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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20726-h.zip b/20726-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3527ba --- /dev/null +++ b/20726-h.zip diff --git a/20726-h/20726-h.htm b/20726-h/20726-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0db664f --- /dev/null +++ b/20726-h/20726-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4801 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of "A Slave Is A Slave", by H. Beam Piper. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + h4 {margin-top:0;} + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .bbox {margin-right: 10%; margin-left: 10%; margin-top:2em; border: dotted 1px; padding: 1em;} + ins.corr {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Slave is a Slave, by Henry Beam Piper + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Slave is a Slave + +Author: Henry Beam Piper + +Release Date: March 3, 2007 [EBook #20726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SLAVE IS A SLAVE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> +<h1>A SLAVE IS A SLAVE</h1> + +<h2>BY H. BEAM PIPER</h2> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h4>Transcriber's Note</h4> + +<p>This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact—Science Fiction +April 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the +U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="margin-top: 2em; background-image:url(images/illus-001.png); +width:500px; height:394px;"> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 7em; padding-top: 5em; text-align: right;">There has always been</p> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 5em;">strong sympathy for the poor,</p> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 7em; text-align: right;">meek, downtrodden slave—</p> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 7em; text-align: right;">the kindly little man, oppressed</p> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 5em;">by cruel and overbearing masters.</p> +<p style="font-size: larger; padding-left: 5em; padding-right: 5em; text-align: right;">Could it possibly have been misplaced...?</p> +</div></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jurgen, Prince Trevannion, accepted +the coffee cup and lifted it to +his lips, then lowered it. These Navy +robots always poured coffee too hot; +spacemen must have collapsium-lined +throats. With the other hand, he +punched a button on the robot's keyboard +and received a lighted cigarette; +turning, he placed the cup on +the command-desk in front of him +and looked about. The tension was relaxing +in Battle-Control, the purposeful +pandemonium of the last three +hours dying rapidly. Officers of both +sexes, in red and blue and yellow and +green coveralls, were rising from +seats, leaving their stations, gathering +in groups. Laughter, a trifle loud; he +realized, suddenly, that they had been +worried, and wondered if he should +not have been a little so himself. No. +There would have been nothing he +could have done about anything, so +worry would not have been useful. +He lifted the cup again and sipped +cautiously.</p> + +<p>"That's everything we can do now," +the man beside him said. "Now we +just sit and wait for the next move."</p> + +<p>Like all the others, Line-Commodore +Vann Shatrak wore shipboard +battle-dress; his coveralls were black, +splashed on breast and between shoulders +with the gold insignia of his +rank. His head was completely bald, +and almost spherical; a beaklike nose +carried down the curve of his brow, +and the straight lines of mouth and +chin chopped under it enhanced +rather than spoiled the effect. He was +getting coffee; he gulped it at once.</p> + +<p>"It was very smart work, Commodore. +I never saw a landing operation +go so smoothly."</p> + +<p>"Too smooth," Shatrak said. "I don't +trust it." He looked suspiciously up +at the row of viewscreens.</p> + +<p>"It was absolutely unnecessary!"</p> + +<p>That was young Obray, Count Erskyll, +seated on the commodore's left. +He was a generation younger than +Prince Trevannion, as Shatrak was a +generation older; they were both +smooth-faced. It was odd, how beards +went in and out of fashion with alternate +generations. He had been worried, +too, during the landing, but for +a different reason from the others. +Now he was reacting with anger.</p> + +<p>"I told you, from the first, that it +was unnecessary. You see? They +weren't even able to defend themselves, +let alone...."</p> + +<p>His personal communication-screen +buzzed; he set down the coffee +and flicked the switch. It was Lanze +Degbrend. On the books, Lanze was +carried as Assistant to the Ministerial +Secretary. In practice, Lanze was his +chess-opponent, conversational foil, +right hand, third eye and ear, and, +sometimes, trigger-finger. Lanze was +now wearing the combat coveralls of +an officer of Navy Landing-Troops; +he had a steel helmet with a transpex +visor shoved up, and there was a carbine +slung over his shoulder. He +grinned and executed an exaggeratedly +military salute. He chuckled.</p> + +<p>"Well, look at you; aren't you the +perfect picture of correct diplomatic +dress?"</p> + +<p>"You know, sir, I'm afraid I am, for +this planet," Degbrend said. "Colonel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +Ravney insisted on it. He says the +situation downstairs is still fluid, +which I take to mean that everybody +is shooting at everybody. He says he +has the main telecast station, in the +big building the locals call the Citadel."</p> + +<p>"Oh, good. Get our announcement +out as quickly as you can. Number +Five. You and Colonel Ravney can +decide what interpolations are needed +to fit the situation."</p> + +<p>"Number Five; the really tough +one," Degbrend considered. "I take it +that by interpolations you do not mean +dilutions?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; don't water the drink. +Spike it."</p> + +<p>Lanze Degbrend grinned at him. +Then he snapped down the visor of +his helmet, unslung his carbine, and +presented it. He was still standing at +present arms when Trevannion +blanked the screen.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"That still doesn't excuse a wanton +and unprovoked aggression!" Erskyll +was telling Shatrak, his thin face +flushed and his voice quivering with +indignation. "We came here to help +these people, not to murder them."</p> + +<p>"We didn't come here to do either, +Obray," he said, turning to face the +younger man. "We came here to annex +their planet to the Galactic Empire, +whether they wish it annexed +or not. Commodore Shatrak used the +quickest and most effective method of +doing that. It would have done no +good to attempt to parley with them +from off-planet. You heard those telecasts +of theirs."</p> + +<p>"Authoritarian," Shatrak said, then +mimicked pompously: "'Everybody is +commanded to remain calm; the Mastership +is taking action. The Convocation +of the Lords-Master is in special +session; they will decide how to +deal with the invaders. The administrators +are directed to reassure the +supervisors; the overseers will keep +the workers at their tasks. Any person +disobeying the orders of the Mastership +will be dealt with most severely.'"</p> + +<p>"Static, too. No spaceships into this +system for the last five hundred years; +the Convocation—equals Parliament, +I assume—hasn't been in special session +for two hundred and fifty."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I've taken over planets with +that kind of government before," +Shatrak said. "You can't argue with +them. You just grab them by the center +of authority, quick and hard."</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll said nothing for a +moment. He was opposed to the use +of force. Force, he believed, was the +last resort of incompetence; he had +said so frequently enough since this +operation had begun. Of course, he +was absolutely right, though not in the +way he meant. Only the incompetent +wait until the last extremity to use +force, and by then, it is usually too late +to use anything, even prayer.</p> + +<p>But, at the same time, he was opposed +to authoritarianism, except, of +course, when necessary for the real +good of the people. And he did not +like rulers who called themselves +Lords-Master. Good democratic rulers +called themselves Servants of the +People. So he relapsed into silence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +and stared at the viewscreens.</p> + +<p>One, from an outside pickup on the +<i>Empress Eulalie</i> herself, showed the +surface of the planet, a hundred miles +down, the continent under them curving +away to a distant sun-reflecting +sea; beyond the curved horizon, the +black sky was spangled with unwinking +stars. Fifty miles down, the sun +glinted from the three thousand foot +globes of the two transport-cruisers, +<i>Canopus</i> and <i>Mizar</i>.</p> + +<p>Another screen, from <i>Mizar</i>, gave a +clearer if more circumscribed view of +the surface—green countryside, +veined by rivers and wrinkled with +mountains; little towns that were +mere dots; a scatter of white clouds. +Nothing that looked like roads. There +had been no native sapient race on +this planet, and in the thirteen centuries +since it had been colonized the +<ins class="corr" title="Hyphenated, as in majority usage in text.">Terro-human</ins> population had never +completely lost the use of contragravity +vehicles. In that screen, farther +down, the four destroyers, <i>Irma</i>, <i>Irene</i>, +<i>Isobel</i> and <i>Iris</i>, were tiny twinkles.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <i>Irene</i>, they had a magnified +view of the city. On the maps, none +later than eight hundred years old, it +was called Zeggensburg; it had been +built at the time of the first colonization +under the old Terran Federation. +Tall buildings, rising from wide interspaces +of lawns and parks and gardens, +and, at the very center, widely +separated from anything else, the +mass of the Citadel, a huge cylindrical +tower rising from a cluster of +smaller cylinders, with a broad circular +landing stage above, topped by the +newly raised flag of the Galactic +Empire.</p> + +<p>There was a second city, a thick +crescent, to the south and east. The +old maps placed the Zeggensburg +spaceport there, but not a trace of that +remained. In its place was what was +evidently an industrial district, located +where the prevailing winds would +carry away the dust and smoke. There +was quite a bit of both, but the surprising +thing was the streets, long +curved ones, and shorter ones crossing +at regular intervals to form +blocks. He had never seen a city with +streets before, and he doubted if anybody +else on the Empire ships had. +Long boulevards to give unobstructed +passage to low-level air-traffic, of +course, and short winding walkways, +but not things like these. Pictures, of +course, of native cities on planets colonized +at the time of the Federation, +and even very ancient ones of cities +on pre-Atomic Terra. But these people +had contragravity; the towering, +wide-spaced city beside this cross-gridded +anachronism proved that.</p> + +<p>They knew so little about this +planet which they had come to bring +under Imperial rule. It had been colonized +thirteen centuries ago, during +the last burst of expansion before the +System States War and the disintegration +of the Terran Federation, and +it had been named Aditya, in the fashion +of the times, for some forgotten +deity of some obscure and ancient +polytheism. A century or so later, it +had seceded from or been abandoned +by the Federation, then breaking up. +That much they had gleaned from old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +Federation records still existing on +Baldur. After that, darkness, lighted +only by a brief flicker when more +records had turned up on Morglay.</p> + +<p>Morglay was one of the Sword-Worlds, +settled by refugee rebels from +the System States planets. Mostly they +had been soldiers and spacemen; +there had been many women with +them, and many were skilled technicians, +engineers, scientists. They had +managed to carry off considerable +equipment with them, and for three +centuries they had lived in isolation, +spreading over a dozen hitherto undiscovered +planets. Excalibur, Tizona, +Gram, Morglay, Durendal, Flamberge, +Curtana, Quernbiter; the +names were a roll-call of fabulous +blades of Old Terran legend.</p> + +<p>Then they had erupted, suddenly +and calamitously, into what was left of +the Terran Federation as the Space +Vikings, carrying pillage and destruction, +until the newborn Empire rose +to vanquish them. In the sixth Century +Pre-Empire, one of their fleets +had come from Morglay to Aditya.</p> + +<p>The Adityans of that time had been +near-barbarians; the descendants of +the original settlers had been serfs of +other barbarians who had come as +mercenaries in the service of one or +another of the local chieftains and had +remained to loot and rule. Subjugating +them had been easy; the Space +Vikings had taken Aditya and made it +their home. For several centuries, +there had been communication between +them and their home planet. +Then Morglay had become involved +in one of the interplanetary dynastic +wars that had begun the decadence +of the Space Vikings, and again +Aditya dropped out of history.</p> + +<p>Until this morning, when history +returned in the black ships of the +Galactic Empire.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He stubbed out the cigarette and +summoned the robot to give him another. +Shatrak was speaking:</p> + +<p>"You see, Count Erskyll, we really +had to do it this way, for their own +good." He wouldn't have credited the +commodore with such guile; anything +was justified, according to Obray of +Erskyll, if done for somebody else's +good. "What we did, we just landed +suddenly, knocked out their army, +seized the center of government, before +anybody could do anything. If +we'd landed the way you'd wanted us +to, somebody would have resisted, and +the next thing, we'd have had to kill +about five or six thousand of them and +blow down a couple of towns, and +we'd have lost a lot of our own people +doing it. You might say, we had to do +it to save them from themselves."</p> + +<p>Obray of Erskyll seemed to have +doubts, but before he could articulate +them, Shatrak's communication-screen +was calling attention to itself. +The commodore flicked the switch, +and his executive officer, Captain +Patrique Morvill, appeared in it.</p> + +<p>"We've just gotten reports, sir, +that some of Ravney's people have +captured a half-dozen missile-launching +sites around the city. His air-reconn +tells him that that's the lot of +them. I have an officer of one of the +parties that participated. You ought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +to hear what he has to say, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, good!" Vann Shatrak +whooshed out his breath. "I don't +mind admitting, I was a little on edge +about that."</p> + +<p>"Wait till you hear what Lieutenant +Carmath has to say." Morvill seemed +to be strangling a laugh. "Ready for +him, Commodore?"</p> + +<p>Shatrak nodded; Morvill made a +hand-signal and vanished in a flicker +of rainbow colors; when the screen +cleared, a young Landing-Troop lieutenant +in battle-dress was looking out +of it. He saluted and gave his name, +rank and unit.</p> + +<p>"This missile-launching site I'm +occupying, sir; it's twenty miles +north-west of the city. We took it +thirty minutes ago; no resistance +whatever. There are four hundred or +so people here. Of them, twelve, one +dozen, are soldiers. The rest are civilians. +Ten enlisted men, a non-com +of some sort, and something that appears +to be an officer. The officer had +a pistol, fully loaded. The non-com +had a submachine gun, empty, with +two loaded clips on his belt. The privates +had rifles, empty, and no ammunition. +The officer did not know +where the rifle ammunition was +stored."</p> + +<p>Shatrak swore. The second lieutenant +nodded. "Exactly my comment +when he told me, sir. But this place +is beautifully kept up. Lawns all +mowed, trees neatly pruned, everything +policed up like inspection +morning. And there is a headquarters +office building here adequate for an +army division...."</p> + +<p>"How about the armament, Lieutenant?" +Shatrak asked with forced +patience.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes; the armament, sir. There +are eight big launching cradles for +panplanetary or off-planet missiles. +They are all polished up like the +Crown Jewels. But none, repeat none, +of them is operative. And there is not +a single missile on the installation."</p> + +<p>Shatrak's facial control didn't slip. +It merely intensified, which amounted +to the same thing.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Carmath, I am morally +certain I heard you correctly, but let's +just check. You said...."</p> + +<p>He repeated the lieutenant back, +almost word for word. Carmath nodded.</p> + +<p>"That was it, sir. The missile-crypts +are stacked full of old photoprints +and recording and microfilm +spools. The sighting-and-guidance +systems for all the launchers are completely +missing. The letoff mechanisms +all lack major parts. There is an +elaborate set of detection equipment, +which will detect absolutely nothing. +I saw a few pairs of binoculars about; +I suspect that that is what we were +first observed with."</p> + +<p>"This office, now; I suppose all the +paperwork is up to the minute in +quintulplicate, and initialed by everybody +within sight or hearing?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't checked on that yet, sir. +If you're thinking of betting on it, +please don't expect me to cover you, +though."</p> + +<p>"Well, thank you, Lieutenant Carmath. +Stick around; I'm sending +down a tech-intelligence crew to look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +at what's left of the place. While +you're waiting, you might sort out +whoever seems to be in charge and +find out just what in Nifflheim he +thinks that launching-station was +maintained for."</p> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-007.png" width="500" height="431" alt="" title="" /> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"I think I can tell you that, now, +Commodore," Prince Trevannion +said as Shatrak blanked the screen. +"We have a petrified authoritarianism. +Quite likely some sort of an oligarchy; +I'd guess that this Convocation +thing they talk about consists of all +the ruling class, everybody has equal +voice, and nobody will take the responsibility +for doing anything. And +the actual work of government is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +probably handled by a corps of bureaucrats +entrenched in their jobs, +unwilling to exert any effort and +afraid to invite any criticism, and +living only to retire on their pensions. +I've seen governments like +that before." He named a few. "One +thing; once a government like that +has been bludgeoned into the Empire,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +it rarely makes any trouble later."</p> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-008.png" width="500" height="705" alt="" title="" /> +</div></div> + +<p>"Just to judge by this missileless +non-launching station," Shatrak said, +"they couldn't even decide on what +kind of trouble to make, or how to +start it. I think you're going to have a +nice easy Proconsulate here, Count +Erskyll."</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll started to say something. +No doubt he was about to tell +Shatrak, cuttingly, that he didn't want +an easy Proconsulate, but an opportunity +to help these people. He was +saved from this by the buzzing of +Shatrak's communication-screen.</p> + +<p>It was Colonel Pyairr Ravney, the +Navy Landing-Troop commander. +Like everybody else who had gone +down to Zeggensburg, he was in battle-dress +and armed; the transpex +visor of his helmet was pushed up. +Between Shatrak's generation and +Count Erskyll's, he sported a pointed +mustache and a spiky chin-beard, +which, on his thin and dark-eyed face, +looked distinctly Mephistophelean. +He was grinning.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I think we can call it a +done job," he said. "There's a delegation +here who want to talk to the +Lords-Master of the ships on behalf +of the Lords-Master of the Convocation. +Two of them, with about a dozen +portfolio-bearers and note-takers. +I'm not too good in Lingua Terra, +outside Basic, at best, and their brand +is far from that. I gather that they're +some kind of civil-servants, personal +representatives of the top Lords-Master."</p> + +<p>"Do we want to talk to them?" +Shatrak asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, we should only talk to the +actual, titular, heads of the government—Mastership," +Erskyll, suddenly +protocol-conscious, objected. "We +can't negotiate with subordinates."</p> + +<p>"Oh, who's talking about negotiating; +there isn't anything to negotiate. +Aditya is now a part of the Galactic +Empire. If this present regime +assents to that, they can stay in power. +If not, we will toss them out and +install a new government. We will +receive this delegation, inform them +to that effect, and send them back to +relay the information to their Lords-Master." +He turned to the Commodore. +"May I speak to Colonel Ravney?"</p> + +<p>Shatrak assented. He asked Ravney +where these Lords-Master were.</p> + +<p>"Here in the Citadel, in what they +call the Convocation Chamber. Close +to a thousand of them, screaming recriminations +at one another. Sounds +like feeding time at the Imperial Zoo. +I think they all want to surrender, but +nobody dares propose it first. I've just +put a cordon around it and placed it +off limits to everybody. And everything +outside off limits to the Convocation."</p> + +<p>"Well thought of, Colonel. I suppose +the Citadel teems with bureaucrats +and such low life-forms?"</p> + +<p>"Bulging with them. Literally thousands. +Lanze Degbrend and Commander +Douvrin and a few others are +trying to get some sensible answers +out of some of them."</p> + +<p>"This delegation; how had you +thought of sending them up?"</p> + +<p>"Landing-craft to <i>Isobel</i>; <i>Isobel</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +will bring them the rest of the way."</p> + +<p>He looked at his watch. "Well, +don't be in too much of a rush to get +them here, Colonel. We don't want +them till after lunch. Delay them on +<i>Isobel</i>; the skipper can see that they +have their own lunch aboard. And entertain +them with some educational +films. Something to convince them +that there is slightly more to the Empire +than one ship-of-the-line, two +cruisers and four destroyers."</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll was dissatisfied about +that, too. He wanted to see the delegation +at once and make arrangements +to talk to their superiors. Count +Erskyll, among other things, was zealous, +and of this he disapproved. Zealous +statesmen perhaps did more mischief +than anything in the Galaxy—with +the possible exception of procrastinating +soldiers. That could indicate +the fundamental difference between +statecraft and war. He'd have +to play with that idea a little.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>An Empire ship-of-the-line was almost +a mile in diameter. It was more +than a battle-craft; it also had political +functions. The grand salon, on the +outer zone where the curvature of the +floors was less disconcerting, was as +magnificent as any but a few of the +rooms of the Imperial Palace at Asgard +on Odin, the floor richly carpeted +and the walls alternating mirrors +and paintings. The movable furniture +varied according to occasion; at +<ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'present;'">present,</ins> it consisted of the bare desk +at which they sat, the three chairs +they occupied, and the three secretary-robots, +their rectangular black +casts blazened with the Sun and +Cogwheel of the Empire. It faced the +door, at the far end of the room; +on either side, a rank of spacemen, in +dress uniform and under arms, stood.</p> + +<p>In principle, annexing a planet to +the Empire was simplicity itself, but +like so many things simple in principle, +it was apt to be complicated in +practice, and to this, he suspected, the +present instance would be no exception.</p> + +<p>In principle, one simply informed +the planetary government that it was +now subject to the sovereignty of his +Imperial Majesty, the Galactic Emperor. +This information was always +conveyed by a Ministerial Secretary, +directly under the Prime Minister +and only one more step down from +the Emperor, in the present instance +Jurgen, Prince Trevannion. To make +sure that the announcement carried +conviction, the presumedly glad tidings +were accompanied by the Imperial +Space Navy, at present represented +by Commodore Vann Shatrak +and a seven ship battle-line unit, and +two thousand Imperial Landing-Troops.</p> + +<p>When the locals had been properly +convinced—with as little bloodshed +as necessary, but always beyond any +dispute—an Imperial Proconsul, in +this case Obray, Count Erskyll, would +be installed. He would by no means +govern the planet. The Imperial Constitution +was definite on that point; +every planetary government should +be sovereign as to intraplanetary affairs. +The Proconsul, within certain +narrow and entirely inelastic limits,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +would merely govern the government.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Obray, Count Erskyll, +appeared not to understand this +completely. It was his impression that +he was a torch-bearer of Imperial civilization, +or something equally picturesque +and metaphorical. As he conceived +it, it was the duty of the Empire, +as represented by himself, to +make over backward planets like +Aditya in the image of Odin or Marduk +or Osiris or Baldur or, preferably, +his own home world of Aton.</p> + +<p>This was Obray of Erskyll's first +proconsular appointment, it was due +to family influence, and it was a mistake. +Mistakes, of course, were inevitable +in anything as large and complex +as the Galactic Empire, and any +institution guided by men was subject +to one kind of influence or another, +family influence being no +worse than any other kind. In this +case, the ultra-conservative Erskylls of +Aton, from old Errol, Duke of Yorvoy, +down, had become alarmed at the +political radicalism of young Obray, +and had, on his graduation from the +University of Nefertiti, persuaded the +Prime Minister to appoint him to a +Proconsulate as far from Aton as possible, +where he would not embarrass +them. Just at that time, more important +matters having been gotten out +of the way, Aditya had come up for +annexation, and Obray of Erskyll had +been named Proconsul.</p> + +<p>That had been the mistake. He +should have been sent to some planet +which had been under Imperial rule +for some time, where the Proconsulate +ran itself in a well-worn groove, +and where he could at leisure learn +the procedures and unlearn some of +the unrealisms absorbed at the University +from professors too well insulated +from the realities of politics.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was a stir among the guards; +helmet-visors were being snapped +down; feet scuffed. They stiffened to +attention, the great doors at the other +end of the grand salon slid open, and +the guards presented arms as the +Adityan delegation was ushered in.</p> + +<p>There were fourteen of them. They +all wore ankle-length gowns, and they +all had shaven heads. The one in the +lead carried a staff and wore a pale +green gown; he was apparently a +herald. Behind him came two in white +gowns, their empty hands folded on +their breasts; one was a huge bulk of +obesity with a bulging brow, protuberant +eyes and a pursey little +mouth, and the other was thin and +cadaverous, with a skull-like, almost +fleshless face. The ones behind, in +dark green and pale blue, carried +portfolios and slung sound-recorder +cases. There was a metallic twinkle at +each throat; as they approached, he +could see that they all wore large silver +gorgets. They came to a halt +twenty feet from the desk. The herald +raised his staff.</p> + +<p>"I present the Admirable and +Trusty Tchall Hozhet, personal chief-slave +of the Lord-Master Olvir Nikkolon, +Chairman of the Presidium of +the Lords-Master's Convocation, and +Khreggor Chmidd, chief-slave in office +to the Lord-Master Rovard Javasan,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +Chief of Administration of Management +of the Mastership," he said. +Then he stopped, puzzled, looking +from one to another of them. When +his eyes fell on Vann Shatrak, he +brightened.</p> + +<p>"Are you," he asked, "the chief-slave +of the chief Lord-Master of this +ship?"</p> + +<p>Shatrak's face turned pink; the +pink darkened to red. He used a +word; it was a completely unprintable +word. So, except for a few scattered +pronouns, conjunctions and +prepositions, were the next fifty +words he used. The herald stiffened. +The two delegates behind him were +aghast. The subordinate burden-bearers +in the rear began looking +around apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"I," Shatrak finally managed, "am +an officer of his Imperial Majesty's +Space Navy. I am in command of +this battle-line unit. I am <i>not</i>"—he +reverted briefly to obscenity—"a +slave."</p> + +<p>"You mean, you are a Lord-Master, +too?" That seemed to horrify the +herald even more that the things +Shatrak had been calling him. "Forgive +me, Lord-Master. I did not think...."</p> + +<p>"That's right; you didn't," Shatrak +agreed. "And don't call me Lord-Master +again, or I'll...."</p> + +<p>"Just a moment, Commodore." He +waved the herald aside and addressed +the two in white gowns, shifting to +Lingua Terra. "This is a ship of the +Galactic Empire," he told them. "In +the Empire, there are no slaves. Can +you understand that?"</p> + +<p>Evidently not. The huge one, +Khreggor Chmidd, turned to the +skull-faced Tchall Hozhet, saying: +"Then they must all be Lords-Master." +He saw the objection to that at +once. "But how can one be a Lord-Master +if there are no slaves?"</p> + +<p>The horror was not all on the visitors' +side of the desk, either. Obray of +Erskyll was staring at the delegation +and saying, "Slaves!" under his +breath. Obray of Erskyll had never, in +his not-too-long life, seen a slave before.</p> + +<p>"They can't be," Tchall Hozhet replied. +"A Lord-Master is one who +owns slaves." He gave that a moment's +consideration. "But if they +aren't Lords-Master, they must be +slaves, and...." No. That wouldn't +do, either. "But a slave is one who belongs +to a Lord-Master."</p> + +<p>Rule of the Excluded Third; evidently +Pre-Atomic formal logic had +crept back to Aditya. Chmidd, looking +around, saw the ranks of spacemen +on either side, now at parade-rest.</p> + +<p>"But aren't they slaves?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"They are spacemen of the Imperial +Navy," Shatrak roared. "Call one +a slave to his face and you'll get a +rifle-butt in yours. And I shan't lift a +finger to stop it." He glared at +Chmidd and Hozhet. "Who had the +infernal impudence to send slaves to +deal with the Empire? He needs to +be taught a lesson."</p> + +<p>"Why, I was sent by the Lord-Master +Olvir Nikkolon, and...."</p> + +<p>"Tchall!" Chmidd hissed at him. +"We cannot speak to Lords-Master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +We must speak to their chief-slaves."</p> + +<p>"But they have no slaves," Hozhet +objected. "Didn't you hear the ... +the one with the small beard ... +say so?"</p> + +<p>"But that's ridiculous, Khreggor. +Who does the work, and who tells +them what to do? Who told these +people to come here?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Our Emperor sent us. That is his +picture, behind me. But we are not +his slaves. He is merely the chief man +among us. Do your Masters not have +one among them who is chief?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Chmidd said to +Hozhet. "In the Convocation, your +Lord-Master is chief, and in the Mastership, +my Lord-Master, Rovard Javasan, +is chief."</p> + +<p>"But they don't tell the other +Lords-Master what to do. In Convocation, +the other Lords-Master tell +them...."</p> + +<p>"That's what I meant about an +oligarchy," he whispered, in Imperial, +to Erskyll.</p> + +<p>"Suppose we tell Ravney to herd +these Lords-Master onto a couple of +landing-craft and bring them up +here?" Shatrak suggested. He made +the suggestion in Lingua Terra Basic, +and loudly.</p> + +<p>"I think we can manage without +that." He raised his voice, speaking +in Lingua Terra Basic:</p> + +<p>"It does not matter whether these +slaves talk to us or not. This planet +is now under the rule of his Imperial +Majesty, Rodrik III. If this Mastership +wants to govern the planet under +the Emperor, they may do so. If +not, we will make an end of them +and set up a new government here."</p> + +<p>He paused. Chmidd and Hozhet +were looking at one another in +shocked incredulity.</p> + +<p>"Tchall, they mean it," Chmidd +said. "They can do it, too."</p> + +<p>"We have nothing more to say to +you slaves," he continued. "Hereafter, +we will speak directly to the Lords-Master."</p> + +<p>"But.... The Lords-Master never +do business directly," Hozhet said. +"It is un-Masterly. Such discussions +are between chief-slaves."</p> + +<p>"This thing they call the Convocation," +Shatrak mentioned. "I wonder +if the members have the business +done entirely through their slaves."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" That shocked Chmidd +into direct address. "No slave is allowed +in the Convocation Chamber."