Slave of Akrona Pt. 07

Slave of Akrona Part Seven

by G. Lawrence

Shalli meets Lady Gamtra

This science fiction novel features romance but is light on erotic content. It's the story of a young warrior from Earth captured by an alien species and sent to the mines of Akrona to live among slaves. But this warrior from another world is no slave. The book is being presented in 9 parts.

Recap: Grey, using the name Ben so his alien captors will not suspect his real identity, has married a young wife, reorganized the slave camp, and hopes for a better future. But Akrona is part of the Arikhan Empire and it's traditions will have drastic consequences.

* * * * * *

Chapter Seven

THE LADY GAMTRA

The former Sarden Leader of Karak, now Baron Gamtro of Akrona, paced in the light gravity of the orbital space station. By coincidence, he was looking through the viewport when he saw a bright flash from the stargate fifty million kilometers away.

"Is it the Lark?" Gamtro asked, rushing to the inquiry desk.

"Yes, Baron," the clerk responded, checking her communications globe. "A day late, but undamaged and under full power."

The outer ring of the large station rotated to maintain gravity, the floating wheel based on technology stolen from another culture centuries before. Once a contact point for dozens of visiting cargo ships, all but two of the space station's service bays were now mothballed. Akrona was no longer the thriving center of commerce it had been eighty years before, though recent history had shown improvement.

The interior of the station was comfortable without frills. Long curving corridors made of gray polymers accessed storage and crew compartments. The lighting was bright, the temperature generally warm. Occasional portholes allowed views of the sun, planets, and stars.

Gamtro noticed the desk clerk was bored with her duties, pausing often to smooth the curling webbed membrane on her head or adjust her dark purple tunic. Her skin was a commoner's brown, as were most of the space station workers. As dreary as life could be administering production on a remote planet, certainly duty on a cargo dock was worse. Gamtro counted himself fortunate.

The stargate was not a physical structure, but a ring of harmonic energy that surrounded the star maintained by resonance fields and solar winds. Twenty small satellites relayed communications. Another fifty satellites were armed to discourage intruders. Gamtro studied a strategic scanner to see if the Lark traveled alone or with an armed escort, recalling that, in better days, no escort would be necessary.

"Is that the Bos'pher?" Gamtro asked, seeing a second ship. It was a destroyer class warship, lightly armed but maneuverable.

"Bos'pher is now assigned to this sector," the clerk confirmed.

"I once commanded a destroyer, in my young egg days," Gamtro fondly remembered. "It was an old ship, but worthy. The Na'vat. Probably scrapped for spare parts by now."

The clerk said nothing, uncomfortable making small talk with such a high official. A moment later, Gamtro saw the second image disappear back through the stargate. Only the Lark continued forward.

The small cylindrical passenger craft, twenty-five meters long and six meters in diameter, had traveled twenty-one light years to reach the Laros star system. And eighteen light years from the star before that, bursting through the subspace openings with all six thrusters burning. A large spacecraft, such as a first line battle cruiser, might jump sixty light years at a time if the stargates were in alignment. Minor craft had to cope with shorter ranges.

Eight hours after entering Laros space, the transport finally reached the space station, allowing the tired passengers to disembark through the docking port. Among them was a tall, intelligent female dressed in a shimmering gold tunic, the fine membrane covering her head longer than most Arikhan. Her thin blue face was free of wrinkles, and there was a dance of curiosity in her rust-brown eyes. Any who saw her instantly recognized an aristocrat.

"Dogra," Gamtro greeted, rushing to brush claws.

"Gamtro," Dogra said. "Many years has it been since I've felt the touch of my beloved. Or must I now call you Baron Gamtro?"

"As I may now call you Lady Gamtra," Gamtro said with a happy rise of eye-rings.

"Lady Gamtra. A beautiful sound, do you not agree? I am so proud of you, my mate. Nine years ago Festro exiled you to the most worthless camp on the most worthless planet in the empire, and now in but a short space of time, we are restored in wealth and high with rank. A baron no less. Director of all mineral production on Akrona."

"The years have been prosperous, but you are much missed," Gamtro said.

"Attaché to the Ministry of Central Planning is not glamorous work, yet for generations my family has served the high committees. Our work is necessary."

"How fares our legacy?"

"The eggs we devoted to the academy survive. I fear only two will reach maturity, but there may be a warrior among them."

"We will provide a heritage worth boasting of," Gamtro promised.

After collecting the Lady Gamtra's traveling trunks, they went to the departure gate for the flight down to the planet. The waiting area was not crowded, scanners checking each individual's identity and travel status while a lone guard insured order. An airlock allowed admittance to a flexible tunnel accessing the shuttle's boarding hatch.

"Akrona sees much change," Gamtro said as they strapped down in the bucket seats of a small passenger compartment.

Vintage but well-maintained, the shuttlecraft held twelve seats, six on each side with an aisle down the middle. Only a few other passengers shared the vehicle, a short-winged sho'ker with two primary thrusters. Mounted above the hatch to the pilot's compartment was Governor Zenatro's formal crest, crossed platinum swamp leaves, marking it as an official government transport.

Generous windows allowed the passengers to see the planet to starboard. From space, Akrona appeared to be an unremarkable ocean world with most of the land mass confined to a single continent. A few large islands and hundreds of small ones spread like a chain around the world's equator.

"Our colonies are west of the mountain range," Gamtro said, pointing to an area above the equator near several great lakes.

Dogra saw most of the continent was divided by a snowy mountain range. Prairies to the west, thick forests to the east, and large river valleys in the south. The northern coastline was cut with glacial badlands.

"Is Karak not beyond the Varish Expanse? Next to the Rellina River above the Ognak Fork?" Dogra asked.

"You have been making studies," Gamtro said, his tongue clicking with satisfaction.

"Have we no colonies east of the mountains? I see no roads or cities."

"There is little of value east of the mountains," Gamtro said, declining to elaborate.

"Much is your work discussed at the ministry's conference tables, and in the social gatherings after. There is a proposal to build warships here again. The contracts will make the production managers powerful with wealth. You are much credited for reviving this forgotten world."

"A share of credit may be accepted. The new mines are rich. Several refining facilities have been retooled to process more efficiently. Young engineers arrive to improve our assembly plants. We even have plans for two new cargo vessels."

The sho'kar separated from the space dock, dropping into a long glide path toward Va'ragashant, Akrona's colonial capital. The noise of the wing jets allowed Dogra to whisper.

"They say you risk much, treating the food creatures with such deference," Dogra said.

The rumor seemed to worry her. Gamtro understood.

"There is much to say, and this is not the place," he said, looking at the other passengers. "But the cooperation we have achieved costs little, yet gains much. Prosperity is not a crime."

"Since being released by the Sol creatures last year, Mordari has visited six worlds. Her sermons move some hearts but anger more. Jealous voices say you hear her words," Dogra suggested, unsure what his answer would be.

"I am not in league with heresy," Gamtro grunted. "This planet follows a new path to strength. No apologies are needed."

"None call Mordari a heretic. Not yet. But you travel a path she would praise," Dogra said. "You are brave to do so. More brave than in your youth. Much does your bravery make me look forward to a coupling."

"How long may you stay?" Gamtro asked, affirming her desire with a brush of claws.

"Only a season. The marauders grow bolder. With fleet on assignment, it grows difficult to protect our stargates. Even craft such as the Lark must await escort."

"Waging war against the rocks leaves much vulnerability. If we can maintain production here and produce new ships, maybe this marauding can be suppressed."

"Prophecy says the Sword of Sherra will be forged in the mines of Akrona," Dogra recalled. "Bellerophon was not Sherra's Sword as we all believed. It may yet wait to be forged."

The shuttle glided to the planet's only operational landing strip, setting down at the Lo'cosan Spaceport with a gentle bounce. The passengers disembarked on the tarmac and took an open tram to the terminal building. The temperature was warm, the clear sky a lovely blue-green. She noticed rich forests on the surrounding hillsides.

The simple terminal was not large or particularly busy. Built in a series of cubes with light plaster walls painted in a modest green, Dogra thought the structure drab except for its colorful marble flooring.

"Is there so little activity?" Dogra asked, noticing that only two of the spaceport's hangars were in service.

Though the large airfield was surrounded by high walls made of white stone, even the guard towers had been abandoned.

"Until recently, there was little need for more staff. We are trying to recruit new ground crews from Kavas'tak by offering bonuses," Gamtro explained.

"Are crews so difficult to find?" Dogra inquired.

"Skilled crews are. They expect more comforts than Akrona offers, but we are improving. There is a new tavern on Scrabbage Hill, and we reopened the theater."

