"Come in," said Vince Semper, encouraging the new associate. "I won't bite. What is it?"
Ransom Thomas walked in. He settled gingerly on the leather armchair, not quite leaning back. "It's about the Anderson-Galley case, Sir. I don't understand."
"Anderson-Galley..." Semper pursed his lips, trying to remember. "Oh, you mean Clementine Anderson, formerly Galley. It's very simple. Just hop down to Exodus, hire local counsel, and get the judgment executed."
"I thought it was a parental kidnapping case," Thomas said, sounding confused.
"Well, not exactly. The child went of his own accord, and Galley is anxious to be rid of him. But old Clem wants her arrearage judgment enforced."
"Arrearage, Sir?"
"Child support, for Clyde." Semper leaned back in his chair. "Last time I saw Roden Galley, it was next to sixteen years ago. In 203rd. Contempt action. Sentenced to thirty days in jail. You should have seen the look on his face. He didn't believe it."
"Did he pay then?"
"No. Never paid a penny after that. Next thing I heard, there was some incident at the County jail, and old Galley escaped. Must have hitched a ride on a Starship, and next thing I hear, he's on Exodus, and quite well off. Owns slaves, too."
"And there's an arrearage judgment?"
"Old Clem was never the forgiving type. She wants every new-dollar of it. I suppose to pay her back for putting up with Clyde all these years. Wants him back, too, poor kid."
"I suppose she came out short in the divorce?"
"Not really. Got the house and half the business. That's what made it so hard for Galley right then ..." Semper stared off into space, remembering. "He looked so bewildered, that day ..."
"You got three hundred thousand new-dollars in the divorce. And you mean to tell me you can't afford to pay two thousand a month to your son, for his support."
"Your Honor, that's what you said a year ago when I requested a reduction. So instead of investing the money in the new business, I ended up paying it all to Clementine. And now I drive a cab for a living. I don't make six hundred a month, much less two thousand."
"A man of your ability, whose income was five thousand a month, can find a better job. Have you tried, Mr. Galley?"
Roden smiled. "Yes. I went to interviews. I spent the last six months at interviews. They won't hire me. Your Honor, I've never held a job in my life."
Judge Halter frowned. "You need to become more flexible, Mr. Galley."
Roden looked around the courtroom, at those next on the docket. Painted women, broken men.
"Your Honor," he ventured. "If I had been permitted, I would have used my share of the business to start another. But instead, I couldn't. I wasn't allowed to tighten the belt, to hold down expenditures, because the amount you had me pay Clementine was fixed. So all of that part of my business that I was allowed to keep, I ended up paying to Clementine. At this point, I can support myself, I could probably even support Clyde, if you handed him over to me. What I can't do is pay two thousand new dollars ... to anyone."
"You are now five thousand new-dollars in arrears, Mr. Galley," Judge Halter intoned. "If I give you a two week extension, do you think you could come up with the money?"
Galley shook his head. "No, Your Honor. Not in two weeks and not in two years, at the rate I'm going. If I'm not allowed to put something aside for investment, I'll never have the kind of income that permits the squandering of two thousand a month."
Judge Halter's brows furrowed. Clementine smiled demurely at Vincent Semper, who acknowledged her meaning.
"In that case, there's no point in giving you an extension," the Judge pronounced. "I sentence you to thirty days in the County Jail. Maybe you'll think of a way to come up with the money in there."
Galley was bewildered. He looked around the courtroom again, as though searching for moral support. But they all stared at him blankly. "Have a seat over here, Mr. Galley," the bailiff said quietly.
Clementine held her head up very high, and suppressed a smile. She was getting married within a month. There were many preparations. In the hall, she cooed at her attorney. "Thanks so much, Mr. Semper. I don't know what I'd have done without you."
"My pleasure," said Semper. And when she was out of earshot, he muttered: "I'll bill you.
"But will Exodus accept the arrearage judgment?"
Semper nodded. "Of course, it will, Thomas. Exodus is a member of the Interplanetary Union. Full faith and credit."
Thomas looked doubtful. "That doesn't always work ..."
"It does on Exodus. They're very meticulous. They've been hassled by the anti-slavery movement, and they want to make damned sure that their judgments, no matter what kind of transactions they're based on, are honored on Earth."
"It says here he's got a closely held business - Uranium. One of two major plants on the planet. Is that what you want us to levy against?"
"Does he have anything else?"
"Well, sure, but I don't know how their creditor's rights laws go. Some of it might be exempt."
"We'll consult with local counsel, of course," Semper drawled. "But the way I heard it, nothing is exempt on Exodus."
