Part 24 (1/2)

Truthfully he answered, ”When I pulled the third one off Rhani, I was afraid for her; I thought she'd broken an arm. I let him go without thinking.”

Eyes like bits of crystal bored into his. Then Zed said, ”All right, Dana. Go back to the kitchen.”

Safe in the kitchen, Dana leaned against a wall. Amri touched his arm, her round face anxious. He smiled to rea.s.sure her. ”It's all right, kitten,” he said. ”I'm not even bent.” But his heart was still pounding. He had told the truth, but not all of it. If Zed had pushed, he would have learned that Dana had chosen not to try to capture one of the attackers. He could not face bringing someone back to the house so that Zed could break the poor fool slowly and painfully apart.

He sat, and finished his cooling meal. Corrios cleaned the kitchen. Rhani and Zed left the dining alcove; Dana heard them laughing on their way up the stairs. Amri straightened the alcove. Finally she came into the kitchen. ”I'm done,” she said to Corrios. The albino checked the food storage bins and coolers, nodded to them all, and stalked out.

Amri flicked off the kitchen lights. ”Are you going to stay here?” she said to Dana.

He nodded toward his empty plates. ”I want to clean those up.”

”I can do it,” she offered shyly.

”No,” he said, ”that's all right, kitten. Go to bed.”

She left. In the quiet dark, Dana put the plates through the cleaning unit and set them in their places. Alone like this, he could pretend that he was free on Pellin. Suddenly he realized that he was not alone. Binkie had been sitting on his stool, silent as a wall, watching him.

Dana stared at him. ”Aren't you going to bed?” he said.

Binkie stirred, and slid from the stool. Almost pleasantly, he said, ”What the h.e.l.l business is that of yours?” He reached out and gripped Dana's arm. Dana froze -- it was Zed's grip, thumb poised, ready to drive nerve against bone.

Angered, he thrust the secretary from him. ”What do you think you're doing?” he said.

In the dim light Binkie's features were bleak, hard as stone. ”You're lucky, you know that,” he said.

Dana said, ”I don't know what you mean.”

Binkie smiled at him. ”Rhani,” he said, very softly. ”Who do you think turned off the com-unit alarm?”

Dana felt himself blus.h.i.+ng. He was glad the light was dim. ”So?” he said belligerently. ”I owe you for it.”

”That's right,” Binkie said. ”You do.”

”Let me know when you want to call the debt in,” Dana said sarcastically.

He walked to the entrance to the slaves' hall. Binkie did not follow him. As he went into his bedroom, Dana wondered why Binkie had turned off the com-unit alarm. Simply to get Dana in his debt? Or was there another reason? Did Binkie have a secret he wanted protected, a lover perhaps, some treasure hidden in Abanat that he visited on those rare occasions Rhani gave him a morning off?

Stars, Dana thought, we live in the same house, we are fellow-victims of the same man, and we know nothing about each other, nothing at all.

The next day was the day of the Auction.

From the maps, Dana knew that the Auction was held in a square at the center of the city: Auction Place. It was sunny. He wondered if it had ever rained the day of the Auction. Both Rhani and Zed would attend it, of course, and he would be at Rhani's side, as her bodyguard. He washed and exercised. He was dressing when Amri tapped on his door. She was wearing pale yellow, and Dana was reminded of his first meeting with her on the estate. More than ever she looked like a b.u.t.terfly.

She held out a pair of blue boots. ”These are for you, from Rhani,” she said.

Dana took them from her. They were very light, and he wondered what animal's skin they were.

Amri's errand was not complete. ”Rhani says she wants you to wear blue, and the sapphire earrings that you wore yesterday.” ”All right,” Dana said. Wondering why it mattered what he wore, he changed his clothes. His thigh felt almost normal, and the gel on his face had dried. Peeling it off, he felt the contours of the cut with his fingertips. He looked in the mirror: its edges had knit. It would not even leave a scar. He hurried into the kitchen. Now he could hear clearly the sound that had awakened him: the musical chiming of many bells.

Binkie sat on a stool, the same one he had occupied the night before. He too was wearing blue: the fresh clothes were the only sign that he had left it.

”Better eat something,” he said to Dana. ”You'll need it.”

