The gown was made of glowbug silk, which meant it cast a subtle light of its own. It showed up nicely in the large living area where the Sacred Seven were meeting, since the shades were drawn for privacy.
The members of the council were sitting on an extra-long, overstuffed couch covered in purple and white j’an’tury suede and all of them were looking at her expectantly.
Well, here goes, Lexi told herself, and launched into her speech.
“Mistresses of the Sacred Seven, I know that you are newly elected to your posts and all of you have a reputation for being fair minded and kind, so I lay this case before you,” she began. “Every day here in Opulex, innocent lives are taken. Sentient beings are sent to their death and the ruling body of Yonnie Six is doing nothing about it—I hope because they are not aware of what is happening.”
She saw several members of the Sacred Seven frown and shift in their seats but no one stopped her, so she went on. Lifting her chin, she told them about the Death Mines and the way worn out bodyslaves who were sent to the bargain slave markets, were sold as fodder for the mines. She also explained the other things she’d learned through her research—and the help of a private investigation firm she had used to get the inside scoop on Mistress Crueltongue’s operations.
“Once taken to these mines, the males in question are given barely anything to eat,” she continued. “Because the owner of the mines is well aware that they won’t live long inhaling the poisonous fumes, so feeding them is considered counterproductive to profits. Likewise they are given no clothing or protective gear to wear and no place to sleep. They are expected to lie down in the dirt where they are mining every night, long after dark and long before dawn they are woken again to do more backbreaking labor. Eventually, their lungs collapse from the assault of the Diluthian fumes and they die—hungry, naked, and in agonizing pain—only to be replaced the very next hour by another poor soul who has been bought at a bargain price to continue mining Diluthian. This cycle repeats itself over and over and over again and it needs to stop.”
Lexi paused for a moment to take a breath. It was impossible to say if the graphic picture she was painting was having any effect on the Sacred Seven at all. Many of them had gotten multiple micro-facial surgeries like Mistress Pricklethorn, so it was very difficult to read their faces. However, she had stated her case and there was only one more thing she could say.
“I know most Yonnites don’t care about what happens to bodyslaves when they are cast aside, but think of how it makes Yonnie Six look to the sentient people on other planets,” she told them urgently. “It makes us appear cruel and heartless—downright murderous. Especially when the Diluthian could be mined by robots much more effectively without any loss of life.”
“But it could not be mined more cheaply!” a new voice said.
Turning her head, Lexi saw Mistress Crueltongue striding into the room. She was wearing her signature crimson in a sweeping red gown that covered every part of her but her breasts and crotch, which were bare. Behind her was the blank faced bodyslave she had called Karnivore.
Lexi kept a wary eye on the bodyslave but he simply came to a stop behind his Mistress as she swept up to the long purple and white couch the Sacred Seven were sitting on.
“Mistress Crueltongue, what are you doing here? I do not recall that any of the Sacred Seven has extended you an invitation to our meeting,” Mistress Primtoes said, frowning.
“I’m here because it’s my livelihood you’re discussing. These are my Diluthian mines this sniveling little excuse for a Mistress is talking about!” Mistress Crueltongue exclaimed. She glared at Lexi. “She’s been trying to shut me down from the minute she came into town, but she hasn’t succeeded yet and she won’t succeed now!”
“Mistress Crueltongue—” the head of the Sacred Seven started to say, but the other Mistress clearly wasn’t interested in listening—only in talking.
“Yes, I buy cheap bodyslaves and work them to death in my mines—what of it?” she demanded, glaring at all the Mistresses in turn. “We need Diluthian to purify our Dream Gas and which one of you hasn’t used Dream Gas?”
“You could get the same amount of Diluthian and more if you just used robots to mine it!” Lexi shot back.
“Why should I?” Mistress Crueltongue demanded. “That would lower my profit margin. Do you know how much a mining robot costs? It’s much cheaper to buy broken down bodyslaves and use them instead.”
“So you don’t care at all that you’re murdering thousands of people?” Lexi raised her eyebrows in disbelief that the other woman could be so blatant. “You don’t care at all that they die in agony, starving and miserable and broken, their lungs rotting and collapsing from breathing poisonous fumes?”