Free A Bait of Dreams by Jo Clayton

lower notes. At times his mouth moved but no sound came out. The guard answered with a brief burst of the same sort of sound. Then the Elder turned his large round eyes on the captives. “I am Keeper. Who of you iss masster?” He spoke parsi with a strong hissing accent and an occasional hesitation as he searched for a word.
    â€œMe.” Captain Korl took a step forward, stopping abruptly when a guard hissed and jabbed at him with the crooked rod. He was big, looked powerful, but his belly strained the seams of his tunic and bulged over his wide leather belt. His elaborately ringletted black hair was streaked with gray as was his bushy beard and moustache. His face was seamed and craggy, a ruin of power.
    â€œI’m my own man.” Shounach stepped apart from the sailors, ignoring Korl’s malevolent scowl.
    â€œI also. I speak for myself,” Gleia said hastily. She moved as far as she could from the sullen crewmen.
    The Keeper exchanged a rapid set of questions and answers with the guard, then turned back. His eyes flitted over the line and stopped on Shounach. “That seemss reassonable. Kneel now. All of you.”
    Gleia hesitated. Shounach’s hand came down hard on her shoulder, pushing her down with him as he knelt. She smoothed out a wrinkle under her knee and waited, wondering what was coming. Without warning, one of the sailors jumped up and ran cursing at the Keeper. A guard flipped up his rod. The other sailors scrambled desperately away from the berserker as a cone of light licked out from the rod. He was silhouetted like a black doll against the crimson light then was gone, wiped away.
    â€œIt iss to be hoped the resst of you will not be sstupid.” The Keeper picked up a dull gray metal ring. At one side it had two trapezoidal lumps. He let the ring dangle from one small hand. “You are now.…” He hesitated, looked down at the ring then back at them. His tail began jerking back and forth, the naked tip moving like a pinkish metronome behind his head. “You are now slaves. The people of shipThelar …” His mouth tightened and his face was suddenly bleak. “We are here very much against our will and our desiress, but here we are and here we musst sstay.” He spoke slowly, the tips of his ears twitching slightly, the tip of his tail slowing and moving in a small circle. His hissing accent began to diminish until his sibilants were barely noticeable. “We must build our lives here and build them quickly. You will help make these houses liveable for us. The guards will move behind you and place these rings about your necks. Anyone causing trouble will be removed immediately. By removed, I mean what you have just seen. We have neither time nor inclination to tolerate fools.”
    Two of the guards slipped medallion chains up over their heads and dropped them onto the table; then they put the rings about each neck. The locks snapped home with small sharp clicks. A third guard circled wide around them and stopped about a body-length behind them. The ringers picked up their medallions, put them back on, then stood beside the Keeper.
    â€œYou may sstand.” The Keeper sounded tired as if he had spent too many days in a battle where even the winners lose. The pale tufts on his ear points twitched as he folded small fine hands on the table in front of him. “For honorss’ ssake I sspeak.” His large eyes closed for a moment then opened again, sinking back into the loose folds of grayish skin that pleated around them. “We are free traders whose ship was our life. That is over. Yet we still exist, and existing, must adapt. We are under pressure of time and need and must do things … things we find abhorrent.” His eyes moved slowly along the line of men, stopped at Gleia. He examined her then seemed to shift uneasily in his chair. Then he faced Shounach; his pale tongue touched lightly at thin lips and the tail tip behind