A Slave is a Slave

by H. Beam Piper

progressing, by the way?"

  "Well, we have a rough draft. I don't care much for it, myself, butCitizen Hozhet and Citizen Chmidd and Citizen Zhannar and the others aremost enthusiastic, and, after all, they are the ones who will have tooperate under it."

  The Masterly estates would be the representative units; from each, thefreedmen would elect representatives to regional elective councils, andthese in turn would elect representatives to a central electoral councilwhich would elect a Supreme People's Legislative Council. This wouldnot only function as the legislative body, but would also elect aManager-in-Chief, who would appoint the Chiefs of Management, who, inturn, would appoint their own subordinates.

  "I don't like it, myself," Erskyll said. "It's not democratic enough.There should be a direct vote by the people. Well," he grudged, "Isuppose it will take a little time for them to learn democracy." Thiswas the first time he had come out and admitted that. "There is to be aConstituent Convention in five years, to draw up a new constitution."

  "How about the Convocation? You don't expect them to vote themselves outof existence, do you?"

  "Oh, we're keeping the Convocation, in the present constitution, butthey won't have any power. Five years from now, we'll be rid of thementirely. Look here; you're not going to work against this, are you? Youwon't advise these ci-devant Lords-Master to vote against it, when itcomes up?"

  "Certainly not. I think your constitution--Khreggor Chmidd's and TchallHozhet's, to be exact--will be nothing short of a political disaster,but it will insure some political stability, which is all that mattersfrom the Imperial point of view. An Empire statesman must always guardagainst sympathizing with local factions and interests, and I can thinkof no planet on which I could be safer from any such temptation. Ifthese Lords-Master want to vote their throats cut, and the slaves wantto re-enslave themselves, they may all do so with my complete blessing."

  If he had been at all given to dramatic gestures he would then have sentfor water and washed his hands.

  * * * * *

  Metaphorically, he did so at that moment; thereafter his interest inAdityan affairs was that of a spectator at a boring and stupid show,watching only because there is nothing else to watch, and wishing thatit had been possible to have returned to Odin on the _Irma_. The PrimeMinister, however, was entitled to a full and impartial report, which hewould scarcely get from Count Erskyll, on this new jewel in the ImperialCrown. To be able to furnish that, he would have to remain until theMidyear Feasts, when the Convocation would act on the new constitution.Whether the constitution was adopted or rejected was, in itself,unimportant; in either case, Aditya would have a government recognizableas such by the Empire, which was already recognizing some fairlyunlikely-looking governments. In either case, too, Aditya would makenobody on any other planet any trouble. It wouldn't have, at least for along time, even if it had been left unannexed, but no planet inhabitedby Terro-humans could be trusted to remain permanently peaceful andisolated. There is a spark of aggressive ambition in every Terro-humanpeople, no matter how debased, which may smoulder for centuries or evenmillennia and then burst, fanned by some random wind, into flame. Toshift the metaphor slightly, the Empire could afford to leave nounwatched pots around to boil over unexpectedly.

  Occasionally, he did warn young Erskyll of the dangers of overwork andemotional over-involvement. Each time, the Proconsul would pour out sometale of bickering and rivalry among the chief-freedmen of theManagements. Citizen Khouzhik and Citizen Eschkhaffar--they were allcalling each other Citizen, now--were contesting overlappingjurisdictions. Khouzhik wanted to change the name of his Management--heno longer bothered mentioning Sesar Martwynn--to Labor and Industry. Tothis, Mykhyl Eschkhaffar objected vehemently; any Industry that wasgoing to be managed would be managed by his--Oraze Borztall wassimilarly left unmentioned--management of Public Works. And they werealso feuding about the robotic and remote-controlled equipment that hadbeen sent down from the _Empress Eulalie_ to the Austragonianuclear-power works.

  Khouzhik was also in controversy with Yakoop Zhannar, who was alreadycalling himself People's Provost-Marshal. Khouzhik had taken over allthe private armed-guards on the Masterly farms and in the factories, andassimilated them into something he was calling the People's LaborPolice, ostensibly to enforce the new Code of Employment Practice.Zhannar insisted that they should be under his Management; when Chmiddand Hozhet supported Khouzhik, he began clamoring for the return of theregular army to his control.

