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Author's notes: Editing, suggestions, bitching and general kvetching by Ghost in the Machine.
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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter one.
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5 – Fourth week, Third Year
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Monday, September 18, 2000: (Gregorian)
Hogwarts, Staff room: 09:34
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Callista glanced at Tonks, who shook her head. "Thank you, Miss Lycombe, I believe that will be all. Please give this pass to Professor Croft." The fifth-year tucked her hair back, walking back to class as Tonks crossed off her name. "This next one should be fun, Miss Malfoy." She shoved her chair back as she stretched, her joints popping. "I'm going to visit the loo first."
"Narcissa wished to be present," Callista admitted. "I shall assemble everyone, then."
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"Please come in, Miss Malfoy," Tonks called as Callista escorted the second-year in. "Now, I'd like to state that this meeting is being recorded by an Unchangeable Quotes Quill as you see, and you are allowed a parent or relative and solicitor to be present. Do you have any questions so far?"
"I would like a copy of this session," the solicitor said, passing over his card.
"Once we have concluded questioning all the females on the train," Tonks said, making a note. "That will probably be the end of next week or so, if that's all right?" The solicitor nodded, Tonks continuing, "Now then, we're in the Staff room of Hogwarts, and today's date is September 18, 2000, it's twenty after ten am. Present are Callista Vector of Hogwarts, Nymphadora Tonks of the DMLE, Miss Lucille Malfoy and her legal guardian, Ms. Narcissa Black. Also present is Mr. Roger Webster, solicitor for Miss Malfoy." Tonks took a deep breath, "Miss Malfoy, for the duration of this session, I'm going to put a truth charm on you, which will also help your memory. We've permission from the court (she passed over a sheet of paper) for this. I'll remove the truth charm today; we're only concerned with the train ride to Hogwarts on the first, nothing else."
"I think not," Mr. Webster said, taking the paper and twirling his Bismarck mustache. "We have an order forbidding the use of any form of spell or charm on my client." He passed over another sheet of paper, "As you can see, Mr. Percy Weasley and Ms. Dolores Umbridge have signed for the court."
"Drat," Tonks said, and Mr. Webster smiled, "It's not supposed to be easy, now. Any questioning of my client will be done here and now, in my presence, unless..." his voice turned silky, "You're prepared to charge my client?"
Tonks thought fast, "Not at this time, but I did have a few questions. Miss Malfoy, if you would please give your full name, and let's start at Platform 9 ¾..."
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"I refuse to answer under Article five," Miss Malfoy said with a glance at her solicitor.
"Miss Tonks, do you have any evidence regarding my client, or is this simply a fishing trip?" Mr. Webster asked, the quill still industriously scratching away.
"We have evidence placing your client in the same loo as the victim, Miss Wayne, at the same time," Tonks said, raising her hand. "I presume you'd like to see this evidence?"
"You took the words from my mouth," the solicitor said. Tonks nodded, motioning them to a large, circular scrying table as people rearranged themselves around it. She waved her wand, and the area around the loo's mirror appeared, rippling a bit. Lucille Malfoy appeared in silence, bag open on the sink, wand in her hand as Mattie Wayne appeared in the mirror. She said something unknown to Malfoy, who replied with a sneer, then grabbed her bag and vanished. A yellow flash of light showed, and the scene ended.
"That's all you have?" the solicitor asked in disbelief. "It's a poor recording of my client fixing her hair, certainly not an illegal act."
"Miss Malfoy said something to Miss Wayne, I'd like to know what it was," Tonks said. Lucille glanced at her solicitor, who nodded. "Wayne greeted me with 'Malfoy', I replied with 'Wayne', she continued on to a stall while I left."
"And the flash of light?" Tonks asked.
"A light fixture," Mr. Webster replied with a shrug. "GNER has had maintenance problems, unless you're planning on blaming my client with stopping-up toilets?" He stood, "I believe we are finished here. Please remember, neither Hogwarts or the DMLE is to interrogate my client without my presence." He bowed and ushered his clients out.
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"Merlin," Tonks whispered, staring at the scrying table. "I thought that would get her."
"At least you've permission from Dumbledore and Bones," Callista said. "They know what's about. At least you didn't have to get it from Umbridge or Weasley."
Tonks shuddered, "How did we end up with those two?"
"We weren't going to get everyone we wanted in the election," Callista pointed out. "Umbridge squeezed in through name recognition and the Prophet, same as that great prat Weasley."
"At least his pa got into the Parliament, although his meetings with the muggles must be interesting." Tonks shoved back from the table, "Who's next?"
Callista patted her shoulder, "Having met Arthur Weasley, I'd agree," and swiveled the list about. "Next is 'Morton, Julia', a firstie Gryff. I'll fetch her." Tonks shook her head, pulling over her list and drawing a hesitant line through 'Malfoy, Lucille', then adding a question mark.
