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“No protests, Leader Kai? Leader Varian?” Paskutti’s tone and smile were taunting.

“Protests wouldn’t do us any good, would they?” said Varian. She spoke so calmly that Paskutti frowned as he regarded her. The limp left arm had obviously been broken by his mishandling of her, but there was no sign of pain or anger in her voice, merely a bemused detachment.

“No, protests wouldn’t, Leader Varian. We’ve had enough of you lightweights ordering us about, tolerating us because we’re useful.” He used a sneering tone. “Where would we have fit in your plantation? As beasts of burden? Muscles to be ordered here, there and everywhere, and subdued by pap?” He made a cutting gesture with one huge hand.

And then, before anyone realized what he intended, he swooped on Terilla, grabbed a handful of the child’s hair and yanked her off her feet, letting her dangle at the end of his hand. At Terilla’s single, terrified scream, Cleiti jumped up, beating her fists against Paskutti’s thick muscular thigh, kicking at his shins. Amused and surprised by such defiance, Paskutti glanced down at Cleiti. Then he raised his fist and landed a casual blow on the top of Cleiti’s head. She sank, unconscious, to the deck.

Gaber erupted and dashed at Paskutti who held the cartographer off with his other hand, all the while dangling Terilla by her hair, the girl’s eyes stretched to slits by the tautness of his grasp.

“Tell me, Leader Varian, Leader Kai, did you send a message to the Theks? One second’s delay and I’ll break her back across my knee.”

“We sent a message,” replied Kai promptly. “Mutiny. Heavy-worlders.”

“Did you ask for help from our estimable supervisors?” asked Paskutti, giving Terilla a shake when he thought Kai deliberated too long in answering.

“Help? From Theks?” asked Varian, her eyes never leaving the helplessly swinging girl. “It would take them several days to ponder the message. By then, your . . . operation will be all over, won’t it? No, we merely reported a condition.”

“Only to the Theks?”

Now Kai saw what Paskutti needed to know: whether or not a message had also been beamed up to the satellite. If so, he would have to alter his “operation” in accordance.

“Only to the Theks,” said Kai, the mind-dominated part of his emotions wanting to add, “now release the girl.”

“You know what you need to know,” screamed Gaber, still attempting to reach Paskutti and make him release Terilla. “You’ll kill the child. Release her! Release her! You told her there’d be no violence. No one hurt! You’ve killed Trizein, and if you don’t let go of that child . . .”

Paskutti casually swatted Gaber into silence. The cartographer hit the deck with a terrible thud and rolled to one side. Terilla was dropped in a heap by Cleiti. Kai couldn’t tell if the girl had been killed by the mishandling. He glanced surreptitiously at Lunzie who was staring at the girls. Some relaxation about the woman’s eyes reassured him: the girls were alive.

Beside him, Triv had completed the preliminaries to Discipline. Now he, too, would wait until his strength could be of use. The hardest part was the waiting until such time as this controlled inner strength would be channeled into escape. Kai breathed low in the diaphragm, willing himself to the patience required to endure this hideous display of brute strength and cruelty.

Dimenon was rousing but, although he moaned in pain, Lunzie did not attend him. Margit, Aulia and Portegin kept their eyes front, trying not to focus on scenes they could neither stop nor change.

Tanegli came storming up the ramp to the shuttle, his face contorted with anger, a man controlled by his emotions, no longer the calm rational botanist, interested in growing things.

“There isn’t a power pack in any of the sleds,” he told Paskutti but he strode right up to Varian, grabbing her by both arms and shaking her. Kai willed her to feign unconsciousness. Such handling might impair any chance of that broken shoulder healing properly.

“Where