Jonathan reasoned the benign aliens had taken humans from a similar gene pool. No slaves of color were in their society and with the eugenics of the slave masters it would seem most slaves had an overall sameness in appearance.

  They counted forty slaves but it was difficult as they were so similar. They assumed the number was higher. But where was the slave master? They focused on the tent but they detected neither movement nor signs the slave master was in residence.

  The transport ship was nearly in the same location. There hadn’t been any significant activity for the hour they had lain under camouflage of a big fir tree. The transport was unmanned and most of the slaves were in the completed barracks. The six needed a counsel so they backed off the ridge to the slope on the lee side.

  “Jonathan what do you think?” Terry asked.

  “I think there must be a slave master in the tent. These slaves have to have orders and only the slave masters can do that.”

  “Not all slavers have the same capability to use the implants according to Kookli,” Turk said. “And they can communicate with each other she said.”

  “So brah what we do wit da slavah?”

  “I say kill him.” Turk was pretty adamant about avenging Kookli’s loss.

  Jonathan nodded. He hated the idea of killing anyone for any reason but this was not some theoretical discussion in philosophy class. “I see no other way around that. We have to eliminate his ability to communicate with the other slavers. He may be able to contact the slavers on the space ship. But getting to him is going to be the tricky part.”

  “We don’t have much more darkness left. A couple of hours at most,” Turk pointed out.

  “Yes, but we cannot just bring Keoni and Hawk into this camp unless we know the whereabouts of the slaver. The moment he should see us he would try to communicate and we would be sunk.”

  “Utilize the old army way and crawl on our bellies?” Terry asked.

  “If it was darker in the clearing I’d say it might be worth a try but there’s too much light around the tent and the barracks and the transport,” Jonathan said.

  They were silent.

  “For right now the best decision I think is to do nothing yet.” Jonathan added, “What do we have to lose by waiting?”

  This wasn’t the reason why they were here but none could think of an alternate plan. They crawled over the ridge to once again observe the camp.

  After another half an hour the slave master came out of his tent. Though he said nothing slaves began to come out of the barracks. They formed up and Jonathan counted forty. He knew there were others in the barracks but guessed there could not be more than twenty slaves unobserved. He was sure the rest were workers and they had to sleep sometime.

  Two more humans emerged from the tent. They strode up to the slave master. And spoke in English! Their conversation carried quite well in the early morning. There was only a slight breeze from the ocean.

  “You have your orders,” said the slaver.

  The two nodded. “You sure Tarksha’s daughter will be there?”

  “She was there a few hondras, hours, ago. Before her signal ended. We need to know why her signal starts and stops,” said the slave master.

  “She is probably in the company of these humans. What if they resist?”

  “Kill the ones who resist and yoke the other ones who look like good slave material. We will need a lot of slaves. Since we could not kill off all the humans with the asteroids we will need an army of slaves to kill the ones who survived.” The slave master paused in contemplation.

  “It will be interesting to see what kind of breeding we can achieve with the new strains.”

  “And the ones who aren’t good slave material?”

  “Kill them. Get used to it. There may be a half billion humans left on Terrferman. We cannot enslave them all but we cannot allow them to live next to us. In either case it may take years to have the society and life we deserve.”

  Jonathan found he had been holding his breath. He hadn’t wanted to miss a single word. He let out his breath slowly and began to breathe normally.

  Turk grabbed Jonathan and tapped the others. He wanted them to follow him over the ridge so they could converse.

  Turk was beside himself. “We have got to kill that bastard. All those bastards…”

  “We will Turk,” said Jonathan. “How many batteries did you give Kookli?”

  “Ah, all I had. Probably enough for another four or five hours.”

  “That’s good. She’ll probably be in Vancouver when the batteries run out.”

  “Who’s left at Busland?”

  “Just the religious folk.”

  “How many of them are there?” asked Jonathan.

  “Oh about thirty or so. At least that’s what Tony thought,” McNeill said.

