Freedom's Ransom Part 14

'Hmm, but not all would be roasted.'

'Beggars can't be choosers.'

'Nor winners poor losers,' Sembu said and extended his hand to Chuck. 'I can provide you with a roaster and instructions, but roasting is a delicate business.'

'We'll take the roaster, and the mistakes will be ours,' Chuck said, taking the hand. 'In all fairness to Jelco here and the green coord,' he added, 'they'd no idea we'd be dropping the KDM in their lap, so to speak.'

The deal was struck and the chief gave orders to his workers to start loading. At which point Zainal called back to the s.h.i.+p to bring out the lifts. He suspected they'd be needed to load the roaster though he'd no idea what size the thing would be.

That was providential because the large and bulky roaster could accommodate three sacks of beans at a time. It was loaded onto the KDM. Sembu was fascinated by the lift, even after Zainal warned him that its power pack was half-drained, but trading it bought them all the fresh produce they could store as well as four twenty-five-pound sacks of the rough brown sugar that Kris and Floss found in the local market. Kris also bought some lengths of a blue fabric displayed at the market so that Floss could finally have some new dresses. The girl was touched that Kris remembered such a detail amid all the others she was currently handling. Kris tried to find cinnamon and raisins but no one paid her much mind in the scurry to load the coffee beans. The entire warehouse of coffee bean sacks fitted neatly into two of the three KDM cargo holds.

'Having all robustas is great,' Kris said, 'but we could use some of the milder arabicas, too.' She had listened to enough of the spiel to have absorbed some details about the romance of coffee.

'They are grown elsewhere than Kenya,' Sembu replied. 'However, as ours are often used in combination with arabicas, and considering that trade is nonexistent, you might be able to exchange robustas for a few sacks of arabicas in, say, Santa Lucia in the Caribbean. If that's on your way, of course.'

'That's an island,' Kris said, trying to place it.

'In the Caribbean. There are many plantations on it. One, in fact, not far from the volcano.'

'Volcano?' An acceptable landmark, certainly.

'Oh, it's not active. Or wasn't when I last had news, but you might do a deal with them. Their beans are very good - for arabicas,' he said with a slightly deprecating smile for a lesser breed, 'but excellent in its category.'

Kris grinned.

'Asante sana,' Bazil said politely, bowing slightly to the man.

'I never thought I'd hear a Catteni speaking Swahili. It is worth much to have you here,' Sembu said, smiling benignly down at the st.u.r.dy boy.

'Would you know, sir, where we can get some olkiloriti?' Kris asked.

'But of course.' Sembu was really surprised.

'We found some bushes the last time we were here,' she said, 'for the Masai tribe that now resides on Botany. They require the plant for a rite of pa.s.sage.'

'You have Masai on Botany?'

'Yes,' and when the man frowned, Kris hurried on. 'They have their own settlement on the southern peninsula and we brought them some acacia bushes but there is always a need for more olkiloriti.'

'The children grow well?' Sembu asked, interested. He had also beckoned a worker to his side and gave him a low command. The man raced down the hill at such speed Kris worried that he would do himself damage.

'I would soon have been a moran,' Bazil said proudly, 'but my father brought me with him on this trip.'

Shortly, Zainal reappeared, having finished securing the cargo, and joined Bazil.

'Sembu has offered to bring us olkiloriti,' Kris said.

'Ah, very good. Our thanks, Sembu. We promised to find more for Chief Materu.' He also winked at Kris, for now they could honestly answer queries - if there were any - as to why they had detoured to Kenya instead of departing s.p.a.ceward from Newark. Jelco joined them while they waited for the return of the messenger, who came back panting somewhat from a quick round trip, but carrying a pouch that he turned over to Sembu. Who, in his turn, pa.s.sed it over to Kris.

'Please to say that we of Kenya are happy to provide this to your Masai chief.'

'You must let the green coord know when you stand in need of medicines again, Sembu, and we will return.'

'For more coffee beans, no doubt.' The man's smile was understanding.

'I shall send along more power packs for the float, too,' Zainal promised, before he bowed formally to Sembu and waved at the other workers who were unwilling to miss any of this pageant. Then Zainal led them all back into the KDM and pushed the b.u.t.ton to retract the ramp.

