Freedom's Ransom Part 10

He motioned Kathy to one side and the pair engaged in a spirited conversation with many gestures on Wendell's part while Kathy listened, Kris thought, with far less reserve than she usually showed. Wendell was a personable-looking man and obviously well versed in his speciality. At least, Kathy looked impressed.

'Keeps us in contact real good,' Vitali said approvingly. 'Now you guys want to go into Manhattan and grab the doc's stuff, right? It's essential to this operation of yours on Barevi, right? Aside from the issues of wear, tear and personnel, what sort of a vehicle had you in mind?'

'Any sort of truck will do. Pickup, if you have one.'

Vitali gave a little snort. 'Even one with good tyres. You're in luck. So that's the transport and you'll need a guide and some guards, unless you have weapons.' He cast a wary glance at Zainal. 'And I don't mean those nerve whips either, Catteni.'

'We will need your guides, and your guards for we have no weapons, but we're not defenceless,' Zainal replied, though he held up his big hand and made a sizeable fist.

Vitali cleared his throat.

'We have more wheat, if that can be tossed in to sweeten the pot,' Kris offered.

'That's a sure enough sweetener, little lady, being as it will feed everyone, and a full stomach makes people easier to live with. Okay, Zainal, you got a deal, a truck, guide and guard and my safe conduct for you tomorrow. Night's not a good time for going through the tunnel anyway, to mention only one hazard.'

'The Lincoln Tunnel?' Kris exclaimed.

'Yes, ma'am, that and the Holland are the only ways to get to the island. No fuel for ferries, though they may start commandeering pleasure boats soon,' Vitali said in the greatest of good humour. 'We'd be pleased for you to join us for a meal here.'

'We wouldn't want to deprive you,' Kris said, having seen the dismay on several faces when Vitali made his offer. 'We have enough rations on board and we wouldn't want to tap more of your resources than absolutely necessary.' Particularly, she thought to herself, if it takes more of our raw ores.

'You'll sleep on board then?' Vitali asked, beaming appreciatively.

'Yes, and be ready to move out whenever you have made the arrangements. We do need to replenish our water tanks.'

'Water's still available - and guaranteed,' Vitali said. 'I'll have to check with the coords involved, as a matter of courtesy and for your security, but I can set up the transport personally,' he said, so convincingly that Zainal nodded.

'If you've someone to take charge of the metal ingots, we can unload them tonight,' Zainal said, showing goodwill.

'Our pleasure, I a.s.sure you,' Vitali said. Then he gathered several of his officers around him and gave quick, low, confident orders. The men left to obey them.

Coffee and business finished, Zainal stood, ready to make delivery of the ingots however much he might have wanted to hold such commodities back to trade on Barevi. Kathy asked to bring John Wendell on board to look at the comm sat, which Zainal thought a good idea.

'Fine-looking lads, Zainal. They yours?' Vitali asked, rising to his feet.

Zainal nodded and introduced his sons. Bazil and Peran made courteous bows and offered limp hands to the coord, who smiled benignly at them.

'Got one about the same age,' Vitali said. 'If you've got two on board for the trip, I've another I can lend you: my grandson. For the good of our relationship, of course.'

'If we were returning directly to Botany, that would be a possibility, Coord Vitali, but we go on to Barevi, and that is not a place I would suggest a young Terran visit right now. My sons travel with us for tutoring there.' Bazil and Peran regarded their father with such shock that Vitali grinned.

'I see.' There was regret in Coord Vitali's voice but he concluded the visit with a firm handshake, and the two groups separated.

'A tutor, Father?' Bazil began as they started back down the stairs to the ground level.

'A tutor, Bazil,' Zainal said so firmly that the boys bowed their heads in rueful acceptance.

'Oh, and Zainal, have no worries about your ship's safety while here on the ground,' Vitali said, pausing in the doorway of the VIP suite. 'We have an excellent perimeter security. Sleep well and soundly.'

'We're obliged,' Zainal said, winking at Chuck, who grinned back. There was no real chance that anyone could break into the KDM. She had good external security devices, too.

5.

