Bound in Chain, Part 1

Bound in Chains is from the perspective that we haven’t had quite yet in my blog.  A slave who is serving the Nobles and Citizens.  Someone not well regarded enough to be a member of society.  Also happy Thanksgiving or happy Thursday depending on your location.

Neela foot scraped against the ground. She walked in a long chain of her fellow Alaget. The rough shapeless sack matched all the one around her. She used her good hand to force the loose tendrils away from her face. In heart of hearts she hoped to avoid this. A day ago she had stood before the slavery board to beg to be free.

The seven council members sat around a half circle table. All of them with the crystal fine features, which marked heavy genetic tinkering of a noble. The head of the council a round faced woman with russet hair and brown eyes. High Lady Cirl was her name. “I’m sorry Mistress Neela Giy, but there is no way we can reverse the ruling.”

“But, my mental score is nine. That is way over what one would consider a slave.” The bitterness of that never left Neela’s heart. Four points above a slave rating. Her intelligence was almost the same rating a minor noble.

High Lady Cirl shifted uncomfortably. “I realize. If your intelligence had been a ten we would have gladly looked over your physical, and constitutional scores. But, they are very low.”

Neela had looked at herself before. On leg warped and shorter the other, her face lumpy on one side, and arm so shrivelled she didn’t truly have a hand. To make matters worse her heart had too few valves, and her lungs too small. Sickly and misshaped made her a one in both of the other scores. “What use can I even be as a slave? I can’t do hard larbor.”

“Yes, that’s why I insisted we add an addendum to your slave documents. You won’t be used for anything rough. And, you’ll receive training in an intellectually stimulating professional. It won’t add to your debt, or be taken out of your wages. And, you’ll be provided with medications, proper room, and won’t be overworked.” High Lady Cirl sat up straight. “Anyone failing to comply will result in earning my attention, and annoyance.”

As mild as that sounded Neela knew it was a threat. First Chair, or head councilor of the Slavery Protection Board was a dangerous political opponent. “There is no agreement I may free myself in the standard time, then?”

Second chair cleared his throat, and shot a glance at High Lady Cirl before speaking. “No, your scores are simply too low. There is no chance we would allow you to go free. And, you won’t be allowed to breed. After you are purchased you are to render infertile.”

Neela mouth dropped open. Never before had she heard of such a strict reaction. Were her physical ailments so horrible? “And, what profession will you recommend for my owner?” A wince at her tone. As far as they were concerned she was a slave. Slaves needed to be respectful.

High Lady Cirl let the tone pass unmarked upon. “A doctor, you already have more empathy than most of those we train. And, there is technology to assist with you being one handed. A surgeon most likely not, but for every day concerns, and less vital problems you would work. Besides, replacement limb research is going well, perhaps one day you shall have a hand.”

Small comfort that. “Well, I suppose I should go say goodbye to family then. Since, you’ve decided.” Neela couldn’t believe this.

“Perhaps, it was wrong for your family to care for you, Mistress. Most slaves ranked people who have families never meet them. Unless, their family buys them.” High Lady Cirl waved her hands. “A kindness, unfair as it may have been.”

Having nothing to say to that statement, Neela had walked out of the conference room. Her parents waited with her older brother. They all shared the same honey blonde hair, and solemn gray eyes. A rarity in a citizen who almost uniformly were brown of hair, eye, and skin. “It failed.”

Her parents didn’t say anything except envelop her in a hug. Pata, her brother, snarled. “This is wrong. I’m a noble.” Not fully true, he had the rank, but not the genes. A minor noble, and probably would end up serving in another noble’s business as a reliable flunky at best. Neela often thought her brother over estimated how powerful his ranking of ten point two really made him. “I’ll buy you.”

Neela sighed. “They’re going to make me a doctor. That’s an expensive slave. I doubt you’ll be able to afford me.”

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