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Callista rapped on the classroom door, "Excuse me, Professor Lupin, I need to borrow Mr. Morton for his sister's questions."
Remus smiled, "Certainly. Off with you, Mr. Morton." As Arthur put his things together, he continued, "Now, in the last quarter of the fourteenth century, starting in 1371, Scotland's King Robert the Second... "
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"Please come in, Miss Morton," Tonks called as Callista escorted the two in. "You must be her brother. Please, have a seat, and I'd like to state that this meeting is being recorded by an Unchangeable Quotes Quill as you see, and you are allowed a solicitor as well as your brother to be present. Do you have any questions so far?"
"Yes, my name is Arthur, and I'd like a copy of this session, please," Arthur said.
"Once we have concluded questioning all the females on the train, as I can't stop and restart the quill," Tonks said, making a note. "That will probably be the end of next week or so, if that's all right?" Arthur nodded reluctantly, Tonks continuing, "Now then, we're in the Staff room of Hogwarts, and today's date is September 18, 2000, it's ten after eleven am. Present are Callista Vector, Nymphadora Tonks of the DMLE, Miss Julia Morton and her brother, Mr. Arthur Morton." Tonks smiled, "Miss Morton, for the duration of this session, I'm going to put a truth charm on you, which will also help your memory. We've permission from the court (she passed over a sheet of paper) for this. I'll remove the truth charm today; we're only concerned with the train ride to Hogwarts on the first, nothing else."
Arthur took the sheet, examining it, "I'm not happy with a truth charm, and I know who Albus Dumbledore is, but who's Amelia Bones?"
"Why is a bartender signing court documents?" Julie asked. She explained, "When I came over with Mattie and Tomas to shop a week or so ago, I met Mr. Dumbledore in the pub, he was dressed as an innkeeper."
Tonks snorted, "Albus has always been ..."
Callista said, with a glare at Tonks, "Albus Dumbledore, after retiring as Headmaster, decided to concentrate on reforming our legal system. He is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, our judicial system. As far as why he is dressed as an innkeeper," she sighed, "He believes people will talk to their publican more easily. As far as Amelia Bones, she was formerly head of the DMLE before being sacked by Minister Fudge. Both eminently qualified, and both were elected last month as one of fifteen jurists."
"I'm still not happy with casting a spell on my sister, but if it's OK with her and will help find Mattie," Arthur grumbled, adding, "I reserve the right to object to any question."
"No worries, mate," Tonks observed, adding, "Don't forget, I'm going to cast the same spell, and ask the same questions of my own sister when we work down the list to her." Tonks smiled, casting 'Veritas anima' and saying, "No reason to be nervous dear. Now then, your full name, and let's start at Platform 9 ¾..."
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"I can't believe he... criticized my investigation like that," Tonks said.
"At least he had the courtesy to wait until his sister had left," Callista said. "Mr. Morton believes in standing his ground, he's in my Arithmancy class." She sighed, "I don't think he's right on everything, but you will have to get someone else to question your sister."
"Oh, right. Conflict of interest."
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Wednesday, September 21, 1379: (Julian)
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:10
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The Headmistress rapped her gavel, "Please, let's come to order. Has anyone any luck in finding a time-travel spell for Miss Wayne?"
Professor Binns snorted, "I care not for the chit. She dared to call me in class! I have a mind to whip her for cheeking her betters!"
"I hope you did not," Professor Flamel said, glancing in alarm at the Headmistress. "Not only is her discipline my responsibility, but she is easily the most powerful of the students here. Also, please remember that to her, we are dead and gone; she rightfully cares for her friends and relatives. We are simply temporary hosts."
"Which brings up another matter, Nicholas," the Headmistress said. "Gold. Whilst we can support one more person for a while, I think it is only fair that Miss Wayne pay a bit toward her upkeep."
"And how do you propose she do that? She has no kin that would acknowledge her in this time, and dares not sell her knowledge to the highest bidder." Flamel sighed, "I will broach the subject, if worse comes, I shall pay her expenses myself."
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Professor Flamel looked up from his roll, "Miss Wayne, please see me after class." She nodded, "Now then, we were discussing alchemical reactions between the brass of the cauldron and ..."
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"You wanted to see me, sir?" Mattie asked, Nicholas throwing down his quill. "Yes, Miss Wayne. The question of finances arose this morning in the staff meeting. I am aware that you have no relatives in this era that would pay your expenses, still, we must cover some of your costs."
"I actually do," Mattie said, "They just aren't aware of me. What would you require?"
Nicholas shrugged, "A bit of gold, or silver? I have no idea where you might get it, though."