Once outside, a truck kept pace with them. As they neared the ship, Zainal opened the ship's comm unit to alert Gino to their return. The ramp was extended and Gino and the rest of the crew framed the open hatch as they watched the return of their crewmen. Kris noticed the pessimism on Zainal's face as he cycled the cargo holds to the one containing their metal ingots. He must have been wishing he hadn't said anything about having ores, but she felt paying for a convoy to safely acquire Eric's equipment was worth the swap. Botany did not produce much ore but the deposits were high quality. At least she thought the miners would object less to losing copper, zinc, tin and lead even though in some instances those ores were far more useful than gold, silver or platinum. Nevertheless, she could see how it pained Zainal to hand over the ingots and how eagerly Vitali's men received them.

Kris did not seek her bed yet. She was still absorbing the import of their interview with Vitali and other, less obvious information that she had gathered. Earth's victory was a hollow one, despite evidence of recovery. The rock squats had been worth their weight in any metal, and while they still had a few trays to spare, fresh bread might be useful to have on hand for goodwill and any unexpected 'fees'. She hauled another sack of flour out of the supply locker and mixed up a triple batch of bread dough. It could rise overnight, have another quick rise as rolls, which would be easier to distribute than loaves, and be ready for their journey.

Kathy was still in heavy conference with John Wendell, who was almost drooling over the comm sat in the cargo hold. She was listening avidly to his remarks, jotting down notes and looking all too bright-eyed, Kris thought, and not the least bit reserved.

Kris was grateful to fall asleep once she hit her bunk, and answered Zainal's sleepy muttered 'Who's there?' with a kiss, which sent him back to sleep with a smile on his face. She hated to be roused by the alarm the next morning but rose and flicked it off before the noise woke him. It was fair. He often let her have an extra half hour. In the galley, she started the big oven and punched down the dough, deftly separating it into convenient rolls before she made the morning's breakfast of boiled groats. She wondered if it would be hard to find cinnamon and maybe raisins somewhere in Manhattan. She had often longed for a Danish at breakfast.

It was the smell of baking bread that got folk out of their beds before the official Klaxon sounded.

Everyone was dressed and ready when the security sensors beeped a proximity alert. Chuck greeted those who arrived in a battered pickup truck. He eyed the load bed but it looked long enough to hold Eric's equipment. He also tossed in a coil of rope on top of the two lift platforms, which he and Clune carefully loaded, ignoring questions from the curious guards.

The truck had a wide front seat, which Zainal and Kris took. She was seated next to the driver, careful to keep her backpack full of rolls from being crushed against the battered dashboard. She was aware that the driver's pistol dug into her left hip and eased her b.u.t.tocks slightly to the right. The smell of freshly baked bread vied with the smells of oil, diesel fuel and unwashed bodies. As surrept.i.tiously as possible, she held the pack closer to her nose. Then a final pa.s.senger wedging himself next to Zainal slammed her back into the driver's holster. The door was closed only because someone outside the truck gave it a good push.

'Sorry about the squeeze,' the latecomer said, 'but I'm Jelco, your official guide on this tour of New Manhattan.' He nodded amiably at Zainal and Kris. 'Driver's Murray. He don't talk much but he's a good driver. We were lucky to get him for this job. I believe he claims he knows every hole in every avenue and street in the city.'

Courteously Kris nodded to her left and was startled by a toothless grin. She wondered if he knew he was driving a dentist to his old office. She also wondered if he could enjoy the nice crunchy bread they had in their backpacks. Murray hadn't so much as glanced at the backpack she held in her lap but he must have smelled the bread because his nostrils flared every now and then and he had to lick his lips frequently. Salivating, possibly.

The smell of fresh bread had its own magic.

'Dover and Wylee are our guards, case you wanted to know. Good men.'

Which was what Kris hoped they would prove to be.

'We'll have Kejas and Potts through the tunnel. They're actually the Midtown Coords men this week. They wear red bands.' He pointed to the Kelly green one on his upper arm. 'We do a week on, a week off tunnel duty.' Zainal nodded.

There were very few people around as Murray drove slowly out of Newark Airport, its vast parking lots empty, except for a few burned-out autos. Then Murray pulled out onto a three-lane highway. Along the weedy verge of the highway, damaged bushes and trees were showing growth with new sprouts, and the occasional forsythia had some blooms. Shortly they turned again, off the turnpike onto the approach to the Lincoln Tunnel. Signs had been torn down but the wide highway, though pocked with gravel-filled holes, was empty except for their pickup and a cart full of what looked like potato sacks to Kris, laboriously drawn by two raggedly dressed men. The wheels were not pneumatic but wooden, rimmed by metal, and the axle squealed for lack of lubrication. Three small boys, walking behind the cart, eyed the truck. From the dirt on their faces, Kris wondered if they had dug the potatoes that were in the cart.