</p> + +<p>He wondered how they kept the +place swept out. Robots, no doubt. Or +else, what happened when the Masters +weren't there didn't count.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Your people have recorders; +are they on?"</p> + +<p>Hozhet asked Chmidd; Chmidd +asked the herald, who asked one of +the menials in the rear, who asked +somebody else. The reply came back +through the same channels; they were.</p> + +<p>"Very well. At this time tomorrow, +we will speak to the Convocation of +Lords-Master. Commodore Shatrak, +see to it that Colonel Ravney has +them in the Convocation Chamber, +and that preparations in the room +are made, so that we may address +them in the dignity befitting representatives +of his Imperial Majesty."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +He turned to the Adityan slaves. +"That is all. You have permission to +go."</p> + +<p>They watched the delegation back +out, with the honor-guard following. +When the doors had closed behind +them, Shatrak ran his hand over his +bald head and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Shaved heads, every one of them. +That's probably why they thought I +was your slave. Bet those gorgets are +servile badges, too." He touched the +Knight's Star of the Order of the +Empire at <ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'this'">his</ins> throat. "Probably +thought that was what this was. We +would have to draw something like +this!"</p> + +<p>"They simply can't imagine anybody +not being either a slave or a +slave-owner," Erskyll was saying. +"That must mean that there is no +free non-slave-holding class at all. +Universal slavery! Well, we'll have to +do something about that. Proclaim total +emancipation, immediately."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; we can't do anything like +that. The Constitution won't permit +us to. Section Two, Article One: <i>Every +Empire planet shall be self-governed +as to its own affairs, in the +manner of its own choice, and without +interference.</i>"</p> + +<p>"But slavery.... Section Two, +Article Six," Erskyll objected. "<i>There +shall be no chattel slavery or serfdom +anywhere in the Empire; no sapient +being of any race whatsoever shall +be the property of any being but +himself.</i>"</p> + +<p>"That's correct," he agreed. "If this +Mastership intends to remain the +planetary government under the Empire, +they will be obliged to abolish +slavery, but they will have to do it by +their own act. We cannot do it for +them."</p> + +<p>"You know what I'd do, Prince +Trevannion?" Shatrak said. "I'd just +heave this Mastership thing out, and +set up a nice tight military dictatorship. +We have the planet under martial +rule now; let's just keep it that +way for about five years, till we can +train a new government."</p> + +<p>That suggestion seemed to pain +Count Erskyll almost as much as the +existing situation.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They dined late, in Commodore +Shatrak's private dining room. Beside +Shatrak, Erskyll and himself, +there were Lanze Degbrend, and +Count Erskyll's charge-d'affaires, +Sharll Ernanday, and Patrique Morvill +and Pyairr Ravney and the naval +intelligence officer, Commander Andrey +Douvrin. Ordinarily, he deplored +serious discussion at meals, +but under the circumstances it was +unavoidable; nobody could think or +talk of anything else. The discussion +which he had hoped would follow the +meal began before the soup-course.</p> + +<p>"We have a total population of +about twenty million," Lanze Degbrend +reported. "A trifle over ten +thousand Masters, all ages and both +sexes. The remainder are all slaves."</p> + +<p>"I find that incredible," Erskyll declared +promptly. "Twenty million +people, held in slavery by ten thousand! +Why do they stand for it? +Why don't they rebel?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I can think of three good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +reasons," Douvrin said. "Three square +meals a day."</p> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-015.png" width="500" height="306" alt="" title="" /> +</div></div> + +<p>"And no responsibilities; no need +to make decisions," Degbrend added. +"They've been slaves for seven and a +half centuries. They don't even know +the meaning of freedom, and it +would frighten them if they did."</p> + +<p>"Chain of command," Shatrak said. +When that seemed not to convey any +meaning to Erskyll, he elaborated: +"We have a lot of dirty-necked working +slaves. Over every dozen of them +is an overseer with a big whip and a +stungun. Over every couple of overseers +there is a guard with a submachine +gun. Over them is a supervisor, +who doesn't need a gun because he +can grab a handphone and call for +troops. Over the supervisors, there are +higher supervisors. Everybody has it +just enough better than the level below +him that he's afraid of losing his +job and being busted back to fieldhand."</p> + +<p>"That's it exactly, Commodore," +Degbrend said. "The whole society +is a slave hierarchy. Everybody curries +favor with the echelon above, and +keeps his eye on the echelon below +to make sure he isn't being undercut. +We have something not too unlike +that, ourselves. Any organizational society +is, in some ways, like a slave +society. And everything is determined +by established routine. The whole +thing has simply been running on +momentum for at least five centuries, +and if we hadn't come smashing in +with a situation none of the routines +covered, it would have kept on running +for another five, till everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +wore out and stopped. I heard about +those missile-stations, by the way. +They're typical of everything here."</p> + +<p>"That's another thing," Erskyll interrupted. +"These Lords-Master are +the descendants of the old Space-Vikings, +and the slaves of the original +inhabitants. The Space Vikings were +a technologically advanced people; +they had all the old Terran Federation +science and technology, and a lot they +developed for themselves on the +Sword-Worlds."</p> + +<p>"Well? They still had a lot of it, on +the Sword-Worlds, two centuries ago +when we took them over."</p> + +<p>"But technology always drives out +slavery; that's a fundamental law of +socio-economics. Slavery is economically +unsound; it cannot compete with +power-industry, let alone cybernetics +and robotics."</p> + +<p>He was tempted to remind young +Obray of Erskyll that there were no +such things as fundamental laws of +socio-economics; merely usually reliable +generalized statements of what +can more or less be depended upon to +happen under most circumstances. He +resisted the temptation. Count Erskyll +had had enough shocks, today, +without adding to them by gratuitous +blasphemy.</p> + +<p>"In this case, Obray, it worked in +reverse. The Space Vikings enslaved +the Adityans to hold them in subjugation. +That was a politico-military necessity. +Then, being committed to +slavery, with a slave population who +had to be made to earn their keep, +they found cybernetics and robotics +economically unsound."</p> + +<p>"And almost at once, they began +appointing slave overseers, and the +technicians would begin training +slave assistants. Then there would be +slave supervisors to direct the overseers, +slave administrators to direct +them, slave secretaries and bookkeepers, +slave technicians and engineers."</p> + +<p>"How about the professions, +Lanze?"</p> + +<p>"All slave. Slave physicians, teachers, +everything like that. All the Masters +are taught by slaves; the slaves +are educated by apprenticeship. The +courts are in the hands of slaves; +cases are heard by the chief slaves of +judges who don't even know where +their own courtrooms are; every Master +has a team of slave lawyers. Most +of the lawsuits are estate-inheritance +cases; some of them have been in +litigation for generations."</p> + +<p>"What do the Lords-Master do?" +Shatrak asked.</p> + +<p>"Masterly things," Degbrend replied. +"I was only down there since +noon, but from what I could find +out, that consists of feasting, making +love to each other's wives, being entertained +by slave performers, and +feuding for social precedence like +wealthy old ladies on Odin."</p> + +<p>"You got this from the slaves? +How did you get them to talk, +Lanze?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Degbrend and Ravney exchanged +amused glances. Ravney said:</p> + +<p>"Well, I detailed a sergeant and +six privates to accompany Honorable +Degbrend," Ravney said. "They.... +How would you put it, Lanze?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I asked a slave a question. If he +refused to answer, somebody knocked +him down with a rifle-butt," Degbrend +replied. "I never had to do +that more than once in any group, +and I only had to do it three times in +all. After that, when I asked questions, +I was answered promptly and +fully. It is surprising how rapidly +news gets around the Citadel."</p> + +<p>"You mean you had those poor +slaves beaten?" Erskyll demanded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Beating implies repeated +blows. We only gave one to a customer; +that was enough."</p> + +<p>"Well, how about the army, if +that's what those people in the long +red-brown coats were?" Shatrak +changed the subject by asking Ravney.</p> + +<p>"All slave, of course, officers and +all. What will we do about them, +sir? I have about three thousand, either +confined to their barracks or +penned up in the Citadel. I requisitioned +food for them, paid for it in +chits. There were a few isolated companies +and platoons that gave us +something of a fight; most of them +just threw away their weapons and +bawled for quarter. I've segregated +the former; with your approval, I'll +put them under Imperial officers and +noncoms for a quickie training in +our tactics, and then use them to train +the rest."</p> + +<p>"Do that, Pyairr. We only have +two thousand men of our own, and +that's not enough. Do you think you +can make soldiers out of any of +them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe so, sir. They are +trained, organized and armed for civil-order +work, which is what we'll +need them for ourselves. In the entire +history of this army, all they +have done has been to overawe unarmed +slaves; I am sure they have +never been in combat with regular +troops. They have an elaborate set of +training and field regulations for the +sort of work for which they were intended. +What they encountered today +was entirely outside those regulations, +which is why they behaved +as they did."</p> + +<p>"Did you have any trouble getting +cooperation from the native officers?" +Shatrak asked.</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. They cooperated +quite willingly, if not always too +intelligently. I simply told them that +they were now the personal property +of his Imperial Majesty, Rodrik III. +They were quite flattered by the +change of ownership. If ordered to, I +believe that they would fire on their +former Lords-Master without hesitation."</p> + +<p>"You told those slaves that they +... <i>belonged</i> ... to the <i>Emperor</i>?"</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll was aghast. He +stared at Ravney for an instant, then +snatched up his brandy-glass—the +meal had gotten to that point—and +drained it at a gulp. The others +watched solicitously while he coughed +and spluttered over it.</p> + +<p>"Commodore Shatrak," he said +sternly. "I hope that you will take severe +disciplinary action; this is the +most outrageous...."</p> + +<p>"I'll do nothing of the sort," Shatrak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +retorted. "The colonel is to be +commended; did the best thing he +could, under the circumstances. What +are you going to do when slavery is +abolished here, Colonel?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, tell them that they have been +given their freedom as a special reward +for meritorious service, and +then sign them up for a five year enlistment."</p> + +<p>"That might work. Again, it might +not."</p> + +<p>"I think, Colonel, that before you +do that, you had better disarm them +again. You might possibly have some +trouble, otherwise."</p> + +<p>Ravney looked at him sharply. +"They might not want to be free? +I'd thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" Erskyll declared. +"Who ever heard of slaves rebelling +against freedom?"</p> + +<p>Freedom was a Good Thing. It +was a Good Thing for everybody, +everywhere and all the time. Count +Erskyll knew it, because freedom was +a Good Thing for him.</p> + +<p>He thought, suddenly, of an old +tomcat belonging to a lady of his acquaintance +at Paris-on-Baldur, a most +affectionate cat, who insisted on +catching mice and bringing them as +presents to all his human friends. To +this cat's mind, it was inconceivable +that anybody would not be most happy +to receive a nice fresh-killed +mouse.</p> + +<p>"Too bad we have to set any of +them free," Vann Shatrak said. "Too +bad we can't just issue everybody new +servile gorgets marked, <i>Personal Property +of his Imperial Majesty</i> and let +it go at that. But I guess we can't."</p> + +<p>"Commodore Shatrak, you are joking," +Erskyll began.</p> + +<p>"I hope I am," Shatrak replied +grimly.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The top landing-stage of the Citadel +grew and filled the forward viewscreen +of the ship's launch. It was +only when he realized that the tiny +specks were people, and the larger, +birdseed-sized, specks vehicles, that +the real size of the thing was apparent. +Obray of Erskyll, beside him, +had been silent. He had been looking +at the crescent-shaped industrial +city, like a servile gorget around +Zeggensburg's neck.</p> + +<p>"The way they've been crowded together!" +he said. "And the buildings; +no space between. And all that +smoke! They must be using fossil-fuel!"</p> + +<p>"It's probably too hard to process +fissionables in large quantities, with +what they have."</p> + +<p>"You were right, last evening. +These people have deliberately halted +progress, even retrogressed, rather +than give up slavery."</p> + +<p>Halting progress, to say nothing of +retrogression, was an unthinkable +crime to him. Like freedom, progress +was a Good Thing, anywhere, at all +times, and without regard to direction.</p> + +<p>Colonel Ravney met them when +they left the launch. The top landing-stage +was swarming with Imperial +troops.</p> + +<p>"Convocation Chamber's three +stages down," he said. "About two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +thousand of them there now; been +coming in all morning. We have everything +set up." He laughed. "They +tell me slaves are never permitted to +enter it. Maybe, but they have the +place bugged to the ceiling all +around."</p> + +<p>"Bugged? What with?" Shatrak +asked, and Erskyll was wanting to +know what he meant. No doubt he +thought Ravney was talking about +things crawling out of the woodwork.</p> + +<p>"Screen pickups, radio pickups, +wired microphones; you name it and +it's there. I'll bet every slave in the +Citadel knows everything that happens +in there while it's happening."</p> + +<p>Shatrak wanted to know if he had +done anything about them. Ravney +shook his head.</p> + +<p>"If that's how they want to run a +government, that's how they have a +right to run it. Commander Douvrin +put in a few of our own, a little better +camouflaged than theirs."</p> + +<p>There were more troops on the +third stage down. They formed a +procession down a long empty hallway, +a few scared-looking slaves +peeping from doorways at them. +There were more troops where the +corridor ended in great double doors, +emblazoned with a straight broad-sword +diagonally across an eight-pointed +star. Emblematology of planets +conquered by the Space Vikings +always included swords and stars. An +officer gave a signal; the doors started +to slide apart, and within, from a +screen-speaker, came a fanfare of +trumpets.</p> + +<p>At first, all he could see was the +projection-screen, far ahead, and the +<ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'tessallated'">tessellated</ins> aisle stretching toward it. +The trumpets stopped, and they advanced, +and then he saw the Lords-Master.</p> + +<p>They were massed, standing among +benches on either side, and if anything +Pyairr Ravney had understated +their numbers. They all wore black, +trimmed with gold; he wondered if +the coincidence that these were also +the Imperial colors might be useful. +Queer garments, tightly fitted tunics +at the top which became flowing +robes below the waist, deeply scalloped +at the edges. The sleeves were +exaggeratedly wide; a knife or a pistol, +and not necessarily a small one, +could be concealed in every one. He +was sure that thought had entered +Vann Shatrak's mind. They were +armed, not with dress-daggers, but +with swords; long, straight cross-hilted +broadswords. They were the first +actual swords he had ever seen, except +in museums or on the stage.</p> + +<p>There was a bench of gold and +onyx at the front, where, normally +the seven-man Presidium sat, and in +front of it were thronelike seats for +the Chiefs of Managements, equivalent +to the Imperial Council of Ministers. +Because of the projection +screen that had been installed, they +had all been moved to an improvised +dais on the left. There was another +dais on the right, under a canopy of +black and gold velvet, emblazoned +with the gold sun and superimposed +black cogwheel of the Empire. There +were three thrones, for himself, Shatrak,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +and Erskyll, and a number of +lesser but still imposing chairs for +their staffs.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>They took their seats. He slipped +the earplug of his memophone into +his left ear and pressed the stud in +the middle of his Grand Star of the +Order of Odin. The memophone began +giving him the names of the +Presidium and of the Chiefs of Managements. +He wondered how many +upper-slaves had been gunbutted to +produce them.</p> + +<p>"Lords and Gentlemen," he said, +after he had greeted them and introduced +himself and the others, "I speak +to you in the name of his Imperial +Majesty, Rodrik III. His Majesty will +now greet you in his own voice, by +recording."</p> + +<p>He pressed a button on the arm of +his chair. The screen lighted, flickered, +and steadied, and the trumpets +blared again. When the fanfare ended, +a voice thundered:</p> + +<p>"<i>The Emperor speaks!</i>"</p> + +<p>Rodrik III compromised on the +beard question with a small mustache. +He wore the stern but kindly +expression the best theatrical directors +in Asgard had taught him; Public +Face Number Three. He inclined +his head slightly and stiffly, as a man +wearing a seven-pound crown must.</p> + +<p>"We greet our subjects of Aditya to +the fellowship of the Empire. We +have long had good reports of you, +and we are happy now to speak to +you. Deserve well of us, and prosper +under the Sun and Cogwheel."</p> + +<p>Another fanfare, as the image vanished. +Before any of the Lords-Master +could find voice, he was speaking to +them:</p> + +<p>"Well, Lords and Gentlemen, you +have been welcomed into the Empire +by his Majesty. I know, there hasn't +been a ship in or out of this system +for five centuries, and I suppose you +have a great many questions to ask +about the Galactic Empire. Members +of the Presidium and Chiefs of Managements +may address me directly; +others will please address the chairman."</p> + +<p>Olvir Nikkolon, the owner of +Tchall Hozhet, was on his feet at +once. He had a loose-lipped mouth +and a not entirely straight nose and +pale eyes that were never entirely +still.</p> + +<p>"What I want to know is; why did +you people have to come here to +take our planet away from us? Isn't +the rest of the Galaxy big enough for +you?"</p> + +<p>"No, Lord Nikkolon. The Galaxy +is not big enough for any competition +of sovereignty. There must be one +and only one completely sovereign +power. The Terran Federation was +once such a power. It failed, and +vanished; you know what followed. +Darkness and anarchy. We are clawing +our way up out of that darkness. +We will not fail. We will create a +peaceful and unified Galaxy."</p> + +<p>He talked to them, about the collapse +of the old Federation, about the +interstellar wars, about the Neobarbarians, +about the long night. He +told them how the Empire had risen +on a few planets five thousand light-years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +away, and how it had spread.</p> + +<p>"We will not repeat the mistakes +of the Terran Federation. We will not +attempt to force every planetary government +into a common pattern, or +dictate the ways in which they govern +themselves. We will foster in +every way peaceful trade and communication. +But we will not again +permit the plague of competing sovereignties, +the condition under which +war is inevitable. The first attempt to +set up such a sovereignty in competition +with the Empire will be crushed +mercilessly, and no planet inhabited +by any sapient race will be permitted +to remain outside the Empire.</p> + +<p>"Lords and Gentlemen, permit me +to show you a little of what we have +already accomplished, in the past +three hundred years."</p> + +<p>He pressed another button. The +screen flickered, and the show started. +It lasted for almost two hours; he +used a handphone to interject comments +and explanations. He showed +them planet after planet—Marduk, +where the Empire had begun, Baldur, +Vishnu, Belphegor, Morglay, whence +their ancestors had come, Amaterasu, +Irminsul, Fafnir, finally Odin, the +Imperial Planet. He showed towering +cities swarming with aircars; spaceports +where the huge globes of interstellar +ships landed and lifted out; +farms and industries; vast crowds at +public celebrations; troop-reviews +and naval bases and fleet-maneuvers; +historical views of the battles that had +created Imperial power.</p> + +<p>"That, Lords and Gentlemen, is +what you have an opportunity to +bring your planet into. If you accept, +you will continue to rule Aditya under +the Empire. If you refuse, you +will only put us to the inconvenience +of replacing you with a new planetary +government, which will be annoying +for us and, probably, fatal for +you."</p> + +<p>Nobody said anything for a few +minutes. Then Rovard Javasan, the +Chief of Administration and the owner +of the mountainous Khreggor +Chmidd, rose.</p> + +<p>"Lords and Gentlemen, we cannot +resist anything like this," he said. "We +cannot even resist the force they have +here; that was tried yesterday, and +you all saw what happened. Now, +Prince Trevannion; just to what extent +will the Mastership retain its +sovereignty under the Empire?"</p> + +<p>"To practically the same extent as +at present. You will, of course, acknowledge +the Emperor as your supreme +ruler, and will govern subject +to the Imperial Constitution. Have +you any colonies on any of the other +planets of this system?"</p> + +<p>"We had a shipyard and docks on +the inner moon, and we had mines +on the fourth planet of this system, +but it is almost airless and the colony +was limited to a couple of dome-cities. +Both were abandoned years +ago."</p> + +<p>"Both will be reopened before +long, I daresay. We'd better make the +limits of your sovereignty the orbit +of the outer planet of this system. +You may have your own normal-space +ships, but the Empire will control<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +all hyperdrive craft, and all nuclear +weapons. I take it you are the +sole government on this planet? +Then no other will be permitted to +compete with you."</p> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus-022.png" width="500" height="328" alt="" title="" /> +</div></div> + +<p>"Well, what are they taking away +from us, then?" somebody in the rear +asked.</p> + +<p>"I assume that you are agreed to +accept the sovereignty of his Imperial +Majesty? Good. As a matter of +form, Lord Nikkolon, will you take a +vote? His Imperial Majesty would be +most gratified if it were unanimous."</p> + +<p>Somebody insisted that the question +would have to be debated, which +meant that everybody would have to +make a speech, all two thousand of +them. He informed them that there +was nothing to debate; they were +confronted with an accomplished fact +which they must accept. So Nikkolon +made a speech, telling them at what +a great moment in Adityan history +they stood, and concluded by saying:</p> + +<p>"I take it that it is the unanimous +will of this Convocation that the sovereignty +of the Galactic Emperor be +acknowledged, and that we, the 'Mastership +of Aditya' do here proclaim +our loyal allegiance to his Imperial +Majesty, Rodrik the Third. Any dissent? +Then it is ordered so recorded."</p> + +<p>Then he had to make another +speech, to inform the representatives +of his new sovereign of the fact. +Prince Trevannion, in the name of +the Emperor, delivered the well-worn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +words of welcome, and Lanze Degbrend +got the coronet out of the +black velvet bag under his arm and +the Imperial Proconsul, Obray, Count +Erskyll, was crowned. Erskyll's charge-d'affaires, +Sharll Ernanday, produced +the scroll of the Imperial Constitution, +and Erskyll began to read.</p> + +<p>Section One: The universality of +the Empire. The absolute powers of +the Emperor. The rules of succession. +The Emperor also to be Planetary +King of Odin.</p> + +<p>Section Two: Every planetary government +to be sovereign in its own +internal affairs.... Only one sovereign +government upon any planet, +or within normal-space travel distance.... +All hyperspace ships, and +all nuclear weapons.... No planetary +government shall make war ... +enter into any alliance ... tax, regulate +or restrain interstellar trade or +communication.... Every sapient +being shall be equally protected....</p> + +<p>Then he came to Article Six. He +cleared his throat, raised his voice, +and read:</p> + +<p>"<i>There shall be no chattel-slavery +or serfdom anywhere in the Empire; +no sapient being, of any race whatsoever, +shall be the property of any being +but himself.</i>"</p> + +<p>The Convocation Chamber was silent, +like a bomb with a defective +fuse, for all of thirty seconds. Then +it blew up with a roar. Out of the +corner of his eye, he saw the doors +slide apart and an airjeep, bristling +with machine guns, float in and rise +to the ceiling. The first inarticulate +roar was followed by a babel of voices, +like a tropical cloudburst on a +prefab hut. Olvir Nikkolon's mouth +was working as he shouted unheard.</p> + +<p>He pressed another of the row of +buttons on the arm of his chair. Out of +the screen-speaker a voice, as loud, by +actual sound-meter test, as an anti-vehicle +gun, thundered:</p> + +<p>"SILENCE!"</p> + +<p>Into the shocked stillness which it +produced, he spoke, like a schoolmaster +who has returned to find his +room in an uproar:</p> + +<p>"Lord Nikkolon; what is this nonsense? +You are Chairman of the Presidium; +is this how you keep order +here? What is this, a planetary parliament +or a spaceport saloon?"</p> + +<p>"You tricked us!" Nikkolon accused. +"You didn't tell us about that +article when we voted. Why, our +whole society is based on slavery!"</p> + +<p>Other voices joined in:</p> + +<p>"That's all right for you people, +you have robots...."</p> + +<p>"Maybe you don't know it, but +there are twenty million slaves on +this planet...."</p> + +<p>"Look, you can't free slaves! That's +ridiculous. A slave's a <i>slave</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Who'll do the work? And who +would they belong to? They'd have +to belong to somebody!"</p> + +<p>"What I want to know," Rovard +Javasan made himself heard, is, +"<i>how</i> are you going to free them?"</p> + +<p>There was an ancient word, originating +in one of the lost languages of +Pre-Atomic Terra—<i>sixtifor</i>. It meant, +the basic, fundamental, question. Rovard +Javasan, he suspected, had just +asked the sixtifor. Of course, Obray,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +Count Erskyll, Planetary Proconsul of +Aditya, didn't realize that. He didn't +even know what Javasan meant. Just +free them. Commodore Vann Shatrak +couldn't see much of a problem, either. +He would have answered, Just +free them, and then shoot down the +first two or three thousand who took it +seriously. Jurgen, Prince Trevannion, +had no intention whatever of attempting +to answer the sixtifor.</p> + +<p>"My dear Lord Javasan, that is the +problem of the Adityan Mastership. +They are your slaves; we have neither +the intention nor the right to free +them. But let me remind you that +slavery is specifically prohibited by +the Imperial Constitution; if you do +not abolish it immediately, the Empire +will be forced to intervene. I believe, +toward the last of those audio-visuals, +you saw some examples of +Imperial intervention."</p> + +<p>They had. A few looked apprehensively +at the ceiling, as though +expecting the hellburners and planet-busters +and nega-matter-bombs at any +moment. Then one of the members +among the benches rose.</p> + +<p>"We don't know how we are going +to do it, Prince Trevannion," he said. +"We will do it, since this is the Empire +law, but you will have to tell us +how."</p> + +<p>"Well, the first thing will have to +be an Act of Convocation, outlawing +the ownership of one being by another. +Set some definite date on +which the slaves must all be freed; +that need not be too immediate. +Then, I would suggest that you set +up some agency to handle all the details. +And, as soon as you have enacted +the abolition of slavery, which +should be this afternoon, appoint a +committee, say a dozen of you, to confer +with Count Erskyll and myself. +Say you have your committee aboard +the <i>Empress Eulalie</i> in six hours. +We'll have transportation arranged +by then. And let me point out, I +hope for the last time, that we discuss +matters directly, without intermediaries. +We don't want any more +slaves, pardon, freedmen, coming +aboard to talk for you, as happened +yesterday."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Obray, Count Erskyll, was unhappy +about it. He did not think that the +Lords-Master were to be trusted to +abolish slavery; he said so, on the +launch, returning to the ship. Jurgen, +Prince Trevannion was inclined to +agree. He doubted if any of the +Lords-Master he had seen were to be +trusted, unassisted, to fix a broken +mouse-trap.</p> + +<p>Line-Commodore Vann Shatrak +was also worried. He was wondering +how long it would take for Pyairr +Ravney to make useful troops out of +the newly-surrendered slave soldiers, +and where he was going to find contragravity +to shift them expeditiously +from trouble-spot to trouble-spot. Erskyll +thought he was anticipating resistance +on the part of the Masters, +and for once he approved the use of +force. Ordinarily, force was a Bad +Thing, but this was a Good Cause, +which justified any means.</p> + +<p>They entertained the committee +from the Convocation for dinner,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +that evening. They came aboard stiffly +hostile—most understandably so, +under the circumstances—and Prince +Trevannion exerted all his copious +charm to thaw them out, beginning +with the pre-dinner cocktails and +continuing through the meal. By the +time they retired for coffee and +brandy to the parlor where the conference +was to be held, the Lords-ex-Masters +were almost friendly.</p> + +<p>"We've enacted the Emancipation +Act," Olvir Nikkolon, who was ex officio +chairman of the committee, reported. +"Every slave on the planet +must be free before the opening of +the next Midyear Feasts."</p> + +<p>"And when will that be?"</p> + +<p>Aditya, he knew, had a three hundred +and fifty-eight day year; even if +the Midyear Feasts were just past, +they were giving themselves very little +time. In about a hundred and fifty +days, Nikkolon said.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" Erskyll began, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"I should say so, myself," he put +in, cutting off anything else the new +Proconsul might have said. "You gentlemen +are allowing yourselves dangerously +little time. A hundred and +fifty days will pass quite rapidly, and +you have twenty million slaves to deal +with. If you start at this moment and +work continuously, you'll have a little +under a second apiece for each slave."</p> + +<p>The Lords-Master looked dismayed. +So, he was happy to observe, did +Count Erskyll.</p> + +<p>"I assume you have some system of +slave registration?" he continued.</p> + +<p>That was safe. They had a bureaucracy, +and bureaucracies tend to have +registrations of practically everything.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, of course," Rovard Javasan +assured him. "That's your Management, +isn't it, Sesar; Servile Affairs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we have complete data on +every slave on the planet," Sesar +Martwynn, the Chief of Servile Management, +said. "Of course, I'd have to +ask Zhorzh about the details...."</p> + +<p>Zhorzh was Zhorzh Khouzhik, +Martwynn's chief-slave in office.</p> + +<p>"At least, he was my chief-slave; +now you people have taken him away +from me. I don't know what I'm going +to do without him. For that matter, +I don't know what poor Zhorzh +will do, either."</p> + +<p>"Have you gentlemen informed +your chief-slaves that they are free, +yet?"</p> + +<p>Nikkolon and Javasan looked at +each other. Sesar Martwynn laughed.</p> + +<p>"They know," Javasan said. "I must +say they are much disturbed."