"And only the one microscope, which evidently isn't strong enough to do much, so it's back to old trial and error." So, since trial wet compresses helped, more were made of bandage strips in the first-aid kit and wrapped around her arms and laid on her face and neck.

That was when Sarah's baby decided to arrive. In fact, he did before his father and the others returned, though Kris immediately called a mayday for Joe over the hand unit.

"I must've miscounted,' Sarah said apologetically lo her midwives when she realized her labour had begun. 'This business of thirty-hour days and seven-month pregnancies!'

"Nonsense,' Kris and Leila retorted in the same breath. 'It isn't

as if we don't know what to do,' Kris added, though her mind I was revolving in a panic over all the things they didn't have on board the scout that might be needed.

None were, as Sarah's fine lusty baby took the minimum of time in arriving so that both mother and child were all cleaned up when the father leapt into the clearing, red-faced with exertion and badly scratched in his effort to get back in time. Then Whitby and Zainal were congratulating him and Sarah, and admiring the baby. Kris had her eyes on Zainal, wondering if human babies were in any way different from Catteni newborns.

"Small,' Zainal muttered, knowing some comment was needed.

"Small?" exclaimed Joe indignantly as his son squirmed in his arms in reaction to the sudden loud noise.

"He's not small at all,' Leila said emphatically, startling the rest of the team since she rarely contradicted anyone. 'He's eight pounds and a few ounces. And healthy!" 'And I feel fine,' Sarah said, 'and it's so good to do this,' she added, for she was sitting up with arms around her knees, a position she hadn't been able to assume for several months.

l l 'How big are Catteni babies, if you think this one's small?" Kris asked, deciding she'd better straighten him out before he could be disappointed in what she produced.

Zainal measured a distance with his hands.

"I pity the females who have to carry that much around,' said Sarah, shaking her head.

"Bigger head, quite likely, and bigger bones,' Joe said sagely.

"He's healthy, that's what matters,' Whitby remarked in a definitive tone.

But young Anthony Marley caused the team to leave the insalubrious area and head back to Retreat Bay. Sarah tried to talk them out of an early return, because she and Anthony were Me and the reconnaissance could continue as far as she was concerned. But Joe was having none of it, wanting both wife and child checked over by the medics.

Leon Dane pronounced Sarah in excellent post-natal condition and Fawzia Johnston, the paediatrician on duty when they returned, said that young Anthony was as healthy and normal as any mother could wish.

The Doyle brothers, who now spent more time as carpenters and joiners, instructing others in the art, presented Sarah and Joe with a cradle for the infant.

"Working all the hours God gave Botany to keep up with the demand,' Lenny said, after duly admiring young Anthony and congratulating the parents. 'You know, this place is getting more like home all the time, with the babees arriving." He looked melancholy.

"You miss your own?" Sarah asked, putting a sympathetic hand on his arm.

Lenny's face brightened into a grin. 'Sort've, but who's got time to think of what we left behind with so much to do where we are?"

If Zane Charles Bjornsen arrived on Botany at dawn exactly 222

days after conception. He was a long child - in that he did resemble his father. He came with fingernails that had to be cut soon after his birth, or he'd have scratched his fair face, and a mass of very dark hair.

He was not, as Anthony Marley had been, red, wrinkled and an object only his mother could love.

"Zane is a perfectly good name,' Kris had told Zainal. 'One of

my favourite Western writers was Zane Grey. And I admireI

Chuck Mitford."

"But he is not the father." Zainal did no more than raise one eyebrow at her, tacitly asking the question she had refused to answer.

"No, but I see no reason I . . . we . . . can't do him the honour of being godfather."

"God father?" Zainal's lips twitched. 'O God, o God . . .?"

"Not that sort. The deity that Father Jacob reveres, the real God."

"There is one?"

Zainal had trouble believing in the Almighty, though the several ministers who had been dropped were trying to establish services. The Protestants had no problems, but Father Jacob did since he had none of the accessories properly required to say Mass, and fretted about their lack and how he should manage without them.

Marrucci proved to be a devout Catholic, and did his best to console the good Father in one of those role reversals which continually happened on Botany.

"If God is everywhere, then He's here, too, padre, and He'll accept the worship of the sincere, dedicated to Him. The earliest Catholics had no altar or relics, and communion was bread and wine. We got them. We got the dedication. You say the words and I'll be altar boy." Mitford was both pleased and alarmed to have a child named for him. 'Everyone will think he's mine, and he isn't,' the sergeant said at his gruffest. 'Not that I wish he weren't, Kris,' he added hastily.

"I mean, I'd've been honoured if you'd wanted to, but . . . well, hell, you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, Chuck."

"So who is the lucky guy?" 'Remember that hooch Leon and Mayock made, about the time I broke my arm?" 'Yeah, I do,' and Mitford looked surprised, then he scowled deeply.

"You mean you got raped and never reported it?" His fists clenched as if he held the neck of the offender within them.

Kris patted one such fist gently. 'I don't know about any rape.

But I do know I was very, very drunk." Chuck frowned. 'Pete Easley took you back to your cabin, didn't he?" 'He may have, Chuck, but I don't recall a thing - and perhaps that's as well, don't you think?"

"No, I don't."

"Can't do anything about it. But maybe when Zane grows up, we'll know for sure. Zainal couldn't care less."

"NO, he couldn't - and you know, the way he's taken this hasn't lost him any points." Zainal was at that moment changing his foster son's fluff diapers. The reeds which produced the useful material were being cultivated everywhere they would grow around Retreat Bay.

The sticky sap that had been such a problem on their last reconnaissance trip had been harvested and, poured into a mould, made a reasonable facsimile of waterproof garments for baby use. They could be washed and re-used four or five times but gradually dissolved, often at the wrong time.

Mitford grinned, watching the anomaly of a Catteni Emassi acting the nursemaid.

Of the 2,103 new lives expected, all but five made it: two human babies were stillborn; one of the Rugarian young lived three days and died, but even the one Rugarian who understood his species' needs could not give a reason; a fourth was unfortunately strangled by the umbilical cord during delivery, and the fifth, a Deski, was malformed when it hatched and did not survive.

The promised creches were opened, and every female had the right to leave their youngling in the general care for her day's work or whatever community service she performed. Sometimes it was creche duty. Kris started the fad of the papoose board, dredging that up from reading Westerns and historical novels about Indians. It worked well for babies up to three months, and for shorter periods after that.

"I said you will be a good mother,' Zainal said with a touch of smug pride when she showed him how she could carry Zane around.

To Kris's astonishment, she didn't find caring for Zane as onerous as she had expected, and that had little to do with Zainal's enthusiasm for the child. She had never had anything so completely dependent on her, so trusting, and so precious to her. Once or twice, she wondered if she was being unfair to Pete Easley by not telling him.

But he and one of the Swedish Aggies had made bricks together, which was equivalent to becoming engaged on Botany. If Kris caught him looking very carefully at her son, she ignored the query in his eyes and babbled on about how good a father Zainal was until even Pete Easley got bored.

The baby boom sparked a lot of investigations and experiments - a fine powder for talcum, an ointment for diaper and other minor rashes, a way to weave some of the vegetable fibres into cloth for proper baby-clothes, and a spinning-wheel to make knitting yarn out of the loo-cow hairs. The creatures had grown longer coats for protection during the colder weather. These were collected - before the night-crawlers could - and spun, then washed and/or felled.

The crops grew lush and green on both continents. The Catteni continued to do nothing in their valley. The miners excavated tons of iron, copper, tin, zinc, lead, gold andsilver - and occasionally some unusual clear stones which the jewellers thought a variant of tourmaline. But then, no-one was looking for gemstones or in the places where rubies, emeralds, sapphires or diamonds - which would have been useful for their hardness - might be found.

Bone was more useful, and the heavy bones in the four rearlegs of the loo-cows were scrupulously cleaned and dried for carving.

Zane was just five months old when the Deski sentinel startled everyone on the south side of Retreat Bay with a warning warble. For such a slender species, with no great lung space, they could make a god-awful amount of noise. The baby was teething so Kris was awake, trying to soothe him. Zainal's comunit buzzed and he shot straight up in bed, alert, unit to his ear before she could take a single step to intercept.

"WHAT?" He was on his feet and hopping about on one foot, listening as he pulled on his coverall. Even in such a ridiculous pose, Kris admired his physique. If only Zane could have osmosed a single gene from his foster father . . .

"It's down,' Zainal added, as he closed the hand-unit and concentrated on dressing himself as fast as possible.

"What's down?" 'The Balloon." He had both boots on now and was starting for the door.

"I'm coming, too,' she said.

"Not like that!" He raked her with a disapproving look, for she was draped in a blanket.

She thrust Zane at his father and dressed as quickly as he, retrieved the blanket and two spare reed-pods and was inserting the baby into the sling she usually carried him in even as she settled into a passenger seat of the air-cushion truck. Zainal spun the control wheel and the vehicle charged off into the crepuscular light of dawn towards the hangar. Lights were coming up throughout the settlement and occasionally someone called out, 'What's the matter?" when Zainal was identified at the wheel.

"The Balloon is just down?" she asked as they sped along.

"Deski heard something, not like anything else they have heard,' Zainal was saying, 'and warned the bridge. The bridge watch had already seen something on the screen, but couldn't make out what." 'The Farmers?" Kris asked, scared to the pit of her stomach as she jiggled her son. Motion always put him to sleep, even upset with teething as he was, and even this short trip worked its magic on him.

Those alerted were arriving on air cushion, running as fast as they could and often faster than the basic push-bikes which had been developed for short-distance transportation. Pneumatic tyres were still to be perfected, but the iron rims did well enough on the flagstone and dirt tracks and were speedier than walking.

All the lights in the hangar were on, and the hatches on the KDL, Baby and the office were open. Runabouts were parked helter-skelter.

Zainal guided Kris to the of rice which was nearest. The bridgei

there would show just as much as the ships' would, and there'd be more space for her and the baby. In such little matters, Zainal always considered her and Zane.

Scott, Beggs, Fetterman, Yowell and Coo were in the office and Scott waved Zainal over urgently.

"A full orbit already, and it's not large. Not small enough to be a programmed orb, but moving too fast for us to get an accurate picture of its dimensions or shape." 'That,' and Coo pointed to the trail left by the orbital, 'is not heard. Something landed." He spoke with more force than a Deski usually did. He'd probably been repeating it to Scott.

Now Coo stabbed his spidery finger at the Farmers' Command Post, the one which Kris, Zainal and the others had investigated well over a Botanical year ago: where Dick Aarens had deliberately activated a homing device.

"Then what . . ." and Scott irritably followed the course of the orbital with one finger. Just then its track shifted to a north/south orientation. Even as they watched, it completed several whip-rounds the large globe of Botany. '. . . What is that?" 'We will know . .

." Zainal paused, eyes watching the progress of the orbital on the screen '. . . about now."

They felt the tingling zap of a scan and he chuckled.

"Oh migod,' said Fetterman, sitting down as if his legs had given out.

Kris had felt it course through her and Zane squirmed slightly against her in his sling. She stroked his cheek, wondering if the scan could have been too much for so small a body, and then felt Zainal's reassuring touch to her back.

"I will volunteer to go,' Zainal said.

Kris barely prevented herself from saying, 'Oh, no, you won't,' before Scott lifted both hands in a refusal, his eyes not moving from the screen. The comunit bleeped and he toggled it open.

"We were just scanned?" It was Beverly's voice.

"Coo says they landed at the Command Post."

"Nothing's showing up there,' said Beverly.

Coo nodded emphatically, reaffirming his report.

"Fek agrees,' Beverly went on. 'Haven't we established they use matter transmission?"

"Oh, oh,' Yowell said, and he stumbled backwards to collapse

on the nearest stool, his face a study of conflicting emotions: hope, fear, anxiety and confusion.

Coo's head turned towards the office door and he rose to his feet, lifting one arm to point straight ahead.

"They're here?" Scott asked.

Kris gulped, her arms automatically tightening on Zane. But, as soon as Zainal moved she was right behind him, ahead of the others who had hesitated just that split-second longer before acting. If their destiny was coming to them, she wanted to see it.

As they left the office, she glanced over at the KDL and saw Fek's unmistakable shape in the hatch, then Balenquah's stocky frame silhouetted briefly in the hatch light, followed by Worrell's slightly stooped figure, the tall erect one that was probably Rastancil, the slight frame of a woman whom she didn't recognize, and Slav. From Baby came Mitford, Easley, Yuri and Judge Iri.

They converged, forming a semi-circle facing outwards.

What happened before their eyes did not resemble anything from a Star Trek programme. No coloured lights, beams or columns; nor any other special effect Kris remembered from just about all the science fiction films and videos she'd seen. And yet it was. Something was out there, forming a solid mass which moved towards them, a nimbus around a darker interior. Something which even by the dawn light looked larger than the tallest of the waiting humans.

Then it wasn't taller and seemed to spread out, and she recognized the distinctive spider-legged form of a Deski. Beside her, Coo gurgled once and stiffened. With her free hand, Kris reached for Coo's long fingers and gripped them; she had Zane's face shielded with the other. Zainal had shifted his body so that he overlapped her in partial protection. But most of the forms that coalesced out of the mist - only it wasn't mist - were human in appearance as the details of face and appendages became obvious.

"They're shape-changers,' she whispered. 'They're changing nto us?"

Coo sucked breath in, a slow sound - terror? Apprehension?

Defensive? Kris tightened her grip, not knowing if she was giving or seeking support.

"Shape-changers?" Scott hissed, eyes never leaving what was in front of his as he leaned slightly in her direction.

"There's a Deski and a Rugarian, and the rest are humans. But not as many of them as there are of us." When the transformation was complete, and there was no doubt that these visitors showed representations of the three species facing them, each group regarded the other.

"There's no Catteni." Kris's comment was barely audible, but the omission caused a little giggle to escape her which she hastily suppressed. If these were the Farmers - and every evidence pointed to that assumption, for who else could have lifted the Balloon? - then they weren't all-seeing and perfect. Somehow that gave her a lift of confidence. But no-one was saying anything and the tension was mounting.

