Anne McCaffrey - Freedom 3 - Freedom's Challenge

Freedom's Challenge

by: Anne Mccaffrey

Synopsis:

The colonists from "Freedom's Landing" and "Freedom's Choice" have made

a new home for themselves on the planet where they were abandoned by the

warlike Cattani. Now they possess the technology they need to go back

to war with the deadly Eosi--with a surprise strike at enslaved planet

Earth itself!.

Also by Anne McCaffrey

Restoree

Dragon flight

Decision at Doona

Alchemy &

Academe (Compiled by Anne McCaffrey)

The Ship Who Sang

Mark of Merlin

Dragonquest

Ring of Fear

To Ride Pegasus

Out of This World Cookbook

A Time When

Kilternan Legacy

Dragonsong

Dragonsinger

Get Off the Unicorn

The White Dragon

Dinosaur Planet

Dragondrums

Crystal Singer

The Coelura

Moreta, Dragonlady of Pern

Dinosaur Planet Survivors

Stitch in Snow

Killashandra

The Girl Who Heard Dragons

The Year of the Lucy Nerilka's Story

The Lady (aka The Carradyne Touch)

Dragonsdawn

Renegades of Pern

Sassinak (with Elizabeth Moon)

The Death of Sleep (with jody-Lynn Nye)

Pegasus in Flight

The Rowan

All the Weyrs of Pern

Generation/Warriors (with Elizabeth Moon)

Crisis on Doona (with Margaret Ball) Damia

Damia's Children

Lyon's Pride

Freedom's Landing

Dragonseye

Freedom's Choice

not science fiction--fantasy

Freedom's

Challenge

ANNE mCCAFFREY

AN ACE/PUTNAM BOOK Published by G. P. Putnam Sons a member of Penguin

Putnam Inc.

New York

An Ace/Putnam Book

Published by G. P. Putnam's Sons Publishers Since 1838 a member of

Penguin Putnam Inc. 200 Madison Avenue New York, NY 10016

in any form without permission.

Published simultaneously in Canada

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

McCaffrey, Anne.

Freedom's challenge / by Anne McCaffrey.

"An Ace/Putnam book."

ISBN 0-399-14397-1

(acid-free paper)

PS3563.A255F72 1998 97-44884 CIP

8IY.S4--dc2I

Printed in the United States of America

13579108642

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Book design by Jennifer Ann Daddio

Dedicated to the memory of Joe Mulcahy 1980-1997

Don't look back in anger, I hear you say.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the sullen

surly bell

Give warning to the world that I am fled ....

SHAKESPEARE

Acknowledgments

I HAVE, AS USUAL, ACKNOWLEDGMENTS to make for some of the material used

in Freedom's Challenge.

Especially helpful was Dr. Susan Edwards, Ph.D., social cognitive

psychologist, author of Men Who Believe in Love, who helped me with the

social and trauma techniques, which have been used so successfully to

help the victims of catastrophes, both personal and public (such as

hostage situations) in recovering their personalities and

self-confidence.

Margaret Ball, bless her heart, had all the Swahili and hunted down

information about the customs and traditions of the Maasai tribes of

East Africa. Fortunately, she also speaks Swahili, though I didn't have

to use that much, since so many of the tribal chiefs are fluent enough

in English.

I also wish to thank Georgeanne Kennedy for her careful copyediting and

invaluable suggestions of what she wanted to know "more about" in this

story. What errors a spell-check, even the most advanced ones, do not

catch, the sharp eye of the intelligent reader does. And ! give my

spell-check a lot of hard names to cope with. Thank goodness it can't

complain ... ALOUD!

Freedom's Challenge

WHEN THE CATTENI, MERCENARIES for a race called Eosi, invaded Earth,

they used their standard tactic of domination by landing in fifty cities

across the planet and removing entire urban populations. These they

distributed through the Catteni worlds and sold them as slaves along

with other conquered species.

A group rounded up from Barevi, the hub of the slave trade, were dumped

on an M-type planet of unknown quality, given rations and tools and

allowed to survive or not. A former marine sergeant, Chuck Mitford,

took charge of the mixed group, which included sullen Turs, spider-like

Deski, hairy Rugarians, vague IIinish, gaunt Morphins, with humans in

the majority.

