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They were massed, standing among benches on either side, and if anything Pyairr Ravney had understated their numbers. They all wore black, trimmed with gold; he wondered if the coincidence that these were also the Imperial colors might be useful. Queer garments, tightly fitted tunics at the top which became flowing robes below the waist, deeply scalloped at the edges.
This is only the start of it; there'll be a general massacre of Masters next. I don't doubt it's started already." At another screen, Pyairr Ravney was saying, to the officer of the day of the Palace Guard: "No, there's no telling what they'll do next. Whatever it is, be ready for it ten minutes ago."
I'll bet every slave in the Citadel knows everything that happens in there while it's happening." Shatrak wanted to know if he had done anything about them. Ravney shook his head. "If that's how they want to run a government, that's how they have a right to run it. Commander Douvrin put in a few of our own, a little better camouflaged than theirs." There were more troops on the third stage down.
Beside Shatrak, Erskyll and himself, there were Lanze Degbrend, and Count Erskyll's charge-d'affaires, Sharll Ernanday, and Patrique Morvill and Pyairr Ravney and the naval intelligence officer, Commander Andrey Douvrin. Ordinarily, he deplored serious discussion at meals, but under the circumstances it was unavoidable; nobody could think or talk of anything else.
"Oh, tell them that they have been given their freedom as a special reward for meritorious service, and then sign them up for a five year enlistment." "That might work. Again, it might not." "I think, Colonel, that before you do that, you had better disarm them again. You might possibly have some trouble, otherwise." Ravney looked at him sharply. "They might not want to be free?
"That's what I meant about an oligarchy," he whispered, in Imperial, to Erskyll. "Suppose we tell Ravney to herd these Lords-Master onto a couple of landing-craft and bring them up here?" Shatrak suggested. He made the suggestion in Lingua Terra Basic, and loudly. "I think we can manage without that."
In spite of other urgent calls on his resources, Ravney landed troops to seize these, and a party of engineers followed them down from the Empress Eulalie to make an inspection. At lunch, Count Erskyll was slightly less intransigent on the subject of the wage-employment proposals.
"Well, how about the army, if that's what those people in the long red-brown coats were?" Shatrak changed the subject by asking Ravney. "All slave, of course, officers and all. What will we do about them, sir? I have about three thousand, either confined to their barracks or penned up in the Citadel. I requisitioned food for them, paid for it in chits.
Ravney had been shuttling troops about, dealing with the sporadic outbreaks of disorder here and there: many of these had been put down, and the rest died out after the telecast explaining the situation.
Zhannar insisted that they should be under his Management; when Chmidd and Hozhet supported Khouzhik, he began clamoring for the return of the regular army to his control. Commodore Shatrak was more than glad to get rid of the Adityan army, and so was Pyairr Ravney, who was in immediate command of them. The Adityans didn't care one way or the other.
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