Conspirators of Gor
Page 54
There were already some twenty Kurii in the room when Grendel entered and took his place, a prominent place, near the front of the room, before the dais.
A number of the other Kurii witnessed his arrival, and there was a stirring amongst them.
Grendel, I gathered, was noteworthy, perhaps important.
A few Ehn later, there was a sharp, ringing sound, resulting one supposes from the striking of one of the small bars, to the sounds of which the Lady Bina, amongst other festal tokens, had been welcomed to the Cave.
Timarchos and Lysymachos then emerged through the curtain and, one on each side, drew back the curtain, revealing a passage behind it.
I did not know how deep the passage was. It was dark.
In a moment I thought I sensed something within the passage, back in the darkness. I rose up a bit, off my heels, and strained my eyes. Then I was afraid, an Ihn or two later, that there was indeed something there. Then I heard a sound which was difficult to interpret, like a metallic scratching, interspersed, now and then, with a sudden, quick sound like a wheel of rotating metal spokes moving on tiles.
I was then sure there was something in the passage, but it had stopped. Then it had moved rapidly forward, then stopped again. I saw a glint of metal. It was a machine of some sort. At least it was not alive. Then it darted forward, onto the dais, and I screamed. Other kajirae, too, screamed, or cried out, startled, in fear. Then I heard a cry of pain as one of the kajirae was seized by the hair, and had her head forced down to the floor. It was a machine, clearly, but, in a moment, I was not so clear that it might not be alive. It was poised on the dais, alertly, and then sank downward, resting its belly on the dais. It had four eyes, or eye-like things, two mounted on its front, and two on metallic stalks which were lifted above the body, and could rotate about. The thing, then, could look behind itself without turning its body. The Kurii present, including Grendel, were unperturbed. One gathered they had seen this, or things like this, before. Oddly, though it was merely a machine of sorts, they accorded it respectful attention. It is difficult to describe the machine, which seemed so animate one might almost have thought it alive, even conscious, even intelligent. It had a generally crab-like look about it, a flattish, rounded, heavy, disk-like, metallic body, four jointed appendages in virtue of which it might move, and, most crab-like, emerging from the body on each side, two large, metallic arms, each terminating in giant bladed pincers. There was also, in the front of the body, below and to the sides of the lower eyes, those not on stalks, two capped apertures, the function of which I did not immediately discern.
Timarchos, and then Lysymachos, began to chant in Kur, and this chant was taken up by the Kurii in the room. Then, a few moments later, Lysymachos began to utter a series of short noises, and each of the attending Kurii responded to each of these noises with the same, brief response. Meanwhile the eyes on the stalks lifted and surveyed the room. I sensed them peering at Grendel, briefly, and then I half froze when I sensed them pointing in my direction, and was relieved, overwhelmingly, when they slowly, gracefully, moved to another perspective. One had the sense that the machine, unconcerned with the chanting, and the subsequent utterances with their unmistakably repetitive, identical, rote response, was noting, and counting, each form in the room.
I heard another note on the bar, and the room was then quiet, redolent with an expectant silence.
I began then to feel hair rising on the back of my neck, and on my scalp, and forearms.
Noises, clearly Kur noises, though with a sense of having been artificially produced, had begun to emanate from the machine.
One had the unmistakable sense, a terrifying illusion, that the machine was alive, though one knew this to be impossible. Something, however, somehow, was surely controlling the device, expressing itself through the device, perhaps perceiving through the device.
Dialogue apparently took place, largely between Lucius, Timarchos, and Lysymachos, and the machine. Certainly they spoke to it, regarded it, and treated it, as though it were alive, rational, conscious, and such. And, too, it seemed to regard them, relate to them, and interact with them, eerily, as though it were sentient, conscious, and rational.
At one point the machine addressed itself to Grendel, who rose in response to its attention. It spoke for a short time to Grendel, and, at one point, Grendel stepped back, startled, seemed almost to fall, and began to tremble. He did not seem frightened, but I had never seen such a reaction in the beast. Then, after a bit, at the conclusion of the machine’s address, he resumed the crouching position, so common to Kurii at rest.
