Freedom's Ransom (32 page)

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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

BOOK: Freedom's Ransom
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“By the time I was called to be a host, I had already been dropped, and therefore I stayed.”

Ladade regarded Zainal with veiled approval. Once again, Zainal wondered who had been on prison duty at that time. Possibly a vacillating member of the dissidents had betrayed him for whatever profit such information had reaped.

“I do have one idea, though, which you, Commander, are remarkably well situated to explore.”

“Yes?”

“This station keeps track of all ships in and out of the system, as well as their destinations, does it not?” he asked Ladade.

“You know it does.”

“Have you never considered tracking Eosi ships to see if they made frequent stops at some out-of-the-way or unlikely port?”

Ladade considered this, glancing at the personnel currently busy on routine duties. The three men had been speaking quietly and now both Ladade and Kapash glanced around to be sure that no one had been close to them when Zainal made his suggestion.

“I would happily discuss this with you once my friends have been released,” Zainal said.

“As I would be happy to discuss such a strategy with
you, Zainal,” Ladade said. “Tell Captain Fartov that we are on our way to release two prisoners.”

Then he peremptorily gestured for Zainal and Kapash to board Kapash's gig.

•   •   •

IT WAS AWFUL WAITING IN THE STINKING dark, Kris thought, but she would not give up hope until—no, even
if
—the ship's engines started up again. Zainal was resourceful. He would not let them be sent to a slave colony. But the waiting was terrible. And as everyone else in the compartment realized that they were being transported beyond hope or help, their moans and weeping were pathetic as well as contagious, and Kris caught back a sob in her own throat. Zainal will come. It was both prayer and litany.

She felt a bump reverberate through the ship's hull. More of an echo than a real concussion. As if a ship had connected with the airlock.

Oh, Zainal! Zainal!

She felt hands on her ankle, rough hands actually caressing her foot. She kicked against the grip as hard as she could and felt her foot connect with something soft. Someone groaned and cursed but the grasp on her foot had been broken.

“Don't do that again,” she muttered, her growl very determinedly Cattenish, as much from fright as lack of moisture in her mouth.

Almost stunned, she heard the door to their enclosure slide open, the door guide grating against its groove, and a hand light shining in, flickering across faces.

“Zainal?” she cried, hoping against hope that it was him and they were being rescued. Beside her, Kathy stirred and struggled to her feet.

“Kris? Kathy?” an unmistakable voice called.

It was Zainal! “To the right, Zainal,” she said, needing light to find her way among the tangle of bodies covering the floor.

The hand light swept to shine on her and Kathy. Kathy,
already on her feet, gave a little shriek of relief and fled to the doorway. Kris, her knees sore from the earlier fall, had more difficulty getting up. But Zainal closed the distance between them, clasping her tightly in his arms and lifting her out of the prison. The door clanged shut as soon as they were in the corridor. Zainal set her on her feet and gestured to the Catteni she did not know. Kapash she knew all too well, and she looked through him.

“Commander Ladade, this is my mate, Lady Emassi Kris Bjornsen, and this is Emassi Captain Kathy Harvey.”

The commander waved a blue sheet of paper. “You are officially released as unfairly accused.”

“I told you we didn't do anything, Kapash,” Kathy said, her voice croaking from her dry throat. She hated that display of weakness in herself. She would rather have stood unmoved by Kapash's attempt to debase her.

“You are free, are you not?” Kapash replied with a nasty smile on his face.

Kris gave him a long, contemptuous glare. “We did not misrepresent our product and you know it, Kapash.”

He gave a shrug, lifting both hands in a disarming gesture, suggesting that he had only been doing his duty.

“Commander Ladade,” a voice crackled from the ship's communicators, “to the control room. Ship X11-233 requesting permission to depart?”

The commander gave a little smile. “If you will follow me.” He turned to port. They did, with Kapash trailing behind them.

Zainal had Kris tightly by the hand, his thumb stroking her fingers. “Be easy, dear heart. I have wanted a chance to be in the control room. Humor me.”

