The Arbiter woke up alone in a quiet, dimly-lit hospital room. She lay very still, listening to the muffled voices and footsteps outside her door as her sleep-fogged brain tried to piece together exactly how she'd gotten here.
The shuttle ... we crashed ... rain ... search party ... lights ... broken ribs ...
McClellan slid a cautious hand over to her right side - slight tenderness, nothing more. As a test, she took one very deep, slow breath. There was none of the burning pain she remembered from the crash. Good. Now, if only she could get someone in here and find out what the hell had happened. She sat up, found the call button and pressed it. A few seconds later, the door burst open and a wide-eyed young nurse rushed in.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hands starting to flutter nervously in front of her. "You're awake!"
"Can you - " McClellan began, but the woman took off without waiting for her to finish.
The nurse returned quickly, this time accompanied by a female doctor. "I hope you'll excuse Tremara's behavior, Arbiter," she said, shooting a stern glance at the nurse. "She's a bit in awe of your celebrity." The doctor bowed respectfully, nudging the nervous Tremara to do the same. "I'm Dr. Keenan. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am, and an honor to have you among us."
McClellan bowed as best she could, considering she was still sitting in a hospital bed. "Your open arms honor me," she replied, using the semi-formal response, since this was their first meeting. (The longer formal one would be used if and when she was greeted by an official Dekronian welcoming committee.)
"Liaison Rellamarsen asked me to call him when you feel up to a visit. Would you like me to do that now, or wait until you've had time to change?"
McClellan frowned. "Change? But my luggage is - "
Dr. Keenan lifted a hand to indicate a corner of the room. McClellan looked, and was surprised to find her luggage case - beat to hell, but still intact - sitting there.
"Oh ... " She looked back at the doctor. "Thank you. I think I *will* freshen up a bit."
Dr. Keenan smiled. "Very good, ma'am. You should have no trouble - you're almost completely healed. I'll have Tremara wait outside your door. If you let her know when you're ready, she'll come to me, and I'll call the Liaison." The young nurse smiled and puffed up a bit with pride. She was clearly quite pleased with her assignment.
"Sounds good to me." McClellan turned and let her legs dangle over the side of the bed. "How long have I been here, anyway?"
"This is your second day, ma'am," said Keenan. "Your injuries weren't as serious as we first thought, so it didn't take much time to mend them."
The Arbiter nodded. "What caused the accident, do you know?" Both Keenan and Tremara grew suddenly stiff and mournful-looking, as if unexpectedly shown a picture of a dead loved one.
"I think, ma'am ... " Keenan said slowly, "That would best be explained by Liaison Rellamarsen."
McClellan looked from one pained face to another, then nodded. "Of course."
"We'll leave you alone now," Keenan said softly, with a slight bow. Tremara bowed also, and both women left the room, closing the door quietly behind them.
McClellan walked carefully to the corner and opened her luggage case to check the condition of her belongings. Everything, including the portable computer with all her work-related records and information, seemed to be in good shape. She extracted a fresh set of official blue-and-white Arbiter's robes (she always traveled with several), shook them out, and laid them carefully on the bed. A quick shower, a clip for her hair, and she'd be fit for her meeting with Rellamarsen. She hoped he'd be able to answer all her questions.
Twenty minutes later, she was ready. Tremara bowed and shot down the hall like an arrow when McClellan informed her, and a few moments later, Somin Rellamarsen (who had obviously been contacted already) appeared, followed by a man and woman dressed entirely in dark grey, from t-shirts to shoes. Both wore collars of woven metal with engraved oval medallions on the front. Rellamarsen himself wore the colorful ceremonial robes of his office.
"Arbiter, what a pleasure to see you alive and well! My people are greatly honored by the gift of your presence." Rellamarsen approached her, bowing deeply. The grey-clad man and woman bowed also.
"Your people honor me with their open arms, Liaison." said McClellan, bowing in return. "I am unworthy of such a reception."
"It is we who are unworthy. We beg you to accept our welcome," the Liaison replied. Both he and McClellan bowed once more, completing the ceremonial greeting.
"Arbiter, may I also belatedly express on behalf of my people our sadness at the passing of your husband." Somin bowed again, and much lower than before.
"Thank you, Liaison." After two years of widowhood, she'd grown accustomed to this. She could do it now with dry eyes, and gave the appropriate ceremonial response without missing a beat. "You honor his memory by sharing the burden of my grief." They stood in silence for a moment, their hands over their hearts in a gesture of respect for the dead.
"Now," he said in a normal voice, extending his hand to her in the traditional Earth manner. "You *must* call me Somin. I insist. All this ceremony quickly grows tiresome, don't you agree?"
"I certainly do," she smiled, shaking his hand. "Will you introduce me to your friends?" She turned to the man and woman beside him.
