Surely the Farmers would have had to have the means to supply themselves on any one of a number of Botany-type planets. Since the Eosi and Catteni had already explored neighboring space, surely they would have come across some vestige of the Farmers' culture. She wondered if indeed the Eosi had and merely kept the knowledge secret. Having secrets made people feel superior and secure. Or perhaps Human frailties were not part of Eosian characteristics. They certainly had extended their life spans by subsuming young hosts. For years, Humans had been investigating the possibility of cloning to sustain characteristics and supply body parts that would not be rejected in transplant. She shuddered. She could not, in conscience, go along with that. There was a reason for a life to have a span, predestined or not. How she would feel if she needed new organs to remain alive, she didn't know as she herself enjoyed vigorous health.
She caught the almost proprietary look on Clune's face as Floss swanned up to him, offering him more bread. Yes, she would have to speak to Dane about this young couple. She had no doubts at all, from the expression on Floss's face that she cared very much for the young African-American man. It had been at Floss's instigation that her Diplomatic group had practiced birth control when they'd been running loose and free after the invasion. The same contingencies were not now in force but discretion was required until after the ransom negotiations were concluded. That is, if the youngsters proved as valuable as she thought they probably were, considering the success of the covert operations that had kept them free when most of the pop-ulace had been rounded up and carted off on Cattem slave ships. That might have been just luck but this mission needed that in quantity.
Chapter Three
Everyone at Retreat pretended to be pleased to see Floss, approving the change in the girl from the intransigent, loud-mouthed brat of her first introduction to Botany. She was not overly enthusiastic about the garments produced for her to wear at the stores house. Most of the women had been making their own blouses and dresses out of the fabric and accessories that Kris had brought back from Barevi. Kris had to admit that utilitarian was not the style a girl Floss's age would appreciate, but she was offered fabric to make her own clothing, patterns, and even the use of the one sewing machine that Retreat owned.
"I learned how to sew skins together," Floss said with some con-tempt, "not how to cut and fit them. I wouldn't want to waste good material."
That won her some points with the stores keeper, who was a good seamstress, and Kris saw the two in conversation and hoped some-thing would materialize. A girl in her teens as attractive as Floss would certainly want something pretty and well fitting to wear. Someone did produce a silk scarf for her and she spent time in front of a mir-ror deciding how to tie and drape it-her longing for pretty and be-coming things quite obvious to others in the room.
Beth Isbell offered to trim her hair, which Floss instantly accepted. "You don't happen to have a conditioner, do you? I had to use a very strong soap at Masai camp and it's just ruined my hair."
"We do have an herbal rinse that will help," Beth said. "A local herb but much like rosemary-it brings out the sheen."
"Oh, that would be marvelous. I almost hate touching my hair, it's so brittle and dry."
"It works with mine," Beth said, fluffing out her blond hair, sun-streaked but shiny with health. "C'mon. The shower water should be hot. I'll shampoo and trim it, and it will be much improved."
"Oh, thank you very much," Floss said, showing a genuine warmth and enthusiasm.
"Why did you bring that renegade back?" Sally Stoffers asked in a discreetly low voice when they had left.
"She speaks Catteni and so do that gang of hers." "She's a troublemaker, born and bred!"
Kris turned, almost defensively, to Sally, who also was a Catteni-speaker. "Zainal's option. Remember, those kids survived in the post-invasion turmoil, so they were either very lucky or very clever. Clune, the oldest boy, has negotiated and bartered with Catteni before and we will desperately need that type of experience. How are you at driving bargains?"
"She seems more biddable but she's a flirt, that one," Sally repeated, her tone and expression spiteful.
"Clune will watch out for her," Kris replied firmly and began folding the new clothing that would constitute Floss's improved underwear. She didn't think they would find any purloined clothing in the Barevi stores but perhaps there would be some. The Catteni had been magpies as to what they loaded on board their cargo ships. When she was nineteen, she had wanted to look well dressed at college so she appreciated Floss's lack of interest in long-wearing, sturdy work garments. The scarf would be treasured. She had noticed how Floss had run it through her work-hardened hands, savoring the feel of the silk. A sapphire blue would look very well on Floss, and Kris tried to recall the bolts she had seen, of silk and satin, the last time she was on Barevi. But then, she hadn't had Floss in mind when she'd bought fabric. Well, they'd have a look with Floss in mind while they were there this time. Who knows who would trade fabric for gold? She wished she knew what was most in demand at Barevi. Maybe Chuck could remember something. Gold teeth were simply not enough of an "inducement." What they needed was a real crowd-gatherer: something that even the most conservative of the Catteni would not ignore. Would kill to have!
Leaving Floss in Beth's hands and saying that she could be found in the mess hall, Kris went for a cup of coffee. The work roster, prominently located as one entered the mess hall, listed her as assigned to Zainal's mission with no concurrent duties. Their latest recruits had been listed at the bottom as being part of the Barevi team. She was glad that she didn't have to sign Floss up for mess hall duties-at least not immediately. Maybe by the time they returned from Barevi, Floss would be more willing to take her turn at the less glamorous duties. Even KP would be more appealing than marital duties to an old man.
As she entered the big room, she glanced around and saw Eric, hunched over printouts. She waved at him, indicating a wish to join him and he nodded vigorously. She got her one cup of the rationed coffee, some fresh rolls, inhaling the aroma of the drink and fresh bread. She also wondered how much longer this treat would be avail-able and if they could possibly search out additional supplies, possibly as trade goods since the Catteni had come to appreciate the caffeine hit. How many coffee beans and/or cups of the brew would buy a carton of stolen goods? She wondered, not for the first time, if the merchants had set any value on the cartons of spare parts they were now trying to sell. She had seen such a diversity of goods on display on her last trip. Surely not all of them-toasters and electric frying pans-were viable on Barevi. Much less automotive parts and spark plugs. Well, you never knew what would capture another species' in-terest. Certainly not the Catteni, who now evidently prized coffee, chocolate, and gold caps. Did any of them realize how easily they had picked up Terran vices like coffee? She smiled at the notion of the conquerors corrupted.