Assassin of Gor (10 page)

"Let me up," said Elizabeth. "Please."

Kusk twiddled a knob, and Elizabeth said "Please," once more and then it seemed she could hardly keep her eyes open, and then she closed her eyes and was asleep.

Kusk and I discussed various matters then for about an Ahn, primarily having to do with the extent to which the surveillance and control devices of the Nest had been restored since the Nest War, the increasing role of humans in the Nest, and the difficulties of working out a set of social arrangements mutually acceptable to species so disparate.

There was a tiny click and a small odor signal was emitted from the apparatus closed about Elizabeth's head. Kusk perked up his antennae and stalked over to the apparatus, switching it off. He moved back the two curved pieces, and I freed the girl of the bands and clips.

She opened her eyes.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"I fell asleep," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes, swinging her legs over the side of the table. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"That is all right," I assured her.

"I'm awake now," she said. "When can we start?"

"We are finished," said Kusk, the words coming, even-spaced, from his translator.

In his prehensile hooks, those on the right foreleg, he carried a sheet of plastic, on which was the Gorean alphabet, and some paragraphs in Gorean, in various scripts, some printed, some cursive.

"Read it," said Kusk.

"But its Gorean," said Elizabeth. "I can't read Gorean." She looked at the page, puzzled.

"What is that sign?" I asked, pointing to one.

A look of surprise came over her face, then almost of fear. "It is Al-Ka," she said, "the first letter of the Gorean alphabet."

"Read this sentence," I suggested.

"I can't read," she said.

"Sound it out," I said.

"But I can't read," she said.

"Try," I said.

Slowly, numbly, she began to make sounds, saying what came into her head. "The-first-born-of the Mother-was Sarm..." She looked at me. "But they are only noises."

"What do they mean?" I asked.

Suddenly she cried out, gasping. "The first born of the Mother was Sarm!" she cried.

"She is a very bright human," said Kusk. "Sometime it takes a quarter of an Ahn before the initial adjustments take place, basically the recognition that the sounds they spontaneously associate with the marks are actually the words of their language. In a short time she will easily read the marks as words, and not as mere patterns associated with arbitrary sounds. Her skills will grow. With some days of practice she will read Gorean as well as most Goreans; beyond this it is merely a question of interest and aptitude."

"When I look at it," said Elizabeth excitedly, holding the sheet of plastic, "I just know what the sounds are---I just know!"

"Of course," said Kusk, "but it grows near the Ahn of the fourth feeding. I, for one, could use a bit of fungus and water."

We left Elizabeth in the room and went to eat. She seemed too excited to accompany us and kept reading the plastic sheet over and over. That evening, having missed the fourth feeding, she returned late to the quarters I was sharing with Misk, a number of plastic scrolls in her arms which she had managed to borrow from various humans in the Nest. I had saved her a bit of fungus which she chewed on while sitting in the corner raptly unrolling a scroll. It was all I could do to keep her from reading the scroll out loud. Even so, she would interrupt us frequently by saying, "Listen to this!" and read some passage which seemed particularly telling.

"There is controversy among Priest-Kings," Kusk remarked, "as to whether or not humans should be taught to read."

"I can see why," said I.

But, as the days wore on, I, as well as Elizabeth, wished to leave the Nest.

In the last days, I spoke often with Misk of the difficulties connected with obtaining the last egg of Priest-Kings, in particular informing him that others had wished the egg as well, and had nearly acquired it, others who had had the technology to visit Earth, to seize and utilize humans for their purposes, as once had Priest-Kings.

"Yes," said Misk. "We are at war."

I leaned back.

"But it has been so for twenty thousand years," said Misk.

"And in that time you have not managed to bring the war to a successful conclusion?" I asked.

"Priest-Kings," said Misk, "unlike humans are not a aggressive organism. It is enough for us to have the security of our own territory. Moreover, those whom you call the Others no longer have their own world. It died with their sun. They live in a set of Master Ships, each almost an artificial planet in itself. As long as these ships remain outside the fifth ring, that of the planet Earthmen call Jupiter, the Goreans Hersius, after a legendary hero of Ar, we do not fight."

I nodded. Earth and Gor, I knew, shared the third ring.

"Would it not be safer if these Others were driven from the system?" I asked.

"We have driven them from the system eleven times," said Misk, "but each time they return."

"I see," I said.

"They will not close with us," said Misk.

"Will you attempt to drive them away again?" I asked.

"I doubt it," said Misk. "Such expeditions are extremely time-consuming and dangerous, and extremely difficult to carry through. Their ships have sensing devices perhaps the match of our own; they scatter; they have weapons, primitive perhaps, but yet effective at ranges of a hundred thousand pasangs."

I said nothing.

"For some thousands of years they have, except for continual probes, usually tests to prove the sex of their Dominants, remained beyond the fifth ring. Now, it seems they become more bold."

"The Others," I said, "surely could conquer Earth."

"We have not permitted it," said Misk.

I nodded. "I suspected as much," I said.

"It is within the fifth ring," pointed out Misk.

I looked at him in surprise.

His antennae curled in amusement. "Besides," said Misk, "we are not unfond of humans."

I laughed.

"Further," said Misk, "the Others are themselves a not uninteresting species, and we have permitted certain of them, prisoners taken from disabled probe ships, to live on this world, much as we have humans."

I was startled.