So, if the visitors weren't showing immediate aggression, maybe they should be treated like visitors, all eight of them. We outnumber them, she thought, though 'outnumber' is all we do, considering what they just did. It was so silly to just stand there, looking at each other.

"Hello,' she said, making the word friendly and inquiring. She stepped around Zainal and inadvertently pulled Coo with her, just as Judge Iri Bempechat took a step forward. She knew she had a silly smirk on her face as she looked at the Judge for what to do next.

Whether she was impertinent or not, she never did find out, but the judge grinned fleetingly at her - so she felt she hadn't done anything really wrong - and he held out both hands, the galactic indication (she hoped) of being unarmed.

"We have hoped that we would meet you, and explain our presence on a planet which you have clearly used for many thousands of years,' he said, inclining his upper body slightly forward in a gesture that was as dignified as it was hospitable. 'I realize that you do not understand what I'm saying, but I hope the sincerity with which I speak will be apparent. We do realize that we have trespassed on your property, but we were brought here against our volition and cannot return to our own worlds." As the judge spoke, Kris felt the very slightest of pressures against her forehead, and at the back of her neck. Zane gave an odd little movement and she jiggled him gently, stroking his back m a reassurance that usually quieted him.

"We moved to this continent because you are not farming it now.

We did not wish to interfere with your installations here.

We wish to stay . . . with your permission, if it is at all possible, because we do not have sufficient transportation to leave here.

Can we try to make you understand? Somehow?" He opened his hands towards them again, with dignity and entreaty.

"It is understood,' said a voice remarkably like the judge's.

Whoever had spoken had done so so quickly that Kris hadn't seen any mouth moving. Then she realized that no-one had spoken; the voice was right in her own head. Zane moved restlessly again.

"We have come to meet with you. I30 not be afraid. We do not injure. We do not kill. We do not inhabit. You are very young, all of you."

"Young species?" Iri Bempechat asked, amused.

"Yes,' and one of the males used his mouth to enunciate the word, though she still heard it more in her head than her ears.

"Very young." Judge Iri smiled. 'We humans are. I believe the Deskis,' and he gestured towards Coo, 'have lived much longer than humans,' and he pointed to himself and then to Kris.

"We have seen the Deski and passed them by. They do well as they are. Why are so many here? Why are three . . . no, five species . .

. here on this planet?" 'We were dropped here. We have to stay,' Judge Iri said in a wry voice, flashing a glance at Zainal.

"Because the others, like this one,' and now the spokesperson gestured a well-shaped hand towards the Catteni, 'have put you here against your will to make a colony of this world." 'I see that we will not have to tell you much,' said Judge Iri.

"You read the thoughts in our minds."

"Such as they are,' and yet there was a kindness rather than a condescension in his tone that was sounding less like an echo of Judge Iri and more obviously reflecting this speaker's personality.

"We try to improve,' Judge Iri said, inclining his upper body respectfully.

"A very long, hard process that is eternal. But you are not.

"And you are?"

"In essence."

"Not as the Eosi are,' said Zainal.

The entity turned its head to the new speaker. 'We are not familiar with either the name or your mental image of these Eosi." "That's the best way to be,' someone remarked softly and, for a moment, Kris thought it had to be Mitford. It sounded like him. Or maybe Yowell, since the sergeant was in the central group, and Vic much closer.

"We seek your help to escape from the domination of the Eosi over my people, the Catteni, and these other species,' Zainal said, gesturing urgently at those around him.

"Such a process includes species' injury, which we do not condone." 'Even if injuries continue to be perpetrated on innocent species who have no protection against the superior force?" Judge Bempechat asked.

"If force is used, there is no reformation of the desires which caused force to be used,' and the entity's face now reflected a gentle reprimand.

"How do you avoid force, then?" Scott asked, speaking for the first time.

"There are ways. Learn them.

The figures began to dissolve.

"How are you called?" the judge asked, taking a quick step forward in an effort to prevent their leaving.

"You have named us Farmers. It is appropriate." The spokesman smiled in the most benign way.

Kris mused that this entity would have been well cast as Jesus Christ.

"He is not among you?" was the thought inserted in her mind.

"Don't leave,' Zainal said, also stepping forward, one hand upheld, 'not yet. How do we avoid force when it is used against us?

How do we free ourselves and our friends from Eosian domination?" 'Are we allowed to stay here? On your planet?" And Kris jumped forward, startling Zane awake. He let out a yell.

One of the Farmers glided forward. The legs moved but the female - because she appeared subtly feminine to Kris as she approached - did not make contact with the ground in an actual walk.

"They observe well,' and again a thought was inserted in her head as the being reached her and looked down at Zane. Despite Kris's attempts to soothe him, the first yell segued into soft, fearful crying. Not that she blamed Zane for reacting to the tension, the disappointment and the fear that clogged the air around him. Certainly those were her own feelings.

"We have so much to ask you. So many questions,' Easley said beseechingly.

"This is your child!" the female said, and she turned back to Kris.

Kris could no more have refused to display her son than she could have resisted the contractions that had expelled him from her womb.

She turned Zane, his face reddening in baby distress, towards the entity. The entity bent over him, slid one graceful, almost transparent hand over his face and he instantly switched to smiling contentment, burbling charmingly up at his newest admirer.

"There are many new young here,' she said, and Kris thought she sounded envious. 'We are!'

"Then we may stay?" Kris asked earnestly.

"You stay. We will observe but we do not interfere."

"May we leave?" Zainal asked, making a sphere with his hands.

"It is for your protection,' the first speaker said.

"We are grateful,' said Judge Iri, shooting a warning look at Zamal.

"That is more than the others were,' the thought crept into

Kris's mind, and the female reversed her glide to rejoin her group.

The instant they were all together again, they disappeared.

Like zap! Kris thought, as her son gurgled happily in her arms.

Everyone started talking at once then, the main argument being that they had learned very little, and who had made the Judge the spokesman, and why hadn't more questions been asked while they had the Farmers' attention? And who did Zainal think he was, demanding assistance from obvious pacifists?

Scott called for quiet. Judge Bempechat said in a humble tone that he had certainly not intended to speak for everyone but he suddenly found he was speaking. Balenquah railed at Kris for her stupid 'hello'.

"Well, we couldn't ask them to take us to them leader, could we?" she responded. 'And keep your voice down around my baby!'

:'Were you going to give him to them?" Balenquah demanded.

"Don't be such an idiot. She wanted to look at him,' Kris said and walked away from the egregious pilot. She'd thought Aarens was obnoxious, but Balenquah opened up a whole new category of insufferable.

"NOW LISTEN UP,' Scott said, raising his voice over the babble.

"We are allowed to stay. That was the most important fact we needed to know, wasn't it?" As he spoke, the sound of excited voices and the hum of aircushion vehicles nearing the hangar could be more clearly heard.

"Hey, they came. We can stay,' Lenny Doyle was shouting as he jumped from the air cushion and ran into the hangar. 'They just appeared outside the mess hall and . . ." He broke off, being close enough to see expressions. 'We can call them Farmers,' he finished, his words trailing off. 'They were here, too?" Worrell, Leon Dane, Mayock and two nurses were next, piling out of the air-cushion flatbed that doubled as ambulance.

Their faces were wreathed with the elated grins of persons big with news, which faded as they too realized that their experience was by no means unique.

Al 'How many shape-changers came?" Kris said into the silence.

Then the main comunit was buzzing as all lines into the office seemed to go off at once.

"Rather unusual mass hallucination then,' Dane said wryly.

"Should we compare notes? We can stay, or so they said, and we can refer to them as the Farmers . . ." 'Since that is appropriate,' the judge added in a tone much like Leon's.

"Did we all ask the same questions?" Leon asked, looking at Scott and then Zainal.

"We'd better compare notes,' said Scott, 'after we've answered those calls. Kris, Yowell, Zainal, help me with these . . ." and he gestured to the busy com board.

"How many were there?" Kris asked when there was time to review the astonishing simultaneous manifestation of Farmers to all major groups on Botany. Even the miners had had a visitation of ten.

No group of Farmers had been larger than those they had confronted. The five people on watch at the Command Post had been approached by three: those at the mess hall where the majority of people had been having breakfast had counted thirty. The hospital had been favoured with fifteen.

"All at the same time?" Leon asked, astounded.

"Fifty at least, and they could not all have fitted in that orbital!" Beverly said.

"That depends on how much space shape-changers need,' Kris remarked.

"If they appeared to all of us, why didn't someone find out more about them?" Scott demanded, exasperated. 'We all had the chance to make the confrontation substantive." 'We all had the same chance,' Rastancil said, grinning, 'but I sure couldn't get my wits to work fast enough, nor did I notice you asking leading questions, Ray." Despite the way Rastancil phrased it, Admiral Ray Scott took umbrage.

"Nonsense,' Kris said, 'they've had a lot more practice with

third-kind encounters than we have. We're young, we are,' and she giggled. 'Did you really think we'd get direct answers from a species that has the technology they have? We're far too young to deserve more than the few minutes they spent here with us." 'Let us look at the positive aspects of that confrontation,' Pete Easley said, holding up a restraining hand to Scott who seemed to be the one most offended by the lost opportunity. 'We now have permission to stay. I got the distinct impression,' and he turned to Zainal for confirmation, 'that we may even be able to get through the Balloon but others, like the Eosi, won't be able to."

Zainal nodded.

"I'd like you to organize a flight to test that, Zainal. Today, if at all possible,' Scott said, grasping a point he could understand and react to. 'I don't know if that advances yourPhase Three plan but . . ." and he shrugged.

"What did they mean about "that is more than the others"?" Kris asked.

Scott, Zainal and the judge regarded her with surprise.

"When you asked to have the Balloon removed, Zainal, and the judge said we were grateful for the protection, one of them said, "that is more than the others were". Didn't you hear It?" Kris glanced around. 'Was I the only one?" 'What else did you hear, Kris?" Judge Bempechat asked, smiling at her in a way that suggested that he might have had private thoughts inserted in his mind too.

"They envy us having children,' she said, looking around. And caught Pete Easley's eyes. He smiled at her and then she remembered the female's remark. 'This is your child!" And the female had been looking at Pete, not at Kris.

The truth will out, won't it, Kris thought to herself and nodded.

She had been mean not to tell him before: depriving him of that knowledge out of spite. He smiled back at her, a really happy smile, before pointing at Scott who was repeating a question aimed at her.

"I'm sorry, Ray, what did you ask me?"

"What else did you "hear" that we didn't?"

"I dunno,' she said with a shrug. 'I never thought I was telepathic. I thought we were all hearing the same things. Did anyone else beside the judge and me get special treatment?" 'I heard plainly that they will be examining this quadrant for sentient species which have developed since their last visit,' Zainal said, looking around.

"Last visit?" Pete Easley exclaimed. And whistled.

"They have been at Deski world,' Coo said, rather proudly.

"You come off better than we humans do, then,' Judge Bempechat said, grinning broadly.

Kris noticed that Scott had been about to speak but the Judge had forestalled the admiral with a much more diplomatic comment. Scott closed his mouth.

"I think,' the judge went on, reaching for pen and paper, 'we had best organize that astonishing interview as best we can recall it. And insert whatever we individually may have heard with the public comments."

"Good idea,' Leon agreed.

"We might have more in the composite than we got individually,' the judge said. 'We must ask the miners to do the same, and those at the Command Post - everyone who met our shape-changing Farmers." Zainal left midmorning, with Marrucci, Balenquah and Beverly, to fly to the Balloon and see if it permitted them to pass.

"More importantly, come back,' Kris said stoutly when Zainal told her they were going.

It took most of the day to transcribe the various interviews, and more information had been exchanged when it was all written down on paper.

"I wonder. Are they doing this sort of re-hash on their way back home?" Kris said at one point during the painstaking reconstruction of who had said what, when and where.

"I doubt it,' said Rastancil. 'They picked our brains quite easily, so they'd probably all know what went on everywhere else.

"Probably as it was being done,' Worry said with a sniff. Most

uncharacteristically, he had a distinctly unworried expression on his face.

Almost everyone - or at least those who worried about special problems - had been given 'private' information. Leon Dane, fretting over medical problems for which he had no treatment and waiting for a chance to ask for advice, had been told which specific plants to find and, 'like some sort of a super blast into my head', he got the method of refining and the beneficial dosages to use.

"We've already tested most of the plants as either noxious or damned well fatal. But, of course, minute and diluted dosages of dangerous substances have often had therapeutic value if properly administered. I just got a short, hard course in the local botanical resources. Seems there's a shrub, located on that dry continent, that can provide a general anaesthitic, but they would prefer us to use our one lone acupuncturist. She's to teach others her skills." 'They liked us making bricks,' Sandy Areson said, 'and I now know where to get five different varieties of clay .: ." 'And I was told what other bushes have seed-pods like the fluff which we can use to spin into cloth,' Janet said. 'He was so like Jesus Christ."

"Who is with us,' Kris added.

"What did you say?" Janet was indignant.

"'He is not among you?" was what I heard,' Kris said.

"And you will note,' Janet went on, drawing herself up with great dignity, 'that they appeared to us in human form. So we now have confirmation of the Almighty's appearance. Human!" 'That's because you had neither Rugarians nor Deskis in with you at the time,' Sandy Areson said, but she spoke without her usual irreverence for Janet's overt religiosity. 'We had both Deski and Rugarians, because that's who were having breakfast with us humans." The sentries at the Command Post had been kindly informed that their presence there was no longer needed. The miners had been assured that the Farmers did not object to the use of mineral and metallic resources. The loggers had been asked not to cut down the oldest trees, and were given permission to thin the other varieties grown on the second farmed continent as these were softer woods, more suitable for 'the making of useful artifacts .

Universal had been the permission to remain on the second continent, acceptance of the tem 'Farmers', and the fact that they did not condone 'species' injury'.