</p> + +<p>"Well, reassure them, as soon as +you're back at the Citadel," he told +them. "Tell them that while they are +now free, they need not leave you unless +they so desire; that you will provide +for them as before."</p> + +<p>"You mean, we can keep our chief-slaves?" +somebody cried.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course—chief-freedmen, +you'll have to call them, now. You'll +have to pay them a salary...."</p> + +<p>"You mean, give them money?" +Ranal Valdry, the Lord Provost-Marshal +demanded, incredulously. "Pay +our own slaves?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You idiot," somebody told him, +"they aren't our slaves any more. +That's the whole point of this discussion."</p> + +<p>"But ... but how can we pay +slaves?" one of the committeemen-at-large +asked. "Freedmen, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"With money. You do have money, +haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course we have. What do you +think we are, savages?"</p> + +<p>"What kind of money?"</p> + +<p>Why, money; what did he think? +The unit was the star-piece, the stelly. +When he asked to see some of it, +they were indignant. Nobody carried +money; wasn't Masterly. A Master +never even touched the stuff; that +was what slaves were for. He wanted +to know how it was secured, and they +didn't know what he meant, and +when he tried to explain their incomprehension +deepened. It seemed that +the Mastership issued money to finance +itself, and individual Masters +issued money on their personal credit, +and it was handled through the +Mastership Banks.</p> + +<p>"That's Fedrig Daffysan's Management; +he isn't here," Rovard Javasan +said. "I can't explain it, myself."</p> + +<p>And without his chief-slave, Fedrig +Daffysan probably would not be +able to, either.</p> + +<p>"Yes, gentlemen. I understand. +You have money. Now, the first thing +you will have to do is furnish us with +a complete list of all the slave-owners +on the planet, and a list of all the +slaves held by each. This will be sent +back to Odin, and will be the basis +for the compensation to be paid for +the destruction of your property-rights +in these slaves. How much is +a slave worth, by the way?"</p> + +<p>Nobody knew. Slaves were never +sold; it wasn't Masterly to sell one's +slaves. It wasn't even heard of.</p> + +<p>"Well, we'll arrive at some valuation. +Now, as soon as you get back to +the Citadel, talk at once to your former +chief-slaves, and their immediate +subordinates, and explain the situation +to them. This can be passed +down through administrative freedmen +to the workers; you must see to +it that it is clearly understood, at all +levels, that as long as the freedmen +remain at their work they will be provided +for and paid, but that if they +quit your service they will receive +nothing. Do you think you can do +that?"</p> + +<p>"You mean, give them everything +we've been giving them now, and +then pay them money?" Ranal Valdry +almost howled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. You pay them a fixed +wage. You charge them for everything +you give them, and deduct that +from their wages. It will mean considerable +extra bookkeeping, but outside +of that I believe you'll find that +things will go along much as they +always did."</p> + +<p>The Masters had begun to relax, +and by the time he was finished all +of them were smiling in relief. Count +Erskyll, on the other hand, was almost +writhing in his chair. It must be horrible +to be a brilliant young Proconsul +of liberal tendencies and to have +to sit mute while a cynical old Ministerial +Secretary, vastly one's superior<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +in the Imperial Establishment and a +distant cousin of the Emperor to +boot, calmly bartered away the sacred +liberties of twenty million people.</p> + +<p>"But would that be legal, under +the Imperial Constitution?" Olvir +Nikkolon asked.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't have suggested it if it +hadn't been. The Constitution only +forbids physical ownership of one +sapient being by another; it emphatically +does not guarantee anyone an +unearned livelihood."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Convocation committee returned +to Zeggensburg to start preparing +the servile population for +freedom, or reasonable facsimile. The +chief-slaves would take care of that; +each one seemed to have a list of +other chief-slaves, and the word +would spread from them on an each-one-call-five +system. The public announcement +would be postponed until +the word could be passed out to +the upper servile levels. A meeting +with the chief-slaves in office of the +various Managements was scheduled +for the next afternoon.</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll chatted with forced +affability while the departing committeemen +were being seen to the +launch that would take them down. +When the airlock closed behind them, +he drew Prince Trevannion aside out +of earshot of their subordinates.</p> + +<p>"You know what you're doing?" +he raged, in a hoarse whisper. "You're +simply substituting peonage for outright +slavery!"</p> + +<p>"I'd call that something of a step." +He motioned Erskyll into one of the +small hall-cars, climbed in beside +him, and lifted it, starting toward the +living-area. "The Convocation has +acknowledged the principle that sapient +beings should not be property. +That's a great deal, for one day."</p> + +<p>"But the people will remain in +servitude, you know that. The Masters +will keep them in debt, and they'll +be treated just as brutally...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there will be abuses; that's to +be expected. This Freedmen's Management, +nee Servile Management, +will have to take care of that. Better +make a memo to talk with this chief-freedman +of Martwynn's, what's his +name? Zhorzh Khouzhik; that's right, +let Zhorzh do it. Employment Practices Code, +investigation agency, enforcement. +If he can't do the job, +that's not our fault. The Empire does +not guarantee every planet an honest, +intelligent and efficient government; +just a single one."</p> + +<p>"But...."</p> + +<p>"It will take two or three generations. +At first, the freedmen will be +exploited just as they always have +been, but in time there will be protests, +and disorders, and each time, +there will be some small improvement. +A society must evolve, Obray. +Let these people earn their freedom. +Then they will be worthy of it."</p> + +<p>"They should have their freedom +now."</p> + +<p>"This present generation? What +do you think freedom means to +them? <i>We don't have to work, any +more.</i> So down tools and let everything +stop at once. <i>We can do anything +we want to.</i> Let's kill the overseer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +And: <i>Anything that belongs to +the Masters belongs to us; we're +Masters too, now.</i> No, I think it's better, +for the present, to tell them that +this freedom business is just a lot of +Masterly funny-talk, and that things +aren't really being changed at all. It +will effect a considerable saving of +his Imperial Majesty's ammunition, +for one thing."</p> + +<p>He dropped Erskyll at his apartment +and sent the hall-car back from +his own. Lanze Degbrend was waiting +for him when he entered.</p> + +<p>"Ravney's having trouble. That is +the word he used," Degbrend said. +In Pyairr Ravney's lexicon, trouble +meant shooting. "The news of the +Emancipation Act is leaking all over +the place. Some of the troops in the +north who haven't been disarmed yet +are mutinying, and there are slave +insurrections in a number of places."</p> + +<p>"They think the Masters have forsaken +them, and it's every slave for +himself." He hadn't expected that to +start so soon. "The announcement had +better go out as quickly as possible. +And I think we're going to have +some trouble. You have information-taps +into Count Erskyll's numerous +staff? Use them as much as you can."</p> + +<p>"You think he's going to try to +sabotage this employment programme +of yours, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he won't think of it in those +terms. He'll be preventing me from +sabotaging the Emancipation. He +doesn't want to wait three generations; +he wants to free them at once. +Everything has to be at once for six-month-old +puppies, six-year-old children, +and reformers of any age."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The <ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'announcemnet'">announcement</ins> did not go out +until nearly noon the next day. In +terms comprehensible to any low-grade +submoron, it was emphasized +that all this meant was that slaves +should henceforth be called freedmen, +that they could have money just +like Lords-Master, and that if they +worked faithfully and obeyed orders +they would be given everything they +were now receiving. Ravney had been +shuttling troops about, dealing with +the sporadic outbreaks of disorder +here and there: many of these had +been put down, and the rest died out +after the telecast explaining the situation.</p> + +<p>In addition, some of Commander +Douvrin's intelligence people had +discovered that the only source of +fissionables and radioactives for the +planet was a complex of uranite +mines, separation plants, refineries +and reaction-plants on the smaller of +Aditya's two continents, Austragonia. +In spite of other urgent calls on his +resources, Ravney landed troops to +seize these, and a party of engineers +followed them down from the <i>Empress +Eulalie</i> to make an inspection.</p> + +<p>At lunch, Count Erskyll was slightly +less <ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'intransigeant'">intransigent</ins> on the subject +of the wage-employment proposals. +No doubt some of his advisors had +been telling him what would happen +if any appreciable number of Aditya's +labor-force stopped work suddenly, +and the wave of uprisings that had +broken out before any public announcement +had been made puzzled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +him. He was also concerned about +finding a suitable building for a proconsular +palace; the business of the +Empire on Aditya could not be conducted +long from shipboard.</p> + +<p>Going down to the Citadel that +afternoon, they found the chief-freedmen +of the non-functional Chiefs of +Management assembled in a large +room on the fifth level down. There +was a cluster of big tables and communication-screens +and wired telephones +in the middle, with smaller +tables around them, at which freedmen +in variously colored gowns sat. +The ones at the central tables, a dozen +and a half, all wore chief-slaves' +white gowns.</p> + +<p>Trevannion and Erskyll and Patrique +Morvill and Lanze Degbrend +joined these; subordinates guided the +rest of the party—a couple of Ravney's +officers and Erskyll's numerous +staff of advisors and specialists—to +distribute themselves with their opposite +numbers in the Mastership. +Everybody on the Adityan side +seemed uneasy with these strange +hermaphrodite creatures who were +neither slaves nor Lords-Master.</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen," Count Erskyll +began, "I suppose you have been informed +by your former Lords-Master +of how relations between them and +you will be in the future?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Lord Proconsul," Khreggor +Chmidd replied happily. "Everything +will be just as before, except +that the Lords-Master will be called +Lords-Employer, and the slaves will +be called freedmen, and any time they +want to starve to death, they can +leave their Employers if they wish."</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll frowned. That wasn't +just exactly what he had hoped +Emancipation would mean to these +people.</p> + +<p>"Nobody seems to understand +about this money thing, though," +Zhorzh Khouzhik, Sesar Martwynn's +chief-freedman said. "My Lord-Master—" +He slapped himself across the +mouth and said, "Lord-Employer!" +five times, rapidly. "My Lord-<i>Employer</i> +tried to explain it to me, but I +don't think he understands very +clearly, himself."</p> + +<p>"None of them do."</p> + +<p>The speaker was a small man with +pale eyes and a mouth like a rat-trap; +Yakoop Zhannar, chief-freedman +to Ranal Valdry, the Provost-Marshal.</p> + +<p>"Its really your idea, Prince Trevannion," +Erskyll said. "Perhaps you +can explain it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's very simple. You see...."</p> + +<p>At least, it had seemed simple +when he started. Labor was a commodity, +which the worker sold and +the employer purchased; a "fair +wage" was one which enabled both +to operate at a profit. Everybody knew +that—except here on Aditya. On +Aditya, a slave worked because he +was a slave, and a Master provided +for him because he was a Master, and +that was all there was to it. But now, +it seemed, there weren't any more +Masters, and there weren't any more +slaves.</p> + +<p>"That's exactly it," he replied, +when somebody said as much. "So +now, if the slaves, I mean, freedmen,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +want to eat, they have to work to +earn money to buy food, and if the +Employers want work done, they +have to pay people to do it."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;"> +<img src="images/illus-030.png" width="225" height="700" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Then why go to all the trouble +about the money?" That was an elderly +chief-freedman, Mykhyl Eschkhaffar, +whose Lord-Employer, Oraze +Borztall, was Manager of Public +Works. "Before your ships came, the +slaves worked for the Masters, and the +Masters took care of the slaves, and +everybody was content. Why not +leave it like that?"</p> + +<p>"Because the Galactic Emperor, +who is the Lord-Master of these people, +says that there must be no more +slaves. Don't ask me why," Tchall +Hozhet snapped at him. "I don't +know, either. But they are here with +ships and guns and soldiers; what +can we do?"</p> + +<p>"That's very close to it," he admitted. +"But there is one thing you +haven't considered. A slave only gets +what his master gives him. But a free +worker for pay gets money which he +can spend for whatever he wants, +and he can save money, and if he +finds that he can make more money +working for somebody else, he can +quit his employer and get a better +job."</p> + +<p>"We hadn't thought of that," +Khreggor Chmidd said. "A slave, +even a chief-slave, was never allowed +to have money of his own, and if he +got hold of any, he couldn't spend it. +But now...." A glorious vista +seemed to open in front of him. "And +he can accumulate money. I don't +suppose a common worker could, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +an upper slave.... Especially a +chief-slave...." He slapped his +mouth, and said, "Freedman!" five +times.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Khreggor." That was Ridgerd +Schferts (Fedrig Daffysan; Fiscal +Management). "I am sure we could +all make quite a lot of money, now +that we are freedmen."</p> + +<p>Some of them were briefly puzzled; +gradually, comprehension +dawned. Obray, Count Erskyll, looked +distressed; he seemed to be hoping, +vainly, that they weren't thinking of +what he suspected they were.</p> + +<p>"How about the Mastership freedmen?" +another asked. "We, here, will +be paid by our Lords-Mas- ... +Lords-Employer. But everybody from +the green robes down were provided +for by the Mastership. Who will pay +them, now?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the Mastership, of course," +Ridgerd Schferts said. "My Management—my +Lord-Employer's, I mean—will +issue the money to pay them."</p> + +<p>"You may need a new printing-press," +Lanze Degbrend said. "And +an awful lot of paper."</p> + +<p>"This planet will need currency +acceptable in interstellar trade," Erskyll +said.</p> + +<p>Everybody looked blankly at him. +He changed the subject:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chmidd, could you or Mr. +Hozhet tell me what kind of a constitution +the Mastership has?"</p> + +<p>"You mean, like the paper you +read in the Convocation?" Hozhet +asked. "Oh, there is nothing at all like +that. The former Lords-Master simply +ruled."</p> + +<p>No. They reigned. This servile +<i>tammanihal</i>—another ancient Terran +word, of uncertain origin—ruled.</p> + +<p>"Well, how is the Mastership organized, +then?" Erskyll persisted. +"How did the Lord Nikkolon get to +be Chairman of the Presidium, and +the Lord Javasan to be Chief of Administration?"</p> + +<p>That was very simple. The Convocation, +consisting of the heads of all +the Masterly families, actually small +clans, numbered about twenty-five +hundred. They elected the seven +members of the Presidium, who drew +lots for the Chairmanship. They +served for life. Vacancies were filled +by election on nomination of the +surviving members. The Presidium +appointed the Chiefs of Managements, +who also served for life.</p> + +<p>At least, it had stability. It was +self-perpetuating.</p> + +<p>"Does the Convocation make the +laws?" Erskyll asked.</p> + +<p>Hozhet was perplexed. "<i>Make</i> +laws, Lord Proconsul? Oh, no. We +have laws."</p> + +<p>There were planets, here and +there through the Empire, where an +attitude like that would have been +distinctly beneficial; planets with +elective parliaments, every member +of which felt himself obligated to get +as many laws enacted during his term +of office as possible.</p> + +<p>"But this is dreadful; you <i>must</i> +have a constitution!" Obray of Erskyll +was shocked. "We will have to +get one drawn up and adopted."</p> + +<p>"We don't know anything about +that at all," Khreggor Chmidd admitted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +"This is something new. You +will have to help us."</p> + +<p>"I certainly will, Mr. Chmidd. Suppose +you form a committee—yourself, +and Mr. Hozhet, and three or +four others; select them among yourselves—and +we can get together and +talk over what will be needed. And +another thing. We'll have to stop +calling this the Mastership. There are +no more Masters."</p> + +<p>"The Employership?" Lanze Degbrend +dead-panned.</p> + +<p>Erskyll looked at him angrily. +"This is something," he told the +chief-freedmen, "that should not belong +to the Employers alone. It +should belong to everybody. Let us +call it the Commonwealth. That +means something everybody owns in +common."</p> + +<p>"Something everybody owns, nobody +owns," Mykhyl Eschkhaffar objected.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Mykhyl; it will belong to +everybody," Khreggor Chmidd told +him earnestly. "But somebody will +have to take care of it for everybody. +That," he added complacently, +"will be you and me and the rest of +us here."</p> + +<p>"I believe," Yakoop Zhannar said, +almost smiling, "that this freedom is +going to be a wonderful thing. For +us."</p> + +<p>"I don't like it!" Mykhyl Eschkhaffar +said stubbornly. "Too many new +things, and too much changing names. +We have to call slaves freedmen; we +have to call Lords Master Lords-Employer; +we have to call the Management +of Servile Affairs the Management +for Freedmen. Now we have to +call the Mastership this new name, +Commonwealth. And all these new +things, for which we have no routine +procedures and no directives. I wish +these people had never heard of this +planet."</p> + +<p>"That makes at least two of us," Patrique +Morvill said, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well, the planetary constitution +can wait just a bit," Prince Trevannion +suggested. "We have a great +many items on the agenda which +must be taken care of immediately. +For instance, there's this thing about +finding a proconsular palace...."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A surprising amount of work had +been done at the small tables where +Erskyll's staff of political and economic +and technological experts had +been conferring with the subordinate +upper-freedmen. It began coming out +during the pre-dinner cocktails +aboard the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>, continued +through the meal, and was fully +detailed during the formal debriefing +session afterward.</p> + +<p>Finding a suitable building for the +Proconsular Palace would present difficulties. +Real estate was not sold on +Aditya, any more than slaves were. It +was not only un-Masterly but illegal; +estates were all entailed and the inalienable +property of Masterly families. +What was wanted was one of the +isolated residential towers in Zeggensburg, +far enough from the Citadel +to avoid an appearance of too +close supervision. The last thing anybody +wanted was to establish the +Proconsul in the Citadel itself. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +Management of Business of the Mastership, +however, had promised to do +something about it. That would +mean, no doubt, that the <i>Empress +Eulalie</i> would be hanging over Zeggensburg, +serving as Proconsular Palace, +for the next year or so.</p> + +<p>The Servile Management, rechristened +Freedmen's Management, +would undertake to safeguard the +rights of the newly emancipated +slaves. There would be an Employment +Code—Count Erskyll was invited +to draw that up—and a force of +investigators, and an enforcement +agency, under Zhorzh Khouzhik.</p> + +<p>One of Commander Douvrin's +men, who had been at the Austragonia +nuclear-industries establishment, +was present and reported:</p> + +<p>"Great Ghu, you ought to see that +place! They've people working in +places I wouldn't send an unshielded +robot, and the hospital there is bulging +with radiation-sickness cases. The +equipment must have been brought +here by the Space Vikings. What's +left of it is the damnedest mess of +goldbergery I ever saw. The whole +thing ought to be shut down and +completely rebuilt."</p> + +<p>Erskyll wanted to know who owned +it. The Mastership, he was told.</p> + +<p>"That's right," one of his economics +men agreed. "Management of Public +Works." That would be Mykhyl +Eschkhaffar, who had so bitterly objected +to the new nomenclature. "If +anybody needs fissionables for a power-reactor +or radioactives for nuclear-electric +conversion, his chief business +slave gets what's needed. Furthermore, +doesn't even have to sign for it."</p> + +<p>"Don't they sell it for revenue?"</p> + +<p>"Nifflheim, no! This government +doesn't need revenue. This government +supports itself by counterfeiting. +When the Mastership needs +money, they just have Ridgerd +Schferts print up another batch. Like +everybody else."</p> + +<p>"Then the money simply isn't +worth anything!" Erskyll was horrified, +which was rapidly becoming his +normal state.</p> + +<p>"Who cares about money, Obray," +he said. "Didn't you hear them, last +evening? It's un-Masterly to bother +about things like money. Of course, +everybody owes everybody for everything, +but it's all in the family."</p> + +<p>"Well, something will have to be +done about that!"</p> + +<p>That was at least the tenth time +he had said that, this evening.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It came practically as a thunderbolt +when Khreggor Chmidd screened +the ship the next afternoon to report +that a Proconsular Palace had been +found, and would be ready for occupancy +in a day or so. The chief-freedmen +of the Management of +Business of the Mastership and of the +Lord Chief Justiciar had found one, +the Elegry Palace, which had been +unoccupied except for what he described +as a small caretaking staff for +years, while two Masterly families +disputed inheritance rights and slave +lawyers quibbled endlessly before a +slave judge. The chief freedman of +the Lord Chief Justiciar had simply +summoned judge and lawyers into his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +office and ordered them to settle the +suit at once. The settlement had consisted +of paying both litigants the +full value of the building; this came +to fifty million stellies apiece. Arbitrarily, +the stelly was assigned a value +in Imperial crowns of a hundred for +one. A million crowns was about what +the building would be worth, with +contents, on Odin. It would be paid +for with a draft on the Imperial Exchequer.</p> + +<p>"Well, you have some hard currency +on the planet, now," he told +Count Erskyll, while they were having a pre-dinner +drink together that +evening. "I hope it doesn't touch off +an inflation, if the term is permissible +when applied to Adityan currency."</p> + +<p>Erskyll snapped his fingers. "Yes! +And there's the money we've been +spending for supplies. And when we +start compensation payments.... +Excuse me for a moment."</p> + +<p>He dashed off, his drink in his +hand. After a long interval, he was +back, carrying a fresh one he had +gotten from a bartending robot en +route.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's taken care of," he +said. "My fiscal man's getting in +touch with Ridgerd Schferts; the +Elegry heirs will be paid in Adityan +stellies, and the Imperial crowns will +be held in the Commonwealth Bank, +or, better, banked in Asgard, to give +Aditya some off-planet credit. And +we'll do the same with our other expenditures, +and with the slave-compensation. +This is going to be wonderful; +this planet needs everything +in the way of industrial equipment; +this is how they're going to get it."</p> + +<p>"But, Obray; the compensations are +owing to the individual Masters. They +should be paid in crowns. You know +as well as I do that this hundred-for-one +rate is purely a local fiction. On +the interstellar exchange, these stellies +have a crown value of precisely +zero-point-zero."</p> + +<p>"You know what would happen if +these ci-devant Masters got hold of +Imperial crowns," Erskyll said. +"They'd only squander them back +again for useless imported luxuries. +This planet needs a complete modernization, +and this is the only way +the money to pay for it can be gotten." +He was gesturing excitedly with +the almost-full glass in his hand; +Prince Trevannion stepped back out +of the way of the splash he anticipated. +"I have no sympathy for these +ci-devant Masters. They own every +stick and stone and pinch of dust on +this planet, as it is. Is that fair?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly not. But neither is what +you're proposing to do."</p> + +<p>Obray, Count Erskyll, couldn't see +that. He was proposing to secure the +Greatest Good for the Greatest Number, +and to Nifflheim with any minorities +who happened to be in the +way.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Navy took over the Elegry +Palace the next morning, ran up the +Imperial Sun and Cogwheel flag, and +began transmitting views of its interior +up to the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>. It was +considerably smaller than the Imperial +Palace at Asgard on Odin, but +room for room the furnishings were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +rather more ornate and expensive. +By the next afternoon, the counter-espionage +team that had gone down +reported the Masterly living quarters +clear of pickups, microphones, and +other apparatus of servile snooping, +of which they had found many. The +<i>Canopus</i> was recalled from her station +over the northern end of the +continent and began sending down +the proconsulate furnishings stowed +aboard, including several hundred domestic +robots.</p> + +<p>The skeleton caretaking staff +Chmidd had mentioned proved to +number five hundred.</p> + +<p>"What are we going to do about +them?" Erskyll wanted to know. +"There's a limit to the upkeep allowance +for a proconsulate, and we +can't pay five hundred useless servants. +The chief-freedman, and about a +dozen assistants, and a few to operate +the robots, when we train them, but +five hundred...!"</p> + +<p>"Let Zhorzh do it," Prince Trevannion +suggested. "Isn't that what this +Freedmen's Management is for; to +find employment for emancipated +slaves? Just emancipate them and +turn them over to Khouzhik."</p> + +<p>Khouzhik promptly placed all of +them on the payroll of his Management. +Khouzhik was having his hands +full. He had all his top mathematical +experts, some of whom even understood +the use of the slide-rule, trying +to work up a scale of wages. Erskyll +loaned him a few of his staff. None of +the ideas any of them developed +proved workable. Khouzhik had also +organized a corps of investigators, +and he was beginning to annex the +private guard-companies of the Lords-ex-Master, +whom he was organizing +into a police force.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The nuclear works on Austragonia +were closed down. Mykhyl Eschkhaffar +ordered a programme of rationing +and priorities to conserve the +stock of plutonium and radioactive +isotopes on hand, and he decided +that henceforth nuclear-energy materials +would be sold instead of furnished +freely. He simply found out +what the market quotations on Odin +were, translated that into stellies, and +adopted it. This was just a base price; +there would have to be bribes for +priority allocations, rakeoffs for the +under-freedmen, and graft for the +business-freedmen of the Lords-ex-Masters +who bought the stuff. The +latter were completely unconcerned; +none of them even knew about it.</p> + +<p>The Convocation adjourned until +the next regular session, at the Midyear +Feasts, an eight-day intercalary +period which permitted dividing the +358-day Adityan year into ten months +of thirty-five days each. Count Erskyll +was satisfied to see them go. He +was working on a constitution for the +Commonwealth of Aditya, and was +making very little progress with it.</p> + +<p>"It's one of these elaborate check-and-balance +things," Lanze Degbrend +reported. "To begin with, it was the +constitution of Aton, with an elective +president substituted for a hereditary +king. Of course, there are a lot of +added gadgets; Atonian Radical Democrat +stuff. Chmidd and Hozhet and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +the other chief-slaves don't like it, +either."</p> + +<p>"Slap your mouth and say, 'Freedmen,' +five times."</p> + +<p>"Nuts," his subordinate retorted +insubordinately. "I know a slave +when I see one. A slave is a slave, +with or without a gorget; if he doesn't +wear it around his neck, he has it +<ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'tattoed'">tattooed</ins> on his soul. It takes at least +three generations to rub it off."</p> + +<p>"I could wish that Count Erskyll...." +he began. "What else is our +Proconsul doing?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid he's trying to set +up some kind of a scheme for the +complete nationalization of all +farms, factories, transport facilities, +and other means of production and +distribution," Degbrend said.</p> + +<p>"He's not going to try to do that +himself, is he?" He was, he discovered, +speaking sharply, and modified +his tone. "He won't do it with Imperial +authority, or with Imperial +troops. Not as long as I'm here. And +when we go back to Odin, I'll see to it +that Vann Shatrak understands that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. The Commonwealth of +Aditya will do that," Degbrend said. +"Chmidd and Hozhet and Yakoop +Zhannar and Zhorzh Khouzhik and +the rest of them, that is. He wants it +done legitimately and legally. That +means, he'll have to wait till the +Midyear Feasts, when the Convocation +assembles, and he can get his +constitution enacted. If he can get it +written by then."</p> + +<p>Vann Shatrak sent two of the destroyers +off to explore the moons of +Aditya, of which there were two. The +outer moon, Aditya-<i>Ba'</i>, was an irregular +chunk of rock fifty miles in +diameter, barely visible to the naked +eye. The inner, Aditya-<i>Alif</i>, however, +was an eight-hundred-mile +sphere; it had once been the planetary +ship-station and shipyard-base. +It seemed to have been abandoned +when the Adityan technology and +economy had begun sagging under +the weight of the slave system. Most +of the installations remained, badly +run down but repairable. Shatrak +transferred as many of his technicians +as he could spare to the <i>Mizar</i> +and sent her to recondition the shipyard +and render the underground +city inhabitable again so that the +satellite could be used as a base for +his ships. He decided, then, to send +the <i>Irma</i> back to Odin with reports +of the annexation of Aditya, a proposal +that Aditya-<i>Alif</i> be made a +permanent Imperial naval-base, and +a request for more troops.</p> + +<p>Prince Trevannion taped up his +own reports, describing the general +situation on the newly annexed planet, +and doing nothing to minimize +the problems facing its Proconsul.</p> + +<p>"Count Erskyll" he finished, "is +doing the best possible under circumstances +from which I myself +would feel inclined to shrink. If not +carried to excess, perhaps youthful +idealism is not without value in Empire +statecraft. I understand that +Commodore Shatrak, who is also coping +with some very trying problems, +is requesting troop reenforcements. +I believe this request amply justified, +and would recommend that they be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +gotten here as speedily as possible.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 223px;"> +<img src="images/illus-037.png" width="223" height="700" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"I understand that he is also recommending +a permanent naval base +on the larger of this planet's two +satellites. This I also endorse unreservedly. +It would have a most <ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'salutory'">salutary</ins> +effect on the local government. +I would further recommend that +Commodore Shatrak be placed in +command of it, with suitable promotion, +which he has long ago earned."