"Only one theater?" Dogra laughed, clicking her tongue softly.

Gamtro wasn't sure, but he suspected Dogra was mocking the colonial world's attempt to develop culture.

Given precedence, Gamtro and Dogra boarded a private ground transport, her baggage taking up most of the eight-wheeler's cargo space. The seats were comfortable, the driver wise enough to remain quiet among his superiors. The vehicle moved smoothly except where the old stone road grew rough. Large windows provided a good view of the green landscape.

After thirty kilometers of forested highway, they reached a low hill overlooking a vast grassy plain. Out in the middle of the plain, bordering two glistening blue lakes, was a small city.

"Va'ragashant was important once. Two hundred thousand colonists lived here," Gamtro said. "Now we barely have sixty thousand."

Dogra saw a handful of tall buildings dominating the city center, but few were over eight stories high. Most of the commercial structures were low roofed and joined together by covered walkways. Private dwellings were most obvious by their broad sundecks.

"I had thought the capital more worldly," Dogra said, finding nothing inspiring in the old-fashioned hive architecture.

They exited the vehicle in the city center. Before them was an ancient stone fort, the walls too low for a realistic defense, and a wide plaza surrounded by produce stalls. Merchants and a few soldiers loitered in the plaza where a small sandstone temple allowed travelers to leave offerings for Sherra. Dogra noticed two of the lesser deities where also honored; Ro'gak, the god of strength, and Darri, the god of fortitude.

Beyond the fortress gate stood an impressive administration building with tall arched entrances. Wide balconies on each of its eight levels allowed government workers plenty of fresh air and daylight.

"The new residences on Zilif Heights are quite elegant, but I rarely stay there," Gamtro said, pointing to a row of dwellings on a ridge across the river. "Zenatro and I are not on good terms. In the morning, I would like to return to Karak for a few days."

"I had not expected to take my sabbatical in a slave camp," Dogra objected.

"If you find the camp beyond toleration, the remainder of your stay can be here," Gamtro offered.

"That is fair. Is it true that even greater increases in production are expected?"

Gamtro's answer was interrupted.

"Any fool can increase production if he is a thief," a gravelly voice burst.

They turned to see Governor Zenatro waddling in their direction from the administration building. Barely Dogra's height but twice her weight, the big alien moved in jarring steps rather than the graceful glide typical of their species. His emerald tunic was of the finest quality, his leather boots smartly oiled. Deep shades of blue in his cheeks and neck indicated an aristocratic heritage, though not of Dogra's lineage.

"Your mate has stolen a thousand slaves from other camps, closed the pens, and pirated the best supplies. He is a monster, Lady Gamtra. A monster. Sherra's dark shadow," Zenatro complained, clicking his tongue rapidly.

"It is good to see you again, Zenny," Dogra replied, amused by the governor's exasperated tirade. But despite the jesting manner, she sensed genuine tension between the two. Zenatro's career had stalled on Akrona while her mate's was soaring.

"Have the new analyzers arrived yet?" Gamtro said, unimpressed with Zenatro's teasing.

"Not yet," Zenatro replied.

"We need that equipment to expand operations at Gotsha'ka. Why double mineral production if we cannot process the best ore?"

"You made no such demands when you were Sarden Leader of Karak. Now you have twenty camps, and each week you have twenty more demands," Zenatro complained.

"Do you want enough Akronium to build warships, or should we go back to making copper kettles?" Gamtro taunted.

"I will locate the analyzers for you, provided there are sufficient rewards," Zenatro hinted with a discreet click of his thick tongue.

"There is profit enough for all," Gamtro said, reluctantly agreeing to the bribe. Dogra saw her mate was unhappy with Zenatro's attitude.

"Commander Cordaris sends me a new assistant. Amartro. You met him at the desert conference," Zenatro mentioned. "I will instruct him to supervise the delivery."

"I require no help from the Contingent. They hamper production," Gamtro protested.

"Is that your opinion, or the opinion of your pet?" Zenatro grumbled, shoulders straightening.

"New contracts are worthless without product," Gamtro answered.

"Amartro will be urged to restraint," Zenatro agreed.

"The Contingent knows no restraint. They are brooding flanta with the grace of vvleen," Gamtro cursed, clicking his tongue boldly.

"Do not trouble yourself over the ambitions of commoners," Zenatro impatiently replied. "Think on tonight's Grand Formal."

"A formal?" Dogra asked.

"The reception is in your honor, great lady," Zenatro proudly boasted, waving his claw toward a large tent near the administration building. Servants were busy rushing in and out.

"I am not on ministry business," Dogra said, surprised.

"That may be true, but still do we humble provincials wish to offer tribute. Not often does a high official visit such a Sherra forsaken world as this," Zenatro explained.

"I look forward to your company, Zenny," Dogra said. "There are fine wines in my baggage, the grapes grown in the bosom of Arikhan. You can tell me of all the terrible crimes committed by your Sarden Leader. Oh, excuse me. I mean Baron Gamtro."

Zenatro raised eye-rings in mock insult, looking forward to an evening with one as beautiful and cultured as the Lady Gamtra.

* * * * * *

"The politics of these backwater planets never fail to astound," Dogra said on the train two days later. "At committee, we argue over the disposition of fleet resources protecting twenty-five planets. How to structure governing boards without promoting corruption. Even treaties, such as the one with these foul Sol creatures. Here the bickering is worse, and all over a handful of worthless food creatures."

"Nothing has been revealed of the negotiations. Will we truly honor a truce with Sol?" Gamtro asked.

"We must for now. Our fleets are spread thin and the Western Belt reeks with pirates."

"I did not realize Sol had established a permanent stargate."

"They did not have a stable resonance field until last year. The technology was stolen when they captured Bhast. The gate is not powerful enough to window a battlecruiser, and the Sol creatures breed small warships like solets in heat. As they pose no threat to our worlds, the Council of Warriors have chosen to postpone the problem for another time. Praise Sherra the hostages are finally released."

"Is it true all our warships were lost? All of the warriors killed?" Gamtro asked, sharing the astonishment most Arikhan felt at their invasion's defeat nine years before.

"A thousand colonists from Bhast were captured, and a regiment of warriors who landed on the planet were forced to surrender, but it is true that all three warships perished," Dogra lamented. "Only now are we getting full reports on the battle. We know the Sol creatures were alert to our approach, and they were not the primitive culture our studies anticipated. They fought tenaciously and accepted deep losses. Most vitally, they had determined leadership. Sol possesses a species of food creature our empire has rarely encountered. We will study them carefully before invading again."

"Did the Sol creatures brainwash Mordari during her captivity?"

"No, that is a fiction put out by the Ministry. Mordari truly believes Sherra frowns upon our treatment of these lesser species. Now that she is called the Voice of Sherra, her claims grow ever bolder. If she does not curtail her activities, she will most certainly be arrested. And all who sympathize with her."

"Are you providing warning?" Gamtro asked.

"No. Merely advising."

The train, consisting of four dozen cargo tenders and one passenger car, was pulled by a sturdy hydrogen powered engine. As they left the green pastures around the capital, the train passed a series of dreary industrial plants before entering a vast prairie. Near a rundown processing center they saw a group of slaves digging salt. The plight of the slaves, though only visible from a distance, was obvious to the passengers. They looked thin, weary, and dreadfully dressed in white linen rags.

"As I thought," Dogra said, refusing to see more. "I pity those who staff these wretched outposts. It was cruel of Festro to send you here. And these poor animals. The pens would be more merciful. At least the stockyards don't torture the poor things."

"It does not need to be like this," Gamtro said, eye-rings dipping.

"I suppose your camps are better?"

"In the beginning, my camps were such as the one you see, but much improvement has been made."

"A slave is a slave. A camp a camp. All is misery leading to the pens," Dogra said.

"I know one who says these things are relative," Gamtro mentioned.

"He would not say so if he were a slave. As for slaves, what is this pet of yours everyone speaks of? I could not tell if Zenatro admires the creature or hates it, so sharp were his words."

"Ben provokes much controversy," Gamtro agreed.

"It even has a name? Ben?"

"They all have names, my mate. They have personalities. They have loves. Hates. Resentments. We may destroy them if we choose, but these traits cannot be denied."

"I have never spoken to a food creature," Dogra said with some apprehension. "I have seen pictures of them before they enter the pens, but the meat looks different after it reaches the distribution centers."

"Few of our people have contact with food creatures," Gamtro said. "The populations that once inhabited the inner systems are extinct. The survivors on the outer worlds are few in number. Even here on Akrona, there are but a few thousand left. You will meet some of them today. Perhaps they will surprise you."

