Slave of Akrona Part Six

by G. Lawrence

The slave camps must now find a new direction

This science fiction novel features romance but is light on erotic content. It's the story of a young soldier 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.

* * * * * *

Chapter Six

SURPRISES

Grey had predicted the spring season correctly. There was excitement during the final weeks as each camp looked forward to making quota, some with double digit surpluses. With extra help in the fields, and Grey's new windmill driving the water pumps, the gardens produced a food surplus as well. But it didn't mean everyone was happy.

Where a temporary council tent once stood at the southwest edge of the lake, a timber frame cabin with a shingle roof was now used for meetings. A long pinewood table was set with nine chairs, one for each camp leader, one for Black Hands, and one for Grey. A chair Grey rarely used.

"Ben should be at these gatherings," Old Ravo demanded, scratching his shaggy gray beard with one hand and holding a cup of mauck in the other.

"We don't need him. His ways are strange," the new leader of Wolf Camp said, a tough miner with large hands and an angry glare. "And the explosive chemicals are dangerous. They shouldn't be allowed."

"Your resentment is clear, Birner. Ben broke the power of your camp, but he's also helped," Nole said.

"If he doesn't want the honor of this table, let him stay away," Birner insisted.

"Ben hasn't done anything for Rabbit Camp," Kaylo said, a thin older woman with stringy gray hair.

"What is there to do? All you do is move ore through the gate and prowl the gardens like field mice. None of you work," Ravo said.

"Our work is hard. No one appreciates Rabbit Camp," Kaylo lamented.

The other leaders laughed at her.

"Ben hasn't attended a meeting since the two moons. Does anyone know why?" Jarten asked, searching Clagg for an answer.

"Ben doesn't feel he belongs at this table. He's not a camp leader. He's not a healer of the people like Black Hands," Clagg explained.

"Maybe he just doesn't want responsibility," Eck grumbled. "We couldn't get a quarry at Squirrel Camp, so we tunnel instead. The tunnel Ben made could be better."

"Our tunnel should be better, too. We have lost property to make up for," Birner complained.

"He spends too much time in the gardens with the women," Eck protested. "Why irrigate so many new fields? There's nothing wrong with the old ones."

"Our quarry is good, but it won't last the year. He should spend more time searching for ore. Less time etching with those damn pencils," Ravo said.

"Should we vote?" Kaylo asked.

"Vote on what? What's the question?" Clagg asked.

"There is no question, only ungrateful camps who want unearned rewards," Nole said.

"You have a quarry. The best one," Eck replied.

"Your surpluses outweigh ours combined," Birner whined.

"The northern camps are not well served. What does Raven Camp think?" Jarten asked.

Sitting at the head of the table with Black Hands on her left, Sharlot looked at the men with disdain. Her reaction was noted.

"What's wrong?" Nole asked.

"You men sicken me. Send your women here next week so we can get something accomplished," Sharlot replied.

"What female insurrection provokes this?" Ravo asked with a condescending grin.

"Which camp does Ben belong to?" Sharlot asked, letting her long hair drop as she leaned forward. Her low cut tunic was a momentary distraction.

"All know it is Ferret Camp," Jarten said.

"How much time has Ben spent at Ferret Camp's quarry this season?" Black Hands asked, sharing Sharlot's contempt.

"Very little," Clagg said, the issue a well-known sore point.

"How can Ben spend time at Ferret Camp while working at all the other camps? And preparing explosives? And exploring the mountain for new ore?" Sharlot said. "What gratitude have you shown him? What compensation have you given Ferret Camp for his services?"

"Sharlot speaks what many women in the camps feel," Black Hands said, her dark eyes staring down the table. "Shalli cries because she thinks Ben is leaving her camp. He works all day, often without rest. While you men are at the campfires singing songs and sharing the day's troubles, he labors through the night with his strange drawings."

"And the masters watch him too closely. You have all seen it," Sharlot elaborated. "He's smarter than they are. A good fighter. They fear he may turn the workers against them. Ben would be wiser to stay at Ferret Camp, mate with Shalli, and sleep when the sun goes down as we do. Instead, he risks much to help our camps. Your ingratitude is outrageous. Am I a fool to expect more?"

"I've spoken of this to Ben. So has Myra. We want him to take a mate and settle down," Clagg said.

"Court and I have spoken as well. We've asked Tak and Barris to speak to him. If you wish to vote, let's vote that Ben must stay within his own quarry from now on," Nole suggested.

"You would like that, wouldn't you? Then only your camps would make quota," Birner said, eyeing Nole with jealousy, for many thought Deer Camp was growing strong at Wolf Camp's expense.

"You argue over nothing," Ravo suddenly shouted, his great fist pounding the table and making the cups fly. "Ben will do as he finds necessary. Always has it been so. But there's a truth here. I, myself, will find a way of showing appreciation."

"Like when you tried selling him to Marne?" Jarten asked.

Ravo's face grew red and he lunged across the table, arms outstretched, but Jarten jumped back out of reach. Clagg and Nole helped restrain Ravo until he calmed.

"We'll all make quota this season," Sharlot said. "The masters may give us a three-day holiday to celebrate. Let's make this a happy time for our camps. Let's not ask for more than Sherra gives."

"Blessings on Sherra," many at the table whispered.

After the meeting, Sharlot went to Clagg and Nole before they reached the south trail.

"Will there be any surprises at the harvest celebration?" Sharlot asked.

"I think Barris will have a surprise for Tak," Nole said. "Not long ago, I would have said no, but he's changed. It will be a good match."

"They're welcome to join Raven Camp if they want a new start," Sharlot offered.

"If there's a surprise, Barris has asked if he and Tak can join Ferret Camp. They have many friends among my people," Clagg mentioned.

"No surprises coming from Ferret Camp? Shalli must be well into her eighteenth year by now," Sharlot asked.

"I don't know. Shalli is nervous," Clagg said. "We haven't seen much of Ben lately. He's spends much time on the mountain searching for new mines."

"If there is a surprise, Raven Camp would like to make gifts," Sharlot said. "Our quarry is good and will last a long time. And we haven't forgotten what he did for us the night the wolves died."

"I'll let Ben know. It's good to have gifts when starting a new life," Clagg said. "Do you really think the masters may take Ben from us?"

"It would be best if he doesn't attract too much attention. Dhartro makes many inquiries, as does Romtra," Sharlot advised.

"Nabbatron, too," Nole mentioned. "What of Frontra?"

"Many times have I seen Ben and Frontra speaking. I don't think it's a bad thing," Clagg guessed.

"I hope you're right," Sharlot said.

* * * * * *

"There you are. No one has seen you in days," Shalli said, finding Grey in his old forest hiding place near Ferret Camp's quarry. The trees were tall enough and the brush thick enough to ensure privacy. The small rock damn holding back the pond steadily trickled water. Nearby, a fire was heating a pail of rocks for the sweat lodge.

