A sniveling slave on Rod’s left stopped to watch them. A guard turned and raised his weapon suggestively. The sniveler bent to his digging with renewed vigor.
When the tetrarchs had gone another slave slipped in to take the place left vacant by the dead man.
Rod winced in the act of lifting his pick. The gash he had taken in his arm before he was captured on Earth was far from healed. He saw then that the new slave was a woman. She was young and slender. Her hair was glowing gold in the dim lit tunnel. Under her broad forehead her eyes were an unfathomable grey.
“Mona Darlanan!” he breathed in wonderment.
Even in the mines—in the serfdom of Tetrarch—her beauty caught him. This was the girl who would always make him uncomfortable ... as it had back in the old days—when Earth was free. She had gone on the stage. He had buried himself in a science laboratory. They had lost touch. When the tetrarchs overran Earth he had lost all knowledge of her. Besides, he had been busy ... busy on the most important project of Earth’s Thirtieth Century A.D.
“How long have you been here?” he asked. He felt awkward. This was not the way he had pictured their meeting.
“I’ve been in the mines longer than you have.” Her face was quiet, almost submissive. “Don’t talk, or the guards will be back. Besides, I want to change places with you.”
“Why? Does it make any difference?”
“Yes.” She brushed him aside impatiently and turned to the sniveling youth at his side.
“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.