The Politics of Worlds

originally posted September 21, 2006


"I do not own a slave called Arjentia," I said to the Magistrate.
We were detained at the gate. I wondered at the security of the Metellan, of the Anbar, with so many Guardsmen detailed to the assignment of accosting a citizen of the empire.
"Do not be difficult, Poet. Cut the five girl, the naked one, from the chain," he demanded.
I stayed Mathor's hand. It would have been foolish of him to advance against the numbers before him. That was when one of the fellows hidden beneath the robes of a Merchant lowered his cowl. His hair was a shock of red. I knew him. He was once denied bread and salt. He was told to remain at least ten pasangs from the walls of my city, yet he stood there within her walls. He addressed me politely, if gravely.
"She is integral to the security of this world," he told me.
And so the girl was seized, transported to Port Kar in the care of the red-haired Merchant and another called Samos, purported to be both politician and pirate in that coastal city on the western edge of the world. The writs were prepared and signed by the proper authorities and assurances were that every effort would be made to take reasonable care with my property. She is only a slave, however. The perception of her value will vary from fellow to fellow.
"These things are not easy to determine," I was told.
Would it take a few days? Perhaps a few months.
"It might take more than a year," I was told.
"Depending upon the method of encoding," it was said, "she may not survive."
"It cannot be helped. Extracting the message is integral to the security of this world."
I am not pleased about it, but the ramifications are beyond my ken. I let them take her. The other slaves I own have questions. Why wouldn't they? While curiosity is not becoming in a kajira, it is inevitable. They seized the girl I twice contracted into companionship and escorted her across the continent. She was not guilty of a crime, but she was complicit. She has, unbeknownst to herself, answers to questions that are crucial to planetary politics. And here I thought all that she had rattling around in her head was rocks.