"Many people have seen me," Grey disagreed. "I spent the morning at Raven Camp. Black Hands and I plan to build an infirmary in the maple grove. And I've started a new irrigation system in the meadow below Sparrow Camp. The soil there is rich. Eck also wanted me to take another look for a quarry, but the ore deposits above Squirrel Camp are poor. He's very unhappy."

"But Ferret Camp is your home. This is where you belong," Shalli insisted.

Finding the rocks hot enough, Grey used a pole to move the pail to the sweat lodge, setting it down just inside the door. Shalli waited for a response that he seemed reluctant to give.

Grey initially hesitated to undress, but when Shalli stripped down to nothing and crawled in ahead of him, he sighed and took off his clothes. Though casual nudity was not a custom in his home culture, the slaves of Karak could rarely afford such modesty.

"Don't you think I'm pretty anymore?" Shalli asked, raising her arms above her head as the first clouds of steam filled the tent. Her fresh young skin tingled in the flush of heat.

"There's no doubt you're pretty," Grey was forced to agree.

"Then what's wrong? You can't say I'm a child anymore."

"I have many more years than you. By Karak standards, I'm almost an old man."

"You're not so old. Why don't you tell me the truth?" Shalli pressed.

Grey poured a little more water on the rocks and leaned back on a grass bale to enjoy the steam. Shalli is right, he decided. She deserves the truth. Some of it.

"Shalli, I care for you. I care for you very much. But a mating wouldn't be fair. Someday the masters will find out who I am. When they do, they'll take me away. Even if they don't, marrying you would still be wrong. I already have a wife."

"A wife? pressed.? Where? Not someone in Raven Camp?"

"No, not in Raven Camp. On the world where I came from."

"But you haven't seen her in years, and you can never go back. Isn't that what you said? That you can never go back? How can she still be your wife if you'll never see her again?"

"We're still married. The distance doesn't matter."

"Your people think you're dead, don't they? You told me that once. You said everyone thinks you're dead, and even you sometimes think it's true."

"I'm sure they believe I was killed," Grey admitted.

"And the one who was your wife, she thinks you're dead, too?"

"Without doubt."

"Then she might have remarried already. Isn't it true that she might have a new mate? Doesn't your culture permit such a thing?"

"I hope she found someone. She's too young to live the rest of her life alone."

"So are you," Shalli said, leaning over to kiss him.

Grey gently pushed her back, though Shalli suspected he did so reluctantly.

"What was she like? Was she anything like me?" Shalli asked.

He laughed, thought the question over, and laughed again. Shalli frowned, her lip curled in a pout.

"You're being mean," Shalli complained.

"I don't wish to be, but it's funny."

"Tell me why it's funny," she demanded.

"Because you have almost nothing in common. She's a soldier. A butt-kicking, in-your-face fire-eater. She graduated from a famous naval college and won many awards for heroism. She's got black hair, blazing green eyes, and shoulders straight as Sharlot's. And she has a mouth on her that could shame a sailor. I've heard language that's left me blushing."

"And I'm just a stupid little slave girl," Shalli said. "I've never been to a school. Never held a weapon. Myra doesn't even like me to raise my voice. Is that why you don't want me? Because I'm not good enough?"

"You can't think that. Not ever," he said, pulling her into his arms. "It's not that I wouldn't want you if things were different. My wife could be very sweet, but you're lovable. She's an educated woman, but in many ways, you're just as smart. And you both care deeply about things that are important. Probably more than I do. You have nothing to be ashamed of. On my world, there would be legions of men fighting to be your mate. I might even be one of them."

Shalli rested her head against Grey's chest as he stroked her long soft hair. His touch was gentle. Sad. Shalli sensed that he still loved the wife he would never see again, but suspected something else was bothering him. Something that had nothing to do with a lost woman from his mysterious past.

"Why would the masters take you away?" Shalli suddenly asked.

Grey was surprised by her question, though on reflection, he realized it was a possibility he never should have revealed. Shalli could be very intuitive, and once again she had picked up on a careless comment.

"We were enemies in a war," he said, hoping she would drop the subject.

"The masters have lots of enemies. What makes you so special?" she asked, suddenly sensing his reluctance was more serious than he pretended.

Grey lingered on her question. He had been Ben ever since the night Clagg was injured, from the middle name of Benjamin given to him by the father he never knew. But his real name was too dangerous to reveal. It always would be. He wasn't prepared to put Shalli in harm's way.

"Maybe I'll seek a new mate someday, when I'm ready. But that might be a long time from now. You shouldn't wait," Grey urged.

"That's for me to decide," Shalli replied.

She leaned up to kiss him, and this time he returned her kiss, though not with the enthusiasm she hoped for.

Grey had not been on Ferret Camp's mountain for more than a month. The star chart he had carved on the limestone cliff was weathered but still readable, the calculations revealing the convoluted descriptions of three-dozen star systems. One of the star systems was the place of his birth, where a minor moon orbited a minor planet orbiting a minor sun. He remembered being close to tears the day the chart was finally completed, but those days were gone now, replaced with new responsibilities.

There was a noise in the brush, too loud to be a small animal. The experiences of Grey's youth caused him to reach for a sidearm that wasn't there. But this wasn't the land of his youth; it was a weed-covered hillside on a warm spring day twelve hundred light-years from home.

"Be not alarmed, half-meat," Frontra said, emerging from the overgrown trail. Grey relaxed, not that he would have fought any of the guards.

"Welcome, Frontra. What brings you to my camp?" Grey inquired.

Frontra clicked her tongue in amusement.

"When did a cave of dead leaves become a camp?" Frontra asked.

"When did the masters begin to inspect caves of dead leaves?"

"I inspect nothing. I seek the impertinent food creature who causes endless controversy."

"He's not here right now, but I'll gladly take a message," Grey said.

Frontra clicked her tongue even more rapidly, demonstrating how much she appreciated the jest.

"Mauck?" Grey asked, producing a clay jug.

Frontra took a seat on a flat rock next to Grey where they could look at the star chart. Though not an astronomer, she had no trouble deciphering the basic patterns.

"Which system holds your world?" Frontra asked.

Grey poured a generous amount of mauck into his cup, gave the cup to Frontra, and kept the jug for himself.

"It is better we not talk of it," he said.

Frontra glanced at him with her large black eyes, her long pale tongue lashing briefly from her thin mouth. Her posture didn't change, but Grey knew she was curious.

"It must be far away," Frontra guessed.

"All the stars are far away," Grey answered.

"For a slave, they are far away. Even for a camp guard, the journeys are long. How far away are they for you?"

Grey was intrigued. He and Frontra had spoken of many things. The slave culture. The wolves. Religious philosophy. Arikhan civilization. He could not remember her ever asking such specific questions about his past.

"Are we friends?" Grey asked.

"To the extent our positions allow."

