Chapter 4 It was weeks later when Quasimodo announced to Carl that they were approaching Salarn and that his practice for the arena must become paramount. Carl spent all of his time working with Mmrot and Hairy, honing his skills. Then, finally, they arrived at Salarn. When they were loaded into the shuttle, Carl was angered to see Mmriss among the women joining them. While aboard ship, Mmriss tended the plants in the gardens which provided food and air in the ship. Seeing her in the shuttle reminded Carl forcibly that she had other duties. He was in a very dark mood by the time the shuttle landed. When the fighters left the shuttle, Carl was surprised to find Rurn and several other owners standing beside the ramp, surrounded by guards. They seemed to be indecisive, glancing around the landing field. Carl looked around and noticed that their shuttle was the only ship on the field, and that there was no welcoming committee to meet them. After several minutes, Rurn appeared to reach a decision. He directed two guards to escort Quasimodo and the fighters to a large building in one direction, while the rest of the group went with Rurn towards a group of low structures at the opposite end of the field. The building which Quasimodo led the fighters into was familiar to Carl, he had been in a few similar buildings on other worlds. It held an arena, waiting rooms, sleeping chambers, and probably medical facilities. This one was different, however, in that it seemed empty and abandoned. The hunchback led the fighters through dusty halls which echoed from their footsteps. They finally arrived at a large, dim waiting room. Mmrot scuffed the dust on the floor, kicking up a musty smelling cloud which made him sneeze. Hairy fingered a panel on the wall which should have brought up the lights in the room, but was rewarded only by a jaundiced looking glow which was only half as bright as normal. The guards fingered their rifles nervously and took up posts at the doorway, glancing up and down the empty corridor. There were several cabinets along the wall which would normally contain weapons for use in the arena, but when Quasimodo opened them he found only empty belts and the decaying remains of nets. Quasimodo surveyed the room quietly for several minutes, then he motioned to one of the guards. "You will come with me," he said, "We do not have a communicator. I must go to see Rurn and tell him of what we have found." He pointed at the other guard. "You will stay here and see that there is no trouble with the fighters." Then he left at a quick pace with the guard following behind him. The remaining guard looked very uncomfortable, splitting his attention between the group of fighters and the doorway. Hairy sat down beside Carl and commented dryly. "I wonder if the guard is to protect us from something, or to protect something from us." Mmrot laughed softly, fingering his black collar. "I don't think they fear we would go far." The cat man picked at a piece of peeling paint on the bench they were sitting on. "And it does not appear that there is anything here to fear. What do you suppose has happened here, Carl? This is not a normal reception for us." Carl eyed the nervous guard and the filthy room in which they sat. "From the looks of things, I would say this place has been abandoned," he said. "The dust on the floor hasn't been disturbed in a long time." He pointed at the footprints left by the fighters. One of the other fighters, a yellow skin, was working the controls of a food and water dispenser on the wall. After several minutes he was answered by a rattling noise and the door to the unit opened partially. He forced it open but did not touch the loathsome looking mess that was revealed inside. The sour smell from it filled the room before the fighter finally managed to get the trapdoor to open and take the smelly refuse away. Most of the fighters began pacing the floor. Carl moved to a fairly clean table along one wall and stretched out on it, deciding to rest and wait. Hairy and Mmrot took positions at either end of the table, leaning against the wall and watching the room. The guard remained standing at the door, fingering his rifle and looking worried. After a wait which seemed to stretch into hours, the guard finally turned towards Carl. "The corridor is growing dark," he said, "I think evening is falling." Carl sat up, favoring the man with a questioning look. The guard frowned and motioned at the darkening doorway. "Something is very wrong, here. Why has K'Srax not returned?" Carl glanced at Mmrot who simply shrugged and turned to the guard. "You ask us? What would mere fighters know of this?" The guard pointed at Carl, "You wear a gray collar," he said accusingly. "You tell me what I should do." Carl raised his eyebrows in surprise. Several of the fighters glanced at him, watching to see his reaction. Then the guard turned back to the door. "I hear someone coming, " he said, and stepped through the doorway. Suddenly the room was filled with the loud buzzing of the guard's rifle, and then the guard staggered back into the room, his chest pierced with a spear. The fighters made a mad scramble to the walls on either side of the doorway. Mmrot pulled the body of the guard to the side and Carl picked up the man's rifle. After a quick examination, Mmrot looked up at Carl and shook his head. Then he placed one foot on the guard's chest and pulled the spear free. Carl was flat against the wall, straining to hear any sounds of movement from the hall. Mmrot touched his shoulder and hissed. Carl glanced at him and Mmrot gestured with the spear. "This is a Kahari lance, the weapon of a warrior of the People. It must be one of my race that killed the guard." Carl lay against the wall, clearly hearing the movements of more than one person in the hallway. "Talk to them," he said quietly, "tell them who you are and ask why they are attacking us." Mmrot nodded and called out in a tongue Carl had not heard him use before. The cat man was answered by a guttural voice from the hallway. Carl was sure from the sound that the speaker must be just outside the doorway. Mmrot spoke several times, and was answered by the same voice. The cat man shook his head. "That one makes no sense. He says that we have invaded a sacred place and will die for it. I tried to tell him that I am also of the People, but he says we bear the mark of the evil ones, and must all be destroyed." Carl frowned. Then he made several gestures at the other fighters in the room, pantomiming what he wanted them to do. Hairy took up a position opposite of Carl and Mmrot, but the other fighters merely watched Carl in confusion. Carl started to try again to get the fighters to assume defensive positions when there was a loud bellow in the hallway and several forms came flying through the doorway. The room was immediately filled with struggling forms who yelled and shouted inarticulately. Unable to use the rifle for fear of shooting one of the fighters from the ship, Carl stepped into the hallway, quickly looking both ways. He came almost face to face with a tall figure who was carrying a net and knife. He fired the rifle from the hip, dropping his opponent. Seeing no one else in the corridor, Carl grabbed the weapons from the fallen figure and ducked back into the room. Hairy had already managed to acquire a sword from one of the attackers, and was laying about himself in a deadly fashion. Carl whipped the net around the feet of two figures who were dancing around the benches. The two were trying to dodge past the lance Mmrot was skillfully wielding, to get at the cat man. Four other fighters from the ship were wrestling on the floor with other attackers, while the remaining ship people were lying about the floor. There were several other bodies showing that they had not gone down peacefully. Carl took careful aim and shot one of the attackers he had tangled in the net, and Mmrot tackled the other, breaking his neck as he slammed him to the floor. Mmrot immediately jerked the net free and threw it at two of the attackers who were confronting Hairy. This gave the short fighter his opportunity and he quickly lunged, dispatching his opponents. The room was suddenly quiet. Mmrot stood in the doorway, looking up and down the corridor while Carl and Hairy checked on the fighters. Five men from the ship were dead, including the guard. The rest were not seriously injured and were busily arming themselves from their fallen attackers. Carl counted and discovered that there was a total of seventeen dead on the floor of the room. Including himself, there were seven left standing. He examined the dead attackers and called Mmrot from the door, having Hairy and another fighter replace him. "Are you sure these are members of your race?" The cat man looked at the heavy thatch of hair on the dead man's head, and the thick, hairless legs and arms. Then he pried the corpse's mouth open and checked the teeth. He hissed, "there are differences, but yes, this is one of the People." Carl thought of what Mmrot had told him about the Gatt breeding the People aboard ship and how they had changed from the original strain. It appeared that here, too, the race had changed from it's roots. Hairy spoke softly from the corridor. "I think perhaps we should try to get back to the shuttle. If we remain here, others may follow these." Carl nodded, acknowledging the wisdom of that. He checked that the fighters were all armed, then led the small group out into the corridor. They walked back in the direction they had come when entering. It was a long walk and many of the corridors were now almost totally dark. When they reached the front of the building, Mmrot suddenly grabbed Carl's arm. The cat man sniffed the air and made a face. He gestured for the group to follow, and led them down a side hall. He came to a doorway which opened on a well lit room. The fighters readied themselves and them burst into the room, Carl leading with the rifle. What they found in the room, however, made them run, gagging, back into the corridor. Carl had the four other fighters stand guard in the hallway, and led Hairy and Mmrot back into the room. The cat man held his nose and hissed angrily, staying by the door. Carl and Hairy approached the bloody mess on the far wall. Carl lifted one head, and then the other. The faces were recognizable as Quasimodo and the guard who had left with him. The two had been spread-eagled on the wall, pinned in place by vicious looking lances, and then mutilated. From the looks frozen on their dead faces, it appeared that it had been a slow and painful process. Carl remembered the cruel treatment he had received at the hands of the yellow skinned hunchback while he had been training. He had wanted to seek revenge against the alien for the callously inflicted pain, but nothing as savage as this. It was sickening. Whoever had done this had been bent on prolonged torture. Carl shook his head, then reached over and pushed the eyelids closed over the hunchback's bulging eyes. The three left the room and the group quickly traced their way back to the front of the building. From the doorway they could see the shuttle, nearly a mile away on the landing pad. A light shown brightly from the main hatchway and the field was clear around it. They cautiously opened the door, listening for any sounds. As quietly as they could, they crept forward. It was night and a moon was behind the building, giving them a pool of shadow to hide in for a short distance. Suddenly one of the fighters yelped and fell to the ground, a spear through his thigh. Other spears were falling around them and there were yells coming from the shadows surrounding the building. Carl whipped around and fired in the direction from which the spears and yelling was coming. He had the satisfaction of hearing a screech in response to one of his shots. Hairy and another fighter grabbed the fallen man and the group broke into a run, heading for the shuttle. Twice Carl stopped, spinning around to kneel and shoot at dark shapes which ventured far enough out of the shadows to be targets. Both times the attackers fell to the brilliant crimson ray from the rifle. They reached the shuttle and scrambled up the ramp. Once inside, Mmrot slapped the button which closed the hatch. Two guards with rifles trained their weapons on the fighters until Carl handed over the rifle he carried. Then they demanded what had happened and where Rurn was. Carl quickly explained, then had to explain again as he was taken forward to the pilot's cabin. The pilot, a younger member of Rurn's family, blanched at the news. "What of Rurn?" he asked, his voice full of agitation. Carl shook his head. "We haven't seen him since we left the shuttle," he explained. The pilot punched a button on the console beside him. He waited several seconds, then punched it again. Then he slapped it and turned an frightened look towards Carl. "The guards do not answer the communicator call. You must go and find Rurn!" Carl frowned and said, "Call the ship, have them send down reinforcements." The Gatt shook his head. "I cannot. The ship is in orbit and is on the other side of the planet, the communicator in the shuttle is not powerful enough to reach them. It will be several hours before we can contact them again." Carl swore, then returned to the main cabin where Hairy was giving first aid to the injured fighter. He opened the hatch and stared out into the night. Then he turned to the guards. "We need to go and find Rurn and the others." The guards looked at one another uncertainly. The pilot spoke to the guards from the doorway to his cabin. "Go with them, I can close the shuttle. Nothing can pierce it's hull." Mmrot was looking out the door at the darkness, growling in his throat. Carl slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Mmriss is with Rurn," Carl said quietly, "let's go and get them." Mmrot hissed and turned, it was obvious from his face that the thought of his litter-mate was more on his mind than Rurn, just as it was with Carl. One of the guards handed Carl the rifle he had been carrying when he arrived at the shuttle. When Carl gave him a surprised look, the guard shrugged and commented, "From the description you gave the pilot, we're going to need all the firepower we can get." Carl turned to the pilot. "Okay. Turn off all external lights. We will head for the buildings in darkness. As soon as we reach the buildings, we will tell you over the communicators. When we do, flood the landing area with light. When we are ready to return, we will re-contact you." The pilot nodded, looking none too sure of the likelihood that the fighters would return. Leaving the injured fighter sedated in the shuttle along with the pilot, the men slipped from the darkened hatch. In a huddled line they ran behind Carl towards the buildings Rurn had headed for. They reached the first building with no evidence they had been spotted. Carl tried the doors and found them frozen shut, blocked with dirt and corrosion. The group quietly moved to the next building. The doors of the second building were missing, torn from their frames. Inside the building the floor was covered with blown dirt and refuse. Mmrot eyed the dark interior with distaste. "Look, the dirt inside is undisturbed. If Rurn had entered there would be tracks." One of the guards stepped inside and examined the floor, then returned nodding his agreement with the cat man's assessment. When they approached the third building, one of the guards whispered harshly to Carl. "I recognize this design, it is an administration hall." They climbed the steps and found that here, too, the doors were missing and the inside was full of blown dirt and trash. This time, however, there was plenty of evidence of recent comings and goings. Carl pulled the guard who had spoken to the side. "Do you know where Rurn would have gone first?" The guard looked at the darkened interior hesitantly, then nodded. "To the office of the prime administrator. I