  “They wouldn’t let us talk to them,” Bob said. “I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned you…”

  “Yeah, your name is poison to them. They refused to even allow Bob and me to stay and they usually tolerate us since many were passengers on the plane.”

  “How many have weapons you think?” Jonathan asked Jim.

  “A few have rifles but there can’t be much in the way of ammo for them. A few have bows and arrows and some have knives of one sort or the other. They won’t be able to put up much of a fight.”

  “Then we have to head into camp the moment the transport ship takes off…”

  “And kill that motherfuckin’ bastard…”

  “Yes, Turk and kill the slaver. We’ll go by our original plan. We’ll escort Keoni and Hawk. But you two have to act like you’re hurt. Otherwise no one would believe that the four of us could bring you in.”

  “And you’ll still carry the ray guns?” Hawk asked.

  “Hmm, good point. No, since you’ll be doubled over why don’t each of you carry a ray gun concealed. If anything should go wrong you’d have the best chance to get a shot off quickly. Quicker than the ones hooked to our belts at any rate.”

  Sunrise was approaching.

  CHAPTER TWO

  They watched the transport ship fill up with armed slaves and the two other slavers. They assumed the two minor slavers could and would fly the transport ship.

  The head slave master also watched the progress of the transport ship as it lifted off the ground. The ship rose straight up with hardly a sound. And Jonathan had wondered about this. ‘What did they use for propulsion?’

  As the transport ship gained enough altitude above the trees it swung around and headed south. Presumably to Busland.

  Before the ship was out of sight the slave master retired to his large opulent tent. When Turk saw the slave master disappear he started to rise. Jonathan clasped his arm and kept Turk from standing erect. Jonathan shook his head. He whispered into Turk’s ear, “let’s wait a few minutes. Maybe he’ll go to sleep.”

  Turk at first stared at Jonathan then nodded. He realized the plan had to succeed although whether for Kookli to be safe. Jonathan hoped that Turk had not smoked any of his pakalolo, marijuana. As they say in Hawaii it was ‘da kine’ – very powerful.

  They waited for twenty minutes and it was agony. None could wait any longer. The six made their way down the slope very quietly.

  They assumed their roles for the ruse they had planned on. However, the grasses in this part of the clearing had not been flattened so they went slow to minimize sound. No slave was in sight to observe this. They hoped the slaver wouldn’t see them as they certainly weren’t acting as slaves under orders. Real slaves would not think about going slow Jonathan presumed.

  Their hike lasted much too long. Turk and Bob were perspiring and it wasn’t solely due to the warm morning. Jonathan could tell nerves were somewhat frayed. It reminded him of the most important game he played in college.

  Jonathan’s college basketball team had to play their arch rival in the last game of the season. It was a pivotal game for the league championship. Jonathan’s team, the Abalones
named after a local culinary favorite though now fished out of existence, hadn’t won a championship in twenty three years.

  In fact they hadn’t even had a winning season in ten and only one in fifteen years. This was a huge game. And unfortunately it was on home court. Can you imagine that the most important game in years would be a detriment if played on your home court?

  Everyone thought it would be a good thing; home court advantage. It usually is. But the home crowd was nervous yet extremely excited. The reporters from the local papers and TV would be there. There was even a crew from one of the stations in San Francisco. The pressure was unbelievable.

  Had they been on their opponent’s court they would have been more relaxed as they were used to being booed and jeered by their opponents’ fans. But at home in this game the pressure in the stands was palpable. The pressure on the hardwood floor was overbearing.

  The players wouldn’t talk about it and looked nervous. Jonathan had hoped once the game started maybe they’d come out of it. They didn’t. More unforced turnovers occurred in that game than in any three games all year. Guys flubbed his passes, shot airballs or inexplicably forgot the basic fundamentals of passing. And defense…!

