by John Norman
I calculated the distance between myself and Sarm and wondered if I could reach him and kill him before he could bring his jaws into play, or those formidable blades on his forelegs. Where would one strike a Priest-King?
To my surprise Sarm then jerked at the door of the compartment from which he had withdrawn my sword. He bent it outward and downward and then, with one of the pieces of metal hanging from the necklace at his throat, he scraped at the front edge of the door and bent it a bit outward; following this he attacked the interior edge of the cabinet similarly.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I am making sure," said Sarm, "that no one will lock your sword up again in this compartment." He added, as an afterthought, "I am your friend."
"I am indeed fortunate to have such a friend," I said. It was obvious that the compartment was being fixed in such a way as to suggest that it had been broken open.
"Why," I asked, "are you adorned as you are today?"
"It is the Feast of Tola," said Sarm, "the Feast of the Nuptial Flight."
"Where did you get green leaves?" I asked.
"We grow them in special chambers under lamps," said Sarm. "They are worn on Tola by all Priest-Kings in memory of the Nuptial Flight, for the Nuptial Flight takes place above the ground in the sun and there on the surface there are many things which are green."
"I see," I said.
Sarm's foreleg touched the metals dangling from his necklace. "These, too," he said, "have their significance."
"They are an ornament," I suggested, "in honor of the Feast of Tola."
"More than that," said Sarm, "look at them closely."
I approached Sarm and regarded the pieces of metal. Some of them reminded me of shallow scoops, others of awls, others of knives.
"They are tools," I said.
"Long ago," said Sarm, "in Nests long before this one, in times of which you cannot conceive, it was by means of these small things that my people began the journey that led in time to Priest-Kings."
"But what of the modifications of the ganglionic net?" I asked.
"These things," said Sarm, "may even be older than the modifications of the net. It is possible that had it not been for them and the changes they wrought in an ancient form of life there might have been no such modifications, for such modifications might then have been of little practical utility and thus, if they had occurred, might not have been perpetuated."
"Then it might seem," I proposed, somewhat maliciously, "that from one point of view, contrary to your suggestion of yesterday, that these tiny pieces of metal—and not the modifications of the ganglionic net—are the true and ultimate source of the Priest-Kings' power."
Sarm's antennae twitched irritably.
"We had to pick them up and use them, and later make them," said Sarm.
"But they may have come before the modifications of the net, you said," I reminded him.
"The matter is obscure," said Sarm.
"Yes, I suppose so," I said.
Sarm's bladelike projections snapped into view and disappeared again.
"Very well," said Sarm, "the true source of the Priest-Kings' power lies in the microparticles of the universe."
"Very well," I agreed.
I was pleased to note that it was only with genuine effort that Sarm managed to control himself. His entire body seemed to tremble with rage. He pressed the tips of his forelegs forcibly together to prevent the spontaneous triggering of the bladed projections.
"By the way," I asked, "how does one kill a Priest-King?" As I asked this I found myself unconsciously measuring my distance from Sarm.
Sarm relaxed.
"It will not be easy with your tiny weapon," he said, "but Misk will be unable to resist you and so you may take as much time as you wish."
"You mean I could simply butcher him?"
"Strike at the brain-nodes in the thorax and head," said Sarm. "It will probably not take more than half a hundred strokes to cut through."
My heart fell.
For all practical purposes it now seemed that Priest-Kings would be invulnerable to my blade, though I supposed I might have injured them severely if I sliced at the sensory hairs on the legs, at the trunk joining thorax and abdomen, at the eyes and antennae if I could reach them.
