being handled by the station. He stared at the display as they moved slowly away from a direct view of the massive unit.
"How big a navy did you say the Catteni have?" Ninety asked, looking quite anxious.
"More than you see here," Zainal said.
"Lots of traffic, too," Chuck said.
"That is good. For us." And Zainal smiled.
When they were far enough from the space station for Kris to feel as if there were no eyes on them, she and the others began to relax. Now they could spend the descent watching, as more details of the planet were visible.
"I know the field we've been assigned," Zainal said as their ship slowed for landing. "It has some facilities. Always be Catten there. I pilot now."
"SMALL?" Kris murmured, remembering to speak Catten as she took in the landing site. Nine football fields wide at the very least, and long as a Denver jet runway: almost larger than the landing field at the Farmers' hangar on Botany. Low, large buildings framed one side, and beyond them, across an access road, were separate structures, small enough to be dwellings though they reminded her more of the hovels in a Brazilian barrio.
They came down, venting more of Pete's smoke for effect. Zainal's hah dling of the ship made them all glad they were well strapped in but the motions certainly imitated a ship that was barely controllable. He also halted at a distance from what looked to be hangar or servicing facilities.
Immediately he and Gino, who seemed to be moving slowly for such a generally deft man, removed the panels of the control positions and substituted the scorched boards, handing the good ones carefully to Ninety and Chuck to wrap and store in a prepared hiding place. Ninety and Chuck grunted and seemed to get out of their seats like old men. Zainal replaced the damaged panels, as Gino couldn't seem to get his hands to work properly.
"What's the matter with me?" Gino demanded, in English, looking at his hands.
Ninety and Chuck were taking forever to walk down the short passage and Kris then realized that she felt awfully heavy. It took a real effort to bring one hand over to release the safety belt.
"Me, too," she said, struggling to stand.
"Hmmm," was Zainal's anxious response. "Cattens gravity is heavier than Earth's. You will adjust but slowly. Just move slowly and pretend that is how you move."
"Wow!" exclaimed Gino when, with considerable effort, he pushed himself to his feet. "My knees are not going to like this."
"Hurry with the hiding," Zainal called out down the passageway to Ninety and Chuck.
"We try, Emassi. We do," but even Chuck Mitford's heavy baritone voice sounded strained by the heavier gravity.
"They will think me a great pilot," Zainal said, with a toothy Catteni smile, "to bring down a ship in this condition:'
"Will they believe that we're Catteni?" Gino muttered.
Zainal gave one of his inimitable shrugs and grinned. "Who else but a Catteni would come here?"
"I can sure believe that;' Gino said in English. Zainal thumped him and cocked a warning eyebrow at him. "Kotik," he answered, chagrined at his lapse.
Zainal gave him a gentler pat for the proper response.
A pounding on the door and Zainal leaned forward to flick the release switch on the hatch.
There were Catteni growls of "get out of the way" and the thud of nailed boots on the deck as three men, none of them small, stalked into the cramped bridge compartment. Remembering all the drills, Kris somehow managed to get to her feet and assume the proper attention stance. She thought her arms would lengthen from the weight on her shoulders and it was hard to keep her chin up. Fortunately, she didn't have to say or do anything.
"Kivel," said the lead man who acted as Emassi as Zainal did. Since hi
neither stated that he was Emassi or saluted, Kris knew he had to be the same rank. His brutish features and small bright yellow eyes were also more typical of the species than Zainal's.
"Venlik," replied Zainal and waved to the scorched, warped panels while Gino, who was supposed to be another Emassi, displayed the carefully manufactured defective gyro part.
"Hmph." Kivel took and examined the gyro and handed it back to the Drassi behind him.
Kris decided she was getting good at differentiating the ranks.
Kivel now gestured for the damaged panel to be opened, and turned slightly so that Kris, being a lowly Drassi, could do it.
"Too many in here;' Zainal said irritably, and with an imperious wave at Kris, "open cargo, bay three. You hear me?"
Kris nodded which was a lot harder to do in the heavier gravity than she would have believed. And, by sheer effort of will, passed the other two big Drassi and, when she was out of sight, put both hands on the sides of the companionway to give herself some support. She made it to the cargo deck and was grateful that she knew how to operate it. As soon as the cargo hatch swung open, she saw the vehicle, load bed against the side of the ship, and stepped aside as seven men swarmed aboard. One was Drassi and the other poor wretches were obviously the Rassi, the primitives from which the Eosi had made the two more intelligent groups.
The Drassi shouted his commands, obviously delighting in his ascen-dance over these dumb creatures. For that was what they were. He had to show them where to place their hands on the crates, shoved them toward the open hatch, and even walked them onto the vehicle and pointed to where the crates must be stacked. He sent them back for another load but paused long enough to pick up one of the gold lumps, scratch the soft surface as if to reassure himself it was gold, before he dropped it with a dull thud back into the crate. Then he walked back and forth, the gravity not affecting him one iota, Kris noticed enviously, as he supervised the unloading.
"Is that all?" he asked, glowering at Kris.
"All on board"' Kris replied negligently.
"Humph," was his unimpressed response. She then handed him the receipt that Zainal had prepared.
"Everything must be signed and acknowledged," Zainal had told her, in a discussion of the unloading procedure. "He has to take it up front for my signing and whoever is his leader."
"Sign," she said firmly and held out the Catteni issue clipboard that had been in the KDL's supplies.
"Humph." He scrawled some runes.
She pointed to the companionway for him to take the board to his commander and with another "humph" he stomped off. She hung on to the control panel until she heard him returning before she straightened up against the awful weight. He jabbed the clipboard into her midriff. Fortunately she was leaning against the bulkhead so he didn't quite knock her down. She did remember to check that there were two new rune lines before she nodded and gave him the wave to leave. She was appalled to see him jump off the cargo deck to the ground-but then he was Catteni and had on heavy boots-her ankles ached from even watching him. He strode to the front of the vehicle and she was able to close the hatch and just slide down the bulkhead to sprawl on the deck, exhausted by this battle with Cat-teni gravity.
She was actually close to tears, thinking that she would be no good to Zainal at all on this mission when she couldn't even stand up for more than a few minutes without collapsing.
When she heard voices and booted steps in the companionway, she started to struggle to her feet but the noises stopped; she heard Zainal request transport for him and his crew for shore leave.
"Not much here;' Kivel said. "Try Blizte. Small but adequate."
"I know the place;' was Zainal's reply.
"Transport will be dispatched on our return."
"Good."
She didn't hear the hatch close and wondered what she should do now.
Get to her feet or collapse again. She knew which she preferred but dic]o want not to disappoint Zainal.
Suddenly he was there, hands under her armpits, lifting her, almost effortlessly, from the deck. He managed a quick press of his face against her cheek.