Freedom's Ransom (36 page)

A really enthusiastic cheer greeted that announcement. “And I think we can probably grow our own beans down on the peninsula.” He pointed to the south and west. There was a wilder and happier response to that suggestion. “We've more things to talk about and decisions to make because we need to consolidate our position, both on Earth and on Barevi. So save your questions for tonight. Only don't make up any I can't answer.” Good-natured responses to that followed him as he saw Judge Iri Bempechat arriving late on the landing site and beckoned him to wait around for a little private chat.

Kris had gone to hug her children and talk to Cherry and Rose. Amy had “made strange” with her mother, and Kris was trying to coax a smile from her. Gradually people began to drift to their homes and toward the main buildings of Retreat.

“Yes, Zainal,” Iri said, stumping forward on his cane.

“Your trip was eminently successful, but I perceive from your expression it brought up more questions than it answered.”

“So it did,” Zainal replied, relieved that the judge was so shrewd a man.

“Run them past me.” The judge beckoned for Zainal to accompany him as he stepped into his little motor cart. “Are you going home?”

“No, I must be sure those ceramic caskets are put in safekeeping. Ninety's in charge of them but I want you to see what they contain.”

“Oh?”

“Eosi treasure—most of which I have no difficulty putting to the colony's use, but some of the items should be returned to their original owners.”

“You found Eosi treasure?” The judge was fascinated. “What would they have considered ‘treasure'? And where did you find it?”

“In space, so technically, I think it can be considered the property of whoever finds it.”

“Hmmm . . . yes, traditionally, flotsam and jetsam are usually the property of the finder,” the judge suggested.

“I'm glad that is your opinion, too, but there are some very beautiful jewels and whole casks of what Kris said are old-masters' paintings. Probably looted from museums. Apart from not knowing what to do with them, they are no use to us.”

“Not even as trade items?” Iri asked.

“Coffee beans and metals are good trade commodities. Fancy jewels, which in any case would look silly on a Catteni, are not. The Eosi had a huge appetite for acquisition just for acquisition's sake. I think we can find out which museum owned the paintings. We also found that Earth isn't interested in the nonedible or noncommercial at the moment. There is, however, a considerable treasure in Catteni coin, which I would like to put to use acquiring the rest of the items Botany and Earth need.”

“You are concerned for Earth?”

“Yes, the planet was raped by the Eosi, for the sheer pleasure of acquisition, it would now seem. My plan is to return there as soon as we can resupply BASS-One and restore to them some of the loot we reacquired. I also have a plan, which I must take up with the Terran coordinators, about establishing commerce with them. And bazaars.” Zainal couldn't help but grin. “The Catteni captains took anything that wasn't nailed down, as Ninety phrased it, Earth has gone back to bartering. I think that if we can get them to allow Catteni, or at least the Botany-registered Catteni ships back in their space to land at their trading points, everyone could find what they need and manage to barter viable objects for Catteni consumption. The market is very slow there and it needs new products. Mostly, it needs to dump unusable merchandise. Earth needs what's sitting in warehouses uselessly. Barevi commerce would improve if we cross-traded, but I'm not sure if Botany, much less Earth, would be willing.”

“We come in peace. Take us to your bazaars?” Iri saw the irony.

“Why should Botany make all the effort to establish a rapport?” was Zainal's next question.

“A good point. Is there a new stable government on Earth, as Chuck said?” Iri asked with hope.

“Yes, a coordination of efforts and resources,” Zainal said, approving what he had seen. “For instance, we traded medicines from one coordinator's sphere of influence to another's in Africa, and we got coffee beans, which turned out to make a remarkably tradable item on Barevi.”

“Catteni like coffee?” Iri asked Zainal in his dry way.

“You should have seen what a few pounds of beans could buy us. And you will. I plan,” and Zainal could feel enthusiasm return, “to obtain coffee bean plants on our next visit to Earth and try them in the southwest, near the Masai lands.”