Carefully, so that little dust lifted from the ground to discommode Sembu, Jax lifted the KDM away from the heights and eased the s.h.i.+p over the forestry before she increased power. Heading west, she turned the KDM's nose skyward and increased power until the s.h.i.+p could once again engage its hypersonic drives and take them back to Newark.

It was almost anticlimactic to be back in Newark air s.p.a.ce barely four hours after they had taken off - a fact that the air tower personnel remarked on as they extended a warm welcome back, 'so soon'. They were a.s.signed their previous landing spot, and by the time Jax had landed the KDM, there were all kinds of trucks waiting to offload the precious coffee beans.

Twenty sacks of robusta beans were left in the KDM's hold and a good half of the fresh fruit and vegetables they had acquired at Kiambu Ridge. On the way back they had all enjoyed various fruits they had acquired: bananas, oranges, pa.s.sion fruit, cape gooseberries with their lanternlike husks, custard apples and guavas, avocados, coconuts, papayas and pineapples. And there were even chicken eggs and milk. Kris made a huge custard for dessert and planned to treat everyone to pancakes for breakfast. The KDM had a freezer unit but not a refrigerator, so she could not keep milk fresh for long.

Rummaging in the galley cabinets, Kathy had found a grinder of sorts and managed to reduce some beans to the proper consistency to brew coffee, so everyone had enjoyed the spoils of their excursion.

She gave Murray half a dozen eggs and the same to Jelco as well as a carton of milk for his young child and a hand of bananas. She had a huge stalk to present to the caterer. And two green stalks to ripen on the way back to Barevi as well as several crates of oranges, limes and lemons.

Then she got in touch with the tower controller and bribed him with some of their own coffee beans to give her aerial maps of Santa Lucia so they could plot a course and see if they couldn't exchange a quant.i.ty of robustas for arabicas. Nothing else they had, even the largesse from Nairobi, would be useful for trade, and they had only three sacks of wheat left with which to trade on Barevi.

There was no need to mention to anyone that they planned to stop off at Santa Lucia but they did spend the night at Newark. If this next stop was anything like as hectic as the Kiambu Ridge one had been, Zainal thought they needed to be rested.

Kathy and Jax plotted the southern course, which they figured would take about twenty minutes, allowing another fifteen first to get to speed and then to slow down enough to land without damaging anything. The volcano, while not active, was currently sending a grey plume skyward so they had a fine guide to it on the northern tip of the island and a great look at the plateaus as well as the choice of several obvious landing sites. They saw several long, low, galvanized roofs that looked similar to the type used for bean storage in Kenya. Well, that made sense to Kris.

Somewhat to their dismay, they found that Catteni must have visited the plantation several years earlier for the KDM's type of s.h.i.+p was recognized and men armed with rifles and machetes were waiting as the ramp extruded. Chuck was their spokesperson and Zainal and his sons stayed tactfully out of sight. Kathy and Jax accompanied the sergeant, with the remaining float carrying a sack of robusta beans. The sight of the logo on the sack turned out to be the rea.s.surance needed, and with a minimum of talk and an excess of pleasure, they managed to trade five robusta sacks and the remaining float for thirty arabicas, plus thirty more pounds of unrefined sugar. They got more green bananas and a case of local rum. Despite the fact that she was safe with Zainal, Kris did not join in the evening celebration once she had had a sniff of the liquor.

'That's stronger than Mayock's hooch,' Kris remarked, after a smell of the rum, and felt no desire at all to imbibe. She did reserve one bottle of the case for cooking. No one had cinnamon or raisins to trade. They were given more crates of citrus fruits, which would be novelties on Barevi. She wondered if she could manage to keep at least one stalk of the green bananas and a crate of oranges to bring back to Botany.

They stayed the night on the surface - at the owner's invitation - and evidently he had sent messages to his neighbours to come see what had landed on his parking lot. And they came in droves, on horseback. Bazil was much taken with horses and was put in the saddle of one animal (very gentle, Kris was a.s.sured) for a walk around. Peran, naturally, had to have a turn, too. It was a convivial evening and established their KDM as friendly.

When Kris suggested that they would probably return, they were begged to do so, and she made a list of the items for which they would gladly trade. She was not astonished to note that tyres, Toyota truck spark plugs and twenty-volt batteries were the most important items.

'We could keep all our KDMs busy hauling stuff in and coffee beans out,' she said to Zainal.

'Mmmm,' was his response. 'But these folks don't have what we desperately need.'

7.