"They were sad to see us so far from home,' Coo admitted

'and?" Judge Bempechat prompted, when it was obvious Coo had been told more than that. 'Did they suggest returning you 'Not now,' Coo said. 'We are better here." Then he had smiled n his fashion. 'Much better here." 'We too,' Slav added. 'No-one safe with Catteni." He drew his brows together and managed to suck his lips inside his mouth, ndcatmg great displeasure. 'Farmers not see danger?" he added, looking from the Judge to Scott, Worrell and those still left m the office.

"Not if it causes species' injury, which they do not seem willing to commit even on territorially aggressive races like the Catteni . .

." the Judge began and when Kris cleared her throat, 'I stand corrected, my dear . . . like the Eosi . . .

who command the Catteni subordinates to do so without compunction."

"Hey, he's there, and I think he's doing it,' shouted Bert Put.

Everyone in the of rice crowded around the screen to watch the minute speck that was Baby. The speck disappeared, and most cheered and clapped at this verification of the tacit Farmer permission. Kris, however, held her breath.

"I wouldn't,' said Easley, who was standing next to her. 'He could be out a while." Inadvertently Kris met his eyes and exhaled with a weak smile.

She had been trying to avoid any conversation with him.

"So much hooch that day, I honestly don't remember what I did, or that I did,' he continued in a low voice. 'He's a good baby for you?"

"Couldn't be better,' she said, looking fatuously down at the

sleeping Zane. 'Thank you." And then she added, to keep him in his place, 'I think." Pete Easley gave a wry chuckle at her amendment and gave her shoulder a squeeze before he moved away. She would almost rather that he had stayed because the wait was a long one. She bet anything that Zainal was making sure the Eosi knew he'd been outside the Balloon, probably spinning the scout on its axis around the orbital as well as the geo-synchronous satellite. Just like him! Although what she thought he could accomplish, she wasn't sure. She was certain, however, that he did have some sort of a new Phase Three plan.

And cocking a snoot at the Eosi was part of it. Of course, that blew the painstaking false trail he had laid to get them to believe he was elsewhere in the galaxy.

But wasn't he taking an awful risk for all of them? What if the Balloon would give way to the Eosi warship now, In her arms, Zane sighed and snuggled closer to her. No, she thought, he would do nothing to jeopardize his son.

"Ah, he's back inside!" Bert let out another loud crow which caused Zane to stir uneasily. 'Heading home!" Relieved that Zainal had succeeded, Kris decided that she could now leave discreetly. Zane would need to be fed when he woke this time, and changed, and she'd run out of fluff pods.

She was tired, too, with all the excitement of meeting the Farmers, and then the re-hash of who had heard what and where. Once she'd fed her son, she'd have time for a rest before Zainal touched down.

The orbital duly recorded the emergence of a small vehicle from the protective veil: its emergence, its brief run around the fixed satellite and then its insertion. Nothing could be recorded past the obstacle, but this brief flight was enough of a phenomenon for the orbital to send an immediate message to its Home Base.

The report, when it was received, went immediately to the Ix Mentat who was enraged. Very quickly the vehicle was identified as similar in design to the scout-ship in which Zainal was supposed to have exited the system.

"Removing the markings fools no-one,' the Ix said. 'And if a scout with limited power can penetrate that obstacle in both directions, so can we!" The warship, the AAI, plus its sister ship which had just passed its test flights and been commissioned, were supplied and crewed for the fastest possible return to the system in question.

Twice the fire-power of the previous visit would certainly punch a hole through whatever it was that had impeded their exit and then refused to readmit the AAI.

"This time Zainal will return for appropriate punishment,' the Ix Mentat said, turning over in its mind the kinds of physical abuse that would wreak the worst pain and humiliation on the chosen who had failed to present himself at Eosi command. It savoured scenes of dismemberment, of flaying alive, of the application of noxious substances to the few tender portions of Catteni anatomy.

Meanwhile, the impetus to reach new heights of technological development extended to every single Eosi. They had been idle too long, complacent in their mastery of seven solar systems, their exploitation of the riches available to them, but with so many worlds still to be discovered and turned to Eosian advancement and enjoyment.

They were on the threshold of a new era in Eosi domination! Let no one curtail their pleasure in achievement. The galaxy would eventually be theirs!

When attacked by the might of Eosian naval strength, the barrier remained impervious to any combination of the missiles, beams and force available. The attack was useless against the barrier, and the bombardment of weapons of all kinds provedI insufficient to pierce it. Only those on the planet remained unaware of the attempt.

Throughout the Eosian-dominated systems, captains and governors were apprised of this unexpected insult. Word filtered down to the suppressed on Rugarian, Deski, Iginish, Turs and Terran home worlds, and on the compulsorily colonized planets. Hope was reborn! Reborn and thwarted by the savagery of Eosian frustration which now focused on extracting some means of penetrating that barrier from whatever source That might come. The Eosi had been unpleasant at any time; now they turned vicious. All effort was aimed at combating the first real test of Eosian supremacy since the Mentats had sloughed off their corporeal forms to find a type of mmortahty by usmg the strong Catteni bodies.

And still the barrier remained impregnable.

So the Ix Mentat sent out every available scout, far beyond previously explored sectors, to find any trace of those whose advanced technology prevented it from achieving the revenge it now craved.

"Baby slipped through like an eel,' Marrucci said, grinning broadly as he wiggled his clasped hands in demonstration.

"Mind you, Zainal had us at dead-slow and that might be the trick.

Come charging at it and it bounces you, back as it did the first time we nosed around." 'I think we were a little speedier re-entering,' Beverly said on consideration.

"We could have blasted the Eosi orbital. Baby's armed. Blown t out of the skies as a warning,' Balenquah said, sullen as ever.

"We should have, you know! Proven we can do something positive against their surveillance! And we didn't get so much as a whisker sensor stripped off." He added a 'Ha!" of satisfaction before wandering off to grab some of the sandwiches set out on the table, then left the office.

"Glad you were along, General." Marrucci said softly, 'That guy grosses me out." 'He is a good pilot,' said Beverly, but without much enthusiasm.

Scott leaned across his desk, gesturing for the other two to do the same. 'Is what Balenquah said accurate? You weren't beyond the Balloon long enough to be seen by the orbital?" Beverly grinned. 'Of course we were. Zainal even booted us past the geo-sync sat. That was his main object in seeing if he could breach the Balloon, to get the exit and re-entry noticed."

"Won't that just make the Eosi madder'n ever?"

"Frankly, I hope so. With Farmers protecting us . . ." 'Now, wait a minute." Scott sat bolt upright. 'What makes Zainal think they will if we pull damn-fool stunts like that?" 'If you're on the top of the pile by many light years, you don't need to do "species' injury" to maintain the position - not with the technology the Farmers have. But the Eosi don't. That'll piss them off, according to Zainal, and I think he's right. If they keep trying to storm Botany, won't the Farmers object?" 'Damn Zainal. He's going to get that Phase Three of his started one way or another,' and there was a touch of admiration in Scott's tone. 'But damnation, he should take us into his confidence on such decisions. We have the good of the entire community. And where is Zainal? I need to do more than debrief him now." 'Oh, he dropped us off and went on to check the Catteni valley, to see if the Farmers visited them. I thought you knew." The? I certainly didn't suggest it." Scott's frown deepened.

"That damned Cat!" 'Frankly, Ray, I'd like to know if the Farmers did appear to them. Mind you, I'm comfortable enough here on Botany, but there were a lot of things left undone on Earth and I'd expected to have a major part in their doing,' Beverly said, giving his head a final nod of emphasis.

"A soldier's first duty is to return to his unit if at all possible?" Scott said with a slightly condescending smile.

"You got it! As far as I'm concerned,' Beverly folded his hands together, 'I'm not stopping until Earth is free of the Eosi. A lot of us here feel the same way, and I suspect more than you'd guess would back Zainal in an attempt to get active Farmer support."

Scott considered that and sighed. 'If we could . . ." Then, in an

altogether different voice and with a rueful smile, he added, 'Not that I haven't learned some very valuable lessons here on Botany." 'We all have,' Beverly agreed with a wry expression, and he looked down at the callouses on his hands.

When Zainal returned, he immediately reported to Ray Scott that the Farmers had appeared to the Catteni and scared them so badly that two were still in shock. The others refused to believe that they had not been visited by Eosi, and pleaded with him to take them to a safer place.

"I told them these were not Eosi but the true owners of the planet, and if they tried to leave the valley

"What would be worse than Eosi?" Scott asked with a snort.

"What they do not know is always worse,' Zainal said with a shrug. 'They will never leave the valley."

"Had they been trying to?"

Zainal gave another of his shrugs. 'No. The Drassi has authority over them only on the ship. They will do nothing." 'You stayed long enough outside the Balloon to let both satellites have a good look at you?"

"As John told you,' Zainal said.

"Tell me, Zainal,' and Scott made himself lean back, as if totally at ease, 'is it wise to aggravate the Eosi this way? How can we be sure the Farmers will protect us if we taunt our enemy?

We know very little of their philosophy and society, or their technology, except that it is superior to everything any of us have seen." Zainal grinned, and the look in his eyes was menacing. 'Right now, the Eosi are very worried. Some other group is more advanced than they are -- they will not stand for that. They will be doing two things: searching for the Farmers and trying to take as large a technological leap forward as they can." 'Yes, but are they capable of it?'

"Wars have a habit of improving technology,' said Beverly.

"We should know that better than most, Ray." 'A lot of good our improved technology did us when the Catteni landed,' Scott said with a bitter laugh.

"Did they ever track down the subs?" asked Beverly.

Scott glared at him, tilting his head at Zainal.

"Whose side is he on, Ray?" Beverly said.

"My own,' Zainal said with a grin. 'I go home now." Kris was asleep and she roused briefly when she felt him slide under the blankets beside her.

"You've planned Phase Three, haven't you?" she murmured and, before he could admit that he had, she was asleep again.

Zane woke them as night was falling, ready to eat and play awhile.

"Well, you have, haven't you?" she said as she was nursing the baby by the fire while Zainal sat in his big chair, watching the process as he idly stroked one chair-arm.

"I have what?"

"Planned Phase Three." He grinned at her. 'It is only logical to complete what Mitford started. To get the Farmers to notice us and come to see what we have done to their world. That Eosi came is very good. We upset their plans, and that has needed doing for many generations." "Don't tell me other Catteni have wanted to do away with the Eosi?" That surprised her.

"It has been talked of, privately,' he admitted, and the stroking turned to a drumming of his fingers. 'I was on Barevi to speak to . .

. a group about a plan." 'You were? And I ruined all that for you?" Kris flushed with chagrin. 'Did you mention that to Chuck? Or anyone?"

Zainal shrugged. 'No reason, until now."

"Is that why you wanted to be able to leave the planet?" 'I am thinking that to have a base for those who resist the Eosi would be a very good thing."

"More Catteni here?" Kris could think of several hundred

people who would object to that. Or maybe they wouldn't, now that it was pretty well established in people's heads that it was the Eosi who were masterminding Catteni activities. The problem with that was that so many Catteni enjoyed far too much what they did to subject races.

"That would cause trouble if it was known,' Zainal agreed, instantly following her thought. 'There is that desert continent.

No-one goes there." That's true. And if folks didn't know there were Catteni . . .

but you can't keep something like this from the brass-heads, Zainal. They trust you now, they wouldn't . . ." 'Do not worry. I respect their trust. I will tell them if I think I can do what I wish now to do. I would need much assistance from Beverly, Scott, Easley, Yowell, Bert, Raisha. We must rescue more from Earth, too." 'The transport ship?" She startled Zane and had to comfort him.

Zainal nodded. 'On board the KDL is much we would need.

The star maps, the codes . . ."

"Wouldn't the Eosi change codes? Just in case you get loose?"

Zainal shook his head, his yellow eyes dancing in the firelight.

"Drassi learn too slowly to do that quickly."

"So you must move more quickly, and soon. Is that right?"

He nodded. And her heart pounded in fear for him.

"You're planning to infiltrate Earth?" He gave his head a quick shake. "Barevi is safer for me. Many coming and going, and we can find out much information from new prisoners. And "transport" those we need." "You, Emassi Zainal, can just walk in and demand the worst of the prisoners, and they'll be handed over to you?" Anxiety made her sarcastic. 'You with a crew of . . ." 'Desk) and Rugarians, and friends hidden from Emassi and Drassi eyes."

"I didn't know Deski and Rugarians crowed for Catteni."

"They will not be the entire crew, only the ones most seen,' said Zainal. Then he rose, in a smooth graceful movement for such a big-boned man, and began to pace. 'We are not transport ship.

We are from mines at K'daskt Nik Sot Fil,'he said as he paced.

"We need certain workers, strong, with perhaps some mechanical experience. We get what we need - and certain things Botany needs . . ."

"And no-one will be the wiser?"

"The grey skin stuff? How long will it last on a man's face?" 'I don't know,' she said, though she was beginning to see just how he would be able to cope, 'but you can take as much as you need with you." She ran over in her mind those who had been fake Catteni when the KDL was captured. 'But won't the Eosi be watching everything? What if they've already seen the scout getting in and out?" Zainal chuckled, pausing by her chair to stroke her cheek and looking down at the hungry baby.

"I hope that they have."

"Yes, but you can't meet them sneaking out the back door, can you?" 'Bert Put goes up and takes a quick look to see if . . . the shore is clear?" He lifted his eyebrows in query.

"Coast is clear . . ."

"Good, and I take Catteni speakers, too." Now he started pacing again, rubbing his hands together as he thought out loud.

"Have you forgotten all Barevi?" he asked in that language.

Startled, she replied in the Barevi affirmative. Could she go with him? Did she want to go with him? She certainly didn't want to stay behind. But Zane?

"Chuck would be useful,' she added. 'And Jay Greene . . ."

He had paused by her and looked down at Zane who had nursed himself to sleep. 'I need you, too." She almost burst into tears, her heart so full of love for both.

her responsibilities pulling her in two directions at once.

"Sandy has more milk than a cow,' she said, not daring to look at Zainal just then. She added more briskly, 'And this is the sort of situation we set up the creche system for, isn't it?" She heard Zainal tap out call numbers. 'Chuck? Are you free to talk over an idea this evening?"