</p> + +<p>Erskyll was surprised that he was +not himself returning to Odin on the +destroyer, and evidently disturbed. +He mentioned it during pre-dinner +cocktails that evening.</p> + +<p>"I know, my own work here is +finished; was the moment the Convocation +voted acknowledgment of +Imperial rule." Prince Trevannion +replied. "I would like to stay on for +the Midyear Feasts, though. The +Convocation will vote on your constitution, +and I would like to be able +to report their action to the Prime +Minister. How is it progressing, by +the way?"</p> + +<p>"Well, we have a rough draft. I +don't care much for it, myself, but +Citizen Hozhet and Citizen Chmidd +and Citizen Zhannar and the others +are most enthusiastic, and, after all, +they are the ones who will have to +operate under it."</p> + +<p>The Masterly estates would be the +representative units; from each, the +freedmen would elect representatives +to regional elective councils, and +these in turn would elect representatives +to a central electoral council +which would elect a Supreme People's +Legislative Council. This would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +not only function as the legislative +body, but would also elect a Manager-in-Chief, +who would appoint +the Chiefs of Management, who, in +turn, would appoint their own subordinates.</p> + +<p>"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, "I suppose +it will take a little time for +them to learn democracy." This was +the first time he had come out and +admitted that. "There is to be a Constituent +Convention in five years, to +draw up a new constitution."</p> + +<p>"How about the Convocation? +You don't expect them to vote themselves +out of existence, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we're keeping the Convocation, +in the present constitution, but +they won't have any power. Five +years from now, we'll be rid of them +entirely. Look here; you're not going +to work against this, are you? You +won't advise these ci-devant Lords-Master +to vote against it, when it +comes up?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I think your constitution—Khreggor +Chmidd's and +Tchall Hozhet's, to be exact—will be +nothing short of a political disaster, +but it will insure some political stability, +which is all that matters from +the Imperial point of view. An Empire +statesman must always guard +against sympathizing with local factions +and interests, and I can think of +no planet on which I could be safer +from any such temptation. If these +Lords-Master want to vote their +throats cut, and the slaves want to +re-enslave themselves, they may all +do so with my complete blessing."</p> + +<p>If he had been at all given to +dramatic gestures he would then +have sent for water and washed his +hands.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Metaphorically, he did so at that +moment; thereafter his interest in +Adityan affairs was that of a spectator +at a boring and stupid show, +watching only because there is nothing +else to watch, and wishing that +it had been possible to have returned +to Odin on the <i>Irma</i>. The Prime +Minister, however, was entitled to a +full and impartial report, which he +would scarcely get from Count Erskyll, +on this new jewel in the Imperial +Crown. To be able to furnish +that, he would have to remain until +the Midyear 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 recognizable +as such by the Empire, which +was already recognizing some fairly +unlikely-looking governments. In +either case, too, Aditya would make +nobody on any other planet any trouble. +It wouldn't have, at least for a +long time, even if it had been left +unannexed, but no planet inhabited +by Terro-humans could be trusted to +remain permanently peaceful and +isolated. There is a spark of aggressive +ambition in every Terro-human +people, no matter how debased, +which may smoulder for centuries or +even millennia and then burst,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +fanned by some random wind, into +flame. To shift the metaphor slightly, +the Empire could afford to leave no +unwatched pots around to boil over +unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>Occasionally, he did warn young +Erskyll of the dangers of overwork +and emotional over-involvement. +Each time, the Proconsul would pour +out some tale of bickering and rivalry +among the chief-freedmen of the +Managements. Citizen Khouzhik and +Citizen Eschkhaffar—they were all +calling each other Citizen, now—were +contesting overlapping jurisdictions. +Khouzhik wanted to change +the name of his Management—he +no longer bothered mentioning Sesar +Martwynn—to Labor and Industry. +To this, Mykhyl Eschkhaffar objected +vehemently; any Industry that was +going to be managed would be managed +by his—Oraze Borztall was similarly +left unmentioned—management +of Public Works. And they +were also feuding about the robotic +and remote-controlled equipment +that had been sent down from the +<i>Empress Eulalie</i> to the Austragonia +nuclear-power works.</p> + +<p>Khouzhik was also in controversy +with Yakoop Zhannar, who was already +calling himself People's Provost-Marshal. +Khouzhik had taken +over all the private armed-guards on +the Masterly farms and in the factories, +and assimilated them into something +he was calling the People's +Labor Police, ostensibly to enforce +the new Code of Employment Practice. +Zhannar insisted that they +should be under his Management; +when Chmidd and Hozhet supported +Khouzhik, he began clamoring for +the return of the regular army to his +control.</p> + +<p>Commodore Shatrak was more +than glad to get rid of the Adityan +army, and so was Pyairr Ravney, who +was in immediate command of them. +The Adityans didn't care one way or +the other. Zhannar was delighted, and +so were Chmidd and Hozhet. So, +oddly, was Zhorzh Khouzhik. At the +same time, the state of martial law +proclaimed on the day of the landing +was terminated.</p> + +<p>The days slipped by. There were +entertainments at the new Proconsular +Palace for the Masterly residents +of Zeggensburg, and Erskyll and his +staff were entertained at Masterly +palaces. The latter affairs pained +Prince Trevannion excessively—hours +on end of gorging uninspired +cooking and guzzling too-sweet wine +and watching ex-slave performers +whose acts were either brutal or obscene +and frequently both, and, more +unforgivable, stupidly so. The Masterly +conversation was simply stupid.</p> + +<p>He borrowed a reconn-car from +Ravney; he and Lanze Degbrend +and, usually, one or another of Ravney's +young officers, took long trips +of exploration. They fished in mountain +streams, and hunted the small +deerlike game, and he found himself +enjoying these excursions more than +anything he had done in recent +years; certainly anything since Aditya +had come into the viewscreens of +the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>. Once in a while, +they claimed and received Masterly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +hospitality at some large farming estate. +They were always greeted with +fulsome cordiality, and there was always +surprise that persons of their +rank and consequence should travel +unaccompanied by a retinue of servants.</p> + +<p>He found things the same wherever +he stopped. None of the farms +were producing more than a quarter +of the potential yield per acre, and +all depleting the soil outrageously. +Ten slaves—he didn't bother to +think of them as freedmen—doing +the work of one, and a hundred of +them taking all day to do what one +robot would have done before noon. +White-gowned chief-slaves lording it +over green and orange gowned supervisors +and clerks; overseers still +carrying and frequently using whips +and knouts and sandbag flails.</p> + +<p>Once or twice, when a Masterly +back was turned, he caught a look of +murderous hatred flickering into the +eyes of some upper-slave. Once or +twice, when a Master thought his +was turned, he caught the same look +in Masterly eyes, directed at him or +at Lanze.</p> + +<p>The Midyear Feasts approached; +each time he returned to the city he +found more excitement as preparations +went on. Mykhyl Eschkhaffar's +Management of Public Works +was giving top priority to redecorating +the Convocation Chamber and +the lounges and dining-rooms around +it in which the Masters would relax +during recesses. More and more +Masterly families flocked in from +outlying estates, with contragravity-flotillas +and retinues of attendants, +to be entertained at the city palaces. +There were more and gaudier banquets +and balls and entertainments. +By the time the Feasts began, every +Masterly man, woman and child +would be in the city.</p> + +<p>There were long columns of military +contragravity coming in, too; +troop-carriers and combat-vehicles. +Yakoop Zhannar was bringing in all +his newly recovered army, and Zhorzh +Khouzhik his newly organized People's +Labor Police. Vann Shatrak, +who was now commanding his battle-line +unit by screen from the Proconsular +Palace, began fretting.</p> + +<p>"I wish I hadn't been in such a +hurry to terminate martial rule," he +said, once. "And I wish Pyairr hadn't +been so confoundedly efficient in retraining +those troops. That may cost +us a few extra casualties, before we're +through."</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll laughed at his worries.</p> + +<p>"It's just this rivalry between Citizen +Khouzhik and Citizen Zhannar," +he said, "They're like a couple of ci-devant +Lords-Master competing to +give more extravagant feasts. Zhannar's +going to hold a review of his +troops, and of course, Khouzhik intends +to hold a review of his police. +That's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>"Well, just the same, I wish some +reenforcements would get here from +Odin," Shatrak said.</p> + +<p>Erskyll was busy, in the days before +the Midyear Feasts, either conferring +at the Citadel with the ex-slaves +who were the functional heads<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +of the Managements or at the Proconsular +Palace with Hozhet and +Chmidd and the chief-freedmen of +the influential Convocation leaders +and Presidium members. Everybody +was extremely optimistic about the +constitution.</p> + +<p>He couldn't quite understand the +optimism, himself.</p> + +<p>"If I were one of these Lords-Master, +I wouldn't even consider the +thing," he told Erskyll. "I know, +they're stupid, but I can't believe +they're stupid enough to commit suicide, +and that's what this amounts +to."</p> + +<p>"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 in the new constitution that will +be drawn up five years from now. +And that will be the end of them. +All the big estates, and the factories +and mines and contragravity-ship +lines will be nationalized."</p> + +<p>"And they'll have nothing at all, +except a hamper-full of repudiated +paper stellies," he finished. "That's +what I mean. What makes you think +they'll be willing to vote for that?"</p> + +<p>"They don't know they're voting +for it. They'll think they're voting to +keep control of the Mastership. People +like Olvir Nikkolon and Rovard +Javasan and Ranal Valdry and Sesar +Martwynn think they still own their +chief-freedmen; they think Hozhet +and Chmidd and Zhannar and Khouzhik +will do exactly what they tell +them. And they believe anything +the Hozhets and Chmidds and Zhannars +tell them. And every chief-freedman +is telling his Lord-Employer +that the only way they can +keep control is by adopting the constitution; +that they can control the +elections on their estates, and hand-pick +the People's Legislative Council. +I tell you, Prince Trevannion, the +<ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'constituion'">constitution</ins> is as good as enacted."</p> + +<p>Two days before the opening of +the Convocation, the <i>Irma</i> came into +radio-range, five light-hours away, +and began transmitting in taped +matter at sixty-speed. Erskyll's report +and his own acknowledged; a routine +"well done" for the successful annexation. +Commendation for Shatrak's +handling of the landing operation. +Orders to take over Aditya-<i>Alif</i> and +begin construction of a permanent +naval base. Notification of promotion +to base-admiral, and blank commission +as line-commodore; that +would be Patrique Morvill. And advice +that one transport-cruiser, <i>Algol</i>, +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.</p> + +<p>"Fifteen days, great Ghu! And +those tubs won't make near the speed +of <i>Irma</i>, getting here. We'll be lucky +to see them in twenty. And Beelzebub +only knows what'll be going on +here then."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Four times, the big screen failed +to respond. They were all crowded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +into one of the executive conference-rooms +at the Proconsular Palace, the +batteries of communication and recording +equipment incongruously +functional among the gold-encrusted +luxury of the original Masterly +furnishings. Shatrak swore.</p> + +<p>"Andrey, I thought your people had +planted those pickups where they +couldn't be found," he said to Commander +Douvrin.</p> + +<p>"There is no such place, sir," the +intelligence officer replied. "Just +places where things are hard to +find."</p> + +<p>"Did you mention our pickups to +Chmidd or Hozhet or any of the rest +of the shaveheads?" Shatrak asked +Erskyll.</p> + +<p>"No. I didn't even know where +they were. And it was the freedmen +who found them," Erskyll said. "I +don't know why they wouldn't want +us looking in."</p> + +<p>Lanze Degbrend, at the screen, +twisted the dial again, and this time +the screen flickered and cleared, and +they were looking into the Convocation +Chamber from the extreme rear, +above the double doors. Far away, in +front, Olvir Nikkolon was rising behind +the gold and onyx bench, and +from the speaker the call bell tolled +slowly, and the buzz of over two +thousand whispering voices diminished. +Nikkolon began to speak:</p> + +<p>"Seven and a half centuries ago, +our fathers went forth from Morglay +to plant upon this planet a new +banner...."</p> + +<p>It was evidently a set speech, one +he had recited year after year, and +every Lord Chairman of the Presidium +before him. The splendid traditions. +The glories of the Masterly +race. The all-conquering Space Vikings. +The proud heritage of the +Sword-Worlds. Lanze was fiddling +with the control knobs, stepping up +magnification and focusing on the +speaker's head and shoulders. Then +everybody laughed; Nikkolon had a +small plug in one ear, with a fine +wire running down to vanish under +his collar. Degbrend brought back +the full view of the Convocation +Chamber.</p> + +<p>Nikkolon went on and on. Vann +Shatrak summoned a robot to furnish +him with a cold beer and another +cigar. Erskyll was drumming an impatient +devil's tattoo with his fingernails +on the gold-encrusted table in +front of him. Lanze Degbrend began +interpolating sarcastic comments. +And finally, Pyairr Ravney, who came +from Lugaluru, reverted to the idiom +of his planet's favorite sport:</p> + +<p>"Come on, come on; turn out the +bull! What's the matter, is the gate +stuck?"</p> + +<p>If so, it came quickly unstuck, and +the bull emerged, pawing and snorting.</p> + +<p>"This year, other conquerors have +come to Aditya, here to plant another +banner, the Sun and Cogwheel +of the Galactic Empire, and I blush +to say it, we are as helpless against +these conquerors as were the miserable +barbarians and their wretched +serfs whom our fathers conquered +seven hundred and sixty-two years +ago, whose descendants, until this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +black day, had been our slaves."</p> + +<p>He continued, his voice growing +more impassioned and more <ins class="corr" title="Original reads 'belligerant'">belligerent</ins>. +Count Erskyll fidgeted. This wasn't +the way the Chmidd-Hozhet Constitution +ought to be introduced.</p> + +<p>"So, perforce, we accepted the sovereignty +of this alien Empire. We are +now the subjects of his Imperial +Majesty, Rodrik III. We must govern +Aditya subject to the Imperial Constitution." +(Groans, boos; catcalls, if +the Adityan equivalent of cats made +noises like that.) "At one stroke, this +Constitution has abolished our peculiar +institution, upon which is based +our entire social structure. This I +know. But this same Imperial Constitution +is a collapsium-strong +shielding; let me call your attention +to Article One, Section Two: <i>Every +Empire planet shall be self-governed +as to its own affairs, in the manner of +its own choice and without interference.</i> +Mark this well, for it is our +guarantee that this government, of +the Masters, by the Masters, and for +the Masters, shall not perish from +Aditya." (Prolonged cheering.)</p> + +<p>"Now, these arrogant conquerors +have overstepped their own supreme +law. They have written for this Mastership +a constitution, designed for +the sole purpose of accomplishing +the liquidation of the Masterly class +and race. They have endeavored to +force this planetary constitution upon +us by threats of force, and by a +shameful attempt to pervert the fidelity +of our chief-slaves—I will not +insult these loyal servitors with this +disgusting new name, freedmen—so +that we might, +a second time, be tricked into +voting assent to our +own undoing. But in this, they have +failed. Our chief-slaves have warned +us of the trap concealed in this constitution +written by the Proconsul, +Count Erskyll. My faithful Tchall +Hozhet has shown me all the pitfalls +in this infamous document...."</p> + +<p>Obray, Count Erskyll, was staring +in dismay at the screen. Then he began +cursing blasphemously, the first +time he had ever been heard to do so, +and, as he was at least nominally a +Pantheist, this meant blaspheming +the entire infinite universe.</p> + +<p>"The rats! The dirty treacherous +rats! We came here to help them, +and look; they've betrayed us...!" +He lost his voice in a wheezing sob, +and then asked: "Why did they do +it? Do they want to go on being +slaves?"</p> + +<p>Perhaps they did. It wasn't for +love of their Lords-Master; he was +sure of that. Even from the beginning, +they had found it impossible to +disguise their contempt....</p> + +<p>Then he saw Olvir Nikkolon stop +short and thrust out his arm, pointing +directly below the pickup, and as +he watched, something green-gray, a +remote-control contragravity lorry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +came floating into +the field of the +screen. One of +the vehicles that had +been sent down from the <i>Empress +Eulalie</i> for use at the uranium mines. +As it lifted and advanced toward +the center of the room, the other +Lords-Master were springing to their +feet.</p> + +<div class="center"><div class="figcenter" style="width: 474px;"> +<img src="images/illus-044.png" width="474" height="700" alt="" title="" /> +</div></div> + +<p>Vann Shatrak also sprang to his +feet, reaching the controls of the +screen and cutting the sound. He +was just in time to save them from +being, at least temporarily, deafened, +for no sooner had he silenced the +speaker than the lorry vanished in a +flash that filled the entire room.</p> + +<p>When the dazzle left their eyes, +and the smoke and dust began to +clear, they saw the Convocation +Chamber in wreckage, showers of +plaster and bits of plastiboard still +falling from above. The gold and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +onyx bench was broken in a number +of places; the Chiefs of Management +in front of it, and the Presidium +above, had vanished. Among the +benches lay black-clad bodies, a few +still moving. Smoke rose from burning +clothing. Admiral Shatrak put on +the sound again; from the screen +came screams and cries of pain and +fright.</p> + +<p>Then the doors on the two long +sides opened, and red-brown uniforms +appeared. The soldiers advanced +into the Chamber, unslinging +rifles and submachine guns. Unheeding +the still falling plaster, they +moved forward, firing as they came. +A few of them slung their firearms +and picked up Masterly dress swords, +using them to finish the wounded +among the benches. The screams +grew fewer, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>Count Erskyll sat frozen, staring +white-faced and horror-sick into the +screen. Some of the others had begun +to recover and were babbling +excitedly. Vann Shatrak was at a +communication-screen, talking to +Commodore Patrique Morvill, aboard +the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>:</p> + +<p>"All the Landing-Troops, and all +the crewmen you can spare and arm. +And every vehicle you have. This is +only the start of it; there'll be a general +massacre of Masters next. I don't +doubt it's started already."</p> + +<p>At another screen, Pyairr Ravney +was saying, to the officer of the day +of the Palace Guard: "No, there's no +telling what they'll do next. Whatever +it is, be ready for it ten minutes +ago."</p> + +<p>He stubbed out his cigarette and +rose, and as he did, Erskyll came out +of his daze and onto his feet.</p> + +<p>"Commodore Shatrak! I mean, +Admiral," he corrected himself. "We +must re-impose martial rule. I wish +I'd never talked you into terminating +it. Look at that!" He pointed at the +screen; big dump-lorries were already +coming in the doors under the +pickup, with a mob of gowned civil-service +people crowding in under +them. They and the soldiers began +dragging bodies out from among the +seats to be loaded and hauled away. +"There's the planetary government, +murdered to the last man!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we can't do anything +like that," he said. "This seems to be +a simple transfer of power by <i>coup-d'etat</i>; +rather more extreme than +usual, but normal political practice +on this sort of planet. The Empire +has no right to interfere."</p> + +<p>Erskyll turned on him indignantly. +"But it's mass murder!"</p> + +<p>"It's an accomplished fact. Whoever +ordered this, Citizen Chmidd +and Citizen Hozhet and Citizen +Zhannar and the rest of your good +democratic citizens, are now the +planetary government of Aditya. As +long as they don't attack us, or repudiate +the sovereignty of the Emperor, +you'll have to recognize them +as such."</p> + +<p>"A bloody-handed gang of murderers; +recognize them?"</p> + +<p>"All governments have a little +blood here and there on their hands; +you've seen this by screen instead of +reading about it in a history book,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +but that shouldn't make any difference. +And you've said, yourself, that +the Masters would have to be eliminated. +You've told Chmidd and +Hozhet and the others that, repeatedly. +Of course, you meant legally, by +constitutional and democratic means, +but that seemed just a bit too tedious +to them. They had them all together +in one room, where they could be +eliminated easily, and ... Lanze; +see if you can get anything on the +Citadel telecast."</p> + +<p>Degbrend put on another communication-screen +and fiddled for a +moment. What came on was a view, +from another angle, of the Convocation +Chamber. A voice was saying:</p> + +<p>"... not one left alive. The People's +Labor Police, acting on orders +of People's Manager of Labor Zhorzh +Khouzhik and People's Provost-Marshal +Yakoop Zhannar, are now +eliminating the rest of the ci-devant +Masterly class, all of whom are here +in Zeggensburg. The people are directed +to cooperate; kill them all, +men, women and children. We must +allow none of these foul exploiters +of the people live to see today's sun +go down...."</p> + +<p>"You mean, we sit here while +those animals butcher women and +children?" Shatrak demanded, looking +from the Proconsul to the Ministerial +Secretary. "Well, by Ghu, I +won't! If I have to face a court for +it, all well and good, but...."</p> + +<p>"You won't, Admiral. I seem to +recall, some years ago, a Commodore +Hastings, who got a baronetcy for +stopping a pogrom on Anath...."</p> + +<p>"And broadcast an announcement +that any of the Masterly class may +find asylum here at the Proconsular +Palace. They're political fugitives; +scores of precedents for that," Erskyll +added.</p> + +<p>Shatrak was back at the screen to +the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>.</p> + +<p>"Patrique, get a jam-beam focussed +on that telecast station at the Citadel; +get it off the air. Then broadcast on +the same wavelength; announce that +anybody claiming sanctuary at the +Proconsular Palace will be taken in +and protected. And start getting +troops down, and all the spacemen +you can spare."</p> + +<p>At the same time, Ravney was +saying, into his own screen:</p> + +<p>"Plan Four. Variation H-3; this is +a rescue operation. This is not, repeat, +underscore, <i>not</i> an intervention +in planetary government. You are to +protect members of the Masterly +class in danger from mob violence. +That's anybody with hair on his head. +Stay away from the Citadel; the ones +there are all dead. Start with the four +buildings closest to us, and get them +cleared out. If the shaveheads give +you any trouble, don't argue with +them, just shoot them...."</p> + +<p>Erskyll, after his brief moment of +decisiveness, was staring at the screen +to the Convocation Chamber, where +bodies were still being heaved into +the lorries like black sacks of grain. +Lanze Degbrend summoned a robot, +had it pour a highball, and gave it to +the Proconsul.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, Count Erskyll; drink it +down. Medicinal," he was saying.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +"Believe me you certainly need it."</p> + +<p>Erskyll gulped it down. "I think I +could use another, if you please," he +said, handing the glass back to +Lanze. "And a cigarette." After he +had tasted his second drink and +puffed on the cigarette, he said: "I +was so proud. I thought they were +learning democracy."</p> + +<p>"We don't, any of us, have too +much to be proud about," Degbrend +told him. "They must have been +planning and preparing this for a +couple of months, and we never +caught a whisper of it."</p> + +<p>That was correct. They had deluded +Erskyll into thinking that they +were going to let the Masters vote +themselves out of power and set up +a representative government. They +had deluded the Masters into believing +that they were in favor of the +<i>status quo</i>, and opposed to Erkyll's +democratization and socialization. +There must be only a few of them +in the conspiracy. Chmidd and Hozhet +and Zhannar and Khouzhik and +Schferts and the rest of the Citadel +chief-slave clique. Among them, they +controlled all the armed force. The +bickering and rivalries must have +been part of the camouflage. He +supposed that a few of the upper +army commanders had been in on it, +too.</p> + +<p>A communication-screen began +making noises. Somebody flipped the +switch, and Khreggor Chmidd appeared +in it. Erskyll swore softly, and +went to face the screen-image of the +elephantine ex-slave of the ex-Lord +Master, the late Rovard Javasan.</p> + +<p>"Citizen Proconsul; why is our +telecast station, which is vitally needed +to give information to the people, +jammed off the air, and why are you +broadcasting, on our wavelength, advice +to the criminals of the ci-devant +Masterly class to take refuge in your +Proconsular Palace from the just +vengeance of the outraged victims of +their century-long exploitation?" he +began. "This is a flagrant violation of +the Imperial Constitution; our Emperor +will not be pleased at this unjustified +intervention in the affairs, +and this interference with the planetary +authority, of the People's Commonwealth +of Aditya!"</p> + +<p>Obray of Erskyll must have realized, +for the first time, that he was +still holding a highball glass in one +hand and a cigarette in the other. He +flung both of them away.</p> + +<p>"If the Imperial troops we are +sending into the city to rescue +women and children in danger from +your hoodlums meet with the least +resistance, you won't be in a position +to find out what his Majesty thinks +about it, because Admiral Shatrak +will have you and your accomplices +shot in the Convocation Chamber, +where you massacred the legitimate +government of this planet," he +barked.</p> + +<p>So the real Obray, Count Erskyll, +had at last emerged. All the liberalism +and socialism and egalitarianism, +all the Helping-Hand, Torch-of-Democracy, +idealism, was merely +a surface stucco applied at the university +during the last six years. For +twenty-four years before that, from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +the day of his birth, he had been +taught, by his parents, his nurse, his +governess, his tutors, what it meant +to be an Erskyll of Aton and a grandson +of Errol, Duke of Yorvoy. As he +watched Khreggor Chmidd in the +screen, he grew angrier, if possible.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what you blood-thirsty +imbeciles have done?" he demanded. +"You have just murdered, +along with two thousand men, some +five billion crowns, the money needed +to finance all these fine modernization +and industrialization plans. Or +are you crazy enough to think that +the Empire is going to indemnify +you for being emancipated and pay +that money over to you?"</p> + +<p>"But, Citizen Proconsul...."</p> + +<p>"And don't call me Citizen Proconsul! +I am a noble of the Galactic +Empire, and on this pigpen of a +planet I represent his Imperial Majesty. +You will respect, and address, +me accordingly."</p> + +<p>Khreggor Chmidd no longer wore +the gorget of servility, but, as Lanze +Degbrend had once remarked, it was +still tattooed on his soul. He gulped.</p> + +<p>"Y-yes, Lord-Master Proconsul!"</p> + +<p>They were together again in the +big conference-room, which Vann +Shatrak had been using, through the +day, as an extemporised Battle-Control. +They slumped wearily in chairs; +they smoked and drank coffee; they +anxiously looked from viewscreen to +viewscreen, wondering when, and +how soon, the trouble would break +out again. It was dark, outside, now. +Floodlights threw a white dazzle +from the top of the Proconsular Palace +and from the tops of the four +buildings around it that Imperial +troops had cleared and occupied, and +from contragravity vehicles above. +There was light and activity at the +Citadel, and in the Servile City to the +south-east; the rest of Zeggensburg +was dark and quiet.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll have any more +trouble," Admiral Shatrak was saying. +"They won't be fools enough to +attack us here, and all the Masters +are dead, except for the ones we're +sheltering."</p> + +<p>"How many did we save?" Count +Erskyll asked.</p> + +<p>Eight hundred odd, Shatrak told +him. Erskyll caught his breath.</p> + +<p>"So few! Why, there were almost +twelve thousand of them in the city +this morning."</p> + +<p>"I'm surprised we saved so many," +Lanze Degbrend said. He still wore +combat coveralls, and a pistol-belt +lay beside his chair. "Most of them +were killed in the first hour."</p> + +<p>And that had been before the +landing-craft from the ships had gotten +down, and there had only been +seven hundred men and forty vehicles +available. He had gone out with +them, himself; it had been the first +time he had worn battle-dress and +helmet or carried a weapon except +for sport in almost thirty years. It +had been an ugly, bloody, business; +one he wanted to forget as speedily +as possible. There had been times, +after seeing the mutilated bodies of +Masterly women and children, when +he had been forced to remind himself +that he had come out to prevent, not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +to participate in, a massacre. Some of +Ravney's men hadn't even tried. +Atrocity has a horrible facility for +begetting atrocity.</p> + +<p>"What'll we do with them?" Erskyll +asked. "We can't turn them +loose; they'd all be murdered in a +matter of hours, and in any case, +they'd have nowhere to go. The +Commonwealth,"—he pronounced +the name he had himself selected as +though it were an obscenity—"has +nationalized all the Masterly property."</p> + +<p>That had been announced almost +as soon as the Citadel telecast-station +had been unjammed, and shortly +thereafter they had begun encountering +bodies of Yakoop Zhannar's +soldiers and Zhorzh Khouzhik's police +who had been sent out to stop +looting and vandalism and occupy +the Masterly palaces. There had been +considerable shooting in the Servile +City; evidently the ex-slaves had to +be convinced that they must not +pillage or destroy their places of employment.</p> + +<p>"Evacuate them off-planet," Shatrak +said. "As soon as <i>Algol</i> gets here, +we'll load the lot of them onto <i>Mizar</i> +or <i>Canopus</i> and haul them somewhere. +Ghu only knows how they'll +live, but...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, they won't be paupers, or +public charges, Admiral," he said. +"You know, there's an estimated five +billion crowns in slave-compensation, +and when I return to Odin I +shall represent most strongly that +these survivors be paid the whole +sum. But I shall emphatically not +recommend that they be resettled on +Odin. They won't be at all grateful +to us for today's business, and on +Odin they could easily stir up some +very adverse public sentiment."</p> + +<p>"My resignation will answer any +criticism of the Establishment the +public may make," Erskyll began.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rubbish; don't talk about resigning, +Obray. You made a few +mistakes here, though I can't think of +a better planet in the Galaxy on +which you could have made them. +But no matter what you did or did +not do, this would have happened +eventually."</p> + +<p>"You really think so?" Obray, +Count Erskyll, was desperately anxious +to be assured of that. "Perhaps if +I hadn't been so insistent on this +constitution...."