Freedom’s Choice by Anne McCaffrey Page B

moment.
    It was full dark before Zainal suddenly shook himself and stood up.
    â€œI can talk no more tonight.”
    Then everyone became solicitous and grateful and said that by all means he should get some rest.
    â€œYou, too,” he said to Raisha and Bert. “No sleep last night. Not good. Minds must be rested to learn how to fly Baby.” He caught Kris with one hand, Raisha by the other, and gestured for Bert to follow them out.
    There was a brief lull in the various conversations as they stood, but by the time they reached the door these had picked up again, and sheets of Zainal’s meticulous diagrams were being passed around along with the manual.
    All four walked wearily to one of the less crowded end barns. A “people” door had been cut into the larger one and a narrow entry area established before three aisles sectioned off the floor space. Screens of woven reeds divided areas into living spaces, affording a certaindegree of privacy. Single pallets stuffed with fluff weed, spare blankets, a rough box to hold possessions, and two stools made up the furnishings of the one Zainal and Kris took. He moved two pallets together. Kris got her boots off, emptied her pockets of the comunit and items she hadn’t realized she still had with her, and lay down. Zainal covered her with a blanket, before removing his boots and settling down beside her, reaching out to grasp her hand before he took one deep breath and fell asleep at the end of it. She wasn’t far behind him.
    * * *
    Still unaccustomed to Botany’s longer diurnal period even after nine months, and despite the excitements and exertions of the previous day and night, Kris found herself waking before sunrise. Zainal was awake, too, lying on his back, hands behind his head.
    â€œWhat’s up?” she asked in a low voice.
    He released one hand, curled his arm around her head to stroke her cheek. “Thinking.”
    â€œGood thoughts?”
    He nodded.
    â€œShare them?”
    He rubbed his knuckles against her cheek: she could see his teeth in a smile in the dim light. “I must outthink Catteni.”
    She caught his hand, holding it against her cheek as she turned toward him, her lips closer to his ear. “Then there could be trouble over the scout.”
    â€œNot here yet.” She could feel his cheek muscles lifting as his smile broadened. “Lenvec may not be…fooled. Or it is ‘joke’ this time?”
    â€œFooled. Why?” She tried not to stiffen against him in concern but he sensed it, far too aware of her body language now, and his hand flattened soothingly against her head.
    â€œHe does not wish to do Eosi duty.”
    â€œIs he the other male you meant yesterday?”
    She felt Zainal’s shoulder twitch and the rumble of amusement in his chest. “He is next but may not be chosen.” That seemed to amuse him even more. “He has life mate and several childs already,” Zainal added as if that should be a consolation.
    â€œChildren,” she corrected automatically. “Don’t you?” she heard herself ask.
    â€œNo chosen has life mate but I have two males. Too young to be chosen.”
    â€œSo if Lenvec is chosen, we don’t have to worry?”
    â€œHe did not say how soon the chosen must go. If there is time, maybe. He will be commanded where to search first.” Then Zainal paused, and she sensed he deliberated on whether or not to continue. He stroked her head slowly. “Maybe…he gets better satellite over Botany.”
    â€œHigher-tech? More sophisticated?”
    Zainal nodded. “But even that will take time.” And she felt his laugh. Felt him stop, too. “I must be very careful.”
    â€œShouldn’t we tell Mitford all this?”
    Zainal gave his head one shake. “Not now. He has enough troubles with—what did you call them—the brass? Beverly, Scott, Rastancil, them?”
    â€œYeah,