can find that. Follow me." The guard cautiously led the group into the building. They moved into a corridor which sloped down, along the side of the building. The hallway was dim, but moonlight came in through enough broken windows to allow them to see. As they moved farther into the building, they began to hear faint noises. When they had gone far enough to hear them clearly, Hairy commented grimly. "That is rifle fire, and the same yells we heard from our attackers in the arena building. At least the rifle fire tells us that some of our people are still alive." The guard stopped at an intersection of halls and pointed to an upward sloping ramp. "That should give on a balcony that overlooks the main assembly hall. Perhaps we should see from there what is happening." Carl nodded and the group moved up the ramp. The top of the ramp opened into an area filled with rows of seats. They walked down through these and found themselves looking over a railing into a chamber filled with more rows of seats. The room was lit by moonlight which came through an enormous oval opening in the ceiling. From the debris on the floor Carl guessed that it had once been a giant glass dome. Now the center of the seats below was a mass of wreckage and the top of the building was open to the sky. They watched the scene below for several minutes, unable to tell what was happening. Then Mmrot touched Carl's arm and pointed. Among the seats along one side there were several dark shapes, moving slowly and keeping to the shadows. Then a shape jumped up and threw something towards a series of windows and doors along one wall. The shape dropped back to the floor just as a crimson ray flashed through the place it had been. The shot was answered by a taunting chorus of yells. Mmrot hissed and pointed again. On the floor under the windows were several bodies. Carl could make out the dark red uniforms which marked where the four guards had fallen. There were five other bodies among them and Carl felt his heart catch in his chest, two of those were wearing the brightly colored skirts which marked them as women from the ship! Hairy's voice came calmly to Carl. "I see yellow and red. Mmriss wore blue, did she not?" Mmrot nodded, his breath coming in harsh hisses. Carl motioned for them to move back from the edge. Then he pointed to the guards and spoke quickly and quietly. "Can you hit the men on the floor from up here?" One of the guards shook his head. "We can hit some, yes, but there are too many, most will be able to hide before we can get them all." He pointed to the door through which they had entered the balcony. "There is only one door to this area, they will trap us up here." Carl shook his head. "I want one of you up here, to shoot as many of those on the floor as you can get. The other I want down in the corridor, opposite the ramp which leads here. He will shoot anyone who tries for the ramp. The rest of us will be waiting downstairs. As soon as you start shooting, we will make a run for Rurn and the others." The guards exchanged looks, then nodded. "It should work," one commented, "I am the better shot. I will stay here." The others quietly moved back down the ramp to take up their positions. The fighters moved to a hallway which opened onto the main floor of the audience chamber. Carl could see two figures on the floor across the room. While the fighters waited, Hairy whispered softly. "I just hope that he doesn't shoot us." Carl motioned for quiet and pointed out the path he wanted the group to take. They were just starting to creep across the floor when they heard the loud buzzing of the rifle and saw a lance of red strike down from above. The rifle began spitting in a regular pattern, picking at the dark shapes between the rows of chairs. The room was immediately filled with yells and the shrieks of injured men. Carl rose to his knees and laid the rifle he held across the back of a chair, firing at the shapes as they stood to run. When he hit the third one he saw additional fire coming from the doorway across the room. Caught in a three way crossfire, the skulking figures were cut down as they tried to make a hasty retreat. Several times Carl was just ready to fire on a crouching runner, only to have the shape suddenly drop and scream, showing where the other fighters from the ship were moving. After a furious few minutes there was a lull in the firing and a voice floated down from above. "I think that's all in the main room." Carl quickly dashed across the floor towards the far wall. He called out as he ran, "Rurn!" He heard the throaty croak of the senior owner answer. "Who is there?" He yelled back from the protection of a row of seats. "Carl Axton. I have guards and fighters with me." He made a stooped dash to the doorway, followed by Mmrot. A second later Hairy rolled though the door. Carl looked around the room. It appeared to be some kind of office. There were several desks pushed up to the front wall, blocking the windows and most of the door. Crouched behind them were two owners and half a dozen women. Mmrot went straight to Mmriss and stood beside her. Rurn and the other owner were holding rifles and looking sharply out the door. "The others are dead," Rurn croaked. "Can we get out of here?" Carl returned the Gatt's look and nodded. "I think so, but we had better hurry." He moved out the doorway, followed by the others. As they passed the fallen guards, Hairy and Mmrot each picked up a rifle from the ground. They all moved to the shelter of the rows of chairs. There was the buzzing sound of rifle fire and Carl looked up. He couldn't see the shape of the guard on the balcony. Then came the sound of another shot and a muffled yell. Carl waved at the others and called out, "Come on, it sounds like more are on their way." With Mmriss and Mmrot on one side and Rurn and the others on his other side, Carl led the group across the room. Suddenly Mmriss let out a sharp yell and fell. Carl turned in time to see Mmrot dive to the floor and he could hear the sounds of a struggle. He jumped over a line of chairs and found Mmrot kneeling beside Mmriss, the body of her dead attacker lying on the floor beside her. Mmriss was huddled in a tight ball, her knees against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs. Mmrot was tearing strips from the hem of her skirt and tying them tightly around her upper thighs, forming crude tourniquets on both legs. "The filth was lying in the shadows," Mmrot bit out through clenched teeth. Carl crouched beside them scanning the immediate area. "How bad is it?" he asked, almost fearing to hear the answer. "Bad enough," Mmrot spit back, his face a savage mask. Lek, the other surviving owner, scuttled over and looked down at Mmriss. He shook his head and commented angrily, "She'll never make it like that." He pointed the rifle at her head and Mmrot howled, throwing himself between the Gatt and Mmriss. Carl's hands made a lightning fast grab, yanking the rifle from the astonished owner. Rurn hurtled a line of chairs and landed beside them, his rifle covering the entire group. He croaked harshly, "What is this?" He looked down at Mmrot and Mmriss with a scowl. Then he looked at Carl who was holding two rifles with their muzzles casually pointing towards Rurn and Lek. The senior owner's eyes narrowed. Carl grimaced and threw one rifle back at Lek. His voice was harsh as he spoke to Rurn. "We'll never get out of here alive if we start fighting among ourselves. I'll carry the girl." Rurn looked uncertain, then came the sound of more rifle fire in the distance. Rurn cringed at the sound and croaked, "you'll be slowed too much. Leave her!" Carl ignored the owner and lifted the now limp form of Mmriss over his shoulder. He held the rifle in one hand, using the other to steady the cat woman. He gestured with the rifle and barked, "Come on, let's get moving." Rurn hesitated for a moment, but followed when Carl and the fighters began a loping run across the room. The group reached the door to the corridor and Mmrot hissed, motioning the group to halt. Carl whispered sharply, "Hairy, Mmrot, back to back and low. Everyone else, be prepared to move fast." He waited for a nod from each of his two friends, then hissed "Now!" Hairy and Mmrot rolled into the corridor, Hairy shooting to the left, Mmrot to the right. As soon as they stopped firing, Carl lunged into the corridor, calling behind him, "Come on!" Mmrot sprang up and took the lead with Hairy falling back to cover the group's rear. They ran for a short distance, then Mmrot suddenly halted. The corridor in front of him was littered with bodies. He raked them with fire from the rifle and howled in triumph as one tried to roll away, only to be burned down by the crimson ray. When the buzzing from Mmrot's rifle stopped, a voice came from down the hall. "Fighter, is that you?" It was one of the guards. "Yes," Carl yelled back, "and we have Rurn and the others." The two dim shapes of the guards joined them. One was holding his arm against his body but still held his rifle in the other hand. As he walked up Carl could see his grin in the dim light. "Your plans were excellent, fighter! They tried to rush us four times. We took turns firing on them from different directions and they never did figure out what we were doing." The guard turned and pointed down the corridor. "We'd better get moving, though. There'll be more any minute, I'm sure." Carl had the two guards join Mmrot in the fore-guard and the group set off at a fast pace. The weight of Mmriss on Carl's shoulder seemed like a lifeless sack. She had not made a single move nor uttered a sound since he had picked her up, and he was beginning to worry. He knew that the tourniquets needed to be loosened soon but they had no time to stop. When the group reached the front of the building, Carl called them to a halt before they entered the large entrance room. He quickly hissed instructions to the guards and his two friends. On Carl's command the two guards rolled into the room, firing wildly at the walls. At the same time Mmrot and Hairy leaped out into the center of the room, landing in a crouch, back to back. The two fighters followed the guards' wild shots with accurate sniping at figures which seemed to spring from the walls. A noise behind the group still in the hallway alerted Carl and he spun around, firing his rifle single-handedly over the heads of the owners and women behind him. The crimson ray filled the corridor as the people from the ship hastily dropped to the floor. Carl continued firing and was joined after a moment by Rurn who crouched beside him. Yells and screams in the shadows told Carl that they had been trailed by a large group of would-be attackers. Afraid that too long a stop would give their enemies a chance to surround them, Carl yelled at Rurn. "Let's make a run for the ship!" Without waiting for a response, Carl spun and charged into the entry room. The others were on his heels as he broke from the doorway and sprang down the steps. Two shapes that jumped from the shadows were dropped by raking flashes from Carl's rifle. He could hear one of the guards yelling into a communicator and he saw the light of the hatchway shine out from the side of the shuttle. Carl saw Mmrot and Hairy stop several times and fire back towards the buildings, but Mmriss was beginning to become a leaden weight so Carl just kept on running. His legs were giving out as he reached the ramp and he stopped to catch his breath. Hands grabbed Mmriss from his shoulder and pulled him up the ramp. Once inside the shuttle, Carl pushed his way to Mmriss' side. He gently released the tourniquets and massaged her legs, examining the vicious slashes. He could see severed muscles and arteries in the wounds, both of which had gone clear to the bone. Blood began pouring from the wounds and he quickly re-tightened the cloth strips. He heard the hatchway slam shut and felt the shuttle roar to life, but Carl sat on the floor with Mmriss' head in his lap. Rurn came over and stared down at them for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then the owner disappeared into the pilot's cabin, followed by Lek. The trip back to the ship seemed endless. Twice more Carl released the strips of cloth on the cat woman's legs, fearing the worst as the flow of blood was less each time. When the shuttle hatchway opened, Carl tried to stand and found his legs too cramped to hold his weight. Mmriss was taken away by two older looking cat women and Hairy and Mmrot helped Carl to stand. When they exited the shuttle, they found the fighters and the guards standing in a group with Rurn and Lek standing to one side. Rurn motioned at Carl and he walked over towards the pale skinned alien, suddenly realizing that he was back where Rurn held the power of life and death over them all. The moment in the building where Carl had defied the owner was vivid in his mind. Rurn eyed him quietly for a long time and Carl shifted nervously from foot to foot as the cramps began to return to his legs. Then the pale skinned owner croaked loudly. "Carl Axton. Without you we would all probably be dead down on Salarn." He eyed the other fighters for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "The guards tell me K'Srax is dead. You will take his place as head slave. I also give you freedom of the whole ship." He gestured at Hairy and Mmrot, who were standing by the other fighters. "K'Srax was not the only trainer to die down below. These two will take the places of those who died. I name them as trainers." Lek burst out in surprise and anger. "Rurn!" He jabbed a finger at Mmrot. "That one is a Shek! You would make it a trainer?" Then he whirled and glared accusingly at Carl. "And this one attacked me and defied you! What madness is this?" Rurn stood straight, staring down the shorter Gatt. "I am senior owner," he spat with force. "I make the decisions here!" Lek took a step back, surprise replacing anger on his face. Rurn pointed at Mmrot and croaked at Carl. "You will be responsible for every move that this one makes, Carl Axton. He has earned this position but I grant it with reservation. His race is crafty and not to be trusted. Watch him carefully." He glared at Lek for a moment, then turned back to Carl, his face showing grave warning. "This is a great privilege I bestow on you, but it also has great responsibilities." Then the owner's toad like face split with a smile. "You will have new quarters as befits your new rank. Choose your staff as you will. I give you the injured woman, if she survives. She is now your personal property." Rurn then turned and stomped out, followed by the guards. Lek favored Carl with a jaundiced look before he followed Rurn. Carl watched the pale skinned alien leave with mixed emotions. Then he turned to Mmrot, whose face showed astonishment. "Where have they taken Mmriss?" Carl asked. Mmrot shook himself out of his bemused trance and turned to Carl. "This way," the cat man responded. He led Carl down into the slave quarters, to a room similar to the one which contained the Doc tables in the pits. An older cat woman was standing at a closed table, studying the readouts on the cover. When Mmrot approached she turned and favored them with a questioning look. "How is she? Will Mmriss be all right?" Carl asked, his concern plain in his voice. The cat woman regarded him curiously for a moment before answering. "I do not know. There was something on the blade which cut her, and the injuries are severe. The legs were a long time without blood as well. It does not look good." Carl clenched his fists, feeling helpless. The woman saw his distress and commented softly, "In the days of our fathers it would have been a simple thing to repair injuries such as these. Over the ages the People have changed, though, and the medical tables do not work on us as well as they did for those of the ancient blood. Time will tell us, fighter, time alone will tell us." Mmrot took Carl by the arm and led him from the room. The two