"I wonder if she understands what that means,” said Cabot.
"Probably not,” said Peisistratus. “Do you want her?"
"No,” said Cabot.
"You need only say the word and Agamemnon would give her to you, or any other who might please you."
"Lord Agamemnon is generous,” said Cabot.
"Have you pondered the offer of Agamemnon, proposed to you in the palace?” inquired Peisistratus. “He grows impatient."
"I expect to give him my answer soon,” said Cabot.
"I trust it will be the right answer,” said Peisistratus.
"It will be,” said Cabot.
"Good,” said Peisistratus.
Cabot smiled.
"I would not dally overlong,” said Peisistratus.
"No,” said Cabot.
"I shall accompany you to your lodgings,” said Peisistratus.
"That is perhaps wise, considering my testimony,” said Cabot.
They then left the courtroom.
"It is interesting to me,” said Peisistratus, “that you have expressed no interest in the fate of another."
"What other?” asked Cabot.
"The brunette, she with whom you shared a stall,” said Peisistratus.
"I remember her,” said Cabot. “She was the pet of Lord Pyrrhus, as I recall. But, as I understand it, he was deprived of his rank, his goods, his chattels, and such, even before the trial."
"The outcome of the trial was not in doubt,” said Peisistratus, “until the unexpected vacillations and vagaries of a particular witness."
"But the trial was inconclusive?"
"The trial, perhaps, but not justice,” said Peisistratus. “Justice will have its way, by one road or another."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"Kur justice,” said Peisistratus, “is nothing if not efficient and expeditious."
"So what happened to the goods of Lord Pyrrhus?” asked Cabot.
"I see you are interested."
"Surely,” said Cabot.
"Goods and chattels were confiscated, thus becoming the properties of the state."
"Of Lord Agamemnon?"
"Yes. But one chattel was given away before the fall of Lord Pyrrhus."
"Given away?"
"Yes."
"Oh?"
"The brunette,” said Peisistratus. “When Pyrrhus expected you to die or be slain in the sport cylinder, he was no longer interested in a simple slut, a mere human, one whom he had acquired primarily to provoke you."
"To whom was she given?” asked Cabot.
"To me,” said Peisistratus.
"And you accepted her?"
"Certainly,” said Peisistratus. “It would have been churlish to refuse, do you not think so, and, besides, what fellow would not be pleased to accept the gift of so lovely a pet?"
"She was given to you as a pet, and not as a slave?"
"Yes,” said Peisistratus.
"But she is a slave."
"Every inch of her, every hair on her head, every cell in her body, every bit of her,” said Peisistratus.
"Then she has not yet been claimed as a slave?” said Cabot.
"No,” said Peisistratus.
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"I thought you would be interested,” said Peisistratus.
"What has been done with her?"
"She has been taken to the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Peisistratus.
"Then she will be safe from Kurii."
"Unless from those who monitor the cylinder,” said Peisistratus.
"I trust she is worked well,” said Cabot.
"She is worked excellently,” said Peisistratus, “and she is becoming well apprised she is a slave."
Cabot was pleased with this intelligence pertaining to the former Miss Pym. The sooner she understood she was a slave, and no more than a slave, the better. He supposed several of the young men who had known her on Earth would not be displeased to own her.
"Few in the cylinder speak English,” said Cabot.
"She is being taught Gorean, by the girls,” said Peisistratus. “And she is learning quickly."
"Good,” said Cabot.
It is important for a girl to learn quickly the language of her masters.
"She is highly intelligent,” said Peisistratus.
"Good,” said Cabot.
Goreans do not wish for the lips of a stupid woman to be pressed to their feet.
"Too, of course,” said Peisistratus, “as she is a female slave, she is being taught the pleasing of men, by a switch."
"Of course,” said Cabot.
To be sure, the switch is largely an encouragement to diligence and a corrective for mistakes, or clumsiness. Its applicability may also be noted where errors in Gorean grammar, phrasing, or such, might take place.
"I am surprised,” said Cabot, “that she has not been claimed."
"None will claim her,” said Peisistratus.
"But she is surely comely, would look well in ropes, would be nicely curved at one's feet, would bring a good price off the block, and such."
"Nonetheless,” said Peisistratus, “none claim her."
"Surely the cylinder could do so, publicly,” said Cabot.
"It has not done so,” said Peisistratus.
"On Gor there are many slaves owned by the state, by institutions, businesses, and such."
"This is not Gor,” said Peisistratus.
"There are difficulties?"
"Several,” said Peisistratus. “Food, oxygen, space, the quotas, the allotments, the requirements of Kurii, and such."
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"She should be soon claimed, or destroyed,” said Peisistratus.
"Why is that?” inquired Cabot.
"There is no place here for unclaimed slaves,” said Peisistratus.
"I know a world,” said Cabot, “where there are untold thousands of unclaimed slaves."
"I know that world, as well,” said Peisistratus, “but I would say untold hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of unclaimed slaves."
Cabot was silent.
"But when we bring them to Gor,” said Peisistratus, “they find themselves claimed, and owned, and clearly the properties of masters."
"True,” said Cabot.
It is a joy for the slave to find at last her master, and for the master to have at his feet at last his slave.
"It seems she should be claimed,” said Cabot.
"When sleeping in her chains, uneasy, sobbing, twisting and rolling about, she calls your name,” said Peisistratus.
"Interesting,” said Cabot.
"Was she not placed in the container on the Prison World with you, by Priest-Kings?” asked Peisistratus.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
"Doubtless to be exquisitely attractive to you, to be even irresistibly attractive to you, one to be a perfect slave for you, one who would be a veritable slave of your dreams, one perhaps designed for your collar, one perhaps even bred for your collar?"
"Perhaps,” said Cabot.
"It seems then that the Priest-Kings have miscalculated,” said Peisistratus.
"It would seem so,” said Cabot.
Certainly he could see little point in her being placed in the container other than to torment him, tearing him apart, betwixt his honor and his desire. But then he asked himself, how could one desire such a female, one so haughty and contemptuous, one so obsessed with her own contrived, eccentric self-image, one so naively and pretentiously, so uncritically, imbued with her vanity, and the encumbrances of an unnatural, pretentious, forlorn civilization? But certainly she had been well turned on nature's lathe, to taunt and torment men, at least until she had become their vulnerable, helpless possession.
"But she is clearly a slave,” said Peisistratus.
"Of that there is no doubt,” said Cabot.
"Do you think she knows she is a slave?"
"In one sense,” said Cabot. “The chain on her leaves her in no doubt of it."
"But do you think she knows the chain is rightfully and appropriately on her, that it belongs on her?"
"Probably not,” said Cabot.