They a.s.sembled in the front hall: Rhani, Zed, Dana, Binkie, Amri. Rhani was dressed in silver and blue; Zed in the silver Net commander's uniform with the Yago ”Y” on its sleeve. The sight of it made Dana's stomach contract into a tight ball. Rhani's hair hung loose. A topaz at her throat accentuated the amber of her eyes. She spoke to Zed; the conversation had evidently started in her room. ”Zed-ka, I don't want to talk about my bruises, or about the attack. I want to go to the Auction and have a good time. We can be serious and worried tonight.”

With punctilious courtesy, Zed said, ”Whatever you wish, Rhani-ka.”

The bells had stopped. Corrios held the door open for them. They went outside. In the night, the city had erected flagpoles all along the Boulevard from which a splendor of flags was flying: the flags of the Four Families and the flags of all five worlds in Sector Sardonyx. Below them, all of Abanat seemed to be moving in one direction: eastward, toward Auction Place. It was early. The lighter-eyed folk were wearing sunshades, but most of the people in the streets were carrying theirs. Dana pushed his to the top of his head. Rhani said, ”The banks and businesses close today; everyone goes to the Auction. It's one of our holidays.” She and Zed went down the steps together. Dana, walking beside Binkie, saw the secretary's face contort at the word _holidays_ as if he smelled something rotten. They joined the throng. Dana moved to walk at Rhani's right shoulder. She chuckled. ”No one will attack me today, Zed-ka. I have two bodyguards.”

She rested her fingers for an instant on Dana's bare left arm. Dana screened his reaction by pretending to stumble and regain balance. Zed glanced at him curiously. Dana said, ”I'm not used to walking in these boots.”

Zed said, ”You're growing worldbound.” The word described the inevitable dissolution of agility and grace that happened to Hypers who lived too long away from the stars.h.i.+ps.

”I hope not,” said Dana.

Zed looked at him with a momentary rare sympathy. ”It will happen,” he said.

Dana looked away, into the blue sky, past the city and the dry, contoured hills. It happens to others, he thought. It isn't going to happen to me.

Binkie said, in his ear, ”You want to know about the Auction?”

Dana was grateful for the change of subject. ”Please.” Listening to Binkie, he was careful to keep his eyes on the crowded, kaleidoscopic street.

”The long buildings flanking Auction Place are called the Barracks. The slaves are kept there, clothed, fed, drugged with dorazine, from the time they leave the Net.”

”How many?” Dana asked.

He thought he had lost Zed's attention. But the Net commander answered the question: ”The capacity of the Net is four thousand slaves. This year it transported three thousand, six hundred and seventy-nine.”

”Thank you, Zed-ka,” Dana said.

”They bring the slaves in lots from the Barracks,” Binkie said. ”The lots are divided according to skills. Laborers come first. They're picked up by the building contractors, the landingport, the city maintenance department, and the Gemit mines. Later come the skilled laborers, technicians, craftspeople, professionals, and specialty lots. There's a break at noon when everyone hides.

We've missed the first lot, and maybe the second.”

The Boulevard broadened. ”My dear,” said a voice to Dana's right, ”it's all automated. You slip your credit disc in the slot and punch the bid you want.

The screen shows the last bid recorded. You'll see. It's fun to get there early, when they've just opened the bidding on a new lot. You can bid knowing your bid will be topped. Like gambling!”

Like bees in a swarm, the crowds of people streamed into Auction Place.

White-walled buildings reflected sunlight into the glittering crowd. Bodies trapped the heat. Dana wiped the sweat from his face. The open s.p.a.ce simmered like a pot on a fire. Whispers rose: ”_Rhani Yago, Yago, Yago_.” Tourists turned around to stare. Serene in her silver tunic, Zed beside her, Rhani strolled forward. People backed to make way for her.

Binkie jostled Dana from behind. ”There.”

Doors like black mouths opened in the buildings' white sides. Dana saw that there were platforms lining the square, parallel to the buildings, about a meter off the ground. People marched out the doors. ”Those are the slaves,” said Rhani. Men and women in blue uniforms walked at their sides. The slaves wore white. Directed by their keepers, they positioned themselves on the platforms at regular intervals. A whisper informed Dana that this was the last of the skilled laborers' lots.

Rhani walked to a platform. Dana looked up. A woman slave stood above him. A screen told him who she was AMALIE O-THORIS, it read. AGE: FORTY-NINE.