Plunder of Gor (6 page)

Chapter Four

In the van, after the first hour, we were unhooded and unbitted. We were given small, thick disks of what I took to be some sort of unleavened bread.

“Eat,” said one of our captors, who rode with us in the back of the van.

We obeyed.

We were given water, as well.

We were not permitted speech.

We were kept handcuffed together.

This very much displeased me, for I had taken a great dislike to Paula. She was not more attractive than I! I had rather scorned her, and even felt sorry for her before. Now I resented her. One needed only examine the models in the fashion magazines, watch television commercials, watch beauty pageants, attend to the standardized ideals of womanhood promoted in our culture, so much at odds with the normal, typical woman, to recognize the naivety and ignorance of our captors. They knew no more about beauty than sculptors and painters, from ancient Greece and Rome to the Renaissance, to the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Century, and so on. But, too, if she was really so beautiful, I was not that different from her, really! I suppose she was intelligent, but surely not more intelligent than I. She could not be too intelligent; she read books. There was likely to be little there, in such reading, having to do with enhancing your appearance, improving your popularity, manipulating others, advancing your career, or such.

“May we speak, Master?” asked Paula.

“No,” he said.

“Well, I will speak,” I informed him.

“Do you wish to wear a slave bit?” he asked.

“No,” I said, “no!”

I had had more than enough of that hideous device. I would do much to avoid it. I would be very obedient. I would try to be pleasing. I would smile. If worse came to worst, I might even let one of those insensitive brutes kiss me.

“In another hour,” said the fellow, after a time, glancing at his watch, “we will arrive at the embarkation point. You will be briefly housed there, with others, in a well-lit subterranean warehouse, prior to your shipping. You will not be shipped immediately, as other merchandise is currently
en route
to the embarkation point. You will receive a briefing, a short orientation, such that you will understand what you now are and what you are now for, and some preliminary training. We want you to survive your first week on Gor.”

“Gor!” I thought. “Surely he does not expect us to believe that there is such a place, supposedly another planet, supposedly another world!”

“Your serious training will take place in one of several houses,” he said. “We supply such houses. Some houses conduct their own sales; others commonly have arrangements with independent markets.”

I shuddered.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

I nodded. I wore only the silk nightgown.

He removed his jacket, and put it about me.

We then remained silent, as before. We had not been permitted to speak.

The van sped on.

Chapter Five

The van had slowed, and turned, and was now jolting over a rough surface. We drove for some twenty or thirty minutes. There were apparently dips in the road. We occasionally heard branches brush the sides and roof of the vehicle.

The van stopped.

“We must clear the gate,” said the fellow with us. “There are hidden surveillance cameras, the fence is charged.”

I assumed that this, the clearing or whatever it might be, would be done from the outside, or that the men in the cab would attend to it. Certainly our captor showed no indication of leaving us alone in the van. Unattended, even handcuffed together, might we not have attempted flight?

But I was afraid that Paula, even given such an opportunity, might have dallied, or, if she ran, it would have been merely for my sake, that I might not have been impeded.

Did she long to be on a chain? Did she hope to belong to a man, categorically, as no more than his possession?

He lifted the lid of a box to his left.

I did not understand this.

We heard a creaking, as of the swinging of two large objects, presumably the leaves of a gate.

The man with us reached into the box to his left, and withdrew two objects, apparently of pliant, folded leather.

The van moved a little ahead, and then stopped again.

One of the two men in the cab, I gathered, had left the vehicle.

“We have cleared the gate,” said the man with us. He shook out the two objects he had removed from the box to his left. They were leather and sacklike; each had a short belt threaded through leather belt loops. I noted, as well, on each object, two rings, and what appeared to be a small lock of some sort.

I was uneasy.

We heard the creaking sound again, followed by a sound of joining and locking metal, and a rattle of chain.

“You are going to be hooded,” said the man with us. “Hold still.”

The leather, sacklike thing was drawn over my head, and, with the belt, drawn shut under my chin. It was apparently buckled shut. Then I heard a tiny sound of metal, and the click of a small lock.