* * *

Chuck Mitford immediately said they had to talk this over with the brass-heads.

"Only a few of them, at that,' he added, grinning and rubbing his hands together because Zainal had included him as the crew foreman.

Chuck hadn't even taken that as a slur, because he was indeed the build and height of many Catteni. Handsomer than most, however, as Kris could not resist saying.

Scott had to be consulted - especially as Chuck wanted him to play Catteni, too. John Beverly, Gino Marrucci, Ninety Doyle, Dowdall; Matt Su for his electronics knowledge; Yuri Palit and several others who had been in the original commando group because they had some knowledge of Catteni.

"I don't see why we can't go straight to Earth,' was Scott's first objection.

"I do not have codes for Earth . . . KDL is Barevi-based. I figure that we speak with latest transports from Earth . . ." 'What about stealing another ship with the right codes?" Marrucci wanted to know, flexing his fingers as if already settled in a cockpit and about to take off. 'I sure would love to get back to good ol' Terra Firma!' Zainal grinned. 'That is also a possibility. If one just happens to be ready to fly."

"You can't leave the crew around . . ." Scott began.

"There are other valleys here,' Zainal said. 'The KDL can get in and out of Barevi without difficulty. That is important. I know I can get supplies that we need with no problem."

"We get to make a wish list?" Rastancil asked, brightening.

"No, a "need" list." 'Medical supplies?" Chuck asked hopefully, taking his pad and pencil stub from his pocket.

"If we can find any,' Zainal replied, reminding Mitford that Catteni medicine was rudimentary at best. 'Good steel we can get,' he added, knowing that the fabricators needed better materials to form proper surgical instruments.

Chuck wrote 'steel' and underscored it.

"This time, can we have clean Catteni uniforms to wear?" Yuri Palit asked, wrinkling his nose.

Zainal shook his head. 'You must smell like Catteni, too, and you don't." Yuri made a grimace and sighed. 'Wear what you have on voyage, then change at Barevi,' Zainal added with a grin. 'Now,' and he took out the sheets of the Barevi Spaceport and its environs which he had worked on, to show Chuck. 'We must know where to go, and you must learn what to answer to questions. If you walk fast as if you know where you're going, that you are taking a message, no-one will question. So you must knower!" They readily agreed to that but, along with the language lessons, came questions, especially from those who had not been enslaved on Barevi and were unfamiliar with it. That was where Kris came in, because she had flitted all over the city with her owner.

"Can't we just steal flitters and not walk everywhere?" Dowdall asked.

"You may rent flitters,' Zainal corrected him. 'We must fit in or be noticed. If we fit in right, we can come back again." 'Hey, I like that,' Ninety Doyle said, grinning. 'There're a couple of Tudos . . ." Zainal pointed his pencil at Ninety. 'You will be good Tudo and follow your Drassi's orders." 'Yeah, sure, boss, gotcha, boss Drassi,' Ninety said goodnaturedly, tugging at an imaginary cap and nodding agreement.

"Chuck, can you remember the exact layout of where slaves were held?" 'Can do, have done,' and Chuck took out a sheet on which he had earlier drawn an outline. 'We better learn some Catteni symbols, too, you know . . . to follow hall markings . . ." Preparations took ten days, with long learning sessions for those who were chosen to take part. The selection was restricted to those whose physical appearance was closest to Catteni, who had already had some knowledge of the language and some experience with Barevi. Scott, Marrucci and Yuri did not, but they could be paired with those who did like Chuck, Ninety Doyle, Dowdall and Matt Su. Coo, Slav and Pess were a bit nervous about going, but they would be required to contact their own ethnic groups for what news they had. Kris was an essential addition for her knowledge of the city and familiarity with the flitters. The legs of one Catteni uniform had to be lengthened to fit her but, with her hair skinned back with the grey mud that would disguise Terran locks and the grey powder make-up, she passed well enough. She also knew enough Catten and the Barevian lingua to hire flitters and bargain properly.

Someone not bargaining with Barevian shopkeepers would immediately be suspect. On both the KDL and the scout, enough Catteni script and coin were found. Zainal then told them that the habit was for ships to charge to their number, and the charges would be sent back to a central bank to make payments.

"And we'll be long gone before the reckoning,' Doyle chuckled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"What happens, Zainal,' John Beverly asked one morning during the planning sessions, 'if someone recognizes you?" All at the table - and Sandy Areson was sitting in that morning to explain about the grey 'make-up'- turned towards him.

"I am dead,' Zainal said, shrugging off that consideration.

"No-one will expect to see me, especially in Drassi uniform,' he added.

Sandy tilted her head and then, rising and reaching across the table, turned him by the chin from one profile to the other.

"No problem,' she said. 'We add cheek pads so he looks fatter, another in front and some lines down his face to make him look older and his own mother wouldn't recognize him."

"What is this? Pads?" Zainal asked, somewhat dismayed.

"I used to do make-up for our theatre group, Zainal. Trust me.

You won't recognize yourself. I'll bring some over to the cabin and show you,' and when she saw other sceptical expressions Sandy added, "You won't know him either. Trust me." When she demonstrated to Kris and Zainal later that evening, it was remarkable the change those few alterations made.

"I'd slump were I you,' Sandy remarked. 'Drassi are small men and don't walk proud like an Emassi, you know." Zainal grinned as he thanked her, a grin that was substantially altered from his normal one with the pads in place.

"Take them out,' Kris said when Sandy had left. 'I'm not sharing this cabin with a total stranger. A very unattractive total stranger, I might add." And she gave a shudder of dismay until he had removed the pads and looked himself again.

The arrival of the Ix Mentat and its two juniors at the Catteni main Earth spaceport in Texas, near what had been Houston, caused major security problems. Its reason for coming caused consternation, since the military governor was somehow sure that he would be forced to honourably end his life because he had not been able to reduce the rebellion of the indigenous population, despite the severe measures he employed. He had scrupulously followed orders sent to him by the Mentats on Catten, but seemed no further towards solving the tides of revolt and producing the wealth available from the planet than he had been in the first months of occupation.

When High Emassi Bulent learned the sort of equipment the Mentats had brought with them, he turned ashen, until he also heard that the mind-probes were to be used on humans, not ineffective Emassis.

Therefore he listened intently to the Ix Mentat's wishes, organized the search and rounded up as many of the required subjects as could be found. Some could be proven dead; others might well have been already transported, since they had resided in the fifty cities originally depopulated in the first wave of Catteni suppressions.

Bulent could almost feel sorry for the men and women rounded up and crammed into the open slave-pens, for the summer heat was intense, though he himself revelled in such temperatures. There were casualties from the heat and the crowding. He had the unenviable task of explaining to the Ix Mentat that humans could not endure the solar rays that Catteni hides could, particularly humans in this upper age group as were most of the new prisoners. So they were moved to a huge shed that had been cleared of its exhibits.

Bulent's staff then had to assign numbers to the types of specialists the Ix wished to interrogate in order of rank within the science the humans had practiced.

The Ix, Co and Se made trial examinations on lesser-known individuals with varying results. After four deaths with little information retrieved from the bursting brains, the instrument had to be re-calibrated. It had originally been used to upgrade Catteni mentality by expanding cerebral and cortical areas and stimulating certain centres in both lobes. The result had been the intelligent Emassi subset of Catteni who had originally been primitive and little more than upright animals. But what could be enhanced could also be withdrawn; that was the purpose of using the equipment on the humans.

The actual examination could take up to half a day, if the initial information plucked from the more accessible areas of the mind looked interesting. That is, if the subject was worth treating carefully. Otherwise an hour's viewing would suffice, but the subject rarely recovered much personality and memory.

Incontinence was a frequent problem, and some retained insufficient intelligence to feed themselves. These were quietly disposed of.

In more judicious use of the mind probe, the Ix and its juniors gained the codes to private files in research laboratories, but much of the material dealt only with human concerns. The Mentats found top security codes but they weren't interested in the politics, finding them very commonplace and predictable in the extreme; though there were one or two ploys that the Ix might use if the need arose.

Among its victims were the remaining heads of state who had not met with either transportation or execution, revealing the names of more important officials whose brains were full of sometimes amusing if petty details. Some investigations were more fruitful, leading the Mentats to find out what particular scientific studies were in progress and where. This was what the Ix had been searching for and it gave the High Emassi a instant.

The High Emassi Bulent sent his minions scurrying to find these people. Often they returned empty-handed, with stories that the named persons had died or had possibly been transported, but certainly could not be found. Several of these, the Ix decided, must be found unless proof of death could be established beyond doubt. So Bulent despatched his best people, including several of the renegade humans, with instructions and promises of titillating rewards for success, to make a thorough sweep of known hiding-places and refuges.

The Ix exhausted all avenues to discover what little the humans had learned about the galaxy, the universe, and their incredibly primitive methods of star travel, as well as theories that, over its millenium of existence, it had already investigated, implemented or discarded.

The resultant human chaff that remained alive after these sessions was loaded on transports and sent to Batevi, to be sold as slaves for whatever use could be found for the near-mindless.

Then the Ix closed itself in its vessel and began to sift carefully through all it had learned, in the hope that perhaps there might be even one theory that would spark its high mentality towards a viable line of research.

On the off-chance that they could hijack another ship, Bert Put and Balenquah would come along as auxiliary pilots. It fell to Raisha, then, to pilot the scout to the Balloon and see if the coast was clear.

Beverly and Marrucci had plotted the next five windows available that would avoid the orbital satellite, so it only remained to check on the absence of any Catteni ships in the general area.

Kris found it both hard and easy to leave Zane in Sandy's charge.

She had been able to partially wean him, and he was already eating pureed foods. But Sandy promised that she would not stint him, and Kris could trust her. Pete Easley put in an appearance when she brought Zane to the creche, feeling treacherous and unnatural because part of her was dying to go on this adventure and the other part would miss her darling son terribly.

"He's a good size, isn't he?" Pete remarked to no-one in particular as Kris started to hand him over to Sandy. He was awake and in one of his giggling moods, the kind that are hard to ignore. 'Here, give him to me,' he said and gave Kris no chance to refuse.

Being the adaptable personality he was, Zane had no problems with being passed around and gurgled up at Pete Easley as happily as he would have done at Zainal.

Kris, watching the transfer, suddenly realized that Pete was telling her he intended to watch out for his natural son during her absence. His proprietorialness was both welcome and disturbing. But should the unthinkable happen, Kris knew that Pete Easley would assume responsibility for Zane - and, she had to admit, he had a right.

With a cheery wave at him and a farewell hug and kiss for Sandy, Kris left the creche, her conflicting emotions gradually easing as she focused all her attention on the Mission.

Raisha took off in the scout to test the space beyond the Balloon just as Zainal aimed the KDL at the 'back door'. She poked the prow through the obstacle long enough to get a reading that there was nothing immediately visible in space. Zainal eased the KDL through the Balloon just above the southern polar region.

He wasn't the only one to expel a gust of relief that the manoeuvre was unrestricted and the KDL allowed to exit. Then he aimed the ship towards the nearest of the five moons and, using that to hide his trajectory surveillance, made all speed to that point. Once there, he plotted the course out of the system and to Barevi's.

Even at the speed the KDL was capable of making, the Journey would take three weeks. So there was more time in which to perfect their Catteni roles, and automatically respond to orders and queries.

The meagre library of the KDL did contain spaceport plans for those planets under Catteni domination, and these were enlarged for study, especially by Bert and Balenquah if the chance of a second hijack was feasible. Scott was not yet committed to that objective.

"He wants a warship,' Mitford confided to Zainal and Kris.

"Fire-power." Zainal considered that. 'It might be possible to steal weapons, but even Catteni keep guards on warships. We don't have enough for crew. Maybe another time." Chuck and Kris gawked at him in surprise and he grinned back.

"Who was it said "think big"?"

"Dick Aarens?" Kris suggested.

There were also maps of Barevi which augmented the memories of those who had spent time in it - and how much a flitter should cost to such and such a destination. How to argue with cheaters, how to act if accosted for a fight . . .

"Catteni always fight,' Zainal said. 'Work off anger that way.

Avoid at all costs." 'Hey, it's easy enough to topple a Catteni,' Yuri said, proceeding to demonstrate a jujitsu manoeuvre on the unsuspecting Zainal. One moment the Emassi was on his feet, the next flat on his back on the deck, looking both surprised and annoyed.

When Yuri offered him a hand up, he ignored it, but he was smiling when he got back on his feet.

"Teach us!'

So jujitsu, karate and other forms of martial arts were included in the daily training sessions.

"It is better we do no . . ." and Zainal grinned, 'species' injuries."

"As if the Farmers would know or care,' scoffed Balenquah.

"We will know and we will care that harm has been done,' said Zainal, making his position plain to the surly pilot.

"You're a fine one to talk,' Sev Balenquah replied at his most contentious.

"I am finer than you know,' was Zainal's retort.

At this point Mitford, who was sitting next to the man, jabbed him so roughly in the ribs that he was winded.

"There's a brig on this ship,' Beverly said. 'D'you want to spend the rest of the trip in it?"

"Have it your way,' Balenquah said and, pushing away from the table, stalked off.

When Beverly would have called him back, Scott shook his head.

"We'd better watch that one,' Marrucci murmured to Beverly.

Both the general and Scott nodded. 'Can't figure out what's wrong with him. And he's even got to fly again." Everyone took turns in the galley, leaving the Catteni food stores alone since they were even worse in taste than the bars supplied to transported prisoners. The KDL had originally had three freezers: two medium-size and one large storage type that was now in the mess hall, while one of the mediums was in the hospital. But the remaining one was adequate for the journey since Zainal expected to restock perishable goods from the markets at Barevi. Surprisingly enough, the Catteni galley had the equivalent of a microwave heating device, so that the prepackaged soups, bread and meals that the mess hall had contributed to the Mission could be reheated.

By the time the first contact was made with Barevian planetary authority, they had each perfected their skills to the best of their abilities. Even Balenquah could spit out appropriate answers; despite his more glaring personality defects, he was a natural linguist and Zainal hoped to use him to accompany Kris on her buying missions.

