The Misfits meet System-san

Cassy and Drayden:

“Thank God, no one around - Oh shit, what is that?" said Cassy.

That, was the dead body of one of the slaves. She had been stripped of everything, including her tunic, and sprawled on the ground. They could see her back.

"I hate those slave collars," said Cassy.

"Yeah, more whip scars. Surely it would make more sense to treat your slaves decently? They would then be able to do so much more for their owners." said Drayden.

"I don't know. Wait a minute, there's no slave collar," said Cassy.

"You're right. They must have taken it." said Drayden, "Anyway, we had better go. And we need to keep a close watch ahead. And, I suppose, behind, also. Remember, their pursuers may or may not be on our trail."

With their backpacks bouncing around, they started jogging. Due to their system-enhanced strength and endurance, it was easy for them to cover a hundred kilometres a day, especially considering the way was dead flat, open, and without obstructions.

Actually, not quite.

"Hey, Drayden, isn't this place supposed to be completely free of everything?"

"Well, I would have thought so; after all, we are fifty kilometres above ground, but if you think about it, those staircases provide easy access. At least, it's easy if you have enhanced strength. So, I suppose it's not all that surprising to find litter all over the place."

Every kilometre or so was another pile of junk. Not having anything better to do, they briefly checked out some of these piles.

"Ug, another dead body. It looks like it has been here for years if not decades. Fully dressed and no slave collar, but," said Cassy.

"And this is another mummified pile of faeces. In fact, why isn't the whole surface covered in shit," said Drayden, "Since, according to our calendar, there are at least 3000 years of history. And probably a whole lot more."

"I suppose everything will decay if given enough time. And there is always a light breeze up here, so it will eventually be blown off."

They kept jogging. By the end of the first day, they reached the location where the ocean lake came right up to the wall. A little before the sun faded, they leant on the rail and looked at the scenery.

"Yep, maybe a hundred kilometres of water, right up to the wall. And, looking further out, the shore on the other side appears to be quite a cliff face," said Cassy.

"So, even if we had a boat, we couldn't get on the far shore. Say, look, another hundred meters on, there's a hole in the Rimwall top!" said Drayden.

He jogged over.

"Sure is; it's another stairwell."

He looked around.

"Which explains where there is more than the usual amount of rubbish around."

To be on the safe side, they moved another couple of kilometres and settled for the night.

"Umm, Drayden, are we just going to leave our shit lying around, also?"

"Ukk. I know, let's, err, shit onto our shovels, then toss it over the side. Actually, toss the shovel itself over. Since it will disappear when it gets more than four or so metres from us."

Feeling virtuous for not adding even more litter to the top, they moved to the outside of the Rimwall top, cuddled up and slept. Of course, they also had sex, but that goes without saying.

Midday the next day.

They were halfway across the ocean span when they came across a discarded item bigger than usual. One of the sedan chairs. Next to it, collapsed onto the ground, were the bodies of two of the slaves, a boy and a girl.

"Notice that all three slaves have been youngish teenagers?" said Cassy.

Drayden, holding his lips in a thin line, agreed.

But this time, they left behind a lot of junk. The slaves were still clothed but without slave collars, and the sedan chair had a whole collection of junk stuff.

"Hey, look, there is a cooking pot! And, another water container, except this one is made of copper?" said Drayden.

"Are we going to ransack through somebody's discarded property?" said Cassy.

"We certainly are!"

They ended up with one medium-sized cooking pot, one ten-litre copper water container, and a jackpot: a nicely wrapped parcel of some sort of thick bread. They found this hiding under the sedan chair.

"It's not bad. It's a bit chewy, but considering it's a long time since we last tasted bread, it's real good!" said Cassy.

"You realise we are enjoying ourselves, and a hundred metres away are two dead bodies?" said Drayden.

"I know. But we have to adapt."

They kept going. But only for another five kilometres.

"Two more of the young slaves from that party, left for dead," said Cassy.

They were standing close, but not too close, to the dead bodies. The bodies were clothed, although the quality of the cloth and the stitching was crude. There were also two backpacks plus an assortment of stuff.

"One comb, which we don't need. A change of clothes - say, should we take them? The slave's clothes may be cheap, but it's streets ahead compared to ours." said Drayden.

"No, definitely not. Wearing someone else's clothes without washing them is just too creepy. Besides which, maybe these are standard slave's apparel?"

"That would be a bit of a bother, then. Hello, there's a hand mirror," said Drayden.

"Gimme!" Cassy snatched it from his hands and set to admiring herself, particularly her hair, in the mirror.

"Yes! My hair does look wonderful! And it doesn't appear my face has suffered from living without makeup."

She put it into her backpack, then looked at the slaves and became sad again.

Drayden finished his inspection, "There doesn't appear to be any more food, nor anything of interest to us."

“They died a long way from any home they might have had, unknown, unloved, just discarded like rubbish when they could no longer be of any use,” said Cassy.

"Err, Drayden."

"Yes?"

"I think we should examine their faces and maybe their bodies to try and work out exactly what they died from."

"Do we have to?"

"I think so. Trying to understand their last days is the least we can do for them. We are probably the only people on this Ringworld who feel the least bit sorry for them."

"I guess so."

They started with the young teenage boy lying on his back, sightless eyes forever gazing upwards without blinking.

Cassy slowly extended her hand and touched the boy's forehead.

Ding! [Forensic Pathology] added with an initial 25 points.

"Bloody hell, this is incredible; it's as if someone had flicked a switch inside my memory, and suddenly, all sorts of information that I would have ignored beforehand becomes significant,” said Cassy.

Drayden knelt on the other side.

"Look at the crease lines on his brow. And around his mouth and cheeks. He spent a lot of time suffering, both emotionally and physically." said Drayden.

"And see how his cheeks are hollow?" said Cassy, "Not to mention, his teeth are terrible."

She was bold enough to tear the tunic, exposing his stomach.

"Yeah, definitely malnourished. Both acute and chronic," she said.

Drayden looked at the boy's hands, "Callouses, poorly healed tears and bruises, both old and recent. He spent much of his time picking up and carrying objects too heavy for him."

They carefully rolled the body over. And they spent some time thinking about what was now visible.

"Scars from whippings. And, that must be bruising, and that indicates a broken rib, probably not properly set nor healed," said Drayden.

The body was not wearing shoes.

"Yeah, he spent most of his time barefoot. There's quite a bit of damage," said Cassy.

They sat back and tried to work out what the boy's story might have been.

"He was physically abused, regularly worked to exhaustion, didn't have enough food, and never felt comfortable or at ease," said Cassy.

"Also, he didn't have any high strength or regeneration abilities; otherwise, he wouldn't look so damaged and worn out."

"This is interesting; note how there are no signs of any callouses or marks around his neck. I would have thought that wearing that horrible thing would have left some evidence, just like my mum wearing her wedding ring had left a clearly defined reddish mark around her finger."

Ding! A slave collar continually and automatically adjusts its length to suit the slave. Since, after all, they can be put on at age three. So, it is never tight enough to leave a mark. But, also, it is never loose enough to allow it to be removed. And, remember, if a collar is removed from a living slave, the slave will promptly die.

"This is depressing," said Drayden, "Also, the body’s overall state indicates that it has been here for about a week or so."

Cassy had an idea.

'[Inspect]'

Ding! You already have the right idea. Sadly, your security access level will be exceeded if you obtain any more information from Inspect.

"It was worth a try."

"We keep going?" said Cassy.

"Yes. But we need to be extra careful. There is probably a full-scale disaster somewhere up ahead."