Witness of Gor (9 page)

"Is she hot?" asked a man.

"It is so certified, by the house," said one of the strangers. I gathered this information had been obtained from my papers.

"We have had to warn the guards away from her," said one of the fellows from the house.

I kept my eyes up, on the ceiling.

"Already she has learned to beg," said a man.

"She has been instructed to keep her hands within the bars of her kennel," said another.

"In a few weeks," said one of the fellows from the house, "she will be utterly unable to help herself.”

One of the fellows from the house walked over to me. "Put your knees down," he said.

Immediately I complied. He then kicked one of my ankles to the side, so that I lay with my legs open.

I kept my eyes on the ceiling.

He who was apparently the leader of the strangers came and stood near me.

I looked up, but then looked away, quickly. I dared not meet his eyes.

He stepped away from me.

I moaned, a little.

"Are you interested?" asked the one who was first of those present, of the house.

"We will take her," said the leader of those not from the house.

SEVEN I did not break position.

I had not received permission to do so.

I continued to kneel before him, on the lavender grass, my head down to the grass, my palms upon it, as well.

The position is a common one, of obeisance.

I could hear some birds, among the trees. I could also hear, a few yards away, the fountain.

I sensed that his eyes were upon me.

I was in light silk. It was extremely brief, and was, for most practical purposes, diaphanous.

Certainly it left little doubt as to my lineaments.

I knelt before him, in an attitude suitable for one such as I before one such as he, a male, that of obeisance.

I did not know who he might be, or what he might want.

Too, had he seen me near the wall? "It is the rest period," he said.

"Yes," I said.

I had heard voices from within the house but I had thought them the voices of the one who was first amongst us and the assistants of that one. Some of us, in a place such as this, are usually subject to others of us. I was surprised, and frightened, when I had heard the voices, for it was unusual to hear such during the rest period. The rest period, I knew, was not over, or should not yet be over. If I had thought it even close to the time for the rest period to be over, I would not, of course, have been in the vicinity of the wall. That is, you see, not permitted.

"Why are you not on your mat?" he asked. "I was not tired," I said.

"You wanted to walk in the garden?" he asked. "Yes," I said.

"It is the heat of the day," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"Why were you not in the shade?" he asked "I do not know," I said.

"One such as you must be careful," he said.

"Yes," I said. I did not fully understand him. I was frightened.

"You should guard your complexion," he said.

"Yes," I agreed, relieved.

"It would not do to become sunburned, to become reddened, or blistered.”

"No," I said.

"Or worse," he said.

"No," I said, trembling.

How was it that he was here, a man, now? Who was he? "You might then be less pleasing," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"You are new in the garden," he said.

"Yes," I said. How could he have known that? I was sure he was not of the staff. Certainly I did not recognize his voice.

Could I be of interest to him? Other, of course, than in the way in which one of my kind might be found of interest by any man? "Position," he said.

So said, so simply, I straightened my back, and knelt up, straight, but back on my heels, my knees widely spread, for this was in accord with my kind within a kind, the palms of my hands on my thighs. I kept my head bowed, however. This sort of thing, I had learned, tends to depend on the city, and the man. It is safest to keep it bowed, unless one knows that it is to be held otherwise.

"You may lift your head," he said.

No, I did not know him. I did not recognize him. He was a strong, powerful man, of which here, in this place, on this world, there seemed no dearth. He was tall. He wore a street tunic, a fillet of wool holding back long, dark hair, a wallet. He did not appear to be armed. I was small, and soft, before him. I did not doubt but he, as one of his kind, would well know the handling of one such as I, one of my kind.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I have had many names," I said. It was true. A name for the purposes of training, a name for the purpose of kennels, and so on.

"You have an accent," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"What are you called in the gardens?" he asked.

"'Gail'," I said.

He smiled. "An excellent name," he said.

I put down my head, but raised it again, remembering that I had been given permission to lift it, a permission which suggested that it might be well to keep it lifted, unless otherwise instructed. Still, he had not commanded me to meet his eyes.

Accordingly, gratefully, I tended to keep my eyes averted from his. It can be difficult for one such as I to meet the gaze of such a man.

"For one such as you," he added. I was silent.

"That is an Earth name," he said.

"Yes," I said.

He then was aware of at least a portion of what is called the "second knowledge." He might, thusly, be of high caste.

"You were originally from such a place?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"But now you are only from here, aren't you?" he said.

"Yes," I said. It seemed that nothing could be more true than that.

He drew a sheet of paper from his wallet. On it was a design, or a word, or name.

"Can you read this?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"You cannot read?" he said.

"No," I said.

I was illiterate on this world. I had not been taught to read or write any of its languages.

Such skills were not deemed needful for one such as I.

He turned the paper over.

"Do you recognize this sign?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "It is the sign of the city." It was a simple mark. I had seen it before, even within the house, on documents and such.