</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't have made a particle +of difference. We all made this +inevitable simply by coming here. +Before we came, it would have been +impossible. No slave would have +been able even to imagine a society +without Lords-Master; you heard +Chmidd and Hozhet, the first day, +aboard the <i>Empress Eulalie</i>. A slave +had to have a Master; he simply +couldn't belong to nobody at all. +And until you started talking socialization, +nobody could have imagined +property without a Masterly property-owning +class. And a massacre +like this would have been impossible +to organize or execute. For one +thing, it required an elaborate conspiratorial +organization, and until we +emancipated them, no slave would +have dared trust any other slave;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +every one would have betrayed any +other to curry favor with his Lord-Master. +We taught them that they +didn't need Lords-Master, or Masterly +favor, any more. And we presented +them with a situation their established +routines didn't cover, and +forced them into doing some original +thinking, which must have hurt like +Nifflheim at first. And we retrained +the army and handed it over to Yakoop +Zhannar, and inspired Zhorzh +Khouzhik to organize the Labor Police, +and fundamentally, no government +is anything but armed force. +Really, Obray, I can't see that you +can be blamed for anything but +speeding up an inevitable process +slightly."</p> + +<p>"You think they'll see it that way +at Asgard?"</p> + +<p>"You mean the Prime Minister +and His Majesty? That will be the +way I shall present it to them. That +was another reason I wanted to stay +on here. I anticipated that you might +want a credible witness to what was +going to happen," he said. "Now, +you'll be here for not more than five +years before you're promoted elsewhere. +Nobody remains longer than +that on a first Proconsular appointment. +Just keep your eyes and ears +and, especially, your mind, open +while you are here. You will learn +many things undreamed-of by the +political-science faculty at the University +of Nefertiti."</p> + +<p>"You said I made mistakes," Erskyll +mentioned, ready to start learning +immediately.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I pointed one of them out to +you some time ago: emotional involvement +with local groups. You +began sympathizing with the servile +class here almost immediately. I +don't think either of us learned anything +about them that the other didn't, +yet I found them despicable, one +and all. Why did you think them +worthy of your sympathy?"</p> + +<p>"Why, because...." For a moment, +that was as far as he could get. +His motivation had been thalamic +rather than cortical and he was having +trouble externalizing it verbally. +"They were <i>slaves</i>. They were being +exploited and oppressed...."</p> + +<p>"And, of course, their exploiters +were a lot of heartless villains, so +that made the slaves good and virtuous +innocents. That was your real, +fundamental, mistake. You know, +Obray, the downtrodden and long-suffering +proletariat aren't at all good +or innocent or virtuous. They are +just incompetent; they lack the abilities +necessary for overt villainy. You +saw, this afternoon, what they were +capable of doing when they were +given an opportunity. You know, +it's quite all right to give the underdog +a hand, but only one hand. Keep +the other hand on your pistol—or +he'll try to eat the one you gave him! +As you may have noticed, today, +when underdogs get up, they tend to +turn out to be wolves."</p> + +<p>"What do you think this Commonwealth +will develop into, under +Chmidd and Hozhet and Khouzhik +and the rest?" Lanze Degbrend asked, +to keep the lecture going.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a slave-state, of course; look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +who's running it, and whom it will +govern. Not the kind of a slave-state +we can do anything about," he hastened +to add. "The Commonwealth +will be very definite about recognizing +that sapient beings cannot be +property. But all the rest of the +property will belong to the Commonwealth. +Remember that remark +of Chmidd's: 'It will belong to everybody, +but somebody will have to take +care of it for everybody. That will be +you and me.'"</p> + +<p>Erskyll frowned. "I remember that. +I didn't like it, at the time. It sounded...."</p> + +<p>Out of character, for a good and +virtuous proletarian; almost Masterly, +in fact. He continued:</p> + +<p>"The Commonwealth will be sole +employer as well as sole property-owner, +and anybody who wants to eat +will have to work for the Commonwealth +on the Commonwealth's +terms. Chmidd's and Hozhet's and +Khouzhik's, that is. If that isn't substitution +of peonage for chattel slavery, +I don't know what the word +peonage means. But you'll do nothing +to interfere. You will see to it +that Aditya stays in the empire and +adheres to the Constitution and +makes no trouble for anybody off-planet. +I fancy you won't find that +too difficult. They'll be good, as long +as you deny them the means to be +anything else. And make sure that +they continue to call you Lord-Master +Proconsul."</p> + +<p>Lecturing, he found, was dry work. +He summoned a bartending robot:</p> + +<p>"Ho, slave! Attend your Lord-Master!"</p> + +<p>Then he had to use his ultraviolet +pencil-light to bring it to him, and +dial for the brandy-and-soda he +wanted. As long as that was necessary, +there really wasn't anything to +worry about. But some of these days, +they'd build robots that would anticipate +orders, and robots to operate +robots, and robots to supervise them, +and....</p> + +<p>No. It wouldn't quite come to +that. A slave is a slave, but a robot +is only a robot. As long as they stuck +to robots, they were reasonably +safe.</p> + +<hr /> + +<div class="bbox"> +<h4>Transcriber's Notes & Errata</h4> +<p>The original page numbers from the magazine have been +retained.</p> +<p>The following typographical errors have been +corrected.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr style="font-weight: bold"><td align='left'>Page</td><td align='left'>Error</td><td align='left'>Correction</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>65</td><td align='left'>Terrohuman</td><td align='left'>Terro-human</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>71</td><td align='left'>present;</td><td align='left'>present,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>80</td><td align='left'>tessallated</td><td align='left'>tessellated</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>119</td><td align='left'>announcemnet</td><td align='left'>announcement</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>119</td><td align='left'>intransigeant</td><td align='left'>intransigent</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>127</td><td align='left'>tattoed</td><td align='left'>tattooed</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>128</td><td align='left'>salutory</td><td align='left'>salutary</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>132</td><td align='left'>constituion</td><td align='left'>constitution</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>134</td><td align='left'>belligerant</td><td align='left'>belligerent</td></tr> +</table></div> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Slave is a Slave, by Henry Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SLAVE IS A SLAVE *** + +***** This file should be named 20726-h.htm or 20726-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/2/20726/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Slave is a Slave + +Author: Henry Beam Piper + +Release Date: March 3, 2007 [EBook #20726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SLAVE IS A SLAVE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + +A SLAVE IS A SLAVE + +BY H. BEAM PIPER + ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ +| Transcriber's Note | +| | +| This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact--Science | +| Fiction April 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any | +| evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was | +| renewed. | ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + There has always been strong sympathy for the poor, meek, + downtrodden slave--the kindly little man, oppressed by cruel and + overbearing masters. Could it possibly have been misplaced...? + + +Jurgen, Prince Trevannion, accepted the coffee cup and lifted it to his +lips, then lowered it. These Navy robots always poured coffee too hot; +spacemen must have collapsium-lined throats. With the other hand, he +punched a button on the robot's keyboard and received a lighted +cigarette; turning, he placed the cup on the command-desk in front of +him and looked about. The tension was relaxing in Battle-Control, the +purposeful pandemonium of the last three hours dying rapidly. Officers +of both sexes, in red and blue and yellow and green coveralls, were +rising from seats, leaving their stations, gathering in groups. +Laughter, a trifle loud; he realized, suddenly, that they had been +worried, and wondered if he should not have been a little so himself. +No. There would have been nothing he could have done about anything, so +worry would not have been useful. He lifted the cup again and sipped +cautiously. + +"That's everything we can do now," the man beside him said. "Now we just +sit and wait for the next move." + +Like all the others, Line-Commodore Vann Shatrak wore shipboard +battle-dress; his coveralls were black, splashed on breast and between +shoulders with the gold insignia of his rank. His head was completely +bald, and almost spherical; a beaklike nose carried down the curve of +his brow, and the straight lines of mouth and chin chopped under it +enhanced rather than spoiled the effect. He was getting coffee; he +gulped it at once. + +"It was very smart work, Commodore. I never saw a landing operation go +so smoothly." + +"Too smooth," Shatrak said. "I don't trust it." He looked suspiciously +up at the row of viewscreens. + +"It was absolutely unnecessary!" + +That was young Obray, Count Erskyll, seated on the commodore's left. He +was a generation younger than Prince Trevannion, as Shatrak was a +generation older; they were both smooth-faced. It was odd, how beards +went in and out of fashion with alternate generations. He had been +worried, too, during the landing, but for a different reason from the +others. Now he was reacting with anger. + +"I told you, from the first, that it was unnecessary. You see? They +weren't even able to defend themselves, let alone...." + +His personal communication-screen buzzed; he set down the coffee and +flicked the switch. It was Lanze Degbrend. On the books, Lanze was +carried as Assistant to the Ministerial Secretary. In practice, Lanze +was his chess-opponent, conversational foil, right hand, third eye and +ear, and, sometimes, trigger-finger. Lanze was now wearing the combat +coveralls of an officer of Navy Landing-Troops; he had a steel helmet +with a transpex visor shoved up, and there was a carbine slung over his +shoulder. He grinned and executed an exaggeratedly military salute. He +chuckled. + +"Well, look at you; aren't you the perfect picture of correct diplomatic +dress?" + +"You know, sir, I'm afraid I am, for this planet," Degbrend said. +"Colonel Ravney insisted on it. He says the situation downstairs is +still fluid, which I take to mean that everybody is shooting at +everybody. He says he has the main telecast station, in the big building +the locals call the Citadel." + +"Oh, good. Get our announcement out as quickly as you can. Number Five. +You and Colonel Ravney can decide what interpolations are needed to fit +the situation." + +"Number Five; the really tough one," Degbrend considered. "I take it +that by interpolations you do not mean dilutions?" + +"Oh, no; don't water the drink. Spike it." + +Lanze Degbrend grinned at him. Then he snapped down the visor of his +helmet, unslung his carbine, and presented it. He was still standing at +present arms when Trevannion blanked the screen. + + * * * * * + +"That still doesn't excuse a wanton and unprovoked aggression!" Erskyll +was telling Shatrak, his thin face flushed and his voice quivering with +indignation. "We came here to help these people, not to murder them." + +"We didn't come here to do either, Obray," he said, turning to face the +younger man. "We came here to annex their planet to the Galactic Empire, +whether they wish it annexed or not. Commodore Shatrak used the quickest +and most effective method of doing that. It would have done no good to +attempt to parley with them from off-planet. You heard those telecasts +of theirs." + +"Authoritarian," Shatrak said, then mimicked pompously: "'Everybody is +commanded to remain calm; the Mastership is taking action. The +Convocation of the Lords-Master is in special session; they will decide +how to deal with the invaders. The administrators are directed to +reassure the supervisors; the overseers will keep the workers at their +tasks. Any person disobeying the orders of the Mastership will be dealt +with most severely.'" + +"Static, too. No spaceships into this system for the last five hundred +years; the Convocation--equals Parliament, I assume--hasn't been in +special session for two hundred and fifty." + +"Yes. I've taken over planets with that kind of government before," +Shatrak said. "You can't argue with them. You just grab them by the +center of authority, quick and hard." + +Count Erskyll said nothing for a moment. He was opposed to the use of +force. Force, he believed, was the last resort of incompetence; he had +said so frequently enough since this operation had begun. Of course, he +was absolutely right, though not in the way he meant. Only the +incompetent wait until the last extremity to use force, and by then, it +is usually too late to use anything, even prayer. + +But, at the same time, he was opposed to authoritarianism, except, of +course, when necessary for the real good of the people. And he did not +like rulers who called themselves Lords-Master. Good democratic rulers +called themselves Servants of the People. So he relapsed into silence +and stared at the viewscreens. + +One, from an outside pickup on the _Empress Eulalie_ herself, showed the +surface of the planet, a hundred miles down, the continent under them +curving away to a distant sun-reflecting sea; beyond the curved horizon, +the black sky was spangled with unwinking stars. Fifty miles down, the +sun glinted from the three thousand foot globes of the two +transport-cruisers, _Canopus_ and _Mizar_. + +Another screen, from _Mizar_, gave a clearer if more circumscribed view +of the surface--green countryside, veined by rivers and wrinkled with +mountains; little towns that were mere dots; a scatter of white clouds. +Nothing that looked like roads. There had been no native sapient race on +this planet, and in the thirteen centuries since it had been colonized +the Terro-human population had never completely lost the use of +contragravity vehicles. In that screen, farther down, the four +destroyers, _Irma_, _Irene_, _Isobel_ and _Iris_, were tiny twinkles. + + * * * * * + +From _Irene_, they had a magnified view of the city. On the maps, none +later than eight hundred years old, it was called Zeggensburg; it had +been built at the time of the first colonization under the old Terran +Federation. Tall buildings, rising from wide interspaces of lawns and +parks and gardens, and, at the very center, widely separated from +anything else, the mass of the Citadel, a huge cylindrical tower rising +from a cluster of smaller cylinders, with a broad circular landing stage +above, topped by the newly raised flag of the Galactic Empire. + +There was a second city, a thick crescent, to the south and east. The +old maps placed the Zeggensburg spaceport there, but not a trace of that +remained. In its place was what was evidently an industrial district, +located where the prevailing winds would carry away the dust and smoke. +There was quite a bit of both, but the surprising thing was the streets, +long curved ones, and shorter ones crossing at regular intervals to form +blocks. He had never seen a city with streets before, and he doubted if +anybody else on the Empire ships had. Long boulevards to give +unobstructed passage to low-level air-traffic, of course, and short +winding walkways, but not things like these. Pictures, of course, of +native cities on planets colonized at the time of the Federation, and +even very ancient ones of cities on pre-Atomic Terra. But these people +had contragravity; the towering, wide-spaced city beside this +cross-gridded anachronism proved that. + +They knew so little about this planet which they had come to bring under +Imperial rule. It had been colonized thirteen centuries ago, during the +last burst of expansion before the System States War and the +disintegration of the Terran Federation, and it had been named Aditya, +in the fashion of the times, for some forgotten deity of some obscure +and ancient polytheism. A century or so later, it had seceded from or +been abandoned by the Federation, then breaking up. That much they had +gleaned from old Federation records still existing on Baldur. After +that, darkness, lighted only by a brief flicker when more records had +turned up on Morglay. + +Morglay was one of the Sword-Worlds, settled by refugee rebels from the +System States planets. Mostly they had been soldiers and spacemen; there +had been many women with them, and many were skilled technicians, +engineers, scientists. They had managed to carry off considerable +equipment with them, and for three centuries they had lived in +isolation, spreading over a dozen hitherto undiscovered planets. +Excalibur, Tizona, Gram, Morglay, Durendal, Flamberge, Curtana, +Quernbiter; the names were a roll-call of fabulous blades of Old Terran +legend. + +Then they had erupted, suddenly and calamitously, into what was left of +the Terran Federation as the Space Vikings, carrying pillage and +destruction, until the newborn Empire rose to vanquish them. In the +sixth Century Pre-Empire, one of their fleets had come from Morglay to +Aditya. + +The Adityans of that time had been near-barbarians; the descendants of +the original settlers had been serfs of other barbarians who had come as +mercenaries in the service of one or another of the local chieftains and +had remained to loot and rule. Subjugating them had been easy; the Space +Vikings had taken Aditya and made it their home. For several centuries, +there had been communication between them and their home planet. Then +Morglay had become involved in one of the interplanetary dynastic wars +that had begun the decadence of the Space Vikings, and again Aditya +dropped out of history. + +Until this morning, when history returned in the black ships of the +Galactic Empire. + + * * * * * + +He stubbed out the cigarette and summoned the robot to give him another. +Shatrak was speaking: + +"You see, Count Erskyll, we really had to do it this way, for their own +good." He wouldn't have credited the commodore with such guile; anything +was justified, according to Obray of Erskyll, if done for somebody +else's good. "What we did, we just landed suddenly, knocked out their +army, seized the center of government, before anybody could do anything. +If we'd landed the way you'd wanted us to, somebody would have resisted, +and the next thing, we'd have had to kill about five or six thousand of +them and blow down a couple of towns, and we'd have lost a lot of our +own people doing it. You might say, we had to do it to save them from +themselves." + +Obray of Erskyll seemed to have doubts, but before he could articulate +them, Shatrak's communication-screen was calling attention to itself. +The commodore flicked the switch, and his executive officer, Captain +Patrique Morvill, appeared in it. + +"We've just gotten reports, sir, that some of Ravney's people have +captured a half-dozen missile-launching sites around the city. His +air-reconn tells him that that's the lot of them. I have an officer of +one of the parties that participated. You ought to hear what he has to +say, sir." + +"Well, good!" Vann Shatrak whooshed out his breath. "I don't mind +admitting, I was a little on edge about that." + +"Wait till you hear what Lieutenant Carmath has to say." Morvill seemed +to be strangling a laugh. "Ready for him, Commodore?" + +Shatrak nodded; Morvill made a hand-signal and vanished in a flicker of +rainbow colors; when the screen cleared, a young Landing-Troop +lieutenant in battle-dress was looking out of it. He saluted and gave +his name, rank and unit. + +"This missile-launching site I'm occupying, sir; it's twenty miles +north-west of the city. We took it thirty minutes ago; no resistance +whatever. There are four hundred or so people here. Of them, twelve, one +dozen, are soldiers. The rest are civilians. Ten enlisted men, a non-com +of some sort, and something that appears to be an officer. The officer +had a pistol, fully loaded. The non-com had a submachine gun, empty, +with two loaded clips on his belt. The privates had rifles, empty, and +no ammunition. The officer did not know where the rifle ammunition was +stored." + +Shatrak swore. The second lieutenant nodded. "Exactly my comment when he +told me, sir. But this place is beautifully kept up. Lawns all mowed, +trees neatly pruned, everything policed up like inspection morning. And +there is a headquarters office building here adequate for an army +division...." + +"How about the armament, Lieutenant?" Shatrak asked with forced +patience. + +"Ah, yes; the armament, sir. There are eight big launching cradles for +panplanetary or off-planet missiles. They are all polished up like the +Crown Jewels. But none, repeat none, of them is operative. And there is +not a single missile on the installation." + +Shatrak's facial control didn't slip. It merely intensified, which +amounted to the same thing. + +"Lieutenant Carmath, I am morally certain I heard you correctly, but +let's just check. You said...." + +He repeated the lieutenant back, almost word for word. Carmath nodded. + +"That was it, sir. The missile-crypts are stacked full of +old photoprints and recording and microfilm spools. The +sighting-and-guidance systems for all the launchers are completely +missing. The letoff mechanisms all lack major parts. There is an +elaborate set of detection equipment, which will detect absolutely +nothing. I saw a few pairs of binoculars about; I suspect that that is +what we were first observed with." + +"This office, now; I suppose all the paperwork is up to the minute in +quintulplicate, and initialed by everybody within sight or hearing?" + +"I haven't checked on that yet, sir. If you're thinking of betting on +it, please don't expect me to cover you, though." + +"Well, thank you, Lieutenant Carmath. Stick around; I'm sending down a +tech-intelligence crew to look at what's left of the place. While +you're waiting, you might sort out whoever seems to be in charge and +find out just what in Nifflheim he thinks that launching-station was +maintained for." + +[Illustration] + +"I think I can tell you that, now, Commodore," Prince Trevannion said as +Shatrak blanked the screen. "We have a petrified authoritarianism. Quite +likely some sort of an oligarchy; I'd guess that this Convocation thing +they talk about consists of all the ruling class, everybody has equal +voice, and nobody will take the responsibility for doing anything. And +the actual work of government is probably handled by a corps of +bureaucrats entrenched in their jobs, unwilling to exert any effort and +afraid to invite any criticism, and living only to retire on their +pensions. I've seen governments like that before." He named a few. "One +thing; once a government like that has been bludgeoned into the Empire, +it rarely makes any trouble later." + +"Just to judge by this missileless non-launching station," Shatrak said, +"they couldn't even decide on what kind of trouble to make, or how to +start it. I think you're going to have a nice easy Proconsulate here, +Count Erskyll." + +Count Erskyll started to say something. No doubt he was about to tell +Shatrak, cuttingly, that he didn't want an easy Proconsulate, but an +opportunity to help these people. He was saved from this by the buzzing +of Shatrak's communication-screen. + +It was Colonel Pyairr Ravney, the Navy Landing-Troop commander. Like +everybody else who had gone down to Zeggensburg, he was in battle-dress +and armed; the transpex visor of his helmet was pushed up. Between +Shatrak's generation and Count Erskyll's, he sported a pointed mustache +and a spiky chin-beard, which, on his thin and dark-eyed face, looked +distinctly Mephistophelean. He was grinning. + +"Well, sir, I think we can call it a done job," he said. "There's a +delegation here who want to talk to the Lords-Master of the ships on +behalf of the Lords-Master of the Convocation. Two of them, with about a +dozen portfolio-bearers and note-takers. I'm not too good in Lingua +Terra, outside Basic, at best, and their brand is far from that. I +gather that they're some kind of civil-servants, personal +representatives of the top Lords-Master." + +"Do we want to talk to them?" Shatrak asked. + +"Well, we should only talk to the actual, titular, heads of the +government--Mastership," Erskyll, suddenly protocol-conscious, objected. +"We can't negotiate with subordinates." + +"Oh, who's talking about negotiating; there isn't anything to negotiate. +Aditya is now a part of the Galactic Empire. If this present regime +assents to that, they can stay in power. If not, we will toss them out +and install a new government. We will receive this delegation, inform +them to that effect, and send them back to relay the information to +their Lords-Master." He turned to the Commodore. "May I speak to Colonel +Ravney?" + +Shatrak assented. He asked Ravney where these Lords-Master were. + +"Here in the Citadel, in what they call the Convocation Chamber. Close +to a thousand of them, screaming recriminations at one another. Sounds +like feeding time at the Imperial Zoo. I think they all want to +surrender, but nobody dares propose it first. I've just put a cordon +around it and placed it off limits to everybody. And everything outside +off limits to the Convocation." + +"Well thought of, Colonel. I suppose the Citadel teems with bureaucrats +and such low life-forms?" + +"Bulging with them. Literally thousands. Lanze Degbrend and Commander +Douvrin and a few others are trying to get some sensible answers out of +some of them." + +"This delegation; how had you thought of sending them up?" + +"Landing-craft to _Isobel_; _Isobel_ will bring them the rest of the +way." + +He looked at his watch. "Well, don't be in too much of a rush to get +them here, Colonel. We don't want them till after lunch. Delay them on +_Isobel_; the skipper can see that they have their own lunch aboard. And +entertain them with some educational films. Something to convince them +that there is slightly more to the Empire than one ship-of-the-line, two +cruisers and four destroyers." + +Count Erskyll was dissatisfied about that, too. He wanted to see the +delegation at once and make arrangements to talk to their superiors. +Count Erskyll, among other things, was zealous, and of this he +disapproved. Zealous statesmen perhaps did more mischief than anything +in the Galaxy--with the possible exception of procrastinating soldiers. +That could indicate the fundamental difference between statecraft and +war. He'd have to play with that idea a little. + + * * * * * + +An Empire ship-of-the-line was almost a mile in diameter. It was more +than a battle-craft; it also had political functions. The grand salon, +on the outer zone where the curvature of the floors was less +disconcerting, was as magnificent as any but a few of the rooms of the +Imperial Palace at Asgard on Odin, the floor richly carpeted and the +walls alternating mirrors and paintings. The movable furniture varied +according to occasion; at present, it consisted of the bare desk at +which they sat, the three chairs they occupied, and the three +secretary-robots, their rectangular black casts blazened with the Sun +and Cogwheel of the Empire. It faced the door, at the far end of the +room; on either side, a rank of spacemen, in dress uniform and under +arms, stood. + +In principle, annexing a planet to the Empire was simplicity itself, but +like so many things simple in principle, it was apt to be complicated in +practice, and to this, he suspected, the present instance would be no +exception. + +In principle, one simply informed the planetary government that it was +now subject to the sovereignty of his Imperial Majesty, the Galactic +Emperor. This information was always conveyed by a Ministerial +Secretary, directly under the Prime Minister and only one more step down +from the Emperor, in the present instance Jurgen, Prince Trevannion. To +make sure that the announcement carried conviction, the presumedly glad +tidings were accompanied by the Imperial Space Navy, at present +represented by Commodore Vann Shatrak and a seven ship battle-line unit, +and two thousand Imperial Landing-Troops. + +When the locals had been properly convinced--with as little bloodshed as +necessary, but always beyond any dispute--an Imperial Proconsul, in this +case Obray, Count Erskyll, would be installed. He would by no means +govern the planet. The Imperial Constitution was definite on that point; +every planetary government should be sovereign as to intraplanetary +affairs. The Proconsul, within certain narrow and entirely inelastic +limits, would merely govern the government. + +Unfortunately, Obray, Count Erskyll, appeared not to understand this +completely. It was his impression that he was a torch-bearer of Imperial +civilization, or something equally picturesque and metaphorical. As he +conceived it, it was the duty of the Empire, as represented by himself, +to make over backward planets like Aditya in the image of Odin or Marduk +or Osiris or Baldur or, preferably, his own home world of Aton. + +This was Obray of Erskyll's first proconsular appointment, it was due to +family influence, and it was a mistake. Mistakes, of course, were +inevitable in anything as large and complex as the Galactic Empire, and +any institution guided by men was subject to one kind of influence or +another, family influence being no worse than any other kind. In this +case, the ultra-conservative Erskylls of Aton, from old Errol, Duke of +Yorvoy, down, had become alarmed at the political radicalism of young +Obray, and had, on his graduation from the University of Nefertiti, +persuaded the Prime Minister to appoint him to a Proconsulate as far +from Aton as possible, where he would not embarrass them. Just at that +time, more important matters having been gotten out of the way, Aditya +had come up for annexation, and Obray of Erskyll had been named +Proconsul. + +That had been the mistake. He should have been sent to some planet which +had been under Imperial rule for some time, where the Proconsulate ran +itself in a well-worn groove, and where he could at leisure learn the +procedures and unlearn some of the unrealisms absorbed at the University +from professors too well insulated from the realities of politics. + + * * * * * + +There was a stir among the guards; helmet-visors were being snapped +down; feet scuffed. They stiffened to attention, the great doors at the +other end of the grand salon slid open, and the guards presented arms as +the Adityan delegation was ushered in. + +There were fourteen of them. They all wore ankle-length gowns, and they +all had shaven heads. The one in the lead carried a staff and wore a +pale green gown; he was apparently a herald. Behind him came two in +white gowns, their empty hands folded on their breasts; one was a huge +bulk of obesity with a bulging brow, protuberant eyes and a pursey +little mouth, and the other was thin and cadaverous, with a skull-like, +almost fleshless face. The ones behind, in dark green and pale blue, +carried portfolios and slung sound-recorder cases. There was a metallic +twinkle at each throat; as they approached, he could see that they all +wore large silver gorgets. They came to a halt twenty feet from the +desk. The herald raised his staff. + +"I present the Admirable and Trusty Tchall Hozhet, personal chief-slave +of the Lord-Master Olvir Nikkolon, Chairman of the Presidium of the +Lords-Master's Convocation, and Khreggor Chmidd, chief-slave in office +to the Lord-Master Rovard Javasan, Chief of Administration of +Management of the Mastership," he said. Then he stopped, puzzled, +looking from one to another of them. When his eyes fell on Vann Shatrak, +he brightened. + +"Are you," he asked, "the chief-slave of the chief Lord-Master of this +ship?" + +Shatrak's face turned pink; the pink darkened to red. He used a word; it +was a completely unprintable word. So, except for a few scattered +pronouns, conjunctions and prepositions, were the next fifty words he +used. The herald stiffened. The two delegates behind him were aghast. +The subordinate burden-bearers in the rear began looking around +apprehensively. + +"I," Shatrak finally managed, "am an officer of his Imperial Majesty's +Space Navy. I am in command of this battle-line unit. I am _not_"--he +reverted briefly to obscenity--"a slave." + +"You mean, you are a Lord-Master, too?" That seemed to horrify the +herald even more that the things Shatrak had been calling him. "Forgive +me, Lord-Master. I did not think...." + +"That's right; you didn't," Shatrak agreed. "And don't call me +Lord-Master again, or I'll...." + +"Just a moment, Commodore." He waved the herald aside and addressed the +two in white