"Friends? Oh, no," he laughed, waving his hand in negation. "They're not - "
"Uh, Somin?" She held up her hand for silence, her eyes fixed on the medallions worn by the couple. "Why is my name engraved on their necklaces?"
Somin looked a bit confused. "Because, ma'am," he explained, "They are now your property."
Her mouth flew open. "My prop ... oh, no - wait a minute." She looked back and forth between Somin and the couple. "They're *slaves*?"
Somin's confusion deepened. "Of course, ma'am. A gift from the Dekronian people, in appreciation for your - "
She held up her hands. "Wait. Wait. Just give me a minute, ok?" Somin waited, looking quite lost.
"You're saying the government is giving me two slaves."
"Yes, ma'am."
"But ... " She bit her lip and shot a glance at the patiently quiet couple. "I don't *want* slaves. I don't *need* them."
Somin pursed his lips as he considered her words. His face brightened for a second, as if he'd just remembered something, then grew serious again. "Forgive me, ma'am. I had forgotten that Earth has no slaves. Now I understand your reaction." He frowned. "But I thought you were told. You didn't know you would be presented with slaves upon your arrival?"
She shook her head wordlessly.
"Ah. Well." He too now seemed at a loss for words. "Hm." He looked down and chewed his lip. "Unfortunately, refusing the people's gift would be considered an insult." He shrugged and gave her an apologetic look. "I'm afraid you have no choice but to accept them. To do otherwise would severely affect the arbitration process."
McClellan just stared blankly back at him. She had no idea how to react to the knowledge that she was now the legal owner of two human beings.
"Please allow me to introduce the new members of your house," he went on quickly. "This is Richard." The large man bowed when Somin said his name. "He came to us last year, and has proven himself a strong and capable worker. In fact, he requested that he be given to you. And this," he indicated the woman, who smiled and bowed, "is Reen. They are both pleased to be in your service."
Both slaves bowed again. Reen actually looked eager. Richard, however, remained virtually expressionless, his dark eyes placid.
"Are you familiar with our traditions regarding slaves, ma'am?" asked Somin.
"Somewhat," said McClellan uncomfortably. "I didn't delve too deeply into that area, other than a few basic questions about their fair treatment. I didn't know I would have to, um ... " She cleared her throat, feeling very self-conscious in front of the two people she now owned.
"I see. Then will you permit me to give you the relevant information?"
"Of course."
Somin nodded and continued. "Regarding their treatment, I'm pleased to tell you that abuse of a slave is illegal. They are not only valuable property, they are the bulk of our workforce. It is in our best interest to see that they are fed, clothed, educated and kept healthy. There is no excuse for not doing so. Any slave owner found guilty of abuse or neglect forfeits all his slaves. Depending upon the nature and severity of the abuse, he may be forbidden by the government to ever own another."
Somin raised his hand to indicate the slaves' clothing. "All slaves are identified by this uniform of dark grey, or a variation of it - depending on the weather, you understand. Everything they wear is the same color, including their undergarments. They are permitted no other colors. Their clothing is manufactured by other slaves at a factory dedicated to that purpose."
He pointed to the collars worn by the couple. "All slaves are also required to wear this collar, which bears the name of their owner. Any slave found without one is subject to punishment, unless it is proven that they have been legally freed by their owner."
"So they can be freed," said McClellan. "They don't *have* to stay slaves."
"Some can be freed, yes. But not all."
"Why not?"
Somin again indicated the slaves' metal collars. "Richard and Reen are a perfect illustration of this point. Richard's collar contains a behavioral inhibitor, because he came to us from a penal colony."
McClellan's eyes widened. "He's a convict?"
"Yes, ma'am. But please don't worry," Somin assured her. "He is perfectly safe and trustworthy. The inhibitor - which he cannot remove, by the way - makes it impossible for him to harm anyone, or even to make an escape attempt. He is perfectly content as he is."
She glanced at Richard, whose expression seemed to bear out Somin's words.
"Richard, of course, cannot ever be freed, for obvious reasons. Reen, on the other hand," continued Somin, "needs no inhibitor, as she was born into slavery. She has been in service all her life."
"Your parents were both slaves?" McClellan asked the young woman.
"No, ma'am." Reen's voice was soft and sweet, almost girlish. "My mother gave birth to me after serving her master in the bedroom. When I was old enough, he sold me."
The Arbiter blanched. "He ... " She shook her head, disbelieving. "He sold his own *child*?"
"It was his right, ma'am," said Reen. "I was his property, and he had no use for another slave."
"That's awful." McClellan turned to Rellamarsen. "How can you - "
"Please, ma'am," Somin said soothingly. "Don't be upset. As I told you, Reen's life has been devoted to service. Your concern will merely puzzle her, for she knows no other way."
"But to take you from your mother like that - "
"It was expected, ma'am," Reen said calmly. "When I was a young child, I was told that I would one day leave my master's house, and that I must bring honor to his name by serving my new owner well. He and my mother saw to it that I was well trained. I hope my service pleases you, ma'am."