My mind raced. I did not know what, really, I was doing here, in the garden, or why I had been brought here. To be sure, perhaps I had been brought here, really, no differently from others, nor for purposes essentially different from theirs. That was possible. But I was not sure of it. The "flowers" here were of astounding quality and I was not at all sure that I, even given the fact that I might be of interest, even of remarkable interest, on this world, really belonged among them, at least on purely aesthetic grounds. Similarly I was not versed in song, I was not skilled with lute or lyre, I did not even know the special dances of the gardens. It is one thing to writhe naked before guards, one's body obedient to the slightest tremor of the flute, and quite another, for example, to swirl in a belt of jewels on the dancing floor of one of the golden taverns, reached only from the high bridges. But then, perhaps, they are not really so different after all. But, in any event, I had not had special training, or, at least, no training more special than any one such as I would have, who is not intended to be, and sold as, a dancer.

Why should he be asking me these things? Of course I could not read! Could he not simply look upon my lineaments, and my silk, and know that? Of course some of the flowers could read. That was true. But I could not! Would he not know that? Of course I could recognize that one sign. Was it not well known? What did he want? He returned the sheet of paper to his wallet.

I looked up at him. I wanted to read his eyes.

"Have you been near the wall?" he asked, offhandedly.

I must have turned white.

I was now sure that he had seen! He must not tell. He must not!

"Brand," he said, idly.

I knelt up, from my heels, and, still kneeling, turned to my right. I drew up the silk on my left side, with the fingers of both hands, to the waist, as one does, this exposing the tiny, graceful mark there, high on my left thigh, just under the hip.

"A lovely flank," he remarked.

Many times before had I received such compliments. My flanks, I had gathered, were of interest to men, and other portions of my body, as well, and the whole, the whole.

But then I sensed it was the brand he was regarding.

"Yes," he said, looking at it.

But surely it could mean nothing to him. It was, as I understood it, in its variations, the most common mark on this world for one such as I. It was only the common mark, nothing special, or different.

"Yes," he said, again. He seemed satisfied.

He was not surprised, of course, that the mark was on me. It would have been utterly improbable that that mark, or some equivalent sign, would not have been upon me, and most likely in that place. That is the most common site for such a mark.

Merchant practice, and social custom, tend to standardize such things.

I, too, regarded the mark. It is expected, indeed, in such a situation, that we, too, will regard it, as it is exposed on the flank, the silk lifted to the waist with the fingers of two hands. We are to turn our eyes downward and to the left, and look upon it, seeing it once again, understanding it once again.

I looked at him, and he was looking at me, a slight smile about his lips.

I looked down, again, to the mark. What could be his interest in it? Surely one such as he, large, tall, strong, vigorous, of this world, one in whose demeanor I sensed an unconfused unity and will, one in whose loins I sensed considerable power, would have seen such a thing many times before, and would have seen such as I many times before. I did not think he would be unfamiliar with my kind, the uses to which we might be put, our diverse values, and such.

Perhaps he had only wanted me to expose my flank to him. After all, cannot it be pleasant, or amusing, for them to observe us, while we, under command, perhaps reluctantly, perhaps in tears, reveal ourselves to them? Perhaps it was only in I that he was interested, as he might be interested in any of my kind, he what he was we what we are. But, no!

He had been concerned with the brand. But what could it have meant to him? It was only the common mark. It was a small, tasteful, beautiful mark, of course. I had no doubt it much enhanced my beauty. Too, of course, it had its symbolic aspects, in its design, and its reality, that it marked me. Indeed, sometimes, even thinking of it, I had screamed softly with passion.

More than once I had, in my former places, bared it to a guard, in mute petition, calling thusly to his attention what I was and what I wanted from him, and what I hoped for from him, and what I needed from him, thusly pleading without words that he might deign to take pity upon me.

But often they would not so spare my pride and would have me at their feet, licking and kissing, and begging explicitly. Then they would either take pity on me, or not, as it pleased them. Sometimes, of course, we would be denied human speech. At such times we must make known our needs by other means, such things as moans and whimpers, and tears. But the primary purpose of the mark, one supposes, is not to be understood naively in such terms as its simple factual enhancement of our beauty, nor even in terms of how it makes us, those who wear it, feel, but rather, more simply, in virtue of more mundane considerations, such as its capacity to implement certain practical concerns of property, and merchant, law. By its means, you see, we may conveniently be identified, and recognized.

But he had, I was sure, been interested in the particular brand I wore.

This was hard to understand, of course, as it was merely one of the numerous variations on the common mark.

There were doubtless many in the city, even thousands, I supposed, who wore the same, or a very similar, mark.

I looked up at him again, and then, sensing that I might do so, lowered the silk. I then returned to my former position, kneeling back on my heels, facing him, not meeting his eyes.

He had seemed satisfied, regarding the brand. It had seemed to mean something to him. I did not understand it. But surely he could not be interested in me, save as one such as he might be expected to be interested, if only as a passing whim, in one such as I.

"In what house were you first processed?" he asked. I looked at him, frightened.

"You have not been near the wall, have you?" he asked.

"Please," I wept.

He regarded me.

Tears formed in my eyes. "I do not know in what house I was first processed," I said. It was true.

"What was the name of he who over you first held total rights?" he asked.