  Commodore Shatrak was more than glad to get rid of the Adityan army, andso was Pyairr Ravney, who was in immediate command of them. The Adityansdidn't care one way or the other. Zhannar was delighted, and so wereChmidd and Hozhet. So, oddly, was Zhorzh Khouzhik. At the same time, thestate of martial law proclaimed on the day of the landing wasterminated.

  The days slipped by. There were entertainments at the new ProconsularPalace for the Masterly residents of Zeggensburg, and Erskyll and hisstaff were entertained at Masterly palaces. The latter affairs painedPrince Trevannion excessively--hours on end of gorging uninspiredcooking and guzzling too-sweet wine and watching ex-slave performerswhose acts were either brutal or obscene and frequently both, and, moreunforgivable, stupidly so. The Masterly conversation was simply stupid.

  He borrowed a reconn-car from Ravney; he and Lanze Degbrend and,usually, one or another of Ravney's young officers, took long trips ofexploration. They fished in mountain streams, and hunted the smalldeerlike game, and he found himself enjoying these excursions more thananything he had done in recent years; certainly anything since Adityahad come into the viewscreens of the _Empress Eulalie_. Once in a while,they claimed and received Masterly hospitality at some large farmingestate. They were always greeted with fulsome cordiality, and there wasalways surprise that persons of their rank and consequence should travelunaccompanied by a retinue of servants.

  He found things the same wherever he stopped. None of the farms wereproducing more than a quarter of the potential yield per acre, and alldepleting the soil outrageously. Ten slaves--he didn't bother to thinkof them as freedmen--doing the work of one, and a hundred of them takingall day to do what one robot would have done before noon. White-gownedchief-slaves lording it over green and orange gowned supervisors andclerks; overseers still carrying and frequently using whips and knoutsand sandbag flails.

  Once or twice, when a Masterly back was turned, he caught a look ofmurderous hatred flickering into the eyes of some upper-slave. Once ortwice, when a Master thought his was turned, he caught the same look inMasterly eyes, directed at him or at Lanze.

  The Midyear Feasts approached; each time he returned to the city hefound more excitement as preparations went on. Mykhyl Eschkhaffar'sManagement of Public Works was giving top priority to redecorating theConvocation Chamber and the lounges and dining-rooms around it in whichthe Masters would relax during recesses. More and more Masterly familiesflocked in from outlying estates, with contragravity-flotillas andretinues of attendants, to be entertained at the city palaces. Therewere more and gaudier banquets and balls and entertainments. By the timethe Feasts began, every Masterly man, woman and child would be in thecity.

  There were long columns of military contragravity coming in, too;troop-carriers and combat-vehicles. Yakoop Zhannar was bringing in allhis newly recovered army, and Zhorzh Khouzhik his newly organizedPeople's Labor Police. Vann Shatrak, who was now commanding hisbattle-line unit by screen from the Proconsular Palace, began fretting.

  "I wish I hadn't been in such a hurry to terminate martial rule," hesaid, once. "And I wish Pyairr hadn't been so confoundedly efficient inretraining those troops. That may cost us a few extra casualties, beforewe're through."

  Count Erskyll laughed at his worries.

  "It's just this rivalry between Citizen Khouzhik and Citizen Zhannar,"he said, "They're like a couple of ci-devant Lords-Master competing togive more extravagant feasts. Zhannar's going to hold a review of histroops, and of course, Khouzhik intends to hold a review of hi
s police.That's all there is to it."

  "Well, just the same, I wish some reenforcements would get here fromOdin," Shatrak said.

  Erskyll was busy, in the days before the Midyear Feasts, eitherconferring at the Citadel with the ex-slaves who were the functionalheads of the Managements or at the Proconsular Palace with Hozhet andChmidd and the chief-freedmen of the influential Convocation leaders andPresidium members. Everybody was extremely optimistic about theconstitution.

  He couldn't quite understand the optimism, himself.

  "If I were one of these Lords-Master, I wouldn't even consider thething," he told Erskyll. "I know, they're stupid, but I can't believethey're stupid enough to commit suicide, and that's what this amountsto."