  Jonathan knew his teammates were tight when a few tripped over the waxed hardwood in warm-ups. A few players stubbed their toes just going to the center circle for jump ball. The game was one of misery and Jonathan refused to watch the tape of the game.

  Turk, Terry and Bob were tight Jonathan knew as they walked toward the tent. It was fortunate they were going slow and picking their way. Those three would probably trip on Astroturf at this point. Jonathan didn’t think Hawk or Keoni were too tight nor did he think they would fail under pressure. He was glad he gave Keoni and Hawk a weapon. He and Turk retained the other two but he was not too certain he wanted Turk to use it. Jonathan had no idea how Turk would react in a tense situation. Turk’s anxiety might alter his aim and his blast might be off target. Lethally off target.

  They arrived in near proximity to the tent. The sun in the east was up enough to cause shadows so they stood for a second where their shadows could not be seen from anyone inside the tent.

  Jonathan unhooked his ray gun silently. Turk did the same with a hard and determined look on his face. Jonathan watched Turk with real but silent misgivings.

  He motioned for Turk to follow behind Keoni and Terry to follow Turk. He motioned for Hawk to come after him with Bob trailing.

  Jonathan and Hawk skirted around the front of the tent opening. It was larger than he had thought from the vantage of the valley slope. It was an easy ten feet high and nearly the same across. The tent opening led to an antechamber, reminding Jonathan of the foyers in the houses of the east coaast. Rugs were laid down in the entrance.

  Now they had two teams.

  Both teams approached each side of the tent opening. They heard no noise, saw no movement. They didn’t stop at the tent opening but quietly stole through the portal. It was an antechamber and about ten feet deep. The thick rugs muffled the sound of their movement. They went into the main chamber with ray guns pointed forward.

  The slave master was sitting with his back to them. His arms were folded and his head down as if in concentration. Maybe he was asleep. Jonathan nodded and he and Keoni aimed and fired. Turk moved in and fired. There was no need for Hawk to fire. The slave master was master to none no more. He was dead before he his head hit the table in front of the screen.

  >

  “I hear ‘em,” whispered Turk.

  “Shut up,” hissed Jonathan. Keoni clapped his catcher mitt sized hand on Turk’s slender shoulder. Turk quieted and even calmed down a little.

  The four, Jonathan, Keoni, Turk and Bob had hidden themselves behind the partially closed curtain separating the bedroom from the main chamber. The bedchamber was connected to the main chamber and they would have an uninterrupted view of the two lesser slavers if they entered.

  Hawk and Jim were hidden in the chamber to the right of the entrance from the tent antechamber. They had had to rearrange the furniture slightly. Hopefully not too much that the two lesser slavers would notice but enough to remain unobserved.

  “Do you want the good news…” said a slaver as he entered the tent’s antechamber.

  “No. That’s not it. It’s ‘have some good news and some bad news.’” Said the other slaver as they walked into the main chamber. They both laughed.

  “Why did your transmission stop?” asked one slaver. “We had to use the hand modulator to get the slaves to work correctly.”

  The two lesser slavers saw the head slaver seated on the chair. The dead slaver was positioned to look like he was asleep with his head resting on his folded arms before the screen. The six had had to bandage the slaver so his wounds wouldn’t leak too much and become noticeable. They also changed his clothes as well as find a different but similar chair.

  “Wake up you dull bones,” said one slaver as they advanced.

  The other slaver turned to his friend, “you have to learn the lingo, that’s ‘lazy bones’ not dull bo…”

  Four green bolts from the ray guns hit the two slavers. They died too quickly to whimper.

  Bob and Turk were sick and it surprised Jonathan how far emesis could travel. With the sun warming up the day which was now late morning the smell in the tent became nauseating and Jonathan fled with the others to escape it.

  The six exited the tent in bright sunshine. Before them were slaves in different poses but frozen. Many of the slaves stood idly with arms draped to their sides. Others were in positions of sitting. The slaves had blank faces though their eyes looked around.

