the surface of the sea. They saw a few “regular” lizard birds like those they’d become accustomed to within the Malay Barrier, but they were oddly shaped, and ironically, some had beaks instead of teeth. They seemed more suited for stooping and diving for prey, which Courtney enthusiastically watched them do occasionally. Mostly, however, the birds they saw acted just as curious about the ships as Courtney was about them, and curses from the deck division competed with Courtney’s chortles of glee.
One evening, Jenks suggested they anchor for the night in the lee of a low but expansive atoll. Far to the east southeast, a high, hazy shoreline could be seen. They’d raised Respite at last. Jenks said picking their way through the jumble of shoals from this direction could be hazardous in the dark, however, so Captain Reddy agreed to the pause and invited Jenks and his officers to dinner. To the frank amazement of everyone, Tabby had apparently turned the corner, and she’d finally been moved to her berth in the aft crew’s quarters. She hardly got any sleep, to hear Spanky go on about it, what with everyone “carrying on over her so,” but Spanky himself still visited her at least twice a day. In any event, the wardroom was finally clear and the ship’s officers could gather there once again.
This was the first time there’d been a “social” meeting of the two commanders in weeks, and despite the carefully cleaned uniforms, all the Imperials looked tired and hard-used, with the possible exception of Ensign-now Lieutenant-Parr, who’d been given command of Icarus. When the Imperials were piped aboard, Matt and his side party returned their salutes with pleasure after each and every one of them first saluted Walker ’s flag. Matt reflected that they’d certainly come a long way since their first meeting. He shook Jenks’s hand, but had to raise an eyebrow at O’Casey, or “Bates,” as Jenks called him. The one-armed former “rebel” now wore the uniform of an Imperial Navy lieutenant.
“Coming up in the world, aren’t you, Sean?” he said with a grin.
O’Casey shrugged. “’Tis really a demotion, I fear,” he said. “From beleaguered leader o’ the resistance, to mere lieutenant…” He shook his head. “How the mighty are felled.”
Jenks snorted. “I presume you prefer the fit of that uniform to a rope, do you not? Besides, you have converted me to your cause. At least you might still accomplish something without being shot on sight.”
O’Casey grinned. “Aye, there’s that! I’ve often heard it said ’tis better ta serve in hell than be led ta the gallows-an’ then serve in hell!” That provoked a round of chuckles. Matt already knew there’d been some classic books aboard the ships of Jenks’s ancestors. Matt had read many such books, and his ability to swap occasional literary references reinforced the common, if distant, heritage that his human destroyermen shared with the Imperials. In this instance, the deliberate misquote and O’Casey’s and Jenks’s banter confirmed that the two men were still getting along. After having once been friends, the two had become deadly enemies. Now, with Jenks’s discovery that O’Casey’s rebellion against the Company had been justified-if possibly premature-it seemed almost as if the years of hatred had fallen away. Matt knew Jenks hadn’t needed to make O’Casey even a lieutenant. Essentially he’d evolved into Jenks’s own version of Matt’s Chief Gray-friend, discreet confidant, and personal protector.
O’Casey might not have the widespread, generally positive reputation Gray enjoyed, but he basically filled the same niche. Both men were large and powerful, but still considerably more than they appeared at first glance. O’Casey was the younger of the two, in his mid-forties. His hair had gone salt and pepper, including the wide handlebar mustaches trimmed much like the one Jenks wore, except in O’Casey’s case the ends weren’t braided but twisted and waxed. His skin was darker too, alluding to an ancestry mixed with the original “passage era” partial Lascar crews, or transportees aboard the eighteenth-century East Indiamen the Imperials had arrived in from the same world as the destroyermen. O’Casey himself professed to know little about his early lineage. His dark skin might even have come from other sources that Matt was just beginning to learn about.
“Well,” Matt said, “why don’t we adjourn to the wardroom? Mr. Marcos assures me that he’s managed to put something edible together.”
“Yes, thank you, Captain Reddy,” said Jenks. He paused, glancing about at the destroyermen within earshot, the men in particular. He seemed a bit pensive when he continued. “Now that we stand on the brink of meeting more of my people… ah, civilians for the first time, there are a few things we should perhaps discuss so that there are no… misunderstandings, as it were.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Matt practically exploded. He half rose from his seat, nearly overturning his coffee cup.
