Free TIME PRIME by H. Beam Piper & John F. Carr

threw a hatchet and killed our master, and then his lady drew a dagger and killed herself.”
    The psychist made a red mark on the card in front of him, and circled the number on the back of the slave’s hand with red indelible crayon.
    Vall and Dalla went to the third table.
    “They had the common weapons of the Croutha, lord, and they also had the weapons of the Wizard Traders. Of these, they carried the long weapons slung across their backs, and the short weapons thrust through their belts.”
    A blue mark on the card; a blue circle on the back of the slave’s hand. They listened to both versions of what had happened at the sack of the Lord Ghromdour’s estate, and the march into the captured city of Jhirda, and the second march into the forest to the camp of the Wizard Traders.
    “The servants of the Wizard Traders did not appear until after the Croutha had gone away; they wore different garb. They wore short jackets, and trousers, and short boots, and they carried small weapons on their belts—”
    “They had whips of great cruelty that burned like fire; we were all lashed with these whips, as you may see, lord—”
    “The Croutha had bound us two and two with neck-yokes; these the servants of the Wizard Traders took off from us, and they chained us together by tens with the chains we still wore when we came to this place—”
    “They killed my child, my little Zhouzha!” the woman with the horribly blistered back was wailing. “They tore her out of my arms, and one of the servants of the Wizard Traders—may Khokhaat devour his soul forever!—dashed out her brains. And when I struggled to save her. I was thrown on the ground and beaten with the fire-whips until I fainted. Then I was dragged into the forest along with the others who were chained with me.” She buried her head in her arms, sobbing bitterly.
    Dalla stepped forward, taking the flashlight from the interrogator with one hand and lifting the woman’s head with the other. She flashed the light quickly in the woman’s eyes.
    “You will grieve no more for your child,” she said. “Already, you are forgetting what happened at the Wizard Traders’ camp, and remembering only that your child is safe from harm. Soon you will remember her only as a dream of the child you hope to have some day.”
    She flashed the light again, then handed it back to the psychist.
    “Now, tell us what happened when you were taken into the forest; what did you see there?”
    The psychist nodded approvingly, made a note on the card, and listened while the woman spoke. She had stopped sobbing, now and her voice was clear and cheerful.
II
    Vall went over to the long table.
    “Those slaves were still shackled with the Wizard Traders’ chains when they were delivered here. Where are the chains?” he asked Skordran Kirv.
    “In the permanent conveyer room,” Skordran Kirv said. “You can look at them there; we didn’t want to bring them in here for fear these poor devils would think we were going to chain them again. They’re very light, very strong; some kind of alloy steel. Files and power saws only polish them; it takes fifteen seconds to cut a link with an atomic torch. One long chain, and short lengths, fifteen inches long, staggered every three feet, with a single hinge-shackle for the ankle. The shackles were riveted with soft wrought-iron rivets, evidently made with some sort of a power riveting-machine. We cut them easily with a cold chisel.”
    “They ought to be sent to Dhergabar Equivalent, Police Terminal, for study of material and workmanship. Now, you mentioned some scheme you had for capturing this conveyer that brings in the slaves for Nebu-hin-Abenoz. What have you in mind?”
    “We still have Coru-hin-Irigod and all his gang under hypno. I’d thought of giving them hypnotic conditioning and sending them back to Careba with orders to put out some kind of signal the next time Nebu-hin-Abenoz starts out on a buying trip. We could have a couple of