Kur of Gor

Chapter, the Eighth: AN INTERVIEW WITH AGAMEMNON, THE ELEVENTH FACE OF THE NAMELESS ONE

"Where is he?” asked Cabot.

The audience chamber, reached by a long passage leading from the vestibule, was quite large. It was rounded and domed, and, high in its walls were narrow windows, through which the interior was dimly lit. The floor was smooth, and red, and formed of large, fitted tiles. The encircling walls were of yellow stone. At one end of the room, opposite the portal through which Cabot and Peisistratus had entered, was a low, stone dais. On it was no chair. Behind this dais was a curtained opening.

"This might be the audience chamber of a Ubar,” said Cabot.

"I think not,” said Peisistratus. “Such a chamber would surely be more ornate, better lit, crowded with servitors and guards, furnished ostentatiously with precious vessels, statuary, display slaves, a sampling of nude chained beauties, preferably of high caste, ideally the daughters of Ubars, taken from conquered cities, and such."

"Still, it is similar,” said Cabot.

"Doubtless it is intended to resemble a Ubar's audience chamber,” said Peisistratus.

"The common housing, and domiciling, of Kurii, as I understand it,” said Cabot, “is far darker, and more cavelike."

"Yes,” said Peisistratus, “they have excellent dark vision, and often feel more secure, more comfortable, in such surroundings."

Cabot supposed that the Kurii might originally have been a species which sought out lairs, dark places, caves, and such.

"This is then to impress humans?"

"Perhaps,” said Peisistratus, “but, too, perhaps it is intended to make them feel less closed in, more at ease."

"So where is our host?” inquired Cabot.

"It seems,” said Peisistratus, “he is letting you wait."

Cabot smiled.

Shortly thereafter the curtains at the end of the room, behind the dais, were drawn open by two Kurii.

From down the hall, beyond the curtain, Cabot heard a sound as of metal, a step, and then a scraping, and another step, and a scraping. It was very slow, and very methodical, as though something were accustoming itself to an unfamiliar housing of some sort.

Peisistratus said nothing.

Cabot stepped back, for he saw in the parting of the curtain a wide face, a broad form, a long form, the end of which he did not discern.

"It is a tharlarion, a river tharlarion,” said Cabot.

It was a creature of metal, but it did muchly resemble a large river tharlarion of the sort which might terrorize the Ua, and such rivers, predominantly those of tropical Gor.

It crawled slowly onto the dais, on which it crouched. Its mouth, which it opened, as though yawning, was spiked with rows of thick, nail-like metallic teeth, some inches in length. Cabot could see no face within the opening. It is a machine, thought Cabot, but where is its operator? Is it remotely controlled? The metal beast had, like the river tharlarion, a long tail, in this machine of diminishing, overlapping plates. It also had hornlike projections aligned on its metal spinal column. Cabot conjectured the jaws could shake and cut a normal river tharlarion in two, that the tail, with a swift blow, might shatter stone or fell trees.

The two Kurii who had parted the curtains for the entrance of the metal beast now crouched near it, on the dais, one on each side.

"Behold,” came from a translator, presumably that of one of the beasts flanking the object on the dais, “Agamemnon, The Eleventh Face of the Nameless One, Theocrat of the World."

This was followed by a silence.

"Are we expected to prostrate ourselves?” asked Cabot. He had, incidentally, no intention of doing so.

"Certainly not,” said Peisistratus. “We are not women or slaves. We are free men, of caste."

"Tal,” said Cabot, to the object on the dais.

"Tal,” it said, through a translator, seemingly within the metallic body. “We welcome the noble Tarl Cabot, human, and Warrior, to our world."

With an inclination of his head, Cabot acknowledged this greeting.

"We have long been eager to make your acquaintance,” came from the device. “We have waited long to have you here, as an honored, and valued, guest."

"Sir,” said Cabot, noncommittally.

"Doubtless you have many questions,” came from the device. “Many, I trust, have already been answered by our unfortunate Grendel, whose repellant appearance we trust did not overly disgust you, and others by our dear colleague and friend, Peisistratus, of the lovely island of Cos, in Thassa. We shall shortly do our best to satisfy any residue of curiosity which might remain. First, however, allow me to thank you, on behalf of our world, for your efforts, long ago, on behalf of our beloved officer, Zarendargar, efforts which obviously brought you into disrepute with your masters, the Priest-Kings of Gor."

"They are not my masters,” said Cabot.

"Surely no longer,” came from the device.

"Never,” said Cabot.

"Excellent,” said the device. “You recognize, of course, that they are your enemies."

"It seems so,” said Cabot.

"It is surely so,” came from the device. “You were put on the Prison Moon, though a free man, and a Warrior, naked, in full view, in shameful, close confinement, and in circumstances clearly designed to strain your honor, after the loss of which you would presumably be disposed of, and doubtless in a lengthy, unpleasant fashion."

"How did you come to know of such things?” asked Cabot.

"We have the benefit of informants,” came from the device.