The next morning, when the KDM lifted from Santa Lucia, everyone was refreshed and keen to get on with the next phase of their mission. They logged out of the system with the Watch Dog and were given a cheerful 'farewell, come back again soon' from the Cheyenne Mountain NORAD facility. If Gino, who was pilot for the first leg of their flight to Barevi, cheerfully a.s.sured them that they would, there was no demur on their part.

'The Botany boys will be back,' he crowed as he signed out of Terran s.p.a.ce, and the powerful engines of the KDM sent them galactically north towards Barevi.

As they neared the trading planet, there was more chat on the comm lines between Catteni captains, and whenever possible the duty officer repeated Peter's carefully composed commercial about the new trader and goods coming soon to Barevi. The other key members of the ransom group now spent s.h.i.+fts listening to Catteni messages and practising with Zainal's sons, who were delighted to be in the position of teachers instead of pupils. They also absorbed new vocabulary and phrases.

When not on duty, Peran and Bazil indulged in what Kris knew was simple sibling bickering but she was unable to discipline the boys. They certainly resented any interference in their 'discussions' or the way they teased Floss. Fortunately, Kris could distract Floss, and Jax and Kathy both helped the girl make a dress from the fabric Kris had unexpectedly found at the market in Kenya. Floss had gushed with appreciation for Kris's thoughtfulness. Of course, the boys teased Floss about that - when Zainal and Chuck were absent - but she was well able to make sharp retorts. There were a few incidents when they tried the same tactics on Ferris and Ditsy, but the two Terran boys were more than able to deal with the Catteni ones and earned their respect. Kris knew they resented her monopolizing their adored father's free time and were inclined to disregard any requests she made of them; she had expected that, even if she didn't know how to counter their impudence. But it was a long flight to Barevi. She would be very glad when there was a tutor a.s.signed to keep them occupied.

When it came time for the Ba.s.s-1 to contact the Barevi s.p.a.ce station that regulated all traffic in and out of the system, Captain Jax Kiznet was the pilot. This included her insistence that she did command the Ba.s.s-l, origin: Botany Free Planet. Zainal was sitting as copilot, letting her handle the contact and repeat the landing instructions. Barevi Tower was sarcastically upset over having a female answering their orders and evidently in command of a s.h.i.+p: a pilot of unknown ability flying in busy traffic s.p.a.ce. Jax was quizzed on docking procedures by the s.p.a.ce station commander, Ladade, who sounded surly until finally Zainal intervened and said that he, Zainal, had been her instructor and that she was competent to pilot, even in such a busy port.

'Hey, this Ladade backed down real quick when you said you were Zainal,' Jax said admiringly.

'See that you prove my ability to teach you properly,' was Zainal's reply.

She did, concentrating on the job. As they made their approach, Zainal kept checking the screen for any navigational anomaly. Although there were stiff penalties for abusing Barevian s.p.a.ce, there were also hazards, which he hoped to help Jax avoid. The barges that carried intersystem traffic were known to deviate from their projected courses and provide obstacles. She had her eyes open for such problems and kept one eye on the screens.

'This is a very active s.p.a.ceport?' she asked Zainal when he pointed out an erratic s.h.i.+p for her to avoid. 'And I thought there was a lot of junk in Earth s.p.a.ce!' She pointed to the ma.s.s in the upper starboard quadrant.

'Oh, that,' Zainal replied, shrugging it off. 'That's real s.p.a.ce junk. Barevi port facility is equipped to do major overhauls and refits. That's where they put carca.s.ses and damaged structural members. And s.h.i.+ps that don't pay their docking charges.'

'Oh? When they haven't a bean left?' she asked, flas.h.i.+ng a quick grin at him.

She really was a good pilot, Zainal thought, wondering whom he should train next on their return to Botany. There were plenty of willing candidates. He had watched all of them on the simulator and they all had good reflexes and instincts. The Botany s.p.a.ce Force had enough cargo s.h.i.+ps now that new pilots were always needed.

From s.p.a.ce, Kris thought that Barevi Market really hadn't changed at all, except perhaps for its lack of eager customers filling the vast places. As they hovered above the docking facility seeking their a.s.signed bay, Kris pointed out the overlapping squares of the market. She felt an almost - definitely almost - nostalgic relief at seeing it again. It was, after all, the site of the beginning of her amazing adventures. They'd already started the rumour mill with Peter's intentionally provocative commercial and they had had to keep the comm unit manned on a twenty-four-hour basis with their best Catteni speakers. Even Bazil and Peran had taken short stints, enormously pleased to be allowed such a responsibility, and certainly Zainal was delighted that they handled their first official duty so capably.

