land in his name and hers, plus a plot for each of thechildren, and a new mattress as well. Sam was suspicious.
"They're out to get what little we've been able to save, Laurent. Theycan take the land anytime--for what they call a fair price. Fair! Finechance they'll be fair about it."
But Laurent kept the land and was even able to buy a piece for eachgrandchild, although they arrived faster and faster as his own largefamily grew up and married. One day Jean called him to a new house atthe edge of the widely expanded center to see the latest arrival.
Laurent poked a finger at the squalling creature. "So I'm anothergrandpa. Which one this?"
"This time you're a great-grandpa, Frenchy. This is Laurent 4th."
"You mean we gettin' that old? By damn! Well, I'm buy him a piece ofland, too. So much new building, this land be worth plenty when hegrows up."
The 512th amendment permitted slaves to retire at 65. Laurent was aleading real estate dealer by that time. He had twenty-three childrenand more grandchildren than he could count. The center was grown to acity, its main street running through what had been his first farm.Sometimes Laurent relaxed in his rocking chair and needled Sam.
"By gar, Sam, if you not the oldest-looking man of fifty-five I eversee. I think you a hundred years old when you retire. When you havin'that revolution?"
"The day will come if we keep after the young ones. But damn it,Laurent, it's hard to talk any sense into them. Some of them can'teven understand me."
"Well, they all talk galactic, Sam. My grandson, he call himself LoranKotay. But these young people, they have to live their own lives. Hey,look at old Jarth Rolan up there, washing his windows. Old guy shouldretire, Sam. I'm goin' see a couple of my boys give him a hand."
* * * * *
But Jarth Rolan died before he could afford to retire and was replacedby his only grandson, Jarro Kogar. Laurent and Jean passed on shortlyafter, leaving nearly four hundred descendants.
Jarro Kogar was a newly married galactic in his early thirties. Hemoved into the mansion and talked things over with his wife.
"Don't see how we can afford a child right now. Wouldn't be fair tothe child. Things will improve in a few years."
"Of course," she said. "We're young--we'll have time to start ourfamily. If we wait, we'll be able to give them more."
They held similar conversations later and one day realized it was toolate. Jarro Kogar died in his sixties. His widow directed the centerfor several more years. The slaves liked her and took good care ofher. She left them the estate when she died.
Loran Krotalu protested to the authorities that the slaves didn't wantthe estate. But the group heads ruled it legal under amendment 1,486,especially since no relatives could be located.
Loran left the center and moved to another city where he found agalactic couple who wanted a slave. He and his family served thegalactic couple for many years. This couple, like Jarro Kogar and hiswife, were childless and when they both died, Loran and his wife werevery grieved.
After the funeral, Loran went into the city. He returned hours later,tired and depressed.
"It's no use," he told his wife. "There's not an unattached galacticin the area. We might get a few hours work a week with one, but wecan't have one to ourselves."
"But, Loran, _everybody_ in our set works for a galactic!"
"I know," he said miserably. "But it's no use. There must be fiftyslaves for every galactic. I've taken a job at the spaceship factory.It's the best I can do."
* * * * *
Membership on the highest group council had become a killing job.Chief problem was the revision of the slave code, which had 3,697articles. After trying for years to simplify the code, the councilmembers called in Loran Krovalo to fill a vacancy and take over thejob.
Loran was known and liked by galactic and slave alike for hisbrilliant essays on the master-slave relationship. While he was on thecouncil, the Cerberan affair broke out. The Cerberans, an intelligentsaurian race from a globular cluster, exploded into the Galaxy in vastnumbers. Military action became necessary.
"We can handle them," Loran told the council. "Our factories aremobilized and we have any number of spacemen. We have robotinstruments for fighting that are better than anything they have. Wecan carry the war to their home planets."
Some of the galactics objected.
"But the use of robots is forbidden. We can't fight the Cerberans withrobot-controlled weapons."
"Don't worry, sir," Loran said kindly. "We slaves will take care ofit. Our form of religion doesn't prohibit robots unless they are inthe shape of a man. We think of real robots as being human in shape."
One of the galactics rose.
"I know you're right, but my conscience won't let me vote for robotsin any form. Therefore I am resigning from the council."
A second rose, then a third and fourth. They looked at each other, andone spoke for the group.
"We are also resigning. I suggest that four slaves be appointed in ourplaces for the duration of the war. Then they will have a majority andno galactic need violate his conscience by voting for the use ofrobots."
The Cerberans were crushed, but the infested area was huge and theinvasion of the globular cluster took time. The war emergency lastedfifty years. When it was over, the slaves called on the galactics totake back control of the government.
But the widespread use of robot mechanisms in the war had caused areaction among the galactics. Their consciences simmered and a wave oforthodoxy swept over their race. There was difficulty in persuadinggalactics to leave their home planets to sit on the council, becausefaster-than-light ships used robot controls.
The slaves scoured the planet that housed the council and kept two orthree seats filled with galactics for a while. But they were generallyold, and they died, and most of them were unmarried or childless.
* * * * *
Loran Crotay, twelfth-generation slave, sat in his home chatting witha friend from far-off Pornalu VI. Being in the space-shippingbusiness, he had many friends throughout the Galaxy.
His wife answered the door and a pink humanoid shuffled in, mumblinggreetings, and went into the other room. He was middle-aged, studiousand bespectacled, and he wore a wig. Loran's friend watched himcuriously.
"Haven't seen one of them in years, Loran. We have a reservation forthe poor devils on my planet. Don't reproduce very fast, you know, andthey may become extinct. Too bad--they're so likable. Always soethical and conscientious."
"I know." Loran nodded. "We let poor Vendro make a few _dopolins_tutoring our son. He's very intelligent and a good teacher. I like tohelp them all I can--the only ethical thing to do. I wouldn't feellike a slave if I didn't give poor Vendro a break."
"That's true," said his friend. "A slave wouldn't feel right, being amember of the dominant race of the Galaxy, if he didn't help the lessfortunate."
--JOSEPH FARRELL
* * * * *
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