gowns, shifting to Lingua Terra. "This is a ship of the +Galactic Empire," he told them. "In the Empire, there are no slaves. Can +you understand that?" + +Evidently not. The huge one, Khreggor Chmidd, turned to the skull-faced +Tchall Hozhet, saying: "Then they must all be Lords-Master." He saw the +objection to that at once. "But how can one be a Lord-Master if there +are no slaves?" + +The horror was not all on the visitors' side of the desk, either. Obray +of Erskyll was staring at the delegation and saying, "Slaves!" under his +breath. Obray of Erskyll had never, in his not-too-long life, seen a +slave before. + +"They can't be," Tchall Hozhet replied. "A Lord-Master is one who owns +slaves." He gave that a moment's consideration. "But if they aren't +Lords-Master, they must be slaves, and...." No. That wouldn't do, +either. "But a slave is one who belongs to a Lord-Master." + +Rule of the Excluded Third; evidently Pre-Atomic formal logic had crept +back to Aditya. Chmidd, looking around, saw the ranks of spacemen on +either side, now at parade-rest. + +"But aren't they slaves?" he asked. + +"They are spacemen of the Imperial Navy," Shatrak roared. "Call one a +slave to his face and you'll get a rifle-butt in yours. And I shan't +lift a finger to stop it." He glared at Chmidd and Hozhet. "Who had the +infernal impudence to send slaves to deal with the Empire? He needs to +be taught a lesson." + +"Why, I was sent by the Lord-Master Olvir Nikkolon, and...." + +"Tchall!" Chmidd hissed at him. "We cannot speak to Lords-Master. We +must speak to their chief-slaves." + +"But they have no slaves," Hozhet objected. "Didn't you hear the ... the +one with the small beard ... say so?" + +"But that's ridiculous, Khreggor. Who does the work, and who tells them +what to do? Who told these people to come here?" + + * * * * * + +"Our Emperor sent us. That is his picture, behind me. But we are not his +slaves. He is merely the chief man among us. Do your Masters not have +one among them who is chief?" + +"That's right," Chmidd said to Hozhet. "In the Convocation, your +Lord-Master is chief, and in the Mastership, my Lord-Master, Rovard +Javasan, is chief." + +"But they don't tell the other Lords-Master what to do. In Convocation, +the other Lords-Master tell them...." + +"That's what I meant about an oligarchy," he whispered, in Imperial, to +Erskyll. + +"Suppose we tell Ravney to herd these Lords-Master onto a couple of +landing-craft and bring them up here?" Shatrak suggested. He made the +suggestion in Lingua Terra Basic, and loudly. + +"I think we can manage without that." He raised his voice, speaking in +Lingua Terra Basic: + +"It does not matter whether these slaves talk to us or not. This planet +is now under the rule of his Imperial Majesty, Rodrik III. If this +Mastership wants to govern the planet under the Emperor, they may do so. +If not, we will make an end of them and set up a new government here." + +He paused. Chmidd and Hozhet were looking at one another in shocked +incredulity. + +"Tchall, they mean it," Chmidd said. "They can do it, too." + +"We have nothing more to say to you slaves," he continued. "Hereafter, +we will speak directly to the Lords-Master." + +"But.... The Lords-Master never do business directly," Hozhet said. "It +is un-Masterly. Such discussions are between chief-slaves." + +"This thing they call the Convocation," Shatrak mentioned. "I wonder if +the members have the business done entirely through their slaves." + +"Oh, no!" That shocked Chmidd into direct address. "No slave is allowed +in the Convocation Chamber." + +He wondered how they kept the place swept out. Robots, no doubt. Or +else, what happened when the Masters weren't there didn't count. + +"Very well. Your people have recorders; are they on?" + +Hozhet asked Chmidd; Chmidd asked the herald, who asked one of the +menials in the rear, who asked somebody else. The reply came back +through the same channels; they were. + +"Very well. At this time tomorrow, we will speak to the Convocation of +Lords-Master. Commodore Shatrak, see to it that Colonel Ravney has them +in the Convocation Chamber, and that preparations in the room are made, +so that we may address them in the dignity befitting representatives of +his Imperial Majesty." He turned to the Adityan slaves. "That is all. +You have permission to go." + +They watched the delegation back out, with the honor-guard following. +When the doors had closed behind them, Shatrak ran his hand over his +bald head and laughed. + +"Shaved heads, every one of them. That's probably why they thought I was +your slave. Bet those gorgets are servile badges, too." He touched the +Knight's Star of the Order of the Empire at his throat. "Probably +thought that was what this was. We would have to draw something like +this!" + +"They simply can't imagine anybody not being either a slave or a +slave-owner," Erskyll was saying. "That must mean that there is no free +non-slave-holding class at all. Universal slavery! Well, we'll have to +do something about that. Proclaim total emancipation, immediately." + +"Oh, no; we can't do anything like that. The Constitution won't permit +us to. Section Two, Article One: _Every Empire planet shall be +self-governed as to its own affairs, in the manner of its own choice, +and without interference._" + +"But slavery.... Section Two, Article Six," Erskyll objected. "_There +shall be no chattel slavery or serfdom anywhere in the Empire; no +sapient being of any race whatsoever shall be the property of any being +but himself._" + +"That's correct," he agreed. "If this Mastership intends to remain the +planetary government under the Empire, they will be obliged to abolish +slavery, but they will have to do it by their own act. We cannot do it +for them." + +"You know what I'd do, Prince Trevannion?" Shatrak said. "I'd just heave +this Mastership thing out, and set up a nice tight military +dictatorship. We have the planet under martial rule now; let's just keep +it that way for about five years, till we can train a new government." + +That suggestion seemed to pain Count Erskyll almost as much as the +existing situation. + + * * * * * + +They dined late, in Commodore Shatrak's private dining room. Beside +Shatrak, Erskyll and himself, there were Lanze Degbrend, and Count +Erskyll's charge-d'affaires, Sharll Ernanday, and Patrique Morvill and +Pyairr Ravney and the naval intelligence officer, Commander Andrey +Douvrin. Ordinarily, he deplored serious discussion at meals, but under +the circumstances it was unavoidable; nobody could think or talk of +anything else. The discussion which he had hoped would follow the meal +began before the soup-course. + +"We have a total population of about twenty million," Lanze Degbrend +reported. "A trifle over ten thousand Masters, all ages and both sexes. +The remainder are all slaves." + +"I find that incredible," Erskyll declared promptly. "Twenty million +people, held in slavery by ten thousand! Why do they stand for it? Why +don't they rebel?" + +"Well, I can think of three good reasons," Douvrin said. "Three square +meals a day." + +[Illustration] + +"And no responsibilities; no need to make decisions," Degbrend added. +"They've been slaves for seven and a half centuries. They don't even +know the meaning of freedom, and it would frighten them if they did." + +"Chain of command," Shatrak said. When that seemed not to convey any +meaning to Erskyll, he elaborated: "We have a lot of dirty-necked +working slaves. Over every dozen of them is an overseer with a big whip +and a stungun. Over every couple of overseers there is a guard with a +submachine gun. Over them is a supervisor, who doesn't need a gun +because he can grab a handphone and call for troops. Over the +supervisors, there are higher supervisors. Everybody has it just enough +better than the level below him that he's afraid of losing his job and +being busted back to fieldhand." + +"That's it exactly, Commodore," Degbrend said. "The whole society is a +slave hierarchy. Everybody curries favor with the echelon above, and +keeps his eye on the echelon below to make sure he isn't being undercut. +We have something not too unlike that, ourselves. Any organizational +society is, in some ways, like a slave society. And everything is +determined by established routine. The whole thing has simply been +running on momentum for at least five centuries, and if we hadn't come +smashing in with a situation none of the routines covered, it would have +kept on running for another five, till everything wore out and stopped. +I heard about those missile-stations, by the way. They're typical of +everything here." + +"That's another thing," Erskyll interrupted. "These Lords-Master are the +descendants of the old Space-Vikings, and the slaves of the original +inhabitants. The Space Vikings were a technologically advanced people; +they had all the old Terran Federation science and technology, and a lot +they developed for themselves on the Sword-Worlds." + +"Well? They still had a lot of it, on the Sword-Worlds, two centuries +ago when we took them over." + +"But technology always drives out slavery; that's a fundamental law of +socio-economics. Slavery is economically unsound; it cannot compete with +power-industry, let alone cybernetics and robotics." + +He was tempted to remind young Obray of Erskyll that there were no such +things as fundamental laws of socio-economics; merely usually reliable +generalized statements of what can more or less be depended upon to +happen under most circumstances. He resisted the temptation. Count +Erskyll had had enough shocks, today, without adding to them by +gratuitous blasphemy. + +"In this case, Obray, it worked in reverse. The Space Vikings enslaved +the Adityans to hold them in subjugation. That was a politico-military +necessity. Then, being committed to slavery, with a slave population who +had to be made to earn their keep, they found cybernetics and robotics +economically unsound." + +"And almost at once, they began appointing slave overseers, and the +technicians would begin training slave assistants. Then there would be +slave supervisors to direct the overseers, slave administrators to +direct them, slave secretaries and bookkeepers, slave technicians and +engineers." + +"How about the professions, Lanze?" + +"All slave. Slave physicians, teachers, everything like that. All the +Masters are taught by slaves; the slaves are educated by apprenticeship. +The courts are in the hands of slaves; cases are heard by the chief +slaves of judges who don't even know where their own courtrooms are; +every Master has a team of slave lawyers. Most of the lawsuits are +estate-inheritance cases; some of them have been in litigation for +generations." + +"What do the Lords-Master do?" Shatrak asked. + +"Masterly things," Degbrend replied. "I was only down there since noon, +but from what I could find out, that consists of feasting, making love +to each other's wives, being entertained by slave performers, and +feuding for social precedence like wealthy old ladies on Odin." + +"You got this from the slaves? How did you get them to talk, Lanze?" + + * * * * * + +Degbrend and Ravney exchanged amused glances. Ravney said: + +"Well, I detailed a sergeant and six privates to accompany Honorable +Degbrend," Ravney said. "They.... How would you put it, Lanze?" + +"I asked a slave a question. If he refused to answer, somebody knocked +him down with a rifle-butt," Degbrend replied. "I never had to do that +more than once in any group, and I only had to do it three times in all. +After that, when I asked questions, I was answered promptly and fully. +It is surprising how rapidly news gets around the Citadel." + +"You mean you had those poor slaves beaten?" Erskyll demanded. + +"Oh, no. Beating implies repeated blows. We only gave one to a customer; +that was enough." + +"Well, how about the army, if that's what those people in the long +red-brown coats were?" Shatrak changed the subject by asking Ravney. + +"All slave, of course, officers and all. What will we do about them, +sir? I have about three thousand, either confined to their barracks or +penned up in the Citadel. I requisitioned food for them, paid for it in +chits. There were a few isolated companies and platoons that gave us +something of a fight; most of them just threw away their weapons and +bawled for quarter. I've segregated the former; with your approval, I'll +put them under Imperial officers and noncoms for a quickie training in +our tactics, and then use them to train the rest." + +"Do that, Pyairr. We only have two thousand men of our own, and that's +not enough. Do you think you can make soldiers out of any of them?" + +"Yes, I believe so, sir. They are trained, organized and armed for +civil-order work, which is what we'll need them for ourselves. In the +entire history of this army, all they have done has been to overawe +unarmed slaves; I am sure they have never been in combat with regular +troops. They have an elaborate set of training and field regulations for +the sort of work for which they were intended. What they encountered +today was entirely outside those regulations, which is why they behaved +as they did." + +"Did you have any trouble getting cooperation from the native officers?" +Shatrak asked. + +"Not in the least. They cooperated quite willingly, if not always too +intelligently. I simply told them that they were now the personal +property of his Imperial Majesty, Rodrik III. They were quite flattered +by the change of ownership. If ordered to, I believe that they would +fire on their former Lords-Master without hesitation." + +"You told those slaves that they ... _belonged_ ... to the _Emperor_?" + +Count Erskyll was aghast. He stared at Ravney for an instant, then +snatched up his brandy-glass--the meal had gotten to that point--and +drained it at a gulp. The others watched solicitously while he coughed +and spluttered over it. + +"Commodore Shatrak," he said sternly. "I hope that you will take severe +disciplinary action; this is the most outrageous...." + +"I'll do nothing of the sort," Shatrak retorted. "The colonel is to be +commended; did the best thing he could, under the circumstances. What +are you going to do when slavery is abolished here, Colonel?" + +"Oh, tell them that they have been given their freedom as a special +reward for meritorious service, and then sign them up for a five year +enlistment." + +"That might work. Again, it might not." + +"I think, Colonel, that before you do that, you had better disarm them +again. You might possibly have some trouble, otherwise." + +Ravney looked at him sharply. "They might not want to be free? I'd +thought of that." + +"Nonsense!" Erskyll declared. "Who ever heard of slaves rebelling +against freedom?" + +Freedom was a Good Thing. It was a Good Thing for everybody, everywhere +and all the time. Count Erskyll knew it, because freedom was a Good +Thing for him. + +He thought, suddenly, of an old tomcat belonging to a lady of his +acquaintance at Paris-on-Baldur, a most affectionate cat, who insisted +on catching mice and bringing them as presents to all his human friends. +To this cat's mind, it was inconceivable that anybody would not be most +happy to receive a nice fresh-killed mouse. + +"Too bad we have to set any of them free," Vann Shatrak said. "Too bad +we can't just issue everybody new servile gorgets marked, _Personal +Property of his Imperial Majesty_ and let it go at that. But I guess we +can't." + +"Commodore Shatrak, you are joking," Erskyll began. + +"I hope I am," Shatrak replied grimly. + + * * * * * + +The top landing-stage of the Citadel grew and filled the forward +viewscreen of the ship's launch. It was only when he realized that the +tiny specks were people, and the larger, birdseed-sized, specks +vehicles, that the real size of the thing was apparent. Obray of +Erskyll, beside him, had been silent. He had been looking at the +crescent-shaped industrial city, like a servile gorget around +Zeggensburg's neck. + +"The way they've been crowded together!" he said. "And the buildings; no +space between. And all that smoke! They must be using fossil-fuel!" + +"It's probably too hard to process fissionables in large quantities, +with what they have." + +"You were right, last evening. These people have deliberately halted +progress, even retrogressed, rather than give up slavery." + +Halting progress, to say nothing of retrogression, was an unthinkable +crime to him. Like freedom, progress was a Good Thing, anywhere, at all +times, and without regard to direction. + +Colonel Ravney met them when they left the launch. The top landing-stage +was swarming with Imperial troops. + +"Convocation Chamber's three stages down," he said. "About two thousand +of them there now; been coming in all morning. We have everything set +up." He laughed. "They tell me slaves are never permitted to enter it. +Maybe, but they have the place bugged to the ceiling all around." + +"Bugged? What with?" Shatrak asked, and Erskyll was wanting to know what +he meant. No doubt he thought Ravney was talking about things crawling +out of the woodwork. + +"Screen pickups, radio pickups, wired microphones; you name it and it's +there. I'll bet every slave in the Citadel knows everything that happens +in there while it's happening." + +Shatrak wanted to know if he had done anything about them. Ravney shook +his head. + +"If that's how they want to run a government, that's how they have a +right to run it. Commander Douvrin put in a few of our own, a little +better camouflaged than theirs." + +There were more troops on the third stage down. They formed a procession +down a long empty hallway, a few scared-looking slaves peeping from +doorways at them. There were more troops where the corridor ended in +great double doors, emblazoned with a straight broad-sword diagonally +across an eight-pointed star. Emblematology of planets conquered by the +Space Vikings always included swords and stars. An officer gave a +signal; the doors started to slide apart, and within, from a +screen-speaker, came a fanfare of trumpets. + +At first, all he could see was the projection-screen, far ahead, and the +tessellated aisle stretching toward it. The trumpets stopped, and they +advanced, and then he saw the Lords-Master. + +They were massed, standing among benches on either side, and if anything +Pyairr Ravney had understated their numbers. They all wore black, +trimmed with gold; he wondered if the coincidence that these were also +the Imperial colors might be useful. Queer garments, tightly fitted +tunics at the top which became flowing robes below the waist, deeply +scalloped at the edges. The sleeves were exaggeratedly wide; a knife or +a pistol, and not necessarily a small one, could be concealed in every +one. He was sure that thought had entered Vann Shatrak's mind. They were +armed, not with dress-daggers, but with swords; long, straight +cross-hilted broadswords. They were the first actual swords he had ever +seen, except in museums or on the stage. + +There was a bench of gold and onyx at the front, where, normally the +seven-man Presidium sat, and in front of it were thronelike seats for +the Chiefs of Managements, equivalent to the Imperial Council of +Ministers. Because of the projection screen that had been installed, +they had all been moved to an improvised dais on the left. There was +another dais on the right, under a canopy of black and gold velvet, +emblazoned with the gold sun and superimposed black cogwheel of the +Empire. There were three thrones, for himself, Shatrak, and Erskyll, +and a number of lesser but still imposing chairs for their staffs. + + * * * * * + +They took their seats. He slipped the earplug of his memophone into his +left ear and pressed the stud in the middle of his Grand Star of the +Order of Odin. The memophone began giving him the names of the Presidium +and of the Chiefs of Managements. He wondered how many upper-slaves had +been gunbutted to produce them. + +"Lords and Gentlemen," he said, after he had greeted them and introduced +himself and the others, "I speak to you in the name of his Imperial +Majesty, Rodrik III. His Majesty will now greet you in his own voice, by +recording." + +He pressed a button on the arm of his chair. The screen lighted, +flickered, and steadied, and the trumpets blared again. When the fanfare +ended, a voice thundered: + +"_The Emperor speaks!_" + +Rodrik III compromised on the beard question with a small mustache. He +wore the stern but kindly expression the best theatrical directors in +Asgard had taught him; Public Face Number Three. He inclined his head +slightly and stiffly, as a man wearing a seven-pound crown must. + +"We greet our subjects of Aditya to the fellowship of the Empire. We +have long had good reports of you, and we are happy now to speak to you. +Deserve well of us, and prosper under the Sun and Cogwheel." + +Another fanfare, as the image vanished. Before any of the Lords-Master +could find voice, he was speaking to them: + +"Well, Lords and Gentlemen, you have been welcomed into the Empire by +his Majesty. I know, there hasn't been a ship in or out of this system +for five centuries, and I suppose you have a great many questions to ask +about the Galactic Empire. Members of the Presidium and Chiefs of +Managements may address me directly; others will please address the +chairman." + +Olvir Nikkolon, the owner of Tchall Hozhet, was on his feet at once. He +had a loose-lipped mouth and a not entirely straight nose and pale eyes +that were never entirely still. + +"What I want to know is; why did you people have to come here to take +our planet away from us? Isn't the rest of the Galaxy big enough for +you?" + +"No, Lord Nikkolon. The Galaxy is not big enough for any competition of +sovereignty. There must be one and only one completely sovereign power. +The Terran Federation was once such a power. It failed, and vanished; +you know what followed. Darkness and anarchy. We are clawing our way up +out of that darkness. We will not fail. We will create a peaceful and +unified Galaxy." + +He talked to them, about the collapse of the old Federation, about the +interstellar wars, about the Neobarbarians, about the long night. He +told them how the Empire had risen on a few planets five thousand +light-years away, and how it had spread. + +"We will not repeat the mistakes of the Terran Federation. We will not +attempt to force every planetary government into a common pattern, or +dictate the ways in which they govern themselves. We will foster in +every way peaceful trade and communication. But we will not again permit +the plague of competing sovereignties, the condition under which war is +inevitable. The first attempt to set up such a sovereignty in +competition with the Empire will be crushed mercilessly, and no planet +inhabited by any sapient race will be permitted to remain outside the +Empire. + +"Lords and Gentlemen, permit me to show you a little of what we have +already accomplished, in the past three hundred years." + +He pressed another button. The screen flickered, and the show started. +It lasted for almost two hours; he used a handphone to interject +comments and explanations. He showed them planet after planet--Marduk, +where the Empire had begun, Baldur, Vishnu, Belphegor, Morglay, whence +their ancestors had come, Amaterasu, Irminsul, Fafnir, finally Odin, the +Imperial Planet. He showed towering cities swarming with aircars; +spaceports where the huge globes of interstellar ships landed and lifted +out; farms and industries; vast crowds at public celebrations; +troop-reviews and naval bases and fleet-maneuvers; historical views of +the battles that had created Imperial power. + +"That, Lords and Gentlemen, is what you have an opportunity to bring +your planet into. If you accept, you will continue to rule Aditya under +the Empire. If you refuse, you will only put us to the inconvenience of +replacing you with a new planetary government, which will be annoying +for us and, probably, fatal for you." + +Nobody said anything for a few minutes. Then Rovard Javasan, the Chief +of Administration and the owner of the mountainous Khreggor Chmidd, +rose. + +"Lords and Gentlemen, we cannot resist anything like this," he said. "We +cannot even resist the force they have here; that was tried yesterday, +and you all saw what happened. Now, Prince Trevannion; just to what +extent will the Mastership retain its sovereignty under the Empire?" + +"To practically the same extent as at present. You will, of course, +acknowledge the Emperor as your supreme ruler, and will govern subject +to the Imperial Constitution. Have you any colonies on any of the other +planets of this system?" + +"We had a shipyard and docks on the inner moon, and we had mines on the +fourth planet of this system, but it is almost airless and the colony +was limited to a couple of dome-cities. Both were abandoned years ago." + +"Both will be reopened before long, I daresay. We'd better make the +limits of your sovereignty the orbit of the outer planet of this system. +You may have your own normal-space ships, but the Empire will control +all hyperdrive craft, and all nuclear weapons. I take it you are the +sole government on this planet? Then no other will be permitted to +compete with you." + +[Illustration] + +"Well, what are they taking away from us, then?" somebody in the rear +asked. + +"I assume that you are agreed to accept the sovereignty of his Imperial +Majesty? Good. As a matter of form, Lord Nikkolon, will you take a vote? +His Imperial Majesty would be most gratified if it were unanimous." + +Somebody insisted that the question would have to be debated, which +meant that everybody would have to make a speech, all two thousand of +them. He informed them that there was nothing to debate; they were +confronted with an accomplished fact which they must accept. So Nikkolon +made a speech, telling them at what a great moment in Adityan history +they stood, and concluded by saying: + +"I take it that it is the unanimous will of this Convocation that the +sovereignty of the Galactic Emperor be acknowledged, and that we, the +'Mastership of Aditya' do here proclaim our loyal allegiance to his +Imperial Majesty, Rodrik the Third. Any dissent? Then it is ordered so +recorded." + +Then he had to make another speech, to inform the representatives of his +new sovereign of the fact. Prince Trevannion, in the name of the +Emperor, delivered the well-worn words of welcome, and Lanze Degbrend +got the coronet out of the black velvet bag under his arm and the +Imperial Proconsul, Obray, Count Erskyll, was crowned. Erskyll's +charge-d'affaires, Sharll Ernanday, produced the scroll of the Imperial +Constitution, and Erskyll began to read. + +Section One: The universality of the Empire. The absolute powers of the +Emperor. The rules of succession. The Emperor also to be Planetary King +of Odin. + +Section Two: Every planetary government to be sovereign in its own +internal affairs.... Only one sovereign government upon any planet, or +within normal-space travel distance.... All hyperspace ships, and all +nuclear weapons.... No planetary government shall make war ... enter +into any alliance ... tax, regulate or restrain interstellar trade or +communication.... Every sapient being shall be equally protected.... + +Then he came to Article Six. He cleared his throat, raised his voice, +and read: + +"_There shall be no chattel-slavery or serfdom anywhere in the Empire; +no sapient being, of any race whatsoever, shall be the property of any +being but himself._" + +The Convocation Chamber was silent, like a bomb with a defective fuse, +for all of thirty seconds. Then it blew up with a roar. Out of the +corner of his eye, he saw the doors slide apart and an airjeep, +bristling with machine guns, float in and rise to the ceiling. The first +inarticulate roar was followed by a babel of voices, like a tropical +cloudburst on a prefab hut. Olvir Nikkolon's mouth was working as he +shouted unheard. + +He pressed another of the row of buttons on the arm of his chair. Out of +the screen-speaker a voice, as loud, by actual sound-meter test, as an +anti-vehicle gun, thundered: + +"SILENCE!" + +Into the shocked stillness which it produced, he spoke, like a +schoolmaster who has returned to find his room in an uproar: + +"Lord Nikkolon; what is this nonsense? You are Chairman of the +Presidium; is this how you keep order here? What is this, a planetary +parliament or a spaceport saloon?" + +"You tricked us!" Nikkolon accused. "You didn't tell us about that +article when we voted. Why, our whole society is based on slavery!" + +Other voices joined in: + +"That's all right for you people, you have robots...." + +"Maybe you don't know it, but there are twenty million slaves on this +planet...." + +"Look, you can't free slaves! That's ridiculous. A slave's a _slave_!" + +"Who'll do the work? And who would they belong to? They'd have to belong +to somebody!" + +"What I want to know," Rovard Javasan made himself heard, is, "_how_ are +you going to free them?" + +There was an ancient word, originating in one of the lost languages of +Pre-Atomic Terra--_sixtifor_. It meant, the basic, fundamental, +question. Rovard Javasan, he suspected, had just asked the sixtifor. Of +course, Obray, Count Erskyll, Planetary Proconsul of Aditya, didn't +realize that. He didn't even know what Javasan meant. Just free them. +Commodore Vann Shatrak couldn't see much of a problem, either. He would +have answered, Just free them, and then shoot down the first two or +three thousand who took it seriously. Jurgen, Prince Trevannion, had no +intention whatever of attempting to answer the sixtifor. + +"My dear Lord Javasan, that is the problem of the Adityan Mastership. +They are your slaves; we have neither the intention nor the right to +free them. But let me remind you that slavery is specifically prohibited +by the Imperial Constitution; if you do not abolish it immediately, the +Empire will be forced to intervene. I believe, toward the last of those +audio-visuals, you saw some examples of Imperial intervention." + +They had. A few looked apprehensively at the ceiling, as though +expecting the hellburners and planet-busters and nega-matter-bombs at +any moment. Then one of the members among the benches rose. + +"We don't know how we are going to do it, Prince Trevannion," he said. +"We will do it, since this is the Empire law, but you will have to tell +us how." + +"Well, the first thing will have to be an Act of Convocation, outlawing +the ownership of one being by another. Set some definite date on which +the slaves must all be freed; that need not be too immediate. Then, I +would suggest that you set up some agency to handle all the details. +And, as soon as you have enacted the abolition of slavery, which should +be this afternoon, appoint a committee, say a dozen of you, to confer +with Count Erskyll and myself. Say you have your committee aboard the +_Empress Eulalie_ in six hours. We'll have transportation arranged by +then. And let me point out, I hope for the last time, that we discuss +matters directly, without intermediaries. We don't want any more slaves, +pardon, freedmen, coming aboard to talk for you, as happened yesterday." + + * * * * * + +Obray, Count Erskyll, was unhappy about it. He did not think that the +Lords-Master were to be trusted to abolish slavery; he said so, on the +launch, returning to the ship. Jurgen, Prince Trevannion was inclined to +agree. He doubted if any of the Lords-Master he had seen were to be +trusted, unassisted, to fix a broken mouse-trap. + +Line-Commodore Vann Shatrak was also worried. He was wondering how long +it would take for Pyairr Ravney to make useful troops out of the +newly-surrendered slave soldiers, and where he was going to find +contragravity to shift them expeditiously from trouble-spot to +trouble-spot. Erskyll thought he was anticipating resistance on the part +of the Masters, and for once he approved the use of force. Ordinarily, +force was a Bad Thing, but this was a Good Cause, which justified any +means. + +They entertained the committee from the Convocation for dinner, that +evening. They came aboard stiffly hostile--most understandably so, under +the circumstances--and Prince Trevannion exerted all his copious charm +to thaw them out, beginning with the pre-dinner cocktails and continuing +through the meal. By the time they retired for coffee and brandy to the +parlor where the conference was to be held, the Lords-ex-Masters were +almost friendly. + +"We've enacted the Emancipation Act," Olvir Nikkolon, who was ex officio +chairman of the committee, reported. "Every slave on the planet must be +free before the opening of the next Midyear Feasts." + +"And when will that be?" + +Aditya, he knew, had a three hundred and fifty-eight day year; even if +the Midyear Feasts were just past, they were giving themselves very +little time. In about a hundred and fifty days, Nikkolon said. + +"Good heavens!" Erskyll began, indignantly. + +"I should say so, myself," he put in, cutting off anything else the new +Proconsul might have said. "You gentlemen are allowing yourselves +dangerously little time. A hundred and fifty days will pass quite +rapidly, and you have twenty million slaves to deal with. If you start +at this moment and work continuously, you'll have a little under a +second apiece for each slave." + +The Lords-Master looked dismayed. So, he was happy to observe, did Count +Erskyll. + +"I assume you have some system of slave registration?" he continued. + +That was safe. They had a bureaucracy, and bureaucracies tend to have +registrations of practically everything. + +"Oh, yes, of course," Rovard Javasan assured him. "That's your +Management, isn't it, Sesar; Servile Affairs?" + +"Yes, we have complete data on every slave on the planet," Sesar +Martwynn, the Chief of Servile Management, said. "Of course, I'd have to +ask Zhorzh about