"I am afraid, my mate. Are your guards heavily armed?"

"Never would my beloved be exposed to danger," he answered, brushing her claw. Dogra sighed with relief and looked out the window at a tall mountain range in the distance.

After many hours and several short stops, the train slowed as it approached a great river. On the other side of a long suspension bridge, Dogra saw a stretch of cultivated land.

"Those are farms!" Dogra exclaimed, jumping from her seat to look at acres of green vegetation running from the hills down to the river's edge.

The train crossed a creaking hundred-year-old bridge, the farms to their right, a forested hillside on the left. A narrow valley loomed ahead, the tracks and a creek running down the middle. Not far from the tracks, beyond an electrically powered fence, were the famous Karak mines at the base of a frightening rock mountain. And there were strange structures littering the landscape.

As the train moved up the valley, Dogra saw a group of slaves, but they were not the pathetic specimens of the salt camp. These slaves were dressed in colorful clothing and appeared well fed. A dark-haired female carried a child in her arms and looked happy. Dogra turned to Gamtro and saw him watching the group. There was pride in his gaze.

"That is Jarten, leader of the Bear Camp, and his mate, Seak. Their baby is named Fronny. She's a year old now," he said.

"They do not look like slaves," Dogra said, her eyes wide.

"As I said, our camps are managed differently. It is an important part of our success."

The train halted near the loading platforms where ore carts were lined up. Crews rushed forward, eager to fill the waiting cargo holds. Gamtro and Dogra went out the other side, walking up the flagstone path to the camp headquarters located on the hillside.

"I must apologize," Gamtro said. "No doubt you would have found better comforts in town. Our facilities are more primitive than some, but these last few years have been busy. We have not made time for luxuries."

"It will only be a few days. The facilities cannot be worse than those tiny staterooms on the Lark," Dogra acknowledged.

As they approached the wooden building at the top of the path, Gamtro was startled to see it had a fresh coat of jungle green paint. White and yellow stripes gave it texture. The door was decorated with swirling strings of pinecones. Frontra and Nabbatron stood outside, dressed in their best leather uniforms, jaunty yellow feathers tucked in their wide brim hats.

"Welcome back, Baron Gamtro. You were gone longer than expected," Nabbatron said, his tongue clicking in respect.

"Greetings, Lady Gamtra. We are honored by your visit," Frontra said, her eyes reflecting great admiration.

"Beloved, this is Nabbatron, head of my guard, and Frontra, supervisor of the workers," Gamtro introduced.

"It is my honor to meet those who have served my mate so loyally these many years. If ever you visit Arikhan, you are welcome to our estate at Kal' Tree," Dogra said.

"Thank you, Lady Gamtra," the sentries said with deep appreciation.

"Has all progressed well in my absence?" Gamtro asked.

"All is as it should be," Frontra said, standing aside to let them enter the headquarters.

Again Gamtro was amazed. New rugs had been laid throughout the building, the walls decorated with rustic artworks. The tables and kitchen were scrubbed clean. Baskets of fresh food gave the quarters a friendly smell. Gamtro looked toward the corridor where his small sleeping chamber was. The room was gone as if it never existed.

"My mate's baggage is on the train," Gamtro said to Nabbatron. "Are my quarters still here somewhere?"

"Up the stairs to the left," Nabbatron said, trying to keep eye-rings low.

"Stairs? What stairs?" Gamtro asked.

"Your mate makes light of his efforts, Lady Gamtra. You must need rest from your long journey," Frontra said.

With Gamtro following, Frontra led Dogra into the corridor and up a flight of newly cut plank steps to a spacious room perched on the edge of the hill. Through large glass windows they could see all the way down the valley to the river. The floor was sanded oak, the walls a light-colored pine. A large sleeping platform was made with woven bedding of the finest quality and shaped into a giant nest. A sitting room off to the left held stools and a work table. To the right, Dogra found clothing cupboards and a private water closet. Through a sliding glass door was a wide balcony to enjoy the evenings.

"Gamtro, much have you fooled me," Dogra said. "These are beautiful rooms. What amenities in town could be better than these?"

Gamtro glanced at Frontra, who was very pleased with herself.

"Is this Ben's doing?" Gamtro whispered as Dogra went out on the balcony.

"And many others, though it was his idea," Frontra confirmed.

"Five years now have we worked together, yet still does he surprise me," Gamtro confided.

"Many are his skills, though Romtra, Shalli and I provided advice," Frontra said.

"Where is he?" Gamtro asked.

"He seeks extension of the Squirrel Camp mine. He suspects a new vein of Akronium broader than the last one," Frontra answered.

"I have ordered him not to enter those tunnels. He ventures into unstable areas."

"He seeks treasure from the mountain," Frontra said.

"Will the mountain replace him if he is lost?" Gamtro asked.

"I will have him recalled," Frontra agreed.

"Immediately. And fail not to mention my displeasure," Gamtro said with a sharp click of his tongue.

"I am sure he will be much afraid," Frontra said, rolling her eye-rings.

Gamtro blinked acknowledgment. Both knew there was little chance their errant engineer would be impressed by Gamtro's displeasure.

"Invite Ben and Shalli to dine tonight with the Lady Gamtra and myself. And schedule a meeting for the senior staff. Have all wear their best," Gamtro instructed.

"Yes, Baron," Frontra said, going to issue the orders.

Gamtro joined Dogra on the balcony, enjoying the view as much as she did.

"This is a breathtaking place," Dogra said. "The river is beautiful, and the forest is so green. The mountains stand like purple giants. I can hear birds sing. Those structures, across the tracks, what are they? The ones made of rock with thatched roofs."

"Those quarters belong to the workers," Gamtro said.

"I thought slaves lived in tents and caves, if they lived in anything at all."

"A few years ago, that was true. Much changes. We built a timber mill to cut wood and acquired power tools for digging, which has freed labor to improve camp conditions. The ovens make bricks and pottery. While off-duty, guards hunt game, and we have extended the gardens all the way to the river, providing a surplus that we barter at the city markets. We work better, smarter, and faster, and this brings many rewards."

"Better, smarter, and faster? That sounds like a proverb," Dogra said.

"The proverb of my chief engineer. I question if you will like him. Some are offended by his bad manners."

"Beloved, I once served the diplomatic corps. I interact well with all types."

"We will see if that is true," Gamtro said.

* * * * * *

After their long separation, Dogra and Gamtro did not wait long for a coupling, thrashing about in the big nest among lashing tongues, gripping claws, and tossing bedding everywhere. Little of the afternoon remained when they decided to wash up.

"The refreshment closet has a shower. Heated water," Gamtro said, testing the new plumbing.

"Is that a surprise?" Dogra asked, wondering where her traveling clothes had gone and knowing her baggage had been left downstairs.

"Yes, my beloved, a surprise which I will explain later. It should make an interesting story. Enjoy the shower. I will bathe in the guardroom and find Nabbatron. There are reports to study before meal time."

As Gamtro went downstairs, Dogra took a shower in a newly tiled stall built of intricately combined slate and shale. The hot water did not last quite so long as she wanted, but still satisfied. Then she stood before a mirror, admiring her smooth leathery skin, still free of unsightly spots, and the long membrane behind her ear holes which gave her such a distinctive appearance. The four-digit claws were perfectly formed, the hard nails clipped to her taste. Her skin held a delicate blue tint with only the slightest traces of tan. Sure evidence of a noble heritage.

Not bad looking for a middle-aged countess, Dogra thought, finding a towel as she returned to the nest room. Then she stopped cold, her heart beating fast as her breathing grew short. There was a food creature. Right there in her room.

Surprised by Dogra's sudden appearance, Shalli dropped the bedding she carried and instantly fell to her knees in the posture of submission.

"Forgive me, mistress," Shalli said, her head bowed low.

Dogra regained her composure. The female slave was a little more than twenty years old, with long blonde hair and creamy skin. It was a small creature that did not appear menacing.

"Look up," Dogra said.

Shalli obeyed, her big blue eyes searching for something in Dogra's stare. Dogra sensed curiosity. The creature is intelligent, she realized.

"Have you a name?" Dogra asked.

"Yes, Lady Gamtra. My name is Shalli," Shalli answered in a clear Arikhan, her accent better than some provincials. "I am sorry to have disturbed you, mistress. I wanted to bring up your bags and straighten the bed."

"That is very thoughtful of you, food crea... Shalli," Dogra said, charmed by the obedient creature. "Please stand and remove your false hide."