"I have a few resources," she said, adding, "Ask me no questions, please. Would tonight be adequate?"
"Tonight? But..." Mattie raised her hand. "Ask me no questions."
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'Precious metals' Mattie mused, floating in the asteroid belt as her Ring scanned. It 'pinged' her, and she flew toward the small rock a few hundred thousand miles away.
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"Will this cover my costs, Professor?" Mattie asked as she levitated the rocks in. "I've got one I need to smelt, might I borrow a cauldron?"
"Where did you get those?" Flamel asked.
"This is about two hundred pounds of gold and silver," Mattie replied, ignoring the question. "I think it would raise fewer questions if you were to simply put these on the Slytherin house accounts. After I've gone, use the funds to help out members of the Snake's Den in financial trouble."
Flamel nodded, "And the other?"
"Currency, professor, I've figured out a way home, so I've got shopping to do." She kicked the desk-sized rock, "Almost pure tungsten."
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Wednesday, September 20, 2000: (Gregorian)
Hogwarts, Headmistress' office: 08:42
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"...Well, if there's nothing else," Minerva said.
"I have a comment to make to the lot of you," Alastair said. People turned to look, "I know you think I'm just a barmy bit of felt, but I recall what I said to each of you during your Sortings, and I must say I'm ashamed of you. ASHAMED! Here Miss Wayne has been gone for some three WEEKS, and you STILL haven't figured out her location! Well, I say shame on you!"
"If you know where she is, then TELL US!" Severus growled.
"You must figure it out first, Severus. I did discuss this with the Baron and the Ghost's council, and they said I could give you a hint." The Hat started to whistle.
"Th' ghosts know where she is?" Tonks blurted.
Alastair stopped whistling, "Of course they know, you pink-haired dunderhead. However, they can no more give the secret up than I can. Now, my advice for you, stop doddering about off-duty in broom closets with your flea-bitten paramour. As for you, Mr. Lupin, screw up your alleged Gryffindor courage and propose! It's not like she'll turn you down." Alastair started whistling again as Lupin and Tonks looked at each other, wide-eyed.
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"Well, I feel a right idiot," Filius said, glancing at Tonks and Lupin, who were walking separately. "I've never heard Alastair whistle before."
Croft stopped short. "That's the clue!" she whispered. "Anyone recognize it?"
"Popular music?" Severus snorted. "Hardly."
Lara looked about, "Harry?"
"Sorry, I favor muggle jazz myself," he said. Sinistra had staggered back to her tower and bed, "Tonks? Excuse me, Tonks?"
"Allow me," Severus said with a smirk as he stalked over to the oblivious couple, "Miss Tonks!" he hissed, and she jumped apart, "Essence of wormwood! Infusion of monkswood!"
"Interesting combination," he whispered. "There is a question, Miss Tonks. What was the Hat whistling?"
"Eh?" She blinked, "Bridge Trolls, Time like water. What'd I miss?"
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Friday, September 23, 1379: (Julian)
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:10
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"Professor Flamel?" Mattie asked, "Just to let you know I'll be off planet this weekend, doing a bit of shopping for my project. I should be back in time for Monday's classes."
Flamel spat tea, "Off... planet? How?"
"Sorry, professor, I can't answer that," she said primly. "Nor can I take someone along, as you haven't been exposed yet. Sorry." With a nod, Mattie walked back to the Slytherin table.
"You've put Flamel in a right state," Anne said. "What'd you tell him?"
Mattie sipped her tea; making a face. "I told him I was going off planet to shop this weekend, and he couldn't come along."
"What about one of us?" Augustus asked.
Shaking her head, "The professor is responsible for you lot, I won't have time to keep an eye out for you, and you've not been exposed yet."
"Exposed to WHAT?" Melanie asked.
Mattie thought for a minute, "Other life," she finally answered.
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Friday, September 23, 1379: (Julian)
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 19:50
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Mattie pushed back from the table, checking her bag and saying, "I've got to get going. See you lot Monday."
"Please take me with you," Anne begged, clutching her arm.
"I'm sorry, Anne, I really am," Mattie said, gently detaching the girl. "I can't, and you know why." She took a step back, and cast an invisibility spell on herself before taking a last look and phasing through the wall.
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Friday, September 23, 1379: (Relative)
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market, Temple of the Lantern:
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"Greetings," Mattie told the attendant, touching her Ring to the courtesy Battery. "I am new in town; may I get a room for a night or two?"
(Of course, Honored Lantern,) it replied. (How else may this unworthy being assist you?)
"Banking services and starship brokers," she replied. "Please send the information to my room terminal, but for now," she yawned, "A soft bed in my room, please."