  "Yes, it does," Erskyll agreed, cheerfully. "As soon as they enact it,they'll be of no more consequence than the Assemblage of Peers on Aton;they'll have no voice in the operation of the Commonwealth, and none inthe new constitution that will be drawn up five years from now. And thatwill be the end of them. All the big estates, and the factories andmines and contragravity-ship lines will be nationalized."

  "And they'll have nothing at all, except a hamper-full of repudiatedpaper stellies," he finished. "That's what I mean. What makes you thinkthey'll be willing to vote for that?"

  "They don't know they're voting for it. They'll think they're voting tokeep control of the Mastership. People like Olvir Nikkolon and RovardJavasan and Ranal Valdry and Sesar Martwynn think they still own theirchief-freedmen; they think Hozhet and Chmidd and Zhannar and Khouzhikwill do exactly what they tell them. And they believe anything theHozhets and Chmidds and Zhannars tell them. And every chief-freedman istelling his Lord-Employer that the only way they can keep control is byadopting the constitution; that they can control the elections on theirestates, and hand-pick the People's Legislative Council. I tell you,Prince Trevannion, the constitution is as good as enacted."

  Two days before the opening of the Convocation, the _Irma_ came intoradio-range, five light-hours away, and began transmitting in tapedmatter at sixty-speed. Erskyll's report and his own acknowledged; aroutine "well done" for the successful annexation. Commendation forShatrak's handling of the landing operation. Orders to take overAditya-_Alif_ and begin construction of a permanent naval base.Notification of promotion to base-admiral, and blank commission asline-commodore; that would be Patrique Morvill. And advice that onetransport-cruiser, _Algol_, with an Army contragravity brigade aboard,and two engineering ships, would leave Odin for Aditya in fifteen days.The last two words erased much of the new base-admiral's pleasure.

  "Fifteen days, great Ghu! And those tubs won't make near the speed of_Irma_, getting here. We'll be lucky to see them in twenty. AndBeelzebub only knows what'll be going on here then."

  * * * * *

  Four times, the big screen failed to respond. They were all crowdedinto one of the executive conference-rooms at the Proconsular Palace,the batteries of communication and recording equipment incongruouslyfunctional among the gold-encrusted luxury of the original Masterlyfurnishings. Shatrak swore.

  "Andrey, I thought your people had planted those pickups where theycouldn't be found," he said to Commander Douvrin.

  "There is no such place, sir," the intelligence officer replied. "Justplaces where things are hard to find."

  "Did you mention our pickups to Chmidd or Hozhet or any of the rest ofthe shaveheads?" Shatrak asked Erskyll.

  "No. I didn't even know where they were. And it was the freedmen whofound them," Erskyll said. "I don't know why they wouldn't want uslooking in."

  Lanze Degbrend, at the screen, twisted the dial again, and this time thescreen flickered and cleared, and they were looking into the ConvocationChamber from the extreme rear, above the double doors. Far away, infront, Olvir Nikkolon was rising behind the gold and onyx bench, andfrom the speaker the call bell tolled slowly, and the buzz of over twothousand whispering voices diminished. Nikkolon began to speak:

  "Seven and a half centuries ago, our fathers went forth from Morglay toplant upon this planet a new banner...."

  It was evidently a set speech, one he had recited year after year, andevery Lord Chairman of the Presidium before him. The splendidtraditions. The glories of the Masterly race. The all-conquering SpaceVikings. The proud heritage of the Sword-Worlds. Lanze was fiddling withthe control knobs, stepping up magnification and focusing on thespeaker's head and shoulders. Then everybody laughed; Nikkolon had asmall plug in one ear, with a fine wire running down to vanish under hiscollar. Degbrend brought back the full view of the Convocation Chamber.

  Nikkolon went on and on. Vann Shatrak summoned a robot to furnish himwith a cold beer and another cigar. Erskyll was drumming an impatientdevil's tattoo with his fingernails on the gold-encrusted table in frontof him. Lanze Degbrend began interpolating sarcastic comments. Andfinally, Pyairr Ravney, who came from Lugaluru, reverted to the idiom ofhis planet's favorite sport:

  "Come on, come on; turn out the bull! What's the matter, is the gatestuck?"

  If so, it came quickly unstuck, and the bull emerged, pawing andsnorting.

