Big crested the hill, dragging a cart full of purses behind him. They called him Big because he was, a giant among the other slaves. Even at 16 he towered over the other men, even the Homo overseers, and was able to do twice the work of any other slave. As a result, three times as much was expected of him.

The Homo’s stun whip cracked across him back and caused him to stumble. Big didn’t waste time railing against his captors this time, the scars all across his body had taught him the harsh lesson of the futility of that. He just hefted the cart chain and pulled harder. It rubbed against his incu-batch scar and he gave it a scratch.

The scar read XJ27 .