“I do like a cup of coffee or three in the morning,” Iri
said. “You didn't bring back an espresso machine, did you?”

“No, but I'm sure I can trade for one on Earth. Whatever it is.”

Iri sighed again and put a veined hand with swollen knuckles on Zainal's arm. “You get to my age and you find that food is about the only thing that tempts you.”

“We have coffee, from the Kenyan mountains, and the milder bean from Santa Lucia.”

“You spanned continents with no problems?”

Zainal nodded. “Surprise was our main advantage. We were, however, met with courtesy. I'm not so sure how other Catteni groups would be received.”

“Doubtless with suspicion?”

“Possibly, until we clear their peaceful arrival with the Watch Dog security force. I don't know how they would now rebuff a hostile force, but they would know before it reached Earth. Kris said, ‘once bitten, twice shy.' There is also the matter of resources. Catteni enterprise has been cut back considerably since the controlling force is inactive.”

“Kamiton and the others are having more trouble with the transition from the Eosi.”

Zainal nodded and the judge went on. “History supports the supposition that it's one thing to have a revolution and another to recover from it. Earth is doing the better job. This time,” the judge remarked succinctly. “And if they have, it will be the first time in the long struggle of humanity. May I live to see it!” He gave a long sigh. “What else do you plan, Zainal?”

“I plan to use our ships to run between Earth and Barevi, and to start an orderly collection of the products of Catteni mining worlds.”

“What about the rest of our missing folk?”

“That will take far more organizing—and exchanges—than I can currently contemplate, but I was able to secure lists of which slave ship went where. Exchanging workers may be more difficult, if not downright impossible.

Your species is admirably suited to the work required to keep such planets and facilities operating. Earth needs the mineral resources as much as Catten does. A little competition might be beneficial. What I envision is cooperation, too, between Catteni and Terrans.”

“Politics has always made strange bedfellows,” Iri remarked.

Zainal did not quite understand his reference as it might apply to their two species, especially as he saw nothing strange about having Kris as his bedfellow.

“Coordinators run Earth, you say?”

Zainal nodded.

“I must think how coordination can best be extended.” He patted Zainal's arm again as they came to the main settlement of Retreat. “You have done well. You are thinking. It is thinking men we need right now.”

“There is much our two races can exchange to the benefit of both.”

“Then we need more coordination and cooperation.” The judge dismounted from his motor and looked inquiringly at Zainal. “You called a meeting for this evening?”

Zainal nodded.

“We will then coordinate efforts.” The judge strode away, nodding right and left at those who greeted him.

Zainal went to the main dining room, aware that he was hungry, and hungry for Botanic food. A nice juicy broiled rock squat would taste fine right now, and some tubers. Seed potatoes were another item that he must try to return with. And other Earth vegetables that might do well. Hadn't Kris said one of their drivers had farmed nearby? There was still so much to do and plan. Would he ever be able to drop back to Botany and stay put? Why must duty keep calling him away to attempt the impossible?

Because that was what he had undertaken to do and felt responsible for completing. He wondered if that was what had driven the Eosi. But he was not Eosi: he was
a Botanist—no longer a Catteni, but of, and for, this world. And of and for this world, he would do everything possible so that it would continue with all its promise and plenty.

A hand caressed his shoulder and he looked around to see Kris beside him in line waiting to be served.

“Rock squat, please,” he said, pointing to the browned segment he liked. “You'll never believe how important those rock squats were to us in our travels,” he told the server.

“Really?” The woman was surprised. “Nice to see you back, Zainal, Kris. And thanks for the coffee beans—even if we still have to ration them.”

“Not for much longer,” Zainal said with the airy confidence that suddenly enveloped him.

Kris also chose rock squat and as they picked other selections from the salad bowls, she paused to point out Bazil and Peran, sitting with Brone and looking very pleased with themselves.

“I think the teacher is being taught,” she murmured, since Brone's head was turning this way and that, constantly observing those in the hall.

