The Man-Kzin Wars 12

I
AD 2554

"Basically, I am a dealer in exotic slaves." The tall kzin drank with an expression of relish from the goblet of vatach blood his host had offered. "Like that one."

He gestured to the shackled female human who squatted, trembling, at his feet. The creature flinched at the gesture, its wide terrified eyes darting back and forth between the great felinoids as if it was trying to understand their speech. There were drops of skin-excreted liquid on its face, and its chest heaved. Both kzinti could sense its terror, a stimulant to kzinti senses.

The Marquis Warrgh-Churrg, largest landowner of the planet of Kzrral's main northern continent, regarded his guest with a look of moderate surprise. He reclined at ease on a couch, like a smaller, softer, indoor version of the stone foochesth that were a feature of some kzinti parks.

"Between worlds? I would not have thought there was a living in it. We have not found much trade along those lines worthwhile since the war losses to our spacecraft." There was nothing obviously threatening in his words or the tense he employed, but lying half-curled on the fooch his huge bulk dominated the room and all within it.

"It is not necessarily a good living," replied his guest. "These are difficult times. The Patriarch has said that a Hero's duty now is to survive and the duty of us all is to rebuild our strength as a race for the…future. Noble and Dominant One, I trade"-the Hero's Tongue carried an inflection of distaste-"in other high-value items too, precious stones, rare elements, W'kkai puzzles, silk from Earth, even bulk gold if there is enough marrgin in it. Liquors, perfumes, and cordials too, at times. I hope that before I leave I may present you with a few samples and recipes in some return for your noble hospitality…"

The magnate inclined his great head.

"But rare slaves are the mainstay," his guest continued. "Trained, clever ones. As you are aware, the prime sources of monkeys are lost to us."

"You profit from the misfortunes of our kind? Do you have bulk gold in your ship at this time, then?"

"I make a living from mitigating those misfortunes, enabling Heroes to live as Heroes should despite the worst the monkeys can do. Though we were long ago driven from Ka'ashi, we still have upon some of our own worlds a few breeding colonies of such slaves who were brought there before the truce. It is a trade the humans"-the Hero's Tongue carried an even stronger inflection with that term, black lips drawing back to show a collection of daggerlike fangs-"would not approve if they knew of it. But yes, Noble and Dominant Marquis Warrgh-Churrg, I have a little gold. Largely monkey-minted coins. You may imagine how I acquired them. Not all humans are sufficiently wary of us in these times."

"What if humans should come upon you in space?"

"Space is large. There is little chance of that. And after all, we are in a state of truce. But should they do so, I trust I have not forgotten the heritage of my Sires."

"You have kittens? Surely they would grow old and die while you were between worlds. You would not see them."

"My kits must fend for themselves for long, as in the olden time. As I say, and as we all know too well, these are difficult times for many of our kind. But there are ways to save time."

"You have a hyperdrive?" There was a sudden sharpness in the other's question. There was tense silence for a moment between the two, broken only by the splash of water from the fountain that dominated the court: a great golden bowl, held aloft on the sculpted backs and shoulders of four golden humanoid slaves. The wide-eyed human flinched and sweated. The off-world kzin twitched ears and tail expressively, replying in a tone submissive but urbane:

"Not I personally, Honored Host. You have seen my ship. But yes, your observation is shrewd and correct. My principals on my homeworld have access to one of the few hyperdrive units which the humans allow us and are aware of, though whether they know the use we put it to is another matter. We pay them a large bribe not to take excessive interest in us-monkeys, as you know, have little or no honor-but it sadly inflates all our operating costs. However, it makes long journeys feasible. At present it is parked several weeks away."

"You are not your own master, then?"

"Only as far as ship captains usually are. I report ultimately to others."

"A telepath could show us your superluminal ship's location."

"Only if he could read a mechanical brain. It is encoded in my own ship's computer. And that will self-destruct if tampered with by anyone unauthorized."

"Such difficulties have been overcome before."

"I doubt they would be in this case, my principals are very security-conscious. Perhaps even overly so. But my alive and physiologically healthy presence in my ship is necessary for it to respond to the activating code words and pattern-recognition logic. Coercing me or using parts of my dead person to gain access would be futile."

"The Patriarch has few hyperdrive ships. We lost most of our ships in the wars, and the accursed UNSN has informed us what their response would be to any large-scale rebuilding program."

"The Patriarch's Admiralty keeps such things for military purposes, and its security is strict. It has, I am sure, a building program for a fleet that will one day enable us, at last, to…Urrr. The humans allow us a token fleet, presumably thinking that such a scrap will satisfy us… " His voice trailed off. After the Second War with Men, humans had greatly restricted kzinti access to the hyperdrive again, but any kzintosh knew what the Patriarch's fleet would be looking to do one day.

