John Norman - Beasts of Gor

She put her head down, trembling, frightened, an instinctive gesture for a slave.

“You are a slave,” I said. “I can tell.”

She looked up at me, frightened.

“Perhaps it would be well for you to ask permission before you speak in the presence of free men,” I said.

She put her head down.

“She would look well naked, on an auction block,” said Drusus.

“Yes,” I said.

“What shall we do now?” he asked.

At that moment the large steel door, through which I had entered the room shut. It must have been done automatically. We saw no one. The wheel on our side of the door, bummed and spun, locking the door. At the same time, from the ceiling, a filtering of white, smoky gas began to descend.

“Hold your breath!” I cried. I leveled the, dart-firing weapon I carried at the door, and pressed the firing switch. The dart, like an insidious bird, sped to the steel, smoking, and pierced its outer layer. An instant later, as I flung myself downward, near the girl, Drusus with me, there was a ripping of steel which tore at my eardrums. I gestured the others to their feet, and, together, we ran through the smoke and gas to the door. It lay twisted, half wrenched from its hinges, half melted. We lowered our heads and slipped through the opening. The girl screamed as the hot metal brushed her calf. We were then free in the hall. Some eight Kurii were hurrying toward us.

Drusus lifted his weapon, calmly. A dart hissed forth. The first Kur stopped and then, suddenly, burst apart. Another reeled away from him. Another tore the blood and flesh from his face, half blinded, roaring with fury. A dart hissed above our heads and rent in its explosion the metal behind us. I fired a dart and another Kur spun about hideously, scratching at the metal, and then, before our eyes, erupted as though it had engorged a bomb. The six Kurii remaining, one with an arm dragging on the floor, hung to its body by torn shreds of muscle, scrambled backwards, snarling. Then they disappeared about a corner.

“Hurry!” I cried.

We sped forward, and, at the first branching in the corridor, turned left.

We had no desire to again encounter the Kurii.

Scarcely had we left our original corridor than we heard a great slam of steel. Looking backward we saw that it had been sealed.

“Let us move quickly,” I suggested.

We hurried up a flight of stairs.

We saw no one.

We began to ascend another flight of stairs. Near its top the girl stumbled and fell, bound, rolling, down several steps. She was bruised and sobbing.

I took her in my arms.

“Did you see the beasts!” she cried. “What are they?”

“They are those whom you served,” I informed her.

“No!” she cried.

“But you will now serve others, pretty slave,” I told her.

She looked at me with horror.

I threw her over my shoulder and ascended the stairs.

“Who goes there!” cried a man. Then he spun away from us, rolling and spattering backward.

“The way is now clear,” said Drusus. “Let us hurry.”

Another steel panel slammed down behind us. The siren then began to whine in the steel halls.

“Perhaps there was no destructive device,” said Drusus.

“I know where it is now,” I said. “We have been fools! Fools!”

“Where?” he asked, puzzled.

“Beyond the reach of slaves, beyond the scope of the monitoring devices,” I cried. “Where no one may reach, where no one may see!”

“We have journeyed already to the termination of the slave track,” he said.

“Where do all the slave tracks terminate?” I asked.

“All?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“In the center of the complex,” he said.

“At the chamber of Zarendargar,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“I have seen that chamber,” I said. “It contains monitors, but it itself is not monitored.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes!”

“Where but in the chamber of the high Kur would lie that terrifying mechanism?”

“Where no one may reach, where no one may see,” he said.

“Saving Zarendargar, Half-Ear, himself,” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“We have failed,” said Drusus.

I nodded in agreement. The strange common project of two men, of diverse and antagonistic, yet strangely similar castes, an Assassin and a Warrior, had failed.

“What is now to be done?” he asked.

“We must attempt to reach the chamber of Zarendargar,” I said.

“It is hopeless,” he said.

“Of course,” I said. “But I must attempt it. Are you with me?”

“Of course,” he said.

“But you are of the Assassins,” I said.

“We are tenacious fellows,” he smiled.

“I have heard that,” I said.

“Do you think that only Warriors are men?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I have never been of that opinion.”

“Let us proceed,” he said.

“I thought you were too weak to be an Assassin,” I said.

“I was once strong enough to defy the dictates of my caste,” he said. “I was once strong enough to spare my friend, though I feared that in doing this I would myself be killed.”

“Perhaps you are the strongest of the dark caste,” I said.

He shrugged.

“Let us see who can fight better,” I said.

“Our training is superior to yours,” he said.

“I doubt that,” I said. “But we do not get much training dropping poison into people’s drinks.”

“Assassins are not permitted poison,” he said proudly.

“I know,” I said.

“The Assassin,” he said, “is like a musician, a surgeon. The Warrior is like a butcher. He is a ravaging, bloodthirsty lout.”

“There is much to what you say,” I granted him. “But Assassins are such arid fellows. Warriors are more genial, more enthusiastic.”

“An Assassin goes in and does his job, and comes out quietly,” he said. “Warriors storm buildings and burn towers.”

“It is true that I would rather clean up after an Assassin than a Warrior,” I said.

“You are not a bad fellow for a Warrior,” he said.

“I have known worse Assassins than yourself,” I said.

“Let us proceed,” he said.

“Agreed,” I said. We, together, I carrying the girl, made our way up another flight of stairs.

“Wait,” I said.

“Yes” he said.

“The most obvious approaches to the chamber of Zarendargar,” I said, “will probably be heavily guarded. Thus, let us circle about and climb upward. Perhaps we can eventually cut through from the level above.”

“For a warrior,” he said, “you are not totally without cunning.”

“We have our flashes of inspiration,” I informed him.

We climbed up two more levels. Then we began to circle about, far to our right. We wanted another stairway, one more remote, to ascend yet higher.

We had scarcely attained the second level than we heard the cry, “Halt!”

Drusus spun and fired a dart, swiftly, from the hip. Men scattered. The dart caromed off a wall and exploded near them. We darted about the corner of a wall. Four darts hissed past, exploding in a succession of bursts some fifty yards from us. I threw the girl from my shoulder to my feet. We heard running feet, coming from another direction. We looked wildly about. I took the girl at my feet by the hair and yanked her to her feet. We then ran, I running the girl beside me, at my hip, to the nearest corridor.

“This is an outer corridor,” said Drusus. “In it are doors to the outside.”

We sped along the corridor. We heard feet behind us, coming down the corridor we had just vacated. Then, ahead of us, some two hundred yards away, we saw some more men.

We continued to run.

I looked back. The men behind us now seemed wary. They were not ready, apparently, to pursue us into this corridor. Similarly, the fellows in front of us, apparently trapping us, did not try to approach.