the details...." + +Zhorzh was Zhorzh Khouzhik, Martwynn's chief-slave in office. + +"At least, he was my chief-slave; now you people have taken him away +from me. I don't know what I'm going to do without him. For that matter, +I don't know what poor Zhorzh will do, either." + +"Have you gentlemen informed your chief-slaves that they are free, yet?" + +Nikkolon and Javasan looked at each other. Sesar Martwynn laughed. + +"They know," Javasan said. "I must say they are much disturbed." + +"Well, reassure them, as soon as you're back at the Citadel," he told +them. "Tell them that while they are now free, they need not leave you +unless they so desire; that you will provide for them as before." + +"You mean, we can keep our chief-slaves?" somebody cried. + +"Yes, of course--chief-freedmen, you'll have to call them, now. You'll +have to pay them a salary...." + +"You mean, give them money?" Ranal Valdry, the Lord Provost-Marshal +demanded, incredulously. "Pay our own slaves?" + +"You idiot," somebody told him, "they aren't our slaves any more. That's +the whole point of this discussion." + +"But ... but how can we pay slaves?" one of the committeemen-at-large +asked. "Freedmen, I mean?" + +"With money. You do have money, haven't you?" + +"Of course we have. What do you think we are, savages?" + +"What kind of money?" + +Why, money; what did he think? The unit was the star-piece, the stelly. +When he asked to see some of it, they were indignant. Nobody carried +money; wasn't Masterly. A Master never even touched the stuff; that was +what slaves were for. He wanted to know how it was secured, and they +didn't know what he meant, and when he tried to explain their +incomprehension deepened. It seemed that the Mastership issued money to +finance itself, and individual Masters issued money on their personal +credit, and it was handled through the Mastership Banks. + +"That's Fedrig Daffysan's Management; he isn't here," Rovard Javasan +said. "I can't explain it, myself." + +And without his chief-slave, Fedrig Daffysan probably would not be able +to, either. + +"Yes, gentlemen. I understand. You have money. Now, the first thing you +will have to do is furnish us with a complete list of all the +slave-owners on the planet, and a list of all the slaves held by each. +This will be sent back to Odin, and will be the basis for the +compensation to be paid for the destruction of your property-rights in +these slaves. How much is a slave worth, by the way?" + +Nobody knew. Slaves were never sold; it wasn't Masterly to sell one's +slaves. It wasn't even heard of. + +"Well, we'll arrive at some valuation. Now, as soon as you get back to +the Citadel, talk at once to your former chief-slaves, and their +immediate subordinates, and explain the situation to them. This can be +passed down through administrative freedmen to the workers; you must see +to it that it is clearly understood, at all levels, that as long as the +freedmen remain at their work they will be provided for and paid, but +that if they quit your service they will receive nothing. Do you think +you can do that?" + +"You mean, give them everything we've been giving them now, and then pay +them money?" Ranal Valdry almost howled. + +"Oh, no. You pay them a fixed wage. You charge them for everything you +give them, and deduct that from their wages. It will mean considerable +extra bookkeeping, but outside of that I believe you'll find that things +will go along much as they always did." + +The Masters had begun to relax, and by the time he was finished all of +them were smiling in relief. Count Erskyll, on the other hand, was +almost writhing in his chair. It must be horrible to be a brilliant +young Proconsul of liberal tendencies and to have to sit mute while a +cynical old Ministerial Secretary, vastly one's superior in the +Imperial Establishment and a distant cousin of the Emperor to boot, +calmly bartered away the sacred liberties of twenty million people. + +"But would that be legal, under the Imperial Constitution?" Olvir +Nikkolon asked. + +"I shouldn't have suggested it if it hadn't been. The Constitution only +forbids physical ownership of one sapient being by another; it +emphatically does not guarantee anyone an unearned livelihood." + + * * * * * + +The Convocation committee returned to Zeggensburg to start preparing the +servile population for freedom, or reasonable facsimile. The +chief-slaves would take care of that; each one seemed to have a list of +other chief-slaves, and the word would spread from them on an +each-one-call-five system. The public announcement would be postponed +until the word could be passed out to the upper servile levels. A +meeting with the chief-slaves in office of the various Managements was +scheduled for the next afternoon. + +Count Erskyll chatted with forced affability while the departing +committeemen were being seen to the launch that would take them down. +When the airlock closed behind them, he drew Prince Trevannion aside out +of earshot of their subordinates. + +"You know what you're doing?" he raged, in a hoarse whisper. "You're +simply substituting peonage for outright slavery!" + +"I'd call that something of a step." He motioned Erskyll into one of the +small hall-cars, climbed in beside him, and lifted it, starting toward +the living-area. "The Convocation has acknowledged the principle that +sapient beings should not be property. That's a great deal, for one +day." + +"But the people will remain in servitude, you know that. The Masters +will keep them in debt, and they'll be treated just as brutally...." + +"Oh, there will be abuses; that's to be expected. This Freedmen's +Management, nee Servile Management, will have to take care of that. +Better make a memo to talk with this chief-freedman of Martwynn's, +what's his name? Zhorzh Khouzhik; that's right, let Zhorzh do it. +Employment Practices Code, investigation agency, enforcement. If he +can't do the job, that's not our fault. The Empire does not guarantee +every planet an honest, intelligent and efficient government; just a +single one." + +"But...." + +"It will take two or three generations. At first, the freedmen will be +exploited just as they always have been, but in time there will be +protests, and disorders, and each time, there will be some small +improvement. A society must evolve, Obray. Let these people earn their +freedom. Then they will be worthy of it." + +"They should have their freedom now." + +"This present generation? What do you think freedom means to them? _We +don't have to work, any more._ So down tools and let everything stop at +once. _We can do anything we want to._ Let's kill the overseer. And: +_Anything that belongs to the Masters belongs to us; we're Masters too, +now._ No, I think it's better, for the present, to tell them that this +freedom business is just a lot of Masterly funny-talk, and that things +aren't really being changed at all. It will effect a considerable saving +of his Imperial Majesty's ammunition, for one thing." + +He dropped Erskyll at his apartment and sent the hall-car back from his +own. Lanze Degbrend was waiting for him when he entered. + +"Ravney's having trouble. That is the word he used," Degbrend said. In +Pyairr Ravney's lexicon, trouble meant shooting. "The news of the +Emancipation Act is leaking all over the place. Some of the troops in +the north who haven't been disarmed yet are mutinying, and there are +slave insurrections in a number of places." + +"They think the Masters have forsaken them, and it's every slave for +himself." He hadn't expected that to start so soon. "The announcement +had better go out as quickly as possible. And I think we're going to +have some trouble. You have information-taps into Count Erskyll's +numerous staff? Use them as much as you can." + +"You think he's going to try to sabotage this employment programme of +yours, sir?" + +"Oh, he won't think of it in those terms. He'll be preventing me from +sabotaging the Emancipation. He doesn't want to wait three generations; +he wants to free them at once. Everything has to be at once for +six-month-old puppies, six-year-old children, and reformers of any age." + + * * * * * + +The announcement did not go out until nearly noon the next day. In terms +comprehensible to any low-grade submoron, it was emphasized that all +this meant was that slaves should henceforth be called freedmen, that +they could have money just like Lords-Master, and that if they worked +faithfully and obeyed orders they would be given everything they were +now receiving. Ravney had been shuttling troops about, dealing with the +sporadic outbreaks of disorder here and there: many of these had been +put down, and the rest died out after the telecast explaining the +situation. + +In addition, some of Commander Douvrin's intelligence people had +discovered that the only source of fissionables and radioactives for the +planet was a complex of uranite mines, separation plants, refineries and +reaction-plants on the smaller of Aditya's two continents, Austragonia. +In spite of other urgent calls on his resources, Ravney landed troops to +seize these, and a party of engineers followed them down from the +_Empress Eulalie_ to make an inspection. + +At lunch, Count Erskyll was slightly less intransigent on the subject of +the wage-employment proposals. No doubt some of his advisors had been +telling him what would happen if any appreciable number of Aditya's +labor-force stopped work suddenly, and the wave of uprisings that had +broken out before any public announcement had been made puzzled him. He +was also concerned about finding a suitable building for a proconsular +palace; the business of the Empire on Aditya could not be conducted long +from shipboard. + +Going down to the Citadel that afternoon, they found the chief-freedmen +of the non-functional Chiefs of Management assembled in a large room on +the fifth level down. There was a cluster of big tables and +communication-screens and wired telephones in the middle, with smaller +tables around them, at which freedmen in variously colored gowns sat. +The ones at the central tables, a dozen and a half, all wore +chief-slaves' white gowns. + +Trevannion and Erskyll and Patrique Morvill and Lanze Degbrend joined +these; subordinates guided the rest of the party--a couple of Ravney's +officers and Erskyll's numerous staff of advisors and specialists--to +distribute themselves with their opposite numbers in the Mastership. +Everybody on the Adityan side seemed uneasy with these strange +hermaphrodite creatures who were neither slaves nor Lords-Master. + +"Well, gentlemen," Count Erskyll began, "I suppose you have been +informed by your former Lords-Master of how relations between them and +you will be in the future?" + +"Oh, yes, Lord Proconsul," Khreggor Chmidd replied happily. "Everything +will be just as before, except that the Lords-Master will be called +Lords-Employer, and the slaves will be called freedmen, and any time +they want to starve to death, they can leave their Employers if they +wish." + +Count Erskyll frowned. That wasn't just exactly what he had hoped +Emancipation would mean to these people. + +"Nobody seems to understand about this money thing, though," Zhorzh +Khouzhik, Sesar Martwynn's chief-freedman said. "My Lord-Master--" He +slapped himself across the mouth and said, "Lord-Employer!" five times, +rapidly. "My Lord-_Employer_ tried to explain it to me, but I don't +think he understands very clearly, himself." + +"None of them do." + +The speaker was a small man with pale eyes and a mouth like a rat-trap; +Yakoop Zhannar, chief-freedman to Ranal Valdry, the Provost-Marshal. + +"Its really your idea, Prince Trevannion," Erskyll said. "Perhaps you +can explain it." + +"Oh, it's very simple. You see...." + +At least, it had seemed simple when he started. Labor was a commodity, +which the worker sold and the employer purchased; a "fair wage" was one +which enabled both to operate at a profit. Everybody knew that--except +here on Aditya. On Aditya, a slave worked because he was a slave, and a +Master provided for him because he was a Master, and that was all there +was to it. But now, it seemed, there weren't any more Masters, and there +weren't any more slaves. + +"That's exactly it," he replied, when somebody said as much. "So now, if +the slaves, I mean, freedmen, want to eat, they have to work to earn +money to buy food, and if the Employers want work done, they have to pay +people to do it." + +[Illustration] + +"Then why go to all the trouble about the money?" That was an elderly +chief-freedman, Mykhyl Eschkhaffar, whose Lord-Employer, Oraze Borztall, +was Manager of Public Works. "Before your ships came, the slaves worked +for the Masters, and the Masters took care of the slaves, and everybody +was content. Why not leave it like that?" + +"Because the Galactic Emperor, who is the Lord-Master of these people, +says that there must be no more slaves. Don't ask me why," Tchall Hozhet +snapped at him. "I don't know, either. But they are here with ships and +guns and soldiers; what can we do?" + +"That's very close to it," he admitted. "But there is one thing you +haven't considered. A slave only gets what his master gives him. But a +free worker for pay gets money which he can spend for whatever he wants, +and he can save money, and if he finds that he can make more money +working for somebody else, he can quit his employer and get a better +job." + +"We hadn't thought of that," Khreggor Chmidd said. "A slave, even a +chief-slave, was never allowed to have money of his own, and if he got +hold of any, he couldn't spend it. But now...." A glorious vista seemed +to open in front of him. "And he can accumulate money. I don't suppose a +common worker could, but an upper slave.... Especially a +chief-slave...." He slapped his mouth, and said, "Freedman!" five times. + +"Yes, Khreggor." That was Ridgerd Schferts (Fedrig Daffysan; Fiscal +Management). "I am sure we could all make quite a lot of money, now that +we are freedmen." + +Some of them were briefly puzzled; gradually, comprehension dawned. +Obray, Count Erskyll, looked distressed; he seemed to be hoping, vainly, +that they weren't thinking of what he suspected they were. + +"How about the Mastership freedmen?" another asked. "We, here, will be +paid by our Lords-Mas- ... Lords-Employer. But everybody from the green +robes down were provided for by the Mastership. Who will pay them, now?" + +"Why, the Mastership, of course," Ridgerd Schferts said. "My +Management--my Lord-Employer's, I mean--will issue the money to pay +them." + +"You may need a new printing-press," Lanze Degbrend said. "And an awful +lot of paper." + +"This planet will need currency acceptable in interstellar trade," +Erskyll said. + +Everybody looked blankly at him. He changed the subject: + +"Mr. Chmidd, could you or Mr. Hozhet tell me what kind of a constitution +the Mastership has?" + +"You mean, like the paper you read in the Convocation?" Hozhet asked. +"Oh, there is nothing at all like that. The former Lords-Master simply +ruled." + +No. They reigned. This servile _tammanihal_--another ancient Terran +word, of uncertain origin--ruled. + +"Well, how is the Mastership organized, then?" Erskyll persisted. "How +did the Lord Nikkolon get to be Chairman of the Presidium, and the Lord +Javasan to be Chief of Administration?" + +That was very simple. The Convocation, consisting of the heads of all +the Masterly families, actually small clans, numbered about twenty-five +hundred. They elected the seven members of the Presidium, who drew lots +for the Chairmanship. They served for life. Vacancies were filled by +election on nomination of the surviving members. The Presidium appointed +the Chiefs of Managements, who also served for life. + +At least, it had stability. It was self-perpetuating. + +"Does the Convocation make the laws?" Erskyll asked. + +Hozhet was perplexed. "_Make_ laws, Lord Proconsul? Oh, no. We have +laws." + +There were planets, here and there through the Empire, where an attitude +like that would have been distinctly beneficial; planets with elective +parliaments, every member of which felt himself obligated to get as many +laws enacted during his term of office as possible. + +"But this is dreadful; you _must_ have a constitution!" Obray of Erskyll +was shocked. "We will have to get one drawn up and adopted." + +"We don't know anything about that at all," Khreggor Chmidd admitted. +"This is something new. You will have to help us." + +"I certainly will, Mr. Chmidd. Suppose you form a committee--yourself, +and Mr. Hozhet, and three or four others; select them among +yourselves--and we can get together and talk over what will be needed. +And another thing. We'll have to stop calling this the Mastership. There +are no more Masters." + +"The Employership?" Lanze Degbrend dead-panned. + +Erskyll looked at him angrily. "This is something," he told the +chief-freedmen, "that should not belong to the Employers alone. It +should belong to everybody. Let us call it the Commonwealth. That means +something everybody owns in common." + +"Something everybody owns, nobody owns," Mykhyl Eschkhaffar objected. + +"Oh, no, Mykhyl; it will belong to everybody," Khreggor Chmidd told him +earnestly. "But somebody will have to take care of it for everybody. +That," he added complacently, "will be you and me and the rest of us +here." + +"I believe," Yakoop Zhannar said, almost smiling, "that this freedom is +going to be a wonderful thing. For us." + +"I don't like it!" Mykhyl Eschkhaffar said stubbornly. "Too many new +things, and too much changing names. We have to call slaves freedmen; we +have to call Lords Master Lords-Employer; we have to call the Management +of Servile Affairs the Management for Freedmen. Now we have to call the +Mastership this new name, Commonwealth. And all these new things, for +which we have no routine procedures and no directives. I wish these +people had never heard of this planet." + +"That makes at least two of us," Patrique Morvill said, _sotto voce_. + +"Well, the planetary constitution can wait just a bit," Prince +Trevannion suggested. "We have a great many items on the agenda which +must be taken care of immediately. For instance, there's this thing +about finding a proconsular palace...." + + * * * * * + +A surprising amount of work had been done at the small tables where +Erskyll's staff of political and economic and technological experts had +been conferring with the subordinate upper-freedmen. It began coming out +during the pre-dinner cocktails aboard the _Empress Eulalie_, continued +through the meal, and was fully detailed during the formal debriefing +session afterward. + +Finding a suitable building for the Proconsular Palace would present +difficulties. Real estate was not sold on Aditya, any more than slaves +were. It was not only un-Masterly but illegal; estates were all entailed +and the inalienable property of Masterly families. What was wanted was +one of the isolated residential towers in Zeggensburg, far enough from +the Citadel to avoid an appearance of too close supervision. The last +thing anybody wanted was to establish the Proconsul in the Citadel +itself. The Management of Business of the Mastership, however, had +promised to do something about it. That would mean, no doubt, that the +_Empress Eulalie_ would be hanging over Zeggensburg, serving as +Proconsular Palace, for the next year or so. + +The Servile Management, rechristened Freedmen's Management, would +undertake to safeguard the rights of the newly emancipated slaves. There +would be an Employment Code--Count Erskyll was invited to draw that +up--and a force of investigators, and an enforcement agency, under +Zhorzh Khouzhik. + +One of Commander Douvrin's men, who had been at the Austragonia +nuclear-industries establishment, was present and reported: + +"Great Ghu, you ought to see that place! They've people working in +places I wouldn't send an unshielded robot, and the hospital there is +bulging with radiation-sickness cases. The equipment must have been +brought here by the Space Vikings. What's left of it is the damnedest +mess of goldbergery I ever saw. The whole thing ought to be shut down +and completely rebuilt." + +Erskyll wanted to know who owned it. The Mastership, he was told. + +"That's right," one of his economics men agreed. "Management of Public +Works." That would be Mykhyl Eschkhaffar, who had so bitterly objected +to the new nomenclature. "If anybody needs fissionables for a +power-reactor or radioactives for nuclear-electric conversion, his chief +business slave gets what's needed. Furthermore, doesn't even have to +sign for it." + +"Don't they sell it for revenue?" + +"Nifflheim, no! This government doesn't need revenue. This government +supports itself by counterfeiting. When the Mastership needs money, they +just have Ridgerd Schferts print up another batch. Like everybody else." + +"Then the money simply isn't worth anything!" Erskyll was horrified, +which was rapidly becoming his normal state. + +"Who cares about money, Obray," he said. "Didn't you hear them, last +evening? It's un-Masterly to bother about things like money. Of course, +everybody owes everybody for everything, but it's all in the family." + +"Well, something will have to be done about that!" + +That was at least the tenth time he had said that, this evening. + + * * * * * + +It came practically as a thunderbolt when Khreggor Chmidd screened the +ship the next afternoon to report that a Proconsular Palace had been +found, and would be ready for occupancy in a day or so. The +chief-freedmen of the Management of Business of the Mastership and of +the Lord Chief Justiciar had found one, the Elegry Palace, which had +been unoccupied except for what he described as a small caretaking staff +for years, while two Masterly families disputed inheritance rights and +slave lawyers quibbled endlessly before a slave judge. The chief +freedman of the Lord Chief Justiciar had simply summoned judge and +lawyers into his office and ordered them to settle the suit at once. +The settlement had consisted of paying both litigants the full value of +the building; this came to fifty million stellies apiece. Arbitrarily, +the stelly was assigned a value in Imperial crowns of a hundred for one. +A million crowns was about what the building would be worth, with +contents, on Odin. It would be paid for with a draft on the Imperial +Exchequer. + +"Well, you have some hard currency on the planet, now," he told Count +Erskyll, while they were having a pre-dinner drink together that +evening. "I hope it doesn't touch off an inflation, if the term is +permissible when applied to Adityan currency." + +Erskyll snapped his fingers. "Yes! And there's the money we've been +spending for supplies. And when we start compensation payments.... +Excuse me for a moment." + +He dashed off, his drink in his hand. After a long interval, he was +back, carrying a fresh one he had gotten from a bartending robot en +route. + +"Well, that's taken care of," he said. "My fiscal man's getting in touch +with Ridgerd Schferts; the Elegry heirs will be paid in Adityan +stellies, and the Imperial crowns will be held in the Commonwealth Bank, +or, better, banked in Asgard, to give Aditya some off-planet credit. And +we'll do the same with our other expenditures, and with the +slave-compensation. This is going to be wonderful; this planet needs +everything in the way of industrial equipment; this is how they're going +to get it." + +"But, Obray; the compensations are owing to the individual Masters. They +should be paid in crowns. You know as well as I do that this +hundred-for-one rate is purely a local fiction. On the interstellar +exchange, these stellies have a crown value of precisely +zero-point-zero." + +"You know what would happen if these ci-devant Masters got hold of +Imperial crowns," Erskyll said. "They'd only squander them back again +for useless imported luxuries. This planet needs a complete +modernization, and this is the only way the money to pay for it can be +gotten." He was gesturing excitedly with the almost-full glass in his +hand; Prince Trevannion stepped back out of the way of the splash he +anticipated. "I have no sympathy for these ci-devant Masters. They own +every stick and stone and pinch of dust on this planet, as it is. Is +that fair?" + +"Possibly not. But neither is what you're proposing to do." + +Obray, Count Erskyll, couldn't see that. He was proposing to secure the +Greatest Good for the Greatest Number, and to Nifflheim with any +minorities who happened to be in the way. + + * * * * * + +The Navy took over the Elegry Palace the next morning, ran up the +Imperial Sun and Cogwheel flag, and began transmitting views of its +interior up to the _Empress Eulalie_. It was considerably smaller than +the Imperial Palace at Asgard on Odin, but room for room the furnishings +were rather more ornate and expensive. By the next afternoon, the +counter-espionage team that had gone down reported the Masterly living +quarters clear of pickups, microphones, and other apparatus of servile +snooping, of which they had found many. The _Canopus_ was recalled from +her station over the northern end of the continent and began sending +down the proconsulate furnishings stowed aboard, including several +hundred domestic robots. + +The skeleton caretaking staff Chmidd had mentioned proved to number five +hundred. + +"What are we going to do about them?" Erskyll wanted to know. "There's a +limit to the upkeep allowance for a proconsulate, and we can't pay five +hundred useless servants. The chief-freedman, and about a dozen +assistants, and a few to operate the robots, when we train them, but +five hundred...!" + +"Let Zhorzh do it," Prince Trevannion suggested. "Isn't that what this +Freedmen's Management is for; to find employment for emancipated slaves? +Just emancipate them and turn them over to Khouzhik." + +Khouzhik promptly placed all of them on the payroll of his Management. +Khouzhik was having his hands full. He had all his top mathematical +experts, some of whom even understood the use of the slide-rule, trying +to work up a scale of wages. Erskyll loaned him a few of his staff. None +of the ideas any of them developed proved workable. Khouzhik had also +organized a corps of investigators, and he was beginning to annex the +private guard-companies of the Lords-ex-Master, whom he was organizing +into a police force. + + * * * * * + +The nuclear works on Austragonia were closed down. Mykhyl Eschkhaffar +ordered a programme of rationing and priorities to conserve the stock of +plutonium and radioactive isotopes on hand, and he decided that +henceforth nuclear-energy materials would be sold instead of furnished +freely. He simply found out what the market quotations on Odin were, +translated that into stellies, and adopted it. This was just a base +price; there would have to be bribes for priority allocations, rakeoffs +for the under-freedmen, and graft for the business-freedmen of the +Lords-ex-Masters who bought the stuff. The latter were completely +unconcerned; none of them even knew about it. + +The Convocation adjourned until the next regular session, at the Midyear +Feasts, an eight-day intercalary period which permitted dividing the +358-day Adityan year into ten months of thirty-five days each. Count +Erskyll was satisfied to see them go. He was working on a constitution +for the Commonwealth of Aditya, and was making very little progress with +it. + +"It's one of these elaborate check-and-balance things," Lanze Degbrend +reported. "To begin with, it was the constitution of Aton, with an +elective president substituted for a hereditary king. Of course, there +are a lot of added gadgets; Atonian Radical Democrat stuff. Chmidd and +Hozhet and the other chief-slaves don't like it, either." + +"Slap your mouth and say, 'Freedmen,' five times." + +"Nuts," his subordinate retorted insubordinately. "I know a slave when I +see one. A slave is a slave, with or without a gorget; if he doesn't +wear it around his neck, he has it tattooed on his soul. It takes at +least three generations to rub it off." + +"I could wish that Count Erskyll...." he began. "What else is our +Proconsul doing?" + +"Well, I'm afraid he's trying to set up some kind of a scheme for the +complete nationalization of all farms, factories, transport facilities, +and other means of production and distribution," Degbrend said. + +"He's not going to try to do that himself, is he?" He was, he +discovered, speaking sharply, and modified his tone. "He won't do it +with Imperial authority, or with Imperial troops. Not as long as I'm +here. And when we go back to Odin, I'll see to it that Vann Shatrak +understands that." + +"Oh, no. The Commonwealth of Aditya will do that," Degbrend said. +"Chmidd and Hozhet and Yakoop Zhannar and Zhorzh Khouzhik and the rest +of them, that is. He wants it done legitimately and legally. That means, +he'll have to wait till the Midyear Feasts, when the Convocation +assembles, and he can get his constitution enacted. If he can get it +written by then." + +Vann Shatrak sent two of the destroyers off to explore the moons of +Aditya, of which there were two. The outer moon, Aditya-_Ba'_, was an +irregular chunk of rock fifty miles in diameter, barely visible to the +naked eye. The inner, Aditya-_Alif_, however, was an eight-hundred-mile +sphere; it had once been the planetary ship-station and shipyard-base. +It seemed to have been abandoned when the Adityan technology and economy +had begun sagging under the weight of the slave system. Most of the +installations remained, badly run down but repairable. Shatrak +transferred as many of his technicians as he could spare to the _Mizar_ +and sent her to recondition the shipyard and render the underground city +inhabitable again so that the satellite could be used as a base for his +ships. He decided, then, to send the _Irma_ back to Odin with reports of +the annexation of Aditya, a proposal that Aditya-_Alif_ be made a +permanent Imperial naval-base, and a request for more troops. + +Prince Trevannion taped up his own reports, describing the general +situation on the newly annexed planet, and doing nothing to minimize the +problems facing its Proconsul. + +"Count Erskyll" he finished, "is doing the best possible under +circumstances from which I myself would feel inclined to shrink. If not +carried to excess, perhaps youthful idealism is not without value in +Empire statecraft. I understand that Commodore Shatrak, who is also +coping with some very trying problems, is requesting troop +reenforcements. I believe this request amply justified, and would +recommend that they be gotten here as speedily as possible. + +[Illustration] + +"I understand that he is also recommending a permanent naval base on the +larger of this planet's two satellites. This I also endorse +unreservedly. It would have a most salutary effect on the local +government. I would further recommend that Commodore Shatrak be placed +in command of it, with suitable promotion, which he has long ago +earned." + +Erskyll was surprised that he was not himself returning to Odin on the +destroyer, and evidently disturbed. He mentioned it during pre-dinner +cocktails that evening. + +"I know, my own work here is finished; was the moment the Convocation +voted acknowledgment of Imperial rule." Prince Trevannion replied. "I +would like to stay on for the Midyear Feasts, though. The Convocation +will vote on your constitution, and I would like to be able to report +their action to the Prime Minister. How is it progressing, by the way?" + +"Well, we have a rough draft. I don't care much for it, myself, but +Citizen Hozhet and Citizen Chmidd and Citizen Zhannar and the others are +most enthusiastic, and, after all, they are the ones who will have to +operate under it." + +The Masterly estates would be the representative units; from each, the +freedmen would elect representatives to regional elective councils, and +these in turn would elect representatives to a central electoral council +which would elect a Supreme People's Legislative Council. This would +not only function as the legislative body, but would also elect a +Manager-in-Chief, who would appoint the Chiefs of Management, who, in +turn, 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, "I +suppose it will take a little time for them to learn democracy." This +was the first time he had come out and admitted that. "There is to be a +Constituent Convention in five years, to draw up a new constitution." + +"How about the Convocation? You don't expect them to vote themselves out +of existence, do you?" + +"Oh, we're keeping the Convocation, in the present constitution, but +they won't have any power. Five years from now, we'll be rid of them +entirely. Look here; you're not going to work against this, are you? You +won't advise these ci-devant Lords-Master to vote against it, when it +comes up?" + +"Certainly not. I think your constitution--Khreggor Chmidd's and Tchall +Hozhet's, to be exact--will be nothing short of a political disaster, +but it will insure some political stability, which is all that matters +from the Imperial point of view. An Empire statesman must always guard +against sympathizing with local factions and interests, and I can think +of no planet on which I could be safer from any such temptation. If +these Lords-Master want to vote their throats cut, and the slaves want +to 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 sent +for water and washed his hands. + + * * * * * + +Metaphorically, he did so at that moment; thereafter his interest in +Adityan affairs was that of a spectator at a boring and stupid show, +watching only because there is nothing else to watch, and wishing that +it had been possible to have returned to Odin on the _Irma_. The Prime +Minister, however, was entitled to a full and impartial report, which he +would scarcely get from Count Erskyll, on this new