"He glowers just like my old boss,' Kris said, 'typical nasty Tudo. Whoops, not Tudo, Foto,' she said, correcting herself.

She had known 'Foto' before she was aware of the distinction between Emassi and Drassi.

When hailed by the Barevian perimeter guards, Zainal, posing as Drassi Kubitai, barked the responses and Kris understood every word he said and every word the duty officer said. The KDL was officially the KDI, since the KDL would be listed as missing. There was no problem in the code.

"Sloppy,' Zainal muttered under his breath, thankful though he probably was that this was the case.

He elected to overfly the town to give everyone the aerial aspect of it and help orientate them, giving a description

of each area on his way to their appointed docking facility.

Matt Su was the putative navigator and Yuri the engineer.

They both had immediate work to do, checking in with the port authorities: Matt to handle the 'paper work' and show the log which Zainal had created for them, while Yuri organized refuelling, watering and the usual docking procedures. Zainal paced about the dock area to be sure they encountered no immediate difficulties, while the various teams disembarked for their assignments.

Coo and Slav went off first, pretending pathetic eagerness to be away from the Drassi, while Pess stayed on board with Matt, Bert and Beverly - the latter two not to be seen. Pess and Matt had basic Barevi and some Catteni, so they were the best ones to stay behind and prevent unauthorized entry. Ninety and Dowdall would see if there were any humarts in the slave markets. Zainal, Mitford and Scott would go into the centre of Barevi to have a meal and some drinks, and hear what there was in the way of gossip. Then, when Matt and Yuri had finished their details, Yuri and Marrucci would combine with Kris and Balenquah to get supplies in the market. Some could even be charged to the ship, so they could use what Catteni money they had for other things like the 'plursaw' additive the Deski needed.

The original shipment was running low and there were new Deski babies in need of it. Zainal had made up a shopping list for them to display, as most Tudo couldn't read or write more than their own names, and signed it 'Drassi Kubitai'. He also made her practice the glyph for 'Kubitai' in case she had to sign chits for orders.

Kris was scared to the nails on her toes in the heavy Catteni boots. They were a bit large for her, although that only made her plod in a more authentic Catteni gait. She'd probably get heel blisters in spite of fluff-padding the toes, but she marched as smartly as the others did out of their berth and onto the main dock staging area.

There were a few Catteni lounging about, watching Rugarians and Deski shift crates, load and unload material at other berths. The ship, berthed three places beyond the KDI, looked like another of her class, still so new she had

few meteor pock-marks or dinges on her hull, and all of her paint looked fresh.

Marrucci caught Kris in the ribs with his elbow, grinning at the ship as a possible hijackable victim. She grinned back and mouthed, "No way, Jose!" at him. He kept grinning.

They saw no Terrans at all once they were out of the main facility and looking about for flitters. Zainal had said there were always a few waiting for possible passengers. They approached the first, its driver a wizened old Catteni whose face was badly scarred.

Balenquah gave the orders, as sullen as a Catteni, and shoved everyone on board, his fingers lingering a little too long on Kris's hip as he did so, grumbling about wanting to get this duty over with. He squeezed himself next to Kris on the hard wide seat, his thigh pressing against hers in a way that made her want to prang him good. She could do nothing now but sit there and endure his attentions. Had the man no wits about him at all? Didn't he know she'd never let him get away with such nonsense? Wait till they got back to the KDL . . . no, KDI, she must keep that alteration firmly in mind. With the manoeuvres of the flitter in and out of traffic, Balenquah must be enjoying the ride, rubbing constantly against her leg. Marrucci caught her eyes once and gave her a look that meant he had not missed Balenquah's ploy.

Then they were over the open market area, their driver skilfully avoiding ascending arrogant flitters in the fashion that had always caused Kris near heart failure in her slave days. They got down safely enough, the driver grabbed the fare Balenquah offered and then flung his craft aloft, out of the way of incoming craft.

"Don't push me around, Balenquah,' Kris said in an undertone as they moved off.

"Who? Me?"

Marrucci prodded his back, telling him in Catteni to talk right, then asked Kris, also in the language, which direction to take.

"Here is food market for Deski additives. We buy enough they deliver."

"We buy plenty,' Marrucci said. 'Where?"

Kris had been looking around and spotted a crowd of Deski.

"There!" 'Deskis! Huh!" and Kris wasn't sure if Balenquah was acting m character or just being his charming self.

On their way, they passed a booth selling the alcoholic beverages only Catteni could stomach, but Balenquah insisted on stopping to sample one, saying he was thirsty.

"Not good,' Kris said, frowning because that was the best way to prove to Balenquah that he should try one. All were swill, but let him find that out.

Laughing and jostling her, he pointed to the amber bottle and a large glass. Even the stall-owner looked surprised. Guffawing, Balenquah clapped Kris so hard on the back that she nearly lost her balance but, knowing what was to come, she stood,,firm and waited.

Balenquah was even stupid enough to try to knock back the entire portion; he should have watched another Catteni, who was sipping cautiously. As the raw liquid began to burn down his throat, his eyes bulged and his greyed skin turned red enough to startle her, but somehow he got most of it down.

"Told you not good,' Kris said, deepening her voice. 'Better over there!" And she pointed to the corner where her master used to take a drink on market days. She left Balenquah to recover from the pilth - ah, she remembered the name of that particular poison - and strode on towards the Deski. She was also keeping on the alert for any bands of Catteni, swaggering around the market area just looking for trouble. Marrucci waited with Balenquah while Yuri moved out in step beside her.

"Good on you,' he muttered in English and she elbowed him.

"Agreed,' he added in Catteni.

They could both hear Balenquah hawking and spitting behind them, and gasping as his system tried to cope with the Catteni equivalent of anti-freeze. It certainly smelled like it. The pilth had also affected Balenquah's vocal cords, and he was reduced to gargling unintelligible words when he and Marrucci joined them at the Deski plursaw stall, for that was all this merchant sold. She argued over delivery charges, but then added more for an immediate delivery to the KDI. This was actually the most urgent of the supplies they were after. The next was salt: enough to use to preserve meats. Sugar was not a commodity known to the Catteni, so she was to get enough vinegar for pickling. These were easy, since she'd dealt with kitchen supplies and knew where to find them. At the same stall, she was astonished to discover what looked like rolls of cinnamon bark in a sack and a keg of nutmegs: the spicy scent of them was so familiar. She lifted a piece of curled brown bark high enough to her nose to be sure that it was indeed cinnamon - though what it was doing on Barevi was beyond her.

Then, in the gravelly voice she affected for Catteni words, she asked, 'What's this?" of the stall-keeper, dropping the bark curl indolently back into the bag and brushing her hand off on her uniform as any Catteni would.

She understood only half of what he said, catching that it was from Terra and used in cooking; she should try some. She pretended indecision until Marrucci tapped her shoulder and came to her rescue.

"Drassi Kubitai likes new things. Try it."

That's when they lucked out, because the two commodities were so unusual and suspect that the stall-keeper had been unable to shift any and was feeling he'd made a bad purchase.

So the bargaining began in earnest, but in the end she got the spices, the full keg and the sack, and had him throw in a large bag of peppercorns which he also hadn't been able to sell. Kris had no problem getting him to deliver to the KDI and could barely contain her delight in finding the seasonings; the mess hall would bless her for ever. She also got gallons of vinegar of a good quality.

In the next rectangle over, Kris found fabrics of all kinds, colours, patterns and materials, some of which she recognized as Terran manufacture which both pleased and upset her. The Catteni must be looting the Earth right, left and centre. She suppressed resentment and went about bidding for whole bolts, in different shades and weights, for children's clothes. The local weaving industry would suffice any females who wanted something to wear that wasn't made over from Catteni coveralls, but the kids' needs were different. Kris bought enough to make the shopkeeper ask if she was a trader.

"Drassi is,' she said as if she thoroughly disapproved, pointing with no real attention to what she was buying. The last shop also sold needles, and indifferently she threw a handful of packets on the counter and made the shop-owner scrawl a receipt for her.

"Drassi requires." Which was all she needed to say. 'Deliver by sundown and will get extra,' she said, winking as she had seen her steward master do from time to time.

Then she looked around for her shipmates and found them near a fruit-seller's stall as Balenquah tried to restore his throat lining.

"I told you no good,' she said and took a goru peafrom the display pile. She turned her head slightly so the stall-keeper would not see that she did not have Catteni-size teeth as she tore off the tough peel as any good Catteni soldier would do and spat it out on the street. One thing for sure, she never thought she'd be eating these lovely winey fruits again. My, she'd come a long distance from that forest. She pointed to a net of the pears, asking the price.

"Four,' she said and then began haggling for a discount, just like in the old days. She got them at a good price - enough for everyone to enjoy on the way back to Botany - and tied the nets together and slung them over one shoulder. Yuri and Marrucci were watching her. "Tell you later,' she said in Catten. 'This way." They went through another arcade, doors open to display the wares of the more permanently sited merchants, to where she thought she'd find ironmongery. The mess hall had also asked for some big stewing pots and cooking sheets. That sort of thing would be there and, sure enough, she acquired five cauldronsized kettles and some huge baking tins. She also saw other items that were definitely Terran in origin, like the fabrics. If there was so much looting on Terra going on, maybe they'd be lucky enough to find medical equipment; Leon Dane had patiently r T drawn out the tools he especially needed. If she did, they'd basically filled today's list, and she wanted to be out of the market area soon. Once the guard changed, there'd be all kinds of gangs of them off-duty, drinking and looking for trouble: any trouble.

So she wanted to get away from the area before the guards arrived.

Knives of the fine size and shapes Leon Dane had wanted were indeed available in one of the arcade stores, but at a price higher than Zainal had estimated. She bought what they had funds for bundles of scalpels, lancers and the retractors, small-headed hammers and surgical saws. It looked from the display as if Earth hospitals had been thoroughly looted. Still, she bargained so hard that the trader wanted to know why she needed such Terran things.

"Terran? What's that?" and she pretended to try to find the name on the scalpel's handle.

"Where you been?"

"There and back,' she said with an indifferent shrug.

"Make it fast,' Marrucci said in an irritable tone and jerked his head over his shoulder at a gang of Catteni entering the rectangle at the far end, six abreast and brushing past everyone and everything in their way.

"Pack them. We have other business today,' she said and managed enough saliva to spit into the gutter with. Turning her head, she was able then to gauge the speed at which the gang moved. 'Get Bal to a flitter,' she told Marrucci. 'Yuri stays." She didn't trust Balenquah if those Catteni muscled him out of the way.

"What takes you so long, Foto?" she snapped at the storekeeper who was making quite a job of packing the tools, but then the blades were very sharp.

Marrucci did get Balenquah out of the way: thanks to the pilth, he was in no condition to argue much. Kris had just got her hands on the packet from the shopkeeper when Yuri was bowled into her, knocking her into the shop-keeper's cabinet, causing half his stock to tumble about and several pieces - since the cabinet was open on his side - to stick into him. He was howling with pain and rage as he plucked sharp objects from his thighs.

Yuri reacted, ducking under the first swing of a squat Catteni guard and then kicking out at the assailant's knee-caps with a double strike that had the guard howling with pain and dropping to the ground.

The shop-keeper shouted for help and grabbed at Kris, almost tearing the precious package from her hand; but she twisted her arm down and up and freed herself.

When he came round the cabinet, bleeding from the cuts, she got him square in the guts with a karate kick, thrusting him backwards and into another glass-fronted cabinet. She heard him scream as a shard of glass penetrated his backside, but she didn't stop.

"Out of here,' she yelled in good Catteni, fright thickening her voice as she grabbed at Yuri's uniform just as he flipped another Catteni to his back.

Several of his mates, reacting to his groans and curses, started after them, but Catteni are not good runners and Yuri and Kris had very good reasons to run as fast as they could. They nearly ran over Marrucci who had come back for them, and so they all made tracks to the flitter where Balenquah slumped, victim of the pilth.

However, the state of him - or rather the smell that emanated from him - added to the bruised goru pears that had split open in the nets Kris had been carrying over her shoulder - made the flitter-driver waste no time in getting them back to the dock.

When they arrived, the merchandise had too, with Pess, a cloth bolt in each arm, dealing with the loading.

"Did the plursaw come?" Kris asked, racing up the extruded gangway.

Pess grinned and nodded, speaking Barevi. 'First thing. See me, ask questions. I say Drassi orders. Don't know what he orders." Well, she could hope no-one heard her speak in English.

Marrucci and Yuri were angling the unconscious Balenquah out of the flitter as she went back to pay the driver.

'We the first?" she asked Pess as she helped him stow the cloth away, making sure that the needles had been included.

Pess nodded. 'What's wrong with pilot?"

"He drank Filth,' she replied, then grinned as she added, 'I told him it was no good." Pess smiled broadly and she managed to look away from that yawning cavern of greenish gum without giving him offence.

Beverly and Bert Put came out of hiding and, though they seemed somewhat distracted, listened to their adventures, chuckling over Balenquah's mishap. They approved her purchases, especially the spices, salt, vinegar and pepper.

"We had to quit because there was a roving band of Catteni looking for trouble,' Yuri said. 'We'll go for the electronics tomorrow,' he added, looking at Kris for confirmation.

Kris shared out the goru pears and explained how this particular fruit had figured heavily in her first trip to Barevi. They all agreed that the fruit was very tasty indeed.

"We can keep the pips and start our own bushes back on Botany,' she said, and was looking for something to store them in as she asked if there was any word from the other parties.

"Zainal reported in when he and Mitford reached the restaurant.

So did Coo and Slav,' Beverly told them. 'But they had upsetting news."

"How upsetting?"

Beverly and Bert exchanged anxious glances.

"It's not going to get any better waiting,' Kris reminded them, but a sick feeling started in her stomach.

"There are large numbers of Terrans here now, waiting to be shipped out."

A pause.

"What's new in that?" she asked.

"Coo says they're damaged,' and Beverly tapped his skull.

"They sit or stand and do not speak."