There was also one Catteni who had been shanghaied onto the prison ship.

Though there were those who wanted to kill him immediately, Kris

Bjornsen, lately of Denver, suggested that he might know enough about

the planet to help them.

He remembered sufficient from a casual glance at the initial exploration

report to suggest they move under cover, and preferably rock, to prevent

being eaten by night crawlers, which oozed from the ground to ingest

anything edible.

Installed in a rocky site, with cliffs and caves to give them some

protection. Mitford quickly organized a camp, utilizing the specific

qualities of the aliens and assigning tasks to every one in this unusual

community.

However, the planet was soon discovered to be inhabited by machines,

which automatically tended the crops and the six-legged bovine types.

After being caught by the Mechs, Zainal, the Catteni, with his scout

party, not only escape but rescue other humans trapped by the Mechs in

what proves to be an abattoir.

However, human ingenuity being rampant among the mixed group, they soon

learned how to dismantle the machines and design useful equipment.

Zainal, in a conversation with one of the Drassi drop captains, gets not

only a supply of the drug which will keep the Deski contingent from

dying of malnutrition, bu also aerial maps of the planet. And discovers

a command post, presumably built by the real owners of the planet. While

it has obviously not been used, a mechanically inclined member of their

scouting party launches a homing device.

Both the Eosi overlords looking for Zainal and the genuine owners of the

planet note the release of the homing device.

The search to bring Zainal back to face the consequences of his

delinquency continues. But Zainal manages to lure the searchers into

the maws of the night crawlers and acquires their scout vehicle.

Meanwhile, six more drops of dissidents from Earth and a few other

aliens have swelled the population of Botany, as the planet is now

called, to nearly ten thousand folk: some of them with skills that

benefit the colony and improve conditions. Zainal, now with a constant

companion in Kris Bjornsen, and others explore this new world.

What Kris slowly discovers from her "buddy" is that Zainal wants to

implement a three-phase plan: one that will end the domination of his

people by the Eosi and, incidentally, bring about the liberation of

Earth.

Following this agenda, Zainal explains to Mitford and other ex-naval,

air force, and army personnel how he means to proceed: by capturing the

next ship which drops more slaves on Botany. This plan necessitates

some alteration when the next ship turns up in such poor condition that

only quick action saves it from blowing up. But the captain has sent

out an emergency message and looks forward to being rescued from the

planet. By a clever plot, the rescue ship, which is a new one, is

captured by Zainal and "other Catteni" staff, thus giving them two

operational ships, 131.s the bridge equipment of the one they have now

cannibalized for parts.

Because Zainal was dropped on Botany, his brother Lenvec has had to take

his place, becoming subsumed as a host for an Eosi. The Eosi is

somewhat amused by his host body's violent hatred of his brother. And

soon becomes obsessed with finding the runaway.

An immense ship does a flypast of Botany and replaces the machines,

which the colonists have salvaged to provide themselves with useful

vehicles and equipment. At this reminder that they live on Botany on

sufferance, the entire colony decides that they should show goodwill to

their unknown landlords by leaving the farmed continent on which they

were dropped and moving to a smaller, unused continent across a small

strait. They are in the process of moving when the Mentat Ix, hosted in

Lenvec's body, does a search of the planet to find the missing Catteni.

Without success.

No sooner does this inspection tour end than the real owners of the

planet, who accept the appellation of Farmers, arrive in unusual form.

They seem able to give personal messages to all they meet: the important

news is permission for the colony to remain. They also protect it with

a most incredible device, a Bubble, which surrounds the entire planet

while still permitting the sun's rays to filter through even as it

impedes the exit of the Eosi ship. Once free of the obstacle, the

Mentat orders its ship to fire on the Bubble, which has no effect on it.

The impenetrable protection of this planet infuriates the Mentat who

decides that the shield must be broken and the recalcitrant colony

disciplined. To this end, the Mentat retires to its home world to

accumulate an armada. And also to probe the minds of human specialists

to see what knowledge they must possess.