"Then tell me why you make such delicate inquiries?"

"I ask because I think you are far away from home. Perhaps too far to ever return. Do I think falsely?"

"You do not."

"Then why must you hesitate?"

"Hesitate?"

Frontra took a deep breath of the warm air before raising her slender chin. Her eye-rings rose with obvious pique. Her brown cheeks gathered the slightest trace of gray. She was not angry, but she was annoyed. Grey refilled her cup.

"You give the food creatures courage, Ben," Frontra explained. "You have wisdom cherished by Sherra. Knowledge that brings wealth. Strength in times of crisis. Yet you stand aside from your people. How can they embrace your unique faith if you refuse to be one of them?"

"Pardon me, mistress, but your words are dangerous. What are you suggesting?" Grey asked with alarm.

"Not insurrection, if that is what troubles you. But I know, to the depth of Sherra's Soul, that exploiting sentient life as we do is an abomination. Our empire must change. It must be inspired to change. For change to occur, the food creatures must prove they are not food creatures. As you have."

"I am sorry, Frontra, but you do speak of insurrection. Well do I know the Arikhan temperament. To even hint of the changes you suggest would send me to the pens and take much of Ferret Camp with me. Let us finish the mauck and say no more about it."

"You do not deny my philosophy. I also glimpse that elusive glimmer in your eyes. The shine that summons old memories. Have you no truth to share?"

Grey took a deep swig from the clay jar. He had always liked Frontra. He had risked his life for her.

"It has been a long time since I shared radical thoughts with one such as yourself," Grey recalled. "You remind me of days long ago where another world struggled with similar challenges. They, too, oppressed slaves in ignorance of Sherra's teachings."

"In what manner were this planet's issues resolved?"

"In blood, my friend Frontra. And the issues were not resolved."

Frontra took a moment to study Grey, attempting to find clues to his thoughts. She had wondered if the planet of his origin had been a violent world, and now she knew.

"Drink deeper of the jug, half-meat. I surpass you," Frontra said.

"This is a pleasant day to share good talk, but you still have me in mystery. Why did you seek me out?" Grey asked.

Frontra seemed particularly delighted by his question. And she refused to answer.

That evening, just as the sun was setting, Clagg saw Grey coming down from his old burrow on the mountain. Grey looked tired and troubled.

"Ben, I've been waiting for you," Clagg said.

After washing off in the shallow creek below the old mine, Grey sat for a moment on the sandy embankment. The stars were coming out in force. Clagg thought there was a particular grouping that seemed to have Grey's attention.

"You've had much on your mind lately," Clagg said.

"It seems to always be that way," Grey replied.

"Have you been thinking about a surprise?"

"I've given it consideration."

"Why must you think so much? Shalli loves you. Everyone thinks it's a good match."

"I don't want to hurt Shalli, but I already have a wife," he explained.

"Out there? In the stars?" Clagg asked.

"Yes, out there in the stars. It hurts to know I'll never see her again. I wouldn't want Shalli to feel like that if I suddenly disappear someday. She should find someone else."

"Are you worried about the masters, too?"

"Frontra warns that the Sarden Leader requests frequent reports on my activities."

"I've not heard you suggest rebellion. They have no reason for fear."

"You really don't know me very well, do you?" Grey said, almost smiling.

"No one does, but that isn't our fault."

Grey nodded, the smile disappearing.

"My friend, we live in a slave camp on a conquered world," Clagg lectured. "Life can be short. If you bring Shalli happiness, even for a brief time, wouldn't it be worthwhile? If Shalli can bring you happiness, then it's much earned. Would Shalli make you happy?"

"Of course. She's bright and sassy. And smarter than many think," Grey confessed.

"There's only a week left in the season. Many would like to make gifts. What should I tell those who ask?"

Grey glanced up at the darkening sky, looking toward a star not quite bright enough to be seen in the twilight. Clagg put his on hand on Grey's shoulder.

"The one who was your wife. The one who may still be your wife. Would she want you to be happy?" Clagg asked.

"Yes, she would."

"Then maybe it's time. The life we have here isn't the one you knew, but it still has much to offer," Clagg stressed.

Grey reflected on Clagg's words. And remembered what he had said to his friends those many years ago, when he knew attacking Bellerophon might be his final mission. He urged them to be happy. To move forward. And suddenly he realized why Frontra had come to him on the mountain. Apparently even the Arikhan sentry could see that which he did not.

* * * * * *

A few days before the end of the season, Ferret Camp stopped work early in the afternoon. They were already above quota and didn't want to make the other camps more jealous than necessary. Moved from its old site to be nearer the quarry, the moth-eaten tents were gone now, replaced by sturdy huts. Adjoining the new fire pit was a stone oven for baking bread. Several lanterns hung from tree branches. They soon had visitors.

"How was the surprise?" Myra asked with a grin.

"I was shocked. Who would guess that Barris would choose me?" Tak said, still breathless from the proposal.

Barris smiled, holding Tak's hand. Shalli's eyes were wide with happiness for her friend. She looked down the trail, but it was empty.

"Isn't Ben with you?" Shalli asked.

"Ben is still visiting Deer Camp. There were many unmated women left after I picked Tak," Barris said. "I think some are disappointed. We haven't gone back to Sparrow Camp yet, so our promise isn't confirmed. Because Nole and Ravo aren't on good terms, Ben is going with us. He'll speak on Tak's behalf to my father. There are many unmated women at Sparrow Camp, too. I hear they seek a surprise."

"Ben isn't interested in anyone from Sparrow Camp. Or Deer Camp, either," Shalli said, her chin tucked in.

"Many women want Ben. Gifts have been offered," Myra said.

"No, he doesn't care about gifts," Shalli denied, crossing her arms.

"Raven Camp thinks he should live there," Clagg said off-handedly.

"Ben would never leave Ferret Camp. Would he?" Shalli asked.

"Raven Camp is strong now. And much grateful," Myra said. "Sharlot thinks Ben would make a good match for Black Hands. They build the infirmary together and speak far into the night on ways to help the people. Together they would wield great power."

"Black Hands is old. Old and wrinkled," Shalli protested.

"Black Hands and Ben are the same age, Shalli dear, and she's quite lovely," Myra responded. "Wouldn't such a match benefit Ferret Camp, Clagg?"

"It's something to think about. But first we need to talk. Barris came to me with a question that only the camp can answer."

"We welcome you Barris, friend from Sparrow Camp. Ferret Camp would like to hear your question," Myra said in formal greeting.

Barris stood before the cooking fire where all could see him, holding Tak's hand. He was dressed in his best brown leathers, she wore an attractive blue dress with a long skirt. The late afternoon was warm but not unpleasant. Many of the people sat back in the shade of the trees, though a few children gathered close.