As they looked around for a table, they saw other members of their crew dining with friends and relatives. Floss, Clune, and Ditsy were, however, alone at a big table to which Kris and Zainal made their way.

“Good to be home, isn't it?” she said conversationally.

“Well, it's nice not to have to be . . .” Floss shrugged.

“Apprehensive?” Clune asked, reaching for her hand and smiling down at her.

“Yeah, that's the word. Everyone likes my dress,” Floss added, stroking the fabric down the front over one hip. “No one has one like it.”

“Nor are they likely to,” Kris said.

“Aren't we going back to Africa?” Floss asked. Clearly she wanted to get more brightly colored material. It did suit her.

“That's up for discussion,” Zainal said in a tone that suggested an end to that subject.

“We'll have to,” Clune said, lifting his cup of coffee to his lips. “I'm as addicted to this stuff as everyone else.” He took a sip. “We'd get clearance just by promising to ensure a supply of coffee.”

“There's more to be done than that,” Ditsy said with some scorn.

“D'you miss Ferris?” Kris asked.

“Yeah,” Ditsy said in a bleak tone, slumping in his chair and laying an arm on the table to prop his head on, in a totally disconsolate mood. “Never thought he'd desert me for a dentist!”

“Speaking of that, we never did get one of his dentist friends to come work here on Botany,” Kris said in mild self-reproach.

“There are a lot of things we didn't get to do,” Zainal said, “this time!” He gave a sharp nod of his head to indicate that he intended to perform at a higher level soon.

“Think of the things we did do, Zainal! Not too shabby,” Kris replied. Lord, was everyone down in the dumps? Post-something-or-other depression? Kathy Harvey very much wanted to achieve more miracles of repair on satellites, especially with that nice young fellow at the green coords—Wendell? Wasn't that his name? Yes, John Wendell. Kathy had been mopey now and then. It was Jax who had clued Kris in to her interest in the attractive young communications expert who was worlds away from them right now. Oh, well.

Many people came up to have a few words with them and the general drift of the comments suggested to Kris that the majority of Botanists were impressed with the visible results of this first mission, even if it had not been as successful as Zainal had anticipated. He had returned the remaining gold nuggets and flakes to Mike Miller, who had been extremely surprised to receive them. He'd also asked about what other metals were available in
good supply: not that anything wouldn't be welcome on ore-starved Earth.

“Shucks. You coulda used it all, Zainal. We don't need it here.”

“I couldn't use it all, Mike, as most countries are no longer on a gold standard. Coffee beans were more acceptable. And the copper, tin, lead, and zinc.”

“Who'da thought it?” Mike said, slack-jawed with surprise, but he carefully signed a receipt for the gold, and Zainal told him the combination of the digital lock on the safe box.

“Got more of those lesser metals if you need them.”

Zainal did not remark on that, which implied that Mike, for one, approved of further expeditions. Kris smiled and thanked Mike.

“You know,” she said, “I got the impression from the green coord that the problem might not just be that there is no transport for what resources Earth has left. They need more miners, too. I suspect he could use all who would come.”

She could see that Zainal was turning things over in his mind. He'd been doing a lot of thinking lately, more silent than usual—even for him. Still, she had a few things to ponder herself.

This time she'd bring a lot more flour and rock squats. She began to itemize the other natural supplies of Botany's bounty in terms of how they would trade on Earth. They could share more until Earth recovered its own agriculture.

Leon Dane's appearance at their table seemed only natural to her, and she broached the subject of their mission to Kenya and the typhoid epidemic. She knew that Leon and his staff had been busy trying to catalog the therapeutic herbs and roots of Botany. They had done so to provide alternatives for the medicines they'd used on Earth. So far there had been no epidemics of anything except for measles. That had run its course—through the
crèches, of course, but there had been no serious side effects for any of the children.

“Is it true that some pharmaceutical companies are still operating down on Earth?” Dane asked, sliding into an empty chair and sipping his coffee. “Best thing you could have brought back,” he added with a grin. “Really good beans, too.”