Hesitant at first, Shalli stood up and undressed, dropping her elk skin dress on the floor, then removing her moccasins and deerskin underwear, standing naked before Dogra's inquiring stare.

"You are lovely," Dogra said in surprise, admiring the well-formed breasts, graceful limbs, and nicely proportioned body structure. She noticed Shalli's face turning red but it took her a moment to guess why.

"Are you embarrassed?" Dogra asked.

"Yes, mistress," Shalli said, looking down at the floor.

Embarrassed? Dogra thought, scarcely able to believe it. Gamtro is right, these creatures have sensibilities. At least, this one seems to. And it is very sweet, not some roaming brute like food creatures are portrayed in the theatres. Perhaps this one is an exception?

"I am sorry, Shalli. Please dress," Dogra allowed, watching how she did it. Another surprise. The creature dressed just like anyone else.

"You are helping with my luggage?" Dogra asked.

"If it pleases you, mistress," Shalli replied.

"An instruction from Baron Gamtro?"

"Excuse me, mistress?"

"You are ordered to serve?"

"No, mistress!" Shalli said, her eyes bright with disagreement. "We have known for months you would be visiting. Everyone has worked hard to make your stay pleasant. I had to draw lots with Pie and Keep for the honor. Tak wanted to draw, but the twins keep her busy."

"You have sought this duty? In truth?" Dogra asked.

"Yes, mistress. Often has Baron Gamtro told of the illustrious Lady Gamtra. Of your great education and high culture. All are excited to meet you."

Dogra was truly perplexed. It had never occurred to her that she would be a celebrity among food creatures, or that one could be so pleasurable as this Shalli.

"Have you no hatchlings to keep you busy, like your friend?" Dogra asked.

Shalli's smile disappeared as her head dropped.

"My little Jaime died last year," Shalli replied, choking back the words. "He was very smart and beautiful. I miss him terribly."

"I mourn your loss," Dogra said, realizing she meant it. "Soon you will have more."

"Yes, mistress. I pray to Sherra daily for the blessing," Shalli responded.

Dogra gasped. The creature worshipped Sherra! Of course, its simple mind could not be expected to comprehend the all-encompassing greatness of the Arikhan deity, but that Shalli would even imagine an appeal to Sherra was a staggering concept.

"Have you seen the clothing worn by females of my world?" Dogra asked, going to one of the trunks. "Not guard uniforms or provincial wear, but the lovely silks and satins of civilization."

"Only bits and pieces, mistress," Shalli admitted, looking with eagerness as the trunk was opened.

"Then come, Shalli, and help me unpack from a long voyage," Dogra said. "I stay here at Karak for the season. I will enjoy having another to share these with."

Just before sunset, Dogra went downstairs dressed in a comfortable dark blue leisure suit, stopping in the corridor to look for Gamtro. Shalli had returned to camp a few minutes before, bouncing happily with a gold silk scarf wrapped around her neck. Dogra found half a dozen guards gathered at the conference table in the main room, Gamtro sitting at the head. Introductions were made before the guards left.

"You were with Shalli for nearly two hours, beloved," Gamtro said, moving to a stool at the gaming tables where a bottle of fine bruno sat. Gamtro poured her a cup. "If the food creature frightens you, I can station an armed guard at your door."

"You are right to tease me. How could anyone be afraid of Shalli? She is a dear thing, and very bright," Dogra answered, surprised the find the wine of an acceptable vintage.

"Did you expect an ugly monster?" Gamtro asked.

"There is a new theatre on Arikhan. The Keepers. It portrays food creatures as bloody vvleen capable of hideous murder. Everyone who attends is frightened."

"I only guess, but in the early days of the empire our first conquests were of primitive worlds," Gamtro said. "Those creatures probably were barbaric vvleen. But not all worlds are like that. Two centuries ago, Akrona was just emerging from barbarity when we enslaved the population. There were millions of them then."

"Perhaps exposure to our culture has helped civilize them? I heard Shalli offer a prayer to Sherra."

"We may hope that is true. Sherra shapes the universe according to Her will. This may be Sherra's plan," Gamtro said. "But our will is not negligible. I have arranged for us to have privacy tonight. My staff is staying at their lodges where they find more comfort."

"Comforts? Here?" Dogra said.

"Each senior member of my staff is wealthy now. When they rotate out at the end of their enlistment, they will have fine homes for retirement," Gamtro said. "Zenatro is too dense to realize that revenues from the lumber mill and farms produce as much as our mining bonuses. The glass factory we started at Ka'lan last year utilizes deposits of river sand. No one else on Akrona makes good quality glass."

"Such enterprise," Dogra said, brushing his beak with hers. "Never have I dreamed you could be such a merchant, my mate."

"It is a learned skill," Gamtro said, careful in his response. "Dogra, my beloved mate, much do I long to reside in your esteem, but there are things not yet disclosed. All will be known soon. Keep open your thoughts, and know that it takes many to accomplish things worthwhile."

"This I already know, my mate," a puzzled Dogra said. "My career is spent in committees. Teamwork is always the source of success."

"It gladdens me that you understand. The evening meal will wait until sundown. I would visit the pens while there is still light."

"The pens! Zenatro said you closed the pens," Dogra said, instantly thinking of Shalli.

"Workers are not sent to the slaughterhouses, but there are herd creatures on the prairie to exploit. We call them buffalo. As an experiment, we captured a group and fenced them in a box canyon."

"This is not a new practice, my mate. On several worlds, herd animals are bred on ranches. It lowers the cost and increases supply. Few Arikhan will engage in such work, but those who do make much profit."

"We wish to prove it can be done here," Gamtro said, surprised to learn his mate had studied so far from her field.

"Many talents do you acquire on this world. If our circle back home knew, you would gain much admiration."

"We may hope that is true. Would you like to see the buffalo? They are more fearsome than Shalli."

"Will you tease me of this for long?" Dogra asked, raising graceful eye-rings highlighted with ruby streaks.

Dogra followed Gamtro south along the deep creek, wider now than in the past due to a levee supplying water to an orchard. The camp was to their right, the forest on the left. Many of the trees to the west of the creek had been harvested where the ground gave way to a long sloping hill.

At the end of the tracks, she saw a large maintenance building made of wooden planks held together with steel bolts. Dogra guessed the structure big enough to service train engines should they require repair.

As the valley grew wider, a canyon appeared on the east side. There, behind a sturdy stockade fence, Dogra saw a herd of large hairy beasts milling around an artificial pond. She thought the hides would make wonderful coats if properly cured.

"Greetings, Lord Gamtro," a stocky middle-aged researcher said.

Dogra recognized the markings on his sea-green tunic as those of the Guild of Agriculturalists. She had not known the guild had a chapter on Akrona, let alone an investigator at Karak.

"Thank you, Tameron. How fare the beef-creatures?" Gamtro asked.

"They thrive. My report will remark favorably on your project," Tameron said, the accent sophisticated. Dogra wondered if Tameron was descended from a distinguished family.

"This is the Lady Gamtra. She has come to see the buffalo," Gamtro introduced.

"All know of Lady Gamtra and her work for the high committees. I am honored," Tameron said, his cheeks flushing light blue. Dogra dipped her head, acknowledging his homage.

"We are considering expanding the herd," Gamtro said.

"Diverse genes are necessary for good breeding, but you will need a larger water supply and more grass than you have in this canyon," Tameron explained. "And who will tend them? It is not fit work for your guards."

"Perhaps you can provide recommendations?" Gamtro requested.

"It would be an honor, Baron," Tameron eagerly agreed, clicking his tongue with pleasure.

Dogra took a sideways glance at her mate, approving of his skill in gaining the guild member's cooperation. And surprised to find him so diplomatic.

Just after sunset, Dogra walked alone up the poorly lit path to the headquarters. The tall dark trees loomed over her with foreboding shadows. The late spring brush seemed to hide lurking dangers. The forest did not feel so friendly at night. She was glad Gamtro would be along soon, having stopped at the rail station to authorize cargo manifests.

When she saw a light coming from an open door at the top of the path, Dogra hurried her pace, entering the headquarters with relief. She quickly noticed the conference table had been cleared of the day's work and set with large candle holders. There was no one in the main room, but noise came from the kitchen.

"Frontra? Romtra?" Dogra called out, approaching slowly.

Then she stopped with a gasp of terror. A horrible blood-soaked monster was standing in the doorway. A half-mad food creature! It wore a white apron splotched with red stains and held a long bloody knife in one paw. Sweat streaked its fierce brow and piercing gray eyes glared out from a narrow, sun-bronzed face. Its tousled brown hair grew wild in every direction.

