flat rock on which it rested. I bent down and scooped up, as my father had asked, a handful of our green earth. I, too, felt that it was important to take
something with me, something which, in a way, was my native soil. The soil of my planet, my world.
I remembered nothing from the time I'd boarded the silver disc in the mountains of New Hampshire until now. I awoke, feeling rested, and opened my
eyes, half expecting to see my room in the alumni house at the college. I turned my head, without pain or discomfort. I seemed to be lying on some hard,
flat object, perhaps a table, in a circular room with a low ceiling some seven feet high. There were five narrow windows, not large enough to let a man
through; they rather reminded me of ports for bowmen in a castle tower, yet they admitted sufficient light to allow me to recognise my surroundings.
Tarnsman of Gor, page 20-21
What of the ship that brought me here?' I asked. 'Surely that is a mervellous example of your technology?
'Not of our technology, but of that of the Priest-Kings,' he said. 'I do not believe the ship was manned by any of the Men Below the Mountains.'
'By Priest-Kings?' I asked.
'Frankly,' said my father, 'I believe the ship was remotely controlled from the Sardar Mountains, as are said to be all the Voyages of Acquisition.'
'Yes,' said my father. 'And long ago I made the same strange journey. As have others.'
'But for what end, to what purpose?' I demanded.
'Each perhaps for a different end, for each perhaps a different purpose,' he said. Tarnsman of Gor, page 32
On this ship of acquisition a slave girl taken from Earth will be brought to Gor. She is but one among many and we also realie that there are many that
work to furnish Gor with slavegirls from Earth, what they consider to be, the "Slave World".
"You will be placed in that, head first, gagged, and bound, hand and foot," said Teibar, "but, even if you were not bound, it would be very difficult for you,
because of the tightness and narrowness of the sack, to do more than wiggle a little."
I tried to rise up but a conical, stiff, rubberized mask was thrust over my nose and mouth, and, by means of it, I was pushed back on the table. Taurog
held my wrists, pinning me back on the table´s surface. Hercon held my ankles. I struggled. My eyes must have been wild over the mask. Teibar poured
some fluid from a small bottle into an opening, or through a porous mesh, at the apex of the mask. He held it firmly over my nose and mouth.
"Steady, steady, little slut," said Teibar, soothingly. "There is no use to struggle. Your struggles will avail you not in the least."
I tried to fight the mask but I could not. I was held. I was held, helplessly. My strength, that of a woman, was nothing to theirs, that of men. I wondered
what might be the meaning of that, in a natural world.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar.
I tried to move my head, but, because of the tightness of the mask, over my nose and mouth, and how he held it on me, pressing it down upon me, I
could not. I tried to hold my breath. I felt a drop of liquid, and then a trickle of liquid, run on the bridge of my nose, and then its way down my right cheek.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar, soothingly.
I fought to hold my breath.
Hercon said something.
"Come now," said Teibar, to me, "you are disappointing Hercon."
I looked up at him, wildly.
"Breathe deeply," he said. "You do not wish to disappoint Hercon. Taurog too, was so proud of you. You would not wish to disappoint him, too, would
you? Not after you did so well, in the matter of the chain. The time will come, I assure you, when (pg. 50) you will be extremely concerned that you not
disappoint men in any way, in the least."
I sudden coughed, half choking, in the mask. I gasped in air, plaintively, eagerly, desperately, in those tiny, hot confines. There was a closeness, an
oppressiveness within them.
"Good," said Teibar. "Now, breathe slowly, regularly, deeply."
I looked up at him over the tight rubber rim of the mask.
"Surely you understand that resistance is useless," he said.
I sobbed. My eyes were bright with tears. I breathed in, deeply.
"Good," said Teibar. "Good."
It seemed there was a kind of heaviness inside the mask. It was not a strangling sensation and then, with my first gasp for air, an obliteration of
consciousness, almost like a blow. This was quite different. It was patient, slow and gentle. I breathed in and out, deeply, slowly, regularly, in misery.
Too, of course, it would be relentless and implacable.
"Good," said Teibar.
Hercon released my ankles. I sluggishly, groggily, moved my feet. I felt the anklet with my right foot, and tried weakly to push it from my ankle, but, of
course, it was useless. It only hurt the side of my right foot a little, and the inside of my left ankle. it was on me. I could not remove it. It was there, on
me, until someone else, not me, might want it off. I was "ankleted," whatever that meant.
"Breathe deeply," said Teibar. "Good. Good."
Taurog released my wrists. He put my hands at my sides. I could not lift them.
"Deeply, deeply," said Teibar, soothingly.
I felt a key thrust into the lock on the collar I wore. It was then removed from me. I was dimly conscious of Taurog coiling the chain and replacing it in the
"Struggle now, if you wish," said Teibar, "slut."
But I could scarcely move. I could not raise my arms. I could not even bring my hands to the mask, and had I been able to do so, I would have been too
weak to push it away. About the peripheries of my vision it seemed dark. It was hot under the tight mask. I felt another drop of liquid within the mask.
Dancer of Gor, page 49-50
Humans are brought to Gor to work as agents for the Priest-Kings, Tarl Cabot
and his father are two of them. Here, Tarl recounts what he experienced on his
trip to Gor.
I saw the ship descend. For a moment it looked like a falling star, but then
it suddenly became clear and substantial, like a broad, thick disc of silver. It
was silent and settled on the rock platform, scarcely disturbing the light
snow that was scattered on it. There was a slight wind in the pine needles,
and I rose to my feet. As I did so, a door in the side of the ship slid quietly
upward. I must go in. My father's words recurred in my memory : 'The fate
is upon you.' Before entering the ship, I stopped at the side of the large,
|This research is done on the series of books written by John Norman, the comments in italics are mine and my point of view.
Woman of Gor