Crown of Slaves

Berry stared at her, suddenly realizing that her little sketch of the situation had been… yes. Incoherent.

'Oh, sorry. He's on the ship.' She nodded in the direction that she thought-although wasn't sure-was the location of the bridge. 'He's trying to keep the Masadans distracted while Thandi-uh, that's Lieutenant Palane of the Solarian Marines-leads a strike force into the ship through one of the entries.'

The wide-eyed stares were back. 'The Solarians?'Georg was squinting suspiciously again. 'Solarians are all a bunch of two-faced-'

'No politics!' snapped Harrell. He was glaring at Georg. 'I also happen to think quite highly of Hieronymus Stein, even if you don't. And what the hell gave you the right-'

' 'No politics,' you said, Harrell,' growled Kathryn. 'Good advice. Follow it yourself.'

Harrell's mouth closed. After an instant, he grunted something halfway between an apology and a simple acknowledgment.

Kathryn was clearly the leader of the group. She now growled at Georg: 'And I will remind you, Comrade, that the Ballroom has never officially denounced the Solarian League. Whatever you-or I-or Jeremy X, for that matter-might think in private.'

When she turned back to Berry, she smiled. 'Still and all, it is a bit odd.'

Berry tried to figure out how to explain. That was hard to the point of impossible, for the simple reason that she herself had only the fuzziest notion of exactly what the Solarians were maneuvering for.

Get Web to give me some lessons, she told herself firmly. Right after I start exercising. Oh, yuck.

She fell back on simplicities. 'Well… Thandi's from Ndebele. I don't think she's all that fond of the Solarian League herself, when you get right down to it, even if she is a lieutenant in their Marine Corps.'

Again, a word proved to be a magic talisman. The name of a planet, this time, rather than a man.

'Oh. Ndebele.' That was from Georg. Even he seemed mollified. 'They get it almost as bad as we do.'

One of the other slaves, who hadn't spoken yet and whose name Berry couldn't remember, barked a little laugh.

'What do you mean, 'they' and 'we'?' she demanded. She bowed her head and ran fingers through very blond, very kinky hair. 'Where do you think I got this pelt from, Georg? My upper-crust ancestors?'

Her laugh was echoed by others. Looking around, now that she knew what to look for, Berry could see Mfecane genetic traces in the faces-not to mention the size and musculature-of several of the slaves.

'How soon can we expect this Lieutenant Palane of yours?' asked Kathryn, bringing things back to the business at hand.

'Oh. Well… knowing Thandi, I'd say sooner than you think,' she said, then paused, considering exactly how to broach the next little point it had suddenly occurred to her needed explaining in light of Mesa's personnel hiring practices.

'What is it, Princess?' Kathryn asked, gazing at her shrewdly, and Berry sighed.

'It's just… well, Thandi's assault team's members aren't Marines like she is.'

'They're not?' Kathryn and Georg both frowned.

'No,' Berry said, then shrugged. Best to take the hurdle in a rush, she told herself firmly. 'She's got her own people-sort of her own, private little unit. Very much undercover and off the books, I think. But the point is that all of her other team members are, well, Scrags.'

'Scrags?!' Kathryn hissed, and Berry saw her sudden fury mirrored in more than one face. She could literally feel the hatred rising about her, and she started to shrink back. But then, to her own surprise, her spine stiffened and she raised her chin.

'Yes,' she said flatly. 'It would be more accurate to call them ex-Scrags, actually. 'Amazons' is what Thandi is calling them now, and they're busy trying their best to grow into the new role she expects of them.' The 'Princess' chuckled suddenly. 'Believe me-you don't want to disappoint Thandi. Not if you know what's good for you!'

Kathryn looked a bit more mollified, but not a lot, and Berry shrugged.

'You have my personal assurance that Thandi's Amazons will do exactly what she tells them to… and that they have their own personal reasons to hate Mesans and-especially-the Masadans aboard this ship every bit as much as you do. For that matter, they've already saved my life from other Scrags aboard the space station.' She paused, considering that last sentence, then shrugged again. 'Well, actually, they helped Thandi do it and sort of held her coat for her while she kicked the crap out of the Scrag in question barehanded.'

Kathryn gazed at her for a few more moment, then barked a sharp, sudden laugh. It was not at all a pleasant sound, but it seemed to have banished any lingering reservations about the nature of the assault party, and she started giving orders. Within seconds, most of the onlookers were gone, hurrying to spread the word through the slave quarters.

'Okay,' she said, turning back to Berry. 'That'll avoid any possible immediate problems. But then what happens? Assuming that your Lieutenant Palane-and Victor Cachat-manage to take the ship back from the Masadans.' She made a little sweeping hand gesture, indicating all the slaves. 'What happens to us?'

Berry started to explain. Within seconds, the feeling of surrealism was back in full force.

Being a 'princess' is weird enough. Being a 'prophetess' is even weirder.

Chapter 38

'All right, Prin-uh, Berry,' Thandi said, quietly but firmly. She rose from her squatting position in front of the hatch, where she'd been watching Ruth at her work. 'Now you get your butt out of here.'

For a moment, Ruth looked mulish. Smiling, Berry hauled her away from the hatch.

'Leave it be, 'Berry,' ' she whispered. 'You are not trained as a commando.'

As reluctant as she might be to break away from the action-it was obvious to Berry that, deny it however she might, Ruth had been having the time of her life-the Princess didn't really put up a struggle. The young royal was adventurous, true, but she wasn't downright insane. She'd already done what she needed to do: break the codes which would enable Thandi to open the hatch leading to the bridge without setting off any alarms. From here, it would be all mayhem and fast-moving havoc. As relatively athletic as she was, Princess Ruth had no chance at all of keeping up with Thandi Palane and her Amazons. She'd just get in their way, and she knew it.

Berry guided her toward the hatch on the opposite side of the small chamber, which led back into the slave quarters.

'Damn,' Ruth muttered. 'You know as well as I do that once my aunt finds out about this…' She made a face. 'I'll be lucky if she ever lets me out of my own suite in Mount Royal Palace. Till I'm dead or she is.'

'Hush,' whispered Berry, nodding meaningfully toward the hatch she was starting to open. 'And don't forget that you're still me and I'm still you.'

Ruth nodded. She and Berry had managed a quick, whispered consultation after Thandi and her assault team had been welcomed into the slave quarters. They'd both agreed that it would be best to keep the masquerade going.

That had been Berry's suggestion, and she still felt weird about it. There was actually no reason to maintain the subterfuge, from the standpoint of the Masadan enemy. Those enemies would either be dead in a few minutes or they'd all be dead when the ship exploded. So why keep up the rigmarole?

But the simple fact was that-

Weird-weird-weird.

– by now, Berry had established a peculiar position among the slaves. The combination of the news she'd brought and her assumed identity as a 'princess' seemed to settle their nerves. She'd noticed that the steering committee, which had been in continuous-and often raucous-session since they'd learned of the plans for Congo,