  One slave had a ray gun aimed at some normally dressed humans. These humans had a metal ring around their neck. The six recognized some of them.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The religious folk.

  All eight of them stood still without moving and without seeing.

  The six went up to the religious folk who had been assembled not far from the tent. Jonathan stood next to the armed slave and reached slowly and cautiously. He placed his left hand on the top of the ray gun. It was aimed in the general direction of what was left of the Busland zealots.

  Jonathan had his ray gun trained on the slave just in case. He took the ray gun out of the hand of the slave. He breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want to kill the slave.

  Jonathan turned to the other five, “let’s get all of the ray guns.” He handed the ray gun to Terry. He whistled so the other two groups of his guerrilla force would come into the slavers’ camp.

  Keoni, Turk, Terry and Bob went into the barracks to retrieve the ray guns as Jonathan had the newcomers take the weapons off the slaves. Jonathan returned to the tent to look for the hand modulator. He had examined the neck rings on the religious people and found there was a wire of sorts embedded into the neck of them. He did not want to remove it but thought it would not be difficult with proper surgery.

  However, he thought he might use them in their present condition. Somebody needed to bury the dead slavers. So he searched for the hand modulator the one lesser slaver had mentioned and perhaps he would be able to operate it.

  Jonathan did not find it in the tent and left. By now all of the modest guerrilla force had entered the compound and were assisting the others. The alien slaves and erstwhile slaves had not moved.

  Jonathan walked into the transport ship. It reminded him of the large troop and material transport planes of the military. The end of the ship had a ramp for either men or wheeled vehicles. He walked up the ramp and into the body of the transport ship. He assumed the flight controls would be found in the front and he was not disappointed.

  As he looked around Terry and Bob entered the forward area. “This must be it,” said Terry with a big smile. He looked at home in the cockpit.

  Bob looked the control panel over. He sat in one of the chairs and began to study it.

  “What do you think Bob?” Terry asked. Jonathan conti
nued to look for the modulator without success.

  “It seems pretty straight forward. These people wanted things easy so I think I can figure it out.” Jonathan went back into the body of the ship.

  McNeill exited the transport ship as Jonathan began searching the main cabin. He heard Terry say, “Everyone. On your hands and knees.” Jonathan paused and wondered what in the hell Terry was doing.

  “Okay everyone. Now bark like a dog.”

  Jonathan heard some barking, some woofs and a few growls and laughter. He went to the edge of the ramp and looked out.

  McNeill was before the assembled erstwhile slaves and the few slaves that had not been in the barracks. All the slaves were on their hands and knees but only the earthborn slaves barked. Terry as well as several others was laughing.

  “Okay, now meow like a pussycat.”

  And the earthborn slaves began mewling.

  “Terry. Would you give me that? There’s work to be done.”

  “Aw Jonathan. Go ahead and have some fun. Remember these folk want to burn you at the stake.”

  Jonathan hesitated but for only a moment. “Okay, make them crawl on their bellies like a snake and go hiss.”

  Terry gave the command and the earthborn slaves did exactly that with varying degrees of proficiency. The other slaves just lay on the ground.

  “Funny. The real slaves can’t do the good stuff,” said Terry as he looked at the modulator as if he could make it work for the non-earthborn slaves.

  “Probably means Terry, that when they learned English in the pod they were not taught the sounds of dogs or cats. Hmm. That’s kinda interesting. I wonder how we can use that to our advantage.” McNeill gave the modulator to Prezlee.

  Hawk and Keoni came out of the barracks, “did you know all the slaves there are on their bellies?”

  Jonathan held up the modular. “This commands them. I’ll have to figure out how to make the commands for several rather than all.” Jonathan began examining the device.

  Jonathan pushed down one button. “New slaves stand.” Jonathan wanted to see if he could limit the commands. The newly enslaved stood as the other slaves remained on the ground.

  Jonathan pushed down another button. “All slaves stand.”