The two ships owned by the colony are able to leave the protection of

the Bubble, while the two Eosi satellites are on the other side of the

world, and succeed in raiding Barevi for much needed fuel, supplies, and

more plursaw for the Deski's diet. Kris, who had already learned enough

Barevi to deal with merchants, and others accompany Zainal. While

there, they learn of the plight of Humans whose minds have been wiped by

the Eosian device with which they had enhanced the basic intelligence of

the Catteni race. From Barevi, Zainal makes contact with dissident

Emassi who are also pledged to end Eosi domination. Having found slave

pens full of the mind-wiped Victims of the Eosi, the Botanists are

unable to leave their compatriots to sure death in slave camps. So they

contrive to take over yet another ship. Between the two, they are able

to rescue several thousand Victims, irrespective of the problems this

might cause the colony.

Zainal's first two phases have been successful: the planet is safe and

they have ships with which to seize additional supplies. But will he be

able to talk the colony into supporting his third-phase plans? And

liberate not only Earth but also the Catteni from Eosi domination?

Chapter One.

WHEN ZAINAL HAD ORGANIZED THE data he wanted to send to the Farmers via

the homing capsule, he let Boris Slavinkovin and Dick Aarens fly it down

to the Command Post for dispatch.

"You have a nasty sense of humor, Zainal," Kris said when the hatch of

the scout vessel Baby closed behind the messengers. She had been

surprised by his choice of Aarens, considering the man's behavior on

their first visit to the Command Post.

"Well," and Zainal gave a shrug of one shoulder and an unrepentant grin,

"Aarens has had experience sending one off. Let him do it official this

time. As a reward for his improvement."

"What improvement?" Kris still had little time for the self-styled

mechanical genius who had deliberately launched a homing capsule without

authorization on their first trip to the Command Post.

They both stepped back from the takeoff area, as much to avoid the fumes

as the wind, although Boris lifted the little craft slowly and

cautiously.

They watched as it made an almost soundless vertical ascent before it

slanted forward and sped off, disappearing quickly in the dusk of what

had been a very long and momentous day.

The wide landing field that stretched out level with the immense,

Farmer-constructed hangar could accommodate a half dozen of the K-class

ships that had arrived today. They now were out of sight, within the

vast hangar. At the far end of the landing area grew small copses of

the lodgepole trees: young ones in terms of the age of the mature groves

above and beyond the hangar. In the nearest of those groves the cabins

of the colonists were being constructed, out of brick or wood, in

separate clearings to allow the privacy that everyone preferred. Further

up the slope were the infirmary, which today was crowded, and the huge

mess hall, which served food all day long and well into the long Botany

night. The largest building that faced Retreat Bay was the

administration, where Judge Iri Bempechat held court when necessary,

with the stocks just outside as a reminder that offenses against the

community would be publicly punished.

The building also held the living quarters for the judge and other

members of the body known as the Council, which included those with

experience in management and administration to run the affairs of the

colony. In the earliest days, when Master Sergeant Charles Mitford had

taken charge of the dazed and frightened First Drop colonists, he'd kept

records on pieces of slate with chalk. Now the admin building posted

weekly work rosters and the community services that all were required to

perform. (It still shocked Kris to see Judge Iri washing dishes, and he

did it more cheerfully than many.)

Ex-Admiral Ray Scott had elected to live in a small room behind his

office in the hangar complex. It was he, disguised as a Catteni Drassi,

who had insisted that the Victims be rescued from the fate to which the

Eosi had condemned them: working until they died as mindless slaves in

the appalling conditions that existed in the mines, quarries, and

fields. There had been no way that those of his crew who had been among

the first dropped on Botany would have allowed those battered people to

be transported to their deaths.

Considering the excitements of the day, the unloading of the victims of

the Eosian mind-wipe experiment, which had occupied a good third of

Botany's settlers, the field was now abnormally quiet, peaceful. Kris

sighed and Zainal gave her a fond look.

"ZAINAL? KRIS?" Chuck Mitford's parade ground voice reached their ears

over the muted sounds that Baby was making. They looked back to the

hangar and saw Chuck urgently waving to them. He was talking to someone

who had just pulled up in a runabout.

