"Yes,” said Cabot.
The brunette, hearing this word, straightened her body a little.
How vain she is, thought Cabot.
The interlocutor then turned about, and left.
"What did he say, about our demands?” asked the brunette. “Is he going to convey them to his superiors?"
"Your demands,” said Cabot. “And he did not say anything about it, one way or the other."
"What a stupid beast!” she said.
"I do not think so,” said Cabot.
"Next time,” she said, “you must be more firm, more insistent."
"You may speak yourself, next time, if there is a next time,” he said.
"My Gorean!” she protested.
"Speak in English,” he said.
"He would not understand,” she said.
"No, he would not."
"Then what would be the point of it?"
"There is no point to it,” he smiled.
"My demands are meaningless?"
"Yes,” said Cabot. “Now kneel there on your chain and think about that."
"I did hear the word ‘kajira',” she said, pleased.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"He thinks I am beautiful,” she announced.
"Pretty, at least,” said Cabot.
"'Pretty'!” she said. “Beautiful!"
Cabot smiled.
"You at least,” she said, “can see that I am beautiful, extraordinarily, remarkably beautiful!"
"You will do,” he said.
"Beast!"
"I told you, did I not, that I thought you would bring a good price—in a market, a slave market."
"Beast! Beast!” she said.
But Cabot could see that she was pleased. What woman has not wondered what she might be worth, what men would pay for her?
If a female wishes to understand what she is, let her consult her fantasies, her dreams.
"He thought that I was pretty?” she asked.
"I think so,” said Cabot.
"But what would a beast, such a beast, know about female beauty?” she asked.
Cabot shrugged.
"—You don't think?” she said. She jerked at the chain, frightened.
"I do not know,” he said.
"How long have we been here?” she asked.
"I think five days,” he said.
"The light here is dim, but constant,” she said.
"I have frequently gone to the barred portal, through the passages, sometimes while you slept, and there have been there five lights and five darknesses."
"Day and night!” she exclaimed. “Then we are on a world!"
"We are on a world,” he said. “I am sure of it."
"Then it is a natural world, a planet, for there is day and night!” she said.
"In a way, I suppose,” he said.
"I do not understand,” she said, “the rotation of a planet in its orbit, about its star."
"Things, I think, might be managed differently,” he said.
"I do not understand,” she said.
"I noted something of interest,” he said, “about our friend, something I should have noticed before."
"What? The eyes, the voice?"
"The hand,” said Cabot, “certainly you saw the powerful digits."
She shuddered.
"It is clearly the match for a Kur hand,” he said.
"It is a Kur hand,” she said irritably.
"Certainly not a typical Kur hand,” he said.
"Why not?” she asked.
"The Kur hand, or paw,” he said, “has six digits. The hand, or paw, of our friend has five digits."
Chapter, the Fifth:
THE STEEL WORLD
"Ai!” cried Cabot, who was startled, for he was not accustomed to such things.
In the cylinder it seemed there were four long valleys, in one of which they stood; some yards outside the stable, and on the left and right, far off, on each horizon, as though in the sky, there was another valley, and another, dim, far off, lay directly overhead. Between these valleys there were mountains and forests. And Cabot, too, could see, here and there, like a silver thread, a meandering stream.
"There,” said his guide, whom we shall call Arcesilaus, pointing to the left, into the distance, and sky, “is Lake Fear. There is good fishing there, as there is in the streams, and pools."
"Why is it called Lake Fear?” asked Cabot.
He was aware that Kurii were not fond of water.
"Because of the saurians there,” responded Arcesilaus, “descendents of saurians from the Home World."
"And you fear them?"
"Yes."
"Where is the Home World?” asked Cabot.
"It is gone,” said the second Kur, whom we shall call Pyrrhus.
"But we shall have another,” said Arcesilaus.
"It is called Gor,” said Pyrrhus.
"What is above us does not fall upon us,” observed Cabot. It seemed strange to him to see above him, so distant, what he took to be trees, and dwellings, viewed as though from overhead, and yet he was clearly below them, or, perhaps, equivalently, above them.
"This habitat, as many, is a cylinder,” said Arcesilaus, “but many, too, are spherical."
"The gravity surrogate,” said Pyrrhus, “is achieved by rotation."
"It seems much like that of Gor,” said Cabot.
"Intentionally,” said Pyrrhus.
"One can arrange a variety of gravities,” said Arcesilaus, “depending on the speed of the rotation."
"I did not understand such worlds to be so large,” said Cabot.
"This is far from the largest,” said Arcesilaus.
"How large is it?” asked Cabot.
"In measures with which you are familiar,” said Arcesilaus, “some sixteen hundred square pasangs."
"The territory of Venna,” said Cabot, “is not so great."
"I do not know,” said Arcesilaus.
"It is very large,” said Cabot.
"Far from the largest,” said Arcesilaus.
"It is the size of a small country,” said Cabot.
"I suppose so,” said Arcesilaus.
"There is day and night here,” said Cabot. He had ascertained this while still in the stable. The brunette had been left behind, on her chain. With the group, other than Cabot, Arcesilaus, and Pyrrhus, were the interlocutor, whom we shall call, following an earlier conversation between Cabot and the brunette, Grendel, and one or perhaps two others, depending on how one wishes to count. We must certainly count at least one, for he was a male human, a Gorean, a confederate of the Kurii, whose name was Peisistratus, who was of Cosian origin. He was not armed, for humans are not permitted arms in the habitat, save in the areas reserved for them. He did, however, carry a switch. It was some two feet in length. It was clipped on his belt. It was of slender, black, supple leather. It was felt that his presence might be useful if difficulties arose in communication with the human, Tarl Cabot. Also, as we know now he was a spy for the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, who was Theocrat of the Steel World in question. When necessary, we shall refer to the Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, not inappropriately we trust, by the name of a powerful war leader and king, Agamemnon. The Agamemnon of whose name we have availed ourselves may, as we understand it, have been mythical. I suspect not. The Eleventh face of the Nameless One, however, is not mythical. Its presence we are told is everywhere. I do not know if that is true or not. I doubt it, however, for if it were true, why would it make use of spies? It does, however, upon occasion, assume bodies. I have seen more than one.
The other entity in our small group, which may or may not be counted, as one wishes, was the leashed pet of Arcesilaus, an unspeeched blonde human female, indeed, she whom we encountered earlier in the container. She was very pleased to have been allowed to accompany her master, even into the stable, where he, Pyrrhus, the interlocutor, and Peisistratus, the human, had come to fetch Tarl Cabot, who had, upon their arrival, risen to his feet, and saluted them, with an uplifted hand, and the word “Tal,” to which greeting Peisistratus had responded, similarly. “Tal” had come, too, from the translators of Arcesilaus and Pyrrhus. The blonde had snarled at the brunette, for she remembered her with hostility from the container, and the brunette, on all fours, had drawn back, pulling to the length of her chain.