Shadow of the Warmaster

5

The inner hatch opened and I dumped the speech fast. Six pretors trotted through, shoved me against the wall, no malice, just getting me out of the way. They split, three on each side, dark, massive, huge, as intimidating as two-leggers in battle armor ever get when they’re not actually coming at you. I sucked in my gut and waited.

A mirror-sphere about two meters across floated from the lock, moving along half a meter off the floor at a pace about that of a man out for an afterdinner stroll. It stopped in front of me; I thought it was inspecting me though it’s hard to tell what’s going on inside something when you’re staring at a funhouse version of yourself smeared across the outside. “The people, where are they?” It had a deep bass voice that oozed with authority.

“The hold, despois,” I said, being as polite as I knew how. Great god, I was thinking, one of the Seven? Hooo-eee, talk about your heavy support.

“Lead,” it said.

Very careful to keep my hands in view, I moved past the pretors and started for the dropshaft. I heard the guard clumping into position behind me, the sound echoed by a second sextet coming out of the lock; somewhere back there Marchog was moving up to the Bridge with his own pretors; he wouldn’t leave Slancy in our hands, not with one of the Seven aboard her. I didn’t like it, but I certainly wasn’t going to kick up a fuss. All I could do was hope this was a temporary dispossession.

The hold smelled like a roadshow zoo; I suppose Faceless in his sphere got filtered air, but I didn’t, it was enough to choke a goat. He drifted out to the middle and hovered there, reflecting the faces or whatever turned up to him. “You were slaves?” The basso burred out and bounced off the walls.

Some of them knew what they were looking at; whoever didn’t was getting the word fast if the hissing that spread through the hold meant what I thought. The Kakeran Posa Ala was the first to answer. He set his hands on his hips, glared up at his distorted reflection. “Klaan vem!” he growled. “Bolodo man put a kujjim collar round my neck. Five kujjim years and nobody did shit till Quale there come for us.”

Dey Chomedy and Leda Zag came elbowing through the thickening crowd about Posa Ala, the tall one opening a path for the little.

Dey Chomedy stomped her foot and growled, then shouted up at the sphere, “Bolodo men took me off my mountain, took me from my nest; they did not ask my consent, they did not pay my price. Seven years the masters milked my sweat and drank my tears and nothing did they pay. Was I slave? Ssss. Show me Bolodo man, let me take my pay from his flesh and his sweat and his blood.”

Leda Zag tapped the tall femme’s arm and was lifted to her shoulder. “So it was with me, despois, I traveled to a place for rest but I did not reach it. Before I reached it, a gas bomb filled my flickit; when I woke, I was in a scout on my way to Weersyll and beyond. For three years I mourned one dearer to me than the beat of my heart, for three years I suffered, until the man Quale and his companions took me from my servitude. It has not been easy coming home, not easy for me, not easy for any of us, but we suffer these small travails gladly because we are going home.”

I kept my face very straight and serious, though I enjoyed that little speech; we spent most of a warm afternoon up by the lake dickering over her fee for her affirmation of my noble contribution to her freedom. I was kicking back half the reward, to be paid into her dainty little hands the day I got it, golden gelders, coin not credit.

After that the rest of them yelled their anger, a confused hammering of sound. Even the mirror-sphere seemed to shudder and I was wondering if I’d get out of there with hearing intact.

“Quiet.” The basso boomed out, hammering back at the yammer in the hold. “Enough!” He had the advantage of amplification, but it was several minutes before he broke through and my collection of ex-slaves simmered down a bit.

“Helvetia has heard you,” he said. Big of him. “She will expedite your arrival and provide housing for you until this matter is cleared up. She will provide means of contacting your kin or other individuals concerned about you.”

Hmm, I thought, such generosity. Looks like they’ve already got a strangle hold on Bolodo’s assets and want to keep the noose tight, they can’t let the thought get round that they’re playing with client’s gelt. They ought to pay Adelaar’s expenses and double for a bonus, what a lovely present she’s dropped in their little laps. I kept my face immobile and my hands clasped behind me, but I was beginning to enjoy this quite a lot.

“Helvetia asks only,” the sphere boomed out, “that you agree to testify as to the circumstances of your abductions. Bolodo Neyuregg Ltd. is actively contesting the claims relayed to us by an agent of Swardheld Quale. Because we may invoke certain clauses in the Contract Bolodo Neyuregg Ltd. signed with us, in order to put several executives of that Company through Involuntary Verification, it may be necessary for some of you to pass through the Verifier and otherwise make identification of such individuals. If that is possible and within your knowledge. You will be compensated for the time and the harrowing of your emotions.”

The sphere drifted toward the tube. I got out of the way before I was shifted aside by the pretors and followed the procession from the hold.