"Oh, now what?" The testy demand left Kris' mouth before she could

suppress it. She was tired and she earnestly desired a shower and a

long sleep. She'd even arranged with the crche to keep Zane overnight

since she knew herself to be stretched to the limit after the tense

voyage home and the stress of landing all the pitiful mind-wiped people.

"We'd better see," Zainal said, taking her hand in his big one and

pressing it encouragingly.

"Don't you ever get tired and just... have too much, Zainal?"This was

one of those moments when his equanimity bordered on the unforgivable.

"Yes, but it passes;' he said, leading her to where Chuck Mitford waited

for them with the passenger of the runabout.

It wasn't a long walk but long enough for Kris to get her irritation and

impatience under control. If Zainal could hack it, so could she. But

when would she get a shower? She stank! Well, maybe her body odor

would encourage whoever this was to shorten their errand.

"What's up, sarge?" she asked, noticing that he was talking to a woman

she vaguely recognized from the Fourth Drop: as much because she managed

to look elegant in the basic Catteni coverall. Kris wondered if she'd

taken it in at crucial spots to make it look so fashionable. She was

fleetingly envious of such expertise.

"Dorothy Dwardie who's heading the psychology team needs some of your

time, and right now," Chuck said and had the grace to add, "though I'd

guess another meeting's the last thing you two need right now."

"It is," Kris said without thinking but she smiled at the psychologist

to take the sting out of her candor.

"It is important?" And Zainal's question was more statement than query.

"Yes, it is, quite urgent," Dorothy said with an apologetic smile. "We

need to know more about that mind-probe before we can proceed with any

sort of effective or therapeutic treatment."

"Why don't you use the small office?" Chuck said, gesturing to that end

of the immense hangar.

Zainal squeezed Kris' hand and murmured: "This won't take long. I know

very little about the probe;'

"I was hoping you'd know something, if only the history of its use among

your people," Dorothy said ruefully and then looked about for a place to

park the runabout.

"I'll take care of it for you," Chuck said so helpfully that Kris

smothered a grin.

Dorothy Dwardie gave him a warm smile for his offer.

"We've had a bit of outrageous luck," she said as they walked to the

right-hand side of the enormous hangar where other small offices had

been constructed.

"We could use some," Kris agreed, struggling for amiability.

"Indeed we could, though I must say that hijacking all those poor people

out from under Eosi domination is certainly their good luck. And you

deserve a lot of credit for that act of kindness:'

What she didn't say rang loud and clear to Kris. There were some who

weren't sure she and Zainal deserved any credit? As well for them that

Ray Scott had loudly declared that he took full responsibility for the

decision to save the damaged Humans so no one could blame that on Zainal

or her.

Actually the guilty were the Eosi but too many people failed to make a

distinction between overlord and underling. Kris' mood swung back to

negative again.

"But until we..." and Dorothy's hand on her chest meant all the

psychologists and psychiatrists on Botany who would now take charge of

the mind-wiped, "understand as much as possible about the mechanism...

ah, here we are..." and she opened the door to the small office and

automatically fumbled for a light switch on the wall.

Kris had seen the cord and pulled it.

"Oh . . . I suppose I'll get used to it in time," Dorothy said with

an apologetic grin.

"You're Fourth Drop, aren't you?" Kris replied as neutrally as possible

while Zainal closed the door behind them. There were several desks

against the long stone wall but a table and chairs made an appropriate

conference spot by the wide window. There was nothing but darkness

outside, since the hangar faced south and there were no habitations yet

beyond the field.

"You said you had a bit of outrageous luck ?"

Kris asked when they were seated.

"Yes, not everyone in the group you brought had been mind-wiped."

"Certainly the Deskis, Rugs, and Turs weren't," Kris said.

"Nor all the Humans," Dorothy said, smiling over such a minor triumph.

"They weren't?" Kris asked, exchanging surprised glances with Zainal.

"Yes, some faked the vacuity of the mindless . . ."

"Faked it?"

Dorothy smiled more brightly. "Clever of them, actually, and they got

away with it because those in charge weren't keeping track of who had

been... done."

Kris let out a long whistle. "All us Human look alike to Eosi? Proves,

though, doesn't it, that the Eosi aren't all that smart after all.

Clever of us Humans to run the scam."

