All the time Zainal spoke softly to them, not gently, not as he would speak to Zane, but as an adult would speak firmly and reassuringly to a frightened animal.
Tubelin put his head around the door and both boys stiffened, their yellow eyes dark and wide with the fright of surprise, which his unexpected appearance provoked before they could conceal their reaction. Once they recognized Kamiton, they relaxed a little.
“I have clean clothes, Zainal. I’ll space those rags if you’ll hand them to me, Kris.” She did, holding the mess by the tips of her fingers and letting them all fall into the receptacle Kamiton offered.
“Have you any clear soup to give them, and perhaps some journey bread,” Zainal said as he gently pushed the boys ahead of him toward the galley. Coo and Pess were alone at the table but the boys merely glanced through them, as if the two Deski did not exist.
Well, Kris told herself sternly, they’ve probably been taught that Deski are little better than Rassi.
When Coo and Pess made to rise, Zainal gestured for them to remain where they were. Someone had already put some clear soup in the heater so all she had to do was pour it in cups and get out the travel bread. Zainal raised one finger to show he’d have some, too. Lord, those kids were messed up bad, Kris thought. How will we ever get through what they have been conditioned to expect? Or, having been roughed up so much, would they rough up her son?
Zainal sat opposite the boys, beside Pess, and dipped the bread into the soup, blowing on it to cool it. The boys did nothing, though Kris saw the tongue of the older boy, Bazil, protrude slightly between his cracked lips. Then Zainal put his bread first in Bazil’s cup and then Peran’s before he ate it as if to prove it was not only edible, but harmless.
“Eat. You need food. This is good.”
Peran, being the younger, could not contain his hunger at that invitation and nearly burned his tongue to get the bread into his mouth. Bazil gave him an almost contemptuous sneer, but he was no less quick to take his first bite.
When they had finished their meal, although their eyes darted back to the heater unit, which they knew still had soup in it, they waited. Peran’s lids wearily descended over his eyes, but he shot bolt upright again as soon as Bazil pinched him.
“No more now, Bazil,” Zainal said in a neutral tone. “You need sleep, too. There will be more soup when you awaken. That I promise!” Zainal rose and, still not offering them his hands as he would certainly have offered one to Zane, he pointed the way for them to go.
Coo leaned across the table and patted Kris’ hands; Pess offered a square of fabric when she started to sniff and then to cry.
“Being Emassi not easy,” Coo said.
When Pess’ thin arm came about her shoulders, Kris just leaned into the embrace and let the tears flow. She didn’t even care if one of the other Catteni came in and saw her weeping.
So, by the time Zainal returned, she was over the worst of it. He knew she had been crying because her eyes always turned red.
“They have suffered much,” Zainal said. “That shall be considered when this is ended.” He reached for the Hooch bottle and poured himself a large tumbler full, taking a big gulp of it.
“Tubelin is a good Emassi but even he did not like what he saw when he visited the farm where they had been made to work like Rassi.”
“Is that why they were so dirty?” Kris heard herself asking with great indignation. “But why were they beaten? They’re seven and nine? They’ve been starved, too.”
Zainal took the hand she was waving about in consternation and clasped it firmly.
“I had not thought Perizec capable but it may have been the idea of my brother’s mate. She is such a good Catteni mate,” and his emphasis on “good” was sarcastic. “It will take longer than it should but they will learn much on Botany and want to know more.”
• • •
THEY FOLLOWED THE TORTUOUS COURSE INTO the maze of their infamous and rich asteroid belt and once again, while Nitin, Kasturi, Tubelin, and Zainal’s two sons watched with varying degrees of consternation during the twisting route, made contact with Kamiton at his hollowed-out asteroid.
Then Zainal poured on all the power at the KDL’s disposal on the way back to Botany.
