Freedom's Landing
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Catteni Sequence #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Freedom's Landing». Краткое содержание книги:
The alien Catteni value strength and intelligence in their slaves—and Kristin has managed to survive her enslavement while hundreds of other humans have not. But her trial has just begun, for now she finds herself part of a massive experiment. The aliens have discovered a new world, and they have a simple way of finding out if it’s habitable: drop hundreds of slaves on the surface and see what happens.
If they survive, colonization can begin. If not, there are always more slaves.
"Whatever those critters are that scavenge, at least they bite clean,' Leon said later that day when Kris helped him bandage an arm wound. Flesh had been excised as cleanly as a scalpel would cut but the patient had lost muscle as well as flesh and, from the extent of the injury, Kris rather thought the man would lose the use of his arm entirely.
"They bite big, too," she murmured under her breath, after looking to be sure the victim was unconscious.
Leon only sighed and continued his repair. Kris was rather surprised at her ability to regard hideous tears of flesh and muscle with an objectivity she didn't know she possessed. She hadn't been nauseous once, though others on the temporary nursing staff were.
The dressing complete, both she and Leon finished the current round and walked towards the front of the "hospital'. A breeze was blowing in and freshening the air of the "emergency room' which, for the first time in several days, was empty of patients.
"You," and she took Leon by the arm, "need food and rest, not necessarily in that order but I can see to it that you eat!" She took a deep sniff of the incoming breeze.
"Smells good, too." Hauling him by the arm, she marched him out and down the ledge to the cook cavern.
"I hate bossy females," Leon protested, but weakly, as she manoeuvred him past those busy with chores on the ledge.
Below, in his office, Mifford was still debriefing the able-bodied of the last batch though, from the expressions on his face and Esker's, he was making slow work of it with two blond Scandinavian types sitting there.
"Most Scandinavians speak English," Leon remarked.
"The ones you've met in Sydney, or the ones in Oslo, Bergen or Copenhagen?" Leon laughed wearily. "I always wanted to take a travel year.
"Well, guess what? You're on it. Already Kris missed the dour presence of Sandy at her hearth but Bart was present, and evidently in charge of the catering.
"Never been in a job that was so damned constant," Ban said when they presented themselves at his hearth.
He rolled his eyes and then mopped the sweat off his forehead with a pad of fluff which he then dropped into the fire. It hissed. "I'm cooking all the hours the good Lord put in this crazy day. What's your pleasure? We got soup for starters, soup and then, for the main course, soup. We even got crackers," and he offered a square of unleavened stuff, "cos we ran outa bread and the new baking hasn't risen yet." "Why, I think I'll have soup," Kris said, getting herself a clean bowl from the stack at the hearth.
"I'll have a taste adventure, then, and try the soup," Leon said and Bart grinned as he ladled out their portions.
"Don't ask what's in it, will ya," he said as a final caution when they moved out to the ledge to enjoy their meal.
"That's a promise," Kris said with a laugh.
The soup was tasty, with a tangy bite to it, as well as unidentifiable shreds of meat. The satisfying warmth in the stomach revived her. That was, until she saw Zainal carefully making his way down the steps to Mitford's office.
"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Dane demanded.
"Something other than lying in bed doing nothing," Kris answered Leon's complaint. She nervously shifted her feet, knowing she shouldn't follow the big man but wanting to be sure he didn't open that leg wound.
He very carefully negotiated his descent, so she made herself relax. The question was: what urgent business could Zainal have with Mitford that he'd risk opening that wound? Something he couldn't trust her to do for him? Down girl, she told herself firmly. She might be his keeper but she was not his conscience. Whatever he was saying to Mitford, the sergeant was listening very hard. Zainal was still there in the office when she and Leon had finished eating and had to go back on duty.
That evening Esker found her settling the other patients - none of whom had any English - in her den.
"Mitford needs to speak to you, Kris. And you, too, Zainal." He was gone before Kris could question him but, thinking over the tone in which the summons was delivered, she felt no apprehension. After all, Zainal had had that intense discussion with Mitford. Had the sergeant reached a decision? If one was needed?
Mitford was, as usual at this time of his long work day, sitting by the fire, the pottery pitcher of beverage by the side of his rock, the half-full cup in one hand. In the other, he had a stick and was prodding a billet to a better position in the fire.
"Zainal has some cockamamey notion of sending a mayday to his people next time they overfly us," Mitford said, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at Kris. "He feels we haven't had the last of these drops." Mitford gave a little sigh for the problems that yet another influx of people would provide. "Now, fer starters, I don't know as how I want to appeal to them for any help but it's the truth we need some sort of medical supplies, as well as the proper nutrients for the Deskis. That thornbush junk is not quite enough, not for the older Deskis though it's helping Coo. I just don't like to lose anyone, human or alien." He scowled as he delivered that remark.
"How could we possibly contact them?" Kris said, turning to Zainal.
"Make this message on field," Zainal said, and unfolded a slip of bark on which were written, or maybe "drawn' was the proper tem, four complex hieroglyphics Zainal had inscribed.
"How? We haven't rediscovered paint yet here." He gave her a brief smile. "Ground is dark under." and he waggled his hand to try to find the appropriate word.
"Stubble? Grass?" she supplied.
"Whatever. Take off covering, leave ground bare." That was a good idea, only somehow Kris shared Mitford's obvious reluctance to make any contact with the Catteni.
"We put message many fields off," and Zainal gestured to the north. "They know we live. They bring more they don't want."
"They know we're here?" Kris asked, more disturbed by that than she liked though a quick look at Mitford showed him more sanguine.
Zainal nodded. "Heat sensors. Then he stretched his lip in a humorous grin. "That's why they fly over."
"Humph, thought that might be it,' Mitford said.
"Bastards!" Then Zainal's grin altered to one of amusement at the sergeant's acceptance and once again Kris was amazed at how that smile transformed his alien cast of countenance.
He looked almost human, except for the white of his teeth contrasting with the grey of his skin. "Know we live so send more."
"Yeah, but they still don't know about the existence of the Meco Makers! Zainal shook his head. "Sensors find warm bodies, not machinery.
"Hmmm," Mitford said, stirring the fire with his branch.
"Coo still weak but young. Older ones worse and get worser," Zainal said urgently in English, then, in his concern, resorted to Barevi. "Catteni take captives everywhere, but they take good care of them. Of Rugarians, Deskis, Turs and Morphins, and Terrans.
Healthy bodies work better. Asking for proper food is acceptable.
"Won't they find it strange that we ask in Catteni symbols?" Kris asked, pointing to his bark message.
Zainal grinned broadly again. "They know humans are smart," he said in English. "Too damned smart, so they drop them here. No trouble here. Coo and Pess good folks. Can't lose." Now he turned his earnest expression on Mitford. "I work with Deskis and Rugarians before.
Good folks. We save them?"
"You sure have learnt English quick, Zainal," Mitford said in a drawl, temporizing, Kris thought. Then he regarded Zainal for a long moment. "And the Deskis deserve saving.