Zainal could bluster and threaten but, as he had no retaliatory power or armed forces, his threats were empty. Zainal had no effective way to force Kamiton to comply. His priority had been to secure Botany's autonomy and that of the other Terran forced-colony worlds. The martial arm of Catteni was still intact even if the Eosi had been destroyed, and Botany was in no position to succeed against the formidable Catteni fleet-especially now that the Farmers' remark-able and impervious bubble had been removed from the space around Botany. Kamiton would not have permitted an armed and defensible Botany nor had Zainal suggested it. He had aimed instead for restor-ing all the forced immigrants to their home world-if they wished to go-and independence from Catteni interference if they elected to stay. Botany was the most tenable and developed of the enforced colonies, so this had been quite a concession on Kamiton's part. Pos-sibly it had come under review and criticism from the conservative Catteni, who were now in charge of their home world.
"But we have nothing more than food stores to ransom the goods we need," Dorothy said, adding, "that is, if I have properly under-stood what you said. A quid pro quo. Something for something."
"'Ransom' is the right word, Dorothy," Zainal replied, nodding graciously at her.
"And we can't in conscience use the Farmers' stores," Kris replied. She and Zainal had been leading opposition to that. "At least not for such a purpose. Feeding the hungry on our own world is one thing."
"Feeding the greedy on Barevi is not," Peter said firmly. "Have we nothing else with which to barter?" Peter was fascinated by Paxel's dental work, Kris noticed. He caught Kris's eye. "See what Mike Miller has in."
She nodded, understanding what he meant.
"An ounce for what quantity of goods?" Zainal asked in quick comprehension. "Kris, if you would be good enough to contact
Mike?" He jerked his head toward the main communications bank in the hangar. "First we have to know what we have. And perhaps, Paxel, you would be good enough to suggest commodities."
Kris smiled at Paxel and rose gracefully. "Be right back." She couldn't help lapsing into a provocative stroll since Paxel was obvi-ously watching her. She was by no means vain about her tall, lithe fig ure or her long, blond, attractively arranged hair. She didn't consider herself beautiful even if Zainal often told her that he thought she was but she knew that she wasn't unattractive.
She made her way into the main hangar where Jerry Short was sit-ting, looking extremely nervous.
"It's all right, Jerry, we aren't killing the messenger," she said with a grin.
"I heard tell the Eosi did allatime," he replied, not completely re-assured.
"The Catteni is a nephew of Zainal's."
"I don't think that would have bothered the Eosi."
"Neither do I, but Zainal is not Eosian. Would you please see if you can get Mike on the comm?"
"Mike Miller?"
Kris took what looked to be the most comfortable of the three battered chairs facing the comm unit.
"The very one."
"Why? Do we need more gold for teeth?" Jerry asked over his shoulder as he looked up Miller's comm-unit number and tapped it in. "Now, you know, that's a very good notion, Jerry," she said, smil-ing at him. One of her private priorities was going to be new chairs for this place so no one would have back and coccyx problems from long hours on duty. "I wonder how many spare-part packages we could get for an ounce of dust?"
"How much dust does it take to build a gold cap? And do we have any dentists on our roster?"
On another board, Jerry tapped in a sequence. "I'll find out." Just then Mike's gravelly voice answered the prime call.
"Miller here. What can I do you for?"
Mike was in a good mood, Kris thought at his jocose greeting, and she hated to spoil it.
"Kris here, and it's what I can do you out of again, Mike. I'm beg-ging. Have you mined anything valuable enough to use for ransom-ing our equipment back from the merchants on Barevi?"
"What?" The force of that simple word reminded Kris that Mike had a reputation as a brawler: a big energetic man who had done hard physical labor all his life and would have been a match in a brawl even with a Catteni. Maybe they should take him with them to Barevi. By the same token, maybe she should not. While Zainal had not yet mentioned a large mission, Kris knew that it would be necessary and would require every other Catteni-speaker. "As I heard it, all they've got is goods they looted from Earth. Thought they were supposed to give it over to us."
"That was the general idea, but it evidently doesn't work for the Barevian merchants."
"Thought Zainal had figured out how to make them," Mike said and started cursing under his breath.
"They've got crates of stuff they can't use, which they won't re-lease until something is paid over. So we just have to cut bait and ran-som what is most needed, Mike. I don't like it any better than you do, and Zainal is apoplectic." Which was hyperbole but she knew that Zainal was not at all pleased by the situation. Terrans had had to swal-low considerable amounts of pride since the day the Catteni invaded Earth, and most people had had to do worse.
"You're in luck, Kris. We've been mining that diamond pipe Sergei found. Beautiful stones. Collectors would pay a premium rate for them," he added, with an upward inflection that suggested immense curiosity. "Uncut, of course, but it's the 'water' of the original carats that's important. Let someone else have the stress of cutting the stone to make the most out of it. Didn't think they'd be useful so we've been screening for industrials. The big stones are not something anyone here would want to spend colony credits on."
"Why? Could you put your hands on more?"
"Why? It was the Eosi who collected gemstones in the Catteni economy. I heard they were all gone."
"I wonder who'd want gemstones if now they're all gone." "Good question, Kris. Anyone got answers?"
"There were a few who hadn't come to the big Council and are still alive and free, somewhere in the galaxy. But I doubt they'd know where the others kept their proceeds."
"Would they put in an appearance where they could be caught?" Mike asked, surprised.
"Not likely. All I care about now is that the Barevian merchants will take what we have to offer in exchange for what we need. We'll sort out the ethics later."
"Well, caveat emptor, then."
Kris chuckled to hear Latin for the second time that morning. "Yes, indeed. Have you much gold?"
"Actually, we do. Bart Crispin was keen-eyed enough to spot some nuggets and flakes in one of the streams up here and we've had the devil's own time keeping everyone at work in the mine shafts. I let them go prospecting in the evening. Ain't much else exciting to do up here." "D'you speak any Catteni, Mike? Does anyone else up there? We might need to muster you for the aid of the party."
"New faces would be nice, even if they are Catteni bastards. In fact, you can put me on record as saying that if I could suss out what they are selling, I might be able to suggest other likely items to secure what we need."
"I'll tell Zainal of your willingness to be in the ransom party," she said, knowing that Mike would not be a prime candidate, though she might be doing him a disservice. He managed difficult miners hand-ily enough. If he could keep his temper, he might be an asset.
There was also the minor problem that she didn't think Barevi merchants would deal with a woman, beyond selling her food or fab-ric. She'd managed before only because she was in a Catteni uniform, disguised and bearing proof of her captain's authorization. She didn't care to be in disguise again unless it was absolutely vital.