d the others to life. When they were all standing he
snapped his commands in a hectoring tone of voice.
"Come on, come on, first come best food. And don't forget your bowls,
put them away so they can't drop out, remember nothing to eat or drink
all day unless you have a bowl. And let's work together today,
everyone pull his weight, that's the only way to do it. That goes for
all you men, specially you new men. Give them a day's work here and
they give you a day's food...."
"Oh shut up!" someone shouted.
"... And you can't complain about that," the strawboss whined on,
unperturbed. "Now altogether ... _one_ ... bend down and get your
hands around the bar, get a good grip and ... _two_ ... lift it clear
of the ground, that's the way. And ... _three_ ... stand up and out
the door we go."
They shuffled out into the sunlight and the cold wind of dawn bit
through his Pyrran coverall and the remnants of Ch'aka's leather
trappings that Jason had been allowed to keep. His captors had torn
off the claw-studded feet but not bothered the wrappings underneath,
so they hadn't found his boots. This was the only bright spot on an
otherwise unlimited vista of blackest gloom. Jason tried to be
thankful for small blessings, but only shivered some more. As soon as
possible this situation had to be changed since he had already served
his term as slave on this backwoods planet and was cut out for better
things.
On order the slaves lined up against the walls of the yard. Presenting
their bowls like scruffy penitents they accepted dippers of lukewarm
soup from another slave who pushed along a wheeled tub of the stuff:
he was chained to the tub. Jason's appetite vanished when he tasted
the sludge. It was _krenoj_ soup, and the desert tubers tasted even
worse--he hadn't thought it was possible--when served up in a broth.
But survival was more important than fastidiousness, so he gulped the
evil stuff down.
* * * * *
Breakfast over they marched out the gate into another compound and
fascinated interest displaced all of Jason's concerns. In the center
of the yard was a large capstan into which the first group of slaves
were already fitting the end of their bar. Jason's group, and the two
others, shuffled into position and seated their bars, making a four
spoked wheel out of the capstan. An overseer shouted and the slaves
groaned and threw their weight against the bars until they shuddered
and began t
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