"However, Dominant and Feared Warrgh-Churrg, if I cannot offer you the technology of the hyperdrive, I can perhaps offer you a profitable trade. On my way here I noticed human slaves in the streets. As other visitors have told me, you have kz’eerkti on this planet."

"Kz’eerkti? Yes."

"Like this one?"

"The same sort of thing, yes." Warrgh-Churrg made a negligent, regal gesture with his tail at the sculptures and to one of the floor mosaics, showing somewhat stylized humanoids and other beasts arranged with hunting and leaping kzinti amid fylfots and patterns of battlements and teeth. His tail wave also took in a couple of stuffed specimens bearing another golden bowl and one posed in a fighting crouch with its puny fingers extended and its mouth open to scream. His hall was further adorned with the heads of several species, kzinti among them, but also a fair-sized troop of simians. "Got a few live ones around too." His gesture also took in a live simian in slave's drab peering at them from a distant archway. It turned and fled from sight.

"You hunt them?"

"Oh, the wild ones, yes." Warrgh-Churrg indicated his trophy belt, adorned with a proud showing of dried simian ears along with kzinti ones, taking in as he did so the similar but smaller collections on his guest's belt.

"Are they intelligent?"

"They are trainable, clever like trained Jotoki, but less reliable. Unless caught as infants, they are not trusty slaves. But," he added, "trained up young they can be useful."

"Where do they live? In the forests?"

"Mainly in the south. The forest belt and the hot savannah beyond. Probably also in the badlands."

"Are they common?"

"I have not counted them. I chased them when I was a kit, as my own kits do now, and still I hunt there sometimes when I visit my southern estates. Some southerners hunt them regularly." Warrgh-Churrg's body language indicated that while he was pleased to display the visible signs of affluence in his palace, his interest in the kz’eerkti habitat was less than overwhelming. His guest adopted a tense-of-polite-request, humble but not too humble.

"Forgive my curiosity, Noble Host and Marquis Warrgh-Churrg, but my interest is professional. How did they get here?"

Warrgh-Churrg shrugged his ears in a dismissive gesture.

"We had Heroes in the first fleet to Ka'ashi. Some may have returned with kz’eerkti slaves. I had relations among them. And other Heroes came later. Possibly new slaves mixed with the locals…

"Some of the landowners want to get rid of them altogether. As slaves, the adult-caught ones are never very reliable. We tried castrating them and removing their teeth and fingernails, but we found that, often enough, that only made them more savage. And, eunuchs being eunuchs everywhere I suppose, they often joined with our own kzinti eunuchs in the harems and elsewhere to plot and spread disloyalty."

"Still, on other worlds human slaves can command a very high price now," Trader told him. "My principals have the resources to buy many if they are suitable-whole troops of them. They would send ships to collect them. They are still popular on Kzinhome."

"Even after the monkeys burnt our fleets and took Ka'ashi back?"

"They took more than Ka'ashi in the First and Second Wars. But exactly. That is a large part of the reason why human slaves are in demand, apart from the sport the best of them can give in the hunt. It reminds us in these unfortunate times that they are not all-conquering, and that times can change. You may have a great source of wealth here."

"I have much wealth already, Trader." Warrgh-Churrg again gestured expansively about the room, heavy with gold, hung with lustrous purple, panels on floors and walls bedizened with intricate stones, their tiles slanted minutely to catch the shifting sunlight in changing pictures and patterns.

"Feared Warrgh-Churrg, that is plain from the magnificence of your abode and of your hospitality. Still, perhaps there are things I can offer…with trade between the stars so limited by the cursed kz’eerkti…"

Warrgh-Churrg nodded, his ears and tail twitching thoughtfully.

"Urrr. I will speak to Estate Manager. We will perhaps discuss this later. Now I shall prepare for the entertainment tonight."

"I am looking forward to it. I respectfully seek your leave to return to my ship and prepare on my own account, that my apparel and grooming may be less unworthy of your hospitality."

Trader bent while Warrgh-Churrg sprayed a little urine on him, an archaic lordly gesture signifying to all kzinti that he was the magnate's guest and under his protection. Trader exposed his throat and belly in the equally ancient ritual gesture of submission and Warrgh-Churrg dismissed him with a gracious flick of his tail.

The offworld kzin departed with decorum, striding through the great doors and down the wide snowy street toward the space port, the bowed, shackled human scurrying behind on its lead.