"Tak and I are promised to be mated, but there's a problem," Barris said. "I'm the son of Old Ravo, leader of Sparrow Camp. Tak is daughter to Nole, leader of Deer Camp. Our camps have not always been friendly. Someday Tak and I would like to start our own camp, but until then, we wish to join Ferret Camp where we have many friends."

"It's a good question," Clagg said. "Barris came to me several days ago. Myra would welcome them. Would anyone else welcome them?"

"I would welcome them," Beknar said, standing next to Myra.

"And I," Seenar said, tugging up her long cotton skirt as she rose.

"I also say welcome," Hernet agreed, rising from his stool to show approval.

"I would welcome you," Cot agreed. "But would you still want to live here if Ben goes to Raven Camp?"

"Ben will not go to Raven Camp!" Shalli shouted, causing many to exchange glances.

"Yes, we would still want to live here," Barris said.

"Are you willing to accept the risk?" Clagg asked.

"What risk?" Barris replied.

"Even though you are promised, Tak is still unmated. If we accept you, she'll remain available until the mating ceremony. Someone else may want to surprise her," Myra explained.

"Like Ben, for instance," Cot said, walking around the couple to appraise Tak's attractions, of which there were many. He tugged at her shoulder strap, touched the softness of her hair, and motioned to the men how worthy she would be as a mate.

"Everyone knows Ben loves her greatly," Cot added. "She is beautiful and healthy, with good hips for child bearing. Her father is leader of Deer Camp and well thought of."

"It would be a good match," Seenar agreed.

"Maybe Ben would not want Black Hands if he could mate with Tak and stay here? We could offer gifts," Hernet suggested.

Many nodded. Shalli was not pleased.

"I will accept the risk," Barris said, though he sounded nervous.

"Are there any other questions?" Clagg asked. There were none. "Then it's agreed. If Barris and Tak mate, they will become members of Ferret Camp at the end of season. All will make them welcome."

The congratulations were still being made when Grey appeared on the trail from Deer Camp. He was dressed in a fine deerskin outfit and rawhide boots, a broad brim straw hat, and a new green scarf around his neck. There was a bounce in his stride and a pleased look in his eyes. Many were startled to see him smiling.

"Greetings brothers and sisters of Ferret Camp," Grey said. "Welcome, my friends, Barris and Tak. Deer Camp comes to share a meal with us. They will be here soon."

"Ben, we have told Ferret Camp of the surprise and asked to become members. We have been welcomed," Barris announced.

Grey stepped forward and gripped Barris' arm. Many suspected Barris had become his closest friend, which influenced their decision to accept him.

"Clagg, with my friend Barris soon to be mated, perhaps it's time I choose a mate. What do you think?" Grey asked.

"You're not getting any younger, little brother. Maybe it's time," Clagg agreed. "Ferret Camp has several unmated women. One may be selected if you are worthy."

Grey took off his shirt and rolled up his pants, showing strong lines of hard muscle. For those who remembered the day Frontra had first brought the skin and bones stranger to their camp many seasons before, the transformation seemed remarkable.

"As you see, I am healthy and a good worker," Grey said. "I have helped make quota. There are people who will speak for me."

"All this is known. You are a worthy match," Clagg confirmed.

"Which unmated women are available?" Grey asked, putting his shirt back on.

"There are several," Clagg said, waving his hand.

Shalli, Pie, and Keep quickly lined up near the fire, even though Keep was still a year too young. The younger girls were all smiles. Shalli looked anxious when Grey held back, standing between Cot and Hernet, consulting with them in soft whispers.

"Are there no others?" Grey asked.

"Barris agreed Tak could be selected," Clagg said.

"It's true," Barris acknowledged, releasing Tak's hand and sending her to the group.

Now Shalli grew worried, for all knew Grey and Tak were close friends. Closer than friends. Shalli looked to Tak for a reaction, but Tak appeared pleased to join the group, shaking out her long black hair and opening her top to reveal more cleavage. She fluttered her long eyelashes and dipped her head submissively.

"It's still a small selection," Grey said. "There are four times this number at Raven Camp. Many were the generous offers when I visited there this morning. Sharlot said many want to make gifts."

"If you would like to wait for Deer Camp, Nole has more young women who might be acceptable," Clagg suggested.

Grey sighed with impatience.

"Let me look at these first," Grey opted, going to Pie and then Keep.

The young women flashed shy smiles and looked down, their cheeks flushing. Then Grey went to Shalli, looked at her briefly but with little interest, and went to Tak at the end of the line. When Grey took her hands, Tak smiled with delight, ignoring Shalli's stunned disappointment. Tak whispered in his ear. Grey laughed, his gray eyes sparkling with delight. They hugged, Grey pressing her head into his shoulder with genuine warmth.

"Perhaps the choice isn't so hard after all," Grey conceded, standing back and looking Tak in the eyes. She moistened her lips.

"Have you made a selection?" Clagg asked even as many were looking toward Barris for his reaction. The smile had disappeared from the young man's face, replaced by an apprehensive frown. Shalli saw the frown and felt her heart pounding with trepidation.

"Yes, I've made my selection," Grey said.

"Who will be your mate?" Clagg asked.

"I select Shalli," Grey answered.

"Me? You've picked me? Ben, I love you! I love you so much!" Shalli shouted, leaping into his arms and smothering his face with kisses.

The camp applauded while exchanging suggestive remarks. Tak ran back to Barris, laughing as she gave him a kiss. Clagg and Myra also grinned, looking at others who were enjoying the joke.

"I think she was surprised," Myra said.

* * * * * *

A three-day holiday was granted due to the outstanding success of the spring season, every camp having made quota. Many rewards were expected to make the fall season comfortable.

The camps used the first day of the holiday to relax, enjoy their achievements privately, and prepare for the festivities. By dawn of the second day, tents were appearing at the lake. A great circle was gradually being formalized, white stones marking a ring around the beginnings of a bonfire. The new slate roof on the council cabin was so strong that some used it as an observation platform.

By late morning the camps had arrived and cooking fires were lit. The mating of Tak and Barris created extra excitement, for the children of camp leaders always received more attention than common workers. The mating of Shalli and Ben, though not the children of leaders, was also an event of heightened significance.

By habit rather than design, the men gathered near the council cabin at the edge of the lake while the women prepared for the ceremony at the far end of the circle closer to the woods. Flowers were cut for the two brides as many helped them dress. Myra had never seen Shalli so happy, and Court was proud of her courageous daughter.

"Is it time yet?" Shalli asked.

"Soon, dear," Myra consoled. "Try to calm down. Enjoy the day. Think about First Night."

"Shalli's not waiting for First Night. She's going to drag Ben into the bushes the moment Black Hands mates them," Pie laughed.

"Pie! Don't speak such nasty things," Myra scolded.

"It's true. Isn't it true, Shalli?" Pie said.

"Waiting for dark will be hard," Shalli admitted, showing off the wide cotton skirt Beknar and Seenar had made for her.