The New Jersey entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel had never been a prime residential area in its heyday and certainly looked war torn now, the high sidewalls full of pockmarks. Other types of debris, probably from fighting to protect the tunnel approach, had been pushed to one side, leaving two lanes of the once six-lane approach clear, one on either side of the dividing parapet.

'Heavy fighting?' she asked, unnerved by the desolation, and needing to talk.

Murray nodded. 'Only good midtown access to the island, ma'am, and had to be defended.' To the last man? she wondered.

'Hmmm, well done,' she said, noncommittally. And then the road on the left was free of the bombed buildings. This road had always provided a breathtaking view of New York City, as it swept around in a long right hand curve to the tollbooths and the actual tunnel faces. But the view of New York was vastly changed from her recollection of it. It was as if all the buildings had somehow been blunted. Oh, the Chrysler and the Empire State buildings were still standing, but others, including the Radio City complex, looked as if they'd been sliced off. The once proud city had gaps in its fabled silhouette. They travelled down towards the huge entrance plaza, swinging past tollbooths that had been shattered into rubble. Pieces of burned-out vehicles had, as on the approach roads, been pushed to the sides but gave mute testimony to the fierceness of attack and defence.

'And to think I once griped about waiting in the lines,' Jelco remarked. Then armed men appeared from a galvanized shed, tucked under the shadow of the eastbound tunnel entrance. Murray slowed to a stop and turned off the engine, reaching for a sheaf of papers that had been tucked behind the eyeshade. Jelco swung down from the truck's cab and strode to the approaching guards, whose weapons were slung over their shoulders. Jelco had a slip of paper in his hand that Kris thought was decorated with seals and Kelly green ribbons. Jelco had an earnest conversation with a guard, showing him the paper, while a dour man who reeked of sweat was thumbing through Murray's papers. The breeze was unfortunately coming across him and into the truck cab. Evidently soap and deodorant were no longer available.

'Would you like some fresh rolls?' Kris asked nervously and held one up for the man to see. She thought for a moment that the rest of his squad would rush the truck but the man with Jelco issued a sharp order and they moderated to a swift walk. She handed Murray the rolls to pa.s.s around and noticed that he dropped one into his own lap, though how he would manage without teeth, she didn't know. He simply tore a piece off the roll and popped it into his mouth, his eyes widening with appreciation at the taste.

'Thanks, miss,' said the first guard, tipping his fingers in a salute. He pa.s.sed rolls out to the rest of his unit.

'Klaus?' he yelled, attracting his leader's attention, and lofted a roll, which Klaus neatly hooked out of the air. 'Sorry, ma'am, but a search is required. Becky, front and centre,' he yelled over his shoulder, and a woman soldier quickly advanced.

Kris had never been frisked before but, considering what she had seen on the tunnel's environs, she had no intention of protesting against such a security measure. Klaus gestured for Zainal to step out so he could be checked over, too.

'She's clean,' Becky said after a fairly cursory feel of Kris's arms and legs, back and waist. Kris offered her a roll. 'Thank you. Ain't had fresh-baked bread in ages.' She bit into it with an almost savage gusto and chewed vigorously, nodding her approval. In all, a dozen rolls had been pa.s.sed out before Kris was waved back into the truck. She was glad she'd made the offer, judging by the happy expressions on the tunnel guards' faces and the appreciative thumbs-up gestures as the truck was allowed to roll into the eastbound tube.

'I'm Wylee,' said a small man who came back to the truck with Jelco. 'Tunnel squad. Just wanted to rea.s.sure you that the fans have been circulating the bad air out. You got anyone in your group who's asthmatic or has respiratory problems?' He looked at Kris as he spoke, trying to ignore Zainal's solid Catteni form.

