Kur of Gor (20 page)

"You will commonly kneel in the presence of free persons,” said Cabot. “You will address free men as “Master,” free women as “Mistress.” Instant and unquestioning obedience is expected of you. Commonly, you are not to speak unless you have been given permission to do so. When you speak you will speak with softness and deference. You can own nothing. It is you who are owned. You are a property, an animal, subject to buying and selling, trading, and such. You are completely at the disposal and pleasure of your master, in all ways."

"In all ways?"

"Yes."

"—Even?"

"Yes,” he said, “and particularly so."

"I do not want to be a slave!” she cried.

Peisistratus lifted his switch, but Cabot placed his hand gently on his arm, and stayed his hand.

She had not requested permission to speak.

"You do want to be a slave,” Cabot informed her.

"No, no!” she said.

"But it does not matter one way or another,” he said. “You are a slave."

"No,” she wept. “No, no!"

Arcesilaus, who was large, even for a Kur, had witnessed the preceding exchanges with a certain degree of tolerance. Kurii, as I may have mentioned before, do not make slaves of humans, no more than, say, humans make slaves of dogs or cats. They tend to regard humans, on the whole, as food. Indeed, in Kur there is a generic word for “food,” and it is understood that it covers a wide variety of edible organisms, for example, verr, tarsk, vulo, human, and so on. Similarly, in many of the Earth languages I am informed there is a similar generic word which refers to a wide variety of edibles, vegetables, fruit, nuts, meat, and so on. Kurii do, of course, recognize that humans may serve several purposes beyond those commonly associated with food, that they may, for example, have uses as workers, pets, confederates, and so on.

Arcesilaus then gave a slight shake to the blonde's leash, and she, who had been curled on the wood at his feet, quickly stood up.

"Would you like to see our world?” inquired Arcesilaus of Cabot, through the translator.

"Very much so,” said Cabot.

Pyrrhus, much smaller than Arcesilaus, no more than four or five hundred pounds, who was in the ring hierarchy subordinate to Arcesilaus, was looking at the brunette, who was still in position. That movement of the features which Cabot was learning was a Kur smile, appeared about his jaws.

Peisistratus replaced his switch on his belt.

"Follow us, if you would,” said Arcesilaus.

The group then prepared to leave.

Cabot turned to the brunette.

"Cecily,” he said. Then he repeated the name, firmly, not unkindly. “
Cecily
."

He wondered if she would understand what was required.

"—
Master
?” she whispered.

He saw she was highly intelligent.

"When we leave,” he said, “you may break position.” Then he continued to look at her, obviously awaiting a response.

"Yes, Master,” she said.

He continued to regard her.

"—Thank you, Master,” she whispered.

Yes, he thought, she is quite intelligent. Doubtless with some training much might be expected of her in the furs, at the foot of one's couch.

He then turned to leave, and followed the others, who had preceded him a bit down the passageway.

As he left he heard her sobbing behind him, and wildly pulling at the chain, trying to free it from its fastening.

She would not, of course, be successful in this endeavor.

* * * *

"I have noted, from the stable,” said Cabot to his guides, “there seems to be an alternation of day and night."

"It agrees,” said Arcesilaus, “with that of Gor, adjusted seasonally, to the middle latitudes of that world."

"Intentionally,” said Cabot.

"Surely,” said Arcesilaus.

"I would have thought,” said Cabot, “it would have been adjusted to that of your Home World."

"Much has been lost,” said Pyrrhus, “pertaining to the Home World."

"It is important to index these things to Gor,” said Arcesilaus.

"Of course,” said Cabot.

"It is similar in several of the other worlds,” said Arcesilaus. “We wish to ease as much as possible the transition to Gor for our people."

"An invasion?” said Cabot.

"An immigration.” said Pyrrhus. Cabot noted that grimacelike smile that betokened Kur pleasure, or wit.

"There are those spoken of as Priest-Kings,” noted Cabot.

"Tell us about them,” said Arcesilaus.

"They are powerful, and considered mysterious,” said Cabot, carefully.

"They imprisoned you, for you are their enemy,” said Arcesilaus.

"We are your friend,” said Pyrrhus.

"They imprisoned me,” said Cabot, “but I am not their enemy."

"But you are our friend,” said Pyrrhus.