Tak was also splendidly dressed and the brides exchanged tokens for the bond they would share.

"You've always been my best friend," Shalli said, giving Tak a red scarf embroidered with strands of silver thread.

"Sharing the mating day makes it more special for me, too," Tak said, giving Shalli a necklace of finely polished stones.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Tak," Shalli responded.

"A fitting gift," Court pronounced, helping Shalli put the necklace on. "Our camp did not struggle as yours did. You lost many good men in the cave-in, and the wolves were ungenerous. Now all will see that Ferret Camp deserves a place of honor."

On the men's side of the circle, mauck was shared and lewd remarks made about First Night. Some agreed with Pie that Shalli might not wait for dark. Grey took the teasing well, as did Barris. Both were handsomely dressed in tanned leather outfits, wide belts, high boots and broad brim hats.

"Nervous?" Barris asked.

"Just a little," Grey said. "You?"

"Very nervous," Barris admitted. "What was it like the first time you mated?"

Grey looked up at the clear blue sky and felt the brilliant sun. The grass beneath his boots was green. The nearby lake rippled in a gentle breeze. Only a few hundred people filled the meadow, not the thousands who had witnessed his first wedding.

"This is different, but the feelings are similar," Grey said.

"It's time," Clagg announced, slapping a heavy hand on Grey's shoulder. "Often do men of the camps call each other brother, but today, as you mate my sister, you are truly my brother. Myra, too, gains a brother. Garn gains an uncle. We're happy to have you in our family."

Grey remained quiet, unable to find proper words.

They went to the head of the circle where a timber platform had been erected. Black Hands was pacing behind the stage muttering chants under her breath as Nole and Sharlot stood nearby.

"Black Hands has never conducted the ceremony before such a large crowd before. She may be more nervous than the brides," Nole reported.

"It's not so hard," Grey recalled.

"Have you performed mating ceremonies before?" Sharlot asked.

"One of my former duties was magistrate of a mining colony. I conducted marriage ceremonies on several occasions," he explained.

"The camp you led was bigger than ours, wasn't it?" Barris guessed.

"This is my world now. What happened before doesn't matter," Grey answered.

"There are some who think our camps could produce more, and get more reward, if we worked together," Nole said. "Some think you're the person to help us. A leader all the camps would respect."

"Not all the camps," Grey said. "Before long I would spend most of my time negotiating grievances and being criticized. Nothing would get done. No, Nole. I appreciate your confidence, but I like the work I do now. I'm looking forward to spending my nights with Shalli. Becoming a father. I don't want to be a leader."

"You might not have a choice," Nole warned. "But that is for another day. This is a time of great festivities, and you have a hard night ahead."

The men laughed and took positions near the platform. Soon drums and wooden flutes were played as the procession began. The mates of the leaders entered first carrying the symbols of their camps mounted on long poles. Some of the standards featured animal heads carved from wood, others were decorated with large bows made of ribbons and traces of lace. The children followed, throwing blossoms. Then the brides made their appearance.

Shalli and Tak walked side-by-side, Tak on the right as was due her rank. Their outfits were simple but alluring, with deep necklines and flowing blue skirts, their hair adorned with colorful flowers. Their nervous smiles filled with excitement. Barris poked Grey with his elbow.

"It would be dangerous to say which is the most beautiful, but I think Tak has the claim," Barris bragged.

"Dangerous indeed. Especially as you are wrong," Grey disagreed.

The standards were planted in a semi-circle and the couples joined together on the platform. Black Hands stood before them wearing a long buffalo robe bleached white for important occasions. The drum beating subsided as a single flute played a wedding tune, the melody familiar to all but Grey.

Then the flute suddenly stopped. Many looked around to see why, the song not yet complete. Four Arikhan sentries had taken positions behind the gathering, all holding weapons and wearing body armor. Two more guards appeared on the left not far from the dock, and three on the right from the direction of the main gate. One of the three was Romtra, coordinating their movements. Another was Nabbatron, watching for trouble. Frontra was maintaining a forward position.

The camps pulled together in a circle, the men on the outside, the women and children at the center, all wondering what had brought the guards out in such force. There was murmuring, then silence. Many trembled. All kneeled with heads down, awaiting an explanation.

Only Frontra approached the circle, the other guards maintaining watch from a secure distance. She walked through the outer ring, stepped over the cowering women, and went to the platform where the wedding party knelt.

"Ben, you must come with us," Frontra ordered, a claw on her weapon should drawing it be necessary.

"Why? Why, Frontra?" Shalli asked, clinging to Grey's arm.

"It is not permitted for slaves to ask questions without permission," Frontra responded, looking toward Clagg.

Clagg took the hint, climbing up on the stage to hold Shalli's shoulders. Nole did the same for Tak. There was no one to hold Barris back, but Grey put out his arm.

"You're needed here. Don't do anything foolish," Grey whispered.

"What's this about?" Barris asked loud enough that those in the immediate area could hear. Including Frontra.

"I've expected this for a long time. I'm only sorry it didn't happen sooner," Grey answered, seeing the distress in Shalli's eyes.

He stood up, but Shalli lunged, grabbing his leg.

"Don't go," she implored. "Fight them. You can fight them all!"

"Shalli, you must be brave," Grey said, kneeling down and prying off her hands. "Be brave for me. For your family. And for Sherra's sake, don't threaten the masters. Such words put everyone in danger."

"Don't go," Shalli said more quietly, tears running down her face.

"The call is made," Grey sighed with resignation.

He waited for Clagg to get a good grip on her before jumping down off the platform.

"You might not return, Ben. If you wish to say anything, I have a moment of patience," Frontra offered.

Grey could tell Frontra wasn't enthusiastic about her assignment. No doubt her popularity with the camps was the reason she'd been selected to make the arrest. He looked at the many confused expressions, but there wasn't much to say.

"Clagg, Myra, Ferret Camp, I've been happy living with you. You'll always have my respect. To my other friends, it's been a privilege."

Grey wiped tears from Shalli's face and kissed her slowly on the lips.

"I was prepared to love you. Don't ever forget that you deserve to be loved," he whispered.

"Come back to me," Shalli said.

"If I can," he promised.

Grey went with Frontra, walking near the lakeshore to avoid the thicker crowds. As they reached the outer ring, Grey saw Wart kneeling in the short grass, his eyes watery. Grey stopped and stripped off the fine clothing and boots, keeping only the breechcloth. It was more than he had worn while entering the gate two years before.

"I won't need these," he said, handing Wart the folded bundle. "Work hard and you'll grow into them."

"I won't grow to be a digger. I'll grow up to be a warrior and kill the enemies of my people," Wart said, glaring at Frontra.

Grey pushed Wart's head down to keep him from saying anything more and left the circle, walking to Nabbatron and Romtra.

"Follow us, half-meat. Make no sudden moves," Nabbatron instructed.