Then it occurred to me that there must be some vital center not mentioned by Sarm, probably a crucial organ or organs for pumping the body fluids of the Priest-Kings, most simply something corresponding to the heart. But of course he would not tell me of this, nor of its location. Rather than reveal this information he would undoubtedly prefer that I hack away at doomed Misk as though he were a block of insensate fungus. Not only would I not do this because of my affection for Misk but even if I intended to kill him I surely would not have done so in this manner, for it is not the way a trained warrior kills. I would expect to find the heart, or its correspondent organ or organs, in the thorax, but then I would have supposed that the respiratory cavities were also in the thorax and I knew that they were actually in the abdomen. I wished I had had time to investigate certain of Misk's scent-charts, but even if I had had the time, I might not have found helpful charts and, anyway, my translator scanning them could read only labels. It would be simpler, when I approached Misk with my sword in hand, to see if he would volunteer the information. For some reason I smiled as I considered this.
"Will you accompany me," I asked, "to the slaying of Misk?"
"No," said Sarm, "for it is Tola and I must give Gur to the Mother."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"It is not a matter of concern for humans," said Sarm.
"Very well," I said.
"Outside," said Sarm, "you will find a transportation disk and the two Muls, Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta. They will take you to Misk and later will direct you as to the disposal of the body."
"I can depend on them?" I asked.
"Of course," said Sarm. "They are loyal to me."
"And the girl?" I asked.
"Vika of Treve?"
"Of course."
Sarm's antennae curled. "Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta will tell you where to find her."
"Is it necessary for them to accompany me?" I asked.
"Yes," said Sarm, "to ensure that you do your work well."
"But it will be too many who will know of the thing," I suggested.
"No," said Sarm, "for I have instructed them to report to the dissection chambers following the completion of your work."
I said nothing for a moment, but simply looked at the Priest-King who loomed above me.
"Kusk," said Sarm, anticipating me, "may be displeased for a time, but it cannot be helped, and he may always produce others if he pleases."
"I see," I said.
"Besides," said Sarm, "he gave them to me and I may do with them as I please."
"I understand," I said.
"Do not worry about Kusk," said Sarm.
"Very well," I said, "I shall try not to worry about Kusk."
Sarm pranced backwards on those long, delicate, jointed legs, clearing the passage to the door. He lifted his long, bladelike body almost to the vertical.
"I wish you good fortune in this venture," he said. "In the accomplishing of this matter you do a great service to the Nest and to Priest-Kings, and thereby will you gain great glory for yourself and a life of honor and riches, the first of which will be the slave girl Vika of Treve."
"Sarm is most generous," I said.
"Sarm is your friend," came from the Priest-King's translator.
As I turned to leave the chamber I noted that the grasping appendages on Sarm's right foreleg turned off his translator.
He then raised the limb in what appeared to be a magnanimous, benevolent salute, a wishing of me well in my venture.
I lifted my right arm somewhat ironically to return the gesture.
To my nostrils, now alert to the signals of Priest-Kings and trained by my practice with the translator Misk had allowed me to use, there
came a single brief odor, the components of which I had little difficulty in discriminating. It was a very simple message and was of course not carried by Sarm's translator. It was: "Die, Tarl Cabot."
I smiled to myself and left the chamber.
20
Collar 708
Outside I encountered Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta.
Although they stood on a transportation disk and this would customarily have been enough to delight both of them, today, and for good reason as I recognized, neither of them looked particularly pleased.
"We are instructed," said Mul-Al-Ka, "to take you to the Priest-King Misk, whom you are to slay."
"We are further instructed," said Mul-Ba-Ta, "to help you dispose of the body in a place of which we have been informed."
"We are also instructed," said Mul-Al-Ka, "to express our encouragement for you in this fearsome undertaking and to remind you of the honors and riches that await you upon its successful termination."
"Not the least of which, we are requested to point out," said Mul-Ba-Ta, "is the enjoyment of the female Mul Vika of Treve."
I smiled and boarded the transportation disk.
Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta took up positions in front of me, but standing with their backs to me. It would have been easy to fling both of them from the disk. Mul-Al-Ka stepped on the accelerator strips and guided the disk from the vicinity of Misk's portal and out into the broad, smooth thoroughfare of the tunnel. The disk flowed silently down the tunnel on its wide gaseous tread. The air of the tunnel moved against us and the portals we passed slid behind in a soft blur.