"Spies,” said Cabot.

"If you like,” came from the device.

"Within the Sardar?"

"Unfortunately not, but Priest-Kings deal with humans and humans may deal with us."

Cabot nodded.

"Perhaps you may tell us of the interior precincts of the Sardar one day,” came from the device, “of the nature of Priest-Kings, and such."

"They are the gods of Gor,” said Cabot. “Who knows the nature of gods?"

"True,” came from the device, after a moment.

"Two females were enclosed with me,” said Cabot, “and both were free."

"Yes, free, how unfortunate,” said Agamemnon, either from within the device, or somehow, in communication with it.

"One,” said Cabot, “was a nasty, spoiled brat from England, though nicely faced and well-curved, who would make a nice slab of collar meat, suitably to be bid from the block, and the other was a pet, of Arcesilaus, whom I gather is an officer of yours, she, too, nicely faced and nicely curved."

"And would she not look well in a collar, as well?” inquired Agamemnon.

"Certainly,” said Cabot, “and she would bring a good price on Gor."

"With training,” said Peisistratus.

Blondes were rarer on Gor than brunettes, save in the northern latitudes, and tended to bring somewhat better prices, due to this rarity. Cabot himself preferred brunettes. The most desiderated hair coloring for a female slave on Gor, incidentally, is auburn.

"As we understand it,” said Agamemnon, “both of those females were of a sort likely to be sexually stimulating to a human male."

"Extremely so,” said Cabot.

"How cruel are the Priest-Kings,” said Agamemnon.

"I used neither,” said Cabot.

"Up to the point of your release,” said Agamemnon.

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"But let us suppose you had been held longer in captivity."

"Then, doubtless,” said Cabot, “I would have put both of them to my pleasure, variously and extensively so."

"Even though they were free?"

"Yes."

"As though they were of no more moment than slaves?"

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"I see,” said Agamemnon.

"I am, of course, grateful for my rescue,” said Tarl Cabot.

"It was our hope that you would be pleased,” said Agamemnon.

"I am, indeed,” said Cabot.

"I understand,” said Agamemnon, “you have been inadequately housed."

Cabot shrugged.

"Better quarters will soon be arranged,” said Agamemnon.

Cabot nodded. “My thanks,” he said.

"And my dear Peisistratus,” said Agamemnon, “you could, if need be, could you not, arrange for some feminine companionship for our friend, Tarl Cabot?"

"Certainly,” said Peisistratus. “By evening, I can send him a whip and a chain of ten beauties from the pleasure cylinder.” He turned to Cabot. “Do you want them stripped or clothed?"

"Clothed?” said Cabot.

"As slaves, of course,” said Peisistratus.

"Good,” said Cabot.

Female slaves on Gor, if garmented, are distinctively garmented, usually briefly and revealingly. That is the way men prefer it and, too, of course, they must under no circumstances be confused with free women, who are of course infinitely beyond them in dignity and worth. The slave is worth less than the dirt beneath the sandals of a free woman. Cabot supposed similar customs would obtain in the Steel Worlds. In this he was, of course, correct.

"But I am not yet ready to accept gifts,” said Tarl Cabot.

"How wise you are,” said Agamemnon. “Let us speak plainly."

"Please do,” said Cabot.

"You are perhaps aware of the experiment, whom you refer to, and we have followed your initiative in the matter, Grendel."

"Yes,” said Cabot.

"To us,” said Agamemnon, “he is hideous. Consider the nature of the pelt, the shape of the eyes, the tonalities of its utterance, the monstrosity of a five-digited hand."

"I have a five-digited hand,” said Cabot.

"Yes, but you are human,” said Agamemnon, “and what is appropriate for you is not appropriate for a different life form."

"It seems a small thing,” said Cabot.

"Not to Kurii,” said Agamemnon.

"I understand,” said Cabot.

"Some humans find the appearance of Kurii frightening,” said Agamemnon.

"That is true,” said Cabot.

"We hoped that Grendel might be acceptable to your species, being taken, in effect, as human, and might well serve us in our relationships with humans, as an intermediary."

Cabot said nothing.

"But, unfortunately,” said Agamemnon, “that seems not the case."

"No,” said Cabot.

"But he does seem human, does he not?"

"Not really,” said Cabot. “And certainly not in size, shape, and appearance."

"Doubtless he seems far more human to us than he does to you."

"That is quite possible,” said Cabot.

"In any event,” said Agamemnon, “human males tend to be uneasy in his presence, and human females cry out and withdraw, often screaming and sobbing, to the length of their chains."

Cabot nodded.

"So our experiment proved unsuccessful,” said Agamemnon, “and we realized we must rethink matters."

"You have human allies,” said Cabot.

"Some, surely,” said Agamemnon, “but not thousands, not armies."

"You wish armies?"

"Divisions, regiments,” said Agamemnon.

"To destroy Priest-Kings and seize Gor?"

"To free Gor,” said Agamemnon.

"I see."