"I will do nothing to endanger the people, master," Grey said, wondering if he should try something after leaving the compound. But he quickly dismissed the idea. He would have to hurt several guards, including Frontra, and he didn't see anything good coming from that.

The point became moot. As they crossed the line of painted yellow rocks before the main gate, Bortro tied Grey's hands behind his back and attached a chain to his slave collar. The Arikhan sentries weren't taking any chances with their potentially dangerous prisoner.

"What is this about, mistress?" Grey asked Frontra as they passed under the brick gatehouse arch, walking across the railroad tracks and over a narrow wooden bridge to the camp headquarters on the opposite side of the narrow valley. It occurred to Grey that it was the first time he had been outside the compound since the day he arrived.

"No one but the Sarden Leader knows," Frontra replied. "He has been reading reports. Trying to find something that is hard to find. He is much frustrated. He may be angry."

"What does it have to do with me?" Grey asked, trying to sound clueless.

"He has been gathering your records," Frontra said.

Grey stopped asking questions. He had long thought it was only a matter of time before the Arikhan figured out that the slave Ben was also the destroyer of Bellerophon. Earth's hero was last seen wearing a Quexelian meteor suit. Ben was found in a Quexelian meteor suit. And Ben had foolishly spoken English when captured, a language the crew of the Link had never heard, but one their Council of Warriors would have in their database. As for how he could be found floating outside the Laros stargate more than a year after the battle, that remained a good question. He had no answer, but that didn't mean the Arikhan scientists hadn't discovered one.

Grey was led up rough flagstone steps to the headquarters on the hill overlooking Karak. The wood frame building was painted dull green. The tarpaper roof was covered with gravel tiles. Large glass windows gave the building light.

From the tree-lined path, Grey could see all the way down the valley where the railroad tracks crossed a rickety suspension bridge. The wide river was deep blue. The tracks gradually disappeared north into the prairie. Somewhere beyond the prairie were refining centers, factories for making components, and assembly plants. Akrona had once made warships for the Arikhan fleet. Now the planet was a forsaken backwater making an occasional cargo transport.

Except for Romtra, the guards returned to their duties at the gatehouse. Frontra took a final sad look at Grey before he was pushed through the wooden door.

The headquarters had improved since his previous visit. A red woven carpet covered the center floor area, the stools were finely carved tree trunks, and the walls were decorated with sculptures of various Arikhan deities made of twisted swamp wood.

Grey was put on his knees in the middle of the carpet and ordered to stay. Then, to his surprise, Romtra unclasped the chain and left the building, locking the door on her way out. Presumably to prevent escape. Odd, he thought, because the room had eight wide open windows and no bars.

He sat on the carpet by himself for a quarter of an hour, providing plenty of time to study the room. A communications globe was active, the images showing Arikhan officials providing reports, but the sound was off. Grey considered trying to read their lips, or beaks as the case may be, but decided it wasn't worth the effort.

There was a desk for administrative work in the far corner, and a long table for meals off to his right. Small tables near the north window held some of the games of chance the Arikhan liked to play. He remembered Mordari showing him several of the Arikhan pastimes. Some games used sticks with symbols on the edges, others had objects shaped like teeth the size of dice. Grey discovered his poker skills came in handy when playing Bones & Skulls.

Finally, a door down the rear corridor opened and Sarden Leader Gamtro entered the room. Grey didn't remember their initial meeting, only the one near the ore cart after the first quarry was made. Gamtro was still physically impressive, but his eyes were more sunken. Tired. His long bluish face was lined heavily below the high cheek bones, and the chin looked more pointed. Grey didn't know if it was age or stress that caused the weary appearance, but he had no doubt the alien was still a robust leader. He wore a plain olive green tunic, gray trousers, and high brown boots.

"We have not spoken in several seasons," Gamtro said in roughly worded Akronos, squatting just a few feet away.

"No, master," Grey replied in well-pronounced Arikhan, putting his forehead to the floor.

"Sit up. I wish to see your eyes when we speak," Gamtro ordered, reverting to his native language.

Grey rocked back on his heels, hands still bound behind his back, folding his feet underneath him. Gamtro moved forward, kneeling close enough that Grey could feel the alien's breath on his face.

"They say you are not a slave. They say you are a dangerous creature. A warrior," Gamtro said.

Grey sat passively, listening but doing his best not to react. Gamtro grew impatient, his narrow bird-like eyes darting about for clues.

"Answer, food creature, before I have you hung by the heels and drained for carving," Gamtro threatened.

"I have not been asked a question, master," Grey replied.

"Very well. Respond to the accusation," Gamtro ordered.

"The accusation is less than true, but not entirely false," Grey said, trying to return Gamtro's intense stare without being bold.

"In what manner is the accusation false?" Gamtro asked.

"It should be obvious, master. I sit on your floor, bound with a collar around my neck, completely at your mercy. I have worked your mines, struggled to fill your quotas, and obeyed your guards. Clearly I am a slave."

"You speak impertinently."

"I have not claimed to be a perfect slave."

"You are a warrior," Gamtro asserted.

"In another life, that was true. But now I am a slave of the Arikhan. One cannot be both a warrior and a slave."

"I am not sure of that. Are you as dangerous as my guards say?"

"I have not harmed any of your guards."

"Could you kill me if you wanted to?" Gamtro asked. "I am bigger than you. Stronger. So is Nabbatron. Frontra thinks you could kill Nabbatron in an equal fight."

"It would not be equal," Grey said.

"Then you call Frontra a liar?"

"No, I only say the fight would not be equal."

Gamtro stood up and walked around Grey, poking his shoulders, studying the musculature, noting the posture. Nearly naked with its paws tied behind its back, the Sarden Leader did not see how the creature could be dangerous. But he had no intention of being complacent.

Grey half-expected to be kicked or punched at any moment but made an effort not to appear apprehensive. He was only partly successful. Arikhan were good at reading the body language of their prey. Gamtro returned to the squatting position before him and drew a polished steel hunting knife.

"If you wait for me to beg, save yourself the time," Grey said in an angry voice. He raised his chin and closed his eyes. Gamtro put a claw in Grey's hair, holding his head still, and put the knife against his throat. Grey felt the coolness of the blade.

"Are you ready for death, food creature?" Gamtro asked.

Grey struggled to remain brave. He had long expected such a moment. Had long ago determined to keep his nerve to the end. Nevertheless, his breathing grew quicker. His shoulders trembled. He clenched his jaw to maintain composure.

Gamtro remained calm, still holding the knife against Grey's throat. After a moment, he slowly pulled back.

"Put your head on the floor," Gamtro demanded.

Grey bent over, his forehead in contact with the rough carpet. He felt Gamtro pull at his arms and suddenly the bindings came free.

"Sit back," Gamtro said.

