"With them! The nerve, the consummate gall"' and she tried to struggle out of his embrace.
"Sometimes, Kristin Bjornsen, you protect me when I do not need it;' he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. "As you would Zane:'
"Nonsense;' Kris snapped, trying to push him away. "You don't know when to be insulted. I am insulted. For you."
Zainal laughed and easily resisted her attempts to break free.
"It is difficult to insult an Emassi;' he said. "I think it is better for them to find out that I am very, very smart. It will solve other problems."
That mild remark stopped her struggling.
"What problems?" she demanded, suspicious.
"The ones I must solve."
"Which are?"
"How to free us…" and he gestured himself and then to her, "and your people from the Eosi:'
"But we need the Farmers' help for that and we have no idea when we'll have a response-if any-to that report you sent them. What are you planning, Zainal?"
"This time you, too, must wait and see," he said, giving her a final squeeze before he released her. And she got no more out of him.
He went off to the session with the anthropologists while she fumed and fretted as she did the household chores. She was not due for her shift until late afternoon. She couldn't even find satisfaction in taking care of Zane, which she usually enjoyed thoroughly. She all but pounced on Zainal when he returned a few hours later.
"Well?" she demanded as soon as he entered the cabin.
His grin was a partial reassurance but she insisted on details. "They say I am very smart. At the top."
"How could they figure that out? What did they ask? How did you reply?"
"Carefully"' he said, pouring himself a cup of water. "Thirsty work."
Kris let out an explosive "oh" of total frustration. "You'd drive a saint to drink."
"Saint? More of that God stuff?"
"What sort of questions?" She would not be diverted.
"Logic ones which I am well able to answer. Sorrell told me that they used some of the Mensa tests? That you would know what those are?"
Kris nodded, obliquely reassured. "And?"
"I passed;' he said and then bent to lift the lid on the pot over the fire.
"We eat here tonight?"
"Yes, it's the stew you like. How high did you pass?"
Zainal's grin was malicious. "Very high. They were surprised and…"
he paused to let his grin broaden, "they were respectful."
"Well, it's about time."
He turned and put his arms about her, drawing her close to him so that he could look her in the eyes. "One earns respect. It is not just given:'
"But you've earned it twenty times over, Zanal," she said, not quite willing to be totally placated by his proximity but she did let her arms creep around his neck. "When I think of how lucky we were that you got dropped…"
"I was very lucky," he said, burrowing his head in her hair. "Very lucky;' They remained in that embrace, enjoying the simple pleasure of touching and being together until Zane, waking from his afternoon nap, disturbed their communion.
"So, what have you been planning in that devious stimulated Catteni mind of yours?" Kris asked.
"I think we have to go to Earth," he said so casually that she nearly dropped her son.
"Just like that? Go to Earth? How? Why? Can you? Will they agree?"
"It is safer right now than it will be…" he began, taking Zane from her to dandle on his knee, which had the boy chortling with delight, while she tasted the stew.
"Oh?" The stew needed a pinch more salt, which she added.
"Yes, because it will take time for the Eosi to discover that the Victims did not get to the intended destination. They will also be thinking of a way to break through the Bubble. They do not like such defenses."
"So? What good would a trip to Earth do?"
"Now I think there may be other Catteni, who have had enough Eosi," and he grinned at her. "I am not the only one who thinks for himself.
Who is smarter than the Eosi want us to be. I know of five who are like me. I need to know where they now are. I need to know if there are more now)'
"Five? Against how many Eosi?"
Zainal considered as he tickled Zane's toes while the little boy giggled, withdrawing his feet and then presenting them again.
"I think there are no more than one hundred."
"Because that's all the Catteni they upgraded? Don't they reproduce or something?"
Zainal shook his head. "Not that we know of."
"We?"
"The others of like mind I told you about. We have met, in small groups, from time to time, to exchange knowledge)'
"You mean, you've been plotting against the Eosi for a long time?
What would have happened if you had to be subsumed?"
"A risk all Emassi take," he said with a shrug. "Yes, I do believe that we have been looking for some way to shake Eosian domination. Your people have shown a resistance no other species has. That's good)'
"As far as it goes and look what happens to Humans who resist…"
and Kris's gesture included the planet. "How many worlds do the Eosi dom-Mate?
I mean, there're the Deski, the Rugarians, the Turs, the Morphins, and the Ilginish… How many others?"
"The Eosi control fifteen star systems that have at least one intelligent race: another ten where they take metals and materials."
Kris laughed. "You honestly believe a rebellion has a chance against such a setup?"
"If we have the Farmers' help…"
"Boy, oh boy, oh boy, are you an optimist!"
"It is a start. It is more than we have ever had."
"With two spaceships and a scout, we can go up against that sort of opposition?"
"it is a start."
"I've got to hand it to you, Zainal. God loves a trier," Kris said, shaking her head at the impossible task he had proposed. And yet… "Have you mentioned any of this to any one else yet?"
"I talked to Chuck. I will speak to others. We need to go to Earth as soon as possible. Earth needs to know that Botany is!"
"Let's eat first, shall we?" Kris said as brightly as she could, trying to assimilate the magnitude of his vision.
DOROTHY DWARDIE'S TEAM spent the first week assessing the condition of the mind-wiped and divided them into various arbitrary groupings, according to the perceived severity.
As she said in her initial discussion with her aides, there were two levels of healing: one, the physical trauma of assault on the tissue and/or function of the brain, and two, the psychological trauma of assault on the psyche or self. She expected that some trauma would be time-limited.
"The mind has gone into functional frostbite," she said, "and when it thaws after the trauma, returns to normal function without help. Since most of these people were trained scientists, it's possible that many will sim ply reestablish old neural pathways. There may be some loss of factual memory: maybe even a great deal. Even then much may return over a period of time.
"Right now, they need reassurance, interaction: music, smells, kindness, encouragement, gentle exercise. As normal a routine as we can manage.
Talk to them, about anything and everything: help them reestablish themselves.
Where we know the name, repeat it often. When we know something of their background, refer to that as frequently as possible. Help them reacquaint themselves with themselves."
Kris had three women, all in their late fifties: two had been research physicians in a drug company-Peggy Ihde and Marjorie Flax; the third they called Sophie because Sarah McDouall said she thought she looked like a Sophie. Kris was to supervise their meals. Just putting a spoon or a fork in their hands stimulated self-feeding. She read to them from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, which they might even have read in their younger days. She took them on quiet walks in the lodge-pole copse, or sat with them above the bay where benches had been placed for meditation.