Kur of Gor

by John Norman

  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.

  The blonde looked up at him, happily.

  Again the interlocutor growled, but a word from Arcesilaus, not transmitted, rebuffed him, and he put his shaggy head down, angrily, sullenly, on his chest. But two paws remained clenched.

  "Our compatriot,” said Arcesilaus, indicating Grendel, “will see you to the stable."

  "Why was I brought here?” asked Cabot.

  "It is getting late,” said Arcesilaus.

  Grendel surlily indicated that Cabot should precede him to the stable, which was not far. When they arrived there, Cabot entered the stable, and Grendel closed and locked the gate behind him. Cabot turned and said “Tal.” In this way he greeted Grendel. Grendel appeared surprised, but, after a moment, said, “Tal.” He had not used the translator.

  Cabot then returned to the stall.

  The brunette was gone.

  Chapter, the Sixth:

  A CONVERSATION WITH GRENDEL

  "It is here,” said Grendel, “in this vestibule, that you are to await the summons of the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, Theocrat of the World."

  "Of this world,” said Cabot.

  "Is there another?” asked Grendel.

  "It is not necessary to pretend to be stupid with me,” said Cabot.

  "But I am stupid,” said Grendel, “a mere beast."

  "Switch off your translator,” said Cabot. “You can speak Gorean."

  Grendel shook his head, and did not move to touch the translator.

  "I have a thousand questions,” said Cabot, angrily. “I would know their answers."

  "I shared a stall, days ago, with a dark-haired slave,” he said. “She is gone. Where is she? I have been brought here, to this world. Why? Where is Zarendargar? Who is Agamemnon? What is a Nameless One? What is the Eleventh Face of a Nameless One? How are there humans here? What do you do with them? Who are your confederates? How many have you? How do they figure in your plans? There is purpose in all this, I am sure. You do little or nothing without purpose. Why am I here? What do you want of me?"

  Grendel turned off his translator, and turned away.

  "You know the pet of Arcesilaus!” called Cabot.

  Suddenly Grendel stopped, but did not turn to face him.

  Cabot had well recalled the menace in the beast's attitude, its growls, several days earlier, when he had smiled at the pet of Arcesilaus.

  Cabot was not stupid. He was not certain, but there seemed something there he might be able to exploit.

  "She is a pretty thing,” said Cabot. “And clever. We were in the container together, on the Prison Moon. Perhaps you know of that."

  Grendel turned about and crouched down. His hind legs were bent, tensed. The knuckles of his hands were on the tiles. There was moisture at his fangs.

  If he charges, thought Cabot, he may slip on the tiles. They are smooth. But if he is clever he will approach more carefully, but swiftly.

  He is furious.

  I think he will lunge.

  But he is clever.

  Then Grendel retracted his claws.

  He does not have permission to kill me, thought Cabot.

  "She is a lovely pet, and very clever,” said Ca
bot. “In the container she was trying to learn to speak. She could repeat sounds well. I thought I would mention this, for you might teach her to speak. That might be pleasant, and think how interesting a pet she would be, if she could speak. Would not Arcesilaus be pleased? You could use the translator."

  "I am teaching her to speak,” said Grendel.

  Cabot was startled.

  "For days, since you came to us,” he said.

  "Does Arcesilaus know?” asked Cabot. He was reasonably sure that Arcesilaus, despite what he had suggested, would not wish his pet to learn to speak. Presumably Kurii would not wish their humans, save, say, their confederates, to be able to speak. Surely they would prefer for their humans, their pets, their cattle, and such, to remain without speech, to remain simple speechless animals. That is the way they would want them.

  "Yes,” said Grendel. “And it is by his command that I am teaching her."

  "I speculate that she is an apt pupil,” said Cabot.

  "She is apt, and zealous,” said Grendel.

  "Then you are much together?"

  "Yes."

  "You like her?"

  "She is only a human,” said Grendel, “an animal."

  "You like her?"

  "She is a lovely pet,” said Grendel.

  "But you like her?” said Cabot.

  Grendel turned away.

  "Wait,” called Cabot. “Why is she being taught?"

  "To be more pleasing to you,” said Grendel, without turning about. “She is to be a gift for you."

  "I do not want her,” said Cabot.

  Grendel turned slowly to face Cabot. He was like a rounded boulder of fur. He lifted his head. “You do not want her?” he said.

  "No,” said Cabot.

  "But she is human,” he said.

  "So, too,” said Cabot, “are you."

  "No!” cried Grendel.

  "Look at your hands!” cried Cabot.