"That was lovely," Floss said with a replete sigh. "Human cooking."
"We ate well enough with the Masai," Clune said, almost embarrassed by her remark.
"There was always enough," Ditsy blurted out, as if the quantity was far more important than the quality. Then he glanced at Clune as if he regretted having spoken.
"There were plenty of times we didn't have enough in DC, Floss," Clune said with quiet authority.
"Oh, we did well enough in the Washington kip," Floss said with an airy shrug. "You guys were good scroungers, and Jerry could make nothing taste like something!" She gave a sigh for "times past."
"I've always preferred to eat regular," Ferris added, speaking al-most for the first time. He had a very husky voice and there was an old scar along his throat. Kris resolved to have Dane check all of them over before they were enlisted for this mission. They probably needed to be wormed: Kris squirmed at the thought.
"'Scuse me, ma'am," Ferris went on, his brown eyes troubled, "but does anyone know who's left on Earth?"
"You had family there, Ferris?" Kris asked.
"Think they escaped the roundup but I don't know. Any way I can find out?"
"We've some survivor lists, Ferris, and a long one from the DC area. We can check for you later. What about you, Floss?"
She gave an indifferent shrug. "Knowing my father, they'd've survived in fine style. Somehow, somewhere."
Clune leveled a stern glance at her. "You used to worry about your mother and your sisters."
"Oh"he twitched her right shoulder-"I did but I had to give that up as a lost job, didn't I?"
"You do know not to walk about at night, don't you?" Kris asked. "Sure do. Never want that to happen to me," Floss said in a more subdued tone and grimaced at the notion. Night crawlers were indigenous creatures on Botany that would attack anything animal, or human, in the night and ingest them. "Thought there weren't as many night crawlers up north."
"You do know to stamp a lot at night if you are caught off the stone paths?" Zainal continued. And all six kids nodded solemnly. "You boys can stay in the ship but I'm locking everything else down. I don't want anyone flying off on us."
"Emassi Zainal," Clune began formally, "what exactly did we volunteer for?"
"Translating Catteni into English and English into Catteni," Zainal replied. "And a little grunt work. The rest I'll explain when we get to Barevi and when you need to know"
"Oh, the old need-to-know routine," Clune said with a long-suffering sigh.
Zainal laughed and clapped him so firmly on the shoulder that, sturdy as he was, Clune rocked on the bench. "And now, boys, come with me," and he urged them all out the door and toward Baby.
Without being asked, Floss rose and started clearing off the table, taking the dirty plates and utensils to the sink. She turned on the faucet and crowed with delight. "Hot water!"
"Yes, we have all the comforts of home."
"Would you also have a shower? And maybe some shampoo?" Floss asked in a hushed voice, a look on her face of such keen anticipation that Kris felt all the more guilty for having forgotten the girl.
"Yes, but I think you'd better shower first and quickly. Zainal likes a wash in the evening, and we don't have quite enough water for two long showers and the dishes, too. Come with me." Kris paused only long enough to get a towel out of the cupboard and some shampoo-homemade though it was-from another cupboard before leading Floss to the shower room.
"Oh, if you knew how I've dreamed of this," Floss murmured, stripping off the wraparound garment.
"I'll have to get you some clothes tomorrow but for now I have only a clean, spare jumpsuit, Floss." Kris retrieved one from the closet as well as a spare leather belt, which the slender Floss might need around the much too ample waistband. "Nothing I own would fit you."
"Yes'm," Floss replied courteously and without a touch of sarcasm. Somehow, Floss contrived to give the utilitarian garment an air of style.
"You wouldn't have a scarf or anything," she asked as she reappeared in the main room. "It's kind of bare up here," and she touched her throat.