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Saturday, September 24, 1379: (Relative)
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market:
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Whistling to herself, Mattie walked the alleys of the Grand Market, wearing a freshly replicated ship suit instead of her Hogwarts school uniform. She was aiming generally for the 'electronics' section of the Market, but was making a slight detour through the 'ship chandler's' section on her way there.
(Lookie, lookie! Nice hot slave, warm bunk on long cargo run! Only three hundred grams!)
Mattie turned as the nude slave screamed in agony, writhing on the pole she was chained to, a glowing collar around her neck. Frowning, she advanced toward the grinning slaver, who suddenly lost his grin when he saw the Lantern insignia on her suit. He started to babble, (Nice hot slave, you keep, free slave, you have, you take!) and tossed Mattie the slave's control chip, quickly hustling his livestock inside and closing his doors. In a minute, he had lifted his ship off, while Mattie examined the slumped girl.
"Now what the bloody hell am I going to do with you?"
The slave lifted her eyes, "English? Did I just hear English? Oh, my god, are you from Earth?"
Mattie snorted, "Yeah. Looks like I have a slave now." She started looking around the abandoned shop, holding up bits of cloth. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Cassidy. Cassidy Yates, class of 23..."
"Whoa," Mattie said, "You're a time traveler?"
"What do you mean?" Cassidy asked, hanging by her wrists. She managed to struggle to her feet as Mattie tied one strip of cloth over her waist, another over her breasts.
Mattie sighed, "Relatively speaking, it's 1379 on Earth right now, I got sent back from the early twenty-first century, and you're from the twenty-fourth?"
"Thirteen-when?" Cassidy squeaked. "Oh, my god, my folks must be frantic!"
"Tell me about it," Mattie grumped.
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"So what do I do with you?" Mattie asked the kneeling Cassidy, as she sat in the small outdoor café. "Aside from getting you something better to wear."
"I have swimwear at home that's smaller," she grinned, then sobered, "I'm still marked as a slave," she said, touching her collar. "If you want to keep me, and I hope you do, you can dress me as you want, but the law says I need to be registered as your slave by sundown, Mistress."
"I really don't like this whole 'slave' thing," Mattie complained. "Why can't I register you and then free you?"
"I've heard it's harder and more expensive to free a slave than to create one, Mistress. I've only seen one slave I thought was freed, and she still wore her collar under her ship suit. You can ask at the municipal building, the one with the green dome." She sighed, "In any case, we need a ship to get back to Earth, unless you wanted to sell me off," she added bitterly.
"Right," Mattie snorted. "Remember your history? This is the Middle Ages right now, with the Black Death and the Crusades. Steel swords and wooden carts pulled by horses are high-tech to them."
"Horses?" Cassidy squeaked, "Like big four-legged... animals?"
"Horses. I agree, we need a starship," Mattie said, "Now, think about this answer very carefully, Cassidy. You don't want to reveal the future to me, but can you help me get a good, reliable starship? If we can get one, my plan is to somehow build a time device to get us both back to where we need to be."
Cassidy opened and closed her mouth, drumming her fingers on her knees. She slowly said, "They'll be antiques to me, museum ships a thousand years old. My brother is the one that was constantly tinkering with..." she glanced at Mattie, "Well, his."
Chuckling, Mattie replied, "It's something in the male gene, I think. My older brother is the same way, as are my schoolmates." She offered her hand to Cassidy, "Partners?"
"Partners."
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"So how do I free you?" Mattie asked. "Why can't I just use my magic power ring to snip that thing off your neck?"
"You don't, Mistress, it's linked to my nervous system somehow," Cassidy replied bitterly. "I think it violates the law if you do. Once a slave, forever a slave, I was told."
"Right," Mattie snorted. "You believed them? You'll have that thing off your neck as quickly as I can arrange it. The way I see it, worst case, we'll have to act the whole mistress/slave bit, but it's for the unwashed. Once we're on that ship, I'm going to depend on you – I've never been on a starship before."
"That's right, early twenty-first century," Cassidy mused. "I don't remember, have you landed on the moon yet?"
"About thirty years ago, and we haven't officially been back since," Mattie snorted in disgust.
Cassidy regarded her, saying, "Okay, I think I know where you are. By the way, who are you, Mistress?"
"Just keep calling me Mistress until we're out of this mess, but my name's Mattie Wayne, of Gotham City."
Cassidy's eyes grew huge, she gobbled, "W...Wayne?" and fainted.
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"Geez," Mattie grumbled, dragging the unconscious girl to the corner fountain and holding her head under. After a few seconds, Cassidy started to thrash, and Mattie let her up. "Feel better?" she asked.
"M... Mattie Wayne?" Cassidy asked, and Mattie nodded where she crouched next to the fountain. Cassidy spun, stuck her head underwater, and screamed. Pulling her head up, she took a deep lungful of air, then dunked her head and screamed again.