men walked back to the stairs and climbed up to the administration level. At the top of the stairs they were met by Hairy and a guard. The guard pressed a disk against Mmrot's neck and lifted away the black collar. In it's place he slipped a gray loop, the match of one already on Hairy's neck. Then he handed Mmrot the slender rod of a pain lash. Mmrot stared at it for a moment, then hissed. Carl placed a gentle hand on the cat man's arm. "Rest my friend," Carl spoke softly. "What we all need now is rest." The guard walked away and Hairy led them through the corridors to a doorway. He pushed a panel and the door opened onto a large room. There were several large chairs and a couch in the room and the three fighters dropped gratefully into them, falling quickly into sleep. Chapter 5 Carl awoke early the next morning and found Mmrot and Hairy still asleep in the large chairs they had fallen into the night before. He quietly arose and began exploring his new quarters. The room they had slept in was apparently a central area for the living quarters, similar to but larger than the one in the quarters Carl had used as a trainer. In addition to the couch and lounge chairs, it held a large table with chairs of it's own. And besides the door through which the three fighters had entered the night before, there were two other exits from the room. The first door Carl explored let him into a small hallway which had several more doors opening off of it. Four of the doors opened into rooms which were the same as the one Carl had used after being promoted to trainer. At the end of the hall another door opened into a room with a shower and toilet facilities. Carl marveled at the luxury of a private bath, pleased that he would no longer have to share the smelly and crowded community showers he had used since his capture. He returned to the main room and went to see where the other doorway led. It opened on a large bedroom. Against one wall was a huge bed and in the center of the room was a couch, two chairs, and a table nearly as large as the one in the main room. In one corner was an alcove with a desk and it's own chair. There was a doorway on the far side of the room behind which Carl discovered another bath facility, smaller than the first and apparently for the sole use of the large room's occupant. Awed by the luxurious apartments he had been assigned, Carl walked about the large bedroom, touching each item of furnishing. He sat down at the desk in the alcove and his attention was caught by the wall at it's back. It was made of a shiny, translucent material that looked like it might be a window which had been painted over on the back. Carl touched it and found it's surface to have an almost oily feel. He was opening the drawers in the desk and examining the writing tools and plastic sheets he discovered inside when he heard a sharp hiss. Mmrot was standing in the doorway to the room. The cat man's eyes were wide, showing his surprise at the sight. Carl greeted him with a smile which broadened as the cat man moved to the side and let Hairy into the room. The short fighter gave the room a wide eyed survey, ending at last on Carl's face. "This is a promotion, indeed," he commented wryly. Carl laughed and asked, "Have you seen your rooms?" When they answered negatively, Carl led them to the hallway and showed them the bedrooms and the private bath. The two fighters, who were used to the communal facilities of the pits, were astonished by the private bathroom. When they returned to the main room, Mmrot was almost glowing with exultation. "This is as good as the rooms of any of the owners! These must have been officers' quarters back in the ancient days," Mmrot said, a hint of a purr present in his voice. He sat at the large table, rubbing his hand over the smooth top. Hairy walked over to a wall and stood, examining a rectangular recess centered about half way from the ceiling to the floor. "What is this?" he asked. Mmrot looked up at it curiously for a moment, then shrugged. "It is a night light, I think. I have seen one or two of them in rooms on the upper floors, when I was exploring as a child. Press your hand in the middle and it lights up until it is pressed again." Hairy pressed the panel and nothing happened. Puzzled, Mmrot walked over and pressed it and was rewarded by a dim light. Hairy pressed it again with no result, but the panel went dark when Mmrot touched it a second time. Carl, watching his two friends curiously, commented, "it must be faulty. I'm surprised that as many things work on this ship as do, if it's as old as you say, Mmrot." The cat man smiled broadly. "The People built this ship to last forever, Garl Ashton. The ship cares for itself and can make it's own repairs as long as it has the raw materials to work with. Otherwise it would have crumbled to dust long years ago. This ship is a wondrous thing. Legend says that when it was commanded by the People, it had a mind of it's own, like a living creature, and took it's orders in speech directly from the captain." Hairy made a disparaging sound, but Carl accepted the assertion thoughtfully. "That might actually be true, my friend. When I was captured I was traveling to a world of my people where there is a great place of learning. I was to be a student there to study the science of my people which deals with machines that think. My people have machines which talk and accept orders in speech and the greatest of those machines are very like our own minds. They are often spoken of as if they were living, thinking creatures, but that is not really true. They are only very cleverly made machines. However, it takes a true expert to tell the actions of one them from those of a living creature." Hairy favored Carl and Mmrot with a disbelieving look, then eyed the panel on the wall. "If this ship repairs itself, then why does this light not work?" He pressed several times with no result. Mmrot smiled and pressed his palm to it, causing it to light. "Perhaps, my short and hairy friend, the ship might recognize that you are not a member of the race which built it, and does not think you deserve a night light." Hairy smiled back at Mmrot and stated calmly, "Perhaps, my pointed eared friend, the ship might recognize that my night vision is superior to yours and knows that I do not need a night light." Observing the friendly banter between the two fighters, Carl felt a strong feeling of contentment. He looked around the room and began to feel relaxed. In the time since he had been captured, he had risen from a lowly slave, to champion fighter, to trainer, and now to head slave. It appeared that rather than the cold blooded, slaving monsters Carl had first envisioned them to be, Rurn and the other owners were simply a race of beings living in the fashion they had learned from birth. It also seemed that Rurn was willing to allow Carl to rise to whatever level he could achieve, and Carl was confident that with friends such as Mmrot and Hairy at his side, it would not be too much longer before he found a way for all of them to walk out of the slave pits and join the ranks of free men. Carl's first official act as head slave, was to call a meeting of all the trainers and administrators. He informed them of the incident which had resulted in himself being placed in charge of the slaves and announced that he would be instituting major changes in the ways that the slave population of the ship was handled. His first change was to limit the use of the pain lashes. He described a simple set of rules to govern the behavior of the slaves and stated the punishments which would be leveled for violating them. Any other usage of the pain lashes would be reviewed by Carl himself, and if found to be unwarranted, the offender would lose his status and be banished to the pits. This caused a large amount of grumbling among the trainers. He went on to state that until he had had a chance to review the way that maintenance personnel and other slaves with duties outside the pits were handled, he would leave methods of dealing with those people unchanged, except for the restrictions on the use of the pain lashes. The training of the fighters in the pits, however, would be changed. Fights to the death would no longer be allowed. Weapons would be dulled and practice armor would be constructed to prevent unnecessary injury to the fighters during practice. The maintenance personnel would be required to work with the trainers in the design and fabrication of the armor. Furthermore, Carl announced, the method of training fighters would be changed. Trainers would choose the fighter most skilled in each weapon and fighting style, and that fighter would be required to assist the trainers in teaching the other fighters how to improve their skills with that weapon. All fighters would be required to assist one another and would receive rewards based on their contribution to the training of others, not on their ability to kill one another. The final change which Carl announced, was a restriction on trainers and administrators against the abuse of the women in the slave quarters. He ordered that they were no longer to take any woman against her will, and stated simply that violators of this rule would face summary execution. This brought several people to their feet in protest, but Mmrot and Hairy yelled most of them down. One, D'Hax, a trainer who had a reputation for brutalizing women, refused to yield. "This is madness! You are a fool if you think that you can change our whole world in the blink of an eye! Outlawing fights to the death! Dulling the points and edges of the weapons! Armor! These are the ideas of a weakling. This will teach the fighters nothing but sloth and softness. Fighters trained this way will die like children in the arena! You are a fool and a coward, Carl Axton! I do not accept these new rules and will not obey you!" The room was filled with grumbles and mutters of agreement with D'Hax's challenge. Carl walked over and stood face to face with D'Hax. He sensed the same feeling of calm calculation settling over him as he felt when he was entering the arena. His senses seemed to sharpen and his thoughts became crystal clear. He looked the trainer over from head to foot. The man was very dangerous, an experienced fighter from the pits, who had graduated to trainer only after losing an eye in a combat. His speed, Carl knew, was still that of a fully trained and combat ready fighter. Carl folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the shorter man's face with a look of disdain. His voice filled the room when he spoke. "D'Hax, do not fill our ears with bleating about fighters. You enjoy abusing women, the same women who would ignore you without your pain lash. That is what really motivates your rebellion, the loss of the privilege of torturing women who have no recourse against you. It is you who is a fool and coward!" D'Hax snarled and made a lightning move with his hands. Carl felt a blast of agony from the trainer's pain lash as it was shoved full against his chest. He forced himself to stand unmoving under the pain of the lash for a full three heartbeats, staring back into D'Hax's hate filled face. Then he lashed out with an arm, catching the astonished trainer totally off guard. The edge of Carl's hand struck D'Hax under the ear and the trainer's neck snapped with a sickening pop. His body fell lifeless to the floor. Total silence filled the room as Carl stood, looking at the stunned faces. Then his voice thundered. "Is there anyone else who challenges my authority here?" The silence remained unbroken in the room. Carl found the eyes of several who had protested his new rules, and each time he looked at them, their eyes fell hastily to the floor. Carl abruptly turned and left the room, Mmrot and Hairy close on his heels. When the three had made several turns, putting distance between themselves and the assemblage of trainers and administrators, Hairy spoke quietly. "There will still be some problems, Carl Axton. Killing D'Hax was a good move, though. A distasteful thing, true, but necessary. That one would never have accepted the restrictions." Mmrot hissed and made a spitting noise. "D'Hax attacked! He would have killed Carl with that lash and those fools would have applauded him. There was no choice!" Carl continued walking in silence, the picture of D'Hax's body lying on the floor crystal clear in his mind. The numbness which normally enveloped him after a kill in the arena was absent, leaving him feeling shaky and nauseated. Silently he damned himself for allowing it to come to the point where another killing had been necessary. He had not planned on that when he had decided to announce his changes. He knew, however, that the single death now would help to save many lives in the long run, lives that would have been lost on the practice floor and in the arena. He wandered the hallways aimlessly for nearly an hour before he realized what he was doing. He glanced guiltily at Mmrot and Hairy, and saw concern in both of their faces. It was late and Carl decided to retire to his room and get some rest. When the three fighters returned to the apartments, they were surprised to find an armed guard standing outside the door. The guard pointed his rifle at them and ushered them into the rooms. Seated at the table in the main room were two of the pale skinned owners, Rurn and Lek. The senior owner motioned for Carl to take the seat opposite him. Carl sat down slowly, an ominous feeling of dread filling him. Rurn sat quietly for several minutes, coolly watching Carl. When he finally spoke, his words were calmly quiet. "Lek recorded your meeting with the trainers and administrators, Carl Axton." A chill crept down Carl's back. He glanced at Lek and saw a cold smile on the Gatt's pale face. Rurn continued icily, "I told you that you have complete freedom in the way you handle the slaves, but I did not expect anything such as this. Tell me, exactly what is your intent with these new rules you have imposed?" Carl returned Rurn's gaze as calmly as he could, forcing his feelings of worry into the background. "It is my belief, after living and working with these slaves, that they will respond better to this than they do to the simple threat of punishment." Lek snorted derisively, "Fool! Who cares what your beliefs are? We have trained slaves for ages with the lash. We KNOW what works best!" Rurn silenced Lek with a hand motion and the shorter Gatt scowled but dropped into silence. "Continue, Carl Axton. Explain yourself," Rurn said with a tone which managed to sound both friendly and threatening.. "My way will give them a goal to work towards, in addition to a penalty for failure. In my experience a system of both rewards and punishment, with clear guidelines to govern it, motivates any creature to achieve better." The senior owner regarded Carl through unblinking eyes, taking a long time to digest Carl's words. He glanced at Lek who was still scowling at Carl. He nodded, then his voice croaked softly, "You are a strange creature, Carl Axton, and you have ideas I have never before encountered. But I am a gambler by nature, and I have gambled on you successfully up until now. I will continue this gamble for the time being." Lek shifted angrily in his seat but kept his silence when Rurn favored him with a hard glance. Rurn went on, "I warn you, though. If this game is lost, if your changes do not improve the performance of the slaves, then your life will be the penalty I claim for it." Carl felt the deadliness in Rurn's voice and knew a chill deep in his soul. The owner stood and walked out of the apartments, followed by Lek and the guard. As the door closed behind them, Carl let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. Mmrot hissed and spat towards the door. Carl snorted and said, "I agree with your sentiments, Mmrot." Hairy was looking at the door speculatively. "That one, Lek," he spoke softly. "He will not forget what happened on Salarn. I do not know