"WHAT?"

She, Yuri and Gino reacted simultaneously and stared in horrified consternation at Beverly.

"Coo says he heard their minds were taken from them."

"The Eosi have mind-wipes?" she whispered, appalled.

"Does Zainal know?" Marrucci asked, equally shocked.

"Coo says everyone talks about it - quietly. Even the Catteni.

Zainal will also hear." Marrucci swore inventively and without repeating himself.

Yuri looked pale under his grey face-paint; it was cracking around the natural creases of his face and, absently, she reminded herself to tell him to powder up before he went outside again.

"Zainal won't do anything drastic until he can check with you, will he?" Kris asked Beverly. 'WHAT do the Eosi intend to get out of minds? They wouldn't know about us."

"Coo said they are older men mostly, some women . . .

"Scientists, I bet,' Kris said and Beverly nodded sadly. 'Oh God, what did we start?" Beverly covered her hand with a reassuring grip. 'We started a rebellion, Kris, as we wanted to on Earth and couldn't. But Zainal knew how and has." 'But the cost!" She gripped her hands together, holding in the pain of guilt.

"When was there ever a war without casualties?" Yuri said in a bleak voice, absently doodling with the water spill on the table until it was spread out in a Rorschach blob.

"What about Ninety and Dowdall?"

"They say the pens are full of humans. They also heard about the zombies,' Beverly said. 'They're on their way back, too, before the guard changes." 'Dowdall remembered that, did he?" Kris said, nodding with satisfaction.

Zainal, Scott and Mitford returned in a silence that spoke more profoundly of the tragedy than words. The first thing Zainal did was remove the cheek and chin pads that disguised him.

"We managed to get into one compound,' Scott said, slumping in a chair and taking the glass of hooch that Kris immediately poured for all three. 'I recognized a few faces from articles and

newspapers. You'd probably recognize more, John, Gino. The ones I could identify were top people in quantum physics, organ transplants and laser applications."

"Lasers can be used as weapons,' Kris murmured.

"Eosi have such already,' Zainal replied, also speaking in a low voice.

"Will they . . . recover?" Kris asked.

Zainal shook his head but added, 'It depends how long they were subjected to the probe. The Eosi have little pity." 'Other news is good, though,' Scott said, shaking off that dispiriting vision. "Earth continues to rebel, and Catteni are looting on a massive scale." "I wondered about that,' Kris said. 'I bought nutmeg, cinnamon, pepper, salt, bolts of Earth-made fabric and needles, surgical equipment: no doubt part of that loot. I hadn't enough money with me to buy everything Leon said he needed. Do we have more to spend?" she asked Zainal, who nodded.

"No electronics?" Scott asked, perturbed. 'We need them more than surgical tools." 'If the Catteni have looted as thoroughly as it looks like they have, we'll find all the Terran electronics we could possibly want. But we encountered an off-duty squad,' Kris said and Zainal grunted. 'And left." 'We did, too,' Dowdall said. "The spaceport's full. We were lucky to get a berth."

"Any damage?" Zainal asked.

"Not to us,' Kris grinned. So did Dowdall.

"Where's Balenquah?" Scott asked, looking around.

"Sleeping off a full glass of pilth,' Kris replied, grinning maliciously.

Zainal roared with laughter.

"I told him it was no good,' Kris said, still grinning as Yuri and Marrucci chuckled.

"Serves him right, too,' said Marrucci, but Kris gave him a look and he didn't elaborate.

"Did you get the Deski plursaw?" Zainal asked.

She nodded. 'At a good price, too. I got as much delivered as I could; Pess has most of it already stored away. "Drassi says",' and she grinned at him for the efficacy of that cryptic explanation.

Coo and Slav returned then, Slav with a cut over one eye and Coo with visible abrasions down one side of his slender frame.

"Trouble?" Zainal asked, on his feet.

Coo held up one hand reassuringly. 'Catteni gang. Hate aliens." 'They hate anyone,' Dowdall said forcefully. 'Here, femme fix that cut for you, Slav,' and he took him over to the cabinet containing the few medical supplies they had. Slav endured the ministrations though the brown Catteni antiseptic stung like fire, even a Catteni.

"Bad news,' Coo said, joining the others at the table.

Mitford fixed herbal tea when Coo politely refused.to drink the hooch already set out.

"They're after your people, too?" Scott asked.

Coo shook his head. 'We do not make machines." 'My people must work in noisy places,' Slav said, scrubbing his chest hair in agitation. 'We are strong." 'You Earth no good working,' Coo said, grinning. "Too much trouble." 'We make trouble,' Slav said, 'if word is given." And he looked pointedly at Mitford.

"All suppressed minorities rebelling at one time would be difficult for the Eosi to handle,' Scott said, immediately savouring the notion.

Zainal, however, snorted and shook his head.

Scott slammed one fist onto the table so hard that the hooch bottle jiggled. 'Damn it, Zainal, there're already species' injuries on my people. You saw the state of them. How many more will be put through the same torture? Then sold off as mindless zombies and die who knows where!" Kris had never seen Scott so emotional but then, she could only imagine the horror of seeing brilliant people reduced to imbeciles.

"The Eosi look for ideas from your people,' Zainal said, and there was no doubt from the perturbation on his usually inscrutable face that he felt for the victims and agreed with Scott.

"When they find none they can use, they will stop." 'When . . ." demanded Scott, stretching the in' out to stress the urgency, 'will that be?" 'I heard nothing today. Tomorrow we can go elsewhere and listen, and maybe ask." 'And all those . . . those desecrated people?" Scott asked, grieving so keenly that Kris saw tears in the admiral's eyes.

"We can do something about that,' Zainal said firmly. Then he turned to Kris and Marrucci. 'Tomorrow, early, get the wire the plastic, the electronic supplies needed. Be ready to move if I arrange . . ." 'What are you arranging?" Mitford asked, though the look on his face suggested to Kris that he already had a suspicion.

"What can be done to help. The Farmers do not like,' and Zainal emphasized that word, 'species' injuries. We show them what can happen." 'We'll bring them back with us?" Scott began, his expression brightening for a scant second before common sense overruled that possibility. 'How can we possibly care for so many damaged people?" 'We will somehow." Kris spoke so fiercely that Scott recoiled.

"How many are there?"

"Hundreds,' Scott said, waving a despairing hand about.

"Not all are damaged,' said Zainal. 'But they will die in mines and fields with no care given." 'We can't leave them if we can take them,' Dowdall said firmly, glancing around the table for agreement.

Even the two Deski and Slav were in accord.

"Zainal, did you notice the other ship of this class a few berths down from us?" Marrucci asked, his eyes sparkling.

Bert Put, who had been silent through most of the discussion, sat up with an expectant look on his face, watching Zainal.

He nodded, a grin turning his mouth up in one corner. 'I maybe go see guard tonight, drink a little Filth." 'No,' Mitford said with an evil grin, 'he'd be used to that. Take some of the hooch." The next morning as they breakfasted, Zainal had good news from his evening's interview. Most of the KDM's crew were on shore leave, having just completed a wide swing which had included Earth. In fact, they had brought two decks full of the brain-wiped humans to the slave marts, and loot that would soon be available in the Barevi markets. Only two crewmen were on board, taking turns on watch; they were not happy about that duty but expected to be relieved in another two days. As was standard practice with Catteni ships, the KDM was already refuelled and stocked. The crewmen said they were slated for another trip to Earth: to collect cargo, as the Catteni invaders were systematically clearing warehouses and storage facilities, whether the items were useful or not.

"Whatever the Eosi hope to find on Earth, they have not,' Zainal said. 'Not even information. They may even be pulling out."

"What?"

"Leaving Earth?"

"Hurrah, we socked it to them and they couldn't take it."

"No rush,' Zainal said, raising his hands to indicate caution.

"Your Earth may never be the same." 'Then we improve it when we get back home,' Beverly said, a fierce expression on his face.

Zainal pointedly said nothing. 'I also learn that the port manager is very busy with so many ships going in and out." 'Which means he's not checking on individual ones?" Beverly asked.

Zainal nodded. 'We come at a lucky time."

"Let's leave lucky, too,' Mitford said gruffly. 'If we get all the stuff we need, can we like leave tonight? I got a gut feeling we're crowding what luck we've already had. On our way back, I spotted just too many of those roving gangs charging about drunk. Glad we weren't on foot."

Everyone looked at Zainal, who hesitated and then nodded.

"Sooner is better than later, but first,' and he held up one finger 'we do not go back empty." 'Hey, if there's only two crewmen aboard the KDM, couldn't we hijack it?" asked Gino eagerly.

Mitford made a disgusted sound, dismissing the notion, but Scott leaned forward eagerly. 'Could we?" 'I think it would be very easy.

Gino can be captain Balenquah . . ." and Zainal looked around for the man.

"He was sick all night,' Mitford said sourly. 'He's no use to us at all. I never did have more than a sip of pilth'and that was enough to make me avoid it." 'I told him it was no good,' Kris repeated, with an innocent expression on her face.

"Which made him all the more eager to try it, huh9' Mitford asked, giving her a dirty look.

"He deserved it . . ." Gino Marrucci began, but Kris kicked him under the table. 'Sullen bastard that he is,' the pilot said, in place of what he had started to say.

"All right,' said Scott, getting back to the jobs at hand, 'we find out what we can about the . . . disabled? Right?" He looked at Zainal, who nodded. 'You got yesterday's list, Kris? So today escort Matt Su, Ninety and Marrucci for whatever electronics we can acquire .

. ." 'We'll find plenty,' Kris said, scowling. 'I only had a quick glance, but everywhere I looked I could see things that had to have come from home." 'Good,' said Matt, 'that means we'll have a good chance of finding what we need. We've done as much as we can with the Farmers' material. But we could do a helluva lot more with familiar components, couldn't we, Dowdall?" 'Also get more hand-units,' and Zainal tapped his Catteni comunit. 'We need all we can get, or make." Kris shoved pencil and the thin plastic that the Catteni used for notes towards him. 'Make us out another shopping list, Drassi Kubitai!" Zainal grimaced. 'I do not know the Catteni shapes,' he admitted wryly.

"No word for spare parts in Catten?" Matt asked, grinning.

"Ah, yes,' and Zainal deftly created the glyph, adding tails and squiggles to it. 'That means anything to repair electronics." He peered at it. 'I think." 'Have we completely contaminated an upright Catteni lad?" Matt asked with one of his displays of whimsy.

"Absolutely,' Zainal agreed heartily. 'Let us make . . . con . . . con-something plans . . .

"Contingency plans?" Kris asked.

"Them. In case there can be two shipments of humans to mines or colonies or wherever they plan to send them. We are ready to go and take the problems with us,' Zainal said. 'I call in to Chuck, I tell him where to bring KDM. Then, sergeant, you will take more hooch to guard on duty. The other will be sleeping. You will know what to do.

Then Gino, Beverly, Coo, Pess and Slav get aboard as crew. Bert, Gino, be ready to bring the ships where I tell you." He flipped through the pile of maps and charts and found the one he wanted. 'Here are slave pens, but you must go round the city, not overfly." 'Don't we have to clear take-offwith the port authority?" Gino asked.

Zainal slapped his forehead and sucked in breath between his teeth.

"After we secure the KDM, I can come back and do that, Zainal,' Mitford said. 'Give me the words for slave compound in Catten. I only know Barevi." 'Use Barevi if you need to,' Zainal said, rocking one hand to indicate that the port authorities would know both. Then he rose in a decisive manner. 'Good luck." And he gave the thumbsup signal, grinning when his eyes fell on Kris.

"Right back atcha,' she said as everyone else got to their feet.

"And watch your face paint if you start to sweat, you guys. And, for godsake, remember to keep your caps down, shading your eyes. No Catteni I've ever seen has blue ones, much less brown." 'Slav, Pess, Coo, you guard ship,' was Zainal's final order as he made for the hatch.

* * *

Kris, with Dowdall, Matt and Ninety, got the last remaining flitter outside the port. The driver grumbled that the market wasn't open yet.

"Shop I go is,' Kris answered in Barevi. 'Drassi says so."

That ended any further enquiries from the Catteni. He had no left hand, a hook attachment replacing it, but a flitter was easily driven with only one. Did only disabled Catteni get taxi licences on Barevi?

As the craft made its way to the market area, they all noticed smoke rising from various places.

"Many fights?" Ninety asked in Barevi, grinning but remembering to keep his lips over his teeth.

"Many,' replied the Catteni in his own language and in a sour tone. 'Nine ship gangs. Biggest fights in weeks." Which meant the survivors would likely be sleeping off pilth as well as any injuries from the fighting - or hiding out for the requisite twenty-four hours.

Luck was again with them, she hoped, but didn't dare hope too loudly.

Much of the first market-place they overflew - the one they had shopped in the day before - was a wreck of tangled stalls debris, and shop-keepers sorting for what might still be saleable.

As they crossed over the line of apartments separating the two, she saw that streamers of fabric, probably from some of the shops she had visited, festooned the area.

"Boys had lots of fun,' Ninety muttered and got Kris's elbow in his ribs for speaking in English. He rolled his eyes in apology, but the driver had not heard.

There was not quite as much damage in the third rectangle, the one they had directed the flitter to - possibly because there were fewer drink and food stands in this one. But one section seemed to have been levelled. Kris just hoped it wasn't the very one they needed the most.

"Another ticco if you wait,' she told the driver in her gravelly Catteni voice. She was getting so she could do it whenever she needed to, though her throat was a trifle sore from all the roughvoiced bargaining she'd done yesterday.

"Just one ticco?" he complained.

"Wait and see,' she said, leaving it to him. She handed him a smaller coin and pointed to the stand selling hot drinks and the almost indigestible bread Catteni baked.

That sweetened him sufficiently and she walked off with the others to find the 'spare parts'.

Four shops which displayed boxes spilling loose chips in their grilled windows were not open. They came upon a fifth on the long end of the rectangular market area where the shop-keeper was sweeping up components, 'and', 'or' chips, with total disregard for the damage done. Matt and Dowdall winced and Kris hissed at them for falling out of character.

