'Mistress Blanc said you need to go downstairs soon so you can leave,' he said. His eyes, blue as the sky, were bright with unshed tears, and Lizard knew he didn’t want to shed them where people could see.
'She bought us together,' Bell said, edge still in her voice. 'She bought us together. Someone will buy us together. They’ll have to. They’ll have to.'
Tira appeared at the door, her steely eyes hard. 'Mistress Blanc is waiting downstairs.' Her tone, while polite, made it clear that even Silent slaves were still slaves who needed to obey the mistress.
'We’re going, aren’t we?' Bell said. 'All life, we’re going.'
She moved toward the door in a daze. Lizard’s mouth was dry and his hands were still shaking. He turned and looked at Pup, and suddenly the thought of leaving him was more than he could bear. All of a sudden there was so much to say. He grabbed Pup’s shoulders.
'Pup,' he said, 'Pup, I-'
Pup’s body went stiff and a guarded look came into his eyes. 'You what?' he said. His voice was wary. Something twisted inside Lizard and the words changed on his tongue.
'I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to …to be a body slave,' Lizard said. He backed up a step and shook Pup’s hand.
'Yeah. I’m sorry too,' Pup said. 'Really, I am.'
Lizard nodded once, then turned and followed his mother out the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Freedom is the ultimate drug.
The room was exactly the same as before. Yellow pathways lead between red platforms and green squares, and voices echoed off the hard walls. The only difference was that this time, Lizard had a chair to sit in.
His mother was already gone.
Lizard had gone berserk when her new owner lead her away. He jumped screaming off his platform, and the pain had blacked him out. When he awoke, she was gone, and he was back on his platform. That had been-what? Two hours ago? Three? It was hard to tell. Now he sat on the chair, dull and listless, as humans and aliens asked him questions. A small part of him wondered if his slow, stupid answers lowered his price, and he took some satisfaction in the possibility.
A jolt banged up his spine, making him gasp and rousing him from lethargy. A short, round woman with short black hair and coffee eyes removed a gentle hand from his ankle. She smiled at him as he blinked down at her.
'I just had to be sure,' she said, tapping the little data pad she carried. 'Don’t worry-I’ll be back. And you’ll be free.'
Lizard watched her go, not quite sure what she meant. He wasn’t free. He was pretty expensive, by all accounts. All around him, almost a hundred slaves of varying species sat or squatted in their squares. Only three others had chairs to sit in. Another half dozen platforms, including the one Bell had been confined on, held empty chairs. Lizard wondered if his mother had been placed in a different lot, which was why her silent (Silent?) auction ended before his did. Or maybe there was some other reason she had been taken earlier. He really had no way to know for sure.
The phrase echoed around Lizard’s mind, but he didn’t dwell on it. He was a slave, had been for three years and would be for the rest of his life. It didn’t matter what that woman said or did.
After a while, however, the round woman came back, data pad still clutched in one hand. She was smiling.
'It’s all arranged.' She touched Lizard’s platform. It blinked from red to green and sank to floor level. 'Let’s go before they find a way to change their minds, all right?'
'Are you my new owner?' Lizard asked uncertainly.
'Yes and no,' she said. 'I know that’s not a very good answer, but trust me for the moment. I don’t want to talk here. Come on. Walk behind me and keep your eyes down. Quickly!'
'Yes, Mistress.'
She pursed her lips. Lizard tried not to flinch. 'Never that,' she said. 'You may call me ‘Mother Ara’ or just ‘Mother,’ all right?'
Mother? What was she, a nun? A nun who bought slaves? 'Yes, Mist-Mother Ara.'
Mother Ara turned and strode away. Lizard hurried to follow, mystified. She went around to each of the other Silent slaves up for sale, her manner brisk yet furtive. Lizard exchanged glances with them but didn’t speak. As the entourage grew, Lizard began to wonder if this was an escape. It would explain why they were hurrying and why Mother Ara didn’t want to talk and why she had said Lizard would be free. A tiny spark of hope flared, and he let it remain. Something was going on here, and he had the distinct feeling that he and the other Silent slaves were going to benefit from it.
Mother Ara lead the group along a white corridor that looked exactly like the one Lizard and his mother had traversed when Mistress Blanc had bought them. The other slaves in the group consisted of a teenage boy and girl about Lizard’s age and a young man who looked to be about twenty. All three of them were white and all three wore the standard metal slave bands on wrist and ankle.
They arrived at an airlock, and Mother Ara shooed them through into the windowless entry bay of a ship. The moment the airlock had shut and cycled, Ara gave a heavy sigh.
'Chan,' she said, 'open intercom to Father Adept Michel. Father, I’ve got them all. I’m for getting out of here!'
'Welcome,' she said, 'to the Children of Irfan.'
She said it as if she expected them to cheer. None of them did, or even reacted, including Lizard. Mother Ara gave a small sigh. 'You’ve never heard of us, have you?'
The others either shook their heads or mumbled, 'No, Mother Ara.'
'Oh well. You’ll learn. Right now, though, we’ve come to my favorite part.' She consulted her data pad for a moment. When she next spoke, her voice became deep and rich with authority. 'Lizard Blanc, step forward. Hold out your hands.'
Lizard’s heart began to pound. What was she going to do? Would it hurt? Humiliate? His mind flashed back to his brother Utang and the slaver Feder. What if she was like him? What if-?
'In the name of Irfan Qasad, founder of our order and mother of us all, I set you free.' Ara pressed her thumb to his wristband. 'Release.'
For the first time in over three years, Lizard’s band sprang open. It clattered on the deck. The ankleband followed suit of its own accord. Lizard stared down at the stripe of flesh where his wristband had been. The skin was paler and his arm felt oddly light.
'Do you accept this freedom and all the responsibilities it entails?' Mother Ara asked formally.
'Yes,' Lizard blurted out. 'You mean I’m free? Really free?'
She reached up to put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a solemn nod. 'You are free, without reservation, exception, or limitation.'
Lizard couldn’t move. It didn’t seem real. Ara left him and turned to the next slave, the young man. He was a bit taller than Lizard, with brown hair, a pug nose, and intensely green eyes. Handsome. He was also the owner of a small duffel bag-the only person in the group who seemed to have any possessions.
'Jeren Drew,' Mother Ara said, 'In the name of Irfan Qasad, founder of our order and mother of us all, I set you free.' His bands joined Lizard’s on the floor. Lizard’s earlier flicker of hope leaped into full bloom. It was true. All