which angers him more, having you take the rifle from him and defy Rurn's orders, Carl Axton, or owing you for rescuing him and the others from the savages. I think it is Lek's objections, though, that cause Rurn to want to take this gamble on you. More that, I think, than any like for your ideas." Carl reflected on Hairy's words, then shrugged. "Rurn is the senior owner. He is the one that really counts. I will keep watch for Lek, though. Your concern there is well founded." Carl slapped his hands together. "Now, let's make sure that this gamble by Rurn is one that WE win." The three fighters immediately set about discussing the measures that would be necessary to implement Carl's plans. The next few days were very busy, indeed, for the three of them as they had meeting after meeting with various administrators, trainers, and fighters. Many of the other slaves resisted the changes, but the fighters, after a brief period of confusion, took to the new training with relish. All it took to motivate them was the realization that their ability to survive in the arena was improving. And the results of cross training came quickly, with almost all fighters showing immediate improvement in their skills. Carl found that he was judged the best fighter with many weapons and, even though he was senior slave, he refused to excuse himself from the training sessions. He worked several hours each day, drilling fighters in various weapons techniques. Hairy and Mmrot, too, spent long hours in the fighting room drilling eager men in techniques of attack and defense, many of which were discovered or refined during the training itself. Even more exhausting than the training of the fighters was the work with the administrative personnel. It took long hours to get the slaves to reveal to Carl the jealously guarded secrets which they harbored in each insular area of ship management. Carl found hundreds of examples of duplicated work and totally meaningless rituals. He had to use threats of physical violence on several of the oldest administrators to force them to open up and exchange information with others. And getting them to change their ways was often even more difficult. He ended up demoting several top administrators and replacing them with younger, more open minded workers. Slowly, Carl began to gather a complete picture of the management task involved in running the huge star ship. The size of the ship, alone, was boggling to Carl. He had visualized each deck of the ship to be roughly the same size as the slave decks and was astonished to discover that the living areas were actually only a tiny percentage of the total area of the ship. Mmrot had described the ship as having 16 decks. That was true as long as one was only talking about living areas and administration. The rest of the ship, mostly mammoth cargo bays, was enormous. And the majority of the areas were full of materials, supplies, and no one knew what else. Carl was astonished to discover that no one appeared to have the slightest interest in what was in the vast holds. It seemed that as long as there was room for the limited cargoes that Rurn and the owners wanted to carry, the slaves simply ignored the rest of the cargo areas. If more space was needed, the contents of a cargo bay was moved or dumped into space if necessary. Carl found raw materials, food supplies, and equipment which ranged from tractors and air vehicles to full sized shuttles like the ones used to ferry the fighters to and from the surface of the planets they visited. And that was only in the first cargo bay he had entered. The changes Carl had made in job duties, especially those which eliminated duplicate and meaningless work, left many slaves with little or nothing to do, and the idle slaves rapidly became a major concern of Carl's. He was worried that they would get into trouble, or worse, that Rurn might decide to sell them off. The discovery of the immense cargo bays solved that problem quickly. Carl drafted all slaves who were idle into gangs of inventory takers, satisfied that they could be kept busy at the task for years. At the end of his first week as chief slave, Carl dragged himself to his apartments, exhausted from the enormous load of work. He sent Mmrot and Hairy to their rooms, then went to his own and sat down at the desk. He had hours of paperwork left to do but knew that Hairy would check on him shortly if he left the lights on. The short fighter had declared that Carl was overworking himself and had taken it upon himself to make sure Carl got regular food and rest. Carl appreciated Hairy's concern, but found it to be inconvenient at times. Carl looked around the room, trying to spot something he could lay across the bottom of the door so the light would not shine through and alert Hairy. While looking, he noticed one of the night light panels on the wall in one corner of the desk alcove. That might solve the problem of the lights, he thought to himself. He examined the panel, wondering whether it would ignore him as the one in the main room had ignored Hairy, or if it would light the way the panel had for Mmrot. Carl pressed his palm against the panel then immediately yanked it back. He had received a brief shock when his palm had touched the panel, like a static spark. He was uninjured, more surprised than hurt, as the shock had actually been very small. The panel was now lit much more brightly than the one in the main room had been for Mmrot. Carl rubbed his hand, eyeing the panel suspiciously. Then he noticed that in addition to the brightly lit night light, the wall behind the desk was also glowing dimly. He turned out the other lights in the room and decided that the light from the desk alcove would be enough to work by, but not enough to bring Hairy down on him for staying awake. He sat down at the desk and began pulling papers from a drawer. A few seconds later he froze. A voice had spoken in the room. The words were oddly pronounced and spoken with no inflection. "Please state your identification." Carl glanced over his shoulder, sure there was no one else in the room. The voice repeated itself and Carl realized with a start that it was coming from the back wall of the desk. He stared at the softly glowing wall, comprehension dawning on him abruptly. In the upper corner of the wall were neatly written characters, spelling out the words of verbal request for identification. The desk was obviously a computer console, and the whole back wall was a display screen. The 'night light' was apparently some kind of activation panel for it. The screen repeated itself a third time and Carl decided to do some exploring. His field of study before he was captured had been computers and he was extremely curious to find out what sort of computer would be on the ancient alien ship. Deciding that his own name would be as good a place to start as any, he spoke with a clear voice, "Carl Axton." The screen immediately responded, "Identification not on file. Please state your rank and position." Carl paused, trying to decide how to answer. He finally replied, "Chief Slave," wondering how the computer would react to that. He wasn't surprised when the machine responded, "Rank and Position not on file. Access limited to non-critical systems." The screen cleared and a series of characters formed in the upper corner. Carl recognized them as his name in the written form of the language he had learned on board the ship. He rubbed his hands together with satisfaction. It was only a little edge, but it was progress. He thought for a moment and then addressed the screen. "Is there a help or tutorial system available on this system?" There was a long wait and Carl was beginning to think that the console needed a more formal command, when it responded. "Help is available on the following topics: Basic Commands, Information Storage and Retrieval, Resource Management, Ship Status, and Communications. All other topics are restricted." Carl smiled broadly. Bingo! he thought happily. "Give me Help for Basic Commands," he said. The machine immediately began reciting a series of commands and describing their functions. Carl listened carefully, then realized with disappointment that the computer was obviously limited and not very different from the dozens of simple administration systems he had used in school while he was growing up. Computers, it seemed, had basic similarities no matter if they were designed by human or alien minds. He kept at it for several hours, exploring the Help system and discovering the extent of the computer. By the time he was falling asleep at the desk, Carl had managed to set up several files on the computer to help him with managing the enormous task of organizing the slaves he was in charge of. It was almost morning when he finally pressed the 'night light' panel and turned the console off. He stumbled to his bed, falling asleep even before he hit the mattress. The next day began with a torrent of problems which dragged Carl from the apartments before he had a chance to show Hairy or Mmrot his discovery of the computer console. Once again Carl was deluged with work and did not return to his room until late. He dismissed Mmrot and Hairy to their rooms with a casual word and headed towards his room, intent on getting a shower and a full night's rest. As soon as he opened the door, however, he came instantly alert. Sitting at the table in the center of his room was one of the cat people, a woman Carl decided. She didn't turn when Carl entered but he saw her ears twitch, so he knew she was aware of him. Carl slowly walked around the table, keeping a careful distance between himself and his unknown visitor. As the face of the intruder came into view Carl realized with a sudden flash of recognition that it was Mmriss! He felt his heart leap in his chest and he stood, rooted to the floor, staring at the cat woman. She kept her eyes on the table and after a moment the spell was broken. Carl stepped forward, smiling at her. "Mmriss, when did you come out of the Doc? How are your legs? How do you feel?" She kept her eyes on the table and answered in an emotionless voice. "I awoke this afternoon, Garl Ashton. My legs are still sore but Mmrim assures me that they are completely repaired. I feel fine." Carl stopped, startled by the emptiness in Mmriss' voice. "Mmriss, what's wrong?" She didn't look up and answered in the same tone. "Nothing is wrong, Garl Ashton. I was told that I have you to thank for my rescue from Salarn. Thank you." The lack of emotion in her voice was slowly being replaced by a distant sound that left Carl feeling cold. He sat down in a chair opposite the cat woman and looked at her face. Her eyes were empty and seemed to look at something farther away than the table top she faced. Carl was at a loss to know what to do. Finally he asked, "What are you doing here? Does Mmrot know that you are here?" Mmriss took a sharp breath and looked up at Carl, her eyes suddenly sparking with emotion. "When I awoke I was informed that Rurn has given me to you. I am your personal property, now. My rooms at the clan hall are closed to me. My place is here." Carl was shocked by the naked hatred in Mmriss' voice. He stood up from the table and Mmriss immediately cringed, dropping her eyes. Carl looked around the room in exasperation and his eyes fell on a small pile of possessions on one of the chairs. Mmriss' belongings, he assumed. Confused, Carl stood and stared at the cat woman. What was wrong, here? Why was she behaving this way? Had he done something which had been misunderstood by her? He couldn't think of anything he had done at all. Was she mad that Rurn had given her to him? That must be it, he decided. He remembered the way she had reacted the first time he had come to the clan hall, when she had thought he was calling her out to be used and abused the way other trainers treated the slave women. Now, Rurn's casual gift of her to Carl had torn her from the place she had lived in, and put her at the complete mercy of what to her must seem to be a strange alien. Carl suddenly felt terribly depressed. He had such strong feelings for Mmriss, but it seemed obvious that to her he must be frightening and foreign, an alien. He remembered his own feelings when he had first been captured, his revulsion towards Quasimodo and the other aliens. Carl sighed heavily. He would simply have to respect that she was a living, breathing person, with feelings and ideas of her own, and that he would probably never really be able to understand those thoughts and emotions, much less have a place among them. He felt empty, cold and alone. He went over and picked up Mmriss' pile of possessions, then turned to her and said, "come." The cat woman stood and watched Carl warily. He led her through the apartments to an empty room, the one next to Mmrot's. He set her belongings on the bed and faced her. "You may use these quarters. You will continue with the duties you had before you were injured." He tried to read her expression but she kept her face turned down so that he could tell nothing. Feeling angry and helpless he turned and stalked out. Carl went straight to his rooms and stormed into the shower, setting it for alternating blasts of steaming hot and icy cold water. Afterwards he threw himself on his bed and silently cursed the laws of nature which had designed the personalities of women. After awhile he fell asleep, thoughts of Mmriss filling his head. Carl awoke early and went to the main room of the apartments. He was there going over papers on the table when Mmrot entered, stretching and scratching himself. Without looking up, Carl announced, "I have a surprise for you, Mmrot. Go check the room next to yours." Mmrot gave Carl's back a curious look, then turned and left the room. He returned in a minute with a perplexed look on his face. "Okay, Garl Ashton," the cat man stated, curiously, "please explain." Carl stared at Mmrot in surprise, then stood and headed for the hall with Mmrot following curiously behind. When he opened the door to Mmriss' room, he found it empty. "Damn," he said softly. "Please explain, Garl." Mmrot repeated politely. "Well," Carl said in an irritated voice, "last night I put Mmriss in this room..." Mmrot immediately shouted, "Mmriss! How is she? How are her legs? Where has she gone?" His excited shouting brought Hairy into the hall and Carl led the two fighters back to the main room where he explained Mmriss' appearance and odd behavior the night before. He told them of his own ideas as to the cause, then asked Mmrot if he could explain her actions. "Who can explain the ways of a woman, Garl Ashton? It is enough for me that she is well and has returned to us. The changes you have made have upset many people. After she has had a chance to get used to the changes, perhaps then she will be easier to understand." The cat man's happiness was obvious in his voice. Carl frowned and asked, "Where do you think she could have gone?" Mmrot shrugged, but Hairy commented thoughtfully, "If you want to find her, I suggest you start at the clan hall." Realizing the wisdom of this suggestion, Carl stood and headed for the door. Mmrot and Hairy exchanged curious glances and followed him. When they reached the clan hall it was full of cat people eating their breakfasts. Carl looked around the room, failing to spot Mmriss. He caught the eye of Harss and beckoned her over. She approached slowly and Carl noticed a wary look on her face. "What do you want, Garl Ashton?" Her voice was quiet. "Have you seen Mmriss?" Carl asked, anxiously. Harss nodded, "She is here." "I want to see her," Carl said, his voice showing a touch of impatience. Harss shook her head slightly. "That may not be wise, Garl Ashton. She is very upset." Carl had become used to immediate compliance from most people and he felt his impatience growing. He spoke carefully, keeping his voice under control. "I want to see her, now." Harss gave him a closed look, then bowed her head. "She is your property, Garl