"And to labor on behalf of humans, our oppressed brothers,” said Agamemnon, “to liberate them from the tyranny of Priest-Kings."

"It seems a noble endeavor,” said Cabot.

"Too,” said Agamemnon, “our human allies would not be forgotten in the morning of our victory, but would be well repaid for their efforts, efforts which, in large part, were exerted on their own behalf."

"You would assist humans in winning Gor?"

"Arms, direction, such things."

"I see."

"Kurii can be generous,” said Agamemnon.

"Riches?"

"Certainly."

"Gold, land, power, tharlarion, kaiila, women?” asked Cabot.

"Certainly,” said Agamemnon.

"A world?"

"Perhaps two,” said Agamemnon. “Once the Priest-Kings are destroyed, we would have two worlds at our disposal, one desirable, the other less so."

"Earth?"

"Yes."

"Gor, I take it,” said Cabot, “would be shared equally, its land, its riches, and such, all, equally, between Kurii and humans."

"Certainly,” said Agamemnon.

"How might I figure in these plans?” inquired Cabot.

"I see that you are interested,” said Agamemnon.

"Who would not be?"

"Kurii must be involved subtly in these campaigns, at least at first,” said Agamemnon. “The assistance, guidance, wisdom, direction, and counsel they provide must be veiled, at least at first. Humans must believe it is their battle, a battle waged to win their own freedom, a struggle to claim what has been denied to them, and is rightfully theirs, Gor."

"Such things have often taken place on Earth,” said Cabot, “though the collusion, the veiling, and such, has not been between species."

"On the Steel Worlds, as well,” said Agamemnon.

"Doubtless exploitation is common amongst rational beings,” said Cabot.

"Let us speak not of exploitation but of common interests, and brotherhood."

"And what would take place on this morning of victory?"

"Gor would belong not to Priest-Kings,” said Agamemnon, “but to humans."

"And Kurii?"

"We would expect some land to be set aside for us, to be reserved for our use,” said Agamemnon.

"I thought Gor was to be divided equally."

"We can do with harder countries than humans,” said Agamemnon, “with less arable soils, with wastelands, with mountainous areas, with desolate latitudes, arid and rocky, latitudes unfriendly to humans, with deserts, and such, areas of less interest to humans."

"The division then, even were it equal in extent, would seem much in the interests of humans,” said Cabot.

"Yes,” said Agamemnon.

"And what would be the relation betwixt Kurii and human on this freshly achieved world?"

"One of brotherhood, of universal peace, one of eternal harmony, of endless amity and good will."

"You need human leaders?"

"Precisely, such as yourself."

"And what, precisely, am I to gain in this?” asked Cabot.

"An excellent question,” said Agamemnon, “one I can well understand and appreciate, and one which reflects well on your caution and astuteness."

"I am grateful, of course,” said Cabot, “for my extrication from the power of Priest-Kings."

"We had hoped you would be."

"And what might I, personally, achieve in all this?"

"What would you say to being enthroned as the Ubar of all Gor?"

Cabot was startled.

"I see you are taken aback,” said Agamemnon.

"That is largess,” said Cabot, “difficult to ignore."

"We anticipated it would be so,” said Agamemnon.

"You wish to return me to Gor, with arms and power, with riches, to raise a revolution against Priest-Kings."

"Yes."

"I would speak of this with my friend, Zarendargar."

The metal tharlarion was silent.

"It was he, I gather,” said Cabot, “who engineered my rescue from the Prison Moon."

"Yes,” said Agamemnon.

"I would like to speak with him."

"Doubtless in time,” said Agamemnon. “I fear he is currently muchly occupied."

"I shared a stall, days ago, with a dark-haired slave,” said Cabot. “I returned to the stall and found her gone. Where is she?"

One of the Kurii flanking the metal object on the dais spoke softly to Agamemnon, or the machine through which he spoke.

The head of the metal object, heavy and broad, with a small sound, lifted itself a little, and the apertures behind which Cabot could detect no eyes, focused on him.

"She is well,” said Agamemnon.

"Has she been claimed?” asked Cabot.

"No,” said Peisistratus.

"I would see her,” said Cabot.

"Do you want her?” asked Peisistratus.

"I would see her."

"I can send you better women from the Pleasure Cylinder,” said Peisistratus, “naked, in sirik, with switches tied about their necks."

"I would see her,” said Tarl Cabot.

"By all means,” said Agamemnon. “And let her be a token of the goods and pleasures which might await you."

Peisistratus nodded.

"What is your decision, Tarl Cabot?” inquired Agamemnon. “Are you with us, or not?"

"I would like some time to consider the matter,” said Tarl Cabot.

"Of course,” said Agamemnon. “Such a decision should not be made lightly."

At this point the ponderous machine, with the small sound of rippling, overlapping plates, and the scratch of metallic claws on the dais, turned about, and left the room. Cabot saw the metal tail twisting slowly as it disappeared into the darkness.

The two Kurii then left the dais, and redrew the curtains behind them.

"Follow me,” said Peisistratus, turning about.