"Perhaps,” said Cabot. “But how can a mere human, no more than a simple beast, be a friend to those as mighty and noble as Kurii?"

"Do you think you are speaking ironically?” asked Arcesilaus.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"You are not,” said Pyrrhus.

"Where is Zarendargar?” asked Cabot. It was, after all, he who had doubtless planned and brought to fruition the raid on the Prison Moon.

"He is your friend?” inquired Arcesilaus.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"Interesting,” said Pyrrhus.

"We shared paga,” said Cabot.

"A great honor,” said Arcesilaus. The translator pronounced these words precisely, clearly, unemotionally, in accents of Ar, but Cabot could tell that Arcesilaus deemed this an intelligence of some moment.

"Where is Zarendargar?” asked Cabot.

"Doubtless safe and well,” said Arcesilaus. “And perhaps you will see him soon."

Cabot was not reassured by this communication, as benign as it seemed. He was sure that his rescue had been brought about through the resourcefulness and daring of Zarendargar. Why then had he not seen him?

"Tell us of Priest-Kings,” said Arcesilaus.

"How do you arrange day and night here?” asked Cabot. He looked up, at the valley overhead.

"It is done,” said Arcesilaus, “by an arrangement of mirrors outside the habitat and automated shutters within the habitat, utilizing the light, of course, of this system's primary."

"That light is constant,” said Pyrrhus, “and it supplies us with not only light but, by means of large absorbers and transformers, enormous energy, constant energy, almost unvarying energy, which may be utilized in a variety of forms, directly and indirectly."

"The habitat,” said Cabot, “would lack an atmosphere."

"An external atmosphere,” said Arcesilaus. “Obviously there is no difficulty with our internal atmosphere, which, too, incidentally, is much like that of Gor."

"What could protect you from radiation,” asked Cabot, “or from debris, of the sort which might be destroyed and scattered in a normal atmosphere?"

"The habitats are shielded, of course,” said Arcesilaus, “with several yards of slag, steel, stone, and such."

"Objects of sufficient menace,” said Pyrrhus, “such as those approximating the mass of the habitat itself, can be detected, years in advance, and no more than a small energy, at that distance, is required to move them from their course."

"Is there no danger from smaller debris?” asked Cabot.

"Very little,” said Pyrrhus. “You must understand that the light and energy is introduced into the habitat indirectly, by means of mirrors and reflective devices. Occasionally a particle, weighing no more than man or tarsk, rebounding, or such, punctures the habitat, in the vicinity of the shutters. This rupture is soon detected and repaired. Even were it not, it would take several days for the atmosphere to be reduced to levels of discomfort."

"Have you factories, farms?” asked Cabot, who, from his vantage point, could see little that suggested such things.

"Certainly,” said Arcesilaus, “but we would not wish to clutter the habitat with such miscellaneous utilities. Accordingly, they are isolated, usually only a few Ehn journey from the habitat. We have two agricultural satellites, or cylinders, and one devoted to industry."

"In the agricultural satellites,” said Pyrrhus, “a number of crops are grown, not blood food, but crops from which, suitably processed, nourishment may be obtained. We may arrange growing seasons, temperature, soil nutriments, light and darkness, and such, as we please. Thus we may have crops all year around in any fashion desired. There are no noxious insects, or such, either, to compete for the food, as we have not allowed their entry into the areas. Only such bacteria as are beneficial are admitted."

"The farms are largely automated,” said Arcesilaus, “though conditions must be monitored. Our people who work in the farm areas often wear protective clothing, for the heat, the humidity, and such, of some of the areas, particularly those of a tropical nature, would be uncomfortable."

"Out industrial cylinder,” said Pyrrhus, “has several divisions in which work may be efficiently accomplished, some of it, when appropriate, under degravitized conditions."

"Where,” asked Cabot, “do you get the raw materials for these things, the shielding, the chemicals, and such?"

"The habitat swims in the midst of plenty,” said Pyrrhus.

"But oxygen?” said Cabot.

"Oxygen is abundant in the silicate of our neighbors,” said Arcesilaus. “It is one of the commonest elements in the universe. So, too, with carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, and such. Ferrous metals, phosphates, water, sulfur, and so on, abound. All of these materials are obtained and processed."