The next morning, Zainal sought out the market's manager and paid over almost all the Catteni coin he had to lease appropriate s.p.a.ce in the market. Over several hundred years, the facility had grown from its original square, each addition overlapping older ones. The corners provided enclosed shops that afforded some privacy. Zainal wanted one for Eric's 'office'. The first week's rental reduced his small store of Catteni coins to a handful of loose change.

'What commodities, Ema.s.si?' Chief Kapash asked.

'Various. Food items from Botany and oddments. We expect to trade for items available only on Barevi.'

'Yes, Supreme Ema.s.si Kamiton told me' - the commander paused for Zainal to recognize the significance of his having had a personal interview with such a personage as the Supreme Ema.s.si - 'that you were coming and you must be accorded the respect and privileges of a trader. However, I will have no personal disputes settled in my market s.p.a.ce.'

'Will you also police the market to be sure we are allowed to trade freely?'

'I'll have you know we allow no brawling or bullying within the confines of the marketplace,' Kapash said, straightening at the implied slur on his management.

Zainal had known the man from his previous tour of duty on Barevi. Kapash was running more to fat than muscle for his extra flesh strained his uniform and destroyed the fit of it.

'My! How Barevi has changed,' Zainal remarked and noticed the smug grin on Kapash's blunt-featured face as he accepted the keys to the enclosure he had just leased and left the office. He didn't fail to see Kapash give a sign to one of the huge Catteni in the outer room and knew that all his movements would now be reported back to the chief. Nothing new in that. May the fellow at least have the intelligence to understand what he saw. Zainal hadn't run Barevi's market for a full Catteni year without learning a few tricks and the counters to them.

His next task was to apply at the hiring hall for a tutor for Bazil and Peran. The two boys were running a little too wild for his liking. He knew they flagrantly disobeyed Kris and that they had got a little out of hand by the end of the long journey here. That must stop.

The hiring hall had the usual number of unemployed, some with the unmistakable look of 'command' about them, but he required more than authority to control and shape his sons. He filled out the form, specifying a younger man, preferably one with pilot training, and definitely with a good educational background in the sciences. Considering the current situation with no new exploratory expeditions, there was surely some young man who would meet his requirements.

On his return to the s.h.i.+p, he pa.s.sed by storage sheds with doors ajar, and men working among cartons displaying Terran manufacturers' logos. Yes, Chuck had been right. Most of what they urgently needed was here. To acquire tyres and batteries and the spark plugs required to repair Terran ground vehicles might be less of a challenge than getting the comm-sat components. He pa.s.sed by a large locked unit that smelled aromatically of warm rubber, for the sun was hot enough to heat many of the inadequately vented warehouses.

He took one last look at his new premises, checking first on the electrical system and taking pictures with a small camera. Bayes had also supplied him with a unit that would test the circuits and power available. They did have some step-down transformers for Eric's equipment. The shop was equipped with a stout reinforced door, though only a broken chain and lock dangled from the latch. Well, there were many ways to lock a door. A tap slightly askew on its pipe let out rusty water, which gradually cleared. When it did, Zainal filled a small bottle so they could a.n.a.lyse it in the s.h.i.+p's little medical station. Generally speaking, such resources were potable and the rust was only from long disuse. He was within his rights to insist on properly filtered water, and the last thing they needed was to distribute anything contaminated to their customers.

He also rented the largest lift platform that he spied in the street in front of Kapash's office, available from its owner, an old, one-armed ex-soldier whom he thought he remembered from his Barevian year as market manager. The man certainly recognized him. Veterans were allowed to work on the docks as compensation for their loss of limbs. A name came to mind - Natchi - and seemed to be accepted by the garrulous veteran. The poor devils all looked alike, distinguishable only by the parts they were missing.

'They'll all be watching you, Ema.s.si Zainal,' Natchi remarked out of the side of his mouth. 'We have heard rumours of your return. And how you single-handedly accomplished the end of Eosi domination. This has not made you popular in all places. Do not lower your guard for a moment,' the veteran muttered as he handed over the lift control hand unit. 'You kept Barevi relatively calm the year you were here. May you prosper.'

