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Updated: June 29, 2025
Your people have recorders; are they on?" Hozhet asked Chmidd; Chmidd asked the herald, who asked one of the menials in the rear, who asked somebody else. The reply came back through the same channels; they were. "Very well. At this time tomorrow, we will speak to the Convocation of Lords-Master.
Only the incompetent wait until the last extremity to use force, and by then, it is usually too late to use anything, even prayer. But, at the same time, he was opposed to authoritarianism, except, of course, when necessary for the real good of the people. And he did not like rulers who called themselves Lords-Master. Good democratic rulers called themselves Servants of the People.
"We cannot speak to Lords-Master. We must speak to their chief-slaves." "But they have no slaves," Hozhet objected. "Didn't you hear the ... the one with the small beard ... say so?" "But that's ridiculous, Khreggor. Who does the work, and who tells them what to do? Who told these people to come here?" "Our Emperor sent us. That is his picture, behind me. But we are not his slaves.
An Empire statesman must always guard against sympathizing with local factions and interests, and I can think of no planet on which I could be safer from any such temptation. If these Lords-Master want to vote their throats cut, and the slaves want to re-enslave themselves, they may all do so with my complete blessing."
"There's a delegation here who want to talk to the Lords-Master of the ships on behalf of the Lords-Master of the Convocation. Two of them, with about a dozen portfolio-bearers and note-takers. I'm not too good in Lingua Terra, outside Basic, at best, and their brand is far from that. I gather that they're some kind of civil-servants, personal representatives of the top Lords-Master."
Perhaps they did. It wasn't for love of their Lords-Master; he was sure of that. Even from the beginning, they had found it impossible to disguise their contempt.... Then he saw Olvir Nikkolon stop short and thrust out his arm, pointing directly below the pickup, and as he watched, something green-gray, a remote-control contragravity lorry, came floating into the field of the screen.
Look here; you're not going to work against this, are you? You won't advise these ci-devant Lords-Master to vote against it, when it comes up?" "Certainly not. I think your constitution Khreggor Chmidd's and Tchall Hozhet's, to be exact will be nothing short of a political disaster, but it will insure some political stability, which is all that matters from the Imperial point of view.
Chmidd, could you or Mr. Hozhet tell me what kind of a constitution the Mastership has?" "You mean, like the paper you read in the Convocation?" Hozhet asked. "Oh, there is nothing at all like that. The former Lords-Master simply ruled." No. They reigned. This servile tammanihal another ancient Terran word, of uncertain origin ruled. "Well, how is the Mastership organized, then?"
All the Masters are taught by slaves; the slaves are educated by apprenticeship. The courts are in the hands of slaves; cases are heard by the chief slaves of judges who don't even know where their own courtrooms are; every Master has a team of slave lawyers. Most of the lawsuits are estate-inheritance cases; some of them have been in litigation for generations." "What do the Lords-Master do?"
"Authoritarian," Shatrak said, then mimicked pompously: "'Everybody is commanded to remain calm; the Mastership is taking action. The Convocation of the Lords-Master is in special session; they will decide how to deal with the invaders. The administrators are directed to reassure the supervisors; the overseers will keep the workers at their tasks.
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