The Chieftain Read online

  “You are a slave,” he said.

  “No,” she cried.

  “I have learned in the school,” he said, “how to look upon a woman, and tell if she is a slave or not.”

  “And I am one such, a slave?” she said, angrily.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Begone!” she wept.

  He stepped back, and bowed. “Yes, milady,” said he.

  “What is the contest tomorrow evening?” she demanded.

  “Its nature, until the moment,” said he, “is to remain confidential.”

  “Are you to be involved?” she asked.

  “That is my understanding, if it is necessary,” he said.

  “I see,” she said.

  “Is it milady’s intention to attend?” he asked.

  “Certainly not,” she said.

  “Good night, milady,” said he, bowing, and withdrawing.

  It was shortly thereafter that the captain chanced by, in the very corridor in which was the large observation port, that before which the last recounted events took place. The officer of the court stood by the port, grasping the railing with one hand, with the other holding her small purse tightly against herself. She was looking out, on the silent, lateral, unsounded depths of the night, on the tiny, clustered fires, some suns, some universes themselves. She may have seemed shaken. In any event the captain paused, solicitously.

  “I am all right,” she assured the captain.

  “I passed in the corridor,” said he, “on my way, one of Pulendius’s brutes. I trust you were not accosted.”

  “No,” she said. “No!”

  How could she have been accosted? One does not accost slaves. One commands them.

  “I think it a mistake that such brutes should be allowed to roam freely,” he said.

  “Doubtless,” she laughed.

  “They should be kept in cages,” he smiled.

  “Perhaps,” she laughed.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  She had heard that female slaves were sometimes kept in cages, sometimes quite small cages.

  “I bid you a joyous evening,” said the captain.

  “Captain!” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “There is to be some sort of entertainment tomorrow evening?”

  “Entertainment?”

  “Games,” she said, “a contest?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “A contest?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “At what time and place may I inquire?”

  “It is nothing in which you would be interested, milady,” he said.

  “It is in the lower portions of the ship,” he said.

  “In the hold,” said he, “Section Nineteen, an hour after supper.”

  “I will see how I feel tomorrow evening,” she said. “If I am bored, I might look in.”

  “You should not wish to see it,” he said.

  “Oh?” she asked.

  “I am not sure you would find it appropriate,” he said.

  “Other women will attend, I trust?” she asked.

  “Doubtless,” he said.

  “I have every right to attend, do I not?” she asked.

  “Of course,” said he.

  “This is a pleasure ship, a cruise ship,” she said. “Entertainments are afforded. I have paid my passage.”

  “You are entirely welcome, of course,” said the captain.

  “Is anything wrong?”

  “No,” he said. “It is only that you are of Terennia.”

  “And what has that to do with it?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “We shall see how I feel tomorrow evening,” she said.

  The captain’s offer to escort her to her cabin was declined. She was, after all, of Terennia. Yet, to recount matters accurately we must mention that after his departure, for whatever reason, she began to tremble. She looked out, again, onto the night, and the stars, the worlds, and was afraid. She felt very small, and helpless. The ship itself, with its light, its warmth, its steel, its numerous life-support systems, did little to allay her apprehension. It would not have hurt, she thought, even though she was of Terennia, and who would know, to have had the company of the captain to her cabin. It was a long way there, through several passages, and she was clad in such a way that it was made quite clear, in spite of the teachings of Terennia, that she was not really a “same.” She looked at herself in the mirror of the portal. No, she was clearly other than a “same.” She was something else, quite different from a “same.” She then hurried to her cabin, looking about her, even stopping to peer down adjoining passages, before crossing other corridors, and then, in a little while, frightened, and breathless, for she had at times even run a little, in short, hurrying steps, the most permitted to her by the garment in which she fled, she arrived at her door. In a moment she was within, and stood on the inside of the cabin, her back against the door, the door double-locked. She was frightened, and was breathing heavily. Then she moaned, and turned about, and sank to her knees behind the door, and put her hands out, touching it, touching the steel.

  She was not a slave!

  She was safe.

  …CHAPTER 10…

  “What a dreadful outfit!” laughed one of the women on the tiers.

  The officer of the court did not deign to respond.

  “Do not be angry!” called the woman. “Come, sit here beside me!” She patted a place on the tier.

  The officer of the court smiled, and climbed to sit beside her.

  “Have I missed much?” asked the officer of the court, lightly.

  “Not at all, you are quite early,” the woman assured her.

  The performers, if one may speak of them in that fashion, had not yet entered the wooden-rimmed circle of sand which was ringed by the tiers. The room in the hold, Section 19, was a high one. One could see, above, the lofty girders, and steelwork, which the shipwrights had not been concerned to conceal in this area. In this section, one of a hundred such sections, one might have stored several tons of cargo. There was little in it now but the tiers, and, about the edges, some boxes, some escape capsules, or lifeboats, one might say, and such. Light in the section was from powerful overhead bulbs. They flooded the small ringed area with bright light. They were animated by switches near the door. Elsewhere the area was much in shadow. Presumably the performers were somewhere in the darkness, or, perhaps, in some adjoining area, waiting to enter this section. If there was to be an entertainment, it did not seem to be professionally, carefully staged, like the other entertainments, the shows, the concerts.