Dogra prided herself on a brave heritage. It was not deemed fitting to cry out in fear, but it took all her nerve not to scream. The creature studied her, seemed to notice her reaction, and raised the knife. Dogra almost took a step back toward the door but could not bring herself to flee. Then, to Dogra's great relief, the creature made a half turn, threw the knife back into the kitchen basin, and dropped to its knees, the forehead making complete contact with the floor.

"Forgive me, Lady Gamtra," the creature said, the voice not unpleasant. And the Arikhan pronunciation was nearly perfect, though clipped with a strange accent.

"What is your purpose here, food creature?" Dogra said, regaining her composure.

"Preparing your meal, mistress," Grey said.

Dogra looked past the creature into the kitchen. A slab of freshly cut venison lay cooking on the grill. Spices were laid out on the counter. Colorful ceramic plates were stacked on serving trays near freshly cleaned utensils.

"Oh, for Sherra's sake," Dogra said, realizing now why the creature was covered in blood. And feeling especially foolish.

Gamtro entered.

"What's wrong?" Gamtro asked.

"Nothing, my mate. I did not realize... nothing is wrong."

"What are you doing on the floor?" Gamtro asked his kneeling servant, his tongue clicking with displeasure.

"I fear the Lady Gamtra was startled, master," Grey said, maintaining the position.

"Our ways are strange to her," Gamtro said. "Do you fare well, my beloved?"

"Yes, but I do not understand. It is male. A food creature. Why does it prepare our meal when there are females available?" Dogra asked.

"A fair question. What is the answer?" Gamtro asked. "And get up. Stop groveling on the floor like a slave."

Grey stood and took several steps backward before removing the apron. His expression was still contrite. Dogra now saw it wasn't a blood-soaked monster, but a male of medium height, average weight, and a proportional build. The sweat came from working in the warm kitchen. The eyes shone with a searching intelligence. And there was sadness. This creature carried a world of experience on its shoulders.

"Shalli wanted extra time to dress. This is a special evening for her. I volunteered to cook the meal," Grey explained.

"It knows Shalli?" Dogra asked.

"I apologize for my negligence," Gamtro said. "Lady Gamtra, this is Ben, Shalli's husband. They are joining us for the evening meal. Ben, this is my most beloved, informally called Dogra, now the Lady Gamtra."

"You are Ben? Gamtro's famous pet?" Dogra asked.

"The master has been kind to me, mistress," Grey said, bowing deeply.

"That's enough," Gamtro objected, eye-rings hard and tongue clicking with dissatisfaction. "Beloved, in private Ben does not address me as master, or Baron. He simply calls me Gamtro. He has been my chief engineer for the last five years. He is responsible for cutting the new mines, for building the timber mill, the glass factory, the buffalo pens, and for many other projects that central planning is still unaware of. And he helped me reorganize the new camps assigned to my department. We would not have our exalted rank if not for him."

"My master speaks too generously," Grey disagreed. "Production is controlled by his authority. If failure is his to accept, so is the success. He is the one who raised the financing, found the extra labor, and risked ridicule to try new methods. If not for his boldness, I would have been sent to the pens years ago."

"We both know that is not true," Gamtro protested.

"We both know that it is," Grey responded.

"The creature is impertinent, is it not?" Dogra asked, adding a click of disapproval to the end of her question.

"Always has it been so. Ben is also my friend," Gamtro replied.

Dogra studied her mate's expression and realized it was no exaggeration. He truly felt affection for the creature. She would claim no expertise in reading a human being's expression, but she sensed that Ben felt the same way about Gamtro.

It suddenly struck her just what they were saying. The mines, the timber, the new wealth, all a result of their partnership. Even her new rank. Dogra's knees suddenly went weak.

"Let me find you a stool. Ben, find wine for us," Gamtro said.

As Grey scurried back into the kitchen, Gamtro helped Dogra sit down and loosened her collar for better breathing.

"I am sorry. I should have explained sooner, but this is not something to discuss in a public communication," he apologized.

"Certainly not. Never have I heard of such a thing," Dogra said.

"I hope you are not angry," Gamtro said.

"No, beloved, not angry. Just concerned," Dogra answered. Then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Is it really responsible for as much as you say?"

"By Sherra's Oath."

"Remarkable."

Grey returned with two cups of imported wine, passing the first to Dogra, then the other to Gamtro before stepping back. Dogra noticed Gamtro's eye-rings curl sharply.

"Are you going to do this all evening?" Gamtro said to Grey.

"Do what, master?" Grey questioned.

"Pretend to be my servant. Lady Gamtra is my mate. A sacred bond in our culture. Do not play the fool with her," Gamtro insisted.

Dogra saw Grey frown. Clearly he was not comfortable with the situation. He didn't want to question Gamtro, especially about so sensitive an issue, but he wasn't ready to offer his trust, either. The dilemma was obvious in the creature's eyes.

"Ben, get yourself a cup and sit," Dogra ordered, leaving her stool. "Gamtro, take your seat. I will finish making the meal."

"Excuse me, Lady Gamtra, but the meal will be ready soon and you need to change clothes. Let me finish the preparations," Grey requested.

"I will let you finish the cooking if you will call me Dogra when we are alone," Dogra bargained.

Grey sighed as if it was a bit much to ask, then nodded and went into the kitchen.

"I am not sure it will obey," Dogra said in amazement.

"These creatures have many reasons not to trust the superior race, but Ben makes his own decisions, and they are always based on us as individuals. I think he trusts Frontra more than many of his own kind. In time, he will trust you, also."

"Shalli and I will spend some afternoons together. There is much I wish to learn about these people," Dogra said, getting ready to go upstairs.

"People?" Gamtro said.

"No doubt the majority of this planet's population is barbarian, but Shalli and Ben do not seem like food creatures. I have no doubt Shalli is an exception, of course. And Ben is obviously from a civilized race."

Shalli arrived wearing a lovely deerskin dress embroidered on the hem, soft beaded moccasins, and her hair bundled on top of her head tied with her new silk scarf. Grey changed into a deerskin shirt, bleached goat hide pants and buffalo hide boots. When Dogra looked downstairs and saw the trouble Shalli had gone to, she selected a sleek brown dinner suit with an ermine collar that matched the rustic occasion. Gamtro merely dressed as he always did, in a simple camp uniform.

"That was an excellent meal, Ben," Dogra said. "For someone who does not eat meat, you certainly know how to prepare it."

"Ben is good at everything," Shalli said, hanging on his arm.

Dogra could see that Shalli adored her mate. And he seemed fond of her, though he was much older. They made a good match.

In the course of the dinner conversation, Dogra lost all doubt that Ben was an engineer of exceptional talent. He could explain complex projects in ways that were easy to understand. Weave together diverse theories, means and goals that even a full committee would find confusing. And even then, he wasn't discussing everything he was thinking, only that which needed to be known. It made Dogra very curious about his origins. Certainly he was not native to a primitive world like Akrona.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Dogra," Shalli said as they prepared to leave.

"You are welcome, child. I shall anticipate a visit with your friends," Dogra said, even fonder of Shalli than before.

"We can still postpone the hunting trip," Grey suggested.

Gamtro considered the offer but Dogra gave him encouragement with a wiggle of her thin eye-rings.

"We should go. We know little of the best game trails this late in the spring," Gamtro said. "Maybe the females can go with us?"

"No thank you!" Dogra and Shalli said at the same time. Shalli laughed and Dogra clicked her tongue.

After Shalli and Grey left for the compound, Dogra sat down next to Gamtro.

"Their table manners are not bad," she said. "Not cosmopolitan, but not bad."

"Better manners than Zenatro," Gamtro remarked.

"Does Ben never eat meat? Shalli does. She seemed to enjoy the grilled deer."

"She certainly did. She ate so much I thought we might have to go out for another," Gamtro said, clicking his tongue rapidly. As Dogra did. "I have only known Ben to eat meat on rare occasions, but he does hunt. And one of his first projects after we formed our partnership was to restock the lake with fish. He said it would provide a more balanced diet for the workers and attract game birds from the river. As always, he was correct."

"Partnership is a dangerous word. Are you truly partners?" Dogra asked.

"No, I suppose not," Gamtro said.

"What troubles you? If Ben merely serves, none may criticize."

"They will criticize, my mate. Make no mistake."

Gamtro walked upstairs, removed his uniform, and went to sit on the balcony. Campfires lit the west side of the valley. Stars and one of the moons shone above. Dogra removed her dinner outfit and followed in a thin silk shift.

"What is wrong?" she asked, sitting next to him on a log bench.