Ashton. I will bring her." Startled by Harss' comment, Carl blurted out "Wait!", but Harss ignored him and left the room. She returned in a minute followed by Mmriss. The young cat woman's face was tinged with red and she stared at the floor. The room was growing silent around them as people noticed the scene. Mmriss walked up and stood before Carl. He waited for her to speak, then grew impatient with her continued silence. "Why did you leave the apartments?" Carl asked, realizing that his voice was beginning to show anger which surprised and annoyed him. Mmriss spoke with a dull, lifeless voice. "I will return to the apartments if that is your wish." She turned and started to walk away. Carl felt himself beginning to lose his temper. "Mmriss!" he called out sharply. The cat woman froze. He forced himself to regain control. Then he spoke softly, "Why did you leave?" Mmriss whirled around, her face an angry mask. "I am your property, Garl Ashton, to do with as you please! I am a slave, a prostitute, used and tainted! Send me from your room if I am not good enough for you, I will leave! But do not humiliate me in front of my clan!" Her voice was shrill, bringing startled looks from everyone in the room. "Beat Me! Kill Me! But do NOT humiliate me!" Mmriss screamed the last words and launched herself at Carl. His fighter's reactions made him dodge to the side and he grabbed her outflung hands, spinning her around and trapping her back against his chest. She struggled for a moment, then suddenly relaxed and fell to the floor, sobbing. Carl looked up in dismay and met the surprised eyes of Mmrot. He looked over at Harss and received a cold, stony look. Carl reached down and lifted Mmriss, setting her on a bench. He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face, but she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaking her cheeks. "Mmriss," Carl spoke softly, "I did not mean to humiliate you. I did not send you from my room, I offered you a place of your own. You are a slave, yes. So am I. But you are not tainted in my eyes or in my heart. There is no shame in the duties of a slave when those duties are not of their choosing. And you are not tainted by things done to you against your will." He stopped, watching her face, unable to tell if she was even hearing his words. He continued speaking softly, "I gave you your own room because I do not want a woman unless it is her choice as well as mine. Rurn says that you are my property, to do with as I see fit. I see fit to allow you to do as YOU desire. You may stay here with the clan. Or you may return to your room at my apartments. Or you may make any other choice that is in my power to grant. But make the choice because it is what YOU want." Mmriss pulled away from Carl and turned her back on him. He looked at her back for several minutes, seeing her shoulders shake from sobbing. Feeling helpless, he turned and walked away. He left the clan hall and walked aimlessly through the corridors, trying to understand the reactions of the cat woman. Face it, he told himself, he'd had a hard enough time understanding human women, how could he expect to understand a woman of another species? Carl thought back over his experiences as he was growing up, surprised at how distant and foreign that life now seemed. He had never had a close relationship with a woman, preferring to bury his interests in computers and books rather than facing the confusing world of social interaction in the schools he had attended. He realized with amazement that he had not even had a close male friend, that he was closer to Mmrot and Hairy than he had felt to any other human! A cold, lonely feeling wrapped around him. Carl felt suddenly alone, unique, set apart from everyone in the whole universe. There was a movement in front of him and Carl looked up. He was facing two armed guards who stood at attention before the doors to the pits. His aimless wanderings had brought him back to the place he had started in this crazy alien world. He sighed heavily and motioned for the guards to let him into the preserve of the fighters. This, at least, was a place where he understood the rules, a place where he had a position and a defined role. It almost felt like he was coming home as he stepped through the doors into the familiar hallways of the pits. He spent much of the rest of the day in the pits, working with trainers and fighters. The trainers, who had been resistant to the changes when Carl had announced them, were beginning to become enthusiastic as they saw the rapid improvement in the performance of the fighters. Carl was quiet and withdrawn as he supervised the practice bouts, speaking up only one time. He stopped a bout to show a fighter the correct way to wear a piece of body armor, then he became irritated when it turned out that the armor would not fit properly. He left the pits and took several pieces of the makeshift armor to a machinist he had met in an engineering area. He outlined the changes he wanted made, then worked with the man on the fabricator equipment until he had the armor the way he wanted it. Then he oversaw the operation while the man began making duplicates for use in the pits. By the time he was satisfied with the process and it's results it was very late. When Carl returned to the apartments he glanced into the hall and saw that the lights were off in all the rooms. He thought for a moment of checking to see whether Mmriss had returned to her room or if she had decided to stay at the clan hall. He decided not to, afraid that any action on his part would simply be taken badly by the upset cat woman. He quietly walked through the apartments to his own room and sat on the foot of the bed. His shoulders felt heavy and there was an ache in his chest which threatened to move up into his throat each time he took a breath. He was trying to decide whether he should take a shower or just lie down and try to sleep when he heard a soft scratching at his door. Carl recognized it as Mmrot's preferred way of announcing his presence when he was unsure if Carl was asleep or not. Carl smiled to himself, thinking of the friendship that had grown between himself and the cat man. Whatever it was that brought Mmrot to his door this late at night, it must be important. "Come on in," he said, standing to stretch out the cramps in his legs and back. "What is so important that it can't wait until morning?" The door opened, but it was not Mmrot who slipped through and closed it quietly. Mmriss stood in the half light of the darkened room. She was wearing the same blue skirt she had worn the first time Carl had seen her. She stood in front of the door with her eyes on the floor, and Carl could see her shoulders shaking slightly. Carl was surprised at her sudden appearance, and was taken once again by her delicate beauty. Mmriss looked up and her eyes met Carl's. In the dim light of the room her eyes were so dark blue as to be almost black. After a moment she dropped her eyes again, and spoke softly. "I come to offer my apologies to you, Garl Ashton. Our ways are different and I did not understand. I have acted a fool." Her head dropped down and she seemed to wilt. Carl took a step towards her, then stopped when he saw her flinch. "I am sorry, too, Mmriss," he said gently. "We both misunderstood, and it grieves me greatly to have been the cause of hurt to you." This brought her head up and she gazed into his face. "Garl Ashton," she said with a touch of strain in her voice, "how can we keep from misunderstanding one another? How do I know that what I feel is what you want me to feel? And how do I know that what you feel is that which I want you to feel?" Carl felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. "Perhaps," he said cautiously, "we might agree to try very hard, and to keep trying until we understand each other." She nodded slowly and Carl saw that her eyes now seemed to glow softly in the dim light. Carl's words sounded odd and stilted in his ears. He felt his face grow hot and his pulse pound in his ears. How is it, he thought to himself, that I can face death in the arena so calmly and know exactly what I have to do, yet when I face this woman alone, my wits desert me and I can do nothing but spout inanities? All the feelings Carl had tried to deny, tried to bury under calm rationalizations, and tried to reason away, rushed in on him. The cat woman's presence seemed to fill the room, shutting out everything in his awareness except for her. His nose caught a faint scent, musky and mysterious. He felt a pressure growing in his chest which swelled to a sharp pain. Mmriss stood there quietly, staring at him. He started to say something, then stopped, unable to force it past the pain in his chest. He was afraid he would say or do the wrong thing. He wanted to reach out, to take her and hold her close, but just as she had said, how could he know how she felt and what SHE wanted? The uncertainty was like a suffocating cloud, wrapping his mind in confusion. He stood, feeling like a fool, not knowing what to do. The silence seemed to stretch on and on, then Mmriss turned slightly, looking off into the darkness of the room. Suddenly afraid she would leave the room, Carl reached out a hand. Surprised at his own action, he froze. Mmriss looked at the hand for a moment, then slowly stepped forward until her arm touched the fingers. "Garl Ashton," she spoke so softly that he could only barely make out the words. "I am here because it is what I want, what I desire. I have made my choice." She dropped her eyes before continuing. "What is your choice?" Disbelief burst through Carl. Could he really believe what he was hearing? A tingling sensation spread from the fingers which touched her arm. It shot up his arm and exploded through his chest, filling his whole body. Carl stepped forward and slid his arms around her, pulling her close against him. The fur on her back was like filmy silk against his arms. He could feel the cool softness of her breasts firm against his chest. She lifted her head and Carl was gazing down into twin pools of flame. The heated wave which was fiercely washing around Carl was totally different from the one he experienced in the arena, yet now, too, he knew exactly what actions to take, and knew with absolute certainty that they were right. He slowly drew his hands up her back, letting his fingers dig lightly into her muscles, kneading her skin and pulling her closer against him. Mmriss arched her back and breathed a delicate sigh against his shoulder, slowly closing her eyes. She made a small movement and her skirt slid to the floor. Carl lifted her up, pulling her close to him, surprised at how light and delicate she felt. Hours later Carl awoke in the dark. The downy fur on the back of Mmriss' neck was soft against his cheek. She was curled tightly, almost in a ball, with her back firmly against his chest. His arm was lying across her. Carl listened to the soft sigh of her breath and felt her body move in time to her breathing. The heat of passion had been replaced by the warm glow of contentment. He felt a peace more complete than anything he had ever known before. Slowly he drifted back to sleep. In the morning Carl awoke alone. He looked around, disappointed to find the room empty except for himself. He stood and stretched, then headed straight for the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. When he was finished he went out into the main room and found Mmrot and Hairy sitting at the table discussing the training schedule for the fighters. Carl had just sat down when the door to the apartment opened. Mmriss came flowing into the room, carrying a stack of trays. To Carl's eyes she seemed to glow, exuding an almost visible aura of light. Her eyes sparkled and her fur danced on the light breeze caused by her swift movements. Carl saw Mmrot's eyes open wide in amazement as Mmriss swept fluidly across the room and slid a tray in front of each man. She took a fourth tray and retired to a corner of the room where she curled up in a chair with her back to the fighters and began daintily eating. Carl found it highly entertaining to watch the expressions roll across Mmrot's face as his eyes went from Mmriss to Carl, then back again several times. He saw the cat man register surprise, bewilderment, suspicion, worry, and other less identifiable expressions. When Mmrot finally let his gaze linger on Mmriss for a long moment, his expression settled into one of gentle affection. When he turned his face back to Carl it held a look of gratitude and happiness. Hairy watched the scene with a knowing expression. He favored Carl with a broad smile, then busied himself eating from his platter. They ate in silence and when they were finished, Mmriss flowed lightly through the room once again, gathering up the platters and quietly leaving. As the door closed behind her it seemed to Carl that the light in the room grew a little dimmer. He turned back to Mmrot and Hairy, then cleared his throat. "Well, gentlemen, I believe we were discussing training exercises," he said, happily. The next few weeks seemed to take on an almost dreamlike quality for Carl. The fighters were responding spectacularly to the new training techniques. Rurn was openly enthusiastic about the results, actually coming into the pits for the first time in the memory of any slave, to observe the practice bouts. The new procedures in administration were settling into place with only a few minor problems. And always, when Carl returned to his rooms, there was the ever eager and effervescent Mmriss. Everything seemed almost idyllic. Chapter 6 Carl's dream-like world was shattered with shocking abruptness early one morning. He had gone with Mmrot to the ship's bridge to speak with Hmmir, an older cat man who worked there. Hmmir had been a great asset to Carl in choosing the personnel best suited for bridge duty and he had planned to discuss new assignments with him. When Carl stepped onto the bridge, he froze, startled by the sight which met his eyes. Instead of working at their stations, all the slaves assigned to the bridge were standing, staring at several figures grouped around the main control station. One figure, a cat man, was lying on the floor. An owner was standing over the prone figure, flanked by several guards. With a feeling of dread filling him, Carl cautiously approached them and saw that the figure on the floor was Hmmir. The owner standing over him was Lek, and the pale skinned Gatt was fingering a pain lash. Carl looked at Hmmir and saw a tortured expression on the old cat man's unmoving features. He felt rage boiling up inside himself but throttled it back. "What happened here?" Carl asked, almost choking with the effort to maintain control. Lek glanced up with a cold smile. He pointed at the form on the floor. "This Shek was insolent, it has been punished." Mmrot stepped past Carl and kneeled beside the still figure, gently feeling for a pulse at Hmmir's neck. He looked up at Carl and shook his head. Then Mmrot carefully closed the old man's eyes. Carl felt an icy chill drop over him as he stared at the dead cat man's body lying on the deck. He slowly raised his eyes to the face of the pale skinned alien who had tortured Hmmir to death. Lek returned the gaze with a smirk. Carl's muscles began to tense and he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as his body prepared for action. The guards around Lek shifted slightly and Carl realized that they were all covering him with their rifles. For a moment he gauged the distance between himself and Lek, calculating whether or not he could reach the short owner before he was burned down by the rifles. Then he heard a sharp hiss. He looked down and met Mmrot's eyes. The cat man slowly shook his head, his eyes round with alarm. Carl looked back to Lek and saw a look of confident assurance on the toad-like face of the short Gatt. It burst into Carl's mind that it was not Hmmir who was Lek's target, but himself! Lek was