain to you, Zainal, Kamiton, about the three ships,” Ray said, sitting forward but keeping both hands on his coffee cup.

  “I listen,” Zainal said in a firm voice and sipped again at his coffee. Kamiton did, too, rolling the liquid in his mouth and savoring it.

  “Neither of the two ships we sent on this reconnaissance of Earth had any trouble with their ID’s or traveling. As you said, Zainal, Catteni ships are moving about without any restrictions at all. All right, all right, that might change because of what happened next,” Ray intercepted Zainal’s objections. “But considering how easy it all was to take over three more, I doubt they will be missed.”

  “They will not be missed,” Kamiton said, having followed Ray’s somewhat basic Catteni even with the ex-admiral’s atrocious accent. He grinned broadly. “Everyone is too busy taking valuables and loading cargo drones. Those who are assigned to the Eosi do not have the same freedom, but those, as you know, Zainal, are the chosen few!” Kamiton’s smile was a mixture of contempt and condescension.

  “Matt Su and Vic Yowell managed to find an unused channel on the communications band and kept in contact with our scout ship.” Then Ray rubbed his forehead and, with an apologetic nod at Kamiton, asked Zainal to translate to Kamiton while he resorted to English. “That proved extremely useful because once Raisha and Boris saw what had been done to St. Petersburg, they were so shattered it took hours for Bull Fetterman and Lenny to talk them back into action.” Ray paused briefly. “I’ll say this for them, once they got over their initial shock, they really showed the stuff they’re made of. By then, the KDM had realized how easy it was to get in and out of any major Catteni landing field and were reconnoitering.” He sighed heavily. “Not much is left of the major world capitol cities, except the ones that don’t look big enough to be important. After the KDM dropped off Basil Whitby and Leila in England, they let Sandy off in what had been the Boston-Cambridge area, and Joe Latore in upper New Jersey. Then the KDM proceeded, as planned, to Houston and the big Catteni/Eosi installation there.

  “That’s when they had the chance to take over the two H-class ships. The H’s had just been loaded with more folks and were headed to one of the mining planets. Matt Su pretended to be in command and reassigned Bert Put and John Beverly as the new Drassi officers in charge of the newly acquired HTS. It was loaded but had only two crewmen on board so they were easily fooled into believing a change in command…”

  Zainal actually grinned. “Perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea, after all.”

  “No, because John Beverly knew where some air force personnel might have gone into hiding. And they were. So that didn’t leave just two fake Catteni to manage that big mother. They aren’t that difficult to operate but some crew had to be used. Beverly got to the hideout—but he had a bit of a problem, dressed as a Catteni until he wiped off part of the makeup and recognized one or two officers he knew. After that, they had enough to crew half a dozen more ships.” Ray chuckled at the startled look on Zainal’s face. Kamiton grinned, shaking his head at the audacity.

  “We also now have NASA ground crew personnel who’ll know how to service the ships,” and Ray was obviously relieved about that aspect. “Beverly brought Laughrey and two more experienced Hercules pilots back with him to the Houston facility in the H’s shuttle and enough men to crew a second H-ship.” Ray paused, noticed that his cup was empty. Chuck rose, took it, and went to fill both. “That’s when we got the African contingent. Even the Hutus and Tutsies resented Catteni interference with their little war and joined forces against the Gray Men. We’ve Maasai, Luo, and Kikuyo and evidently a smattering of Tuareg and Zulu. The Catteni took savage reprisals all across Africa.”

  “So I also heard,” Kamiton put in.

  Over at the coffee table, Chuck murmured to Kris: “He’s laughed once. Relax.” As he poured coffee from the large bottle, he inhaled the aroma with a look of pure pleasure on his face that Kris had recently seen, but in much different circumstances. Fortunately he didn’t see her blushing.

  “And the K-class? Three spaceships disappearing from the same area would arouse suspicion,” Zainal said bluntly.

  “No, the K was Joe Latore’s contribution to our growing navy,” Ray said. “He found a lot of people hiding out in the forests in New Jersey, and they told him about all the ships they’d seen coming and going from what’s left of New York City. He organized a bunch to go have a look. Had enough volunteers to make an army but kept it to a sensible force. Lots of people have rifles and small arms, you see. Have to hunt to live. They got to the city via the Lincoln Tunnel.”