Thomas leafed through the papers. A smile slowly spread across his face. "Look at this, Mr. Semper. He has two slaves. Just two. And he's registered as being the sire of one of them!"
"Let me see that!"
Hagar Fidel was tall, buxom and wide-eyed. "I love you," she said to Galley.
"I was afraid you were going to say that," he replied.
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to bear your children."
"You can forget about it, Hagar. I'm not going to marry you. I don't fall into the same trap twice."
"You don't have to marry me. Let me live with you. Let me have your baby."
"And risk incurring more child support. Not on your life."
"This isn't Earth, Rod. The laws are different."
"Not that different. Exodus recognizes parental responsibility for the support of freeborn children. I checked."
Hagar pursed her lips. "You mean, if I were a slave, it would be different?"
He nodded absently. "But you're not."
"Do you love me, Rod?"
He looked down at her smiling. "I don't know what that means anymore. I like you, and I want you. I don't want anyone else. I'd install you with me, and let you get pregnant as of often as you liked - if I thought it were safe. I wouldn't mind having a kid or two, I wonder what it's like. I haven't seen Clyde since he was two weeks old. But I'll be damned if I sign my life over to some kid. I'll be damned if I let some court tell me how much money I'm supposed to be making and how I'm supposed to spend it. And don't talk to me about trust. I'm too old for that."
"I trust you," Hagar said softly.
"Perhaps you do," said Galley. "But what have you to lose?"
"My freedom?" She rose up dramatically. "What if I signed my life over to you? What if I became your slave?"
Galley was startled. "Why would you want to do that?"
She shrugged. "It would solve the problem, wouldn't it?"
He nodded, slowly realizing. "You wouldn't be able to take me to the cleaners in a divorce partition. You wouldn't be able to own any property at all. Any time I wanted, I could sell you - or emancipate you, whichever I chose - and be rid of you for good."
She smiled her assent, too starry-eyed to notice the harshness of his words.
In his excitement, Galley began to pace. "And any kid you gave birth to, it would be a slave, too!"
"I think this discovery should be brought to Clementine's attention. See what she wants to do about it," Semper finally said.
"What about the boy?"
"I understand Galley's in the process of shipping him home?"
"Not exactly. He's just not opposing any action we might take to get him back," said Thomas.
"Well, he's not actually dumb enough to harbor a fugitive, is he?"
"No. He admits the boy is with him. Says he has no use for him, and that the child's mother or whatever other authority is welcome to come and drag him off. But he doesn't believe it's his duty to use force against the child. It's all here in the report.
"Sounds like Galley," Semper opined.
The sandy haired youth squinted up at the girl on the swing. "Is this the Galley residence?"
The girl, dark hair flapping in the warm breeze, answered crossly. "Yes. What's it to you?"
"I'm looking for Roden Galley. Is he home?"
"Nope. At the plant. Won't be back till this evening."
"Are you related to him?"
She stopped swinging. Glared at him. "Nice of you to guess. I'm his daughter. Name's Cleopatra. Cleopatra Fidel. But what's more important, I'm something else of his. See?" She extended her arm, revealing a golden bracelet bearing the initials 'R.G.'"
"It's very pretty," said the youth politely.
She laughed. "You must be very new here if you don't know what my pretty bracelet means. What's your name stranger?"
"Clyde."
"Well, Clyde, this is a symbol of bondage. Means I'm Rod Galley's slave."
"But I thought you said you were his daughter ..."
"Am."
Clyde smiled. "Biologically then. But he hasn't made it official, eh?"
"About as official as it can be. It's on my birth certificate. And I'm in his will. In case he should die he wants me emancipated."
Clyde shifted in place. "That's kind of a strange arrangement."
She stamped her foot. "Sometimes, I could just kill him!"
A deep voice sounded behind them. "But you remember, Cleo, I distinctly provided that you be burned at the stake if you murder me. You won't get your emancipation that way."
She turned, unconcerned. "I wasn't thinking about my emancipation, O Lord and Master. I was thinking of the sheer pleasure of the thing."
"You go too far and I'll have you flogged."
She didn't deign to answer. She played with the bauble in her hair, then said: "There's someone here to see you."
"A buyer?"
She reddened.
"She tells me that someday a white knight will come to rescue her and buy her off my hands. He's supposed to make me an offer I cannot refuse."
"Just wait. Jimmy Dock might do it."
"I wouldn't hold my breath, Cleo." He turned to Clyde. "What can I do for you, young man? Are you looking for a job?"
