by John Norman
the left side. From one point of view this bit of trim, like a small, folded ribbon, was quite inconspicuous, though it doubtless had some subtle role to play in accenting the gown. From another point of view, however, for those who could read such things, it indicated that she was, however far removed, of the blood itself. That color, you see, was legally worn only by those who were not merely of the honestori but of the patricians. She was, you see, a minor patrician. Indeed, her nobility, as tenuous, as small, as remote as it was, had much to do with her presence on the ship. Had she not been of that class, she would not have been where she was. She glanced again at the bodyguard to the right of Pulendius. Yes! He was looking at her! She looked to the captain of the ship, who glanced at her, not understanding her agitation. Then she dabbed at the dessert on her plate. She was frustrated on her own world. In her, like tides, like movements of the earth itself, there was a very strong sexuality, muchly starved, of course, given the world on which she lived. And so she sat at the table, uncomfortably, looking down at her plate. The bodyguard looked once more upon her. She flushed, seemingly aware of his glance. Was this, we wonder, from the unease, the heat or discomfort, of her own thoughts, or was it because she suspected that she might once more be the subject of his regard? Perhaps it was both. This minor patrician, who so subtly with the tiny purple stripe, that little bit of trim, called attention to her claims and her birth, far above, always, that of a lout like Pulendius, who could buy his way into the honestori, was, as we have suggested, white-skinned, dark-haired and well figured. She was young, beautiful and intelligent. She was, all in all, the sort of woman who, on many worlds, would have brought an excellent price. Too, on many worlds, the bit of trim on the gown, the purple, would not have saved her. On barbarian worlds, it would doubtless have improved her price, and perhaps so, too, in certain other markets, sometimes secret markets, on many of the allied and imperial worlds. Such women were prized, as they made excellent slaves.
“What do you think of her?” asked Pulendius.
The bodyguard, he on the right of Pulendius, to whom the question was apparently addressed, seemed startled.
Pulendius nodded toward the girl who had been serving the table, she who had, but a moment ago, poured kana into the delicate, transparent, shallow bowl.
The bodyguard turned his attention to the servant, as we shall, for the moment, think of her.
She did not lift her eyes, or turn about, to look at him.
Rather she was attentively, even as though she might not know herself now the center of the group’s attention, pouring kana for a ship’s officer, he to the captain’s left.
She was brownish-skinned, and exceedingly exquisite.
The darkness of her skin was set off by the sleeveless, sparkling white serving gown.
She was shorter than the young dark-haired woman from Terennia, whose height was closer to the average for a human female, she of patrician blood, however far removed, but both would have been tiny compared to, say, the bodyguard, he behind Pulendius, and to his right, he who had been addressed.
“Of course,” said Pulendius, “you will see her differently when she is on her knees, in a keb, cuffed, and chained to the stake.”
“Yes, milord,” said the guard.
“I do not understand,” said the young woman from Terennia, irritably.
Pulendius smiled, and looked to the captain.
The young woman serving kana went to the next officer, who declined the refilling of the delicate bowl.
She then went to the next, and, receiving permission, granted by an almost imperceptible movement of the head, accompanied by the proffering of the bowl, head down, poured.
A comment or two may be in order with respect to the appearance of the current subject of the group’s attention. The white gown was her single garment. Too, surprisingly, she was barefoot, her tiny feet almost lost in the luxurious nap of the carpeting of the lounge. On her left ankle, ringing it closely, was a golden band, an anklet of sorts, it would seem. One might take this, it would seem, as her single piece of jewelry.
“Perhaps I may be permitted to explain,” said the captain, a bit apologetically, responding to the encouragement of Pulendius, addressing himself to the young dark-haired woman a few seats down the table, to his left.
“Please, do,” she said, icily.
“Do you truly not understand?” asked one of the ship’s officers.
The young dark-haired woman did not take her eyes from the captain.
There were several differences between the two women with whom we are now concerned, in background, in education, in appearance, and such. But one difference, one which is of importance here, is that the pourer of kana had learned to obey men, instantly, and unquestioningly, which the young dark-haired woman, she from Terennia, had not yet learned to do.
“This is not Terennia,” began the captain.
“Yes?” said the young woman, coolly.
“The line,” said the captain, “here and there, acquires such, on certain worlds, for various purposes.”
“‘Acquires’?” said the young dark-haired woman.
“‘Buys,’ “suggested Pulendius.
She looked at him, with horror.