"That little performance warrants an explanation," Mattie commented as Cassidy pulled her dripping head from the water.
"I can't give you one, Mistress, except to trust me," she panted. "We must do three things, Mistress. First, you must register me as your legal slave in the galactic database, this must be done immediately. Secondly, you must equip me as a slave, and then we can look for a starship. We can get this done before you return for classes at Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts? How did you..."
"Please, Mistress! We don't have much time, and my registration must be done today!"
"I really don't like this. I don't want to own another person, I need a partner, not a cringing slave. Please, could you at least stop calling me 'Mistress'?" Mattie said, starting to rise from her crouch.
Cassidy lowered her voice, and Mattie crouched again, "In private, yes, I'll try to remember, but in public I must." She tapped her collar, "You have my chip, so legally I'm your slave, Mistress. I don't remember much interstellar law, I slept through those classes, but I do remember 'law ends with atmosphere' and 'law ends with enforcement'." She shrugged, "Once we clear orbit, we can talk, but until then, I must look and act your slave, and you must act the Mistress, no matter how distasteful you find it." She glanced at the sun, "For now, I heard my former Master tell clients changes of ownership must be done by sundown, so you must register me as your property, and quickly, otherwise I'll default to the State's ownership." She shuddered, "Please, Mistress, just trust me for now. Remember, it's the building with the green dome."
"I'm still really not happy with this," Mattie said, standing.
"Be a bitchy Mistress at the clerks, it's expected," Cassidy whispered, standing and taking her position behind Mattie.
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Cassidy was led off as Mattie filled out forms. There was a scream of pain, and then she was led back to kneel quietly by Mattie's side, head down. The smarmy bureaucrat said, "We don't get too many Lanterns registering slaves. Why..."
Mattie leaned over the desk, and said menacingly, "I won a bet. Shut up and tell me how to free her, and get that collar off."
"Free her? Why would you want to..." he shut up at Mattie's glower, punched keys and gave her a chip. "Your registration of your slave honored Lantern. As far as freeing her, she will remain a slave until the correct forms are submitted along with a fee of ten kilograms of tungsten are paid in the capital, and two weeks have passed. She must also have some form of financial support, and as a slave, she cannot enter into contracts. Does she have any marketable skills?"
"Ship's engineer and pilot," Mattie ground out.
The clerk looked at her record. "She does not have any of those certifications; she's a barbarian from an uncivilized world. If you want to amuse yourself that she can support herself, honored Lantern, I would suggest you put her to work studying, when..." he smirked, "...she's not warming your bunk."
"Where can I find these study materials?"
"You're really going to do that?" the clerk asked, surprised. "It's your tungsten to waste, then. The shipmaster's guildhall with the black dome has that material, but you'll have to chain her outside. Traditions and all that, a stuffy lot. You'll have to go tomorrow, they've closed by now."
"Her collar?"
The clerk tisked, "You really want her free? She's not worth it, you know. At most, a twelve hundred gram slave, and you're spending many, many times her value?" He sighed, "Your tungsten to waste. Once you have all the proper forms filled out and fees paid, then I would enter a certification for her in her records. That will keep her from being sent right back to the block, although it's more expensive to certify a slave."
"I'm not concerned with the money."
"You're willing to spend tungsten like pareek't juice, I agree. In any event, upon payment of a fee, you can have her manumission recorded. Then, and only then, can her collar be removed. I would strongly suggest tipping the operator heavily if you don't want permanent neurological damage to the slave. There's only one place in the capital that can be done, but you've got a road to travel before then."
"Why can't I cut it off with my ring?"
"If you want her dead, be my guest. Go ahead, look it up. There are faster ways to kill a slave, though, and you would be violating our law which you're supposed to enforce. Really, don't they teach you anything when they give you that ring?"
Mattie closed her eyes, counting to ten; then snatched up her chips. "Thank you, honored clerk," she forced out, then snapped, "Follow me, slave!" as she stormed out of the building.
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"All right, I've done what you wanted, no matter how revolting I found it," Mattie told a kneeling Cassidy as she sulked in a cafe. "Why do you want me to tie you up?"
Cassidy said quietly. "You're not tying me up, but I need to appear like all the other slaves on the street. Take a look, Mistress; they're wearing slave belts and leashes, so I must, if for no other reason than I won't stand out."
Mattie grunted, eying the passing crowd, inspecting the slaves in it. "All right, I can understand a disguise, but why do you want a gag?"
"Please, Gran...Mistress; I'm afraid I'll say something I shouldn't. I've already caught myself several times today."
