things," Mikah intoned seriously. "And donot talk of killing a man for material gain. You are evil, Jason,and.... My boots are gone--and my clothes, too!"
Mikah had thrown back his covering skins and made this startlingdiscovery. "Belial!" he roared. "Asmodeus, Abaddon, Apollyon andBaal-zebub!"
"Very nice," Jason said admiringly, "you really have been studying upon your demonology. Were you just listing them--or calling on them foraid?"
"Silence, blasphemer! I have been robbed!" He rose to his feet and thewind whistling around his almost-bare body quickly gave his skin alight touch of blue. "I am going to find the evil creature that didthis and force him to return what is mine."
Mikah turned to leave but Jason reached out and grabbed his ankle witha wrestling grip, twisted it and brought the man thudding to theground. The fall dazed him and Jason pulled the skins back over theraw-boned form.
"We're even," Jason said. "You saved my life last night, just now Isaved yours. You're bare-handed and wounded--while the old man of themountain up there is a walking armory, and anyone with the personalityto wear that kind of an outfit will kill you as easily as he picks histeeth. So take it easy and try to avoid trouble. There's a way out ofthis mess--there's a way out of _every_ mess if you look for it--andI'm going to find it. In fact I'm going to take a walk right now andstart my research. Agreed?"
A groan was his only answer since Mikah was unconscious again, freshblood seeping from his injured scalp. Jason stood and wrapped hishides about his body as some protection from the wind, tying the looseends together. Then he kicked through the sand until he found a smoothrock that would fit inside his fist with just the end protruding, andthus armed made his way out through the stirring forms of thesleepers.
* * * * *
Mikah was conscious again when Jason returned, and the sun was wellabove the horizon. The people were all awake now, a shuffling,scratching herd of about thirty men, women and children. They wereidentical in their filth and crude skin wrappings, milling about witha random motion or sitting blankly on the ground. They showed nointerest at all in the two strangers. Jason handed a tarred leathercup to Mikah and squatted next to him.
"Drink that. It's water, the only thing that anyone here had to drink.I didn't find any food." He still had the stone in his hand and whilehe talked he rubbed it on the sand: the end was moist and red and somelong hairs were stuck in it.
"I took a good look around this camp, and there's very little morethan you can see from here. Just this crowd of broken down types, afew bundles rolled in hide, and some of them are carrying skin waterbottles. They have a simple me-stronger pecking order so I pecked abit and we can drink. Food comes next."
"Who are they? What are we doing?" Mikah asked, mumbling a little,obviously still suffering the after-effects of the blow. Jason lookedat the contused skull, and decided not to touch it. The wound had bledfreely and clotted. Washing it off with the highly dubious water wouldaccomplish little and might add infection to their other troubles.
"I'm only sure of one thing," Jason said. "They're slaves. I don'tknow why they are here, what they are doing or where they are going,but their status is painfully clear--ours, too. Old Nasty up there onthe hill is the boss. The rest of us are slaves."
"Slaves!" Mikah snorted, the word penetrating through the pain in hishead. "It is abominable. The slaves must be freed."
"No lectures please, and try to be realistic--even if it hurts. Thereare only two slaves that need freeing here, you and I. These peopleseem nicely adjusted to the _status quo_ and I see no reason to changeit. I'm not starting any abolitionist campaigns until I can see my wayclearly out of this mess, and I probably won't start any then either.This planet has been going on a long time without me, and willprobably keep rolling along once I'm gone."
"Coward! You must fight for the Truth and the Truth will make youfree."
"I can hear those capital letters again," Jason groaned. "The onlything right now that is going to make me free is me. Which may be badpoetry, but is still the truth. The situation here is rough but notunbeatable--so listen and learn. The boss, his name is Ch'aka in caseyou care, seems to have gone off on a hunt of some kind. He's not faraway and will be back soon, so I'll try and give you the entire setupquickly.
