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"It's not funny," said the unnamed boy. "Leave them alone. They can't help being Aux."
"Can't they?" said Stephan. "I reckon they can. You're not born an Aux. You become one because you're a loser." He addressed Hortez and Arun. "You are losers, aren't you?"
Hortez answered without hesitation. "Yes, sir."
"Why're you a loser?" Rammy asked him. "What didja do?"
"No, don't answer that," the girl told Hortez.
"Why shouldn't he, Ibri?" asked Rammy.
"Because I don't want to hear any of the ways in which we could end up like them. Besides, you're an utter skangat, Ramdas Tammaro. I expect Stephan put you up to this and you were too p.u.s.s.y to stand up to him. You're better than this."
"I don't plan on being a loser," said Ramdas. There was steel in his voice. Arun reckoned he'd already worked out that his date was a wash out. Tough luck, you veck.
"Yeah? Well, I don't expect those two did either," said his date, "but look where they ended up all the same."
"I still say they're frakking losers," said Ramdas.
His date glared back, daring him to retract.
Then the other boy upped the stakes. "Apologize to those poor guys," he demanded.
Arun glanced at Hortez. His friend was wearing a glazed expression as if he weren't entirely there. Arun was beginning to see how that worked. Here was an argument going on right in front of their faces. On the surface, at least, the argument was about the two Aux, but the truth was that they weren't really part of the exchange. As Aux, they were expected to wait there in silence until their betters permitted them to go about their business.
Only yesterday, if he'd come here wearing his cadet's fatigues, the novices would have stepped politely aside out of his way. Well, he decided, he was still the same person as the day before. And so he spoke up.
"There's no harm done," Arun said. "Let us go on our way."
"Stay where you are," ordered the girl. She redirected her glare at Arun, if anything, intensifying it. "You're not going anywhere until these two idiots say sorry."
Eventually, after much sighing and rolling of eyes, Stephan and Ramdas made grunting sounds that their dates decided to interpret as apologies. Hortez and Arun were allowed to get back to the collection vat.
They didn't speak for a long time, the only sound the squeak of the dung cart wheels and the slurp and plop of shoveling slurry.
"At first I didn't know what was worse," said Hortez eventually, "the novices who try to grind our face in the dirt, or the ones who pity us. Now? There's no contest. The ones who pity us sometimes throw us sc.r.a.ps to eat. I gulp down every morsel and thank them with every mouthful."
Arun couldn't think of a reply. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't special. It was only the hope that they would let him back into the hab-disks in a few days that separated Arun from Hortez. If he had to stay here forever, he had no doubt he would soon be begging for sc.r.a.ps himself.
And worst of all, it had been him who had gotten Hortez kicked out of the battalion in the first place.
He wracked his mind, trying to think of a way to help out his old friend, hoping his subconscious had worked its planning magic.
But he couldn't. Hortez's plight was hopeless.
The only question was whether Arun and the girls would be joining him.
* Chapter 29 *
That evening, Arun, Springer and Madge joined the roll call of 52 Aux workers, lined up in the back row. They were short one worker, Number 47 having gone off to the kitchen to fetch the evening meal.
Instead of Tawfiq, another Hardit took the roll call. From the faded blue dye in her mane, Arun identified her as Hen Beddes-Stolarz. Hortez had explained before Hen came in that she was as bored by dealing with the human workers as Tawfiq was thirsty for cruelty.
No words were spoken. The Hardit simply stood in front of the lineup, sniffing the scent markers smeared onto the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the humans, and glancing from time to time at the softscreen she was holding.
All of them, Hen included, waited in silence for Number 47, who eventually returned wheeling a catering trolley bearing two metal buckets. One contained stale bread, the other held sc.r.a.ps left behind by the novices from their evening meal.
It wasn't much for 53 people. It wouldn't even feed 10.
Springer cleared her throat. "Mistress, I beg permission to speak."
Hen flicked her ears. Whether that meant interest or anger was something Arun had yet to learn. But when the Hardit walked over to Springer and gave her a sniff, she said in her artificial voice of a human male: "114. A new one. Yes, human, you may speak."
"Forgive my ignorance," said Springer, "but that food is insufficient nutrition for 50 humans, and by adding our mouths to your team, it is even less adequate. I can see that the workers of Auxiliary Team Beta are malnourished. May we please have more food rations so that we may work harder for you?"
Hen closed her eyes but said nothing.