  “What is to be the nature of the contest?” asked the officer of the court.

  Yes, she was early. There were only a few now present.

  “I do not know,” the woman assured her. She was one of those who had been at the table with her, the captain’s table, the evening before. She was one of those who had wished her happiness, and kissed her after the supper.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, my dear,” said the woman to the officer of the court. “I am sure that your ensemble is quite appropriate for Terennia.”

  “It is the customary garb of my class,” said the officer of the court.

  “For both men and women?”

  “Yes,” she was informed.

  “I see,” said the woman, it being clear she really didn’t.

  “We are ‘sames,’ ” she was informed.

  “The men and women?” she was asked.

  “Yes,” said the officer of the court.

  “Don’t you find that silly?” asked the woman.

  The officer of the court did not choose to respond to this inquiry.

  “I’m sorry,” said the woman.

  “That is all right,” the officer of the court assured her.

  The woman who had invited the officer of the court to join her on the tiers was now dressed not in the gown of the preceding evening, fit
for the honor of the captain’s table, but in something more appropriate for attendance at a contest, in a well-tailored pantsuit.

  “It is very different,” said the woman, “from the way you were dressed last night.”

  That was true. A world of difference separated the sleek, white, off-the-shoulder sheath, purchased in a ship’s shop, which the officer of the court had dared to wear yesterday, from the version of Terennian “same garb,” which she wore this evening. “Same garb” was designed to conceal sexual differences. There were many ways in which to attempt this, none of which was entirely successful. The officer of the court now wore, however, a fairly common form of “same garb,” an intentionally bulky, formless, sacklike one-piece garment. It covered her completely from the neck to the ankles. It had legs. It was a sort of gray overall. In addition, she wore the “frame-and-curtain.” From a projecting rectangular extension, the frame, put about the neck, there dangled, to the sides, and in front and back, an opaque, cloaklike attachment, the “curtain.” The intention of this device was to conceal the delightful curves and smallness of her shoulders, and the revelatory, indicative excitements of her figure, both anterior and posterior. Uniformity was highly valued on Terennia, of thought, behavior and sexuality.

  “Pulendius will doubtless be here,” said the officer of the court, offhandedly.

  “And the handsome brutes with him,” said the woman with her.

  The officer of the court stiffened. She had, of course, not been herself particularly interested in Pulendius. Irritatedly, she realized, too, that the woman beside her had understood her, only too well. She was embarrassed.

  It might be mentioned at this point that although the officer of the court wore “same garb,” she also wore, beneath it, now, as of today, certain other garments, purchased in one of the ship’s shops, which were quite uncharacteristic of Terennia, but of such things, more anon.

  These new undergarments were, of course, her carefully guarded secret. She felt she might die of mortification, if such things were known.

  “Did you see how the one fellow, he on the right of Pulendius, looked at you?” asked the woman.

  “You saw?” asked the officer of the court, pleased. It had not then been her imagination. Of course, she had known it had not been. Still, it was pleasant to have this confirmation. Too, she was pleased, though she was not eager to admit it, that another woman had noticed her being the object of such regard. That flattered her vanity, for she, like other women, was not without her vanity. It had been she on whom he had been looking.

  “Of course,” said the woman.

  “Oh?” asked the officer of the court, who, we must confess, was eager to hear more.

  The woman with whom she was in converse was now only too well aware of her interest.

  “And how he looked upon you!” she whispered.

  “How was that?” asked the officer of the court, pressing her.

  How warm she suddenly felt in those new undergarments, hidden under her “same garb.”

  “Do not even ask, my dear,” said the woman in the pantsuit, pretending to abandon the conversation.

  “No, please speak,” said the officer of the court. “I want to know.”

  “You are sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you are of the blood, my dear,” said the woman, “and we all look up to you and admire you for it, but he looked upon you as though you might be, in reality, properly understood, no more than a common slave.”

  “I see,” said the officer of the court.

  “No offense,” said the woman.

  “Of course not,” said the officer of the court.

  “I wish that he had looked upon me in that way,” laughed the woman in the pantsuit.

  “I am not a slave,” said the officer of the court, angrily.

  “We are all, at the bottom, slaves,” said the woman.

  “No,” said the officer of the court.

  “Surely you have sometimes wondered about your value as a woman, what price you would bring?”

  The officer of the court was angry, silent. It was true that she had sometimes, in her loneliness, and misery, and frustration, and need, wondered if she had any real value, and what men, under no duress, would be willing to pay for her, if anything. Many times, in her imagination, she had turned upon the illuminated slave block, the faces of the men much hidden in the darkness, and heard the cries of the auctioneer, selling her.

  “He is like a barbarian god,” she said.