trying to force Carl to lose control, giving the owner an excuse for revenge. Hmmir's death was only a goad, aimed straight at Carl. Feeling his mind burning with the icy rage, Carl glared at the toad-like face of the alien. Lek returned the glare confidently, fingering his pain lash. Knowing full well that an attack on the short Gatt would result only in his own death, Carl forced himself to turn slowly and walk from the bridge. Mmrot followed, carefully keeping himself between Carl and Lek. Once off of the bridge, Carl headed straight for Rurn's office where he knew he would find the senior owner. When he reached the door of the office, he was met by two armed guards. He stood stiffly before them, breathing heavily to restore his calm before speaking. When he was finally able to control his voice, he addressed one of the guards. "Please notify the senior owner that his chief slave desires to speak with him." The guard nodded, then turned and entered the room. Carl stood in the hall, trying to keep himself under control. Mmrot stood to one side, a worried look on his face. After a seemingly endless wait the guard came out. He motioned for Carl to enter, but blocked Mmrot from following. Carl stepped in and found Rurn sitting behind his desk, calmly studying a sheaf of plastic sheets. After several minutes the owner looked up. "Well," Rurn said in a bored tone, "why have you disturbed me?" There was something in his attitude which struck Carl as strange. The owner had spoken in a casual voice, but Carl sensed a sharp feeling of alertness about him. Suddenly Carl was wary of the senior owner. "Lek killed one of the slaves on the bridge just a short time ago," Carl stated in an even voice. Rurn nodded, his expression unchanged. "I know that. The slave was insolent to an owner. He was punished." Carl felt another surge of icy rage wash over him, but he forced himself to keep his control. He chose his words carefully. "I am sure that the slave in question would never have been insolent to anyone, much less an owner." The senior owner's face abruptly went cold. When he spoke his voice croaked harshly. "Do you presume to doubt the word of an owner?" Carl realized with alarm that he had crossed a line somehow, and that he was now in very dangerous territory. "No, owner Rurn," he said, keeping his voice even. "I am concerned that there has been an error which has cost a slave his life." Rurn's eyes sparked and he leaned forward, his toady form broadcasting menace. "You had better be sure you do not make an error which costs you YOUR life, Slave!" Rurn spoke slowly and precisely, each word seeming to drip acid. "Any owner can treat any slave on this ship in any way he chooses. An owner can kill a slave just to see the slave squirm his life out on the decks, if he so chooses. Do you understand that clearly, Slave?" Rurn's words struck Carl with numbing force. The room seemed to move around him, growing distant and unfocused. Then Carl heard his own voice speaking with an empty tone. "I understand, owner Rurn." It was like he was a passenger in his own body, watching the world on a poorly functioning video screen. Rurn spat out viciously, "See that you remember it! Dismissed!" Carl almost stumbled as he turned and walked from the room. Once he was in the corridor, he stood looking blankly at the wall. Rurn's words hung in his mind, echoing in his consciousness. Carl realized that he had been living the last several weeks in a world of illusion. He had allowed his relationship with Mmriss and the successes he'd had with the slaves to mislead him into thinking he had some measure of control over his life. And somehow he had let himself believe that Rurn was something other than an alien slave owner who looked on Carl and the other slaves like so much property, to be used or abused at will. The feeling of helplessness he felt now was somehow worse than it had been when he was first captured. He was a slave! He could die at any moment, at the whim of an alien. Everything he had, anyone he knew, could be taken from him for little or no reason! Mmrot, Hairy, and Carl's heart lurched, Mmriss! Panic swam around the edges of his mind, threatening to drown him in terror. Dimly Carl felt a hand on his arm and he looked over and saw Mmrot standing beside him. The cat man led him away, carefully guiding him towards the apartment rooms. Carl walked along, seeing the halls move past in a haze. When they reached the apartments, Carl stood in the main room, staring at it like he had never seen it before. The rooms which had seemed so friendly and comforting just a short time ago suddenly felt like a cold prison. He sat down at the table, feeling an icy chill in his chest. Mmrot reached out a hand and touched Carl lightly on the arm. He looked up into the cat man's eyes and saw something there he had never seen before. Mmrot nodded slowly and Carl knew that his friend understood what he was feeling. Somehow that knowledge was strength, solid ground he could stand on in the quicksand of fear that was swirling around him. Carl reached up and took Mmrot's hand, gripping it fiercely. A calmness seemed to flow from Mmrot into Carl. He knew somehow that he had reached a new level of awareness, that he now shared something with Mmrot which he had not understood before. The chilled feeling in his chest gave way to warmth, and that grew to a fierce heat. Once again Carl vowed to himself that he would survive this! He would win out over the owners and break free from this captivity, no matter what! It was only a few days later that Rurn called Carl back to his office. He informed Carl that they would be arriving at a port in nine days. He instructed Carl to prepare the fighters for combat in the arena. The owner gloated to Carl, saying that he would win heavily at the contests in the arena. The world they were arriving at was the same one they had left when they went to Salarn, and the people there would think that they knew Rurn's fighters and their strengths. After Carl's new training, the fighters were all greatly improved. Rurn could pit them against much stronger opponents and get incredible odds. The owner almost sickened Carl with his gleeful greed. He left Rurn's office at his first opportunity, feeling unclean from the meeting. When he returned to his rooms, he was met by Mmrot. He told the cat man of Rurn's statements and was surprised when Mmrot didn't react. Carl looked more closely at his friend and realized that the cat man was extremely preoccupied. Suddenly worried that another incident had occurred like the death of Hmmir, Carl grabbed Mmrot and shook his arm, trying to get his attention. "Mmrot! What's wrong?" Carl asked apprehensively. Mmrot stared at Carl for a second, then seemed to make a decision. The cat man turned to the door and motioned for Carl to follow. Carl, surprised at Mmrot's actions, grabbed his friend by the arm. "Wait, tell me what's wrong first," Carl said, concern coloring in his voice. Mmrot shook his head, a dark expression on his face. "It is important. Come with me," said the cat man. Nothing Carl tried would get anything further from Mmrot, so he followed the cat man, worriedly wondering what was happening now. Carl was surprised when Mmrot went to the slave quarters but then bypassed the level where the clan hall was located. Instead he guided Carl to the room where Mmriss had been taken when she had been injured on Salarn. Mmrot pushed his way through the door and Carl followed with a growing feeling of alarm. Inside the room he saw Harss and Mmrim, the cat woman who had treated Mmriss. As soon as she saw the two men, Mmrim whirled on Mmrot, her face a mask of anger. "What are you doing here? Why have you brought him?" She grabbed at Carl, pushing him towards the door. "You must leave, you do not belong here!" Carl was dismayed by the vehemence in the small cat woman's voice. Then he heard another, more familiar voice cry out. "Wait!" It was Mmriss! She stepped from behind Harss, her face red and tear streaked. Carl stepped past Mmrim and pulled Mmriss to him, holding her close. Then he turned angrily to Harss and Mmrim. "What is going on here?" Carl demanded. Mmrim shot Mmrot an angry glance, then she faced Carl. "You do not belong here. This does not concern you." Carl could feel Mmriss cringe at the sound of Mmrim's voice. Mmrot pushed between Mmrim and Carl. "This does concern him. You must perform the test!" The cat man demanded angrily. Mmrim stared at Mmrot, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Do not try to tell me what to do in my own offices, fighter!" Mmrim's voice was shaking with anger. Carl felt his temper fraying. He didn't know the cause of the emotional confrontation he was witnessing, but apparently it involved himself and Mmriss, and he meant to find out what it was. He put all the strength of command that the past few months had taught him into his voice and shouted over the heads of the snarling cat people. "Enough!" Both Mmrot and Mmrim jumped with surprise, and turned startled looks towards Carl. He faced Mmrot and demanded, softly, "Tell me what is going on here." Mmrot's eyes flicked to Mmriss for a moment, then he looked back to Carl and shook his head. He spoke with a note of pleading in his voice. "The test, first." Carl felt a rush of exasperation. Mmrim regarded the two fighters with a cold, angry look, which brought a stubborn faced response from Mmrot. The cat man would not back down and Carl saw the realization of that cross Mmrim's face. She motioned Carl over towards one of the Doc tables with a sigh, then spoke icily to Mmrot. "You are a fool, fighter." She pushed Carl down on the table but he looked over at Mmrot before lying back. The cat man nodded, his face showing tense strain. Carl leaned back on the table and Mmrim tapped a control on the wall. Instead of the lid covering him as he was expecting, Carl felt a jab in his arm and looked over in time to see something silvery retracting into the wall. Then he looked up at Mmrim who was staring at a readout panel on the wall. Mmriss came over and pulled at Carl, her face showing fear. He sat up and she buried her face in his shoulder. Carl could feel hot tears running down his chest. Mmrim suddenly hissed. She whirled and stared accusingly at Carl. "This cannot be!" she spat in disbelief. She reached out a hand towards Carl's face and demanded, "Open your mouth." Carl, his patience at an end, pushed her hands away and gently lifted Mmriss away from his shoulder as he stood up from the table. He spaced his words out evenly and forcefully. "Someone tell me what is going on here!" Mmrot started to speak but Harss stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. She eyed Mmrim who shrugged angrily and turned back to stare at the readout on the wall. Harss looked over the other cat woman's shoulder for a moment, glancing at the readout before turning back to Carl with a puzzled look on her face. "Mmriss came to me this morning with Mmrot," she began slowly. "She has not been feeling well in the past few days. This morning she felt very ill. We brought her here for Mmrim to check her, fearing a re-infection from her injury. Instead we found something quite different." She stopped and looked at Mmriss. The young cat woman dropped her eyes to the floor. Harss shrugged and continued. "Mmrim found that Mmriss is pregnant." The words struck Carl like a hammer blow to the gut. He stared first at Mmriss, then at Mmrot, disbelief warring in his mind with relief, joy, anger, and hope. His friend returned the look without emotion. Harss continued, carefully watching Carl as she spoke. "We asked her who the father was and she insisted that it could only be you, Garl Ashton." Carl felt numb. The words seemed to stand out in neon letters in front of him. He heard Harss keep talking. "Mmrim and I insisted that it was impossible for you to be the father. Cross species breeding is not a possible thing. But she insisted that it could be none other than you. This one," she pointed at Mmrot accusingly, "He insisted that you be tested. We have a way to tell if a male is the father of a pregnancy. Mmrot insisted we use it to test you. It was a foolish idea. We were sure you could not possibly be the father!" She glanced at the readout on the wall for a moment, then shrugged. Mmrim turned away from the readout and picked up the narration. "I tried to convince Mmriss to abort the pregnancy, sure she had been seeing someone else, and afraid for her life if you found out. She refused, saying that she had been with no one but you. Mmrot backed her, accusing us of insulting his sister's integrity." She favored the cat man with a sour look before continuing. "We ordered Mmrot out of the room, sure we could convince her if we had enough time alone with her. Instead, he returned with you!" She waved at the wall and hissed. "Now this! It is not possible! Two different species cannot interbreed! Yet the mother is healthy and the pregnancy is progressing well, and that fool machine insists that you are the father! It just cannot be!" Harss hissed with displeasure. "Mmrim," she said coldly, "do not be more of a fool than we have already been. The answer is obvious. Garl Ashton is truly one of the People." Carl jerked with surprise, staring at Harss in dismay. She nodded, looking into his eyes. "It must be so, Garl Ashton. Perhaps the home world of your people was once a lost colony of our People, I do not know. Whatever the answer, it is obvious that you and Mmriss are the same species." Carl looked in wonder from Harss to Mmriss. The young woman grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, staring down at her silver furred head. He was going to be a father! The thought left him feeling stunned. He looked up at Mmrot who smiled back at him. Harss hissed and Carl looked at her. Her face was covered with a mask of displeasure. She shook her head fiercely. "This is not as happy a moment as you think, Garl Ashton." Carl felt a sudden stab of fear. "What do you mean?" he demanded. Harss pointed at Mmriss' belly. "That is not a sanctioned pregnancy!" A feeling of dread filled Carl as he realized what Harss meant. He felt Mmriss shudder in his arms and knew that she, too, understood the threat in those words. The Gatt bred their slaves like cattle, particularly the cat people. The only allowed pregnancies were ones sanctioned by the owners' carefully planned breeding schedules. Anyone that violated those rules faced a harsh punishment. The pregnancy was aborted and the woman sterilized. The father was then put to death. Carl heard an angry hiss and realized with surprise that it came from himself. He moved quickly to the door, pulling Mmriss along with him. "Mmrot," he spat out, "get Hairy and meet me at the apartments." He stormed out of the room with Mmriss in tow. His mind was an angry whirl of thoughts as he stomped through the slave quarters to the stairs. He rushed up them, slowing his pace only enough to allow Mmriss to keep up with him. When he reached the apartments he slapped the panel which opened the door and then stormed inside. Mmriss threw herself on the couch and curled up, crying softly. Carl looked at her and a tender feeling wiped away his anger. He sat down beside her, stroking her head with a gentle hand. "Don't worry," he said reassuringly, "I won't let them hurt you." She simply curled into a tighter ball. The door opened and Hairy came into the apartments along with Mmrot. Carl informed Hairy of the situation in terse terms. The shaggy alien gave Mmriss a surprised look, then smiled tenderly. When he looked up at Carl he had a fierce look on his face. "So, my friend," Hairy asked firmly, "What shall we do, now?" Carl paced the room for a moment, then slapped the table with his hand. "In the holds," he began harshly. He stopped and took several breaths to calm himself, then he continued. "In the holds there are several shuttles, the same as those which are used to ferry us to and from