"It seems to me," I said, "you have well discharged your instructions." I clapped them on the shoulders. "Now tell me what you really wish."
"I wish that we could, Tarl Cabot," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"But undoubtedly it would be improper," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"Oh," I said.
We rode on for a while more.
"You will note," said Mul-Al-Ka, "that we are standing in such a way that you might, without our being able to stop you, hurl us both from the transportation disk."
"Yes," I said, "I noted that."
"Increase the speed of the transportation disk," said Mul-Ba-Ta, "in order that his action may be the more effective."
"I don't wish to throw you from the disk," I said.
"Oh," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"It seemed a good idea to us," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"Perhaps," I said, "but why should you wish to be thrown from the disk?"
Mul-Ba-Ta looked at me. "Well, Tarl Cabot," he said, "that way you would have some time to run and hide. You would be found, of course, but you might survive for a while longer."
"But I am supposed to have honors and riches," I reminded them.
Neither of the Muls spoke further but they seemed plunged into a sadness that I found in its way touching, but yet I could scarcely refrain from smiling for they looked so precisely similar.
"Look, Tarl Cabot," said Mul-Al-Ka suddenly, "we want to show you something."
"Yes," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
Mul-Al-Ka swung the transportation disk suddenly down a side tunnel and, accelerating fiercely, flowed like sound down the tunnel for several portals and then stepped off the accelerator strips and, as the disk slowed and stopped, brought it neatly to rest at a tall steel portal. I admired his skill. He was really rather good with the disk. I would have liked to have raced him.
"What is it you wish to show me?" I asked.
Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta said nothing but stepped from the transportation disk and, pressing the portal switch, opened the steel portal. I followed them inside.
"We have been instructed not to speak to you," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"Were you instructed to bring me here?" I asked.
"No," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"Then why have you brought me here?"
"It seemed good for us to do so," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"Yes," said Mul-Ba-Ta. "This has to do with honors and riches and Priest-Kings."
The room in which we found ourselves was substantially empty, and not too much different in size and shape from the room in which my processing had been initiated. There was, however, no observation screen and no wall disks.
The only object in the room other than ourselves was a heavy, globelike contrivance, high over our heads, attached to a set of jointed extensions fastened in the ceiling of the chamber. In the floor side of the globelike contrivance there was an adjustable opening which was now of a diameter of perhaps six inches. Numerous wires extended from the globe along the metal extensions and into a panel in the ceiling. Also, the globe itself bristled with various devices, nodes, switches, coils, disks, lights.
Vaguely I sensed that I had heard of this thing somewhere before.
In another chamber I heard a girl cry out.
My hand went to my sword.
"No," said Mul-Al-Ka, placing his hand on my wrist.
Now I knew the purpose of the device in the room—why it was there and what it did—but why had Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta brought me here?
A panel to the side slid open and two plastic-clad Muls entered. Leaning forward they were pushing a large, flat circular disk. The disk floated on a thin gas cushion. They placed the disk directly under the globelike object in the ceiling. On the disk there was mounted a narrow, closed cylinder of transparent plastic. It was approximately eighteen inches in diameter and apparently constructed so that it might be opened along its vertical axis, although it was now securely locked. In the cylinder, save for her head which was held in place by a circular opening in the top of the cylinder, was a girl, clad in the traditional robes of concealment, even to the veil, whose gloved hands pressed helplessly against the interior of the cylinder.
Her terrified eyes fell on Mul-Al-Ka, Mul-Ba-Ta and myself. "Save me!" she cried.
Mul-Al-Ka's hand touched my wrist. I did not draw my sword.
"Greetings, Honored Muls," said one of the two attendants.
"Greetings," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"Who is the other?" asked one of the attendants.