'None I know of., 'Well, the air in the middle of the tunnel ain't exactly one hundred per cent unpolluted, ma'am. Anybody has any problem, call me, huh? We got respirators.' He motioned to the backpack he was wearing. His expression suggested that he didn't want to use them unless he absolutely had to. Oxygen was still free, wasn't it? Kris thought, feeling almost rebellious. She did not really know what those left on Earth had had to face so she swallowed the smart rejoinder. She felt the tilt of the truck as those in the back hauled up Wylee.

As Murray was waved to proceed into the left-hand tunnel, she had more to concern her. She wasn't claustrophobic but she really didn't like the idea of all the water over her head, and looked at the cream-tiled walls of the tunnel to see any signs of lack of maintenance. She didn't know what to look for - but cracks or moisture staining the walls would be obvious signs. Yet if this was one of the only accesses to New York City from the mainland, it would behove them to keep it in good repair.

She was somewhat surprised to see a huge dumpster at the entrance and noticed that there were bits of cement and odd pieces of metal jutting from it. Then the truck swerved to the right and she saw the burned-out cha.s.sis of a car on the left. This was not the last wreck she was to see in the tunnel. Few had been burned out but all had been stripped down to the cha.s.sis.

'Recycling,' Murray said around a mouthful of his roll.

'We'll get the junk out of the tunnel one of these years,' Jelco said cheerfully. 'And sometimes, when we have a group coming through, we get them to hump a cha.s.sis out for us.'

When they were out of sight of the tunnel entrance she saw that the raised walkway along the inner side of the tunnel had been damaged, though most of the cement and tiles had been cleaned away from the break.

'That's as far in as the invaders got,' Jelco said, point ing to where the damage ended with a hint of pride. 'But then,' and he cast a quick glance at Zainal, 'Catteni don't like being underground, do they?'

There was a look on his face that suggested he'd hoped to see Zainal react.

'True enough,' Zainal said with complete composure. 'You did well to fight off Catteni soldiers. No other species has been able to.'

'So I heard,' Jelco replied amiably.

That exchange seemed to please both partic.i.p.ants and the rest of the journey, past other cars stripped to the bare bones of their cha.s.sis, pa.s.sed without remarks. Kris had to keep reminding herself that Wylee had said the air had been circulated so she must be imagining the stink, but the stench of petrol, oil and burned tyres was heavy enough to keep her taking shallow breaths to keep her lungs as uncontaminated as possible by the stale air. Shipboard air got to smell stale, too, but this tunnel was rank with ancient odours.

'Nearly there, ma'am,' Jelco murmured rea.s.suringly. She was undeniably relieved to see more light on the tunnel tiles.

She smiled, turning her head in an almost regal nod in his direction. She would be glad to fill her lungs with clean air again. Then the truck drove up out of the tunnel. Debris from the old Port Authority Building was tumbled around the exit; she inhaled and wished she hadn't for there was a stench of rot and garbage that almost made the tunnel's air seem sweet. Two huge dumpsters were on either side of the exit, filled almost to capacity with debris that had been cleared from the tunnel. Maybe they should have used the lifts and brought out more, like one of the car bodies. But Zainal had mentioned that the floats had only so much power in their batteries and he had no spares to replace them with.

Then they had to go through a second security check, and Kris pa.s.sed out the rest of the rolls she had in her backpack. Again the ident.i.ty papers were shown, and Wylee swung out of the truck and went to confer with the squad leaders, beaming as he pa.s.sed out the rolls to grateful Manhattan recipients.

'Green for go,' he said, coming to the window. 'Roll away, Murray.' He added a grandiose gesture for the driver. Murray grinned, crumbs of the roll he had eaten visible on his gums, and shifted into first gear, ignoring the complaints from the transmission. She hoped the truck would last to bring the heavy dental equipment back.

The truck rolled up the curved road at Forty-first and onto Tenth Avenue.

'I can detour up Broadway so you can see Times Square,' Murray offered. 'Won't take much gas.'

'I think not, thank you, Murray,' Kris responded. She had seen that landmark once when her family had come east for a wedding, and she vaguely remembered the place for the cigarette smoke billboard and the coloured lights on in the middle of the day but she didn't think she could stand seeing it in ruins. Likewise she didn't want Zainal to see it at less than its best either.

Tenth Avenue was really a minefield of potholes through which Murray drove carefully. It had never been one of New York's finest neighbourhoods and looked even grimmer now. Especially when she saw the remains of a huge spit that had been erected over one of the potholes, still black from the fire that had been laid in it. A pile of utterly unfamiliar, and large, bones occupied one corner. And the street sign pole sported a huge skull. She couldn't imagine from what animal it had come.