"I thought I recognized the language, and I was right. It's a corruptform of Esperanto, the language all the Terido worlds speak. Thisaltered language plus the fact that these people live about one stepabove the stone-age culture is pretty sure evidence that they are cutoff from any contact with the rest of the galaxy, though I hope not.There may be a trading base somewhere on the planet, and if there iswe'll find it later. We have enough other things to worry about rightnow, but at least we can speak the language. These people havecontracted and lost a lot of sounds and even introduced a glottalstop, something that _no_ language needs, but with a little effort themeaning can still be made out."
"I do not speak Esperanto."
"Then learn it. It's easy enough even in this jumbled form. And shutup and listen. These locals are born and bred slaves and it is allthey know. There is a little squabbling in the ranks with the biggerones pushing the work on the weak ones when Ch'aka isn't looking, butI have that situation well in hand. Ch'aka is our big problem, and wehave to find out a lot more things before we can tackle him. He isboss, fighter, father, provider and destiny for this mob, and he seemsto know his job. So try to be a good slave for a while...."
"Slave! I?" Mikah arched his back and tried to rise. Jason pushed himback to the ground--harder than was necessary.
"Yes, you--and me, too. That is the only way we are going to survivein this arrangement. Do what everyone else does, obey orders, and youstand a good chance of staying alive until we can find a way out ofthis tangle."
* * * * *
Mikah's answer was drowned out in a roar from the dunes as Ch'akareturned. The slaves climbed quickly to their feet, grabbing up theirbundles, and began to form a single widespaced line. Jason helpedMikah to stand and wrap strips of skin around his feet then supportedmost of his weight as they stumbled to a place in the open formation.Once they were all in position Ch'aka kicked the nearest one and theybegan walking slowly forward looking carefully at the ground as theywent. Jason had no idea of the significance of the action, but as longas he and Mikah weren't bothered it didn't matter: he had enough workcut out for him just to keep the wounded man on his feet. SomehowMikah managed to dredge up enough strength to keep going.
One of the slaves pointed down and shouted and the line stopped. Hewas too far away for Jason to make out the cause of the excitement,but the man bent over and scratched a hole with a short length ofpointed wood. In a few seconds he dug up something round and not quitethe size of his hand. He raised it over his head and brought the thingto Ch'aka at a shambling run. The slavemaster took it and bit off achunk, and when the man who had found it turned away he gave him alusty kick. The line moved forward again.
Two more of the mysterious objects were found, both of which Ch'akaate as well. Only when his immediate hunger was satisfied did he makeany attempt to be the good provider. When the next one was found hecalled over a slave and threw the object into a crudely woven baskethe was carrying on his back. After this the basket-toting slave walkeddirectly in front of Ch'aka who was carefully watchful that every oneof the things that was dug up went into the basket. Jason wonderedwhat they were--and they were edible, too, an angry rumbling in hisstomach reminded him.
The slave next in line to Jason shouted and pointed to the sand. Jasonlet Mikah sink to a sitting position when they stopped and watchedwith interest as the slave attacked the ground with his piece of wood,scratching around a tiny sprig of green that projected from the desertsand. His burrowings uncovered a wrinkled gray object from which thegreen leaves were growing, a root or tuber of some kind. It appearedas edible as a piece of stone to Jason, but obviously not to the slavewho drooled heavily and actually had the temerity to sniff t
he root.Ch'aka howled with anger at this and when the slave had dropped theroot into the basket with the others he received a kick so strong thathe had to limp back painfully to his position in the line.
Soon after this Ch'aka called a halt and the tattered slaves huddledaround while he poked through the basket. He called them over one at atime and gave them one or more of the roots according to some meritsystem of his own. The basket was almost empty when he poked his clubat Jason.
"_K'e nam h'vas vi?_" he asked.
"_Mia namo estas Jason, mia amiko estas Mikah._"
Jason answered in correct Esperanto that Ch'aka seemed to understandwell enough,