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.He had an aide with him.The man looked at my left breast, reading the characters written there. Four-zero-seven-three, he said.He was then handed a collar, the next in aseries of diminishing rows. Name? he asked. Tiffany, if it pleases Master, I said. Can you read? he asked. No, Master, I said.He then showed me the collar, indicating the engraving on it. This is acompany collar, he said. It says, I belong to Mintar of Ar.I work in Mill7.My number is four-zero-seven-three. Yes, Master, I said.The collars would die then, only in the Girl Numbers. Lift your chin, Tiffany, he said.I did so, and the collar was placed about my neck and snapped shut.The firstcollar I had worn had been a color-coded transfer collar, put on me at theholding area outside the gate, probably primarily to comply with the ordinancethat female slaves in Ar must wear a visible token of their bondage; otherwisewe might simply have had our destinations written on our bodies.This was myfirst owner collar.The laws of Ar, incidentally, do not require a similar visible token ofbondage on the bodies of male slaves, or even any distinctive type ofgarments.The historical explanation of this is that it was originally intended to makeit difficult for male slaves to make contact with one another and to keep themfrom understanding how numerous they might be.On the other hand, male slavesare not numerous, at least within the cities, as opposed to the great farms orthe quarries, and they are, in fact, usually collared.Some, however,depending on the whim of the master or mistress, may wear a distinctive ankletor bracelet.Aconsequence of this ordinance from the point of view of a female slave is thatPage 152 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlshe cannot now even permit herself to be taken for a free woman by accident;her bondage is always manifest; it is helpful from the man s point of view,too;he always knows the status of the woman to whom he is relating; one relates tofree women and slaves quite differently, or course; one treats a free womanwith honor and respect; one treats a slave, commonly, with condescension andauthority. Kneel and kiss the whip of Mintar, he said.He took a Whip from the tableand held it before me. Again and again, he said, tenderly, lingeringly. I did so.I trembled, thrilled, forced to kiss a man s whip, and in theintimate manner of a slave.I supposed that I would never see the man whosewhip I was kissing. what is your name? he asked. Tiffany, I said. In what mill do you work? Mill 7. What is your girl number? 4073, I said. Whose collar do you wear? The collar of Mintar of Ar. Who owns you? Mintar of Ar. Who do you love? Mintar of Ar. Welcome to Mill 7, Tiffany, he said. Thank you, Master, I said.He then replaced the whip on the table and handed me, from a basket, twotunics.They were folded, and washed, and brown. Thank you, Master, Isaid.I held them close to me.I would later discover that they were rathercommon slave tunics, brief, with no nether closure.Too, they were sleeveless,slit at the sides, and with a plunging neckline.Oil the front of the leftshoulder there was a design, in white and yellow, bearing what I would laterlearn was an inscribed Mu. This was a design, I would later learn, which wascommon tomany of the different enterprises of Mintar. Mu is the first letter of thenameMintar.White and yellow, or white and gold, are the colors of the merchants.The tunic had nothing specific to the mills, of Mill 7.Such a tunic mighthave been worn by girls laboring or serving in almost any of his holdings.Itwas thus, in a broad sense, a company tunic.I wondered how many girls Mintarowned, or were owned by the enterprises of Mintar. Go now, over there, he said, pointing, and get in that line, where you seethat small yellow flag.You wrn be in the chain of Borkon.He will be yourwhip master. Yes, Master, I said.Borkon, I realized, whoever he was, was he whom Imust now strive to please. Is that all, Master? Yes, he said. Did you expect to be intricately measured, to be toe-printed, and such? You are not a high slave.You are a low slave, a millgirl. Yes, Master, I said. Forgive me, Master. I then leapt up and ran to standin the indicated line.In a few Ehn I was joined there by Emily and Luta.The other girls were being sent to other lines
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