Crown of Slaves

'Captain Luis Rozsak, SLN,' the newcomer said, 'and this is my command,' he added, as the units of his destroyer flotilla disengaged their stealth systems and brought their impeller wedges to full power in a perfectly synchronized maneuver. Eighteen destroyers and Rozsak's light cruiser flagship suddenly appeared on Navarre's sensors.

'Who the hell are you?' Navarre demanded, shocked out of his easy assumption of superiority by the abrupt appearance of so many more ships.

'I am the senior naval officer assigned by the Solarian Navy to the Maya Sector,' Rozsak said calmly. 'And, as Captain Oversteegen, the Solarian League, in the form of the Maya Sector, has also been appealed to by the provisional government of Torch for assistance and protection.'

'And?' Navarre snarled.

'And the sector has decided to extend that assistance and protection,' Rozsak told him.

'Barregos has agreed to this lunacy?' Navarre shook his head, his expression incredulous.

'The actual decision was made by Lieutenant Governor Cassetti,' Rozsak said. 'The lieutenant governor has initialed a commercial and mutual defense treaty with the provisional government.'

'There is no provisional government!' Navarre half-shouted. 'There can't be!' He clenched his fists, obviously fighting for self-control. 'The planet is the property of a Mesan corporation.'

'The planet, like any other planet, belongs to its citizens,' Roszak corrected. 'That, Commodore, has been the official policy of the Solarian League from its inception.'

Navarre stared at him, and Oversteegen was hard pressed not to laugh outright at the Mesan's expression. True, the policy Rozsak had just enunciated-with, Oversteegen noted, a completely straight face-had indeed been the official one of the Solarian League from the beginning. It was also one the Office of Frontier Security had ignored for centuries… when it hadn't actively conspired to fold, twist, and mutilate it with the connivance of powerful corporations and business combines.

Corporations and combines headquartered, quite often, on Mesa, as it happened.

'The 'citizens' to whom you refer,' Navarre said, after a long, silent pause, 'were transported to this planet, housed, and fed by Manpower. They are, in effect, the employees of the corporation. As such, they have no legal standing as 'citizens,' and certainly no legal right to… expropriate the company's property.'

'The citizens of Torch,' Roszak said, and this time his voice was just as cold as Oversteegen's had been, 'were transported to this planet by Manpower not as employees, Commodore, but as property. And I would remind you that the Constitution of the Solarian League specifically rejects and outlaws the institution of slavery, whether genetically based or not, and that the League has steadfastly refused ever to recognize any legal standing for the institution or its practice. As such, the League views the present inhabitants of Torch as its legal citizens and owners and has negotiated in good faith with the provisional government which they have established.'

'And that's your final position, is it?' Navarre's hazel eyes glittered with fury and hatred, and Roszak smiled.

'Like Captain Oversteegen, I'm only a naval officer, Commodore, not a diplomat, and certainly not a sector governor. I am obviously not in any position to tell you what Governor Barregos' final official position will be. At the moment, however, Lieutenant Governor Cassetti, as Governor Barregos' personal representative, has provisionally recognized Torch's independence and entered binding treaty relationships with it. I suppose that it's always possible Governor Barregos will determine that the lieutenant governor exceeded his authority in taking those actions and repudiate them, but until such time as he does so, I remain bound by the existing treaties.' His smile disappeared. 'And I will enforce them, Commodore,' he added in a very cold voice, indeed.

'The two of you together wouldn't stand a chance against my task group,' Navarre said flatly.

'You might be surprised by how much of a chance we'd stand,' Roszak replied. 'And while you might very probably win in the end, the cost would be… considerable. I rather doubt that your admiralty would be very happy about that.'

'And speakin' purely as a backward and benighted neobarb,' Oversteegen observed with deadly affability, 'I really suspect, Commodore, that your government would be most unhappy with the officer who managed, in one afternoon, t' get them into a shootin' war with both the Solarian League and the Star Kingdom of Manticore.'

Navarre deflated visibly. It was rather like watching the air flow out of a punctured balloon, Oversteegen thought. The commodore was clearly picturing what a squadron or two of modern Manticoran ships-of-the-wall could do to the entire Mesan Navy. Especially if the Solarian League wasn't simply giving them free passage to reach Mesa but actually acting as a cobelligerent.

Rozsak saw the same thoughts flow across Navarre's face and smiled once more, ever so slightly.

'I think, Commodore,' he suggested gently, 'that it might be best, all things considered, if you left the sovereign star system of Torch.

'Now.'

Chapter 47

Berry found it difficult not to wince, watching the Mesan personnel filing past her into the building which served Congo-no, Torch, now-as the assembly area for its shuttle grounds. The faces of the children, of which there were more than she'd expected, were especially hard to watch. Their expressions were a combination of exhaustion, terror, shock-in some cases, what looked like borderline psychosis.

Those people were the survivors of the savage slave rebellion which had erupted on Congo as soon as word began to spread that the space station had been seized by…

Whoever. It didn't matter, really, as long as they were anti-Mesan. Congo had been a prison planet, in essence. Once all of the really powerful military forces at the disposal of Mesa, including the kinetic missiles with which the planet could be bombarded in case of extreme necessity, had been taken out of the equation, the Mesan personnel on the planet had been, for all practical purposes, in the same position as British clerks had been when the Sepoy Mutiny swept over them. Dead meat, if they didn't get to an enclave quick enough. The light weaponry in the hands of the overseers, by itself, was simply not enough to cow slaves filled with the fury of generations of oppression and exploitation.

Not even close. Those overseers who did try to stand their ground had been overwhelmed-and their weapons turned to the use of killing other overseers. Not just 'overseers,' either. Anyone-even a child-associated with 'Mesa' or especially 'Manpower' had been under sentence of death, everywhere on the planet's surface. A sentence which had been imposed immediately, mercilessly, and in some cases accompanied by the most horrible atrocities.

There had been some exceptions, here and there. Mesans whose duties had not involved discipline over the slaves, especially those who had established a reputation for being at least decent, had been spared in a number of cases. There was even one instance where an entire settlement of Mesan scientists and pharmaceutical technicians and their families had been protected by an improvised slave defense guard against slaves coming in from the outside.

But, for the most part, any Mesan who hadn't gotten himself quickly enough to one of the enclaves where armed Mesans had been able to fort up and hold off the slaves until the surrender was negotiated had simply been slaughtered. The entire surface of the planet had been engulfed, for two days, in a wave of pure murder.

And it hadn't taken long for the word to spread, either-nor the further word that the space station was now in the hands of the Audubon Ballroom, which had simply poured fuel on an already spreading conflagration. Death to Mesa. Death to Manpower. Now.

Once again, Berry realized, the economic reality of slavery based on a high level of technical advancement had manifested itself. There were simply too many ways for literate slaves, in a modern technical society, to gain access to information once the opportunity arose. Which it had, in most cases, when dumbfounded slaves suddenly saw Mesan overseers and staff personnel piling into vehicles and abandoning the area-their faces making their own panic obvious. The slaves, after an initial hesitation, had simply walked into the communications centers and