I could see nothing. I felt helpless. I wanted to scream with fear. I put my right hand to the apparatus, fumbling at the buckle behind my neck.

“Put your hand down, kajira,” he said. “You cannot remove it. It is locked on you.”

I would soon grow accustomed to such devices, and how helpless I would be in them.

I lowered my hand. My name was not ‘Kajira'. It was ‘Phyllis', ‘Phyllis'!

I could clearly hear Paula being served with a similar device.

A moment or two later the fellow who had left the vehicle returned. We heard the door of the cab close.

The van then lurched ahead, again.

A minute or two later it stopped, again, and, a moment later, we sensed the fellows in the cab leave the vehicle.

I felt the jacket removed from my shoulders. I felt chilly. I wore only the nightgown. My knees were drawn up, as I sat on the van floor. I was barefoot. I supposed our captor then donned the jacket.

Shortly thereafter we heard the gate at the back of the van lifted. I felt cold air rush into the vehicle. It might still be dark. I did not know. I shivered.

“Two,” said a voice.

“On your feet, kajirae,” said our captor. “Move to the door; you will be lifted to the walkway.”

I moved gingerly toward the opening, Paula drawn hesitantly, cautiously, after me, by her right wrist.

I was taken into someone's arms, powerful, masculine arms, and lifted from the van, and placed on a wooden surface. Almost simultaneously, my left wrist fastened to her right wrist, Paula, doubtless similarly in someone's arms, was deposited beside me.

I heard the fellow who had been with us in the van descend to the walkway. “You are going to be ankleted,” he said, “placed in numbered anklets. Do not try to remove the anklets. You will not be able to do so. They will be locked on you. We will keep track of you by means of the numbers. They will identify you in our records, where your hair and eye color, your measurements, and such, will be recorded. It is important to keep track of one's stock. If it is helpful, you may begin to think of yourselves as what you now are, objects, or animals, stock, only that. You no longer have names, unless we choose to give you names. I wish you well, sweet beasts. May you find yourselves well collared, and subject to the whips of strong masters.”

How helpless we were, where we knew not, hooded and handcuffed together.

“This way,” said a voice, and I felt a hand grasp my upper right arm.

We were conducted along a wooden walkway. I could hear the shoes, or boots, of the men on the boards. We were then stopped. I heard the sound of a key in a lock, and a hasp being freed from its staple. Shortly thereafter I heard a door, I think a wooden door, swung back, and we were led within what I supposed might be a shed. The floor was of wood, as had been the walkway. Then we were stopped again. The next sound I heard seemed incongruous with the others. It did not fit in with the apparent primitiveness, or rurality, I had assumed characterized my surroundings.

“Step ahead,” said the fellow with us.

I then felt, surprising me, carpeting under my feet, and sensed, below that, a metal surface.

I gasped, startled.

“Steady,” said the male voice.

The elevator was descending.

“The holding area is underground,” said the man, “some floors below. Do not be concerned. It is large, well-lit, pleasant, warm, comfortable.”

After a bit, the elevator stopped.

I heard a door, or panel, slide to the side.

“Move ahead,” said the male voice.

We left the elevator.

“Kneel,” said the male voice, “your heads to the floor.”

I knelt down, and put my head to the floor.

The handcuffs were removed from us, but my hands were drawn up, behind my back. Metal encircled my wrists. I heard two small, decisive clicks. I jerked at my wrists, but could not part them. They were fastened in place, closely together, behind my back. It was the first time I had been placed in such things. I would grow familiar with them. They are designed for women. Many are plain, but many, too, are lovely, designed, like jewelry, to set off, and enhance, not only the utter helplessness, but the beauty of their occupant. So I wore, for the first time, though I did not know it, slave bracelets. I heard two similar clicks, to my left, and I gathered that Paula was similarly secured.

I felt something of metal, heavy and sturdy, put about my left ankle, and snapped shut. A moment later, to my left, I heard a similar sound.

“They are ankleted,” said a man.

“Let us examine the catch,” said another.

