John Norman: Captive of Gor

He stepped behind me and tore open the top button of my black, bare-midriff blouse. I felt a small key being inserted into the small, heavy lock. The collar sprung open.

"You will doubtless have another," he said. He handed the collar to another man, who took it away.

He regarded me.

I still clutched the handbag.

"Let me go," I whispered. "I have money. Here. And jewelry. And much more. It's yours. Please."

I fumbled in the handbag and thrust the bills and the jewelry into his hands. He handed the bills and jewelry to another man. He did not want them. The men now began to bring, not gently, certain large, square boxes from the truck, which they placed near the large, open hatch on the ship.

I clutched my handbag in my right hand, half-opened. Sick.

The large man took my left hand and removed the wristwatch from it. "You will not need this," he said. He handed the watch to another man. The time was five forty-two.

The men unloading the truck began to unsnap the sides of the large wooden boxes placed near the open hatch on the ship.

I watched in horror.

Inside each, secured with heavy straps and buckles, attached to rings in the box, was a girl. Each was unclothed. Each was unconscious. Each was gagged. Each wore a collar.

The men freed the girls, removing from them the gags and collars, and fastening on the left ankle of each what appeared to be a steel band.

They were then carried, unconscious, into the ship.

I screamed and turned to run. A man clutched at me. My hand tore the butcher knife from my handbag and I slashed wildly at him. He cried out in pain, holding his cut, bloody sleeve. I stumbled and got up to run. But they were all about me, encircling me. I raised the knife to strike at them, wildly. Then I seemed my whole hand and wrist and arm was struck with some fantastic, numbing shock. The knife fell from my fingers. I sobbed with the pain. One of the men picked up the knife. Another took me by the arm and dragged me back before the large man. I was hunched over, and looked up at him, sobbing, tears in my eyes. The large man replaced a small implement in his jacket pocket. It resembled a pocket flashlight. But the beam that had struck me I had not seen.

"The pain will not last long," the man informed me.

"Please," I begged him. "Please."

"You were superb," he said.

I looked at him, numbly.

The man whom I had slashed with the knife stood behind him, holding his arm, grinning.

"Have your arm attended to," said the large man. The other grinned again and turned away, going toward the truck.

One of the men from the dark, disklike shape, the smaller one, which had followed me, approached. "There is little time," he said.

The large man nodded. But he did not seem perturbed, nor hurried.

He looked at me, carefully. "Stand straight," he said, not ungently. I tried to stand straight. My arm still felt paralyzed from the shock. I could not move my fingers.

He touched the bloodied cut on my belly, where the branch had struck me. Then, with his hand, he lifted my head, turning it, looking at the cut on my cheek. "We are not pleased," he said.

I said nothing.

"Bring salve," he said.

An ointment was brought, and he smeared it across the two cuts. It was odorless. To my surprise it seemed to be absorbed almost immediately.

"You must be more careful," he said.

Again I said nothing. "You might have marked yourself," he said, "or might have been blinded." He returned the ointment to another man. "They are superficial," he told me, "and will heal without trace."

"Let me go!" I cried. "Please! Please!"

"There is little time, little time!" urged the man in the black tunic. "Bring her handbag," said the large man, calmly. It was brought to him, from whence it had fallen when I had tried to escape.

He looked at me.

"Perhaps you are interested in knowing how you were followed?" he asked. I nodded, numbly.

From the handbag he extracted an object.

"What is this?" he asked.

"My compact," I told him.

He smiled, and turned it over. He unscrewed the bottom. Inside there was a tiny cylinder, fused to a round, circular plate, covered with tiny, copperish lines. "This device," he said, "transmits a signal, which can be picked up by our equipment at a distance of one hundred miles." He smiled. "A similar such device," he said, "was concealed beneath your automobile."

I sobbed.

"It will be dawn in six Ehn," said the man in the tunic. I could see that there was a lightness in the east.

I could see that there was a lightness in the east.

I did not understand what he said.

The large man nodded at the man in the black tunic. The man in the black tunic then lifted his arm. The small disklike ship then slowly lifted and moved toward the large ship. A port in the large ship slid upward. The small ship moved inside. I could briefly see men, in black tunics, inside, fastening it to plates in a steel flooring. Then the port slid shut again. The remains of the boxes had now been replaced in the truck. Here and there, about the clearing, men were moving about, gathering up equipment. They placed these things in the truck. I could now move my arm and, barely, the fingers of my hand. "But your ship," I said, "the small one, could not seem to find me." "It found you," he said.

"The light," I said, "it couldn't catch me."

"You think it was misfortune that you stumbled into our camp? he asked. I nodded, miserably.

He laughed.

I looked at him, with horror.

"The light," he said, "You ran always to avoid it."

I moaned.

"You were herded here,"

I cried out with misery.

He turned to a subordinate. "Have you brought Miss Brinton's anklet?" The subordinate then handed him an anklet. I could see that it was steel. It was open. It had a hinged catch.

Then I stood before them as I had, in the tan slacks, in the black, bare-midriff blouse, save that I now wore a steel anklet.

"Observe," said the large man, indicating the black ship. As I watched it, it seemed that lights began to flicker on its surface, and then it seemed that tendrils of light began to interweave across its steel, and, before my eyes, it began to change color, turning a grayish blue, streaked with white. I could now see the first streak of light in the east.

"This is a technique of field-light camouflage," said the large man. "It is primitive. The radar-screening device, within, is more sophisticated. But the light camouflage technique has considerably reduced sightings of our craft. Further, of course, we do little more, normally, with the large craft then arrive and depart, at given points. The smaller craft is used more extensively, but normally only at night, and in isolated areas. It, too, incidentally, is equipped for light-camouflage and radar-screening."

I understood very little of what he said. "Shall we strip her?" asked one of the subordinates.

"No," said the large man.

The large man stepped behind me. "Shall we go to the ship?" he asked. I did not move.

I turned to face him.

"Hurry!" called the man in the black tunic, from within the large ship. "Dawn in two Ehn!"

"Who are you? What do you want?" I begged.

"Curiosity," he said, " is not becoming in a Kajira."

I stared at him.

"You might be beaten for it," he said.

"Hurry! Hurry!" cried the man in the black tunic. "We must make rendezvous!" "Please," invited the large man, gesturing to the ship with one hand. Numbly I turned and preceded him to the ship. At the foot of the ramp I trembled.

"Hurry, Kajira," said he, gently.

I ascended the steel ramp. I turned. He was standing back on the grass. "In your time," he said, "dawn occurs at this meridian and latitude, on this day, at six sixteen."