It took all her concentration to make her legs manage the pace Ladade set and she suspected that both she and Kathy were operating on an adrenaline high that she hoped would last long enough to get them off this wretched station and safely among friends. But they were
out of that hideous prison ship. They were safe with Zainal.

Then they were in the control tower of the space station, looking out at the parking lights of ships. One set of lights was blinking, evidently to attract attention.

“X11-233, this is Commander Ladade. Your affairs are now in order and you may depart.”

The usual gravelly Catteni voice, remarkably polite, graciously accepted the permission. Within moments, Kris could see the flare of inter-system thrusters igniting and the ship ponderously moving toward full space—without her and Kathy aboard. She leaned into Zainal, almost fainting with relief. Kathy had taken the nearest free chair, ignoring a dirty look from a subordinate for such impertinence.

“Where is it bound?” Zainal asked, as if he felt required to make some comment. She could feel the tension through his body and wondered what he was after. She realized that his gaze was fastened on the nearest screen.

Shrugging indifferently, Ladade directed someone to bring up the file. Only Kris knew how important that file was to Zainal. She could feel the small sigh he released.

“Zerion 28.4.32. One of the mining colonies,” Ladade said. “A resource planet that I believe you yourself discovered for the Eosi.”

“I believe you're right, Ladade,” Zainal replied equably. “I did discover the planet. Too bad it had such rich metal lodes. It would have been suitable to colonize.”

“Please.” Now Ladade gestured for them all, Kapash included, to proceed to the portside door, which turned out to open into his private office, just off the command bridge.

“Perhaps you ladies would like some refreshment,” Ladade said, all courteous.

“Water would be welcome,” Kris said with great dignity, and he waved her to serve herself at the small catering unit. She poured two glasses of water from the pitcher and gave one to Kathy. She finished her glass,
trying to sip slowly so as not to upset her stomach. Then, with a movement she hoped would be graceful, her sore knee barely supporting her, she sank into one of the chairs.

“Where would you put the parameters of Eosi Pe's possible stops, Zainal?”

Zainal pointed to the screen on Ladade's desktop. “If you will bring up his file,” he said, moving to stand behind Ladade so he could see the screen. “Ah yes, well, if you notice, he makes quite a few trips to those coordinates.” He tapped the screen with a finger.

“Yes, yes, but there's nothing there. Not even a moon,” Ladade protested.

“I think you will probably have to achieve those coordinates and then see what might be in space nearby.”

“But, in space?”

“Where else to secrete something when only you know the place you left it?”

“But . . . but . . .”

“I'm sure it will take some searching, but think of the rewards, Ladade.”

“Where? Where?” Kapash came around the desk but before he could see the screen, Ladade altered the display, glaring at Kapash. Zainal straightened, but Kris, knowing him as well as she did, saw a gleam in his eyes. Whatever he had wanted to find, he had. She wondered what it was.

“What about Au? Where would he have hidden his treasure?” Eosi Au had once commanded both this station and the Barevi market.

Zainal shrugged. “You knew him better than I did, Kapash, Ladade. Probably even his habits, if you will stop to think, instead of being blinded by greed, Kapash.”

“You owe me.” Kapash waggled a finger at Zainal, barely able to contain his aggravation.

“Then let us discharge that debt to you with all possible dispatch, Kapash,” Zainal said in such an ominous
tone that even Ladade, fascinated by Zainal's theory, looked up from his screen.

“Indeed, Kapash,” Ladade said. “I will detain you on the station no further.” He motioned toward the door, and Kapash had no option but to leave at such a curt dismissal. He did so reluctantly, despite Zainal's guidance.

“What did you give for our release?” Kris asked in Zainal's ear as they strode along the corridor to the airlock where Kapash's gig was docked.

“The coffee,” he muttered.

Kris was both appalled and pleased to hear that her life had been ransomed by coffee beans. She really did mean a lot to him. But did he mean
all
the coffee? For someone who had given away one of their most important commodities, he looked oddly pleased. She hoped whatever he had found here was what he had wanted to discover.

She found that she had barely enough strength in her legs to get inside Kapash's gig. Kathy looked frightfully pale and sank instantly into the nearest seat. Pride kept Kris erect on her feet.