There was then a commotion in the rear of the room, as a door was opened, and, in the threshold, feeling about, appeared, to my amazement, a figure I well recognized, one with which I had, in the past, become familiar, that of the blind Kur, whom we have decided to call Tiresias. It was prodded forward by two iron-chain Kurii with pointed sticks. By means of these sticks, striking and jabbing, Tiresias was guided to the foot of the dais, where he stood, lost, and forlorn, turning his head about, as though he were trying to see through the seared holes in his face. As he had been driven forward the other Kurii had hastened to clear him a path, as though they were loath to make contact with him.
He was addressed by the machine, to the utterances of which he made no response, but crouched down, and lowered his head, as though in shame.
Lucius then scrambled forward and began to snarl and hiss at Tiresias, and address him violently. He then struck at him, and then, carefully, firmly, perhaps ceremoniously, clawed him, on both sides of his face. There were then twelve streams of blood about the side of the Tiresias’ face. Tiresias made no attempt to resist, protect himself, or retaliate. Then all the Kurii in the room began to direct what I took to be abuse on the injured Kur. Grendel, too, sprang up and contributed to the opprobrious uproar, and it was only then, when this was done, that Tiresias reacted. He turned his bleeding, eyeless head to Grendel, and then, with his wide paws, covered the holes where his eyes had been, as though he could not bear to see what he might have seen, could he have seen. Tiresias was then, with the sharp sticks, striking and jabbing, hurried from the room.
While this took place the machine had been quiescent, though, I supposed, from the gleam of the eye-like things, not unaware of what had occurred.
Next two Kurii came before the machine, and stood before it, side by side, each, in turn, with great agitation, addressing it. One of the Kurii wore a silver chain. The other wore an iron chain.
When they were done, the machine, which had shown no sign of interest or emotion during what I took to be the protestations of either, turned slowly toward the Kur who wore the silver chain. It began to back warily away. Then it howled, as though in rage.
I do not know if it would have fled, or not, but it had no opportunity to do so. The two capped apertures below and to the side of the lower eyes, those mounted in the face or chest of the machine itself, snapped open and two, javelin-like, barbed darts burst out, each trailing a light, supple metal cable. These darts caught in the chest of the Kur, who wrestled to draw them forth, but, a moment later, he was drawn stumbling forward, toward the dais, as the cables were being reeled back into the machine. He was thus brought within reach of the gigantic pincer-like claws of the machine. I turned my head away. I only looked back in time to see that the silver chain, now dripping blood, had been removed from what lay about on the dais, and was being, by Lucius, put over the head of the other Kur. It was no longer an iron-chain Kur. It was now a silver-chain Kur. Timarchos and Lysymachos placed garlands on the shaggy head, and the assembled Kurii, including Grendel, rose up, and, as nearly as I could determine, congratulated, and saluted, the Kur about whose neck there now hung, I supposed for the first time, a silver chain.
I felt sick.
I wanted desperately to rise up, and flee through the halls, back to the slave quarters.
A noise came from the machine, and Grendel rose to his feet, facing the machine.
The machine then, again, began to speak. It spoke for more than three or four Ehn. Now and then, at the conclusion of one phrase or another, several of the assembled Kurii uttered sounds which I took to be sounds of agreement, or approbation.
Following the remarks of the machine, or those which were transmitted by means of the machine, Lucius brought forward a golden chain, which he placed over the head of Grendel. He then brought forth two garlands, giving one to Timarchos and one to Lysymachos. Each of these Kurii then placed his garland on the head of Grendel. Following this the assembled Kurii rose up, and, as nearly as I could determine, congratulated, and saluted Grendel.
I scarcely noted, in the celebratory milieu, that the machine had backed away, vanishing down the dark corridor behind the dais. Timarchos and Lysymachos, who seemed to attend on the machine, went behind the curtain and drew it shut.
After a time Grendel and I alone were in the room. He stood, and I looked up at him, from my knees. There was a golden chain, with a translator, looped about his neck. On his head were two garlands.