"I find it disturbing. If Ben and I were true partners, we could pursue our projects as equals instead of master and slave. There is so much more we could achieve."

"What more can you do for Ben? He is a food creature, subject to the laws of the Empire," Dogra said.

"That is not what troubles my thoughts. While we grow in honor, everything Ben does is for his people. What little he keeps is for Shalli's sake. There are times I grow embarrassed by the arrangement."

"Has he asked for more?"

"No, Ben knows the law as we do. Perhaps better. He does his best. He knows I do my best. He also knows nothing lasts forever. In two more years, my term of office will expire. What will happen to the camps then?"

"Surely, my mate, someone else will wish to profit as you have, and gain recognition," Dogra said even as she began asking herself the same question.

"But will they accept advice from a food creature? Tolerate Ben's insolent ways? I have thought, my mate, that I should try to take the governorship from Zenatro."

"Sarden Leader to governor in a mere nine years? Beloved, even if the ministry would entertain such an idea, you would make powerful enemies. You would be undermined at every turn. If you must seek protection for these creatures, find another path."

"You speak wisely," Gamtro said, brushing her claw.

"Have you spoken to Ben of this?" Dogra wondered.

"Ben will say little, only that it lies with Sherra to decide. But I sense he agrees with you. No encouragement is offered."

"That is strange," she said.

"Strange?"

"I would think he has much to gain if you succeed, and little to lose if you fail," Dogra suggested.

"You do not yet understand, my beloved."

* * * * * *

On the third day of her visit, Dogra walked down the path from the headquarters and crossed over the footbridge to the main gate. It was a nice morning, not too cold, and she dressed casually in a light blue tunic and low boots.

From the outside, Karak was notably unimpressive. A few old tool sheds and the train station were common to any industrial facility. The shimmering blue energy barrier that reached to the river on her right and curved deep into the mountains on her left was barely visible in the bright sun. Though appearing harmless, attempts to penetrate the energy field could be extremely painful, forming an effective prison. Several portals showed where the ore carts were rolled up to the loading docks. The landscape was generally dry despite the many trees growing on the hillsides.

The two-story brick guardhouse was still there, though the ground floor meeting room offered a few more comforts. A tall spiked gate prevented unauthorized departures from the compound, reminding Dogra that she was visiting a slave camp.

Dogra saw Shalli waiting for her just inside the fence wearing a simple brown dress and sandals. The sentry on duty opened the iron gate and then locked it after Dogra passed through. Frontra joined her.

"Sherra's blessing on the morning," Frontra said, in full uniform with several weapons attached to her belt.

"And to you, Frontra. Are you my escort?"

"It must be so. Not all of the animals are tame," Frontra replied, though by her manner, Dogra suspected the senior guard of harboring a secret resentment.

"Greetings, Lady Gamtra," Shalli called out, waving as Dogra crossed the line of yellow stones into the compound.

"Hello, Shalli. No friends, this morning?" Dogra asked.

"They have quotas, mistress. We can meet them at the midday meal," Shalli explained.

Quotas, Dogra thought. And here I thought to meet a crowd of admiring food creatures vying for my attention.

They walked toward the first of the camps, Dogra and Shalli side by side with Frontra trailing behind. They passed Rabbit Camp, now constructed of timber huts with thatched roofs, and entered the gardens at the southern end of the lake, now larger due to the extended irrigation.

"These are the old gardens," Shalli said. "Mostly used by Ferret and Deer Camps. Rabbit Camp spends its time down at the river with the newcomers."

"Newcomers?" Dogra asked, watching as Shalli turned the irrigated soil over to show the richness.

Shalli pointed to the north end of the lake where the foothills around Wolf Camp gave way to the valley. Just beyond the gap, near the first of the farms leading down to the river, was a large village.

"They are all new, gathered from other camps. Some from the desert camps. Some from the old processing center. They were so frightened when they came here. So naked and hungry. They thought they were going to the pens. Now they have homes. Warm clothes for the winter. Their little ones thrive. My Ben gave them this. My Ben and your Baron Gamtro," Shalli said, her voice quivering with emotion.

Shalli looked up at Dogra, making sure the great Arikhan lady understood the gratefulness in her heart. Gradually, Dogra did come to understand, and it helped explain why the food creatures were so eager to please her. It was not fear, or subservience, as she initially assumed. At least on Shalli's part, it was genuine appreciation.

There were many women working the gardens, tilling the soil and clearing ditches to bring water down from the windmill driven pumps near the lake. Some young boys and girls were fishing. The work was hard but the laborers looked content. None stopped to greet the visitors, but several did nod in their direction.

Shalli took Dogra to a two-story stone building on the west side of the lake where a council tent had once stood years before. The simple structure had windows facing east to the lake and west toward the mines. A single wooden door opened on a broad porch from the south side. A dozen chairs and nearly fifty stools were in the immediate area. Dogra saw an outside staircase that accessed the second floor.

"Our home is on the ground," Shalli explained. "My husband has his office in the sky. Would you care to sit until meal time?"

"Thank you, Shalli," Dogra said, following her inside. Frontra took a seat on the porch as one accustomed to being there.

The interior of the stone house was a shock. Dogra had seen several huts at Rabbit Camp with their primitive wicker furniture and straw-covered floors. This building resembled an Arikhan dwelling, with sanded wood floorboards, a colorful throw rug, and a well-designed dining table with eight chairs. A brick fireplace was usable for warmth or cooking, though a cast iron stove in a nearby alcove served a small kitchen. There was even running water from a corner sink.

In the rear, sectioned off by red curtains, was a sleeping chamber with a large bed. The comfortable living room had canvas paintings on the walls.

Dogra stopped to take a closer look at the paintings. They were not the usual landscapes. One showed a lonely lunar outpost on a desolate meteor-pocked plain. Another featured a dangerous asteroid belt perilously close to an unsuspecting planet. The largest had a stunning starfield being drawn into an unforgiving black hole. Even the smaller paintings had poignant, almost wistful yearnings emerging from comparatively simple images. Dogra stared at the paintings for a long time, moved by the deep feelings they invoked.

"Such strength. Such emotion. No one here could have painted these. Where did they come from?" Dogra asked.

"My husband paints them. He was working so many hours, the leaders conspired with Baron Gamtro to make him take recreations. Do you find them interesting, mistress?"

Dogra could tell Shalli was not impressed, either with the forms or the subjects. A culture accustomed to fertility totems could hardly understand the great contrasts between Sherra's all-encompassing universe and the fragility of individual mortality.

"Shalli, these are superb works of art. Not the work of a master, of course, but highly evocative," Dogra said.

"I am sure Ben would want you to have one. If it were my choice, you could have them all. They frighten me. I think there are dark spirits in the worlds he sees."

"That is the beauty of them, child. And I would very much like to have one. Let us wait until the males return from their hunting trip. We will speak of it again."

Before long, women arrived to start cooking fires, many setting up near the lake. With them were babies and young children. Many women had more than one child to care for, sharing their duties.

As introductions were made, Dogra noticed the majority of women were far more reserved than Shalli. Respectful, but not trusting. They were not overwhelmed by the Lady Gamtra's exalted status in a society they knew nothing of, but most did express gratitude for her mate's generosity.

Their reserve did not extend to Frontra, who babysat several infants while their mothers prepared food. Dogra saw it was a duty Frontra eagerly accepted.

"I am sorry the people were not more friendly, mistress," Shalli said as they walked back to the main gate late in the afternoon.

"They were friendlier than I expected, child. This has been a very informative day. Your mines. Your farms. The dwellings. All are interesting. I wish more of my people could see Karak. It would open many eyes."

"What do you mean, mistress?"

"It is hard to explain. Perhaps another time," Dogra said, not wanting to confuse her with false hopes.

"Here is the gate, Lady Gamtra. I have duties on the north side," Frontra said, taking her leave.

"Thank you, Frontra. I shall commend your service to Baron Gamtro."

Frontra lowered her eye-rings and left, walking casually toward Rabbit Camp. Dogra noticed the ease with which she strolled through the camps, her authority based on respect rather than fear. There was a lesson there.

Dogra and Shalli went to the iron gate guarding the entrance, stopping just short of the sentry booth. Two guards, both new to the compound, came to attention. Shalli stopped short at the line of yellow rocks. Dogra looked at her with a question.

"This is as far as I am allowed, mistress," Shalli explained.

"Thank you, Shalli, you are a dear. You have brought joy to my day," Dogra said.

"You are welcome, mistress," Shalli answered, bowing her head.