'Had us quite a party that night,' Murray said, grinning at her. 'Rhinoceros, wasn't it, Jelco?'

Jelco nodded, a slight smile of happy reminiscence on his face.

'Rhinoceros?' Kris couldn't help blurting out the word.

'A rather large African beast. How on earth...' she looked across Zainal at Jelco for an explanation.

'Well, we couldn't feed the zoo animals,' he said with a wry grin, 'so they fed us.'

'Oh!'

'Miss going to the zoo on a Sunday, though,' Murray said. 'But we had enough to eat for everyone. Tough to chew, even if you had teeth.' He gave her another grin. 'But we had soup for a week afterwards from the bones. One day, maybe, we can erect a monument on the spot. Sort of thanks for the best meal many of us had had in weeks.'

'They were humanely put down, ma'am,' Jelco added. 'Better than all of us starving to death - and them, too.'

'Yes, yes, I quite see the expediency,' she murmured.

She was silent as she counted the streets on their way to Columbus. There were one or two street signs still in place - no more with skull adornment - and then the buildings turned from residences, if you could call the old shambles 'residences', to the beginning of office-type buildings. By then she realized that very few, except upper storeys, retained any gla.s.s panes in their windows. Many of the walls and entrances showed the pockmarks of bullets, and not a few entrances had no doors at all.

She hadn't seen many people about but as they neared the Circle, she saw folk hurrying in both directions, some carrying armloads or hauling the little wheeled carts as quickly as possible towards the Circle.

The Circle itself surprised her - no longer the place of artistic display but filled with carts and rudely made stalls, some with awnings to keep the sun and rain from whatever merchandise was on offer. She saw additional carts like the potato one.

'We got a bizarre every day now,' Wylee said, and Kris blinked at his misp.r.o.nunciation because the place was indeed bizarre. Not only were there ardent traders making bargains but also swarms of men armed with weapons slung to be brought to bear quickly. They wore brilliant red armbands and berets with some sort of an insignia on them.

'We're in the Cardinal Coord now,' Jelco informed her, touching his own Kelly green armband. 'They keep the peace.'

'Peace?' Kris blurted out, astounded.

'You've no idea how hot under the collar people can get when they lose a deal,' Jelco said. 'Newark runs its own bizarre Sat.u.r.day and Sunday at the airport. No one really likes the duty but every now and then we get a chance at something fresh and tasty.'

'Like the rolls?' Kriss asked.

'Those were elegant, ma'am,' he said earnestly. 'D'you have more?' he asked hesitantly.

'It'll smooth our way here in the Cardinal Coord?' she asked.

'Yes indeedy, ma'am. You've no idea.'

Possibly, she thought to herself, she didn't. But then, she'd had the reality of Barevi and Botany to open her eyes. Idly she thought of goru pears and how juicy they had tasted during her days of refuge in the forests of Barevi. And she thought she'd been deprived there! She wondered how much she could get trading fresh goru pears at this bazaar.

The truck was swinging around the Circle in the appropriate traffic pattern before Murray drove it up onto the wide concrete ap.r.o.n fronting Eric's office building, which dominated its arc of the Circle. Immediately Jelco swung out of the truck as guards from the entrance to the building came forward to protest illegal parking.

Jelco beckoned urgently at Kris, and she called for someone to bring out a fresh supply of rolls. It was Eric who hurried forward, the straps of his backpack looped over his forearm and a roll in his hand as evidence of the treat. The pack was quickly emptied and then Eric was fumbling in his pockets, producing his licence and a business card, which were pa.s.sed around to verify his bona fides. Several of the guards kept curious people moving along, and it was evident why Dan Vitali had said they'd need guards.

However, Eric was approved and he waved for Zainal, Kris and the others to join him. If folks eyed Zainal warily, he was in the midst of armed men they patently trusted so they ignored a single Catteni.

'You're in luck,' the head guard was saying as they approached, Dover and Wylee unloading the awkwardlooking lift platforms. 'We got electricity for another half hour.'

'You mean the elevator's working?' Eric exclaimed, staring around at their party, his eyes bright with relief.