“On Terennia,” said the captain, “it is my understanding that certain forms of relationship have been declared illegal.”
“Forms of relationship?” she asked.
“Yes,” said the captain.
“Matters having to do with property, certain forms of ownership,” volunteered Pulendius, helpfully.
“Certain things on Terennia may be owned, but not others,” said the captain.
“Land, articles of clothing, such things may be owned, yes,” said the young woman.
“One thinks nothing of the ownership of animals on Terennia,” said Pulendius.
“Certainly,” said the young woman. “One has a full and perfect right to own such.”
“But only certain sorts of animals,” said the captain.
“No,” she said. “One can own any sort of animal.”
“Any sort of animal?” asked the captain, smiling.
“Yes,” she said.
“Are you sure of that?” asked Pulendius.
“Certainly,” she said.
“Are we not all animals?” asked the captain.
“No,” she said.
“Biology, as I understand it, begs to differ with you,” said Pulendius.
“Very well,” she said. “Certain forms of animals may be owned. Certain other forms of animals may not be owned.”
“Surely you recognize the arbitrariness, if not the literal inconsistency, of that view,” said one of the ship’s officers.
She looked at him, with fury.
“You must know,” said the captain, “that slavery is quite legal in the empire.”
“Yes,” she said.
“And on many of the barbarous worlds, as well?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And on many of the most civilized, as well,” he said.
“Yes,” she said, reddening.
“On many worlds there is a body of property law, of considerable complexity and antiquity, pertinent to the matter,” said the captain.
“You are aware of the social utility of the institution, surely,” said one of the ship’s officers, “with respect to such matters as social stability, conservation of resources, population control, and such.”
“On Terennia,” she said, icily, “slavery is illegal.”
“That is true,” said the captain. “On Terennia slavery is illegal.”
“On Terennia,” said a young officer in the imperial navy, one on leave, it seemed, who had not spoken before, some seats down, near Pulendius, to the captain’s right, “it is the men who are slaves.”
“None are slaves on Terennia,” she said, angrily. Then she flushed, aware, perhaps, of the gaze of the bodyguard upon her, he behind Pulendius, to his right. “Let us not spoil the evening by dispute
on such matters,” said the captain.
“You know the law, of course,” said Pulendius, “that if one should bring his property to another world within the empire, it does not cease to remain his property.”
“Of course I am familiar with the law,” she said, angrily. “The principle is a simple one, familiar from basic jurisprudence.”
“Let us suppose,” said Pulendius, “to take a purely hypothetical example, that you yourself were to become a slave, and were then to be brought to Terennia.”
“Yes?” she said, her body stiffening.
“You would then still be a slave, would you not?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“‘Yes’?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, rigid on her chair, “I would still be a slave.”
“Within the full rights of your master?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, angrily.
“And are you so sure,” he asked, “that there are no slaves on Terennia?”
“Certainly,” she said.
“Are you so sure?” he asked.
“Perhaps in the wilderness,” she said, “in rural areas, away from the cities.”
“And perhaps in the schools?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said, reddening. She looked at the bodyguards, particularly at he who was behind Pulendius, to his right, and then looked away, quickly. Such men, she suspected, though she was only from Terennia, might not only relish and desire women, but might actually need them, even crave them, desperately, like food and drink, quite otherwise than the “true men” with whom she was, to her boredom, more than familiar.
“Who knows?” said Pulendius, pleasantly, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“Are you telling me that this girl is a slave?” asked the young, dark-haired woman, indicating the pourer of kana.
“We have not said that,” said the captain.
“Kana, milady?” asked the pourer of kana, pausing at the side of the young, dark-haired woman.
“No!” exclaimed the young, dark-haired woman, drawing back.
At a gesture from Pulendius the pourer of kana returned to her usual serving station, somewhat behind the captain, and to his left.
“Who owns her?” demanded the young woman.
“The line,” said the captain, “at least until tomorrow evening.”
“After the contest,” said Pulendius.
“I do not believe she is a slave,” said the young, dark-haired woman.
“Surely such matters need not be made obvious,” said the captain.
“She is not a slave,” said the young, dark-haired woman.
“This is not a barbarian ship,” said the captain.
“Are you skeptical because she is not slave clad, and not collared?” asked Pulendius.
The young, dark-haired woman tossed her head, angrily.
“The collar is a lovely adornment, and it has its purposes, identificatory, mnemonic, and such,” said Pulendius, “but it is bondage which makes the slave, not the collar. Too, how do you know she is not slave clad?”
