DATE: July 11, 2001 CAST: Basil and Percy. Woodpile Clearing The forest of grass and clover dwindles until it's little more than a sickly bit of fringe surrounding a wide, harsh clearing. Situated in the dead center are blocks of rotting wood, stacked together in a precarious heap. This pile establishes a vast structure, serving as a home to a large population of insects organized into two distinct classes: the masters, and the slaves. As if to underline the austerity of this location, the rusted blade of a human's ax is wedged deeply into one of the upper logs. Its long handle points toward the sky in a diagonal line, fixed and unmoving. Winding away from the clearing is a wide path, curving into a sparse collection of cans and jars. It's been a very long ride from Ant Island, even for a pair of strong millipedes drawing a wagon full of enslaved ants. Percy mutters something unflattering about ants for the umpteenth time as he cracks his whip at the beasts pulling them along; thanks to one late delivery, he's short on time. Especially now that he has to go around Bug City, now that the mayor is starting to crack down on slave trade. Most of the ants inside the wagon just sit in silence, dimly resigned to their fate. Basil looks forlornly at the floor of the wagon, his side still aching from being struck. However, the pain is only a mild distraction as he's emotionally consumed by what Holly has done to him. "How could she have done that to me. I thought I meant something to her." Basil barely lifts his head to let out a angst ridden sigh. "She was right though. I should have never gotten emotionally involved. Now that I've lost everything that ever meant something..." He become lost in thought again. As the cardboard wagon bounces along the ill-kept road, a few ants barely acknowledge Basil with pitying looks, but that's about the extent of it. Each one feels very sorry for him or herself in particular. Suddenly the wagon comes to a shuddering stop. "Finally," Percy mutters. "The woodpile." The wagon comes to a halt, causing the occupants to shift forward, Basil doing likewise. He looks around the room at the saddened, and vacant expressions of each one in sight. He says nothing, but a sinking feeling quickly overcomes him. He had no way of knowing which way the wagon came, and has no indication of the direction of home. He wonders inwardly what is to become of his life. Percy hops off his perch on the wagon, closely followed by his assistant -- the yellow-eyed fly. At length, the door of the wagon flies open, revealing a clearing at the foot of a large pile of wood. Percy motions at the ants inside. "All right... all of you get out now and stand in line. And be quick about it!" Basil looks up again as he watches the others exit the wagon, but does not get up to do likewise, at least at first. His mind is still in a daze. He can't believe the events of the last day. "How could she do such a thing," is the only thought plaguing his troubled mind. He simply stares at the wall of the wagon, not making another motion, until at least the final occupant leaves, and then begins to stand up himself. Percy eyes each ant harshly as they exit the wagon and stand in line, a show of robotic obedience. His eyes flick back to the wagon's interior, and fall to regard the last one left: Basil. "Hey!" the stink bug growls. "That does it..." he stalks inside, his footsteps thudding against the cardboard as he approaches the remaining ant, a menacing glare on his flinty visage. Basil is still rather distracted as he hears heavy footfall approach. His eyes open widely as he notices the menacing individual advance on him quickly. He swallows hard. "Oh, shoot!" exits a mild oath, as he realizes the mistake he's made. "I... I... I..." he can hardly speak the words in his whirling mind. "I'm I'm I'm...." That's all that seems to register in his chaotic state of confusion. Nothing more. Except a near violent trembling. Even if Basil were able to come up with an articulate response, Percy still wouldn't be in any mood to listen. The stink bug continues, leaning over in an attempt to yank the ant by the arm and roughly toss him out of the wagon. Feeling his arm jerked up, followed by his entire form, Basil finds himself now in a near /physical/ whirling as he is pulled off of his feet and thrown from the wagon in a painfully jerking motion. His next sensation, is one of excruciating pain as he makes contact with the ground, nearly knocking all of the wind out of him. Basil then feels a searing pain work its way thought his shoulder that makes first contact with the dirt. He flops over a couple of times in a most unpleasant way and finally rolls to a stop some distance away, weakly attempting to regain his breath. The ants stare in wide-eyed fear as Basil flies out of the wagon and meets the ground, up close and personal. A few tremble, draw in a sharp breath, but none venture to flee or help the injured ant up. Percy steps out of the wagon, glaring coldly at Basil. "All right, ants... take a good, long look at this one." He lashes a foot at, aiming to kick the fallen ant in the side. "If you back-talk or don't follow orders, you will be punished. If your master tells you to do something, you do it immediately! You do that, and you *might* survive." Basil looks over to the other ants as he hears their loud exhales, but his attention is quickly taken away toward the bellowing exclamation of Percy as he /councils/ them. He is delivered a strong, painful kick in the side, causing him to roll over a couple more times and coming to a violent stop against part of a broken bottle, leaving a slight, but mostly harmless cut under his right eye. He then hears Percy's threat, and finds within himself enough adrenaline to get to his feet and make his way over to the line of ant slaves, panting heavily in both panic and an attempt to getting his wind back. Percy regards Basil coldly as he gets in line, and folds his arms as he surveys the other ants. "Just remember that," he announces, "because every one of you will be off my hands before the day is out. Your new masters may not be as forgiving as I am." He flashes a sinister smile before gesturing in the direction of a wooden platform near the woodpile itself. There are several ants up there already, being displayed as several insects inspect and bid on them. "Now line up over there!" Suddenly feeling a little wetness coming down the right cheek, Basil puts a hand to it, only now discovering the cut. He takes his hand away, looking at the blood, and winces a little. That cut will show, but won't be a serious threat. He continues to follow the others toward the bidding area, shaking his head mournfully. Then a cringe follows as he hears Percy's comment about being more forgiving than the masters. He gulps deeply and begins trembling again. 