The two boys did not speak unless spoken to, and Tubelin, whom they knew almost better than their father, would tell them stories in a decidedly avuncular and uncharacteristic manner. Zainal put them on a feeding schedule of every two and a half hours, each time little meals until their cheeks began to fill out and flesh appeared over their ribs. He also taught them how to print their names in Catteni glyphs and then in English letters. What astonished Kris was their absolute obedience.
“It’s been beaten into them to obey without questions, Kris,” Ninety said when she voiced her distress to the Humans. “We’ll just be sure they never hear another discouraging word on Botany, that’s all.”
Chuck tilted his head sideways. “I’ve seen whipped puppies a time or two. It’s going to take a lot of patience to make that a happy pair again.”
“If they ever were,” Kris said glumly. “I don’t think Catteni have happy childhoods. Or expect to.”
“Now, Bjornsen,” and Chuck Mitford patted her shoulder, “we’ll all help.”
And so he contrived to make a checkerboard from a bit of stiff packing casing, coloring it in, and then neatly scissoring out the counters from another piece.
“What makes you think Catteni kids play games?” Gino asked when he saw the finished product.
“Ah, a zemgo board,” Kamiton exclaimed in surprise as he entered the mess room.
“What makes you think there wouldn’t be something similar in such a warlike culture, Gino?” Chuck demanded, grinning at Kamiton. “Will Bazil and Peran know how to play…zemgo?” he asked in Catteni.
“Hmm. I shall soon find out. Or will you teach them since you made the board?”
“It might be good if I teach, and you tell them the moves at first,” Chuck said. “I wouldn’t know the right words and they should learn the proper words.”
“I will return with them. A good idea, Sshuk,” Kamiton said and went to find the boys.
“They were on the bridge, standing watch with their father,” Kamiton said when he returned with them. He pointed at Bazil to sit at one side of the table next to Chuck and Peran to sit on the other. Then he sat beside Peran and asked if the boys knew the game.
Bazil managed the barest of negative head shakes. Peran just stared at the bright colors of the board and the round white counters on his side.
“This is a good game for Catteni to know,” Kamiton explained. “It teaches how to form your troops for battle and how to win against an equally matched opponent. You are white, Peran, you must start first.”
Peran kept his hands in his lap, his little body stiff with indecision.
“Why don’t we play, Kamiton?” Chuck suggested.
“He is Emassi,” muttered Bazil, glaring up at Chuck.
“So he is,” Chuck said, amiably. “And so am I.”
Bazil darted a surprised look at Kamiton and received a confirmatory nod. Bazil sank in on himself in dismay.
“All on this ship are Emassi,” Kamiton said.
“Even the little one?” Bazil asked, his dull yellow eyes flickering with doubt. But his tone was more courteous.
“All,” Kamiton said.
“So we shall play, Emassi Kamiton?” Chuck asked as demurely as only a sergeant of marines could.
“Yes, let us show Bazil and Peran how this ancient game is played, Emassi Sshuk.”
• • •
THE TWO BOYS WATCHED CHUCK AND KAMITON play four games (ending in two wins each), every time explaining the moves and discussing the game so the boys would know why. Then Gino played Chuck and won, but when he played Kamiton, the Catteni won. The boys showed the first spark of interest. It wasn’t until Zainal entered the room and saw that the boys only watched, making no move to play at all, that he poin
ted to the board and said in a hard voice: “Play! Need to know!”
He left the room and Kris followed, furious with his so-Catteni manner that she almost couldn’t speak as she dragged him into the captain’s quarters. She slid the panel shut and told him off, madder than she had ever thought she could be with him.
“Those boys have been so mistreated,” she railed at him, “could you not show a little give?
He listened, with his Catteni face.
“I’ve never seen such bruises, nor such constant brutality on boys so young. What were your folk doing to them? Systemically brutalizing them as punishment for what you did?”
“Yes.” And his quiet reply, and the sad look in his eyes, silenced her.
“Then why aren’t you, their father, from whom they can expect some affection…”
He held up one hand. “Catteni fathers are not affectionate.”
