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accent.
    â€œShe did not then know she was a slave,” said a man.
    â€œMany females do not,” said another.
    â€œBut they are of Earth,” said the man with the accent.
    â€œEven so,” said another.
    â€œVery well,” said the man with the accent. “Put them in a cell, cell six, with the others.”
    â€œStand up,” said a man. “Turn about.”
    We stood and turned, and I gasped, for I saw a row of cells, which had been behind us, and, here and there, some small cages or kennels, empty. In some of the cells, I could see some young women. I was very conscious then of the confinement of my wrists, and the heavy metal band locked on my left ankle.
    â€œThis way,” said one of the men.
    At the door of the cell our impediments, the bracelets, were removed, and we were ushered within. The door was then shut behind us, and I turned, and grasped the bars, looking out, across the large, plain room.
    I did not know if we might speak or not. We had not been told.

Chapter Six
    The fellow approached the cell door.
    â€œStep back,” he said.
    There were five in the cell, other than Paula and myself. We were all clothed, to one degree or another. Paula wore a skirt, blouse, and sweater. She had apparently drawn on this attire quickly, in order to hurry to my apartment, in response to my unusual call. It seemed she did not care much how she might look on the street. She had, as I have earlier indicated, little sense of fashion. It is hard to wear a blouse, skirt, and sweater smartly. She had not even used lipstick. Had I responded to such a call, if choosing to do so, I would have done so more particularly. Of the five others in the cell two wore jeans and sweatshirts, perhaps ill at ease with their femininity, or perhaps fearing it, or feeling it appropriate to discount it, or protest it. Their garments would have been more appropriate to adolescent males. Another wore what I supposed might be a maid’s uniform, black with white trim; I wondered from what penthouse or estate she might have been seized or obtained; perhaps her employer had hired a succession of such girls, to be observed, and examined, and, if found satisfactory, to be remanded here; the fourth wore a chic, expensive business jacket, with skirt, rather as I myself commonly wore to work; and the fifth wore the remains of an evening dress. It had been muchly torn from her. My nightgown, I suspect, was more concealing.
    We moved back, toward the rear of the cell and the man unlocked, and opened, the cell door.
    A few yards away, before the cell, facing it, there were four other men, two of whom carried switches, useful in the disciplining of women. The fellow who had opened the cell then joined them, and all were facing us.
    â€œEmerge,” he called, “and form a line, facing us, abreast.”
    We left the cell, and formed the line, as we had been told. I looked about, and could see the elevator door. I did not know how many floors we had descended to reach this level.
    Suddenly one of the girls, she who wore the chic business jacket with skirt, cried out, miserably, ran to the elevator, fumbled about it, and pounded on it, futilely.
    â€œYou lack the key,” called the fellow who had opened the cell door, who seemed to be the leader, or spokesman for the others.
    Then, after a few moments, she put her head against the elevator door, sobbing, and was still.
    â€œThere is no escape,” she was informed. “There are barriers, guards, gates, bars. Outside, there are dogs. The area is remote. You might die at the fence.”
    She turned to regard him, dully, defeated, her cheeks stained.
    â€œYou are a female,” he called to her. “That is the single most important thing about you. From that, all else follows. Return to your place in line, directly and obediently.”
    The girl did so.
    We then stood quietly, uneasily, regarding the fellow.
    â€œYou are before men,” said the