"Never thought anything would be better than money," Suzie said, rubbing her fingers together in an age-old gesture.
Though neither Eddie nor Eric had mentioned paying for the items that were now displayed on the countertop, Kris opened the backpack and, indeed, the odor of fresh bread wafted out. Kris of-fered Suzie a roll.
"I baked them myself," she said, almost apologetically, and passed her a roll. The old woman tentatively reached out for the bread, glancing at her husband as if she didn't dare complete the gesture un-til he had agreed. He nodded.
"Take it," Kris said and extended her hand until the roll was nearly in the woman's fingers. They closed on the bread as if the woman was afraid Kris would snatch it away from her.
"Would you excuse me?" Suzie said, holding the roll protectively against her chest as she backed out of the room.
Kris placed the backpack on the counter and offered a roll to Ed-die, who eyed it as Murray had, with longing.
"I've nothing to offer you to drink," Eddie said wistfully. "We have all we need," Eric said soothingly.
Eddie took another deep breath. "You could charge for the smell of it, you know," he murmured. "What else?" he asked, hands on the edge of the counter.
Eric named a few more things, which Eddie scurried to find from his supplies.
"Now, I gotta tell you I can't charge it, Eric, though you were al-ways one of the promptest to settle your account," Eddie said, eyeing the roll. "And two rolls ain't enough."
Kris peered into the backpack. "Fifteen, sixteen rolls." "Welclass="underline" "
"And some other food. Zainal, ask Dover to bring in a flat of the rock squats."
"Rock squats?" Eddie asked, surprised.
"A sort of avian from Botany that is very tasty. Game bird. It's been cooked."
"Kosher?" Eddie asked.
"You're asking kosher?" Eric said, surprised. He rested a hand on Eddie's and squeezed reassuringly. "I know God is everywhere and sees all, but you look like you need a few good meals. However, to re assure you, this is a kosher-type game bird and hunted, which is permissible, even if it is alien. Are you going to go kosher on me when I have good food to offer you in return for all this?"
"We do have gold," Zainal suggested.
"Gold, smold, what good is gold with shortages like we got?' Ed-die demanded.
"You were never that orthodox, Eddie," Eric said so firmly that Eddie Spivak gave a little shrug.
"No, but I still got my ethnic pride."
Eric blew an exasperated breath out just as Dover came in with the rock squats. He had judiciously covered the tray with one of the clean bread towels. With a flourish, he flicked off the towel to show the browned halves of rock squat.
Despite long-held principles, Eddie peered at the display. Kris could see his lips moving, not so much from hunger as from count-ing. The flat held twenty-four portions. And, when he achieved the total, Eddie clasped his hands together, almost reverently.
"Enough food for days!" he said on a happy sigh. "And the bread, too?"
"Both. Enjoy and have good health," Eric said. " Is this enough for what I have purchased?"
"More than enough. Can we make soup out of it, too?" he asked Kris, pointing to the rock squats. "They look like chickens."
Kris laughed. "Chicken soup is good for colds. I don't know as we ever used it specifically for that on Botany, but it does make a good soup."
"You have saved us, then, Eric," Eddie said with great solemnity, clasping his hands together against his chest.
"The backpack isn't ours to trade," Kris said when she heard Jelco clear his throat. "And I could use the flat tray back, too, if you don't mind."
"A minute, please," Eddie said and, flipping up the counter leaf, stepped out. He started for the hall down which Suzie had disap- peared and then whipped back, neatly picking up a rock-squat half before he was off again.
They could hear a shriek and then a gabble of excited comment before Eddie came back with a tray and a bread basket. He upended the backpack into the basket and carefully transferred the roasted meat to the tray, licking his fingers when he had finished the operation. "Hmm, not bad." He grinned like a happy gnome. Eric held out his hand. "Then we have a done deal?"
Eddie grasped it, shaking firmly. "Best deal I've been able to make in weeks."
Then Eric carefully packed away his supplies in the canvas carrier and pulled the loops over his arm.
"Will you be back again from this Botany place, Dr. Sachs?" Ed-die asked as everyone shifted toward the door.
Eric gave a diffident shrug. "Who knows?"
They exchanged more good wishes as Eddie saw them to the door. Once in the alleyway, they could hear him closing bolts and turning keys.
Urchins had gathered around the truck, Murray trying to shoo them away while Wylee stood, legs spread, in the truck bed, trying to look fierce.
"Let's get this show on the road," Jelco said, motioning for Kris and Zainal to get back in the front seat. "Didja get everything you needed, Doc?" Jelco asked as Eric carefully handed the backpack up to Dover, advising him to place it carefully.
"Actually, more than I hoped I'd find," Eric said, swinging up onto the back of the truck. "Eddie Spivak always kept his inventory current. Nothing here is close to its use-by date."
Kris gave a chortle. "'Use-by' date has probably lost its signif-icance. And I don't know about anyone else, but I'm hungry. We've enough rock squats for lunch, you know. And about two dozen more rolls."
"Let's do this down the road a bit," Jelco said, motioning to the kids who were now standing back from the truck. "I don't want to cause a minor riot, being seen to have food."
"Oh!" was all Kris could say. "Maybe we should:" she began, thinking of the wizened, hungry little faces.
"Charity begins at home," Jelco said so firmly that Kris put her usual compassion on hold. They really didn't have enough to share. They pulled up farther down Thirteenth, where there was no au-dience looking out of upper stories. Murray almost gulped down his portion of rock squat, licking his fingers for any juice, before he pulled apart his ration of roll. No one asked for seconds. But there were still supplies left.
They proceeded back to the Lincoln Tunnel, Kris trying not to look at the pathetic little clusters of people at street corners, ragged and hungry-looking. They stopped only long enough for the Eastside guards to check them off as returning, though the cargo was eyed with curiosity.
Kris didn't even give a thought to the air she was breathing in this second pass under the Hudson River. She wouldn't die of a lung-ful of tainted air. She took a deep breath once they came out on the other side.
"Hey, New Jersey smells pretty good."
"Even Secaucus smells pretty good now there ain't no more pigs raised there," Murray said. "Mind you, I wouldn't mind the smell if it'd get me a roast of pork now and again."
They proceeded south on the turnpike until they saw the airport on the right. Also visible was the unmistakable bulk of the BASS-1, sitting on the runway just where they had left it.
Their return must have been observed because Jelco's phone buzzed. He answered it with an affirmative-evidently a re-sponse to a query about their mission's success. He listened silently for a moment, casting a sideways glance at Zainal before closing the phone.
"As soon as we unload the stuff, coord wants to have a chat with you. Nothing serious," he added when he noticed Kris was anxious. "Sort of kinda to get your impressions, I think. He's real proud of our sector and wants to be sure the other coords did right by you, too. Gotta keep discipline, y'know"
"You guys were marvelous," Kris said with genuine appreciation. "Sometimes it works out that way, ma'am," Jelco admitted, salut-ing her with two fingers. "Glad we could oblige." He licked his lips, blushing when he realized what he had done. "Bread was super: and so was lunch. Those squats of yours are real tasty."