Freedom's Ransom by Anne McCaffrey

his hands and the other boys followed his example, despite their obvious desire to eat. Kris dished out spartan servings since whoever had brought the food had not anticipated eight people dining on the pot’s contents. She had some slightly stale cake to serve for “afters,” which the boys and Floss consumed avidly.
    â€œSorry about the hard rations. But there’s usually plenty to eat at the dining hall,” Kris said. “We generally eat there and take our turns cleaning up.”
    â€œThat was lovely,” Floss said with a replete sigh. “Human cooking.”
    â€œWe ate well enough with the Masai,” Clune said, almost embarrassed by her remark.
    â€œThere 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.
    â€œThere were plenty of times we didn’t have enough inDC, Floss,” Clune said with quiet authority.
    â€œOh, 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.”
    â€œI’ve always preferred to eat regular,” Ferris added, speaking almost 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.
    â€œâ€™Scuse me, ma’am,” Ferris went on, his brown eyes troubled, “but does anyone know who’s left on Earth?”
    â€œYou had family there, Ferris?” Kris asked.
    â€œThink they escaped the roundup but I don’t know. Any way I can find out?”
    â€œWe’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.”
    â€œOh”—she twitched her right shoulder—“I did but I had to give that up as a lost job, didn’t I?”
    â€œYou do know not to walk about at night, don’t you?” Kris asked.
    â€œSure 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.”
    â€œYou do know to stamp a lot at night if you are caught off the stone paths?” Zainal continued. And all six kids nodded solemnly.
    â€œYou boys can stay in the ship but I’m locking everything else down. I don’t want anyone flying off on us.”
    â€œEmassi Zainal,” Clune began formally, “what exactly did we volunteer for?”
    â€œTranslating 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.”
    â€œOh, 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!”
    â€œYes, we have all the comforts of home.”
    â€œWould 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