Grey rocked back on his heels again, rubbing his wrists, wondering what Gamtro wanted from him. The alien appeared pleased to have aroused the captive's curiosity.

"You do not prepare for death like a slave. You abide in a warrior's courage."

"I was afraid," Grey disagreed.

"We are all afraid with a blade pressed to our throats," Gamtro answered, slowly waving the knife. "My guards insist you are dangerous. Not being warriors of the first rank, they may exaggerate your skill."

Grey grabbed Gamtro's wrist in a motion so quick the Sarden Leader hardly realized what had happened, then bent the claw back and twisted the knife free. In a heartbeat, Grey was pushing forward, driving with his legs, forcing Gamtro backward on the carpet. The alien tried to fend Grey off, seeking to block the assault with his powerful arms, but Grey was too fast, pouncing on Gamtro's chest to pin him down. The blade was soon pressed tightly against Gamtro's windpipe.

Now Gamtro was breathing hard, his eyes wider than normal, the cheekbones shimmering in a darker shade of blue. He struggled but Grey's hold was firm, the knife carefully poised. Grey was breathing heavier, too, from a brief adrenaline rush, but he wasn't excited. The attack was swift and professionally executed, just as he'd been taught by Captain Wingfoot many years before.

Once Gamtro ceased resistance, Grey drew the knife back.

"Have you found out what you wanted to know, master?" Grey asked.

"Much of it," Gamtro said.

Grey stuck the knife in the floor, crawled back to the center of the carpet, and resumed his original sitting position, crossing his hands behind his back. Gamtro pulled the knife out and put it close to Grey's throat.

"You could have killed me," Gamtro said.

"It would prove nothing."

"Now I have another chance to slay you."

"You could have done that yesterday, or a few minutes ago. You can do it now, or you can do it tomorrow. You are the Sarden Leader. I live at your discretion."

Gamtro put the knife back in its sheath.

"For several seasons I have gathered reports of your activities," Gamtro revealed. "Your engineering skills are beyond question, but when I suggested compelling you to do more, Frontra said neither fear nor intimidation would prove successful. I see now that Frontra has spoken truly."

"What is it you want, master?" Grey asked.

"When we are alone, you will call me Gamtro," the Sarden Leader said.

The alien stood up, went to a cabinet, and took out a bundle of clothing.

"This outfit was made by Denesians," Gamtro explained. "Captured from a smuggler who foolishly sought to evade our stargate's defenses. I don't know what the material is made of, but it is tougher than leather and keeps a good temperature in heat or cold. It is yours."

Grey accepted the gift, a full-length black uniform cut to his size. He put the suit on and admired the fit. He was not able to identify the material, but he found it particularly comfortable. Gamtro added a pair of fine leather boots to complete the outfit.

"The bribe is impressive, but you still have not revealed what you want," Grey said.

"More production," Gamtro answered.

"In exchange for what?" Grey inquired.

Gamtro looked surprised. "You yourself have admitted being my slave. I need not exchange anything."

"I am your slave," Grey said. "You may beat me, torture me, or kill me. All is within your power. But if you want my engineering skills, you must pay me. And my services do not come cheap."

Gamtro pounded the nearby table with a clenched claw, but he wasn't angry.

"Nabbatron is right. You are impertinent beyond words," Gamtro said, his tongue clicking with amazement. "What payment would you demand?"

"That depends on how much production you need, and whether or not the workers are willing to cooperate."

"We have never had trouble getting them to work," Gamtro said.

"They are good workers," Grey agreed. "But to increase production, their labor needs to be reorganized. New skills learned. I would also need power tools, spare parts, better nutrition, and rewards adequate enough to make them want to change. As your guards would need to change."

"This is more than I expected," Gamtro said, a worried clip at the end of the sentence.

"If all you want is marginal improvement, then much can remain as it is. But not if you want an appreciable increase."

"How much of an increase is possible?" Gamtro asked.

"One hundred percent in the first year. More after that, if we get the right equipment. I do not think a one thousand percent increase within the first three years is an unreasonable expectation."

Gamtro sat on a stool, stunned by the prediction. His claws quivered.

"Are you sure of this?" Gamtro asked.

"I was born on a mining colony. Engineering is my profession, but that does not mean it will be easy. And the people must be rewarded."

"I could make life very comfortable for you. And a few of your fellow food creatures," Gamtro offered.

"No, Gamtro. I am not Marne."

Gamtro shifted on the stool, embarrassed he had made the suggestion. His cheeks subsided to a soft aristocratic blue. The black eyes grew thoughtful.

"Nabbatron said my offer would not impress you. He believes your integrity is such that your flesh should be dedicated to Sherra when the time comes."

"Which begs an important issue. If we embark upon this endeavor, I want a promise that no one from this camp will be sent to the pens unless we both agree."

"That is presumptuous," Gamtro said, cutting his words sharply.

"Would you let your people be sent to the pens?" Grey asked.

"No, but these are not your people. You are not of Akrona."

Grey let the statement hang in the air, wondering if Gamtro would elaborate. Gamtro noticed the reaction.

"You have a greater secret," Gamtro suddenly realized, pointing at Grey with his claw. "When you came in here, you thought I knew the secret. You expected to die."

Grey did not respond. There was no point. Regardless of what he said, Gamtro would be curious enough to do his own research.

"Maybe this gives me more bargaining power?" Gamtro speculated.

"If you think so, you're a fool," Grey said.

Gamtro was shocked. Angry. Then he thought for a moment before slowly clicking his tongue.

"I tested your resolve. Now you test mine," Gamtro observed.

"I do not test your resolve, Sarden Leader. All know life at Karak is short for some, longer for others. For myself, I have few illusions. War has been my life, an early death the inevitable destiny. If you want my skills, you must offer more than threats."

Gamtro paced the room as he studied the prisoner, perceiving the determination in the creature's eyes. The defiant posture. Clearly it was not afraid of death. Gamtro doubted it could be intimidated, nor was it greedy. It had not seized power after slaying the wolves, nor gathered spoils from needy camps.

Nabbatron is correct, Gamtro thought. This creature holds itself to a high standard. It's almost Arikhan.

"Would you share bruno with me? I have a superior vintage," Gamtro invited.

Grey was taken off guard, which pleased Gamtro. For the first time since he entered the room, Gamtro felt he had broken a piece of the creature's reserve.

"Thank you, Gamtro," Grey said, unable to hide his curiosity.

* * * * * *

Several hours later, after more than one bottle of imported wine, Grey and Gamtro were speaking freely. Grey was surprised to find he liked the Sarden Leader, whose flexibility of mind was atypical of the Arikhan.

Gamtro was even more surprised. For a reason he didn't understand, he found it impossible to think of Grey as a food creature.

"Frontra is fond of you," Gamtro said, sitting opposite Grey at the small gaming table.

"Frontra is fond of many. She has a good heart."

"It was no accident she was sent to take you at the ceremony."