"You have all you need for life here,” said Cabot, “food, water, raw materials, comfort, territory, abundant energy, all such things."

Arcesilaus shrugged, a movement of large muscles moving like living rope beneath the skin, moving the shimmering fur in turn like wind in the water.

"You have little to fear,” said Cabot, “other than the demise of the star."

"We would then seek another,” said Pyrrhus.

"You can move the habitats?"

"Of course,” said Arcesilaus.

"Of course,” said Cabot, “that is how you came here."

"We are not sure, now, from how far,” said Arcesilaus.

"Records are lost, and some remaining are inconsistent."

"Wars,” explained Arcesilaus.

"With all due respect,” said Pyrrhus, glancing at the blonde, who lay at the feet of Arcesilaus, “the universe belongs by right to the Kurii. We are the highest and noblest life form in the universe, its noblest and supreme accomplishment. Has it not been designed to produce us and abet our projects? It is accordingly our duty to seed the universe with our kind and to spread the light of our civilization throughout the cosmos."

"Have you already begun to do so?” inquired Cabot.

"Yes,” said Pyrrhus. “Some of the worlds are already aflight."

"You shudder?” inquired Arcesilaus.

"I felt cold,” said Cabot.

"You have seen enough for one day,” said Arcesilaus. “Let us return you to the stable."

"There are some other cylinders, as well,” said Pyrrhus. “There is a hunting cylinder, muchly forested, where we may go for the pleasures of hunting, and we maintain, for our human confederates, a pleasure cylinder, such things."

"It seems you have everything you need here,” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Arcesilaus.

"But you are not satisfied?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"This is not a natural world,” said Arcesilaus.

"It is not Gor,” said Pyrrhus.

"What of Priest-Kings?” asked Cabot.

"Yes,” said Arcesilaus. “What of Priest-Kings?"

"Perhaps you will tell us about them some day,” said Pyrrhus.

"Perhaps,” said Cabot.

Arcesilaus then gave a tiny shake to the blonde's leash, and she stood, happily.

She was very pleased to be back in her collar.

You may recall her unease in the container, when she had awakened uncollared, her touching her neck, and such, her fear. You may not have understood her anxiety at the time, or fully, but would have, had you known more of the Steel Worlds. We tried to explain her concern at the time, at least to some extent. For example, apprehended by the patrollers, with their catchpoles and ropes, as a stray, she might have been remanded, perhaps hamstrung, to the cattle pens, later to be dragged to the butchering table.

In any event, it is not surprising that she was pleased to be back in her collar, with all the security it afforded her, but, more importantly, now, she was forward and even arrogant in wearing it. It indicated, after all, her particular and enviable specialness, her status, amongst humans in the habitat. She was a Kur pet.

Had she not, just now, in effect, posed before Cabot, touching the collar with both hands, pointing to it with both hands, looking up at him, indicating it, displaying it?

The collar itself was attractive on her, of course, as collars are on women. Surely she was becomingly collared, and it well set off her sleek, raw nudity, as a collar will. It was a typical pet collar, for such as she, high, to keep her head up, leather, closely fitting, locked in the back, with a ring in front, to which a leash might be attached, a chain, or such.

Cabot did not doubt but what her owner's name was on the collar. That is typical, at any rate, of Gorean slave collars. The slave's name, too, is often included, as in, say, “I am Susan. I belong to Michael of Treve,” “I am Linda, the property of Emmerich of Harfax,” “This slave is Phyllis. She belongs to Rufus, of Ar,” and so on.

Cabot smiled at her.

She moved her face in such a way that suggested she was trying to smile. Babies smile, thought Cabot, but perhaps they learn to smile.

At this point the interlocutor, Grendel, as we have chosen to speak of him, who had silently accompanied the group until now, uttered a low, menacing growl.

Arcesilaus then said something which was not picked up by the translator, and the blonde immediately went to all fours, the leash dangling up to her master's hand, or paw. Women look well on all fours, thought Cabot. I wonder if her master knows how this sight might affect male humans, seeing lovely human females so, particularly slaves, not that the blonde was a slave. She was a pet. Cabot would have preferred that she was a slave. There is something special about slaves. He had not unoften had his own slaves approach him so, sometimes bringing him the switch, or a whip, in their teeth.