"Good. I'll grab a shower and change. Oh, and I got some crew with me." He looked over his shoulder at the open ramp of the KDL. "In-service training but boy, do they know their stuff. Of course, they should. Many of 'em are ex-NASA." Chuck's grin was broader. "Brought more than I needed for the KDs but we do have other ships." He gestured to the ones parked on the field. "They learn real quick and I had space available." He turned and called, "Olly-olly in free. Welcome to Botany, guys and gals."
Out filed a line of men and women looking very smart in flight gear. They made a double row in front of Chuck, who was still grin-ning from ear to ear.
"Sir, Excellent Emassi Zainal, Botany airforce recruits reporting for duty" said the man who took two steps forward toward Zainal and saluted smartly. "Sam Maddocks, with eight volunteers, all with flight and space hours. Not many of the latter but we stood shifts with Sergeant Mitford on the way here!"
"Delighted to have you on board, Colonel Maddocks " The colonel stiffened his spine still further as Zainal used his appropriate rank, having noticed the silver maple leaf on his collar.
How Zainal had learned to differentiate rank insignia and the service forms Kris didn't know, but it stood him in good stead now. "What a beautiful planet you got dumped on, sir."
"Luck, Colonel, sheer luck! This is Kris Bjornsen, my mate, and these are my sons, Peran and Bazil. Clune, Ferris, and Ditsy, who will be accompanying us to Barevi on a shopping mission. We may need your services to accomplish the mission."
"Anything we can do, we will, sir."
"I am known as Zainal, Colonel, not sir. Now, if you will intro-duce me to the rest of your group, we'll take you back to the main settlement and find you quarters."
"We don't mind staying on board, Zainal, if there is any shortage of space. The sergeant said that things are pretty basic here."
"There are people you should meet, Colonel, and we will have a lot to discuss and plans to make."
"Yes, Zainal." With a perfect about-face, he marched to the first person in the line behind him, a woman.
"Captain Jacqueline Kiznet, sir, with twenty-five hours of flight time on F-122s. She was to be mission pilot on the Mars 10 Supply Rocket. Captain Kiznet has had training in the KDL series and stood five watches as duty officer on our inbound flight."
"Captain Kiznet, my pleasure," Zainal said, shaking her hand and returning her salute. She was medium tall, dark-haired, with a pleas-ant face and a twinkling eye.
"Captain Katherine Harvey also made herself familiar with the KDL and the KDM specs, did simulations on both in flight and was duty engineer." The captain was a tall redhead, with freckles on her nose and cheeks and a decidedly reserved manner about her.
"Lieutenant Gail Sullivan is a communications expert and has flu-ent Catteni." Sullivan had short blond hair, a stunned expression on her face, and was small beside the tall captain.
Zainal clasped the lieutenant's hand with vigor. "Welcome to Botany, Emassi, and are you familiar with docking and parking proto-cols?" he asked in Catteni.
"I listened to all the tapes on board the KDL, Zainal, and feel con-fident that I can park or dock the vessel at any space facility," Gail re-sponded in Catteni, her alto voice managing to growl in a respectable accent.
"In fact," Maddocks interposed, "she has already done so at Barevi " "Very good, very good indeed."
Perhaps it was only Kris who noticed the tension easing in Zainal's face and shoulders as he moved on to the next man, one who had the squint of someone accustomed to peering at small print or monitor screens. "Lieutenant Ed Douglas here can even read Catteni."
"You are able to read Catteni?" Zainal asked in the language. "Slowly, sir, but I am also working on a Catteni-English glossary of technical terms, which I feel will be extremely useful."
"It will, it will. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Douglas," Zainal said, pumping his hand with considerable vigor. Kris had to fight to keep her face straight.
"I'm apt to be slow with the really technical stuff, but ordinary messages are a snap." He emphasized this by snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Mullinax, astrogator, and Lieutenant Mpatane Cummings, also communications, sir, and both are fluent in Catteni. Last but not least, Major Alexander McColl, the most senior pilot."
"Where on earth did you find them, Chuck?" Zainal asked, though his delight was now apparent.
"There, on Earth, of course, sitting on their duffs, trying to decide if they could find some sort of a job. Airplane fuel is a low priority, you see, consequently most pilots are jobless. Gasoline/petrol is strictly rationed and goes mainly to ambulance or emergency vehicles. What airplane fuel is left in airport tanks goes to search-and-rescue copters, but I hate to see good resources like these sitting idle. You know me." Chuck gave one of his cryptic shrugs, implying any waste was intolerable. "And they wouldn't sit still long enough to be painted. Besides, I knew we had the birds but not the fliers. 'Course, they'll have to be checked out but they're right willing."
"Your timing is excellent, as usual, Sergeant."
"I also brought you two top flight mechanics, Dutch Liendgens and Dirk Fuhrman. They might not know much Catteni," he added, gesturing for the two men to come forward, "but they sure know their communications stuff and my 'friend' at JPL says they'd know inventory, too, for all the big manufacturers-like Teledyne and Motorola-and they also have some clues as to the very high-tech stuff JPL and NASA were experimenting with for the Mars Base. Mainly, they can help us service the KDs."
"Is the Mars Base still operational?"
"And manned." When someone behind him cleared her throat, Chuck added, "And womaned. Their gardens have been well wear-tested. Oxygen and food."
"That'll be good news to spread," Zainal said.
"The invaders were so smart they forgot to cut the Atlantic phone lines. And, as I'm told, most comm techs managed to hide the more important elements when they realized they were under attack from space. Those units are coming back into use as more power plants come on-line. Hell, in some places, like Kansas, they're using wind-mills to generate power. Hawaii and California are damned glad they have the wind farms.
"I got a lot more to tell you but maybe we better get the new crews organized, Zainal."
Zainal slapped Chuck across the back, displaying his delight in this surprise. "Welcome to Botany, ALL of you!" he added, throwing both arms open in the most expansive gesture, his mouth wide in a smile. "This way to Retreat."
"Retreat?"
"Don't worry," Chuck said, "it's not a fallback place. It's a come-to."
"Lead on: and our chariot awaits!" Zainal added as Jerry Short arrived, driving the commodious pickup sled.
"Hey, neat, Zainal," Sam Maddocks said. "Ground transport. Pile in."
"Pile" was nearly the right word, since all the newly accepted members of the Botany Space Force vaulted or jumped neatly onto the wide truck bed. Kris was hauled up by two of the lieutenants and decided that this bunch were all fit. She wondered if any of them had been trained in hand-to-hand combat. That would be handy, she thought, especially for the women. Maybe they could teach her some good self-defense moves. She was beginning to feel better about this ransom mission. The Council would have to agree especially now they had reinforcements. She spotted Zainal talking amiably to the astrogator and the tall, willowy Mpatane comm lieutenant. Then he burst out laughing at something the woman said, which had everyone who overheard reacting with glee.
By the time Jerry reached the main building, someone had warned them because there was a crowd waiting, everyone wanting answers to their shouted questions.
Zainal stood and held up his hands "More reason to be sure you attend tonight's meeting, my friends. Right now, we have some tac-tics to plan. Okay?"