“That’s what they’re there for,” Mistress Crueltongue spat. “So why are you getting your panties in a twist about a few old males dying in my mines?”
“Mistress Crueltongue,” Mistress Primtoes said, before Lexi could answer. “You are aware that your own admissions before this Council are making you seem quite monstrous, are you not?”
“Monstrous? For wanting to turn a profit and utilizing a cheap source of labor to do so?” Mistress Crueltongue widened her eyes in apparent disbelief. “I’m simply doing what we all do—using bodyslaves to suit my purposes.”
“I don’t know about anyone else here, but I don’t actually kill my bodyslaves for profit,” Mistress Primtoes said icily.
“No, but what do you do with them when you’re finished with them? Dump them on the used bodyslave market, right?” Mistress Crueltongue demanded. “And that’s where I come in—I snap them up at bargain prices and dispose of them for you. Really, I’m doing the entire planet a service.”
“But committing multiple murders a day?” Lexi demanded.
“I…I just sent a bodyslave I’d had for a number of years to the Down Market district last month,” one of the Mistresses of the Sacred Seven murmured. “I liked him well enough, but he was getting older and wasn’t making a good enough showing at parties so I replaced him. But I thought another Mistress—perhaps one who had less money or status and needed a good, dependable bodyslave—would buy him.” She put a hand to her mouth. “I never dreamed I was sending him to his death! Poor old Goldross. Who knew that the Down Market district led straight to the mines!”
“I sent two of my longtime staff to the Down Market district a few months ago,” another of the Sacred Seven murmured. “I thought the same thing—that some other Mistress who had need for them would buy them.”
“And so she did—so I did,” Mistress Crueltongue exclaimed. “Why should that bother you—any of you? Why should any of you care how I run my business as long as I’m not hurting anyone?”
“Not hurting anyone?” Mistress Primtoes rose suddenly to glare at the other woman. “Now listen here, Crueltongue—I don’t think a single woman here knew what you’ve been doing and if we had, I like to think we would have stopped you before now!” She looked at Lexi. “I want to thank you, Mistress Alexa, for bringing this disgusting practice to our attention. The Sacred Seven will take it from here.”
“Thank you.” Lexi bowed her head respectfully and took a step back.
“All those in favor of outlawing the practice of using humanoid labor in hazardous mines, please raise your hands now,” Mistress Primtoes went on.
“You can’t—” Mistress Crueltongue began, but before she could finish her sentence, every hand on the Sacred Seven had gone up.
“A unanimous vote—motion carried,” Mistress Primtoes said briskly. “All in favor of mandating that only artificial life forms like robots can be used in such hazardous activities going forward, please raise your hands.”
Again, every hand was raised.
By this time, Mistress Crueltongue’s face had grown as red as her dress.
“You can’t do this to me!” she raged at Mistress Primtoes. “Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to replace every single worker with a robot? It will completely ruin my profit margin! I’ve already put a down payment on a new luxury space yacht—how am I going to pay it off now?”
“What a shame,” Lexi remarked dryly. “You’ve been murdering thousands of innocent people on a regular basis and now you might not make enough money to buy the fancy new ship you’ve had your eye on? Excuse me if my heart doesn’t exactly bleed with sympathy.”
“You! This is your fault!” Mistress Crueltongue rounded on Lexi, her face a mask of fury. “How dare you come here and interfere with my business? You’re going to be sorry—I promise you that!”
“Excuse me, Mistress Crueltongue, but are you actually threatening another Yonnite Mistress right in front of the Sacred Seven?” Mistress Primtoes demanded. “Let me remind you that causing bodily harm to another Mistress is a crime punishable by death.”
“You don’t frighten me with your stupid laws!” Mistress Crueltongue snapped at the head of the Sacred Seven. “I’ll do what I please! I always have and a lot of stupid old women with fancy titles aren’t going to stop me.”
“Well!” Mistress Primtoes put a hand to her chest, a shocked and offended look coming over her face. But she recovered quickly and glared at the seething Mistress. “All those in favor of censuring Mistress Crueltongue and fining her ten million credits for disrespecting this Council please raise your hands,” she snapped.
Every hand went up.
“Ten million?” Crueltongue demanded. “You can’t do that, you old hag!”
“All in favor of fining Twenty million.” There was a steely glint in Mistress Primtoes’ gray eyes as she spoke. Again, every hand went up.