“Soon,” he said, “we will have work to do.”
“Might Master not use another girl?” I asked.
“No,” he said.
“Yes, Master,” I said.
“Go to your cage,” he said “and draw shut the gate.”
“Yes, Master,” I said.
I must remove my clothing before entering the cage. I would then draw shut the gate. It would lock automatically.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Provender, Masters,” I said, “and ka-la-na.”
I set down the tray on the table-like shelf to the right of the great portal, as one looks out, toward the Voltai. There is a small, open guard station there.
“How red your body is,” said one of the two guards.
This was so, even though I knew myself collared kajira.
“Some of the ka-la-na is spilled,” said one of the two guards.
“It was difficult coming through the corridors,” I said. “The masters, their hands!”
“Shall we beat her?” asked one of the guards to the other.
“Let us have a kiss instead,” said the other.
He opened his arms, and I hurried to him, and I was enfolded in his arms, and our lips met. I was held very tightly, and the kiss was a typical claiming kiss of a master. He then thrust me away, I half turning, into the arms of his fellow, and I found myself again handled as what I was, a slave girl.
“Shall we mark her thigh?” asked the first guard.
“It is early,” said the other. “There may be others. We can search her out later.”
“She may then be marked for another,” said the first guard.
“Then another day,” said the second guard.
The guards then turned to the tray.
I stood before the wide, double-gated portal, looking out onto the sunlit mountains. It was very beautiful.
It was doubtless through this portal that Mina, weeks ago, unnoted, had slipped from the Cave.
Through this same portal, too, weeks ago, the Lady Bina had been welcomed to the Cave, together with her party.
Through this portal, too, recently, Tiresias had been driven from the Cave, to wander sightless amongst the escarpments, the peaks, and crags.
It was chilly by the portal, but I dallied, for the bright, sharp air, and the vista. I did not, of course, cross the threshold.
It was now early in the fall, the second week in Se’Kara. We were aware that the wagons of Pausanias, now substantially emptied, were being refitted for a return journey, possibly to Ar. I did not know when they would depart. He would certainly wish to leave, however, before the late fall, and the commencement of the first snows. In the winter the Voltai is, for most practical purposes, impassable. I supposed he would not return, if he were to return, until the spring. I was not clear, nor was Master Desmond, as to the role the unusual cargo which had been borne by the wagons was to play in the affairs of the Cave. It did seem obvious that most of these goods, or supplies, had been transferred to the more restricted zones of the Cave, where there lay, supposedly, various laboratories and workshops. I speculated that the cargo, which I had gathered from Master Desmond seemed curious and exotic, might be expensive. This suggested substantial economic resources at the disposal of the Cave. Too, of course, it would be expensive to transport any cargo over long distances through dangerous, uninhabited areas, over perilous routes. I supposed it was unlikely that large quantities of gold or silver, for obtaining goods, would be carried in the wagons, as such an indiscretion, difficult to conceal, would be likely to attract the attention not only of outlaw bands but of some of the less savory “free companies,” assemblages of mercenaries, usually under a captain, who fought for fee, whose services were usually available to the highest bidder. Sometimes sides were changed in the midst of a single war. Who knew what clandestine gold might now have found its home in a new purse? Might the fellow beside you suddenly turn on you? Accordingly, much of the financing involved in such matters would doubtless be accomplished by means of drafts, notes, letters, and such, things mysterious, even unreal, to many Goreans, but familiar to the Merchants of the coin streets, pieces of paper which, like birds of the air, might only occasionally light upon a silver branch or rock of gold.
“Masters!” I cried, pointing.
The two guards came to my side, shading their eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It is a big one,” said the first guard.
“Masters?” I said.
“It is far off, kajira,” said the second guard. “It is much larger than it appears.”
“It is a larl,” said the first guard.