"You selling?" she asked, acting the stupid Catteni Tudo.

"What does it look like?" the shop-keeper replied angrily, gesturing at the havoc within and without. He ranted on, switching from Barevi to Catteni in his fury.

Kris held up Zainal's glyphed note. 'You got some?"

The shop-keeper paused long enough in his description of what he would do to the gang who had smashed and kicked his stock into garbage and, eyeing her suspiciously, then turned his attention to Matt and Dowdall who were lovingly picking up this and that which had not been damaged.

"Got everything needed for repair. And then some . . . if it hasn't all been smashed." He put down the broom and led them through the shop, palmed open a rear door and showed them unopened cardboard boxes, all bar-coded and listing the contents in English, French, German and either Japanese or Chinese . . . Kris couldn't tell the difference.

"Ah, many unhurt,' she cried. 'Drassi wants."

"All?" The shop-keeper was both delighted and suspicious.

"Drassi Kubitai trades,' said Dowdall, winking as he began removing boxes from the shelves and stacking them in the centre. His eyes were so alight with success that Kris yanked furiously at her own cap to warn him. 'Kubitai pleased with us,' he said in Barevi, turning his face away.

"Not all, but samples to show. How much?" Kris began, tapping the boxes Dowdall had chosen and to which Matt was adding selections, breathing heavily with excitement but remembering to keep his head down. "You deliver?" 'Ha! When I must clean this and lock up before they come back again?" 'Kubitai wants comunits, Drassi?" Matt asked, returning from a back shelf with a crate.

Kris pretended to look at the list. The shopkeeper pointed to the right glyph. 'Here, stupid,' he said, his yellow eyes turning crafty as he suspected he might be able to do her on the prices.

"I count well,' she said, jerking her cap to shade her eyes but looking fiercely at him. 'I be Drassi soon. You see." 'Ha!" was his reply, but he began to move the chosen boxes towards the front of the shop. 'You got transport?"

"Flitter,' she said. 'I call it over."

She had to fetch the flitter driver, who had indeed been treating himself to a meal on her coin. When he saw how much was stacked out in litter in front of the smashed shop, he shook his head.

"Call another,' she told him, pointing to his control panel.

"Drassi Kubitai very happy with us. We get long shore leave." She strutted back to the shop to find Dowdall, looking anxious.

"Won't he suspect when we order so much? And check out the KDI?" He spoke in a barely articulated whisper.

"He probably has and, if the port authority has time to answer him, will know which berth the KDI has,' she murmured back and then, seeing the shop-man out of the corner of her eye, punched Dowdall in the arm. 'Work! No work, no leave!" However, greed - and possibly the call to the dock to verify that a KDI with a Drassi Kubitai was in port - moved the shopkeeper to encourage the large order.

Kris bargained in earnest with him, as part of her character as not-so-stupid-Tudo messenger. She had no idea what the parts would have cost on Earth, but Matt was slightly agog at the range of the merchandise. There were even laptops still in their packing-cases.

Now what possible use would the Catteni have for such items? They couldn't even read the manuals, much less figure out what the icons meant. She'd had enough trouble with her 286 IBM clone at college. Noticing a dozen units along with all the other parts, plus tool-kits and several cases of floppies and she wouldn't have to explain why those were among her purchases. She only knew so much Catteni and Barevi.

Kris haggled, and finally made her mark on the collection of glyphs that spewed out of his electronic equipment. She also added the glyph for 'Kubitai' that Zainal had shown her, grateful for his forethought.

Then they all loaded the boxes into the flitters. Their driver had estimated the cargo space required and called in two, not one.

All the way across the city, Kris forced herself to cheerful thoughts, terrified that something might happen and they'd be caught by an army trap or port patrol or some other unexpected glitch. But they made it safely back to the berth, and started unloading. Mitford, Gino, Slav, Coo and Pess hurried out to speed the process along, Gino whistling under his breath at the range of their purchases.

"Catteni can't whistle,' Kris said inside the safety of the ship.

"Ooops!'

"Any word from Zainal?"

Gino shook his head, trotting back down the ramp, muttering unintelligible noises that could be muffled Catteni curses and adding, "Drassi says,' in a grumpy tone.

They had nearly finished the unloading when Balenquah staggered into the open hatch, his grey face-paint smeared with rivulets of sweat, his hair mud rubbed off overnight on the pillow, looking not at all like any Catteni.

Mitford recovered first. 'Sick! Get back! Dow, Nin, get him back!" The two hauled the pilot back out of the way and he had time for only one muffled protest before someone knocked him out. Mitford rolled his eyes at Kris, who was facing the stunned flitter drivers.

Taking her cue from Mitford's remark, she shook her head, feeling quite ill suddenly too.

"Very sick. Terran sick,' she said, still shaking her head and making her wobbly legs carry her back down the ramp. There were only a few more boxes to be stored.

"Dockmaster knows?" the one-handed Catteni asked, his murky yellow eyes suspicious.

"Dockmaster says keep him on board and take him back to Terra,' Mitford said, keeping his face away from the Catteni.

"Leave him there." 'Drassi say we leave today,' Kris added for good measure. 'I take shore leave back here! Told Bal no good there." She gave the drivers just enough to satisfy them, not too meagre a sum to annoy them yet not enough to be considered a possible bribe.

Mentally she blessed those awful shopping journeys with her Catten steward for knowing the difference.

With them safely off the dock area, she marched herself straight to the bottle of hooch and poured herself a stiff one.

Dowdall and Ninety joined her, silently taking the bottle from her hand.

"We tied him in,' Dowdall said, 'goddamn stinking arrogant bastard nearly blew the whistle on us!" 'He might still have,' Mitford said, holding out his hand for the bottle. 'I'm not sure the one-handed guy bought the explanation." 'Yeah, but why would he suspect Catteni-dressed soldiers to be anything but Catteni?" Kris said, reaching for reassurance.

"There is that,' Mitford agreed.

"Is it safe?" whispered Beverly and Bert Put from their compartment.

"For now,' Kris told them, sitting down because her legs had never felt so kneeless. She buried her head in her hands. 'I never want to go through another moment like that." An urgent buzz from the com board on the bridge startled all of them. Beverly and Mitford tried to get through the door at the same time, with the sergeant twisting his torso edgewise to allow the general through first.

"Schkelk?" Beverly asked in proper Tudo response as he keyed open the ship's unit. 'Oh, thank God,' and, craning her head towards the bridge, Kris could see him visibly relax. For just one moment . . .

then he straightened and urgently beckoned the others to come in.

"Yes, yes, I got you. What does forty-seven look like in Catteni, for God's sake? Oh." He had grabbed up a pad which Mitford now held firmly for him since he had the hand unit. 'Thick upright, two cross bars, three down strokes and a small right-hand square within the end two right-hand down strokes. Got that. That's for the KDI?" Beverly began to smile and heaved a sigh of relief that seemed to permeate his whole frame. 'Thank God,' he whispered. 'Okay, so there's just a change in the final figure, a circle rather than a square between the two right-hand down strokes? Got it. Be there as fast as we can get permission to quit the dock. Watch for us."

He toggled the line closed.

"Contingency plan is now in operation. Mitford, grab another bottle of hooch and go visiting. Gino, Coo, Slav, Pess, Ninety, lounge outside like you're bored. We're going to rescue us some folks. And God grant there's some spark of mind left to them.

We're clearing the prisons." 'I know how to work the levels,' Kris said and grabbed Ninety by the hand. 'I'd better show you. Let's hope they're the same as the wreck's." The controls were sited in the same place by the hatch, although they looked in far better working order.

"And will they be drugged and all?" Ninety asked anxiously.

"I hope so. They'll survive better if they are,' Kris said, deliberately not thinking about that process and the bodies that would shortly inhabit the four levels of shallow deck. 'Take a peek outside, Ninety, just in case we have unexpected visitors,' she said, shoving the comunit from her belt at him.

What now? That glitch she had been expecting all along that was going to betray them? She fretted, knees getting wobbly again.

"Sick?" Mitford exclaimed in Catteni, and swore with unexpected fluency in the language for emphasis. 'Yes, Terran sick." He sounded disgusted. 'We dump him with others. They not see,' and he managed a very evil chuckle. 'Kotik. Ten." He whistled when he closed the switch. 'That driver was suspicious. Let's get out of here before anyone comes to look at our Terran-sick soldier. Take her no higher than a thousand pleas, Bert. That's our assigned level." He gave Kris a good-luck sign and, grabbing another bottle of hooch, leaving only two left for the journey home, he sauntered back to the recently hijacked vessel.

Bert initiated the undocking procedures, starting thee siren to warn the crew back inside, closing the hatch when they reported all in, starting the engines, just as if he'd done it all his professional life. The KDI lifted easily, Bert made the course correction and they could see the spaceport steadily receding.

On the small thrusters that were permissible in such crowded air space, it seemed to take a long time to circumnavigate Barevi town, strewn before them, and out into the nearby forests and fields. They could see where big land-moving equipment was knocking down trees and scooping up great mountains of rock and dirt to clear more space doubtless, Kris thought bitterly, for the masses of products they were importing from a pillaged Earth.

Flitters darted in and around, and each one that seemed to choose a trajectory in front of Kris made her catch her breath.

"They can't see in,' Bert said, to reassure her. 'And I'll turn this seat over to you immediately if we are hailed. Wouldn't you like to drive this beauty for a while?" His banter made her relax, but she stayed right beside his position in case they had to execute a quick shift.

They did have a little trouble deciding which platform they should dock at, since there were only minor changes in the basic glyph that Zainal had given them. But as they cruised at the For a contingency plan, hastily organized and speedily executed, it went very well. But there were other Catteni around on the dockside now, shifting cargoes or watching the Rugarians do so. Bert Put's height would make him stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. So he got wrapped up in blankets and Dowdall and Slav carried him over to the KDM, grumbling about Drassis and their crazy tracings back and forth.

Then they returned to the KDI.

"Piece of cake,' said Mitford when he returned to the KDI.

"Front and centre, Bert, General. We're about to shift ass off this sinkhole."

"What about Zainal and Scott?" Ninety asked.

"We meet them at platform forty-seven and forty-nine when we pick up our passengers. Now I gotta log on to port authority and get clearance." While Bert settled into the captain's chair, Beverly took the engineer's place as Mitford made contact with the port authority.

Kris watched as his shoulders stiffened and he rolled his eyes.

slowest possible forward speed, everyone on the bridge identified the number at the same moment, and could even see the KDM's platform just beyond.

Below were the slave pens, similar to the ones Kris had been in when she'd been forced aboard the transport that had landed her on Botany so many months ago. There were acres of pens, spreading out from a huge rectangular building. However, not all the pens were full or in use. Only four. She couldn't see who inhabited the ones beyond platform forty-nine, and hoped she wouldn't ever know who or what they had had to abandon that day.

Bert neatly sidled into the platform, cut the engines and opened the hatch. Kris took her station at the controls and suddenly Zainal strode up the ramp, spitting out the disfiguring pads, muttering under his breath and snarling up at her but winking as he passed on his way to the bridge. Kris managed a very subservient 'Yes, Drassi,' and saw the first of the pathetic transporters.

She nearly burst into tears at the sight of the expressionless faces, the dead eyes, the automatic motion that no intelligence motivated. She did manage to alter the decks to the lowest one as the loading process began.

Half the time, she had all she could do to keep from bawling out loud, getting some relief by snarling at the Catteni who drove these poor wights up the ramps. Most had their blankets slung over their shoulders, and one hand held the packet of ration bars to their bodies, the other held the treacherous soup cup now emptied of its contents.

She told herself over and over that she was rescuing them: they'd soon be safe, they'd soon be cared for - and wondering how on earth they would manage all these walking dead at Botany where there was so much hope and life and a future.

She shifted blindly when the first level was filled. Several of those trudging like sheep up the ramp staggered and fell. It was all she could do to keep herself at the controls and not go to help them up, but that would have been out of character for the Catteni Tudo she was pretending to be. She was not going to cause a glitch; she was rescuing these people, she was doing all she could.

She shifted to the third level and then it was filled up. So was the air around her, with little sobs and cries for pity from those in the lower decks. The drugged soup couldn't put them out of their immediate misery - and hers - soon enough.

It was Zainal who carefully removed her hands from the controls when the ramp retracted and the hatch clanged shut.

He helped her back to the wardroom and poured her another shot of hooch.

"We're almost out of it,' she protested.

"You need it now, Kris,' he said. 'I hadn't realized what you were in for. I'd have done it myself . . ." 'No, no,' and she shook her head, 'not a Drassi captain." Then she put her head on the table and began to weep. 'They're all asleep now,' Zainal said, gathering her up in his arms and against his chest, stroking her hair.

"Zainal?" she cried, raising her tear-marked face. 'Did we get them all?" 'All we can cram on board. A few spare Deski, Rugarians, half a dozen Ilginish and some Turs for good measure." 'We need Ilginish and Turs so badly, don't we?" she quipped, trying to control her weeping.

Ninety and Beverly stood in the doorway. Zainal nodded at them to enter and both poured a hefty tot from the bottle.

"We don't have much left,' Kris said inanely.

"It's medicinal, my dear,' said Beverly, and she thought he looked awful under his coffee-coloured skin. 'Dowdall says the KDM's on a parallel course. There's incoming traffic, but we're cleared to leave the system and doing it with all possible speed." He let out a long sigh and knocked back the rest of the hooch.

"You're relieved, Bjornsen. I don't want to see you on deck for two full shifts." 'Aye, aye, sir,' she said, managing a weak smile and limp salute.

Zainal helped her to stand and guided her back to her compartment. He had to lift her up into the upper bunk but his hands, as he covered her with the rough Catteni issue blanket, were very gentle.

They answered several challenges over the next two weeks, until they got to the less trafficked area leading to the Botany system.

Most were more or less standard ship-talk, which Zainal handled on the bogus KDI and Mitford on the KDM.

They also talked about how they could integrate the people they had rescued into the Botany colony.