What was Springer playing at? They'd agreed not to wind up the Hardits, to get out of here in one piece. Arun couldn't help admiring Springer, though, even if she was one stupid shunter.
If Tawfiq had been here, Arun had no doubt that she would have activated the pain function in Springer's suit. But Hen Beddes-Stolarz was different. She opened her eyes and waved her ears from side to side in a motion Hortez had told him indicated pleasure.
"You ask a valid question," Hen replied through her voice box, the artificial voice sounding so reasonable. "You argue that we overseers provide ineffective care for our work team. Your reasoning is not at fault, but your error is to start with the a.s.sumption that Work Team Beta consists of 53 individuals."
"Mistress, I do not understand."
"That is obvious, 114. Obvious and to be expected. It is your ignorance and stupidity that makes humans inferior. Team Beta's workforce consists of 22 humans. And yet I see 53 bodies when I include you new ones. What we have here is not an insufficient supply of food but an over-supply of workers. No, that is not quite right. You are suffering from oversupply. Team Beta has work for 22 individuals. We have accommodation and food for 22. The law of supply and demand is universal. Demand is fixed and so eventually supply must reduce to match demand."
"We don't even have food for 22, mistress," said 47 angrily. "Five thugs from Team Gamma Cliffie's team were waiting for me on the way back from the kitchens. They stole four of our food buckets."
"Excellent." Hen wiggled her ears. "Number 47 adds a well-timed additional dimension to this matter. We prefer our work teams to have the strongest individuals. Transferring workers between teams is simple. If you want the food back then prove you are strong enough to deserve it. Steal it back."
Springer didn't hesitate. "Team Beta!" she yelled. "Who's with me?"
To hear such fire in a human belly sent a jolt of surprise shooting through the Aux.
Arun and Madge were by Springer's side in an instant. Hortez hesitated for a moment before joining them.
A flicker of fire lit up the eyes of the other Aux.
"Don't forget, they'll be gone in a week," sneered Number 87 the worker who'd stolen their clothes.
Her words snuffed out the Aux spirit, making them turn their heads and look away.
Hortez whispered into Springer's ear. "You're insane. And I don't mean that in a good way."
Madge ignored him and led the little team out of the room.
The Hardit made no move to stop them. Instead, she called out: "I do so love the spectacle of you humans fighting over sc.r.a.ps of food like flea-ridden, starving animals. Which, of course, is all you are."
The humans marched proudly away until they were out of sight. Then Madge halted.
"First question," she said. "Who the frakk is Cliffie?"
* Chapter 30 *
Arun took point as they stormed into Team Gamma's room. They identified Cliffie immediately. He was fat and clean shaven, the opposite of the males in Team Beta. Their room had the same discarded human clothing, except here the collection was much larger and had been neatly arranged into a crude staircase leading up to a seat. A throne, Arun realized, of tight rolls of clothing bound together by loose fabric strips.
Sitting on his throne was Cliffie.
The Gamma Aux were enjoying their meal. Arun counted eight buckets of food and 35 Aux. Team Beta outnumbered the bullies. It should be them dominating the smaller group, not the other way around!
Arun charged up the textile steps toward Cliffie. Before he reached the throne, Gamma proved their worth, dropping their meals to crowd the invaders. The four Aux who had been eating at Cliffie's feet now formed a protective wall between Arun's group and their leader.
So Cliffie had guards, and his team had discipline and full bellies. None of that was enough to stop Arun feeling this was ridiculous. The enemy was defending the crest of an artificial ridge constructed from dirty shirts and underwear. Insane! But Arun didn't doubt the look in their eyes that said they would defend this position to the death.
Madge had discussed tactics before they moved in. Success, they'd agreed, depended on speed. It was essential they overpowered Cliffie before his team could react.
This wasn't going well.
From the perspective of a full Marine, or even a cadet, the Aux were all failures for one reason or another. But as Arun felt the gaze of angry eyes pierce his body, he was well aware that everyone here was at least partially combat trained.
"We have guests," Cliffie said. He gestured at the crowd to back away. "Give them a little s.p.a.ce to speak their piece."
Arun halted halfway up the steps, just outside of punching range of the guards. It had been Madge's idea for him to take the lead, to brutally pummel Cliffie into submission. She argued that one primal male brute ousting another would make the message clear in this primitive world. But the a.s.sumptions of macho brutishness crumbled in the face of reality. Three of Cliffie's guards were women, and Cliffie himself was clean and groomed, his voice soft and playful.
"Please," said Cliffie to Arun. "Speak."