McClellan stood open-mouthed with shock until she finally made her voice work. "I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job," she said, not knowing how else to respond. Reen bowed slightly at her words.
Somin smiled at the female slave. "Reen is quite intelligent, as you can see. And, although she is trained in every aspect of a slave's duties, her specialty is that of Lady's Attendant. She comes to you with excellent references, as does Richard, if you care to review them."
"Thank you, Somin, that, uh - won't be necessary." McClellan smiled nervously at the Liaison. "I trust your judgment."
The man beamed. "Thank, you, Arbiter. It's most kind of you to say so."
McClellan's eyes had gone back to the eerily silent Richard. His face looked familiar somehow, but she couldn't place it.
"Richard," she said turning to him. "Is it possible that we've met before?"
"Yes, ma'am. At the crash site." His voice was deep, rumbling in his chest like thunder.
She frowned, trying to think - ah, yes. Now it came to her.
"I helped put you on the stretcher," he continued before she could say anything. "I was to be presented to you at the official welcoming ceremony, but was sent to the crash site instead as part of the search party."
"Why did you ask to be uh, given to me?"
"It pleases me to be considered worthy of serving you, ma'am."
"Oh."
"As you can see, Arbiter, Richard is physically quite powerful," Somin chimed in. "Although he is prevented by his inhibitor from harming anyone, the level of control can be adjusted if necessary so that he may fight in your defense."
"Oh. I see." McClellan nodded. Suddenly, she realized that all this slave nonsense had diverted her from what she really wanted to talk about.
"Somin, what happened up there? What went wrong with the shuttle?"
The man cleared his throat and took on the same mournful expression the doctor and nurse had earlier when she'd mentioned it.
"I regret to inform you, ma'am," he said carefully, "That the transport on which you arrived was destroyed by an explosion."
"What?" It came out in a shocked whisper. McClellan's knees gave way, and she sank trembling onto the bed.
"Your surface shuttle was the only one to clear the transport before the explosion. You are one of only five survivors." He paused. "We believe the coalition of independent shippers was responsible."
She tried to swallow back the tears, but they came anyway. A tissue appeared out of nowhere, and Reen started gently blotting her face. Too stunned to stop her, she let it be done.
"There were children ... " McClellan whispered. "Children on that ship. I saw them."
"Fourteen, to be exact, ma'am, according to the ship's manifest," Somin informed her sadly. "You see now why you are fortunate to have someone like Richard to protect you."
"But ... why would they kill children? I don't understand." She took the tissue from Reen and dabbed at her eyes. "They had to know those kids were there. They had to. There are *always* kids on a transport that size."
"I think that was of little concern to them, ma'am." Somin's mouth was a grim, tight line. "They cared only that they were destroying the property and profits of a competitor."
McClellan closed her eyes and tried to breath normally. Her travels over the years had put her in some pretty unusual situations, but nothing could have prepared her for this.
My god, how much worse can it get?
The sound of marching boots suddenly pounded down the hallway, stopping by the door of McClellan's room. A man in military dress stepped in and stood at attention.
"Please forgive the intrusion, Liaison." He nodded to the two dignitaries. "But a large riot has broken out, and is headed this way. My men and I need to escort the Arbiter to her hotel immediately."
"Of course, Lenned. Thank you." Somin turned to McClellan. "We should go now. Quickly." She rose shakily from the bed, and Somin offered her an arm to lean on. "Don't worry about your luggage - Richard and Reen will see to that."
In fact, the two slaves were already busy - Reen expertly gathered and repacked her mistress' toiletries into the scuffed case, then helped Richard pick it up. She was apparently much stronger than she looked.
The hallway was filled with soldiers, who stood at attention as Lenned led Somin and McClellan past. "This way, ma'am." He indicated a side door, stepping through it before them. The group of soldiers followed. A large military vehicle was waiting outside, surrounded several smaller ones. All were topped by large, manned guns.
"Where's the hotel?" asked McClellan absently as they zoomed out of the parking lot. She was squeezed into the back seat between Richard and Reen, who had taken their proper positions at her side.
"On the other end of the city, ma'am," Lenned yelled back to her over the noise of the engine. "Luckily for you."
McClellan leaned back and closed her eyes, much as she had on the shuttle before it hit the ground and split apart.
Yeah. Lucky me, she thought. Dead husband, shuttle crash, two slaves I don't want, and now I'm in the middle of a goddam war. What's next - kidnapping? Maybe an alien invasion?
Her eyes flew back open when she felt a soft hand slip into hers. She looked into the calm green eyes of Reen.
"Don't worry, ma'am," she said, squeezing her new mistress' hand. "We'll take good care of you. We'll keep you safe. Won't we, Richard?"
The big male slave nodded. "Yes, we will."
He'd keep her safe, alright. His plan depended on it.
