Freedom’s Choice by Anne McCaffrey Page A

his hand out for Zainal to shake. “I used to be flight deck officer on the
George Washington
…”
    â€œAircraft carrier,” Kris explained.
    â€œBoy, you landed that baby as sweet as if you’d been backing her into this hangar all your life!”
    Zainal gave yet another of his shrugs. “I had to learn. And pay for holes made.”
    â€œDidja?” Somehow that pleased the man. “Need any more help with her, I’m your man. Vic Yowell’s the name.” He gave Zainal’s hand another shake and then went to prowl around the vessel.
    â€œAll that brass isn’t going to take the ship away from us, are they?” Raisha asked, keeping her voice down and her eye anxiously on Mitford.
    â€œListen up, you lot,” Mitford said, catching them with a stern glance, “that ship makes this a whole new ball game. I know General Rastancil by reputation—he has a good one. I heard good things about General Beverly…don’t know about the navy, but I do know,” and he waggled his finger at them, “that there’ll be some changes and we gotta be flexible. So let’s go with the flow. Right?”
    â€œWhere I flow, you go,” Zainal said, poking Mitford in the shoulder with one finger with each word. “Right?”
    Mitford gave a short laugh but Kris knew that he appreciated Zainal’s statement of loyalty.
    â€œI don’t know about you lot, but I need some chow about this time of day.” He walked out of the hangar.
    â€œMe, too,” Raisha said. “I didn’t like Catteni shipboard rations. They tasted like cardboard wadding.”
    â€œHealthy,” Zainal said as he took Kris by the arm to follow the lead.
    â€œ
Will
we get to Phase Two?” Raisha asked over her shoulder.
    â€œFor fuel we must,” Zainal said.
    â€œSo if I get a chance to learn to pilot the scout, I could pilot a transport vessel?”
    â€œYou can now,” Zainal said, grinning at her surprise. “Drassi need very simple controls.”
    â€œSay, Zainal,” Mitford asked, “how many ships do you think we can hijack before they stop landing here or your destroyers come to have a look?”
    Zainal just grinned.
    * * *
    They had finished with the noontime meal when Bert and the others who had stayed on in Baby, as the ship was unimaginatively called, joined them at their table. Marrucci and Beverly were full of questions for Zainal about the performance levels of the ship, its cruising range, cargo capacity, weaponry, and maintenance requirements. Kris translated terms as well as she could, with help from both Bert and Raisha when she bogged down over unfamiliar words and meanings. Mitford sent someone for paper and pencil.
    â€œWould you have such a thing as a manual?” Ray Scott asked at one point.
    â€œWhat good would a Catteni manual do us?” Kris asked, almost defensively although Scott’s attitude had modified considerably since the docking hop.
    â€œDiagrams,” Scott said, and Kris was ashamed to have missed the obvious.
    So Zainal told Bert where to find the service manuals in the pilot compartment. The day became a session of terminology and translation. Engineers were sent for to decipher the schematics while Zainal struggled to explain with his inadequate technical vocabulary. For Kris there was only guesswork, but she came up with appropriate ones more often than the others did. Zainal did know the basic maintenance routines and checks required since he had often flown this type of craft and had had to make repairs.
    Worrell arrived at one point and took Mitford off with him. Reidenbacker left later on and took Fetterman with him but Kris was far too occupied with spatial and aviation words to do more than register that there were other faces where those men had sat. There was also no question that the capture of Baby was the best thing that could have happened on Botany at that particular