“But you are with Zane!” She was flabbergasted, “How can you differentiate like that? All three are children and need love and kindness and care…” And when he opened his mouth to speak, she advanced on him so infuriated that he recoiled slightly, not trying to evade the hard finger she poked into his chest as emphasis to her words. “And don’t tell me Catteni children cannot expect such treatment, too.”
“From their mothers, not from their fathers.”
“And, I suppose, now you’ll tell me that Bazil and Peran are too old to be with their mothers.” When he nodded, she made a sound of total disgust and frustration. She was so mad she couldn’t think of what to say next. “If you ever…ever…take a Catteni line with Zane, I’ll…I’ll kill you!”
“Or Pete Easley will,” Zainal replied calmly. Mad as she was, she could see the shadows in his eyes. He might have expected the treatment his sons had received, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
“Oh, God, Zainal, why am I angry at you?” And she put her arms around him in apology and returned affection.
Hesitantly, she felt, with great relief, his big hands gripping her shoulders, pressing a response to her expression of regret.
“We must treat them—for now—as Catteni boys are reared, and gradually, when they have settled, teach them that there are other ways, and that they may learn whatever they want, not just what they ‘need to know.’ I want them to be more Human, too.”
“Well, that’s better,” she said, sniffing back the tears that pricked her eyes: tears of frustration and relief. “I couldn’t stand it if you turned all Catteni on me suddenly. And if you ever…” She raised her finger threateningly.
“Zane is Human. He is your son and I will always treat him as I see Human children treated.”
“When in Rome…huh?”
He repeated the phrase without comprehension.
“Oh, I’ll explain later, Zainal.” And she cupped a hand on his head. “Must we all be hard with the boys?”
“For now. We must give them the orders they need to know…” And a ghost of a smile pulled at his finely shaped lips. “To make them sure of how to act and what to do. But we will be fair, where others have not. And, if we can get them to play zemgo, it will help. And if you are not as firm as we are, they will not respect you. And they must for they will find out that you are a woman and therefore, now that they are becoming adult, they will need to see you as a being who commands respect, too.”
She leaned against him, accepting the burden of such an uncharacteristic manner for her.
“Am I not a warrior already, being on this ship?”
“Reinforce that as often as possible, for when we reach Botany, they will see that you are also a woman and a mother. And wonder.”
“They’ll have an awful lot to learn on Botany,” she said, ruefully.
“They will have the need to know,” Zainal answered, a lilt of rueful laughter in his voice.
“So, if I preface remarks with ‘you need to know this,’ it will be all right?”
“They’ll…how do you say it…catch on quickly. Neither is stupid.”
“Of course. They’re your sons.”
• • •
CHUCK HAD CAUGHT ON TO ZAINAL’S METHOD of treating his sons. Which must have been easiest for Mitford, Kris thought, having had to train recruits in the marines. Gino, whose Italian background was totally at odds with Catteni child rearing, had to be talked into playing it Zainal’s way. Coo and Pess had no problem, and Mack Dargle taught them how to carve things out of pieces of wood and how to assemble useful equipment. They knew how to handle knives but returned the blade immediately after they had finished their turn with it. They liked the assembling best, though, and their fingers were quick once they’d been shown how the first time.
The other Catteni ignored them, save for Kamiton who kept trying to get Bazil to make moves against his counters on the board.
When they were within the Botany system, all stations were on the alert for any possible Eosi presence.
“The work on the moon base has stopped,” Zainal observed.
“They were sent the useless materials,” Nitin said with a wry expression. “My contribution. They will be stopped for some time as the regular shipments have also been diverted. They may even run out of oxygen and water.”
Kris’ sense of fair play was assaulted by such doings, and she had to keep her mouth shut. Catteni could deal with Catteni as they wished…just so long as Botany was safe from their methods and ethics.