"They're also able to give us names for many of the people who no longer

remember who they are." Dorothy gave a little shudder. "I've dealt with

amnesia patients before, of course, and accident shock trauma, but this

is on so much larger a scale... and complicated by not only emotional

but also physical shock and injury. We have established--thanks to Leon

Dane's work with injured Catteni---that there are more points of

similarity than differences between our two species since both are

bipedal, pentadactyl, and share many of the same external features, like

eyes, ears, noses. We can't of course cross-fertilize," and to Kris'

surprise, Dorothy ducked her head to hide a flush.

"As well," Kris said dryly.

Dorothy flashed her an apology and continued. "Internally, though the

Catteni have larger hearts, lungs, and intestinal arrangements, Leon

says that the main difference is the density of the brain matter. It's

also larger though similarly organized as ours are, as far as the

position of the four major lobes is concerned. Leon was amazed at what

damage a Catteni skull could take without permanent injury. I think,"

and she paused, frowning slightly at what she did not voice, "that the

initial injuries to the prisoners were attempts to recalibrate the

instrument to human brains."

"Initial injuries?" Kris asked.

"Yes," and Dorothy seemed to wish to get over this topic very quickly,

"though they would have been dead before their nervous systems could

register much."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and leave it at that, Kris," Dorothy went on briskly. "Will

Seiss-mann should not dwell on the details although he seems to want

to... a part of his trauma."

"Will Seissmann?" Kris asked.

"Yes, he and Dr. Ansible ..."

"Dr. Ansible?" Kris shot bolt upright. "But he's--was, rather--at the

observatory. Only I think he was away on some sort of a conference when

the Catteni took Denver:'

"Yes, he was and took refuge at Stamford," Dorothy replied, nodding.

"He tried to argue others he knew to follow Will's example. I don't

know whether or not the dogmatic scientist has an innate martyr complex

but only a few would resort to the trick to save themselves;' She broke

off with a sigh. "At any rate, we are able to put names to most of the

Victims. But I need to know whatever details you may have, Zainal. They

will be so helpful in correcting the trauma... if, indeed, we can."

Zainal shook his head. "I know little about such Eosi devices." Then

his expression changed into what Kris privately termed his "Catteni

look," cold, impassive, shuttered. "I do know--it is part of the

Catteni history--that they have a device that increases and measures

intelligence."

"Oh?" Dorothy leaned forward across the tame in her eagerness. "Then it

could possibly extract information, too?"

Zainal blinked and his expression altered to a less forbidding one. He

gave a slight smile. "It would seem likely since I only know of the one

device.

The Eosi used it on the primitive Catteni to make them useful as hosts."

"Really?" Dorothy's expression was intensely eager as she leaned

forward, encouraging Zainal to elaborate.

"Yes, really. Roughly two thousand years ago, the Eosi discovered

Catten and its inhabitants. We were little more than animals, a fact

the Eosi never let us forget. About a thousand years ago, my family

started keeping its records for our ancestor was one of the first

hundred to have . . . his brains stimulated by the device. Each

family keeps its own records--how many males it has delivered to the

Eosi as hosts and details of children and matings."

"A thousand, two thousand years to develop into a space-going race?

That's impressive," Dorothy said.

"Humans did it without such assistance and that impresses me," Zainal

said with an odd laugh. "But that's how the Emassi were developed. To

serve the Eosi."

"They didn't use the mind thingummy on the Drassi?" Kris asked.

"To a lesser degree," Zainal replied and turned to Dorothy. "There are

three levels of Catteni now... Emassi," and he touched his chest,

"Drassi who are good at following orders but have little initiative or

ambition: some were rejected for the Emassi ranks, but are able to be

more than Drassi--ship captains and troop leaders. Then there're the

Rassi, who were left as they are."

"Rassi?" Kris echoed in surprise. "Never heard of them."

"They do not leave Catten and are as we all were when the Eosi found

us."

"So you, as a species, did not evolve by yourselves? But had your

intelligence stimulated?" Dorothy asked. She turned to Kris. "The Eosi

evidently never heard of the Prime Directive."

Kris giggled. A psychologist who was a Trekkie?

Anne McCaffrey - Freedom 3 - Freedom's Challenge

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