  “He is a large fellow, and of reasonably symmetrical features,” she said.

  “Was he not the sort of man before whom a woman would quake, and hasten to obey?”

  “Not a true woman,” said the officer of the court.

  “Those whom you call ‘true women,’ ” she said, “are merely women who have not yet met their master.”

  “Nonsense,” said the officer of the court.

  But she knew that it was true.

  “Cannot you imagine what it might be to belong to him, really?” asked the woman.

  “Not at all,” said the officer of the court.

  “I suspect you can,” said the other woman, squeezing her hand.

  “No,” said the officer of the court, firmly.

  “I think you would obey him,” she said.

  “No,” said the officer of the court.

  “I think a taste of the whip would soon change your mind,” said the woman, smiling.

  The officer of the court swallowed hard, and looked down. She had, you see, little doubt but what she would do her best to obey, and be fully pleasing, and that the whip, really, would not be in the least needed. That it was there, and that she knew it would be used, if he were not pleased, if she needed any additional incentive, would be quite enough, indeed, more than enough.

  The tiers were now muchly filled. The entertainment was soon to begin.

  “And what do you think you would bring?” asked the officer of the court, angrily.

  “I do not know, my dear,” said the woman. “I hope a good price.”

  “I see,” said the officer of the court.

  “It would not be so high as that which you would fetch, however, my dear,” she said, “for you are very beautiful.”

  The officer of the court looked at the other woman, who was perhaps in her forties. She was clearly educated. She had striking features and was well figured. The officer of the court wondered if that woman might not bring a higher price than she. That woman, in any event, was not from Terennia. That might make a difference in the prices they would bring. Women from Terennia, the officer of the court speculated, might be thought to be poor stuff, little more than jokes in the slave markets. On the other hand, she was not prepared to admit this. Surely women of Terennia, if so unfortunate as to fall slave, if that horrifying fate were to befall them, might be taught, as well as others. Might they not, in time, with diligence, come to take their place in the markets, even among the most precious of slaves?

  “Look,” said the companion of the officer of the court.

  The captain and his first officer, with some other officers, had just entered.

  “May I join you?” asked one of the minor officers, looking up from the floor.

  “Please do,” said the companion of the officer of the court.

  Seats were scarce. Some had been reserved below, of course, at the side of the ring, in this case, opposite the door to the section. The captain and the first officer, and certain other officers, were seated there, and some of these seats, too, had been left empty, apparently to be filled later. It might be mentioned that the officer of the court and her friend were not far from these privileged seats. They had come rather early to the entertainment, it may be recalled. They thus had much their pick of seating arrangements.

  The officer took his seat to the right of the companion of the officer of the court, thus away from the officer of the court. He did this, rather than sit between the ladies, as might otherwi
se have been expected, for one of them was of Terennia, and the women of Terennia, being “sames,” or supposedly so, tend to be uncomfortable in the presence of males, and, accordingly, tend to shun their proximity.

  Shortly thereafter the lights began to dim.

  “It is beginning!” said the companion of the officer of the court.

  …CHAPTER 11…

  The lights had continued to dim until the section of the hold was in total darkness, and then, after a moment, they came on again, suddenly.

  In the ring now, on the sand, to one side, rather toward the door, there knelt a large, bearded man. His long hair, which behind him fell to his waist, was bound back with a fillet of leather. He wore a tunic of roughly sewn skins. He was heavily chained, hand and foot.

  The women in the crowd, at the first sight of him, gasped, drawing back.

  “He is clad as a barbarian,” said the woman who had invited the officer of the court to sit with her, to the minor officer.

  “He is a barbarian,” said the officer. “He was taken on Tinos.”

  On either side of the kneeling figure, standing, were two guards, armed not with stun sticks but fire pistols. There are several varieties of such weapons. They are commonly a sidearm of imperial officers. A common form of fire pistol, and that which the guards carried, held ten reduced, controlled charges, each emitting a narrow, bright, quarter-second beam. In this fashion the beam, in the moment of its activation, might breach materials such as wood or flesh, but could do little more than scorch and disfigure metal. This was important within a carefully regulated environment, that, say, of a ship in space. Weapons in the empire, as I have earlier indicated, were carefully controlled, and this policy was one of the reasons, doubtless, for the general security of its authority. Within the empire the manufacture of such weapons was an imperial monopoly. Indeed, even within the empire primitive weapons, clubs, staffs, pointed, edged weapons, and such, were far more common than technologically sophisticated weapons. Indeed, many in the empire knew only such weapons. Some imperial troops, as a matter of fact, had been, for most practical purposes, reduced to the use of such weapons, they being supplemented, of course, to some extent by more powerful devices. Certain forms of energy within the empire were, statistically, quite rare, many sources having been exhausted centuries ago. This was the case on literally thousands of worlds. These facts, however, must not obscure the fact that the empire still had at its disposal weapons capable of dislodging planets from orbits, even of pulverizing them into miniscule, radiating debris.