jewel in the Imperial +Crown. To be able to furnish that, he would have to remain until the +Midyear 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 recognizable +as such by the Empire, which was already recognizing some fairly +unlikely-looking governments. In either case, too, Aditya would make +nobody on any other planet any trouble. It wouldn't have, at least for a +long time, even if it had been left unannexed, but no planet inhabited +by Terro-humans could be trusted to remain permanently peaceful and +isolated. There is a spark of aggressive ambition in every Terro-human +people, no matter how debased, which may smoulder for centuries or even +millennia and then burst, fanned by some random wind, into flame. To +shift the metaphor slightly, the Empire could afford to leave no +unwatched pots around to boil over unexpectedly. + +Occasionally, he did warn young Erskyll of the dangers of overwork and +emotional over-involvement. Each time, the Proconsul would pour out some +tale of bickering and rivalry among the chief-freedmen of the +Managements. Citizen Khouzhik and Citizen Eschkhaffar--they were all +calling each other Citizen, now--were contesting overlapping +jurisdictions. Khouzhik wanted to change the name of his Management--he +no longer bothered mentioning Sesar Martwynn--to Labor and Industry. To +this, Mykhyl Eschkhaffar objected vehemently; any Industry that was +going to be managed would be managed by his--Oraze Borztall was +similarly left unmentioned--management of Public Works. And they were +also feuding about the robotic and remote-controlled equipment that had +been sent down from the _Empress Eulalie_ to the Austragonia +nuclear-power works. + +Khouzhik was also in controversy with Yakoop Zhannar, who was already +calling himself People's Provost-Marshal. Khouzhik had taken over all +the private armed-guards on the Masterly farms and in the factories, and +assimilated them into something he was calling the People's Labor +Police, ostensibly to enforce the new Code of Employment Practice. +Zhannar insisted that they should be under his Management; when Chmidd +and Hozhet supported Khouzhik, he began clamoring for the return of the +regular army to his control. + +Commodore Shatrak was more than glad to get rid of the Adityan army, and +so was Pyairr Ravney, who was in immediate command of them. The Adityans +didn't care one way or the other. Zhannar was delighted, and so were +Chmidd and Hozhet. So, oddly, was Zhorzh Khouzhik. At the same time, the +state of martial law proclaimed on the day of the landing was +terminated. + +The days slipped by. There were entertainments at the new Proconsular +Palace for the Masterly residents of Zeggensburg, and Erskyll and his +staff were entertained at Masterly palaces. The latter affairs pained +Prince Trevannion excessively--hours on end of gorging uninspired +cooking and guzzling too-sweet wine and watching ex-slave performers +whose acts were either brutal or obscene and frequently both, and, more +unforgivable, 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 of +exploration. They fished in mountain streams, and hunted the small +deerlike game, and he found himself enjoying these excursions more than +anything he had done in recent years; certainly anything since Aditya +had come into the viewscreens of the _Empress Eulalie_. Once in a while, +they claimed and received Masterly hospitality at some large farming +estate. They were always greeted with fulsome cordiality, and there was +always surprise that persons of their rank and consequence should travel +unaccompanied by a retinue of servants. + +He found things the same wherever he stopped. None of the farms were +producing more than a quarter of the potential yield per acre, and all +depleting the soil outrageously. Ten slaves--he didn't bother to think +of them as freedmen--doing the work of one, and a hundred of them taking +all day to do what one robot would have done before noon. White-gowned +chief-slaves lording it over green and orange gowned supervisors and +clerks; overseers still carrying and frequently using whips and knouts +and sandbag flails. + +Once or twice, when a Masterly back was turned, he caught a look of +murderous hatred flickering into the eyes of some upper-slave. Once or +twice, when a Master thought his was turned, he caught the same look in +Masterly eyes, directed at him or at Lanze. + +The Midyear Feasts approached; each time he returned to the city he +found more excitement as preparations went on. Mykhyl Eschkhaffar's +Management of Public Works was giving top priority to redecorating the +Convocation Chamber and the lounges and dining-rooms around it in which +the Masters would relax during recesses. More and more Masterly families +flocked in from outlying estates, with contragravity-flotillas and +retinues of attendants, to be entertained at the city palaces. There +were more and gaudier banquets and balls and entertainments. By the time +the Feasts began, every Masterly man, woman and child would be in the +city. + +There were long columns of military contragravity coming in, too; +troop-carriers and combat-vehicles. Yakoop Zhannar was bringing in all +his newly recovered army, and Zhorzh Khouzhik his newly organized +People's Labor Police. Vann Shatrak, who was now commanding his +battle-line unit by screen from the Proconsular Palace, began fretting. + +"I wish I hadn't been in such a hurry to terminate martial rule," he +said, once. "And I wish Pyairr hadn't been so confoundedly efficient in +retraining those troops. That may cost us a few extra casualties, before +we'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 to +give more extravagant feasts. Zhannar's going to hold a review of his +troops, and of course, Khouzhik intends to hold a review of his police. +That's all there is to it." + +"Well, just the same, I wish some reenforcements would get here from +Odin," Shatrak said. + +Erskyll was busy, in the days before the Midyear Feasts, either +conferring at the Citadel with the ex-slaves who were the functional +heads of the Managements or at the Proconsular Palace with Hozhet and +Chmidd and the chief-freedmen of the influential Convocation leaders and +Presidium members. Everybody was extremely optimistic about the +constitution. + +He couldn't quite understand the optimism, himself. + +"If I were one of these Lords-Master, I wouldn't even consider the +thing," he told Erskyll. "I know, they're stupid, but I can't believe +they're stupid enough to commit suicide, and that's what this amounts +to." + +"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 in +the new constitution that will be drawn up five years from now. And that +will be the end of them. All the big estates, and the factories and +mines and contragravity-ship lines will be nationalized." + +"And they'll have nothing at all, except a hamper-full of repudiated +paper stellies," he finished. "That's what I mean. What makes you think +they'll be willing to vote for that?" + +"They don't know they're voting for it. They'll think they're voting to +keep control of the Mastership. People like Olvir Nikkolon and Rovard +Javasan and Ranal Valdry and Sesar Martwynn think they still own their +chief-freedmen; they think Hozhet and Chmidd and Zhannar and Khouzhik +will do exactly what they tell them. And they believe anything the +Hozhets and Chmidds and Zhannars tell them. And every chief-freedman is +telling his Lord-Employer that the only way they can keep control is by +adopting the constitution; that they can control the elections on their +estates, 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 into +radio-range, five light-hours away, and began transmitting in taped +matter at sixty-speed. Erskyll's report and his own acknowledged; a +routine "well done" for the successful annexation. Commendation for +Shatrak's handling of the landing operation. Orders to take over +Aditya-_Alif_ and begin construction of a permanent naval base. +Notification of promotion to base-admiral, and blank commission as +line-commodore; that would be Patrique Morvill. And advice that one +transport-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. And +Beelzebub only knows what'll be going on here then." + + * * * * * + +Four times, the big screen failed to respond. They were all crowded +into one of the executive conference-rooms at the Proconsular Palace, +the batteries of communication and recording equipment incongruously +functional among the gold-encrusted luxury of the original Masterly +furnishings. Shatrak swore. + +"Andrey, I thought your people had planted those pickups where they +couldn't be found," he said to Commander Douvrin. + +"There is no such place, sir," the intelligence officer replied. "Just +places where things are hard to find." + +"Did you mention our pickups to Chmidd or Hozhet or any of the rest of +the shaveheads?" Shatrak asked Erskyll. + +"No. I didn't even know where they were. And it was the freedmen who +found them," Erskyll said. "I don't know why they wouldn't want us +looking in." + +Lanze Degbrend, at the screen, twisted the dial again, and this time the +screen flickered and cleared, and they were looking into the Convocation +Chamber from the extreme rear, above the double doors. Far away, in +front, Olvir Nikkolon was rising behind the gold and onyx bench, and +from the speaker the call bell tolled slowly, and the buzz of over two +thousand whispering voices diminished. Nikkolon began to speak: + +"Seven and a half centuries ago, our fathers went forth from Morglay to +plant upon this planet a new banner...." + +It was evidently a set speech, one he had recited year after year, and +every Lord Chairman of the Presidium before him. The splendid +traditions. The glories of the Masterly race. The all-conquering Space +Vikings. The proud heritage of the Sword-Worlds. Lanze was fiddling with +the control knobs, stepping up magnification and focusing on the +speaker's head and shoulders. Then everybody laughed; Nikkolon had a +small plug in one ear, with a fine wire running down to vanish under his +collar. Degbrend brought back the full view of the Convocation Chamber. + +Nikkolon went on and on. Vann Shatrak summoned a robot to furnish him +with a cold beer and another cigar. Erskyll was drumming an impatient +devil's tattoo with his fingernails on the gold-encrusted table in front +of him. Lanze Degbrend began interpolating sarcastic comments. And +finally, Pyairr Ravney, who came from Lugaluru, reverted to the idiom of +his planet's favorite sport: + +"Come on, come on; turn out the bull! What's the matter, is the gate +stuck?" + +If so, it came quickly unstuck, and the bull emerged, pawing and +snorting. + +"This year, other conquerors have come to Aditya, here to plant another +banner, the Sun and Cogwheel of the Galactic Empire, and I blush to say +it, we are as helpless against these conquerors as were the miserable +barbarians and their wretched serfs whom our fathers conquered seven +hundred and sixty-two years ago, whose descendants, until this black +day, had been our slaves." + +He continued, his voice growing more impassioned and more belligerent. +Count Erskyll fidgeted. This wasn't the way the Chmidd-Hozhet +Constitution ought to be introduced. + +"So, perforce, we accepted the sovereignty of this alien Empire. We are +now the subjects of his Imperial Majesty, Rodrik III. We must govern +Aditya subject to the Imperial Constitution." (Groans, boos; catcalls, +if the Adityan equivalent of cats made noises like that.) "At one +stroke, this Constitution has abolished our peculiar institution, upon +which is based our entire social structure. This I know. But this same +Imperial Constitution is a collapsium-strong shielding; let me call your +attention to Article One, Section Two: _Every Empire planet shall be +self-governed as to its own affairs, in the manner of its own choice and +without interference._ Mark this well, for it is our guarantee that this +government, of the Masters, by the Masters, and for the Masters, shall +not 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 the +sole purpose of accomplishing the liquidation of the Masterly class and +race. They have endeavored to force this planetary constitution upon us +by threats of force, and by a shameful attempt to pervert the fidelity +of our chief-slaves--I will not insult these loyal servitors with this +disgusting new name, freedmen--so that we might, a second time, be +tricked into voting assent to our own undoing. But in this, they have +failed. Our chief-slaves have warned us of the trap concealed in this +constitution written by the Proconsul, Count Erskyll. My faithful Tchall +Hozhet has shown me all the pitfalls in this infamous document...." + +Obray, Count Erskyll, was staring in dismay at the screen. Then he began +cursing blasphemously, the first time he had ever been heard to do so, +and, as he was at least nominally a Pantheist, this meant blaspheming +the entire infinite universe. + +"The rats! The dirty treacherous rats! We came here to help them, and +look; they've betrayed us...!" He lost his voice in a wheezing sob, and +then 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 sure +of that. Even from the beginning, they had found it impossible to +disguise their contempt.... + +Then he saw Olvir Nikkolon stop short and thrust out his arm, pointing +directly below the pickup, and as he watched, something green-gray, a +remote-control contragravity lorry, came floating into the field of the +screen. One of the vehicles that had been sent down from the _Empress +Eulalie_ for use at the uranium mines. As it lifted and advanced toward +the center of the room, the other Lords-Master were springing to their +feet. + +[Illustration] + +Vann Shatrak also sprang to his feet, reaching the controls of the +screen and cutting the sound. He was just in time to save them from +being, at least temporarily, deafened, for no sooner had he silenced the +speaker 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 and +bits of plastiboard still falling from above. The gold and onyx bench +was broken in a number of places; the Chiefs of Management in front of +it, and the Presidium above, had vanished. Among the benches lay +black-clad bodies, a few still moving. Smoke rose from burning clothing. +Admiral Shatrak put on the sound again; from the screen came screams and +cries of pain and fright. + +Then the doors on the two long sides opened, and red-brown uniforms +appeared. The soldiers advanced into the Chamber, unslinging rifles and +submachine guns. Unheeding the still falling plaster, they moved +forward, firing as they came. A few of them slung their firearms and +picked up Masterly dress swords, using them to finish the wounded among +the benches. The screams grew fewer, and then stopped. + +Count Erskyll sat frozen, staring white-faced and horror-sick into the +screen. Some of the others had begun to recover and were babbling +excitedly. Vann Shatrak was at a communication-screen, talking to +Commodore Patrique Morvill, aboard the _Empress Eulalie_: + +"All the Landing-Troops, and all the crewmen you can spare and arm. And +every vehicle you have. This is only the start of it; there'll be a +general massacre of Masters next. I don't doubt it's started already." + +At another screen, Pyairr Ravney was saying, to the officer of the day +of the Palace Guard: "No, there's no telling what they'll do next. +Whatever it is, be ready for it ten minutes ago." + +He stubbed out his cigarette and rose, and as he did, Erskyll came out +of his daze and onto his feet. + +"Commodore Shatrak! I mean, Admiral," he corrected himself. "We must +re-impose martial rule. I wish I'd never talked you into terminating it. +Look at that!" He pointed at the screen; big dump-lorries were already +coming in the doors under the pickup, with a mob of gowned civil-service +people crowding in under them. They and the soldiers began dragging +bodies out from among the seats to be loaded and hauled away. "There's +the planetary government, murdered to the last man!" + +"I'm afraid we can't do anything like that," he said. "This seems to be +a simple transfer of power by _coup-d'etat_; rather more extreme than +usual, but normal political practice on this sort of planet. The Empire +has no right to interfere." + +Erskyll turned on him indignantly. "But it's mass murder!" + +"It's an accomplished fact. Whoever ordered this, Citizen Chmidd and +Citizen Hozhet and Citizen Zhannar and the rest of your good democratic +citizens, are now the planetary government of Aditya. As long as they +don't attack us, or repudiate the sovereignty of the Emperor, you'll +have to recognize them as such." + +"A bloody-handed gang of murderers; recognize them?" + +"All governments have a little blood here and there on their hands; +you've seen this by screen instead of reading about it in a history +book, but that shouldn't make any difference. And you've said, +yourself, that the Masters would have to be eliminated. You've told +Chmidd and Hozhet and the others that, repeatedly. Of course, you meant +legally, by constitutional and democratic means, but that seemed just a +bit too tedious to them. They had them all together in one room, where +they could be eliminated easily, and ... Lanze; see if you can get +anything on the Citadel telecast." + +Degbrend put on another communication-screen and fiddled for a moment. +What came on was a view, from another angle, of the Convocation Chamber. +A voice was saying: + +"... not one left alive. The People's Labor Police, acting on orders of +People's Manager of Labor Zhorzh Khouzhik and People's Provost-Marshal +Yakoop Zhannar, are now eliminating the rest of the ci-devant Masterly +class, all of whom are here in Zeggensburg. The people are directed to +cooperate; kill them all, men, women and children. We must allow none of +these foul exploiters of the people live to see today's sun go down...." + +"You mean, we sit here while those animals butcher women and children?" +Shatrak demanded, looking from the Proconsul to the Ministerial +Secretary. "Well, by Ghu, I won't! If I have to face a court for it, all +well and good, but...." + +"You won't, Admiral. I seem to recall, some years ago, a Commodore +Hastings, who got a baronetcy for stopping a pogrom on Anath...." + +"And broadcast an announcement that any of the Masterly class may find +asylum here at the Proconsular Palace. They're political fugitives; +scores of precedents for that," Erskyll added. + +Shatrak was back at the screen to the _Empress Eulalie_. + +"Patrique, get a jam-beam focussed on that telecast station at the +Citadel; get it off the air. Then broadcast on the same wavelength; +announce that anybody claiming sanctuary at the Proconsular Palace will +be taken in and protected. And start getting troops down, and all the +spacemen you can spare." + +At the same time, Ravney was saying, into his own screen: + +"Plan Four. Variation H-3; this is a rescue operation. This is not, +repeat, underscore, _not_ an intervention in planetary government. You +are to protect members of the Masterly class in danger from mob +violence. That's anybody with hair on his head. Stay away from the +Citadel; the ones there are all dead. Start with the four buildings +closest to us, and get them cleared out. If the shaveheads give you any +trouble, don't argue with them, just shoot them...." + +Erskyll, after his brief moment of decisiveness, was staring at the +screen to the Convocation Chamber, where bodies were still being heaved +into the lorries like black sacks of grain. Lanze Degbrend summoned a +robot, had it pour a highball, and gave it to the Proconsul. + +"Go ahead, Count Erskyll; drink it down. Medicinal," he was saying. +"Believe me you certainly need it." + +Erskyll gulped it down. "I think I could use another, if you please," he +said, handing the glass back to Lanze. "And a cigarette." After he had +tasted his second drink and puffed on the cigarette, he said: "I was so +proud. I thought they were learning democracy." + +"We don't, any of us, have too much to be proud about," Degbrend told +him. "They must have been planning and preparing this for a couple of +months, and we never caught a whisper of it." + +That was correct. They had deluded Erskyll into thinking that they were +going to let the Masters vote themselves out of power and set up a +representative government. They had deluded the Masters into believing +that they were in favor of the _status quo_, and opposed to Erkyll's +democratization and socialization. There must be only a few of them in +the conspiracy. Chmidd and Hozhet and Zhannar and Khouzhik and Schferts +and the rest of the Citadel chief-slave clique. Among them, they +controlled all the armed force. The bickering and rivalries must have +been part of the camouflage. He supposed that a few of the upper army +commanders had been in on it, too. + +A communication-screen began making noises. Somebody flipped the switch, +and Khreggor Chmidd appeared in it. Erskyll swore softly, and went to +face the screen-image of the elephantine ex-slave of the ex-Lord Master, +the late Rovard Javasan. + +"Citizen Proconsul; why is our telecast station, which is vitally needed +to give information to the people, jammed off the air, and why are you +broadcasting, on our wavelength, advice to the criminals of the +ci-devant Masterly class to take refuge in your Proconsular Palace from +the just vengeance of the outraged victims of their century-long +exploitation?" he began. "This is a flagrant violation of the Imperial +Constitution; our Emperor will not be pleased at this unjustified +intervention in the affairs, and this interference with the planetary +authority, of the People's Commonwealth of Aditya!" + +Obray of Erskyll must have realized, for the first time, that he was +still holding a highball glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. +He flung both of them away. + +"If the Imperial troops we are sending into the city to rescue women and +children in danger from your hoodlums meet with the least resistance, +you won't be in a position to find out what his Majesty thinks about it, +because Admiral Shatrak will have you and your accomplices shot in the +Convocation Chamber, where you massacred the legitimate government of +this planet," he barked. + +So the real Obray, Count Erskyll, had at last emerged. All the +liberalism and socialism and egalitarianism, all the Helping-Hand, +Torch-of-Democracy, idealism, was merely a surface stucco applied at the +university during the last six years. For twenty-four years before that, +from the day of his birth, he had been taught, by his parents, his +nurse, his governess, his tutors, what it meant to be an Erskyll of Aton +and a grandson of Errol, Duke of Yorvoy. As he watched Khreggor Chmidd +in the screen, he grew angrier, if possible. + +"Do you know what you blood-thirsty imbeciles have done?" he demanded. +"You have just murdered, along with two thousand men, some five billion +crowns, the money needed to finance all these fine modernization and +industrialization plans. Or are you crazy enough to think that the +Empire is going to indemnify you for being emancipated and pay that +money over to you?" + +"But, Citizen Proconsul...." + +"And don't call me Citizen Proconsul! I am a noble of the Galactic +Empire, and on this pigpen of a planet I represent his Imperial Majesty. +You will respect, and address, me accordingly." + +Khreggor Chmidd no longer wore the gorget of servility, but, as Lanze +Degbrend had once remarked, it was still tattooed on his soul. He +gulped. + +"Y-yes, Lord-Master Proconsul!" + +They were together again in the big conference-room, which Vann Shatrak +had been using, through the day, as an extemporised Battle-Control. They +slumped wearily in chairs; they smoked and drank coffee; they anxiously +looked from viewscreen to viewscreen, wondering when, and how soon, the +trouble would break out again. It was dark, outside, now. Floodlights +threw a white dazzle from the top of the Proconsular Palace and from the +tops of the four buildings around it that Imperial troops had cleared +and occupied, and from contragravity vehicles above. There was light and +activity at the Citadel, and in the Servile City to the south-east; the +rest of Zeggensburg was dark and quiet. + +"I don't think we'll have any more trouble," Admiral Shatrak was saying. +"They won't be fools enough to attack us here, and all the Masters are +dead, except for the ones we're sheltering." + +"How many did we save?" Count Erskyll asked. + +Eight hundred odd, Shatrak told him. Erskyll caught his breath. + +"So few! Why, there were almost twelve thousand of them in the city this +morning." + +"I'm surprised we saved so many," Lanze Degbrend said. He still wore +combat coveralls, and a pistol-belt lay beside his chair. "Most of them +were killed in the first hour." + +And that had been before the landing-craft from the ships had gotten +down, and there had only been seven hundred men and forty vehicles +available. He had gone out with them, himself; it had been the first +time he had worn battle-dress and helmet or carried a weapon except for +sport in almost thirty years. It had been an ugly, bloody, business; one +he wanted to forget as speedily as possible. There had been times, after +seeing the mutilated bodies of Masterly women and children, when he had +been forced to remind himself that he had come out to prevent, not to +participate in, a massacre. Some of Ravney's men hadn't even tried. +Atrocity has a horrible facility for begetting atrocity. + +"What'll we do with them?" Erskyll asked. "We can't turn them loose; +they'd all be murdered in a matter of hours, and in any case, they'd +have nowhere to go. The Commonwealth,"--he pronounced the name he had +himself selected as though it were an obscenity--"has nationalized all +the Masterly property." + +That had been announced almost as soon as the Citadel telecast-station +had been unjammed, and shortly thereafter they had begun encountering +bodies of Yakoop Zhannar's soldiers and Zhorzh Khouzhik's police who had +been sent out to stop looting and vandalism and occupy the Masterly +palaces. There had been considerable shooting in the Servile City; +evidently the ex-slaves had to be convinced that they must not pillage +or destroy their places of employment. + +"Evacuate them off-planet," Shatrak said. "As soon as _Algol_ gets here, +we'll load the lot of them onto _Mizar_ or _Canopus_ and haul them +somewhere. Ghu only knows how they'll live, but...." + +"Oh, they won't be paupers, or public charges, Admiral," he said. "You +know, there's an estimated five billion crowns in slave-compensation, +and when I return to Odin I shall represent most strongly that these +survivors be paid the whole sum. But I shall emphatically not recommend +that they be resettled on Odin. They won't be at all grateful to us for +today's business, and on Odin they could easily stir up some very +adverse public sentiment." + +"My resignation will answer any criticism of the Establishment the +public may make," Erskyll began. + +"Oh, rubbish; don't talk about resigning, Obray. You made a few mistakes +here, though I can't think of a better planet in the Galaxy on which you +could have made them. But no matter what you did or did not do, this +would have happened eventually." + +"You really think so?" Obray, Count Erskyll, was desperately anxious to +be assured of that. "Perhaps if I hadn't been so insistent on this +constitution...." + +"That wouldn't have made a particle of difference. We all made this +inevitable simply by coming here. Before we came, it would have been +impossible. No slave would have been able even to imagine a society +without Lords-Master; you heard Chmidd and Hozhet, the first day, aboard +the _Empress Eulalie_. A slave had to have a Master; he simply couldn't +belong to nobody at all. And until you started talking socialization, +nobody could have imagined property without a Masterly property-owning +class. And a massacre like this would have been impossible to organize +or execute. For one thing, it required an elaborate conspiratorial +organization, and until we emancipated them, no slave would have dared +trust any other slave; every one would have betrayed any other to curry +favor with his Lord-Master. We taught them that they didn't need +Lords-Master, or Masterly favor, any more. And we presented them with a +situation their established routines didn't cover, and forced them into +doing some original thinking, which must have hurt like Nifflheim at +first. And we retrained the army and handed it over to Yakoop Zhannar, +and inspired Zhorzh Khouzhik to organize the Labor Police, and +fundamentally, no government is anything but armed force. Really, Obray, +I can't see that you can be blamed for anything but speeding up an +inevitable process slightly." + +"You think they'll see it that way at Asgard?" + +"You mean the Prime Minister and His Majesty? That will be the way I +shall present it to them. That was another reason I wanted to stay on +here. I anticipated that you might want a credible witness to what was +going to happen," he said. "Now, you'll be here for not more than five +years before you're promoted elsewhere. Nobody remains longer than that +on a first Proconsular appointment. Just keep your eyes and ears and, +especially, your mind, open while you are here. You will learn many +things undreamed-of by the political-science faculty at the University +of Nefertiti." + +"You said I made mistakes," Erskyll mentioned, ready to start learning +immediately. + +"Yes. I pointed one of them out to you some time ago: emotional +involvement with local groups. You began sympathizing with the servile +class here almost immediately. I don't think either of us learned +anything about them that the other didn't, yet I found them despicable, +one and all. Why did you think them worthy of your sympathy?" + +"Why, because...." For a moment, that was as far as he could get. His +motivation had been thalamic rather than cortical and he was having +trouble externalizing it verbally. "They were _slaves_. They were being +exploited and oppressed...." + +"And, of course, their exploiters were a lot of heartless villains, so +that made the slaves good and virtuous innocents. That was your real, +fundamental, mistake. You know, Obray, the downtrodden and +long-suffering proletariat aren't at all good or innocent or virtuous. +They are just incompetent; they lack the abilities necessary for overt +villainy. You saw, this afternoon, what they were capable of doing when +they were given an opportunity. You know, it's quite all right to give +the underdog a hand, but only one hand. Keep the other hand on your +pistol--or he'll try to eat the one you gave him! As you may have +noticed, today, when underdogs get up, they tend to turn out to be +wolves." + +"What do you think this Commonwealth will develop into, under Chmidd and +Hozhet and Khouzhik and the rest?" Lanze Degbrend asked, to keep the +lecture going. + +"Oh, a slave-state, of course; look who's running it, and whom it will +govern. Not the kind of a slave-state we can do anything about," he +hastened to add. "The Commonwealth will be very definite about +recognizing that sapient beings cannot be property. But all the rest of +the property will belong to the Commonwealth. Remember that remark of +Chmidd's: 'It will belong to everybody, but somebody will have to take +care of it for everybody. That will be you and me.'" + +Erskyll frowned. "I remember that. I didn't like it, at the time. It +sounded...." + +Out of character, for a good and virtuous proletarian; almost Masterly, +in fact. He continued: + +"The Commonwealth will be sole employer as well as sole property-owner, +and anybody who wants to eat will have to work for the Commonwealth on +the Commonwealth's terms. Chmidd's and Hozhet's and Khouzhik's, that is. +If that isn't substitution of peonage for chattel slavery, I don't know +what the word peonage means. But you'll do nothing to interfere. You +will see to it that Aditya stays in the empire and adheres to the +Constitution and makes no trouble for anybody off-planet. I fancy you +won't find that too difficult. They'll be good, as long as you deny them +the means to be anything else. And make sure that they continue to call +you Lord-Master Proconsul." + +Lecturing, he found, was dry work. He summoned a bartending robot: + +"Ho, slave! Attend your Lord-Master!" + +Then he had to use his ultraviolet pencil-light to bring it to him, and +dial for the brandy-and-soda he wanted. As long as that was necessary, +there really wasn't anything to worry about. But some of these days, +they'd build robots that would anticipate orders, and robots to operate +robots, and robots to supervise them, and.... + +No. It wouldn't quite come to that. A slave is a slave, but a robot is +only a robot. As long as they stuck to robots, they were reasonably +safe. + ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ +| Errata | +| | +| The following typographical errors were corrected. | +| | +| |Page |Error |Correction | | +| |4 |Terrohuman |Terro-human | | +| |10 |present; |present, | | +| |19 |tessallated |tessellated | | +| |28 |announcemnet |announcement | | +| |28 |intransigeant |intransigent | | +| |36 |tattoed |tattooed | | +| |37 |salutory |salutary | | +| |41 |constituion |constitution | | +| |43 |belligerant |belligerent | | +| | ++--------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Slave is a Slave, by Henry Beam Piper + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SLAVE IS A SLAVE *** + +***** This file should be named 20726.txt or 20726.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/2/20726/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, LN Yaddanapudi and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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