Kris found herself regarding Admiral Ray Scott with amazement: under all that naval braid and command training there was a man with unexpected compassion. And a high moral integrity. She wasn't the only one who kept reassuring him that there was no way those folks could have been allowed to depart on Catteni slave ships.

"Hell, Ray,' Beverly said the second evening, 'it isn't as if there are more of them than there are of us! So we'll need to hunt more often and plant a few more fields. If we have to, we'll form a creche situation for the ones who can do nothing for themselves.

We don't even know just how badly some of them were mindwiped.

There may be something there that some of our pysch people can revive.

For all that, maybe just being among humans again . . . begging your pardon, Zainal . . . and good food and attention will bring some around." 'Almost everyone's got some kind of house now. We can give them shelter, food and . . . a lot of caring,' Dowdall said, clearing his throat. He was another one who didn't let emotions overwhelm him.

"And we shall inform the Farmers,' Zainal said.

"You think they can perform some sort of psychic whammy and replace what got wiped?" Dowdall asked.

Zainal shrugged. 'It is possible since their science is so much better than ours. Why not such healing?" 'I think that's asking for too much of a miracle,' Ray Scott said, although the brief flare of hope in his eyes at the mere suggestion of a possible restoration was not lost on anyone at the table.

"We shall inform them,' Zainal repeated.

"Speaking for myself,' Kris said, 'they can't be any more trouble than a baby and we can handle one more in our house, can't we, Zainal?" He nodded. 'If he or she doesn't get too upset seeing a Catteni around." 'Well, I think,' Kris went on staunchly, 'it's important for everyone to know that there is at least one good Catteni in this universe!" They were nearing the heliopause when Zainal mentioned quite casually, Kris thought, it was just possible that they might have a little trouble getting the second ship through the Balloon.

"Why?" Kris asked. 'They're alike as two peas in a pod."

"There are two, and only one went out." 'The KDL was pregnant when she left. The KDM is her daughter,' Kris said, surprising herself with such a whimsy. The others around the wardroom table laughed politely.

"It is a problem,' said Beverly.

"Why?" Scott wanted to know. 'If we proceed slowly as we did getting out, just nudging past the Balloon."

Zainal was not convinced.

"Too bad we can't call downside and get Raisha up in the scout to poke a hole for us,' Bert said. 'We could go piggy-back, maybe,' he suggested, and then cancelled that notion with a whisk of his hand.

"Too risky."

Zainal agreed with a sceptical twist of one shoulder.

"Fine thing if we get these folks right up to the door and can't wedge 'em in,' said Dowdall.

"There has to be a way,' Scott said, looking at Zainal for inspiration.

"If there is, we find it,' the former Emassi said.

But it was obvious that everyone on board the KDL worried about it for the rest of the journey through the solar system to its third planet.

"Engines,' said Kris as she sat on the bridge watching their approach to Botany.

"What?" Scott demanded. He looked up from the final course plotting that would escape both the satellite and orbital observation.

"Would there be such a thing on board as a tractor beam?" she asked Zainal.

"A what?" He frowned, unable to find those words in his now very large vocabulary.

"Something to pull another ship along, a ship with no power."

"She's got it!" Scott said. 'Does the KDL have one?" It took a little time for Zainal to understand exactly what they meant, but when he did his grin was broad.

"Not a tractor beam but is possible to connect,' and he jammed both fists together. 'One ship hull is negative, the other positive.

Very easy to do. I tell Bert." They had not allowed themselves many inter-ship broadcasts on the off-chance that they might be overheard.

But now, so close to Botany, they could risk it. The orbital might pick up some of what was transmitted, but not enough to give any alert.

Not unless there were Eosi hiding behind the moons.

"Oh, he means magnetize the hull,' Bert said, catching on.

"Okay, give me the procedure." The light bump as the KDM magnetically sealed itself behind the KDL was felt by everyone. There was also a certain tingling in the air. The KDL would be pushed through the Balloon first, propelled by the KDM. All watched nervously as the Balloon's smooth skin got closer and closer and behind it, a luminous half-moon, was Botany. Bert had slowed to the barest possible forward motion while Zainal, in the fore, guided him. The nose of KDL prodded the Balloon, which gaped wide enough to admit the ship. All of the KDL was shortly inside the Balloon and they felt no resistance, nor sudden disconnection of the KDM.

"We did it!" crowed Bert on the open line. 'We did it! Now how do I separate us? Just kidding."

Then Rastancil opened a channel, demanding to know were

they all right? What was the other ship doing on his screen?

"What have you guys been up to?" 'Well, we needed it to complete our . . . rescue mission,' Scott said, suddenly dropping from the high of successfully penetrating the last obstacle to home. 'We couldn't just . . ." and his voice faltered then continued firmly, 'leave them there on Barevi."

"Rescued? Who? What?"

"You'll see,' Scott said almost angrily. 'Some of them are pretty bad. Have all the medics on hand and anyone else we've got with any nursing experience. Especially the psychiatrists.

We've some more Catteni prisoners to go to the valley. So have Raisha stand by to fly 'em out. Then we'll need another valley for a bunch of Turs we had to bring along, too. She ought to have guards with that lot in case any wake up prematurely." 'Medics?

Psychiatrists? What sort of casualties are they?" Rastancil sounded alarmed.

"You'll see soon enough,' Scott said in a terse voice, 'and we'll need a good nutritious soup or someting easy to eat."

He disconnected, a brooding expression on his face.

"It'll work out, Ray,' Kris said, laying a hand on his arm.

"You'll see." 'Botany can take on any challenge,' Dowdall added with the pride of a First Drop survivor.

When the two ships landed in the big field in front of the hangar, Rastancil had mobilized transport, medical staff and enough personnel to assist in unloading the sleepers. Jim Rastancil, Geoffrey Ainger, Bob Reidenbacker, Bull Fetterman - in fact all those who constituted the Council, waited patiently for Scott, Zainal and Mitford to descend from the KDM which landed slightly ahead of its sister ship.

"This should have been a unanimous decision by all Botanists,' Scott began, nervously finger-combing his hair back from his forehead and rubbing the back of his neck.

"It was sure as hell unanimous with all the Botanists there,' Beverly said firmly.

"Hell, yes,' Dowdall, Kris and Mitford added in unison.

"Who? What?" Rastancil asked, surprised to find Scott hesitant.

"The ones the Eosi mind-wiped,' Scott said flatly. 'They were about to be shipped off God-knows where as slaves." 'Jesus! Of course you had to bring them here,' said Rastancil.

"Leon, Mayock, front and centre and let's get them out of there,' and he charged up the ramp with the medical personnel.

Kris slipped ahead of him to her post at the deck controls.

"All right, now, let's do this efficiently,' she heard Bull Fetterman roaring. 'Move that big sled up, stretcher-bearers up front.

Someone get blankets ready as makeshift . . ." The cargo hold doors parted and, although several people choked over the rancid body smells that wafted out, they walked on it and stopped.

"God in heaven . . ." Rastancil whispered, staring at the human debris, crumpled in small heaps, though some had managed to lie flat before the drug overcame them.

"And I thought we had it bad,' Leon murmured, kneeling beside the first unconcious body, feeling the neck for a pulse, his eyes ranging around the deck.

Kris had turned on what lighting there was.

"Stretcher here,' Leon said, pointing to the man and then moving inward, to the next prone body. 'Mayock, we'd better do a triage."

And the operation began its final stage.

Sixteen hundred humans, fortunately not all of them mindwiped but many with abused bodies and minor injures, were disembarked from the two ships. And two hundred Deski, one hundred and fourteen Rugarians, ninety Ilginish and twelve Turs.

The Turs were left on a lower deck which confined them should they wake before Raisha returned from taking the Catteni to their new accommodations. The two crewmen from the KDM had been secured in its cheerless brig throughout the trip, seeing only Coo or Mitford in his Catteni role. They were told that their ship had been commandeered.

One of them protested such treatment every time food was brought: even protested the good food he was served because it wasn't what he was accustomed to. The other Catteni slept almost the entire time, rousing only long enough to take care of natural needs and eat. They were blindfolded before they left their cell so they would have little to add to what information the other captives might have.

With so many hands to help, Leon's triage team separated those who needed the most attention from those who needed only rest, good food and reassurance. By then, quite a few were regaining consciousness and could be offered water and soup, hastily brought from the dining hall.

Even without, formal orders, there was suddenly a carer with every victim in a response that certainly gladdened Kris's heart. Scott should have had more faith in the community's generosity. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen examples of it with every new Drop the Catteni made.

Some awakened and were utterly passive: their empty faces expressionless. They had to be helped to drink, though they could manage to swallow or eat once food was put to their lips.

Others woke, screaming or sobbing helplessly and that was nearly as heartbreaking even if it gave an indication that some vestige of the original personality might remain.

"Just keep talking to them, folks,' Leon called out. 'Let them hear English, see human faces around them. Feed 'em, but don't let them gorge." 'Who knows when they've had a decent meal,' Anna Bollinger muttered, trying to keep the bruised and battered woman beside her from gulping down the entire can of soup. 'Just sip it.

There'll be all you need." 'Gawd, it's like a disaster scene, an earthquake or something,' Joe Latore said, helping his male victim to his feet since the man was trying so desperately to stand.

"What'nthell are you doing, Zainal? Taking pictures of people right now."

"I show the Farmers what Eosi do to people. I show the

Farmers what humans do to help,' he said, bringing the taper in close to the vacant eyes of Joe's man.

Then Zainal turned the camera to include the woman Leon was treating for body lacerations that covered every inch of her torso. He went from her to a group of three whose faces were devoid of any expression, eyes dulled and unfocusing.

Those who could be classified as walking wounded, were sent to the homes of volunteer caters, with instructions for basic care.

"Like a bath!" someone remarked loudly. 'Wonder what I'll find under all that dirt and . . . yuck." Everyone volunteered to help almost to the point of being disappointed when all the victims had been assigned a place.

Leon and other medical staff gave general directions for emergency care. 'Keep them warm, give them plenty of fluid, but limit solid food until their bodies can adjust. Let them sleep all they want. But don't let them go off on their own. We'll set up evaluation conferences and see which might respond to rehabilitaion."

"Can you manage, Leon?" Scott asked earnestly.

"You better believe it, Ray,' Leon replied sharply. 'In fact we can and have managed it,' and he swung his arm in a broad gesture across the all but empty field. 'Who knows? Good food, fresh air, plenty of friendly faces . . ." he added with a wry grin, 'and good trauma skills, we may even effect a significant number of complete recoveries." 'You really think so?" Scott looked ready to accept any reassurance for the responsibility he had off-loaded on the colony.

"Sure do!" Leon said in such a positive tone that Scott finally relaxed. 'No way you could have left them! Any road, they're better off with us."

"They are, you know,' Kris said. 'You look beat, Ray."

"I should take one in with me. My house is finished,' and Scott stared after the last couples leaving the field.

"We'll switch people around, Ray. I'll make sure you take your turn,' Leon said ironically. 'Now, my prescription for you, Ray Scott, is get some rest. You too, Kris. You left your baby in the creche or does that seem years ago?" 'It does, you know,' she said. She'd been too busy to give much thought to Zane. But he was happy where he was: one of the creche girls had told her that he'd been just fine.

"I believe it. Get on up to him, now,' and Leon gave her a little push in the right direction. Then, when he saw Kris glancing about her for Zainal, he added, 'he was following the final load on the sled that last time I saw him." To her delighted surprise, she met him just short of the creche, with Zane in his arms. He shrieked with joy on seeing his mother and, almost overbalancing himself out of Zainal's arms, reached out both hands for her. Zainal let the exchange be made, one hand holding the recording camera tight against his side.

"I saw you filming,' Scott said, altering his direction to join them. He even managed a tired smile at the enthusiastic way Zane was hugging his mother. Zainal patted the camera, nodding. 'Such evidence is needed to show the Farmers how the Eosi treat humans. You will help me write a report, Ray?" And when Scott nodded wearily, Zainal added, 'What words do not say, the film will." 'You'll use one of those homing capsules the Farmers have in the Command Post?" 'The Farmers do not approve of species' injury. Once they see what Eosi do, we will hear from them again." There was considerable discussion about whether or not the Farmers would be able to play the pictorial record when Zainal, Kris and the former movie cameraman had finished making it.

Baxter, however, did still photographs that were indeed worth a thousand words of explanation, and these were carefully inserted in the message tube.

The homing device had no trouble penetrating the Balloon on its way to its destination. Its departure was once again noted by the orbital and the geo-synchronous satellite, as well as its abrupt disappearance just past the heliopause. The event was immediately sent to Eosi headquarters for distribution.

The Ix Mentat, just returned from its almost futile investigations on the rebellious planet, was so contorted with rage that its juniors feared it might lose connection with its host. It had only just received a report from Barevi, citing the disappearance of one of the new transporter vessels as well as over 2,000 slaves, destined for the mining colony at The Sot Fac Set which had been expecting replacements for unavoidable casualties in a major shaft collapse. When the report came to the composition of that shipment, the Ix Mentat came closer to self-extinction than any of its peer group in their long history.

Its recovery from such a seizure was slow: its host had suffered bodily injury and had to be repaired, an almost unheard-of complication in an Eosi/Emassi symbiosis.

To calm their senior, Mentats Co and Se issued orders that an installation was to be built on the innermost moon of the subject planet: a second orbital, programmed for a slower rotation, would provide constant surveillance and prevent the recalcitrant population from effecting another covert exit since it was now obvious that they had two or more spaceships.

When the Eosi Ix recovered fully from its incapacity, it began to organize the largest expedition ever mounted by Catteni forces. It would wreak the most horrific vengeance on that recalcitrant planet that had ever been mounted by Eosi Mentat.

Afterwards there would be no opposition left in the galaxy that could subject an Eosi to such humiliation. But first, they must find weapons or the method to breach the barrier around the colony planet.

A planet the Ix Mentat stoutly told all its colleagues, which was undoubtedly the cause of all the problems recently encountered by Catteni and Eosi alike. Once it was destroyed, the Eosi could resume their normal activities and enjoy their conquests unopposed.