"All right," Mattie said, as Cassidy sighed in relief. "I talk at night; too, it's a solution to a problem I can see. I can use a silencing spell at school, but here, I'm concerned about you choking in your sleep." She eyed the passing slaves, adding, "I seem to be at a disadvantage, here. Now that we're so intimately connected, I think it's only fair we find out about each other. I'll start, my full name is Helena Martha Wayne, and I'm a third year at Hogwarts. Yours is?"
"Whatever Mistress wishes, I am her slave," Cassidy said, sweating slightly.
"Surely you must have had a name, a full name, before you became a slave," she said softly as Cassidy squirmed. "I'm not asking who's going to win the next World Cup. I'm simply asking for your name, your full name. It's a partnership thing, you understand. You simply piqued my curiosity, screaming when you heard my name. Surely it's not that unusual a name, Wayne, is it?"
"No, Mistress."
"So how does a random twenty-fourth century schoolgirl recognize someone long dead to her? Recognize her well enough to go into hysterics? I don't think I'd have the same reaction if I were to meet, oh, Abraham Lincoln, for instance."
Cassidy sweated, pulling at her bound wrists as Mattie sat back, tenting her fingers. "Crap. Crap, crap, and more crap. You would use Lincoln, wouldn't you?" Cassidy looked up from the tavern's flagstones, still pulling futilely at her bound wrists. "I've always hated that 'I'm waiting' stare," she admitted. "This is why I want a gag, that, and I've always been kinda, well, rather..." She looked at the implacable gaze, "... well, submissive, and a masochist, so this has actually been rather a lot of fun..." she noticed Mattie's tapping fingers, "Oh, gawd, if you must know, my full name is... Cassidy Wayne Yates."
"Hmm, a very interesting middle name. Married?" Cassidy shook her head, "This puts a different card on the table, my loose-lipped partner, and we now have a different relationship." She regarded the kneeling girl, "I'm going to indulge your desire for a gag, and it will be the most effective available. You will be wearing it until we are off this planet. After that," she shrugged, "we'll see how the cards fall next hand. Are we understood?"
"Yes, Mistress," Cassidy said with a small grin. Mattie snorted, and she added, "Aside from that, I'll need a slave's ship suit for vacuum work, and I'll need something for day to day wear." She grinned, "I don't mind going topless, Mistress, I actually prefer just wearing a skirt."
"I don't, but since you insist on calling me 'Mistress', slave, you'll wear what I want."
"That's the spirit, Mistress!" Mattie glowered at her, and she grinned, tilting her head, "Down the alley with the yellow awnings, Mistress."
"Joy," Mattie said as she stood, Cassidy following a pace behind and to her left, head down. 'If only you knew,' Cassidy thought.
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Mattie paused to look about the alley, how the merchants all stayed in business when they all sold basically the same merchandise confused her. Cassidy sidled up, still the proper slave, and whispered, "Ahead to the left, Mistress, the shop with two redheaded slaves on pedestals." Mattie nodded slightly, and strolled along, window shopping.
Stopping to feel the calf of one of the identical twin slave girls chained on the pedestals, Mattie frowned as the girl whimpered. She fingered the amazingly short shift the girl wore; then strolled inside.
(Greetings, Mistress!) The shopkeeper said. (How might I assist you today?)
Mattie put on an arrogant attitude. "I want a good, tight gag for this mouthy slave, several months of silence should teach her to obey her betters. I don't want to hear so much as a whimper. Then, I need..."
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Mattie kicked the door shut, "Here we are, home sweet home." She released Cassidy's hands, reaching for her gag. She moved away, shaking her head, and Mattie asked, "You want the gag left on? You sure?" The girl nodded emphatically, miming sniffing her armpits. "Okay, toss me that shift you're wearing, I'll run it through the replicator while you're in the shower." Cassidy pulled it off, holding it to her nose and pinching it, Mattie chuckled, asking "What about your belt?" Cassidy shook her head again, miming a key turning, then pointing to her crotch. "Okay. Why don't you leave the keys in the head, you can unlock what you want. We'll both suffer while we're out, I don't want to figure out more than one set of alien plumbing." Cassidy rolled her eyes as Mattie asked, "You figure out the three seashells yet?"
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Cassidy was kneeling, looking out the window at the city when Mattie left the shower. She took a chair next to her, "Normally, I'd say we need to talk. However, since you insisted on wearing that gag, it's going to be more of you listen when I talk." Cassidy shrugged and nodded as Mattie growled in frustration. "I really, really don't like owning you. My plan is to free you and get that damn collar off as soon as I can." Cassidy nodded, holding her hands in prayer. "Outside that door, we're both playing a part in your little comic opera. That means I'm the bitchy owner, you're the slave, and you seem to be the only one that likes her part." Cassidy shrugged, tugging at her collar as Mattie eyed her. "God only knows why. I'll promise you, though, that if I have to beat you, it's because it's part of the act, and I'll apologize now, ahead of time, is that understood?" Cassidy nodded, "Two other things. I'll never abandon you, I'll keep an eye out for you," Cassidy crossed herself, "And two, I'm going to show my displeasure." Cassidy eyed her, "No, nothing like that, but you don't like that little white shift?" The girl shook her head, holding two fingers an inch apart, and Mattie smirked, "I thought so. I'm going to search out, and you're going to wear, the most gawdawful, ugly, hideous pieces of slave fashion on this misbegotten planet I can find."