the worlds where we fight. We may be able to escape from the ship in one of them. We are still nine days out from a planet right now. We'll have to keep Mmriss' condition a secret until we're close enough to reach the planet in a shuttle..." Carl was interrupted by a sound from across the room. The door to the apartments slid open and four guards with rifles rushed into the room, pointing their weapons at the four slaves. Seconds later Lek stepped into the room, followed by Rurn. The shorter owner was sneering at Carl, a look of satisfaction on his face. He pointed at Carl and spoke with contempt dripping from his voice. "You are nothing more than a miserable Shek! You thought you had us fooled, but you are not smart enough! I listened to every word spoken in the slave doctor's rooms. We know all about your crime, Shek!" He turned his smirk on Rurn who was glaring at Carl. "And you, Rurn," Lek said with a sweetly acid tone. "When the council finds out about this we will see how long you remain as the senior owner. First you lose owners and slaves to those savages on Salarn. Then you make a Shek the chief slave! You fool!" Rurn eyed Lek, his glare turning into a snarl. "Guard yourself well, Lek, if you plan to oust me from the council leader's seat!" Rurn's voice croaked viciously, "You may find that the council cares more for results than methods!" Lek snorted at him then turned back to Carl. He spoke with soft and evil tones. "I will enjoy this, Shek. I will personally strangle your Shek bitch before your eyes. Then you will die, and that death will be very slow and as painful as I can make it." Lek's words rolled over Carl, echoing in his mind, as he glared at the pale skinned alien's gloating face. Suddenly the toad-like features were replaced by the visions of other faces and scenes which seemed to spin before him; the times he had been injured, the face of each person he had been forced to kill, dead bodies lying on blood stained floors. Each item he had carefully marked down in the account he held against his captors swam through his mind. Then his vision cleared and he was staring into Mmriss' face as she sat on the couch under the muzzle of a rifle. Her face held a look of defeat and bewildered loss. Carl felt the rage, misery, and all the other emotions he had experienced since his enslavement merge together into an explosion of raw fury. He threw a standing kick at the guard standing closest to him, striking the guard's rifle and smashing it into his startled face. Carl let the force of the kick propel him backwards against the guard that was standing on the other side of him. Even as his foot was striking the rifle of one guard, he was grabbing at the rifle of the other. A blaze of crimson burst from the rifle as Carl yanked it from the guard's grasp, sweeping over the other two guards and splashing across the wall and ceiling over the heads of Rurn and Lek. The room was showered by flame and sparks as the lighting panels arced and exploded. Without a pause Carl spun around, slamming the guard in the head with the rifle butt as he turned. He brought the rifle up, intending to fire on the two Gatt, but found that Mmrot and Hairy had leaped into action as soon as he had moved. Mmrot had dived straight for Lek and the two had landed in a heap on the floor, the cat man on top. Hairy had beaten the hastily retreating Rurn to the door, blocking his exit. In the flickering light the enraged Rurn threw himself on Hairy, but the short alien fighter had the advantage of the Gatt, and Hairy slammed Rurn down. The action had taken the merest fraction of a second, then it was over. Carl stared at six figures lying on the floor of his apartments, stunned at what had happened. The final sizzling sparks fell to the floor and the room was plunged into darkness. "Light! We need light!" Mmrot's voice was ragged. Remembering the night light on the wall, Carl groped in the darkness. His fingers found the panel and he pressed it with his hand. He jerked his hand back in surprise as the room was flooded with red light and a loud hooting alarm began blaring. He jabbed at the panel, trying to turn it off. The alarm shut off, but the light remained steady. He turned quickly survey the room. In the eerie red light he could see Hairy stooped over the still form of Rurn. The alien checked the owner gingerly. His face was blank as he lifted his eyes to Carl. "Broken neck, I think," he commented quietly. Carl looked over at Lek. It was obvious from the angle of the pale alien's head that the verdict was the same there. Carl looked at the guards. Two were quite dead, sliced nearly in two by the rifle blast. The other two were breathing raggedly, evidence that they, at least, were still living. Hairy followed his glance and picked up a rifle, holding it uncertainly. He glanced at the two living guards, then gave Carl a questioning look, gesturing with the rifle. Carl shook his head. "No more killing, unless we need to. Tie them up." Hairy nodded and began ripping strips from the from the guards' uniforms to use in binding them and gagging their mouths. Mmrot was staring fixedly at the bodies of the two Gatt and the guards. His face looked ghastly in the red light, and he hissed sharply. "We shall all die for this!" He turned and faced Carl, a look of resignation on his red lit face. Carl shuddered as he realized the immensity of the last few moments' actions. He shook his head and spoke vehemently. "We're not dead, yet!" Carl picked up the other two rifles, handing one to Mmrot and the other to Mmriss. "Cover the door, in case anyone else shows up." The cat woman took the rifle, examining it for a moment as if she did not know what it was. Then her eyes seemed to glow with the same light as the room and her face took on a hard, determined look. She settled the rifle into a ready position, pointed at the entry to the apartments. The red light from the wall panel changed brightness. At the same moment there was a loud chime in the room and a voice spoke with oddly accented tones. "Emergency systems activated. Please state the nature of the emergency." Hairy and Mmrot both jumped and spun, looking for the source of the voice. Carl swore and jabbed once more at the wall panel. It had no effect and he jabbed again. The chime and the voice were repeated. "Who is that?" Mmrot yelled over the ringing of the chime. "I think we set off an emergency system," Carl responded. He tried to examine the brightly glowing panel. "Shut it off before it brings the whole ship down on us!" Mmrot's face looked like he was close to panic. "How do you shut it off?" Carl asked, with exasperation in his voice. "I don't know how it works!" The red light shifted to yellow and the voice spoke again. "Emergency response system, phase two. Damage control and systems repair initiated. Please state the nature of the emergency." There were several sparks from the lights which had been raked by gunfire, then the remaining undamaged ceiling panels came back to life, bringing the room almost up to normal illumination. Mmriss made her way across the room to Carl, stepping past the bodies on the floor. She kept her rifle aimed at the doorway, but moved until the fur on her arm brushed lightly against Carl's side. "Who is that speaking?" Her voice was tight with the effort of control. Carl put an arm around Mmriss and gave her a reassuring hug. "Don't worry I think it's just the ship's computer system." He put his palm to the panel and pressed it again and getting no response. Then he slapped it angrily and turned back to face his three friends. Hairy turned to Carl with a look of confusion. "Computer system?" Mmrot hissed in agitation, his eyes still searching for the source of the voice. Carl realized that he had never told his friends about his discovery that the desk in his room was a computer console. The rush of events had shoved it from his mind. The computer voice chose that moment to speak again. "Emergency response, phase three. Evaluation and response protocol initiated." "It's just a computer," Carl repeated, turning to Hairy and Mmrot. "The desk in my room is a computer console. I got it working a few weeks ago, I just forgot about it because it's not good for much. This sounds like the same system. I think when I pressed the wall panel it must have activated it, or maybe the damage to the lights triggered it. But we don't need a computer system, right now. What we need is a way off this ship!" The panel changed from yellow back to red, and the chime sounded again, followed by the voice. "Emergency disembarkation procedures are governed by the master control system. That system is on not functioning at this time. Please state the authorization for system activation." Mmrot hissed angrily. "That will bring the guards down on us if you can't shut it up! If they're not coming already. Let's head for the holds and try the shuttle you told us about." He stepped over the bodies on the floor, moving towards the door with his rifle held ready. "Wait," Carl said. He was staring at the glowing panel. Some of the words the computer was using were unfamiliar, but he thought he could understand what it was saying. "This thing may be able to get us off the ship. It said 'emergency disembarkation.' I think that means we may have a way out of here." He faced the panel and tried to speak clearly. "Computer, what do we have to do to activate the master control system?" The computer immediately responded. "Authorization for system activation is limited to senior ship personnel." Then it began listing names. Carl swore and yelled at the computer. "The crew of this ship has been dead for thousands of years! Isn't there any other way to trigger the emergency system?" The red panel light began blinking. Several seconds later the computer voice spoke again. "Master control system emergency activation initiated. Repair of critical systems is required, please stand by." Carl scowled, not wanting to give in to a hopeful feeling that was beginning to build in his chest. Mmriss and Mmrot exchanged tense look, keeping their rifles pointed at the door. Hairy had a look of solemn resignation on his face. He stepped to the couch and crouched behind it, leveling his rifle across it's back to point at the doorway as well. After several minutes the voice spoke again. This time, however, the flat, mechanically articulated speech was replaced by a voice with inflection. "This ship is now on emergency alert status. Please describe to me the current situation." Carl felt a jolt of surprise at the words chosen by the computer. The words 'to me' made it seem like they had been spoken by a person, not a machine. He thought for a moment, then addressed the panel. "The ship is currently in the hands of a group of Gatt. The original crew of the ship has been dead for thousands of years but there are descendants of the crew being held as slaves by the Gatt. We are in danger of attack by those same Gatt. We need to get off of the ship immediately." The computer's voice responded. "I am aware of the presence of the Gatt, as well as other races, many of whom I am unfamiliar with. I register two thousand three hundred and forty six individuals who show limited relationship to the original crew of this vessel. There are two Gatt in the room with you, those are both registering as dead and are therefore not an immediate threat. I show no other Gatt in your immediate vicinity. My determination is that you are not in immediate danger. Please describe the current situation further so that I may determine appropriate action." Mmrot hissed and spat. "That is not a machine talking, who is it?" he asked suspiciously. The computer's voice answered in calm tones. "You are conversing with the main control system for this ship. I am an artificial personality designed to interface between command personnel and the systems which operate this vessel." Carl put a hand on Mmrot's arm, motioning his friend to silence. He spoke softly, almost under his breath. "I think it's just a very sophisticated computer program. But if I understand it correctly, we're on the right road for getting out of here." He addressed the panel, again. "The two dead Gatt in this room were killed by us in self defense. When the other Gatt on the ship find out about it, they will probably have all of us in this room executed. Tell me, is there a way for us to safely get off of the ship?" The voice responded, "I am currently registering four shuttle craft on the main shuttle deck. One of them is capable of limited interstellar navigation and is provisioned for immediate launch." Carl smiled and hugged Mmriss. Then he asked the machine, "Can you tell us if there is anyone between us and that shuttle?" There was a short lag before the voice responded. "There are nineteen individuals in the corridors between your current location and the main shuttle deck." Carl thought for a moment, then asked, "Can you tell if any of them are armed?" The voice answered, "Eight of the individuals are carrying phased light weaponry." Carl swore. "Guards! How can we get past armed guards? We have four rifles, but if we start shooting they'll have reinforcements there before we can get past the first doorway." He looked at Mmrot and Hairy. Both fighters shrugged and shook their heads. Carl was surprised when the computer voice answered him. "It is possible to use the intruder control system to render the armed individuals unconscious. Selected corridors can be sealed and flooded with stun gas. Then the corridors can be flushed, allowing you to pass safely." Carl considered the computer's words for a moment, then a thought struck him hard. "Wait a minute! Can you selectively stun the Gatt as well as the guards?" Carl saw Mmrot's eyes go wide in surprise and felt Mmriss go tense against his side. The computer's voice responded calmly. "Any corridor or room may be selectively sealed and flooded with stun gas as a part of the intruder control system built into this ship. All individuals of the Gatt race as well as all armed individuals are currently in areas controllable by that system." Carl felt a rush of excitement. "Then do it! Stun them all!" he shouted, not quite believing that what the computer was suggesting could really be possible. The voice had a touch of regret in it when it responded. "That action requires the authorization of command personnel." Carl felt his hopes dashed to pieces and sudden anger shot through him. "The command personnel are all dead! They have been for thousands of years!" He clenched his hands into fists, wanting to smash the blinking red panel on the wall. The voice of the computer spoke calmly. "You are correct. This situation requires extraordinary measures for it's solution. New command personnel must be selected." Carl felt a sudden surge of hope. "New command personnel? Who? How?" he asked excitedly. The ship responded in the same calm tone. "My systems are designed to allow command access only to members of the A'Shek'Har race." Mmrot grabbed Carl's arm, an astonished look on his face. "I am A'Shek'Har," the cat man spoke hesitantly. "That is another name for the People." Carl nodded eagerly and addressed the computer. "Mmrot is an A'Shek'Har. Can he be selected as command personnel?" There was a long wait. Then the machine responded. "The individual who claims to be A'Shek'Har does show a derivative relationship to the species. However, this individual does not meet the physiological requirements for acceptance as command personnel under emergency procedures. An exception to these regulations requires approval by command personnel." Carl felt as if he would be swallowed up by anger and frustration. The machine continued speaking. "I register only one individual currently aboard the ship who meets the proper physical criteria to be a command candidate." Carl's head jerked up and he stared at the blinking panel. "Who?" He demanded. The machine responded calmly. "The individual who has been conversing with me, the one who