Dogra acknowledged the guards as she passed through the gate, again feeling a cold shadow creep through her as she walked beneath the imposing brick arch. She turned to look at Shalli standing in the fading afternoon light with the slave camp behind her. The small creature looked so alone. So vulnerable. It would take nothing more than an angry guard, or a hungry one, to extinguish the light in those beautiful blue eyes, and not a law in the Empire would protect her. Suddenly Dogra felt a sense of foreboding, and an empathy that never would have occurred to her only a few days before. She turned back.

"Shalli, I feel lonely with the males gone. Would you keep me company until they return?" Dogra asked.

"It would be an honor, mistress, but I should gather something more appropriate to wear," Shalli answered, holding out the plain skirt of her work dress with embarrassment.

"Do not fret, child. I have plenty of material and a sewing kit. We will entertain ourselves by making a civilized outfit for you."

Shalli's face brightened with a smile as she rushed to the gate, jumping through to Dogra's side as the guards made way for her. Dogra experienced a unique satisfaction from Shalli's excitement and wondered if her fondness for Shalli was anything like the fondness Gamtro felt for Ben. She suspected it was. And she suspected it could make life very complicated for all of them.

* * * * * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Grey asked as he and Gamtro disembarked from the hovering sho'kara.

"It has been done often. Not so much on this world, but on my home world," Gamtro said, removing his backpack from the hovercraft's cargo compartment and taking a second backpack for Grey.

The small cargo transport was bouncing lightly on four support jets, a powerful gyroscope aiding an anti-gravity effect. The side hatch allowed movement in and out of the craft without actually landing. Grey took his backpack and stepped back as Gamtro waved the vehicle off.

"Do not worry. It will be back in two days. We may enjoy this primitive planet without fear of civilization," Gamtro said.

"We are a hundred sectors southeast of the camp. Are you sure you will not get lost?"

"I am sure," Gamtro said.

"You did not take a communicator."

"I do not need a communicator."

"None of your people stray this far from your colonies. What if there is an emergency?"

"We have a compass, a medical kit, and weapons. What could happen that is beyond your abilities to combat?" Gamtro asked.

"You show much faith, my friend, but what if I am the one who gets injured?" Grey laughed.

"Then I will wander the forest and die, but I will wander the forest and die in good company," Gamtro said with clicks of amusement.

They watched the sho'kara as it disappeared to the west over a low range of mountains. An unseasonable frost had left the mountaintops white with snow. Grey unleashed the long bow from his shoulder to nock the string, then helped Gamtro with his bow. Both were dressed in hunting leathers with tall brown boots and broad felt hats.

"Try not to shoot me in the back this time," Grey said.

"I did not shoot you in the back. I missed by several claws," Gamtro protested.

"You missed by several teeth."

"Maybe we should look for a campsite instead of debating trivial accidents," Gamtro suggested.

They walked down from the rock hilltop where the hovercraft had paused, finding a wooded glen near a shallow creek. They dropped their backpacks and Grey started setting up camp.

"I will erect the tent," Gamtro said.

"Let me do it," Grey replied.

"I can do it," Gamtro insisted.

"It will fall down if you do it."

"You are not here to be my servant."

"If the tent falls on you, it falls on me too," Grey pointed out.

"That is true about many things, is it not?"

"What falls on who lies in Sherra's providence. At least I can set up the tent," Grey answered, opening the carrying bag and laying out the polymer poles.

Gamtro gathered materials for a fire, piled rocks for containment, and used his great strength to drag logs nearby to sit on. By the time Grey had erected the tent, Gamtro was making vegetable stew over a small fire.

"What do you think of Dogra?" Gamtro asked.

"She is very intelligent. For an Arikhan."

"You do not trust her."

"Your mate is an attaché for the ministry. The Empire is troubled, looking for scapegoats. I do not know enough about your politics to understand all, but we tread dangerous ground. It is hard to trust anyone with so much unknown."

"You must understand that in our culture, Dogra and I are one. We may disagree, but betrayal is impossible. What I tell her stays between us," Gamtro said.

"I have no doubt she is a fine mate. I find her very open-minded for one of your species. But time is not our friend. We have enjoyed several good years. We should have two more. After that, anything may happen."

"I could gain the governorship," Gamtro said.

"Did Dogra agree?"

"No, she thought the effort would fail," Gamtro admitted.

"Dogra is right. It would be foolish to endanger your career for a lost cause. You have learned much. Learned the need for change. One day you will win a governorship, maybe even rise to the High Ministry itself. On that day, you will be able to help more than a few thousand slaves on a forgotten world."

"You have also learned much. Working together has brought both of us new wisdom," Gamtro said.

Grey grew quiet, listening to the forest around them. Looking up at the tall green pine trees and hearing the babbling creek. Feeling an ancient freedom.

"If Sherra chooses to replace you with a generous heart, what we have built may thrive," Grey said. "But if there is a reaction to your practices, as I suspect there will be, then you alone will carry the lesson."

"I do not understand your words," Gamtro said.

"You will," Grey replied, stirring the cooking fire with a stick.

"Dogra would understand, would she not?" Gamtro asked.

"I suspect she will," Grey said, eating his stew without tasting it. "Gamtro, the laws of your Empire are very strict. Exceptions are difficult, but if there is a way, I would have you take Shalli away at the end of your term. Make her a servant on your estate, or a pet, or whatever is required. Do not leave her at Karak."

"If it comes to that, I will take both of you," Gamtro said.

"That will never happen. Everyone knows about Gamtro's pet food creature. Some even suspect I influence production. If they research my records, it might be more complicated than that. Shalli is merely a female. No one cares what happens to her."

"My people are not renowned for their record keeping."

"So far I have been lucky, but one day someone will grow curious. It surprises me you never asked more questions."

Gamtro's interest was aroused by this admission.

"All these years we have labored together, you have never mentioned your past. Never hinted it should be investigated. Why do you challenge me now?"

"Dogra appears fond of Shalli. She has power. If something is going to happen to me, maybe it should happen while Shalli can still find protection. We have accomplished much together. Given time, we can do more. But if my time runs out today, it will not be a tragedy."

"It would be to me," Gamtro said, clicking his tongue softly with indignation. "And to a thousand others who love you. And to millions who have not learned of our work, and need to learn of it, for the sake of your people and for mine. You wrong my species to underestimate yourself in this way."

"I mean no disrespect. If you knew all, you might feel differently," Grey said, sorry he had made the baron angry.

Gamtro glanced about the forest also. Seeing the same trees, the same creek, though with less yearning for the freedoms they offered, having sufficient freedom already. But the habit of looking for eavesdroppers was a necessary habit.

"What's wrong?" Grey asked.

"None will find your records. Those fools on the Link never classified them properly, and the Link was destroyed by marauders a year later. Every record you have ever generated is classified under my ancestral seal."

"I do not understand."

"Yes, you do. You do not trust me enough to say it."

"I confess you are right," Grey said with some embarrassment.

"Then let me say it. Years ago, before Ben became a slave of the Arikhan, you were known by another name. You were commander of the fleet that opposed our invasion of Sol. You were personally responsible for the destruction of Bellerophon and her crew."

Grey leaned back, astonished. The bowl dipped so low in his hand that Gamtro had to catch it before the contents spilled.

"How long have you known?" Grey asked.

"After the day I held the knife to your throat, and you held a knife to mine, I started a search. It took six seasons to find the answers. It does not speak well for our intelligence service that they failed to put such obvious data together. It took another season to gather all your records. After that, there was nothing to investigate. And there never will be."

"You have not said anything."

"Neither have you."

"What should I say? That I have slain hundreds of your warriors?"

"That is where you do not understand, my friend. It is true there are forces that would seek vengeance. Others, like myself, know you fought to protect your people. Just as we fight to protect our people. Since coming to Akrona, you have not waged war against us. You have sought to protect your adopted people. Cooperated to build mutual advantages. And you have served me well under thankless circumstances. Do you think me unaware of the criticism you receive from your own kind? Am I unaware of the riches you produce while demanding nothing for yourself?"

"You shame me," Grey said, confessing he had not thought Gamtro so insightful.

"You are not shamed. You have strong reasons to keep your past secret. I suspect even Shalli knows nothing. The precaution is wise. I have never told anyone. But know I am not your friend out of ignorance."

"I would have gone to the pens years ago if not for you. Never think that is not understood," Grey said.

"If you had gone to the pens, I would still be an arrogant Sarden Leader without wealth or prospects. Never think that is not understood."

"Are we going sit around all day or go hunting?"

"You do not eat the game."

"I cook it for my friend. That is good enough."