“Zainal, is there anything to eat on board? And I'm still thirsty.”

“I'll see.” He rummaged in the small alcove, finding only some Catteni dry rations. He gave one packet to her and another to Kathy and then brought them water. Kathy found a small packet of coffee beans in her tunic pocket and handed them to Zainal.

“Do you have a grinder on board, Kapash?” Zainal asked.

“Why ever would I?” Kapash replied in a surly voice. “We have some beans.”

“They are all mine, Zainal. Remember that!” He snatched the packet from her fingers. “And we go immediately to your ship so I may see that no more of my beans are distributed on Barevi.”

“Oh?” Kathy looked up at Zainal, her eyes wide with alarm.

“It's all right, Kathy.”

But on Kathy's face was the dismay he was going to see from everyone else involved in their Barevi mission. Not that he felt any would rebuke him for bartering the beans for the lives of the two women. Zainal winked at Kathy, who was so astonished that she dropped her eyes and continued to chew the hard Catteni rations.

Kris managed to eat enough to let her stomach work on something useful and then leaned back in a seat and thought of the long shower she would take to get rid of the stench of the prison.

•   •   •

NATCHI AND ERBRI APPEARED AT THE GANGWAY of Kapash's gig as they disembarked. Ferris was with them, and so relieved was he to see the women being escorted by Zainal that he let out a ululation that startled everyone on the dock. Then he raced away to find transportation.

It was Natchi who helped Kathy onto the small motorized cart that arrived, and it was actually Natchi who paid for the hire when they reached the KDM. Jax and Floss wept with relief when they saw their friends gliding past the berths. Then Clune and the Doyle brothers appeared. Ninety all but carried Kathy on board, seeing that she was by now so weak with shock.

Chuck arrived with Gino and Sally Stoffers, having been summoned back from the marketplace by Ferris. Eric came, too, looking as concerned as everyone else, though he went back to his current patient, whom he had left in the chair with Tavis in attendance.

There was freshly made coffee and Floss sliced bananas, deciding that the last of the ripe fruit would be easy to digest as well as good for them.

Kris and Kathy both finished the snack, grateful for Floss's care and solicitude. Then they decided they would feel better after a shower and clean clothes and excused themselves.

“Well?” Chuck asked Zainal, cocking a bushy eyebrow.
“Kapash, your people took off with the rest of the coffee.” Then leaning close to Zainal, he asked in a lower tone, “Was that the price of their freedom?”

“It was,” Zainal admitted.

“Well, they're worth it. They don't look as if they suffered any great harm.”

“Fortunately, no,” Zainal said with such an edge to his voice that Chuck grinned. “Do you care to inspect our holds, Kapash, to be sure the bargain has been kept?”

Kapash flicked away such a consideration. “You are an honorable man, Zainal.”

“There were only two full bags left,” Chuck said, “and what bagged beans we brought back from the market while we awaited your return.” Heavy in Chuck's eyes was the suspicion that Kapash might have trumped up the charges just to get the beans.

“Shall I give you a refund on your stall rental, Zainal, now that you have no reason to remain?” Kapash asked with studious politeness.

“We still have tradable goods, Market Manager,” Zainal said with equal courtesy and showed the man to the main exit.

“He did rig it, didn't he, Zainal?”

“It's a possibility,” Zainal admitted, knowing how devious the market manager was. Greed was Kapash's main motive, which, of course, meant that he had seen how popular the coffee was. Zainal left the galley to go to the control room. Curious, Chuck followed and found him lighting up the main computer screens. Zainal entered four letters and sat back, watching the unit deal with the code.

When a menu appeared, Zainal typed in another series and suddenly the screen scrolled down line after line of what Chuck thought were ship IDs.

“And what have you got here, Zainal lad?” Chuck asked, taking another seat.

“I met our beloved space station commander and he very kindly accessed some files for me, updating me—though
I'm sure he didn't mean to.” A smile wreathed Zainal's usually bland expression. “He gave me the chance to see two of his codes. One, this”—here he struck a save button and then an order to print the entire file—“is a list of all ship activity in and out of the station for . . . oh, probably ten years. That's as much as it's necessary to save.”

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