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The city clerk entered the bar to shouts of 'Bargo!' He took his normal seat, asking, "A bit of news. You heard about the Lantern that drove Trego L'macala off the planet?"
One of his companions asked, "Should we buy her a drink or kill her?"
"Buy her a drink. Trego always was a waste orifice," a third said.
Bargo snorted, "Did you hear the funny part? He left a slave behind and the Lantern registered it!"
Beings guffawed, one asking, "Really? A Lantern with a slave? Doesn't that break one of their precious 'rooles'?"
"That's not the funny part," Bargo said. "First thing she does after registering it is ask how to free it. That's the funny part." He turned to the patiently waiting slave, telling the kneeling girl, "My usual, slave, and be quick about it."
"Yes, Master," she said, touching her board. Rising, she went to the bar, eyes gleaming, whispering, "Did you hear? A Lantern has a slave that she wants to free!"
"No!" the bartender whispered, her collar glowing in the dim light. "Source bless them both," she said as she poured Bargo's drink.
Every free person in earshot, save one, hooted at the very concept. The lone holdout, a red-skinned Korugarian female, stood, dropped two small coins to pay for her drink and quietly left the bar. 'The Gods are watching and have lead me to this place. If the ring-bearer proves false, I can but hope they allow me to be the instrument of her destruction,' she thought.
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Sunday, September 25, 1379: (Relative)
Epsilon Eridani III, Grand Market, Temple of the Lantern:
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Mattie knelt, shaking Cassidy, "Wakey, wakey. Why didn't you want to share the bed, there was room for two?" She stretched, then held up a finger, "You're a slave and we're on planet," as the girl tugged her collar, then pointed out the window. "Whatever. By the way, get your ship suit, it's in the closet. I was wondering why yours was different than mine." Cassidy tugged her collar again, but got the suit, pulling it on. There were a series of clicks, and she stopped as it was examined. "The belt connects to the suit, for waste disposal. Continue, please." She shrugged into the rest of the suit; it was white with yellow stripes down the sides, slave's colors, to the armpits, then clear arms and shoulders to the ring that latched just below her chin, over her collar. She adjusted her wrists and ankles; kneeling and clipping her ankles, then her wrists together. She flopped about on the floor, a secured slave.
"Interesting..." Mattie said, examining it, then test-fitting the helmet, piling her hair inside. Rolling her over, she looked it over, "Airtight seal on the helmet..." Cassidy nodded emphatically, and Mattie found the release, Cassidy's pants whistling through the air holes in the tight black mask. "Sorry," as she was rolled back over. "Air tubes up the spine, the suit locks in back, controls on the upper back where your slave can't reach, can't have her trying suicide, now. Release key on a tether..." The neck ring was unlocked, then relocked, as were her wrists. "Clever bit of engineering. The slave can work, but she's still secure."
Cassidy nodded, and Mattie sighed, "You are one crazy, masochistic slave, and I'm even crazier to go along with this." She unlocked the suit, "Skin out of that and go get a shower. Your study guides came, we can look at them later, I'll start looking at ships."
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"Happier?" Cassidy waggled her hand, and knelt. "Good," and Mattie pointed to two wrapped packages. "I'm sure that you'll be pleased to know I've found two absolutely adorable bits of fashion for you, they make a muumuu look like the height of Paris. You'll look fabulous in them." Cassidy whimpered in horror as Mattie cackled.
"Second thing, I'm tired of playing charades with you," and slapped the desk. "Amazing what the replicator will make if you ask it right. This is a legal pad and pencil, I hope your handwriting's OK. You can play deranged masochist slave all you want, as long as the job's done. I'm going to get a shower, any questions?"
Don't log out, please. Can I spend some money?
"Why not?" Cassidy tapped her collar, "Oh, right. What on?"
Something my oh-so-cruel Mistress will inflict on her poor slave. No more than 100 grams or so. The game's afoot, partner!
"Partner? Is that the way you want to play the game?" Cassidy nodded, underlining 'partner'. "Okay, you're on, partner. There are two allegedly 'chocolate' protein shakes on the table for breakfast. How do you plan to drink yours?"
The usual method is for the tube to be unlocked from the mask, the mixture poured down the slave's feeding tube. Take your time, Mistress; I don't know how long it will take to get the new toy.