"Tarl Cabot of the City of Ko-ro-ba," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"I have never heard of it," said the other attendant.
"It is on the surface," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"Ah well," said the attendant, "I was bred in the Nest."
"He is our friend," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"Friendship between Muls is forbidden," said the first attendant.
"We know," said Mul-Al-Ka, "but we are going to the dissection chambers anyway."
"I am sorry to hear that," said the other attendant.
"Yes," said Mul-Al-Ka, "we were sorry to hear it too."
I gazed at my companions with amazement.
"On the other hand," said Mul-Ba-Ta, "it is the wish of a Priest-King and thus we also rejoice."
"Of course," said the first attendant.
"What was your crime?" asked the second attendant.
"We do not know," said Mul-Al-Ka.
"That is always annoying," said the first attendant.
"Yes," agreed Mul-Ba-Ta, "but not important."
"True," agreed the first attendant.
The attendants now busied themselves with their work. One of them climbed onto the disk beside the plastic cylinder. The other went to a panel at the side of the room and by pushing certain buttons and, turning a dial, began to lower the globe object down toward the girl's head.
I pitied her as she turned her head up and saw the large object, with an electronic hum, descend slowly towards her. She gave a long, frantic, terrified, wild scream and squirmed about in the cylinder, her small gloved fists striking futilely at the strong, curved plastic walls that confined her.
The attendant who stood on the disk then, to her horror, pushed back the hood of her garment and the ornate, beautiful veils that masked her features, face-stripping her as casually as one might remove a scarf. She trembled in the cylinder, pressing her small hands against it, and wept. I noted that her hair was brown
and fine, her eyes dark and longly lashed. Her mouth was lovely, her throat white and beautiful. Her final scream was muffled as the attendant adjusted the heavy globe over her head and locked it in place. His companion then snapped a switch at the wall panel and the globe seemed to come alive, humming and clicking, coils suddenly glowing and tiny signal lights flashing on and off.
I wondered if the girl knew that a plate of her brain traces was being prepared, which would be correlated with the sensors guarding the quarters of a Chamber Slave.
While the globe did its work, and held the girl's head in place, the attendant at the cylinder unlocked the five latches which held it shut and swung it open. Swiftly and efficiently he placed her wrists in retaining devices mounted in the cylinder and, with a small, curved knife, removed her clothing, which he cast aside. Bending to a panel in the disk he took out three objects: the long, classic, white garment of a Chamber Slave, which was contained in a wrapper of blue plastic; a slave collar; and an object of which I did not immediately grasp the import, a small, flat boxlike object which bore the upraised figure that, in cursive Gorean script, is the first letter in the expression for "slave girl."
On the latter object he pressed a switch and almost immediately, before I became aware of it, the upraised portion turned white with heat.
I lunged forward but Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta, sensing my intention, seized my arms and before I could shake them off I heard, muffled but agonized from within that terrible metal globe, the cry of a branded slave girl.
I felt helpless.
It was too late.
"Is your companion well?" asked the attendant at the wall.
"Yes," said Mul-Al-Ka, "he is quite well, thank you."
"If he is not well," said the attendant on the disk, "he should report to the infirmary for destruction."
"He is quite well," said Mul-Ba-Ta.
"Why did he say 'destruction'?" I asked Mul-Al-Ka.
"Infected Muls are disposed of," said Mul-Al-Ka. "It is better for the Nest."
The attendant on the disk had now broken open the blue plastic wrapper that held, fresh and folded, the garment of a Chamber Slave. This, with its clasp on the left shoulder, he fastened on the girl. He then sprung her wrists free of the retaining devices and reclosed the plastic cylinder, locking her inside once again. She was now contained precisely as she had been originally save that she had exchanged the thick, multitudinous, ornate Robes of Concealment, the proud, cumbersome insignia of the free woman of Gor, for the simple garment of a Chamber Slave and a burning wound on her left thigh.