The boy stiffened. "No. I came all the way from Earth. To find my father."
"And how can I help?"
"My father is Roden Galley. You."
"How awful," Clementine said. "I always knew he was depraved." She turned to Semper and rapid-fired her query: "Which of them is worth more?"
"According to our investigator's report," Thomas said, leafing through the file, "Hagar, the mother, is more valuable. The child, Cleopatra, hasn't matured fully yet."
Clementine considered. "If we levy on the child, and it doesn't pay off the debt completely, we can still get the mother, right?"
Semper nodded. "That's right."
"Cleo wasn't always this bitter," Hagar said. "It's only happened recently."
The girl shrugged. "I was little and trusting. They gave me everything I needed. I didn't know what it meant to be a slave."
Clyde shifted his position. "So, what changed?"
"They don't let slaves go to dances, or balls, or even freemen's athletic competitions. And I can't go on dates. Rod offers to let people borrow me, but only creeps want to. They think a slave can't say 'NO.'"
"So I started attending the Abolitionist meetings ... until he forbade it."
"Liberal scum," Rod provided.
"You've got it wrong, Rod," Cleo offered. "They respect the right to property. They think voluntary slavery is okay. And slavery due to bankruptcy. They just don't believe anyone should be born a slave."
"They're merely trying to put the breeders out of business," Rod muttered.
"I think it makes perfect sense," Cleo offered. "If old Hag wanted to give up her freedom because she had some insane infatuation for you, that's fine. But why do I have to suffer?"
"Better you than me," Rod interjected.
"How do you mean that?" Clyde asked.
"When you were born, Clyde, Earth laws rendered me your slave. There was no higher purpose to my life than to earn your child support. And when I couldn't meet the amount they set, they sent me to jail." He turned to Cleo. "I wasn't going to let that happen again."
"So you enslaved your own flesh and blood."
"Stop over-dramatizing, Cleo. I've provided for your every need. I'm giving you the best education money can buy."
"And he will emancipate you as soon as you're of age," Hagar put in.
"The abolitionists say that the stigma of slavery can never be erased. That for a blameless child to suffer the yoke even for one moment has a lasting effect."
"Give me a break, Cleo. You do whatever you want, practically. I was in jail. I was trapped. And you can be sure that it's had its effect."
"That's not the same at all," Cleopatra declared shrugging. "You were a free man in jail. I'm a slave."
"Rubbish." He turned to Clyde. "As for you, I don't make it a practice to harbor fugitives. I'm not going to report your presence here. But I can't allow any contact between us. Come back in two years, maybe we can renew the father-son relationship."
"But I won't be a kid then!" Clyde protested.
"Precisely."
"Who was it again that reported seeing the boy?"
Thomas leafed through the papers. "Roger Unwin, owns the other uranium plant on Exodus. Seems Clyde went to look for a job there, and somehow let it slip that he's Galley's son."
Hagar opened the door. "Clyde!"
"Please let me in, it's an emergency. I've got to talk to Rod."
Galley appeared behind her. She moved aside. "I thought I told you not to come back till you're grown."
"It's about Cleo," the boy breathed. "They've got her. They're going to put her up for auction. It's all my fault!"
"What do you mean?" Hagar asked, alarmed.
"It was at the market square. I saw them take her. They had a court order."
The door bell rang once more. "Roden Galley?"
"That's me."
"Here. This is for you. Your slave, Cleopatra Fidel, has just been attached for payment of an overdue Earth judgment. The auction will be held in two weeks. You have the option of repaying the judgment in full before that date, or bidding at the auction."
Galley stood reading the papers long after the messenger was gone. Then he turned to Clyde. "You're right. It is your fault. It's Clementine's child support, all over again."
Clyde reddened. "It's my fault that they found you. It's not my fault that they want you to pay that money. It's not that I ever saw a penny of any child support she ever was paid. Frankly, didn't see that much of her in the earlier years. She kept me in day care."
"That's why she needed child support," Galley said absently.
"Rod, you can't let them sell Cleo." It was the first time Hagar had spoken since the news arrived.
Galley took her hand. "Nothing's going to happen to her."
"You've got to pay them their money. Don't let them auction her."
"It's not that simple. This is an astronomical amount. I'd have to sell the business to come up with it ... I think I'd rather bid at the auction. It will be cheaper."
"Rod!"
Clyde shifted his position. "Won't you still owe the rest of it?"
Galley grunted. "At least it will give me more time to think of something else."
"You promised ..." Hagar began. "You promised not to sell her. And that you'd emancipate her when she's grown."