Arun snarled his reply: "You took food that belonged to Team Beta."
"Yes." There was no malice in Cliffie's voice. He spoke as if explaining a simple truth to a child. "Did you come to inform me of this," he added while Arun was still thinking of a reply, "or did you want to ask me something?"
"Give us our food."
Cliffie tutted. "This is a grim place, to be sure, but there is no need to coa.r.s.en it with rudeness. Do I hear a please?"
"Are you mad? No, you don't get to hear a please. Politeness went out the door when you stole what wasn't yours."
Cliffie scratched his chin, making a play of chewing over Arun's words. "I've heard of you. Here on a forced vacation after making some ill-advised threats. Threats you did not follow up properly. But..." He stretched out his arms in a welcoming gesture. "There is no need for unpleasantness. Let me educate you. You speak of stealing. That is a legal term. The rule of law is very strong in the Auxiliary camps, my new friends, and our law is called Natural Law. Our law says that the strong must take from the weak. Team Gamma is stronger than Team Beta, and that gives us the right to take your food. There is no crime committed here. Permit me, if you will, a demonstration."
He held up one arm and clicked his fingers.
Cliffie's guards dove at Arun.
Arun picked out the one farthest from the wall and leaped at her, plucking her from the air and diving off the steps to the floor. The fall wasn't far but was enough for him to twist in midair so that when they hit the ground, the guard was beneath him and his knees pulled up into her gut, winding her.
He tried to press home his advantage by punching her in the face but one of the guards had grabbed him as he fell, and was now holding back his shoulders.
Arun's punch still thumped into the downed guard's nose, but there was no strength in his blow.
With a supreme effort he got to his feet despite the guard on his back who was throttling him, and the one on the ground grabbing at his legs.
Just as he was preparing to throw back his head to dislodge the guard on his back, the two he'd left behind on the steps fell upon him, dashing him to the ground. Pinned helplessly beneath their weight he could feel the weight of more Gamma Team Aux jump on him, kicking and punching.
Where was his backup? Then he spotted Springer and Madge, already pinned on the ground. Hortez was out of sight.
All he could do now was bring his arms up to offer a little protection for his head.
Arun was dazed. Under the crush of bodies, he was gasping for air. But even in that confused state he knew Gamma was only disabling him. They could easily have killed him but the pummeling stopped without serious damage. Instead, they hooded him, lifted him, and threw him onto one of the lower steps of the ramp of clothing. All the while, they kept enough of a crush of bodies on top that he couldn't scramble free.
He realized with a shiver of humiliation that he'd been hooded by a dirty pair of shorts. More clothing was thrown at him. The huge mound of clothing that Cliffie's throne sat atop was huge, far larger than Team Beta's collection and easily enough to suffocate someone.
Panic injected fresh energy into tired limbs. Arun tried to buck and writhe his way out, but the press was too heavy. He tried to dig out an air pocket but it was too late, the crush too strong. His desperate gasping for air had sucked in the dirty fabric of the shorts pressed into his face. But he didn't care because his head started swimming. His mind was slipping away.
He felt a brief flicker of regret for getting Springer and Madge into this mess and then... And then he was breathing. Through the filter of discarded underwear he was breathing air. The weight from his back was lifting. He managed to raise himself to all fours, to throw off the shorts around his head.
While Arun still knelt there with his head hung low, trying to come to terms with still being alive, he heard Cliffie crowing. "There, you see? A practical lesson in Natural Law. But your team are hungry, you say. We aren't heartless, are we Gamma?"
From around the room, all the Aux replied: "No, Cliffie."
"You, 45, give the pretty one an empty bucket. I want all of you to tear off a hunk of bread a generous one, mind and throw it onto the floor. If our guests want the food, they can pick it up and take it away."
The next few minutes were a nightmare that made Arun shake with shame. Every time they bent over to pick up some bread, they were kicked in the b.u.t.t. So they took to scrambling around the floor on their knees, but Gamma took that as an invitation to ride on their backs, smacking their flanks and b.u.t.ts with cries to giddy up! That brought fresh waves of jeering from the crowd. The need for revenge burned ever hotter in Arun's gut.
They gave Team Gamma spectacular entertainment that night.
Gamma would pay for that!
Once they had put a safe distance from Cliffie's team, they regrouped, the bucket of hard-won bread safely in Arun's hands. Hortez needed a rest. He was so weak he could barely walk.
Arun was fuming, unable to speak because he was too angry at having his a.s.s kicked in every sense.