"So me and Natchi was-"
"Were," Zainal corrected without thinking.
"Were-thank you-wondering if we had your permission to bring a few things, like basically sound lifts, back to the BASS-One and fix 'em?"
"I think that's a very good idea."
Then Ditsy added forthrightly, "Between what I get in my hand for running errands now and then, which Kris said I don't have to throw into the coffee bowl, me and Natchi can get some bargains. We could use a coupla more lifts back home, couldn't we?"
"In Botany?"
"Either Botany or Terra," was Ditsy's response.
"That's a very good idea, Ditsy, and you have my permission, in-deed my assistance, as well as my encouragement."
After that little chat, Ditsy was most often gone from the stall on pursuits of his own, and Ferris was looking for the toothless, to the point where running errands fell to Peran, Bazil, and Clune. Zainal was not so fond a father that he did not realize that it was his sons who complained about Ditsy and Ferris not doing their fair share.
It was not unusual to have to roust the boys from whatever dis-carded mechanical wonders they and Natchi were involved in to help bag beans for the next day's sales. And, to Zainal's momentary chagrin, Ditsy had to remind him about trading for new power packs. Ditsy said that, in point of fact, he needed several types.
"Natchi knows a great deal about machinery" Ditsy informed him, "and we got several things working real well but they need power packs. Are they like our old batteries?"
"The components are entirely different and the power more in-tensified."
Zainal was almost amused by Ditsy's careful separation of our as in Terran, and yours, as in Catteni. No harm in that since Ditsy was very careful about his manners in addressing any Barevian.
Two days after Ditsy and Natchi had successfully restored four lift panels, a young man appeared at BASS-1, asking to speak with Emassi Zainal. Natchi surveyed the man with shrewd eyes.
"Come from the hiring hall?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. A position for tutor is said to be still open."
Liking what he saw, for Natchi was a good judge of men, the old veteran gave him directions to Stall Ninety-two in the marketplace. Not long afterward, Zainal saw a tall young man coming directly toward him, a tentative smile on his face. Could this fellow be a po-tential tutor? Observing him carefully as he approached, Zainal saw that he walked like a pilot, with a buoyancy, like someone not quite accustomed to a lighter gravity and yet with the balanced stride of an athletic person.
"Are you Emassi Zainal?" he asked, coming directly to Zainal. "I understand that you are looking for a tutor?"
"I am," Zainal replied, looking the young man over.
"My name is Brone " He offered Zainal a firm hand and shake. He stood squarely on his feet but out of the main flow of those using the aisle. Nor did he draw aside when several shabbily dressed Catteni passed by, as some of the other passersby did, as if not wishing to be infected by the lesser ranks. Zainal did not wish for his sons to be taught by a judgmental personality. They had endured enough of that sort of mental bias at the hands of their relatives.
"Tell me something about yourself, Brone," Zainal said and mo-tioned for Kris to pour two cups of coffee. "And enjoy a cup of our coffee."
Brone reached into his belt pouch and withdrew several items: a sheet of paper, which turned out to be his educational background, neatly written, and an up-to-date license allowing the person (the ID picture was a slightly younger Brone) to pilot any inter-system craft. "I see you passed in your first attempt," Zainal said, studying the card.
"I reviewed old test runs and studied hard," Brone replied, at-tempting to belittle what had been a sensible notion.
"Would you consider the position of tutoring my sons until such time as you might move on to captain your own ship?"
Brone smiled, an unusual response between two Catteni who had just met.
"I doubt, in today's economic situation, that I will have much chance to pilot a ship. Also, you must realize that I can only teach what I already know," Brone said.
"Your duties might include flying, for which you would get credit."
A look of hungry hope flashed on the young man's face and was quickly controlled.
"1 want my sons to learn the basics and the protocols that every young Catteni must learn."
"That much I can teach, as well as navigational mathematics and port law," Brone said.
"You would not object to spending time on Botany?"
"I hear that it is a very beautiful planet, with a light gravity." Zainal chuckled. Born on a heavy world and physically adapted to the problem, it was amazing how every native Catteni dreamed of liv-ing on a light-gravity planet. Of course, their gravity-bred muscles then gave them more advantages over the indigenous species. It was one of the main reasons they had been able to overcome soldiers pit-ted against them in the invasion.
"My sons should not lose any more of their heritage," Zainal said. "We are leaving shortly, Brone, to return to Botany. My sons are standing over there by the two Terran women. Would you be able to join us at such short notice?"
"They are well-grown lads," Brone said noncommittally. "Peran is the elder and Bazil the younger."
Brone nodded. "I did not like my tutor." "Nor did I," Zainal admitted.
"They wish to be pilots like their father? I heard that you were a scout."
"They have shown interest but they are too young to know their own minds."
"I didn't at their ages," Brone admitted candidly. "I had no option," Zainal remarked.
"I heard that you were unable to answer your Eosi call."
That was a polite way of putting the matter, Zainal thought. And it also indicated that Brone had done some discreet questioning about him as a possible employer.
"I had been dropped on Botany at that point," Zainal replied with equal candor, holding the young man's steady gaze, though not telling the whole truth of the affair, which was no one's business. Zainal still had no clue as to who had included a Catteni in that hapless load of unwilling colonists.
"Which appears to have been felicitous," Brone replied diplomat-ically.
Zainal found that he liked the candidate's appearance, attitude, and answers. He saw Natchi coming in the back of the stall and nod-ding encouragingly. He saw Kris looking over at the close conversa-tion they were having and decided on one last test of the candidate and beckoned her to join them.
"This is my mate, Kris Bjornsen, Emassi Brone," he said, and the young man acknowledged the introduction with a respectful bow. "Lady Emassi Kris, it is my pleasure to meet you."
"Oh?" Kris drawled, slightly amused that he knew her by rank. Brone bowed again. "I knew one of the families you sheltered on Botany. They spoke highly of you and were delighted with your rank award."
"Did they?" Kris replied, astonished, for the Catteni ladies had not been at all appreciative of her efforts during their stay on Botany. "Come, Brone, I shall introduce you to my sons. Then, if you have no objection, we can quarter you on the BASS-1. They can help you bring your belongings."
"What text and study books do you have on the ship, Emassi?" "Few, and no more than is usually carried on a KDM." Zainal scooped up what Catteni coins were in the coffee bowl and pressed them on Brone. "Find what you want to use from the secondhand bookstall. Spend as you see fit. You will be the one teaching. I shall re-imburse you for any extra you spend. This evening we can discuss study subjects and hours at our leisure."