"Hmf. I should have left you on the pole, but nooo... Twenty minutes?" Cassidy rocked back and forth, the neck on her tight mask forbidding head movements.
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Cassidy knocked and entered, waving her boxed 'toy' and the legal pad. First of all, only thirty-five grams! Cheap! Secondly, it's NOT chocolate, and it sure isn't the Hershey's I remember!
"It went okay?"
There was a bit of trouble getting the right angle to pour with this mask. It's nasty stuff, almost as bad as slave gruel. I needed something to eat, though. I've left the list of ships on the screen, with a list of reasons – we want the third ship. I don't know if you want to actually see the others or not.
"Why wouldn't we?"
Ever bought a used flit? (lined out) vehicle? Same type of salesbeing, unless you know what you're doing and can talk the talk, you're going to get...
"I get the picture, and you can't because..." Cassidy tapped her collar, nodding, Legally, socially, I don't exist. Whoopee. Ready to trade surprises? How bad a dress can it be, really?
Mattie grinned, "You wanna play slave, partner? We'll have to leave in thirty minutes."
Take the legal pad, please. I'll need some help tightening and adjusting it. Can I borrow a knife to open the package, Mistress?
"Allow me, can't have a poor slave commit suicide, now." The wrapping was slit on the bulky package and handed back.
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Cassidy smirked to herself, 'How bad of a dress could it be?' she wondered, as she unlocked her belt, withdrawing the catheters. 'Full discipline from your slave!' it promised. 'Mistress thinks she's got me with a full-head, deprivation model mask? I'll give her a masochist!' she thought. 'I'm a size six, but this is a size five and a half, should be nice and tight,' she thought, inserting the various appliances and locking them into place with a silent 'Oof!'. She started to tighten the integrated buckles, working her collar above the integral leash. She regarded herself in the mirror, rigidly erect in the tight black material. Her waist was drawn in as tightly as possible, encasing her from crotch to head, black shackles locked on her wrists and ankles, silver chain dangling from her throat below her glowing collar.
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'Well, I wanted it tight, and that's what I got,' Cassidy thought, her partner calling, "Cover your eyes and get out here, we need to go!" 'Easily enough done,' as she locked her eyes closed and groped her way out.
"Oh, my, is that a corset?" her partner said, "That is some getup. Arms out and I'll dress you, then we can go buy a ship." She touched the heavy material on her neck, framing her collar, "Can you breathe all right?" She nodded, feeling the tugs of the dress being fitted; then her eyes were uncovered.
"Like it?"
'It's yellow! Pale yellow, almost white, and ... ruffled!' she thought. 'This is a superbly ugly dress, and it's even shorter than the shift! I can't wear this!' She felt a tug on the leash, and her partner was collecting her notes. She tried to bend her head, but couldn't. 'How is this thing staying on? If I breathe wrong, it will slide down around my waist!' A tug on the leash, her partner was saying, "When we go out that door, our fun and games stop, the real work begins. We've got to depend on each other, and play our parts to perfection, agreed?" Cassidy nodded. "Okay, joke's over. Strip out of that crap and pull your shift on. We're taking public transit part way. I want to take a look at that corset later, though."
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Cassidy knelt as Mattie lounged, rereading her notes. She nudged her partner, and waited as she unfolded, standing at the tug on her leash. They left the car, walking up stairs and hailing a hover cab, where she was unceremoniously locked in the trunk. 'Well, I am cargo', she thought philosophically. "D'Nit yards," she heard the cabbie say as they stopped.
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"How may I help you?" the sales being smarmed.
Mattie yawned, giving a tug on Cassidy's leash. "I was looking for a small ship, just to flit about and maybe do a little trading," she said. "Daddy loaned me one of his slaves, she was one of those dirty people down with the engines, an assistant something on a liner, and she was on sale. She's to look about and give an opinion, and if it's the right one, she'll be rewarded. If it's one I don't like, I'll kill her and come back with another." She released Cassidy's hands from behind her, leaving her leash to drag in the purple grass. Thrusting the legal pad in her hands, she waved, "Off with you. Remember what I want, and what Daddy wants, wench." She fanned herself, "I'm so fatigued by this work! While she crawls about, we can talk."
Cassidy watched her partner walk off with the sales being, rubbing her wrists. 'I can't believe I'm the One!' she told herself, looking about. 'Now where is... there! The ship Great-Grandma names after me. ME! Little old nobody Cassidy Wayne Yates; the geek people laughed at in school, the stimulus to an economic and political empire. The empire that built Earth's first orbital elevator, ending the doldrums of the twentieth century, and all it requires is... my life.' She sighed, 'To work, and make it look good. It won't happen on it's own.'
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