'Gotta stay more alert!' He whispers to himself quietly. Percy and his rather quiet assistant trail behind the ants as they march up toward the platform. Several eyes move in the direction of the 'new merchandise,' curious and calculating all at once. Each ant is pushed up the platform, one by one, and ordered to turn around, run about, or even perform some kind of acrobatic feat if they look lively enough, in order to boost the sales. The bidders want nothing but the best, naturally. Basil looks onto the crowd, and then the 'performing' ants. "How am I supposed to make any kind of show after having been struck, thrown and kicked as I have?" He asks himself bitterly. "What will they do to me if I can't perform well." He creates a few maneuvers in his head, and then contemplates the humiliation of the whole situation. Suddenly lowered to the level of a mere object of sell and trade. Basil feels his life becoming nothing more than a mere existence. He can hardly look up now as his 'turn' nears. Just ahead of Basil is a young couple, who press especially close to each other, clearly having no desire to be parted. "If we stay close like this," the young woman whispers, "Someone might buy us both... they *have* to." Such an assertion sounds more like a desperate hope than anything. One of the slavers yanks the doleful male ant forward, and pushes him on the platform. Even though he obeys every order, such as turning around and running in little circles, his eyes never stray far from his companion. He is eventually bought. When it's the female's turn, she practically darts off the platform and falls at the bidders feet, tearfully begging him to buy her as well. When her plea is stoically refused, she is roughly dragged back on to the platform, "disciplined" with a whack, and sold to someone else at an insulting price. Watching this sorrowful sight, Basil feels almost overwhelming compassion as he watches the two ants separated, and the female struck for her actions. He feels rage enter his mind like a fire, but knows that retaliation would only mean further discipline, which could result in serious injury. Basil's turn comes, and as he is looked over, the insect gives him a disdaining look, and utters "Doubt you'll earn much." He laughs a mocking chortle, and with a sarcastic undertone, tells him to go over to a rather large object, and to lift it over his head. Basil does so, but in the lifting attempt, the pain in his left shoulder causes him to drop the object. Jeers are heard from the audience as this 'worthless specimen' is criticized. From behind a little podium, a fast-talking pill bug eyes Basil doubtfully, scratching behind one antennae with a gavel. "So, do we have a bid for this... *ahem* specimen? Two bits? Cracker jacks? Moth balls? Pebbles? Anything?" Silence. "Nothing? Come on, surely this one must be worth something! Sure he's banged up, but you know how ants are -- they bounce right back into shape," he snaps his fingers, "Just like that! Doesn't anybody know a bargain when they see one? Do I have a bid?" At length, a grim-looking hornet raises a hand and bids. When no one else offers a bid, the pill bug sighs. "Okay... sold!" Basil hears the comments from the audience and frowns deeply. 'I was a tunnel construction supervisor back at West Colony. Now, I'm now almost worthless in their eyes.' He sighs mournfully as he is led away and taken to his new owner. 'My life is over.' He sighs weakly. Basil, who only a couple days ago, was living a happy life in a colony who appreciated and accepted him, was now going to spend the rest of his life in servitude. The hornet eyes Basil skeptically, as if wondering if this ant really *is* a bargain... but after all, he didn't pay much. He guides the new purchase toward a cart, much smaller than the wagon that had Percy had used, which is attached to a large beetle. A few ants already occupy it, bought from this auction. "Get in," the hornet tells Basil simply. Basil obediently climbs in, and takes a seat by the other ants. They all have the same lifeless expressions he saw in the other cart. None of them look at him and he only passes a speedy glance and sits down. He then becomes as lifeless in countenance as the others in the group. He submits. The hornet positions himself in the front part of the cart, signaling the beetle to move. The larger insect moves on all sixes as he pushes forward, slowly dragging his burden away from the auction site, where lives are still being bartered like lifeless objects. Going over each bump only causes Basil's injuries to be aggravated. But they mean little to him. The only thing he does that can be beneficial is that he at the route taken from the bidding arena to his new /home/ he really pays little attention, but manages to consider it, in case the rare occurrence happens that he should find a way to escape. This is blotted from his mind soon, as he gives up hope again, seeing little chance of escape, but then it could be a possibility, he suggests to himself. "Tilly, Shine and Willow did manage it." [END LOG] Next Log: A Slave's Life Return to: Muted Identity logs.

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