Jason climbed wearily to his feet, suddenly exhausted. He was alone with his victim. The cold wind swept about them carrying the rustling grains of sand, chilling the sweat on his body. Sighing once he wiped his bloody hands on the sand and began to strip the corpse. Thick straps held the shell helmet over the dead man's head and when he unknotted them and pulled it away he saw that Ch'aka was well past middle age. There was some gray in his beard, but his scraggly hair was completely gray, his face and balding head pallid white from being concealed under the helmet. It took a long time to get the wrappings and armor off and retie them over himself, but it was finally done. Under the skin and claw wrappings on Ch'aka's feet were Jason's boots, filthy but undamaged, and Jason drew them on happily. When at last, after scouring it out with sand, he had strapped on the helmet, Ch'aka was reborn. The corpse on the sand was just another dead slave. Jason scraped a shallow grave, interred and covered it. Then, slung about with weapons, bags and crossbow, the club in his hand, he stalked back to the waiting slaves. As soon as he appeared they scrambled to their feet and formed a line. Jason saw Ijale looking at him worriedly, trying to discover who had won the battle. [Illustration] "Score one for the visiting team," he called out, and she gave him a small, frightened smile and turned away. "About face all and head back the way we came. There is a new day dawning for you slaves. I know you don't believe this yet, but there are some big changes in store." He whistled while he strolled after the line and chewed happily on the first _krenoj_ that was found. VI That evening they built a fire on the beach and Jason sat with his back to the safety of the sea. He took his helmet off, the thing was giving him a headache, and called Ijale over to him. "I hear Ch'aka. I obey." She ran hurriedly over to him and flopped onto the sand. "I want to talk to you," Jason said. "And my name is Jason, not Ch'aka." "Yes, Ch'aka," she said, darting a quick glance at his exposed face, then turning away. He grumbled and pushed the basket of _krenoj_ over to her. "I can see where it is not going to be an easy thing changing this social setup. Tell me, do you or any of the others ever have any desire to be free?" "What is free?" "Well ... I suppose that answers my question. Free is what you are when you are not a slave, or a slave owner, free to go where you want and do what you want." "I wouldn't like that." She shivered. "Who would take care of me? How could I find any _krenoj_? It takes many people together to find _krenoj_, one alone would starve." "If you are free, you can combine with other free people and look for _krenoj_ together." "That is stupid. Whoever found would eat and not share unless a master made him. I like to eat."