“Kneel up,” said a third man.

I obeyed.

I felt hands about my neck, from behind. The lock was undone, and the hood was unbuckled, and then pulled away.

I looked wildly about, blinking against the light, my eyes half closed, kneeling, my hands confined behind my back.

It was a large, rectangular area, uncarpeted, low-ceilinged, lit with fluorescent light. About its periphery, as I was facing, were several doors, doubtless leading to other halls, or rooms. Behind me, though I did not realize it at the time, were several cells, with closely set bars. There were also, here and there, some small kennels or cages, in which I would suppose dogs, or other animals, might be confined. Occasionally, too, some chains dangled down from the low ceiling.

“This one is a beauty,” said a voice.

“Of course, I was a beauty,” I thought. “Doubtless they had seldom seen a woman so beautiful!”

I lifted my head, arrogantly.

“But it was mine to withhold, or bestow, as I might,” I thought. “It would open doors for me. It was my device, fortune, and weapon. Men, the smitten fools, strove to please me. It could be exploited, to my advantage. I had often done so, as a matter of routine and practice, in minor matters, biding my time, awaiting the special opportunity, which must eventually appear, the wealthiest, most handsome, most charming suitor. I could auction it off, when it pleased me, so to speak, to the highest bidder. When one has beauty, what more is needed?”

But I knelt on a cement floor, barefoot, clad only in a nightgown, my hands fastened behind me!

“Marvelous,” said one of the men.

“Of course!” I thought.

“What is your name?” asked one of the men.

“Whatever Masters please,” said Paula.

The men were not regarding me! They had gathered about Paula, plain, shy Paula!

“Two, silver,” said one of the men.

“On a first sale?” asked another.

“Why not?” said the first.

“What of the other one?” asked a fellow, looking toward me.

“Copper tarsks,” said a man.

“She is not bad,” said another.

“She may do,” said another, “once she has been taught her collar.”

I wanted to cry out with indignation, and rage, but I dared not speak. We had been warned to silence. These men were of the sort a woman knows she must obey.

At that time I did not realize that I would, indeed, and soon, be taught my collar, indeed, would be well taught my collar.

“She is the one Kurik said was a bitch,” said one of the men.

“What is a ‘bitch'?” asked another of the men, who seemed to have some sort of accent.

He was answered by a phrase I did not understand, as it seemed to be in a language I did not recognize.

“Oh,” said the one who had asked the question, seemingly satisfied.

“Are you a bitch?” asked the fellow who had answered the first fellow's question.

“No!” I said.

“Lying is not permitted to one such as you,” he said.

“I do not think I am a bitch,” I said. “I hope I am not a bitch.”

I recalled that the fellow who had appeared unexpectedly in the office, that warm afternoon, near closing time, when the shades were drawn against the light and heat, had dared to use that expression of me. How rude, how insulting! And then I recalled, further, uneasily, that he informed me that a whip could take that out of a woman.

“Is it true,” asked the fellow with the accent, “that when Kurik appeared before you, you did not immediately fall to your knees?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Do not be concerned,” said one of the men. “She is a stupid, spoiled woman of Earth. She did not know any better.”

“She must learn quickly,” said the fellow with the accent.

“She will,” he was assured.

“More amusingly,” said another, “she struck Kurik.”

“Surely not,” said the fellow with the accent.

“I wish I had seen it,” said another.

“And her hand was not cut off?” asked the man with the accent.

“She thought herself a free woman,” said a man.

“Mistakenly,” said the man with an accent.

“True,” said another. “One can look at her, and see that she is a slave. Regard her face, and lineaments.”

“She knew no better,” said a man. “Let her keep both hands. She will then be better able to please a master in the thousand modalities of the kajira.”

“Let us chain and lash her now,” said the man with the accent.

“She did not then know she was a slave,” said a man.

“Many females do not,” said another.

“But they are of Earth,” said the man with the accent.

“Even so,” said another.

“Very well,” said the man with the accent. “Put them in a cell, cell six, with the others.”

“Stand 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.

“This 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.