"Before we go, there is a question that has always puzzled me," Gamtro said. "You were seen to be killed when the molecule weapon destroyed Bellerophon. Your sacrifice was captured on visual recordings and replayed many times. Why were you not killed? How did you reach the Laros stargate?"

"You ask a good question. Many years have I pondered this problem and still only have an unproved theory," Grey said.

"I enjoy unproved theories. They provide distraction during the quiet hours."

"Do you understand the energy fields used to protect your battleships?"

"I know that weapons cannot penetrate them," Gamtro said.

"Bellerophon was protected by a negative energy envelope generated by a step-two variable reactor," Grey explained. "A negative envelope diverts potentially destructive levels of energy into subspace dimensions. I floated through this screen carrying a deactivated nuclear warhead, allowing the shock to disrupt my central nervous system. After the biological nature of my wiring allowed me to recover, I cranked a generator to charge the warhead's battery and set the detonator."

"Is it true you activated the warhead manually?"

"I had no choice. Garthon discovered my presence on the hull and sent Varbatro to stop me. There wasn't enough time to set the timer and jump free as I hoped."

"But you must have been close to the explosion?"

"Within meters. Seconds before the warhead exploded, the ship suddenly increased rotation, throwing me off. I must have been inside the negative energy field at the moment of detonation. The explosion tore a hole in the subspace fabric where all atomic particles have a resonance signature. If my theory is correct, I was carried along with debris as it sought its original resonance source. I emerged through a stargate where the signatures were strongest."

"Laros. Bellerophon was built of minerals from this star system," Gamtro realized.

"That is my theory," Grey confirmed.

"It is a good theory. Astrophysics is not my highest skill, but I once commanded a destroyer escort. Stargate management is a mandatory study. There is one problem with your theory."

"More than one. Which have you selected?" Grey asked.

"Twelve hundred light years is far beyond the range of any known stargate," Gamtro said. "Assuming such a length could be traveled, you would spend months, perhaps years in a sub-dimensional state. In what manner could you be resurrected after so long a journey?"

"I have no answer, my friend. I lack the research to answer your question."

"Then we have much to contemplate," Gamtro said, gathering his bow and a quiver of arrows. "But let me suggest a solution that might elude you."

"A suggestion would be welcome," Grey granted.

"You do much for your people. Much that might one day return prosperity to my people. Perhaps Sherra has a plan for you."

Grey thought Gamtro was correct about one thing. It was an answer that would have eluded him.

After a day stalking through lush green meadows, the two hunters returned to their camp with a pair of rabbits. Gamtro skinned and cleaned the kills while Grey started a fire in the rock pit.

"You should have let me shoot the big meat creature," Gamtro said, finding the rabbits skinny.

"We are hunting elk and deer, not horses," Grey said.

"They have more meat than elk."

"Tougher meat, too. Your old teeth could not chew it."

"By Arikhan standards, I am not so much older than you, and my teeth chew well. You did not want to kill them."

"On my world horses are used for work and recreation. Sometimes they are eaten, but not often. My first wife loved horses. She rode them often. I even went riding with her on a few occasions."

"Rode? On the creature's back?"

"I do not recommend it. They are fierce animals," Grey said.

"How would a horse work?" Gamtro asked.

"Normally they are put in a leather harness to pull things. Wagons, plows. Even trolleys," Grey remembered.

"We have trouble bringing timber down from the slopes. Could horses be used for this purpose?"

"Gamtro, that is quite a leap in imagination for you," Grey complemented.

"Imagination does not come easy, but I learn. Each season the practice grows easier."

"To answer your question, horses would be much better than man-hauling, but they need to be cared for. They require food, training, and pastures. We don't have enough space in the camp for a ranch."

"Again I hear ranch. Dogra spoke of ranch also. What is a ranch?" Gamtro asked.

"Your people must have ranches?" Grey questioned.

"So I am told, but I am unaware of their operations."

"Well, excuse the poor analogy, but a ranch is like a slave camp but without the gross mismanagement. Animals are kept within designated areas. The best animals are kept for breeding. Some are used for producing products. Wool, milk, eggs, meat. If you eat all of your animals, as the Arikhan have done on too many worlds, you lose your reproductive stock. That is why good management is so important."

"Like what we are attempting with the buffalo, only on a larger scale. I understand now. I also understand that preying upon sentient beings is unnecessary. There are other ways for the Empire's needs to be met."

Gamtro watched for Grey's reaction. He expected Grey to boldly support the supposition. Criticize the Arikhan for their bloodlust. Grey merely shrugged in a manner that confirmed Gamtro's opinion.

"Are you not angered that so many die unnecessarily? Do you not hate us for it?" Gamtro asked, eye-rings bent in question.

"I might, if food was the only issue," Grey said.

"Explain," Gamtro demanded.

"Your people destroy the populations of conquered worlds for food, but also to make room for colonization. My people have much experience with this. A long history of genocidal practices. It is said a conqueror named Genghis Khan once massacred millions of harmless peasants to make grazing land for his war horses. We often kill those who oppose us. We clear the land of inconvenient inhabitants and rationalize the immorality of it. We even eat sentient creatures that are less evolved than ourselves. Do not feel badly, Gamtro. You may belong to a bloodthirsty culture, but at least you are not hypocrites."

"You do not approve of genocide. You despise it."

"Wasting so much potential is never good," Grey agreed.

"Do you want your people to be better than they are?"

"Yes, I would rather mankind was a more noble species."

"Then we have much in common. Like you, I have come to think the killing of sentient creatures is wrong. Creatures who could be our friends, as you are my friend, should not be food. I would also belong to a nobler species."

Grey heard the sincerity in Gamtro's voice. The pain of realizing the suffering his civilization was inflicting, and knowing he was part of it.

"It is what I have long suspected. At heart, you are a better soul than I am," Grey decided. Gamtro leaned back in surprise. He did not believe Grey's opinion correct.

After their meal, Gamtro and Grey settled down with a bottle of bruno and watched the stars, speculating on which ones had the most importance. It was near sack time when they heard a noise in the dark forest around them, the cracking of a fallen tree branch. Grey stood first, studying the woods with one hand on his hunting knife, an iron skillet in the other. Gamtro was just getting up when a soft shuffling of leaves increased the alarm.

"Get down, back from the fire," Grey said, listening carefully for movement.

Gamtro didn't obey the instruction, moving forward with a claw on his holstered pistol. Then, as he motioned to draw the weapon, a flat shape spun out of the darkness, flying with deadly force right at Gamtro's throat. Grey dove over a fallen log and raised the skillet, deflecting the object at the last second. When Gamtro knelt to pick the object up, Grey pushed him down and sat on him.

Another weapon whirled by, the aim high and wide. A warning? Grey wondered. There was more rustling in the bushes, then silence.

"Stay," Grey whispered, disappearing into the forest.

Gamtro stayed down for a moment, then drew the pistol and straightened up. The air-charged pellet gun was capable of firing with deadly force, but with Grey lost in the darkness, how could he tell friend from foe?

Gamtro retreated to the tent, kneeling just off to the side in the shadows. He wasn't afraid, but didn't want to be a target either. A cloud layer moved in, cutting off the stars and leaving the forest black. Better known for their sense of smell than their night vision, the Arikhan was forced to sit quietly while scanning the area.

After half an hour, Gamtro grew angry at Grey for leaving without permission, wondering if he was following the intruders or lying dead someplace. Not until the second hour did Grey struggle back to camp. His jacket was torn by his dash through the woods. His hat was lost but he didn't appear hurt.

"I am displeased," Gamtro said.

"There were four of them," Grey reported, weary from a strenuous hike. "Bipeds, but I do not think they were apes. Fast, too. I lost them at the lake."

"You should not be chasing phantoms," Gamtro said.

"That boomerang was no phantom," Grey said, looking around the camp. The weapon was not there, only ashes in the fire where Gamtro had thrown it.

"They were phantoms. Do not speak of them again."

"Are you not curious?"

"There is nothing to be curious about. Pockets of primitives litter this world's remote areas. Special teams spent many years tracking them down. They even used slaves to lure them into traps. After a time, the primitives began killing the slaves. We burned the forests. You will ignore them. That is an order."

Grey sensed this was a sensitive issue. Precisely why could only be guessed. And it wasn't worth angering Gamtro over.

"It never happened," Grey said. "Let us get a few hours sleep and try our luck with the bows. I found a deer trail that looks fresh."

Gamtro accepted the change of subject without comment. The only alternative would be to obey his standing orders. Kill primitives whenever possible. And kill any slave who sees them.

* * * * * *

We are nearing the end of Slave of Akrona. Part 8 is a short chapter, while the concluding chapters 9 and