Zainal nodded in acceptance of the warning. 'If you hear more, come to my shop. We shall always have a hot drink for you, Natchi, and a seat in the shop whenever you need to rest your old bones.'

'Old they are, Ema.s.si. Return the lift when you have no further need of it, and my grat.i.tude that you remembered my name.'

Zainal nodded and, guiding the lift in front of him, went back to the Ba.s.s-1's berth. He a.s.sumed his most aloof manner as he made his way, glad, after Natchi's warning, that he had already put Chuck on an alert status at their berth.

'They been around like flies,' Chuck said, scurrying to join him when he spotted Zainal approaching. 'I was improving Bazil's and Peran's targeting skills.' He pointed to the dartboard hung from a convenient loading spike, and the number of green-fletched darts lodged in the King ring. 'Peran's got the keener eye but what could be more typical than me teaching two kids an old game?'

'Nothing,' said Zainal, though he suspected that Chuck had removed the boisterous youngsters to give Kris a break from their bickering. 'Much interest?'

'Think most of the other s.h.i.+ps in port sent someone to take a gander and had quite a few not so subtle inquiries.

Merchants' reps, all of 'em, trying to figure out what we're going to sell.'

'Make me a copy of these,' Zainal said, tossing Chuck the keys. 'And do we have digital locks with us?'

'I've got locks aplenty. I'll set up several, in fact, because I heard rumours that there are some who have bones to pick with Ema.s.si Zainal.' Zainal nodded for he knew many Catteni considered him a traitor, even if he had managed to end the restrictive Eosi domination. 'Who's market manager? Vitters?'

'Kapash is market manager.'

'Had dealings with him before?' Chuck asked. 'Don't know him but Vitters was useless. Kept forgetting who took the biggest bribes from him. Wonder who killed him?'

'Not our problem, and we'll have more than our share, I suspect.' Zainal gave a shrug. 'I know of Kapash, let us say. He may not be an improvement over Vitters. And once we have goods on the premises, I'll want to be sure nothing is missing the next day. Natchi, a one-armed veteran, has also warned me. Natchi is to be given as much coffee as he wishes. He'll do more than cool his drink with his breath if he hears anything we should know. Is Clune the biggest man we've got? Or Ninety Doyle?'

'It'd be a toss-up, Ema.s.si.' Chuck grinned and, with a flourish, gestured for Zainal to precede him up the ramp and into the KDM. 'Even the biggest Catteni would think twice before tangling with either of them unless they were totally nuts.'

'Have I still got the spy on my tail?'

'Big ugly son, straggly beard, wearing dirty yellow pants and a blue vest?'

'You've seen him. The very one.'

'Wouldn't like to upset that fellow!'

'I don't want anyone leaving this s.h.i.+p alone. Only in groups of two, preferably three. The women are definitely not to leave without a male escort.'

'What would they leave for?' Chuck demanded. 'All the comforts of home.'

As Zainal reached the main corridor, he could smell the fragrance of fresh coffee and made his way quickly to the wardroom, where, as if she had known his exact moment of return, Kris had a cup ready to hand him when he entered.

'The boys saw you coming,' she said, smiling. 'I was roasting more coffee beans. Tell me what you think of this brew. Maybe I can get the right balance yet. Could you smell it on the dock?' He could hear the exhaust fan whirring but he hadn't smelled the aroma on the dock. Other things had been redolent: hot grease, oil and stale s.h.i.+p fuel: the usual compound in this sort of area.

'They'll all know by tomorrow.' Zainal shrugged with an indifference he didn't feel. In fact, he was seething with antic.i.p.ation to witness the stir they would make in the unexpectedly torpid atmosphere of what had once been a hectic and active marketplace. He had also trodden on parts stuck in the mud of the market aisles. The one he dug out was indeed a spark plug but too dirt-encrusted to be saved; another was a circuit board of some type. What Chuck had reported was correct: merchandise was being wantonly and casually destroyed. So much for Kapash's boast that he kept the facility in order.

Chuck came in then, hanging the dartboard back on the wall in its usual spot.

'Another cup, please, Kris, before I take a casual' - Chuck grinned that 'casual' was not the most apt adjective - 'stroll around the market.'

'Take Clune and Ninety with you and show them Stall Ninety-two,' Zainal said. 'Northwest corner. There is a wooden floor to which we can attach Eric's equipment.