It was the first larl I had seen, though I had heard much of them. It is a much larger animal than the sleen, and it has four, not six, legs. It lairs in dens, and does not burrow like the sleen in the wild. It is carnivorous, and it most commonly hunts in the day. The sleen, in the wild, is predominantly nocturnal. The larl is probably the most fearsome land predator on Gor. The sleen, on the other hand, is Gor’s finest tracker. Domesticated sleen, tracking sleen, hunting sleen, herding sleen, guard sleen, war sleen, are relatively common on Gor. Domesticated larls are rare. Few people have seen one.
I stepped back a bit, behind the threshold.
“Do not be afraid, kajira,” said the first guard. “There is little to interest a larl here.”
“Except perhaps a tasty kajira,” said the second guard.
They laughed.
“They do not approach the portal,” said the first guard. “They do not understand it. It is different, unfamiliar, to them. Perhaps they fear being trapped. It is aversive to them.”
“Perhaps one will be more curious than another,” I said.
“Or more hungry,” said the first guard.
I shivered. I put my arms about my body.
“Do not be afraid,” said the first guard.
“I am not afraid,” I said. “I am cold.”
“You may withdraw,” said the first guard.
“You may return later for the tray, the utensils,” said the second guard.
“Or send another for them,” said the first guard.
“A pretty one,” said the second guard.
“I shall stand back a bit, if I may,” I said.
“As you wish,” said the first guard.
They then went again to the shelf to the right, where reposed their small meal.
I had been cold near the entrance, as it was a brisk day in Se’Kara, and I was camisked. Later in the year a camisked girl in the Voltai would presumably die of exposure, if she were not first devoured by beasts which, in the late fall, winter, or early spring, being half-starved, become unusually aggressive. I was not uncomfortable, back from the portal. The temperature in the Cave is kept equable by the Kurii, largely for the sake of their human allies, as Kurii, given their pelting, can easily sustain
temperatures which, to a human, would be not only uncomfortable, but dangerous. In any event the Kurii, who seemed to tolerate a wide variety of atmospheric conditions with equanimity, had apparently arranged the Cave’s temperature and humidity with the comfort of humans in mind. Indeed, I thought the temperature in the Cave, if anything, might be a bit warm. But what do Kurii know of humans, or care to know of humans? In any event, one would think nothing of encountering half-naked kajirae in the Cave even should the outside temperatures be freezing and the cold winds moan and roar about the peaks. The girls, of course, will be well aware of the contrast between the scantiness of their garmenture and the nature of the outside world.
I stood there, back from the portal, and listened to the chatting of the guards, mostly dealing with racing tharlarion and the price of women in Venna, and the small noises of utensils.
In the place of cells, where I had first encountered Grendel in the Cave, I had learned something of the politics of worlds. Those Kurii of the Cave, stubborn refugees of a putatively lost cause, impenitent and undissuaded, I had gathered, hoped to enleague themselves with one or more of the remote steel worlds, with the end in view of a conquest of Gor, and, perhaps eventually, if wished, of Earth. It was thought that Grendel, who stood high on one of these steel worlds, and was a hero of a recent revolution, might further this project. Doing so, of course, would be to repudiate the ends and principles for which he had earlier fought, and to ally himself with the very forces which had sought to destroy him and his party. The Grendel I had thought I had known, of matchless courage, integrity, and honor, would rather have perished uncomplainingly beneath the knives and irons of his enemies. I had feared only that he might be torn between the clear demands of honor and his troubling, profound solicitude for a single human female, the naive, unrealistic, ambitious, frivolous, charming Lady Bina. This solicitude was hard to understand, as he was a mere beast, and she was clearly human. If he had been human, or fully human, which he was not, the dilemma might, at least in principle, have been comprehensible. As it was, it made no sense. If it were not absurd, so out of the question, biologically, and such, one might have thought some sort of infatuation, even love, was involved. Certainly human history was filled with men who had betrayed a family, a party, a state, friends, allies, principles, honor, themselves, for the sake of an affair, a dalliance, a smile, a kiss. Surely the sparkling eyes of a free woman, and the hint of lips beneath a veil, had brought more than one general to defeat, more than one Ubar to ruin. It is said the man conquers with a sword, the woman with a kiss. How different from the slave who may be merely whipped and bought.