• • •
THEY ENTERED THE BUBBLE ON THE EQUATORIAL line, just out of the range of the geo-sync satellite. Prior to that they had spotted a distant “V” formation of Catteni ships headed directly toward Botany.
“See if we can get through to Retreat,” Zainal asked Gino who was sitting at the com controls.
“Oh, you’re back, are you?” said a female voice. The visual was not clear so only a hazy picture came through the thinned Bubble material. The voice sounded slightly filtered but intelligible.
“Who’s this?” Gino asked.
“Jane O’Hanlon, here. Now we can use the array, someone has to man the com desk all the time. Or woman it as the case is today. Gino Marrucci, right?”
“Right.”
Fortunately only Kamiton, of the five Catteni on the bridge just then, had enough English to catch some of the words he knew. But the other four exchanged surprised looks that a female had answered.
“Did you get what you went after?”
“We did but there are some boogies…”
“We’re expecting them. Baby returned last week with her piggyback G-class ship to warn us of the traffic to come. She may have to go back and lead some through the Bubble. You may be needed, too, as the other K’s are still wandering around.”
“How many ships were hijacked this time?” Zainal asked, frowning slightly. He was still nervous, despite assurances from Kamiton, Nitin, Tubelin, and Kasturi that, with due care, the disappearance of the ships would not be immediately noticed.
“Catteni ships are all over the galaxy and some never come back,” Kamiton had said repeatedly, waving his hand indifferently at such losses. “It works to our advantage. We must have enough to be able to strike at Eosi before they know that death approaches.”
Since that was not the strategy which Ray and the other head council members were advocating, no one on board contradicted Kamiton, not even Zainal.
“There are three G-class coming back from one of the other colonies where Terrans were dropped. The K’s are coming back with supplies and equipment and only a few refugees.”
“If the G-class are full,” Zainal said, “we will be very busy.”
“Preparations are being made,” Jane said, “and Ray Scott is thinking of the closed valleys as safe interim sites. With the K’s coming back with food and equipment, what we have won’t be spread so thin.”
Zainal nodded, occupied with slowing the forward speed of the KDL so that it could gently nudge its way through the Bubble. Immediately the picture of Jane’s duty station cleared up.
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“That’s better,” she said, smiling and then caught sight of the four Catteni just visible behind Zainal. “Ah, we have guests,” and she added in good Catteni, “welcome to Botany, Emassi.”
“How does she know we are Emassi?” Nitin asked, as if slightly offended by being addressed as an equal by a woman.
“Why would I inflict Drassi on Botany?” Zainal asked. “The ones we have are more than enough.”
“The ones you have?” asked Nitin, surprised.
“The crews of the ships we have captured have been placed in an isolated area.”
“You did not kill them?” Nitin frowned.
“And ruin Catteni uniforms when we needed them?” Gino asked, though there was an edge to his question.
“Those who disobeyed died,” Zainal said in a tone that did not leave any need for further questions.
Chapter Nine
BIG AS THE FARMERS’ HANGAR WAS, IT could no longer accommodate the “fleet” Botanists were assembling. Jane informed them that they could unload there, but might have to take some of their supplies to other locations, thus cutting down on the transportation problems.
“We need more ground vehicles with heavy load capacities. Doesn’t do any good to steal trucks from Earth because we have no gasoline or diesel here. So you’ll have to do the transporting. You don’t happen to have a list of your cargo, do you? Then we can figure out where else to send you.”
“It’s in Catteni,” Zainal said with a chuckle.
“Okay, then Sally Stoffers will be supercargo,” Jane replied. “Send it down and safe landing.”
And it was. Immediately the stevedore contingent and several of the large flatbeds, plus a forklift which had been “acquired,” surrounded the KDL. There was only so much gasoline available for it so the engineers would have to convert it to solar power. Aarens and Pete Snyder were there since Zainal had indeed brought back some of the elements needed by the engineering group. Sally Stoffers was acting as supercargo with two assistants to check off what was to be off-loaded as she translated the manifests from Catteni.
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