"It was a good strategy. Why did you wait for the mating ceremony to bring me here?"

"I thought to maximize the pressure. If you could be broken, it would be today, in a moment of great distress," Gamtro explained.

"I am not so easily disconcerted, though I fear Shalli is heartbroken," Grey said.

"Perhaps I may make amends. I will declare an extra day of holiday. That should provide sufficient opportunity to complete the ceremonies."

"That is generous, Gamtro," Grey appreciated.

"I find this event most strange," Gamtro remarked, pouring Grey another cup. "If anyone had told me I would enjoy sharing bruno with one of your kind, I would have thought them mad. Maybe there is something to be said for the Voice of Sherra."

"Voice of Sherra?" Grey asked.

"A new movement among my people. I have given it no heed. Most do not. But there are some who listen, such as Frontra. I do not believe, but maybe I will listen more carefully."

"Among my people, new ideas have great power. What is this new thought?"

"A warrior of much experience is declared by some to be a high priestess. Her followers call her the Voice of Sherra. She claims it wrong for the Arikhan to exploit sentient creatures as we do. She proclaims the decline of our empire is a sign of Sherra's displeasure. She says the Arikhan will prosper only when we respect the rights of alien cultures."

"This would be a great change for your people. As a food creature, I am inclined to sympathize with this philosophy," Grey said.

"You are no food creature."

"I am a member of a food creature species, Gamtro. Either we are all food creatures or we are not. I do not see how it can be otherwise."

"This is a difficult thought," Gamtro agreed, scratching the fine webbing on the side of his head. "Perhaps it will become clear if Mordari ever returns."

"Mordari!" Grey shouted, rising from the stool.

"Yes, Mordari. She is scout of the 44th Camp, held prisoner by food creatures in a far off star system," Gamtro explained. "Do you know of Mordari?"

Grey was feeling enough of the wine that he almost answered. Almost admitted a much more personal knowledge of Mordari than Gamtro could ever imagine, for he and the alien scout had spent countless hours together on missions. As allies, and as enemies.

Once again, Gamtro realized there was more not being said. His thin eye-rings lowered, the aristocratic gaze probing. But he did not pursue the thought. For now.

"The sun has set," Grey mentioned.

"Are you ready to return to camp?"

"Yes."

"I will have the planning materials you requested delivered, and Nabbatron will announce the extended holiday," Gamtro said.

"Do the people think I dwell in the pens?" Grey asked.

"No word is given. Even my guards do not know of our agreements. For now, it is best they abide in ignorance."

"Your wishes will be respected. I do have a request. A spoonful of flash powder. There is a stunt from an old entertainment I would like to try."

"A colorful one, no doubt," Gamtro agreed.

* * * * * *

The sun had already set on the festival campground but the mood was less than festive. Though some simply shrugged at Grey's misfortune, particularly those from Wolf Camp, many others were sad to lose such a valuable asset. For Ferret Camp, the holiday was over. They would share the evening meal and return along the south trail to mourn their loss. Shalli was trying to be brave.

"Maybe he's not sent to the pens?" Shalli said.

"Maybe," Clagg said. "Black Hands is offering prayers for him. Many are gathering at the lake to hear her words."

"We should go, too," Tak said, holding Shalli's hand.

"You should have completed the mating," Shalli said. "You were so beautiful. You and Barris should be having First Night, not watching over me."

"You're our friend. So is Ben. He would want us here with you," Barris said. "Let's go and hear Black Hands' prayer."

The group told Myra where they were going and started off, walking slowly through the camps to the edge of the lake. Darkness had crept all around, the central bonfire and the cooking fires being the primary sources of light. They found Black Hands sitting on the wedding platform studying the stars for a sign. They could see she had been crying.

"Is there hope?" Tak asked.

"There's always hope," Black Hands said, trying to wipe the tears. "The masters have not returned with ill news. The yellow moon is full. Several stars and planets are in harmony. And Ben is friend to the mountain. I think the signs are good."

Three dozen people gathered around as Black Hands finished her observations and raised her hands to the dark sky.

"Sherra, goddess of prosperity, hear our humble pleas," Black Hands said, her sincerity undoubted by all who listened. "Our brother is taken from us, we know not why. He is much needed, and much loved. Look upon us with kindness that our brother might be returned."

Suddenly, a bright red flash appeared at the rear of the platform accompanied by a short boom that echoed off the lake. The brief burst of flame was followed by a plume of white smoke. As the startled group looked up, Grey stepped from the smoke dressed in the black uniform Gamtro had given him.

"It's Ben! Ben has returned!" Tak yelled.

"Ben!" Shalli cried, climbing on the platform to hug him.

"It's a miracle. A miracle right here for all to see," Pie said.

"Black Hands, how did you do it?" Barris asked. "How did you bring Ben back?"

"I don't know," Black Hands said, surprised as anyone.

Hundreds of people began running toward the lake, many bearing torches to light the way. As crowds formed, Grey took Shalli into his arms and gave her a long kiss. Then he drew Black Hands up on the platform.

"Thank you for bringing me back, Black Hands," Grey said above the noise. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders so all might see him and the former healer of Raven Camp standing together in the torchlight.

"I could not have brought you back. It's one of your tricks," Black Hands whispered.

Grey smiled to let her know it was true, but didn't say so. The myth would enhance her stature, as they both knew. He helped Tak climb the timber steps to share a hug. Barris jumped up with her, gripping Grey's forearm.

"Welcome back, my brother. It's good to see you've not been claimed by the pens," Barris said, in awe of his miraculous reappearance.

"It would seem Sherra has other plans for me. Shall we reschedule the mating ceremony for tomorrow?" Grey asked.

"No! We'll do the mating ceremony right now," Shalli insisted. "I won't wait for something else to go wrong."

"Shalli is desperate for First Night," Barris laughed.

"So am I," Tak said, giving Barris a passionate kiss.

"What do you think?" Grey asked Barris.

"Are you able?" Barris questioned.

"Were you beaten? Tortured?" Tak asked.

"No, I spent the afternoon drinking bruno with the Sarden Leader," Grey said.

"Drinking? I've been scared to sickness," Shalli said.

"Better to share refreshments with the masters than be the refreshment," Grey said.

All paused to dwell on his words. Though spoken lightly, as he often did, many knew him well enough to recognize the dark humor that lay beneath.

An hour later, with the meadow lit by a hundred torches and blazing bonfires, the healer known as Black Hands joined two couples. The first was Barris and Tak, son of Sparrow Camp and daughter of Deer Camp. The second couple was Shalli and Ben of Ferret Camp. The brides were beautiful, the men handsome. Black Hands spoke the words of the ancient ritual, and with all her heart, wished the couples long and happy lives together.

It was not meant to be.

* * * * * *

Life in an alien slave camp is always subject to the whims and culture of their captors, and the Arikhan are not a benevolent race.