initiated the class one emergency response. You are the only individual I detect who falls within the physiological requirements to be accepted as command personnel under emergency procedures." Carl felt stunned. Harss' assertion that he must be one of the People because he was the father of the child Mmriss was carrying rang out in his mind, along with the suggestion she had made that Earth may have once been a colony of the People. It must be true, he thought in amazement, realizing he had simply not believed it when the cat woman had said it. Carl looked down and saw Mmriss smiling up at him. A hot feeling of confident excitement flowed through him. He spoke to the computer, "Okay, what do I need to do to get accepted as command personnel?" There was a short wait, then the machine spoke. "You are accepted as command personnel." Then it's voice changed, taking on a more urgent tone. "This ship is currently under occupation by hostile forces. What are your orders?" Carl grinned at the red blinking panel. "Seal off all areas containing members of the Gatt race or other armed individuals." He noted the rifle in Mmrot's hands and amended, "except for this room. Flood the sealed areas with stun gas!" The computer voice seemed to hold a note of satisfaction when it responded a few moments later. "Intruder control procedure commencing." A few minutes passed, and Carl felt as if his muscles would snap from the tension. Then the voice continued. "All specified areas are now under gas, and all individuals in the affected areas register as unconscious." Carl lifted Mmriss with a whoop of joy. The cat woman shrieked, then grabbed him when he set her back on her feet. He turned back to the astonished faces of Mmrot and Hairy. With a broad grin Carl announced, "Well, it seems like we don't need to be in as much of a hurry to leave the ship as I thought." He watched Mmrot and Hairy exchange questioning looks. "It looks like the guards and the owners are the ones who'll be leaving." He hugged Mmriss and looked down into her face, which held an uncertain smile. Then he pointed at the guards on the floor and the bodies of Rurn and Lek. "Let's get those out of here. Then we can go down to the pits and see if there's anyone we can recruit to help us gather up all the sleeping owners and get them loaded in those shuttle craft. We'll have to do the same with the guards." Mmrot and Hairy stood unmoving, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Carl smiled and shrugged, commenting dryly. "That is, if you want to help me with the work. After all, you aren't slaves any more." Carl stood on the bridge, watching a display which showed three shuttles moving slowly away from the ship. The star which was the destination for the shuttles was still indistinguishable from the others which glowed softly in the blackness of space, but the ship had assured him that the shuttles were more than capable of reaching port. Carl didn't envy the Gatt and their guards who were crammed aboard the shuttles, with no food and water, and only a barely sufficient life support system for the two day journey ahead. But he felt no pity for them, either. It had taken strict control over the freed slaves to prevent them from wholesales slaughter of the unconscious Gatt. If it wasn't for the well ingrained habits of obedience in most of the ex-slaves, it would have been impossible for Carl to maintain his control without resorting to the same measures against the slaves as he had used against the Gatt. As it was, four of the most despised of the Gatt had been found dead, and several others had been so badly handled as to require medical treatment before they were incarcerated in the shuttles. The voice of the ship calmly interrupted Carl's reflections. "All shuttles are away and we are clear to navigate. Specified course alterations are now commencing." Carl watched with a satisfied feeling as the star field began to shift. He had instructed the ship to take them back to the point at which the ship encountered the Mary Ellen, where he had been captured. From that point, with the assistance of the ship's main system, Carl intended to try to use information from the Mary Ellen to try to find his way back to human held space. The ship had not given him much hope of success in the venture. The Mary Ellen's computers had been badly damaged during the capture of the small freighter, and the ship declared the remaining electronics to be hopelessly archaic and incomprehensible. Carl smiled to himself as he reflected that he had left his home world to study computer systems. Now it seemed he was finally going to get back to his original goal, with a vengeance. He glanced over to a console where Mmriss sat, studiously listening as an older cat man explained the operation of the equipment to her. He thought happily to himself that at least now he would have more than just studies to occupy himself with. As if she read his thoughts, Mmriss looked up and smiled at him. Carl smiled back, feeling very happy and content. Chapter 7 The port controller alertly watched the ship on his screen as it edged carefully up to the docking facility. The ship was over five hundred meters in diameter, one of the largest vessels that docked at the small frontier port. The arrival and departure of the big liners always made him a little nervous. Finally his console beeped and a light on the main board showed that the docking sequence was complete. He pressed a button on his console and spoke into a microphone. "This is Crucis port control. We show docking is complete, Princess Grace. Welcome to Delta Crucis." The speaker over his head crackled and the voice of the big ship's captain came across it. "This is the Prices Grace, thank you Crucis control." The port controller leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. He glanced around the room, watching the quiet figures of men working at their posts. One of the men turned and gave him a worried look. "Hey Art," the man called out in an anxious tone, "The perimeter net is picking up something. We're not expecting another ship in, are we?" The controller sat up, instantly alert. He turned to his screen, switching it immediately to show the display for the perimeter sensor net. As he examined it a warning siren split the air in the room. The man who had called out to him before shouted over the wail of the siren in a controlled voice. "I have contact inbound from the perimeter!" Another man shouted from a different station, "Contact confirmed! God Almighty," the man's voice almost cracked as he spoke, "that thing is as big as a minor moon!" The controller hit a button which muted the siren. His voice was calm as he issued commands. "Dmitri, get me a reading on trajectory. Adams, I want a mass estimate, stat! Ali, give me better figures than 'big as a moon'. How big is it?" The room was immediately buzzing with activity. Voices rang out in tense tones. "I show over forty five hundred meters in diameter!" "Mass is off the scale!" Dmitri, usually a calm man, stood up and faced the controller with alarm on his face. "Art, whatever that thing is, it's headed straight for the port station!" The controller thumbed a button and spoke in a sharp tone. "Princes Grace, this is Crucis Control. Prepare for emergency maneuvering." The voice of the Princes Grace's captain held a note of panic when it came over the speaker. "Crucis control, I can't maneuver! Our hatches are open and we've got over a hundred passengers in the boarding tubes!" The controller stabbed the button again, his voice sharp with urgency. "This is an emergency! We have a large unidentified body headed straight for the port station. Get that ship out of here!" Dmitri suddenly spoke in a disbelieving voice. "Art, the trajectory is changing. That thing is changing speed, too!" Another voice shouted, "I'm getting an IFF transponder, that's a ship!" The port controller made a lightning decision and thumbed the button, speaking to the captain on the Princess Grace, again. "Princess Grace! Hold on the emergency evac, but be ready to maneuver at a moment's notice!" He turned to the men in the room with him. "There ARE no ships that big. Get the ID on that IFF, find out who that is out there." Carlson, the man who had reported the IFF contact, immediately responded, "IFF identification number is 170114373. Checking on ship registration." The controller's eyes went wide and he took a step backwards as if struck, sitting down in his chair with a thump. "That's the Mary Ellen's ID," he said, disbelief in his voice. Dmitri turned sharply and looked at the controller. His voice was uncertain. "Mary Ellen? Wasn't that the ship that..." The port controller nodded slowly, his eyes suddenly filled with pain. "That's confirmed," Carlson's voice rang out. "That ID is registered as the independent freighter Mary Ellen. Her record shows she went missing over two years ago out of Crucis Port bound for Secundus." Carlson looked up from his console with disbelief on his face. "That sure as hell is NOT the Mary Ellen we're picking up out there!" The port controller stood up, determination on his face. "Get me a visual of that thing. I want to see it. And give me an update on trajectory, where is it headed?" Dmitri immediately responded, "Trajectory and speed are still changing, it's slowing. If it maintains it's current track, it looks like it'll end up about fifteen clicks behind us in orbit." Adams' voice followed right on the heels of Dmitri's report, "Visual coming on line!" The port controller's screen went blue, then a picture snapped into place. It showed a black globe against a backdrop of stars, but no details on the object were identifiable. A second later the screen shifted to a closer view and a huge black ship filled the entire screen. There were several sharp intakes of breath in the room as the picture suddenly lit up a large viewscreen on one wall. Dmitri's quiet voice was filled with awe as he commented, "Look at the size of that thing." The screen showed an enormous black hull, pock marked with scars and the evidence of repairs. In the almost silent control room a console began beeping. Carlson looked down at his console, then stated in an incredulous voice, "I'm getting a standard ship audio signal." He touched a control on his console and the speakers in the room hissed and popped. Then a voice filled the room. "Crucis control, this is the independent trading vessel Freedom Warrior. Request permission to assume orbit and send a shuttle to your port station." The port controller heard Dmitri choke at the sound of the voice. In his own chest he felt a sudden sharp pain and his eyes began to burn. He thumbed the transmit button on his console, then had to swallow twice before he could force himself to speak. "Freedom Warrior, this is Crucis port control. Permission is granted for you to assume orbit and send over a docking shuttle." He swallowed again and continued. "Please identify yourself, who is speaking for the Freedom Warrior?" There was a long silence, and when the voice came over the radio there was an odd quality to it. "Crucis Control, this is Captain Carl Axton, Master of the Freedom Warrior." There was a brief pause, then the voice asked hesitantly, "Dad?" Art Axton, the port controller, had to put out a hand to steady himself. In the two and a half years since the Mary Ellen had gone missing, he had slowly come to terms with the probable death of his son. The sound of Carl's voice across the speakers brought such a rush of emotion to him that the most he could do was to wave a hand at Dmitri and point at the microphone. Dmitri stepped over to the master console and thumbed the transmit button. "Freedom Warrior, this is Crucis port control. Your father is a little overcome by surprise, right now, but I'm sure he'll be fine by the time that shuttle gets over here. This is Dmitri Pavlovich, Carl, welcome back!" Art Axton was so excited as he stood on the deck of the main docking bay that he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Angry with himself for the show of emotion, he shoved his hands in his pockets. Dmitri, who stood beside him, slapped him on the shoulder and spoke softly, but warmly. "Relax, Art. Here comes the shuttle, now." The two men stood at the front of a growing crowd of people who had come to watch as the shuttle from the gigantic ship carefully maneuvered itself up to the docking collars. The boarding tube nosed towards the shuttle like an enormous white worm. It probed at the side of the shuttle, then sealed itself over the hatch. The man at the controls of the tube gave a thumbs up and pressed the control which cycled the tubeway open, then stepped away from the entry. Seconds later a figure stepped from the tubeway into the main dock. Art Axton stepped forward and came face to face with Carl. The older man grabbed his son, hugging him tight, with tears streaming down his face. His voice was both harsh and tender as he spoke, "I thought you were dead, boy!" Carl hugged his father back, unable to speak. After several emotional minutes, the two broke the embrace and moved apart. Art Axton gave his son an appraising look and was surprised at what he saw. "Good lord, son. You must have put on fifty pounds, and all of it muscle!" The older Axton's voice showed his approval. Carl smiled and nodded, saying, "I've been through a lot of changes, Dad. A LOT of changes." There was a murmur from the crowd which had been quietly watching the reunion of father and son. Carl turned and saw two figures cautiously emerging from the boarding tube hatchway. "Dad," Carl spoke cautiously, "I want you to meet my two closest friends, Mmrot and Hairy." Art Axton's eyes went wide as he turned and saw the two aliens standing warily, staring at the crowd. Carl watched his father hesitantly, then felt a burst of pride as the older man recovered quickly and stepped forward, extending his hand with a broad smile on his face. "Welcome to Crucis Port," he said in a strong voice, "any friend of Carl's is welcome here at any time." He shook hands with the two aliens, then gave a surprised glance over his shoulder as the crowd burst into spontaneous applause and moved closer to the two aliens. The faces of the two fighters broke into surprised grins as their hands were grasped and shaken by dozens of smiling people. Art Axton gave the group a smiling appraisal and turned to Carl. "Come on," he said warmly, "let's adjourn this circus to the main hall and have a real welcoming party. You can tell us all about where you've been," he favored Mmrot and Hairy with a wide eyed look, "and all about your friends." The suggestion was greeted with cheers by the crowd, but Carl hesitated. "There's someone else I want you to meet, first." He stepped back to the boarding tube and extended a hand through the hatch. There was an appreciative gasp from the crowd as Mmriss hesitantly stepped through the hatchway, carrying a large, blanket wrapped bundle in her arms. Carl slid an arm around her and turned to face his father. "Dad," Carl spoke softly, his voice bursting with pride, "this is Mmriss." Art Axton stared at his son, not realizing that his mouth was hanging open. The look of stunned incredulity on the man's face was replaced by wonder and joy as Carl moved a corner of the blanket that was covering the bundle which Mmriss was holding. "And these," Carl said with a flair, "are Crriss and Crrot." The lifted blanket revealed two small faces. Their eyes were closed and their faces were framed by a light fringe of silvery hair. Dmitri had been standing quietly behind Art Axton, watching the scene with a broad smile. When Art simply stood there beaming at his son with tears of joy on his face, Dmitri stepped forward. He slapped Art on the shoulder and said, "Come on, Grandpa. Don't just stand there, let's get the family inside. This calls for a double celebration!" He reached out and grabbed Carl's hand, shaking it firmly. "Congratulations, Carl, and Welcome Home!"