  "This year, other conquerors have come to Aditya, here to plant anotherbanner, the Sun and Cogwheel of the Galactic Empire, and I blush to sayit, we are as helpless against these conquerors as were the miserablebarbarians and their wretched serfs whom our fathers conquered sevenhundred and sixty-two years ago, whose descendants, until this blackday, had been our slaves."

  He continued, his voice growing more impassioned and more belligerent.Count Erskyll fidgeted. This wasn't the way the Chmidd-HozhetConstitution ought to be introduced.

  "So, perforce, we accepted the sovereignty of this alien Empire. We arenow the subjects of his Imperial Majesty, Rodrik III. We must governAditya subject to the Imperial Constitution." (Groans, boos; catcalls,if the Adityan equivalent of cats made noises like that.) "At onestroke, this Constitution has abolished our peculiar institution, uponwhich is based our entire social structure. This I know. But this sameImperial Constitution is a collapsium-strong shielding; let me call yourattention to Article One, Section Two: _Every Empire planet shall beself-governed as to its own affairs, in the manner of its own choice andwithout interference._ Mark this well, for it is our guarantee that thisgovernment, of the Masters, by the Masters, and for the Masters, shallnot perish from Aditya." (Prolonged cheering.)

  "Now, these arrogant conquerors have overstepped their own supreme law.They have written for this Mastership a constitution, designed for thesole purpose of accomplishing the liquidation of the Masterly class andrace. They have endeavored to force this planetary constitution upon usby threats of force, and by a shameful attempt to pervert the fidelityof our chief-slaves--I will not insult these loyal servitors with thisdisgusting new name, freedmen--so that we might, a second time, betricked into voting assent to our own undoing. But in this, they havefailed. Our chief-slaves have warned us of the trap concealed in thisconstitution written by the Proconsul, Count Erskyll. My faithful TchallHozhet has shown me all the pitfalls in this infamous document...."

  Obray, Count Erskyll, was staring in dismay at the screen. Then he begancursing blasphemously, the first time he had ever been heard to do so,and, as he was at least nominally a Pantheist, this meant blasphemingthe entire infinite universe.

  "The rats! The dirty treacherous rats! We came here to help them, andlook; they've betrayed us...!" He lost his voice in a wheezing sob, andthen asked: "Why did they do it? Do they want to go on being slaves?"

  Perhaps they did. It wasn't for love of their Lords-Master; he was sureof that. Even from the beginning, they had found it impossible todisguise their contempt....

  Then he saw Olvir Nikkolon stop short and thrust out his arm, pointingdirectly below the pickup, and as he watched, something green-gray, aremote-control contragravity lorry, came floating into the field of thescreen. One of the vehicles that had been sent down from the _EmpressEulalie_ for use at the uranium mines. As it lifted and advanced towardthe ce
nter of the room, the other Lords-Master were springing to theirfeet.

  Vann Shatrak also sprang to his feet, reaching the controls of thescreen and cutting the sound. He was just in time to save them frombeing, at least temporarily, deafened, for no sooner had he silenced thespeaker than the lorry vanished in a flash that filled the entire room.

  When the dazzle left their eyes, and the smoke and dust began to clear,they saw the Convocation Chamber in wreckage, showers of plaster andbits of plastiboard still falling from above. The gold and onyx benchwas broken in a number of places; the Chiefs of Management in front ofit, and the Presidium above, had vanished. Among the benches layblack-clad bodies, a few still moving. Smoke rose from burning clothing.Admiral Shatrak put on the sound again; from the screen came screams andcries of pain and fright.

  Then the doors on the two long sides opened, and red-brown uniformsappeared. The soldiers advanced into the Chamber, unslinging rifles andsubmachine guns. Unheeding the still falling plaster, they movedforward, firing as they came. A few of them slung their firearms andpicked up Masterly dress swords, using them to finish the wounded amongthe benches. The screams grew fewer, and then stopped.

  Count Erskyll sat frozen, staring white-faced and horror-sick into thescreen. Some of the others had begun to recover and were babblingexcitedly. Vann Shatrak was at a communication-screen, talking toCommodore Patrique Morvill, aboard the _Empress Eulalie_:

  "All the Landing-Troops, and