Chapter 49

In the green and naphthalene reeking ship-halls
of the Korozhet slave-ship.

Chip knew that it was bound to end, sooner or later. He could stay in here until he starved or the slave supervisors came to haul him out.

He'd yet to find any way of killing himself in this room. Besides, the soft-cyber in his head said that would be a disservice to the masters. So: he waited. When the time came he would find a way. The slaves were apparently supervised by low-order young Korozhets, small, short-spined and very orange. Neuters and males, according to Yetteth. They were neither very intelligent nor very strong. They tended to use aliens that the other prisoners called Nerba as brute force. Your mind would let you resist Nerba. Your body was ill-advised to. They looked like armored bipedal water buffalo, with too many joined limbs and long mobile tails which split into a two-fingered "hand."

There was no way of telling night from day here in the vast bowels of the Korozhet ship, but Chip kept count of the food sirens. It was just after the seventh one that a Korozhet supervisor came for him, with two Nerba to carry him if need be. "Come," ordered the Korozhet. "Medium-spine Natt is to interrogate you."

He got up from the sleeping shelf to walk. A lash of some kind snaked across his naked back. "Walk lower. It is not fitting that you stand taller than even a First-instar, slave."

He hunched his shoulders and bent his legs and walked as slowly as he thought he could get away with. His eyes darted around looking for a death-chance. He waited too long. The small orange-spined Korozhet clattered his spines with impatience. "Pick him up, Nerba. Do not break his shell. We will go through the power section and save me much ambulating."

Chip found himself carried through a section of the ship where the air smelled distinctly of hot metal, even above the naphthalene reek. Much of the machinery was so alien he could not even begin to recognize it. But one piece he did. The last time he'd seen one, a fountain of sparks had been showering from it.

At a guess that was a force-field generator, near as dammit identical to the one in the brood-heart of the scorpiary.

Chip was eventually tossed down in front of a slightly redder and longer-spined Korozhet, sitting in a shallow waterbath.

Chip was planning to lie as much as he could. He'd just never realized quite what an effort defying the Korozhet and the soft-cyber had been for Ginny.

The medium-spine asked questions. Chip answered. He could hate the Crotchets, but to refuse to answer a direct question—from a Korozhet, in Korozhet—that was near impossible. And he was struggling to think fast enough to come up with evasive answers. At length the medium-spine started to clatter his spines. "Call Third-instar Clattat. This must be heard by him. The slaves rebel!"

The small, orange short-spined one raised his killing spines. Chip desperately wanted to dodge, but felt that would not be serving the master. "We kill any slave who rebels," said the small Korozhet.

"Unfit-to-spawn one! It is not this slave that rebels. It is the others. I have been instructed to hand this one intact to Sixth-instar Tirritit."

So, soon, Chip found himself being questioned by a larger Korozhet. When this one asked if the rats and bats could disobey, Chip had to answer in the affirmative.

"A direct order?"

"Yes"

"How do they do this?" demanded the Korozhet inquisitor.

Chip struggled to defend his friends. They found cover in the English language. He found refuge in Doc. "It is possible with the use of Plato's forms."

The last two words were English. And that too came to his rescue.

"How does this Platoforms tool work?"

"I do not know. I do not understand it." That was true.

"Is it used by all?"

"No."

"Will it be used by humans on the soft-cyber?"

"It is a human thing. It was done to one rat as an experiment." That was true.

"But there are many of these slaves who broke their conditioning!" said the Second-instar.

Perhaps he could make them afraid? Fluff had tried to stop the Korozhet shooting Virginia by clinging to the laser. "One attacked the weapon of the Korozhet," volunteered Chip.

The resultant clattering of spines and reek of naphthalene was almost overwhelming. The Third-instar Clattat spined away hastily to seek an interview with the High-spine.

"What do we do with this slave?" asked the small orange Korozhet. "Are we to kill him because he rebelled? Any slave that rebels must die."

"Soft-spined sexless it, that will never even become male. He has not rebelled, as I said. Send him back to his quarters. You heard the Third-instar. He is wanted in good condition."

Yetteth was once again on cleaning duties for the High-spines when a Third-instar dared to come clattering in, and interrupted. Yetteth had seen a Fourth-instar killed for less. "Most High-spine. I have news of slave revolts among the implants we have placed among the humans."

That was enough to lower the dart-spines on the Deep-Purple Tenth-instar High-spine.

"Speak. Revolts? How is this possible? There is sometimes a rare malfunction or a slave of great will who overcomes some of the programming. But it is a rare thing. Our statisticians tell us that it is unlikely in low-order uplift minds in a proportion of less than one in twenty million."

"The humans have a device they call a Platosforms which enabled all of the slaves to rebel."

The High-spine clattered her spines. "This is ascertained? I have worrying reports here that the human media are attacking us, too. Accusing us of supplying both the Magh' and themselves."

"But that is correct, High-spine."

"It is not fitting that a putative subject species be aware of this. Besides this tool might somehow be brought into the ship, or affect the slaves on the ship."

Another one of the High-spines clattered. "The lock detectors do not exclude and incinerate implanted slaves. We could have these rebel slaves on our ship."

"We must begin their destruction immediately," said another. "These humans are not worth the risk of farming any further. The rewards have been great, but risk outweighs the reward."

The high-spine clattered her spines. "Agreed. We cannot take these chances. There is no greater danger to the Overphyle than rebellion of slaves. Begin the firing sequences. Contact the spawnship on the tight-beam. Tell them of this and tell them to order the Magh' advance. Send out the call for our slaves who are in the human army. The humans cannot hold the Magh' without their implanted soldier-creatures. And the soldier-creatures will come to us."

"How do we know if they are still loyal?"

"If they come, they are loyal. They outnumber the humans. And they are better killers."