"They do not live in the same areas, on the whole, that humans do," said Misk. "Moreover, we insist that they respect the weapon and technology laws of Priest-Kings, as a condition for their permitted survival."

"You limit their technology levels just as you do humans?" I asked.

"Certainly," said Misk.

"But the Others of the ships," I said, "they remain dangerous."

"Extremely so," admitted Misk. Then his antennae curled. "Humans and the Others have much in common," said Misk. "Both depend much on vision; they can breathe the same atmospheres; they have similar circulatory systems; both are vertebrates; both have not unlike prehensile appendages; further," and here Misk's antennae curled, "both are aggressive, competitive, selfish, cunning, greedy, and cruel."

"Thank you," said I, "Misk."

Misk's abdomen shook and his antennae curled with delight. "You are welcome, Tarl Cabot," said he.

"And not all Priest-Kings," said I, "happen to be Misks, you know."

"I do, however," said Misk, "count the human, for all his faults, superior to those whom you call the Others."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"He commonly has an inhibition against killing," said Misk, "and moreover he has, infrequently it may be, the capacities for loyalty and community and love."

"Surely the Others have these things, too," I said.

"There is little evidence of that," said Misk, "though they do have Ship Loyalty, for their artificial mode of existence requires responsibility and discipline. We have noted that among the Others who have settled on Gor there has been, once out of the ship, a degeneration of interrelated roles, resulting in anarchy until the institution of authority resting on superior strength and fear." Misk looked down at me. "Even in the ships," he said, "killing is not discouraged except under conditions of battle or when the functioning of the vessel might be impaired."

"Perhaps," I said, "over the years it has become a way of controlling the population in a limited environment."

"Doubtless," said Misk, "but the interesting thing to Priest-Kings is that the Others, rational and advanced creatures presumably, have elected this primitive fashion of controlling their population."

"I wonder why," I said.

"They have chosen this way," said Misk.

"I looked down, lost in thought. "Perhaps," I said, "they feel it encourages martial skills, courage and such."

"It is rather," said Misk, "that they enjoy killing."

Neither Misk nor I spoke for some time.

"I gather," I said, "that the Others are far more numerous than Priest-Kings."

"A thousand times more so, at least," said Misk. "Yet, for twenty-thousand years we have stood them off, because of superior power."

"But," I said, "this power is severely curtailed following the Nest War."

"True," said Misk, "but we are rebuilding it. I think there is little immediate and gross danger, provided the enemy does not learn our current state of weakness." His antennae moved slowly, as though they were hands, reflecting thought. "There is some indication, however," he said, "that they suspect our difficulties."

"What are these?" I asked.

"The probes become increasingly frequent," said Misk. "Moreover, in line with their schemes, certain humans have been brought to this world."

"They acted boldly in the matter of attempting to interfere with the acquisition of the last egg of Priest-Kings," I pointed out.

"But largely through agents," said Misk.

"That is true," I admitted.

"Some information on the Nest War is surely available to them," said Misk, "carried by humans who were permitted to leave the Nest following the War." His antennae curled slightly. "But doubtless those whom you call the Others, being suspicious, much as your kind, suspect that this information is false, designed to lead them into a trap. It is fortunate for us that the Others are as sophisticated as they are. Were they simple barbarians, Gor and Earth would now be theirs."

"Perhaps they have seized some of these humans," I said, "and interrogated them, finding out if they tell the truth or not, by means of drugs or tortures."

"Even a drug or torture," pointed out Misk, "will only reveal what the individual believes to be the truth, not necessarily what the truth is. And, we suppose, the Others would suspect that only humans whose brains had been disposed to believe certain things, in virtue of our science, would be permitted to fall into their hands, once again as a move intended to draw them into a trap."

I shook my head.

"It is ironic," said Misk. "We could not now resist a general attack, nor protect Earth, but the Others will not believe it."

"Such," I said, "is the good fortune of Priest-Kings."

"And humans," said Misk.

"Agreed," I said.

"But the Others," said Misk, "are not inactive." He looked down at me. "Movements of probe ships appear to have been coordinated from the surface. It is possible the Others of the ships have made contact with those permitted to live on the planet, under our laws. Moreover, within the last five years, for the first time, the Others have made diplomatic contacts with humans." Misk's antennae suddenly focused intently on me. "It is apparently their intention," said he, "to acquire influence in cities, to win humans to their side, to equip and lead them in war on Priest-Kings."

I was startled.

"Why should they not use humans to fight their battles?" asked Misk. "The human, which exists in reasonably large numbers on Gor, is intelligent, can be taught much, and tends to be a war-like creature."

"But they would only use humans," I said.

"Certainly," said Misk. "Eventually humans would be used only as slaves and feed."

"Feed?" I asked.

"The Others," said Misk, "unlike Priest-Kings, are carnivorous."

"But the humans are rational creatures," I said.

"On the ships," said Misk, "humans, and certain other organic creatures, are raised for meat."

I said nothing.

"The Others," said Misk, "see humans, and most other creatures, either as feed or tools."

"They must be stopped," I said.

"If they manage, in time, to turn a sufficient number of men against us and to arm them even primitively, our world is lost."

"How far advanced are they in their project?" I inquired.

"As nearly as we can determine, through our agents, not far."

"Have you discovered the contact points," I asked, "from which they hope to extend their influence in the cities?"