Jenks made a visible effort to control his voice. “I am not. And though I do not personally approve of the… institution, I’m no crazed abolitionist either. It’s a practice that has served the Empire well for many generations- the tool that ensured our very survival! On the other hand, I do believe its time has largely passed and I admit to certain… moral objections to its continuation. It’s not a practice that can simply be ‘shut off,’ however. It’s too ingrained, too much a part of our society. Arguably, the Company is largely responsible for that, and my hope is that once we’ve dealt with it, we can begin a gradual dissolution of all the immoral institutions it supports.”
“Holy…” Gray breathed. “They own women like pets!”
“How do you buy one?” Campeti asked wonderingly, and Matt glared at him.
“It’s not slavery-” Jenks insisted, but Matt interrupted.
“The hell it’s not!”
“It is not slavery,” Jenks continued determinedly, “and they’re NOT property… as such. They are ‘obligated,’ however, and there’s a value placed on that ‘obligation.’ ”
Selass stood so suddenly that she upset the table again and did knock over a couple of cups. Matt was glad they’d waited until the meal was over before beginning the discussion in earnest, otherwise much of Juan’s hard work would have wound up on the green linoleum deck.
“This is the most shocking, barbaric thing I’ve ever heard of!” she spat. “I can guarantee that my father, the Great Keje-Fris-Ar will be no party to this… abomination! There can be no ‘alliance’ with people such as you!”
“Ah… Madam… uh…” Jenks sputtered.
“The title’s ‘Nurse Lieutenant,’ Commodore,” Matt said icily.
“Nurse Lieutenant… Fris-Ar,” Jenks continued. “You have my most abject apology for disturbing you, but it is not I who adopted this policy, nor, as I said, do I condone it now. That said, is it more barbaric than the Grik? You’ve heard me mention the so-called ‘Holy Dominion,’ but you don’t know Them yet. I assure you that ‘barbarous’ as the Empire may suddenly seem in your eyes, barbarity can be a very relative thing.”
“But… to keep females in bondage…!”
Jenks sighed. “Believe me, I sympathize with your dismay. Please try to imagine mine. I have never been witness to any civilization in which women-females-are so fully integrated into the mainstream of society. Female warriors! Doctors! Leaders! It boggles the mind! Among the various cultures I’ve met, I’ve discovered a few-similar to that from which your ‘Lawrence’ springs, I have no doubt-where there is a matriarchy, but their queen is the only female who wields great power. Otherwise, our ‘system’ would seem to reflect the norm on this world. Regardless, after long association, I have managed to grow… accustomed to the way you do things.” He turned to Matt. “Your Sandra Tucker, one of the very reasons for this expedition-you cannot imagine my surprise when I first divined that not only was she an important political figure, but you actually consulted her on matters of policy! Do you remember that day you took me on a tour of industrial works and your shipyard? That was the first time I fully realized… I was shocked and troubled, I admit, but she also made some quite excellent points about our mutual interests, if you’ll recall. They certainly made an impression on me.” He turned back to Selass, still standing before him. “Our females are not strictly in ‘bondage,’ as you say. Most are quite free. Some, such as the princess, even enjoy tremendous power. In certain circumstances, historically, her predecessors have even been the ‘matriarchal’ exception to the rule. Some females are ‘obligated,’ however, as I said, but there are strict laws concerning their treatment. They owe a debt and must ‘work it off.’”
Matt suddenly understood a lot that had remained mysterious to him before; subtle comments or turns of phrase from both Jenks and Princess Rebecca returned to the forefront of his mind. He did remember Jenks’s odd behavior whenever Sandra was around and openly voicing opinions and exercising authority in a way that he now knew Imperial females, no matter how highborn, simply didn’t do. Evidently, of all female Imperials, only Princess Rebecca, as heir to the Governor-Emperor’s throne, had real status and authority within the Empire.
“Indentured servitude, then,” Spanky growled.
Jenks nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. A far more appropriate term than ‘slavery,’ at any rate.”
“Not much different in practice, though,” said Lieutenant Palmer. “Who do they owe their ‘debt’ to? The