Kris had never cared much about fashion but she could see that a scarf of some sort of color would reduce the uniform look and also draw attention to Floss's bosom, which was certainly ample and push ing against the confines of the dull fabric. She wondered if there were any brassieres in the main commissary. With the ratio of four men to one woman, this nubile girl could be at risk. Maybe that was the real reason Floss had wanted to be released from the Masai encampment, where females were zealously guarded until a marriage had been arranged for them. Albeit Kris wouldn't have agreed to her being wed to an elderly man, she didn't want her to whore around Retreat either.
Zainal's appraisal of Floss, now clean with her blond hair gleaming in the last of the daylight coming in the window, only consoli-dated Kris's observation.
"Did the boys settle down?" Kris asked, opening a neutral topic. Zainal grinned. "Being allowed to sleep in a scout?" He gave an indulgent laugh. "They are excited but Clune said he'd listen for them. He's more than able to handle them."
"Clune is respected among his age-set with the Masai," Floss said with a little smirk, as if she denied that status. "But he's worked a lot with both Peran and Bazil and they will obey him. This elder stuff works with impressionable boys." She shot Zainal an inquiring look. "It is a Catteni attitude," Zainal said in his language, and she in-clined her head to show that she understood him.
"I have put out an extra blanket for you, Floss," Kris said, wanting to be private with Zainal. "It is much colder up here than it is in the south."
The girl yawned and stretched, an action that showed off her lithe body in the jumpsuit.
"Oh, I'll survive," she remarked and sauntered, again with sway-ing hips, over to the cots. "It'll be such a relief to have a place to my-self, with no one snoring or shouting in nightmares." She gave Kris a smile and picked up the spare blanket, to flip it deftly across the bed. "Even a mattress. A great luxury, I assure you."
Somehow she managed to make slipping into the cot a volup-tuous action. Zainal grinned and turned his back on her, walking toward their bedroom. Kris waved a good night and followed him.
"We'll have trouble with that girl," she murmured when she closed the door behind her.
"Trouble's name is Clune," Zainal said. "He made it clear to me that he considers her, and her behavior, his business."
They were both tired, and although Zainal took a quick shower, muttering about lukewarm water, Kris wondered if Floss's presence in their living room had something to do with her own inhibitions, for she made no attempt to entice Zainal into her arms and he was equally reserved. Well, they needed the sleep.
A loud and eerie ululation woke them both the next morning. Zainal was on his way to the door before Kris stopped him, pointing to his naked body. He cursed but stopped long enough to don his trousers before he exited. She dressed more slowly and was relieved when Zainal poked his head into the room.
"It seems the Masai keep to daylight hours and it is daylight!" She finished dressing and found that Floss and Zainal had put bread, cheese, and fruit on the table. Zainal called the boys in. Clime looked clean and neat and must have found the nearby stream for his hair was still wet. Peran and Bazil must have bathed also, for their faces were fresh and the fringes of their hair damp. Ferris needed to shave and Ditsy could have used a shower. There wouldn't be much hot water yet as the solar panels hadn't been recharged, but she wanted them all cleaned up before they went up to the main buildings.
Before they took off for Barevi, they would have to get some suit-able clothing for Floss and the boys, who were wearing only the minimum required for Masai modesty. Breechclouts would not be acceptable on Barevi. If they wished to be seriously considered as negotiators, they had to look more presentable. This whole ransom business meant that Zainal would have to suspend his plan to seek out the Farmers' home world, or at least whatever depot they used to store the grain and the meat they farmed on Botany. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he would be denied that opportunity. However, it was only spring here and the Farmers' cargo containers did not come until after the fall harvest. He had some time to spare. And his plans for Botany, and the repatriation of Terran slaves, were certainly as important to him, she knew, as his somewhat grandiose and quite possibly dangerous scheme to track the Farmers' vehicle to its destination. She did wonder, as Zainal did, why the Farmers, with their advanced robotechnology, needed so much pro-duce. She sighed. Every time she thought she understood a lot, she came smack up against something else unknown, tantalizing, unfamiliar, and, she sighed again, more than likely very dangerous.