Dragonback 03 Dragon and Slave by Timothy Zahn Page A

out strictly for himself.
    Which made Jack wonder just where the whole idea had come from in
the first place.
    Was Draycos's warrior ethic starting to rub off on him? That was
certainly possible. After two months of hearing about high-minded K'da
ideals, anyone would start believing in them. Or was this coming from
Maerlynn and the way she was always scurrying around helping her
adopted children?
    That was it, he finally decided. Maerlynn. He wasn't really giving
the Klezmer anything for free. All he was doing was passing on the good
deeds he'd already gotten from Maerlynn. It was a back-scratch deal
after all, except that he wasn't paying back Maerlynn directly.
    It made him feel better to think of it that way. Better, and a lot
safer. He wasn't going off the deep end of the pool like some junior
K'da warrior. All he was doing was paying back a debt.
    He probably would have felt even better if he'd really believed
that.
    On the fifth day at work, he found himself so unbelievably grubby
that he finally couldn't stand it anymore. There were a couple of cold
showers in the washroom at the end of his sleeping hut, and that
evening he postponed his bedtime long enough to give himself a quick
rinse. It helped some, but with his clothes still dirty the feeling of
being clean didn't last very long. When he asked Maerlynn about
laundry, she told him the slaves usually waited until Tenthday, when
they were given a day off of work.
    Tenthday, to his annoyance, turned out to be another two days
away. Still, he'd lasted this long. He could certainly hold out until
then.
    It was Ninthday when the routine fell apart.
    He was heading for the line at the tables with his bowlful of
berries when a sudden shadow fell across his face. He looked up to find
Fleck glowering down at him. "Hello, Fleck," he said, making a smooth
sidestep around the big man. "How's tricks?"
    Fleck's own sidestep wasn't nearly as smooth as Jack's. But it did
the job just fine, planting him squarely in front of Jack again. "You
got too many," he said.
    "I've got too many what?" Jack asked. He was tired and hungry, and
not in a mood for games.
    "What do you think?" Fleck growled, jabbing a finger at Jack's
chest. "Berries. You got too many berries."
    Jack looked down into his bowl with astonishment. "What in the
world are you talking about?"
    "You're only supposed to fill to the line," Fleck said. "Not all
the way to the top. What, you think the Brummgas are going to give you
a bonus?"
    "What, you don't like a kid my age doing better than the rest of
you?" Jack shot back. Without waiting for an answer, he started to walk
away.
    Fleck's rough hand on his arm made it clear the conversation
wasn't over. "I'll tell you what I don't like, kiddy-face," he said. "I
don't like you poking your stick into the bug hill. If you keep showing
the Brummgas you can pick more berries in a day, they'll make everyone pick that many."
    It was, Jack realized later, a perfectly reasonable argument. He
certainly wasn't interested in giving the Brummgas ideas for working
their slaves any harder than they already were. And if Fleck had just
given him a minute to think it through, everything would have been fine.
    Unfortunately, Fleck didn't. "So you stop now," he insisted.
    And reaching into Jack's bowl, he scooped out a handful of berries.
    "Hey!" Jack snapped. He grabbed the other's wrist and shoved it
away, then jumped back, trying to get out of reach.
    Once again, the big man showed he was faster than he looked. He
took a long step forward, slapped Jack's hand aside, and grabbed the
strap that held the bowl around his neck. With a tug that seemed to
snap Jack's head back against his shoulders, he yanked the boy toward
him. "You don't do that," he said, very quietly, from three inches
away. His breath smelled like stale nutrient broth. "Not to me. Not
ever."
    Jack stared straight into that ugly face. There was a punch Uncle
Virgil had taught him, he remembered, a punch he'd guaranteed