"Don't get hysterical, Hagar. I won't let anyone buy her."
Clyde brightened. "Couldn't you emancipate her now, before the auction?"
"No. Not once they've attached her."
The room was stuffy, almost full, and rich with tobacco smoke and mingled mumbles. Cleopatra, scantily clad, and standing on the platform, glared at Galley as he passed. He stopped to look at her. "I'll never forgive you for this. Never," she said.
"Don't be melodramatic. I'll get you back. Nothing's going to happen."
"Something's already happened - this! They're all looking at me. They've been looking at me for two weeks. I'll never live it down." "Chin up. Pretend you're a semifinalist in the Miss Exodus contest."
"You low-life!" she spat out.
He smiled, and turning to Hagar commented quietly: "If she keeps frowning like that we'll get her back easily. No one will bid over five quid." Then he paused. "Are you sure you want her back, darling?"
Hagar looked worried. She didn't answer.
Clyde gestured to them form the fourth row. "I saved you some seats!" he called out.
"Thanks. Haven't you been shipped back to Earth yet?"
"The lawyers have been too busy fussing over Cleo's sale."
Hagar turned to Galley. "Rod, I'm worried ..."
"Be reasonable, Hagar. Look at her. How much could she possibly be worth? Who would want her? I can easily outbid anyone."
The lights were flashed several times, and a tall, red headed man took the gavel in hand. "This is an auction of the slave, Cleopatra Fidel, owned by Roden Galley, on behalf of Clementine Anderson, on a judgment debt of 400,000 new-dollars, or 200,000 Quid. Sale was ordered by the 2nd Judicial District Court of Exodus." He paused. "We start the bidding at one thousand Quid."
There was silence. Hagar nudged him. "Rod!"
"No need to hurry," he said.
"Do I have one thousand quid."
Cleopatra glared. Clyde looked around.
A young man in the front row raised his hand.
"One thousand. Do I have two?"
"Five thousand," called a woman at the back.
Every one turned to look at her. "Helen Timmons of the Abolitionists," Galley muttered.
"I have five thousand. Do I hear six?"
Galley raised his hand.
"Six."
An old bespectacled man at the back rose. "I bid one hundred thousand."
There was a murmur through the room. "Now what the hell ..."
"ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND ..." the auctioneer announced, recovering. "Do I hear higher?" There was silence. "Going once..."
"Rod, do something."
"That's a lot of money."
"Going twice."
"You promised..."
Galley cleared his throat. "One hundred and ten thousand."
"I have one hundred and ten thousand. Do I hear higher."
The bespectacled man at the back spoke up: "One hundred and fifty thousand."
Galley groaned. "One hundred and sixty thousand."
"We have one hundred and sixty thousand. Do I hear higher?"
"Who the hell is that guy?" Galley muttered.
"Going once."
The bespectacled man announced dramatically: "Two hundred and fifty thousand."
The auctioneer beamed. "We have two hundred and fifty thousand." He looked around. "Do I hear higher.? ... Going once ..."
"Rod."
"I can't bid Hagar. I don't think even the business is worth that much."
"Going twice ... Sold to the gentleman in the back. May I have the name of the buyer?"
"Roger Unwin," the man announced.
"I knew I'd seen him before. It's Unwin's accountant."
Hagar stared at him in disbelief. Cleopatra, woodenly composed, was led out. The hall started to clear.
The auctioneer walked toward them. "Mr. Galley, if you'd like to wait, in a few minutes we'll deduct the expenses of the auction, and we can then make out your check. I'd estimate you made twenty thousand quid."
Galley smiled wanly. "Thanks. I'll wait." He turned to Hagar. "Who would believe I made a profit on her? Should have put her up for sale a long time ago, eh."
Hagar was crying. Clyde stood beside her. "Mother was right. You are sick," he said, and stalked out.
Hagar busied herself with a handkerchief. Galley softened. "Look, Hag. I admit, I didn't foresee this. I'm sorry. Unwin was trying to buy me out for a long time. I guess he's finally found the way. I'll get Cleo back, I promise. It'll mean selling the business and everything else. We'll have to start all over."
She didn't answer.
"Here you are, Mrs. Anderson. The amount in full. But we lost Clyde in the process."
"You mean he ran away again?"
"Worse than that. He killed a man and he stole a slave. And he's wanted on Exodus."
She frowned. "I bet he's with Roden."
"I don't think so Ma'am. Mr. Galley is still on Exodus. He now owns both Uranium plants. But he doesn't keep slaves anymore."