The young, dark-haired woman looked down, in consternation. “Is she slave clad?” she asked. The young dark-haired woman seemed agitated, enflamed.
“Yes,” said Pulendius.
There was silence at the table.
“She is not a slave,” whispered the young, dark-haired woman, desperately.
“Kana,” said the captain, irritably, holding forth his delicate glass.
“Yes, milord,” said the pourer, hurrying forward to replenish the beverage.
“Speak clearly,” said the captain.
“Yes, Master,” she said.
Then she raised her eyes to the young, dark-haired woman, and in that glance there was more than a hint of anger, of defiance, but then, swiftly, as though frightened, she put down her head and returned to her station.
Such women, you see, are not free, but owned. They may not always do what they please. They are subject to authority, to punishment.
Pulendius regarded the young, dark-haired woman, she from Terennia, she who was the minor patrician, considering her, and then his eyes rested, as though amused, on the golden necklace, about a half of an inch in height, with which she had so closely encircled her throat. Selfconsciously she raised her fingers to her throat, and then, hastily, returned them to the glistening cloth of the table. The necklace reminded him of a slave collar, of the interwoven-chain variety. To be sure, it was not as sturdy, and it did not have a lock.
“Shall I send her away?” asked the captain, concerned. As the captain of a cruise ship he had not only the care of his vessel to consider, but his obligations to look after the comfort and pleasures of his passengers.
The young, dark-haired woman did not answer.
“More kana,” said the young naval officer, he of the imperial navy, he of one of the imperial fleets, he on leave, it seemed. And so the pourer of kana remained present.
Pulendius, nursing his kana, moving it about in the delicate, shallow bowl, looked upon the young, dark-haired woman. Pulendius was still a strong man, but he had, in these past years, grown somewhat corpulent, doubtless from the rich food, the softness of his life, the luxuries. He looked at the young, dark-haired woman. She seemed to him a fine, vital, healthy young animal. He wondered what sort of slave she would make. The bodyguard, too, one of the gladiators, he who was behind and to the right of Pulendius, also regarded her. He, too, wondered what sort of slave she would make.
A junior officer approached the table. Shortly thereafter, the captain rose and, wiping his lips, and making excuses, took his leave from the table.
Pulendius, and the bodyguards, watched him leave. So, too, did the ship’s first officer. The naval officer, too, he on leave, as it seemed, seemed to note the captain’s departure.
“There seems an anklet of some sort on her ankle, a band of some sort,” said the young, dark-haired woman, offhandedly.
“Why, yes,” said Pulendius. “So there does.”
“That is enough!” suddenly cried the young, dark-haired woman flinging down her napkin, and rising to her feet. The entire table regarded her.
She pointed to the bodyguard, he whose presence, if not regard, seems to have made her uneasy throughout the evening.
“He keeps looking at me!” she said, angrily.
“Ah, my dear, but who would not?” said Pulendius, soothingly. “Or,” he added, tactfully, “at our other charming companions, as well?”
This addition clearly met with the approval of the other women at the table, who, to be sure, for the most part were not at all unlikely recipients of just such attentions.
Reddening, the young, dark-haired woman once more took her seat.
“It is not as though you were in a haik, my dear,” said one of the women. This remark was greeted with laughter. The young, dark-haired woman again reddened, and looked down. The haik was a dark, cumbrous garment which would cover a woman from head to toe. Through a narrow aperture in the garment, that aperture itself covered with black lace, or black gauze, a woman might peer out. It was sometimes worn by the women of certain desert worlds, who would kneel behind their men, who spoke with other men of the things of men. One did not always know if the wearers of the haik were free women, fully clad within the haik, or collared, naked slave girls, waiting for the guests to leave. How embarrassed the young, dark-haired woman was. How like a fool she felt!
“Kana, all about!” called Pulendius.
The pourer of kana hastened to fill the transparent, shallow bowls.
Even that of the young, dark-haired woman was filled. The pourer of kana did not meet her eyes, but then she did not meet the eyes of the other guests, either.
“What is the nature of the contest of the morrow’s evening?” inquired one of the men at the table of Pulendius.
Pulendius grinned at the first officer, still at the table. “It is something of a surprise,” he said.
“Has it to do with the p
risoner, who was brought on board at Tinos?” asked the young naval officer, sitting somewhat to the left of Pulendius.