That night I gave her the name "Chloe'. A transformation had soon become visible in her, over the next two or three days, in her entire body and personality. The hardness, the selfishness, the nastiness, the smallness, the pettiness, the meanness which had so characterized her began to melt away. In its place she was becoming soft and feminine, delicate and attentive, eager to please and serve, and loving. At first the warder was much amused by the imperious and uncompromising treatment to which my fair cellmate found herself subjected, taking great pleasure in her fate. Sometimes, in the first day or two, the warder would even watch us, encouraging me and jeering at the helpless, lovely spy. Soon, however, as it became clear that the Lady Claudia was becoming happier, and more fulfilled and more beautiful her attitudes changed, dramatically. The warder now begun to castigate her, and subject her to incredible verbal abuse, of the sort to which free women often subject slave girls. The Lady Claudia, on the other hand, though not even enslaved, did not seem to mind. She was beginning to understand, dimly, it seemed, what the nature of bondage might be for a female. The sterner I was with her the more she seemed to enjoy it. The stricter I was with her the more she loved it. When I would cuff her from me she would crawl back to my feet, kissing them. Treated as a woman, and finding herself in male power, she would look up at me, with love, awe and gratitude in her eyes. I scarcely dared conjecture what her responses might have been, had she known herself truly, helplessly, imbonded. I had little doubt that she would bring an excellent price on the slave block.

"Slut! Slut! Slut!" screamed the warder at her. Her hostility was clearly directed at the Lady Claudia and not me. She could not stand it, it seemed, that the Lady Claudia, almost before her eyes, had become beautiful. I regarded Lady Claudia, the «Chloe» of my uses. She had indeed now become beautiful, wholly and through and through beautiful. She was now very different from her former self. She could not now even dream of betraying Ar's Station, or men. Yet her former self had done so, and her new self, whether in true justice or not, could be held accountable for the action.

"Yes," said Lady Claudia, softly, humbly, then adding, meaningfully, somewhat maliciously perhaps, for she was still a free woman, "a€”Mistress." The warder cried out in fury and smote on the cell door with her small fists. "For what purpose have you interrupted us?" I asked the warder.

"I am not speaking to you," she said.

"But I am speaking to you, female," I said.

The head moved angrily, behind the slot. I wished I could reach the veil and pull it away from her, face-stripping her. I wondered if she would be pleasing. "Do not think that you can escape punishment by pretending to be a slave!" said the warder to Lady Claudia.

"Do not fear, my dear," said Lady Claudia. "I know that I am a legally free woman. I may be in my heart a slave, and I may be kept in this cell, and serve her, as a slave, but I know that I am legally free."

"Do you think the citadel will fall tomorrow," I asked, "or the nest day? And do you still wear artful rags, and go barefoot, and display your calves and ankles?"

Her eyes widened. She realized then I must have spied on her through the slot. I knew these secrets about her, whose import must be clear enough to any strong man. Her small brows knit in fury.

"Do you think you will have an opportunity to surrender to a man?" I asked. "Have you practiced how to tear your robes from your breasts, the words with which you will beg to be spared?"

"Sleen!" said the warder.

"I see that you have," I said, "noble free woman."

"Sleen!" she cried.

"Perhaps you would look well, naked," I said, "in a coffle."

"Sleen! Sleen!" she cried.

Lady Claudia laughed merrily.

"Laugh now!" she said. "But I will tell you why I have come. You, Lady Claudia, traitress and slut, have been sentenced by Aemilianus. Tomorrow, at noon, you are to be displayed above the wall, as an act of defiance, impaled!" Lady Claudia turned white.

"Ad for you," said the warder, addressing me, "I do not know what is to become of you. Aemilianus, for some reason, seems hesitant about you." The observation panel then slid shut, with a snap.

I caught Lady Claudia, that she not fall.

"I am sorry," I said.

"Is impalement swift?" she asked.

"It need not be," I said.

"I cannot move," she said.

I then lifted her and took her back, and put her gently on the straw.

I was not surprised that Aemilianus was less certain what to do with me. My own case, in his mine, must seem somewhat ambiguous. Why, for example, would I not have been dealt with directly in Ar, if they were convinced that I was truly a spy? Too, there was the matter of the documents in the diplomatic pouch. Were they really spurious, and had they really been intended to bring about the surrender of Ar's Station why would they not have been more realistically conceived, that they might have been more likely to achieve such a purpose? For example, why would they not have been in some cipher, one which might, after a reasonable effort, be broken? Too, why would such a purportedly authentic document contain information which must surely, at least to the officers of Ar's Station, seem militarily implausible, if not preposterous, for example, that Ar should have forces in the numbers named in the north, and unengaged! No, Aemilianus, weary and confused as he might be, was no fool. Doubtless he had begun to suspect that the report, though perhaps absurd or false, was authentic. Too, days had passed and the hoped-for relief from Ar, the advance of which he had speculated might have precipitated so desperate and foolish a ruse, had not materialized.

"It is terribly painful, impalement, is it not?" she asked.

"It depends on how it is done," I said.

"I am a traitress," she said.

"Once," I said. "No longer."

"I am afraid," she said. I kissed her, gently. I wished I had something to cover us with. "There is no hope," she whispered.

"There is always hope," I said.

"You are kind," she said.

"Do you wish to be beaten?" I asked.

"No," she smiled.

"There is hope," I said.

"How?" she asked.

"It is quiet outside," I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"You have not now, for some time, heard the crashing of buildings," I said. "Cos has the city now. There is nothing to keep them from undermining the foundations, firing the buildings, clearing paths through debris."

"I do not understand," she said.

"They have finished their work," I said.

"I do not understand," she said.

"The engines are probably in place," I said.

She looked at me, frightened.

"I would expect the attack to begin in the morning," I said.

"I am afraid," she said.

"I will defend you, as I can," I said. "They will have to enter the cell to fetch you out."

"Do not risk your life for me," she said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I am really only a slave girl," she said.

"It is for such that men most cheerfully risk their lives," I said. "Oh?" she smiled.

"Certainly," I said. "You would not expect them to go to all that trouble for a mere free female, would you?"

"Monster," she said.

"And if you save her," I pointed out, "you can often keep her." "I see," she smiled.

"The slave girl, after all," I said, "is good for something. She has her uses. You can even sell her."

She laughed. "Enough free women, too, in their time," she said, "have doubtless been sold."

"Yes," I said. "They can be captured, bound and turned over to a slaver, and such."

"Had you captured me, somewhere, as a free woman, would you have sold me?" she asked.

"I might have kept you that evening in my tent," I said, "to see what you could do."