  “The tunnel?” Chuck asked, exchanging surprised looks with Kris and Gino.

  “Well, all the bridges were gone, and the Holland, but debris from the old Port Authority hid the entrance to the Lincoln and evidently the Catteni hadn’t noticed the New Jersey entry. Can’t get vehicles through the ones already stuck there. Some folks are using them to camp out in: those who got stuck there when the Catteni hit the city. Joe said they nearly caused a landslide getting through the debris on Fortieth Street and that didn’t make them popular with the refugees. But…” and Scott shrugged off that complaint. “According to the tunnel people, Central Park was a prime landing and loading area. So Joe and his group started up Eleventh Avenue toward the park. When Joe saw the K-class parked on top of the Cunard building at Fifty-fourth Street, he decided to take a closer look. It was fully loaded and the crew drunk out of its tiny minds on champagne.” Ray grinned. “By the way, Catteni do not know how to swim.”

  When Zainal translated that, Kamiton gave another of his bursts of laughter. Even Zainal had a grin on his face.

  “So no one’s going to miss that K right away. It was only a matter of getting in touch with the KDL. General Beverly sent his shuttle with a couple of air force Hercules pilots and enough crew to handle her. Joe brought as many folks back as possible and promised to lift more when he could.” Scott sighed.

  Not, Kris thought, that he didn’t blame Joe for promising, but because it might be difficult to honor it.

  “Were proper precautions taken to avoid the thirty-hour satellite?” Zainal asked in English.

  “Hid behind the moons until they got the olley-olley-in-free,” Ray Scott said with a boyish grin in keeping with the hide-and-seek password.

  “The what?” Zainal glanced at Kris for explanation. She was relieved to see that his eyes were back to a normal shade of yellow and that the tension in his face muscles had dispersed.

  “A children’s game word. Quite appropriate.”

  “But how did the new vessels pass the Bubble?” Zainal asked, frowning.

  Ray gave a flick of one hand to indicate the ease of that operation. “Baby brought one H-class in, using the same trick you did, Zainal, with a magnetic linkage. Then the KDL piggybacked the other two the same way when the coast looked clear of surveillance.”

  Zainal blinked. “Piggybacked? More children’s games?” he asked, with a w
eary but tolerant sigh.

  “As far as we know, before they got through the Bubble,” Ray went on, filled cup raised in both hands, “no alarms were heard on any of the Catteni channels. If they haven’t missed the ships in nearly three weeks, will they ever?” Then he took a long drink of coffee.

  Zainal repeated that in Catteni to Kamiton, then stood up with his empty cup in his hand, and silently held out the other for Kamiton’s.

  “It is refreshing to drink,” Kamiton said, handing the cup over but he followed Zainal’s progress to the service table to refill their cups while answering Ray in Catteni.

  “I doubt even the Eosi know how many ships they have in the fleet. The shipyards keep building them,” and Kamiton shrugged his heavy shoulders diffidently. “The ships not to touch are those used only by the Eosi. They are distinctively marked and no one enters who does not have to.”

  “I can easily understand that,” Ray said with a grin. Then, as Zainal returned with the refilled cups, he leaned across the table toward them. “But would not they be the very ships we’d need to hijack if you,” and he pointed at both Zainal and Kamiton, “want to be rid of Eosian domination?”

  Chuck grinned, though Gino, for a moment, looked apprehensive.

  “There are at least one hundred Eosi,” Kamiton said. “That is one hundred ships to destroy and you have…how many now? Six?”

  “It’s a start,” Ray said, grinning slightly. “Are you also with us in our fight against Eosian domination?” When Kamiton nodded slowly, he added, “Are there any more at home like you?”

  “There are,” Kamiton said firmly and soberly. Now he leaned forward across the table. “We must plan. It will not be easy.”

  “What is worth having never is,” Ray Scott said. “Now, it’s your turn, Zainal,” and he continued in Catteni, “tikso.”

  • • •

  ZAINAL “REPORTED” IN THE SAME LANGUAGE, although occasionally Ray had to ask for a translation. He chuckled over the asteroid belt deception.

  “Well done, well done,” Ray said, rubbing his hands together.