"But even more importantly," I said, "insofar as you can, before her, and before any other free woman who might be in attendance upon her, conceal your sexuality. Do not let them suspect it. Let them think that you are as inert and meaningless as they are."

"That is common by slave girls before free women, Master," she said. "It does not take us long to learn that, once we are in the collar."

"I see," I said.

"But I do not think they are always fooled," she said.

"Perhaps not," I said.

"Even as long ago as in the house of Appanius," she said, "I was twice switched by free women who had come to see him on business."

"Do the best you can," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Seem to be merely a modest, deferential girl, demurely clad, awed perhaps, discharging your errand."

"Have no fear," she said, "but what I shall be awed in such a presence."

"She is only another woman," I said, "and if she were stripped and in a collar, she would be no different from you."

"Master!" protested the slave.

"Indeed, you might be first girl over her," I said.

"Please, Master!" she protested.

"It is true," I said.

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Another thing," I said. "I do not think it would be in your best interest for you to convey to her in any way, inadvertently or otherwise, even in feminine vanity, the hint, to be sure, the false hint, that there might be anything between you and the putative master of the note you bear."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You are to be only a humble messenger."

"Yes, Maser," she said.

"I would not wish for you to be cut to pieces, or boiled in oil," I said. "No, Master," she said.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

It seemed to me that tears had sprung afresh in the eyes of the slave.

"No more need I fear, Master," she said, "that I might be of interest to he who is to be the supposed author of the note in question. Now I am only a lowly slave. At best I could expect only to be spurned by his foot from his path."

"I see," I said.

"But I would be grateful to him," she said, "for even so small a touch."

"I see," I said.

"I would kiss the unstrapped, discarded sandal that had kicked me."

"You may move," said I, "Lavinia," for that was the name I had kept on her. She then, released from the enforced, tense quiescence I had imposed upon her, clutched me gratefully, sobbing with relief and joy. In a few moments she wept. "I yield me, Master!" and I then held her like iron and cried out with joy and she sobbed "I am helpless and taken!" and Phoebe, too, in the arms of Marcus, cried out, herself as well taken, and he, too, uttered a wild cry and a then sudden, low, satisfying growl, and the sounds of Phoebe and Marcus and of Lavinia and myself mingled in the tiny room and it had been done to the slaves once more.

"I am yours," said Phoebe to Marcus.

"I am subjugated, and am your slave, Master," said Lavinia to me.

"Tomorrow," I said, "our project begins."

"Yes, Master," she said.

"You will obey," I informed her.

"Yes, Master," she said. "Your slave will obey."

21 I Receive the Report of a Slave

"I am terrified, Master!" said Lavinia.

I thrust her into our small room, in the insula of Torbon, on Demetrios Street, in the Metellan district, and closed the door behind us.

"How went it?" I asked.

"I am frightened!" she said.

"Why?" I asked.

"How dare I be seen before him," she asked, "As what I am now, a slave!"

"You will be in the modest livery of a state slave," I said, "nor even belled."

"I am frightened," she said.

"Put off the cloak," I said.

She put to one side the cloak which she had clutched about her, concealing her garment of white wool and the collar on her neck. To be sure, her exposed calves and bared feet had left no doubt in the streets as to her status.

"I would not even dare to lift my eyes to his, to look into his eyes," she moaned.

"You must do so, if he commands it," I said.

"Yes, Maser," she said, in a misery.

"But it may not be necessary," I said.

"Yes, Master!" she said.

"Change your clothing," I said, "quickly."

She drew off the modest garment of white wool, and, then, just for an instant, perhaps hardly even aware of it, she stood before me, naked, and looked at me.

"Vain slave!" I laughed.

She blushed, and quickly put down the garment of white wool, and fetched the gray garment of the state slave.

I smiled.

Well had she displayed in that brief moment her master's property.

In an instant she had drawn down the tunic of the state slave over her head and was smoothing it down about her hips.

I regarded her.

She stood before me.

"Excellent," I said.

She smiled.

I then fetched the collar, designed to resemble a state collar, from the flat leather box. I went behind her and locked it on her neck, above the Appanius collar. She now wore two collars. I then removed the Appanius collar from her neck. In this way there was no moment in which she was not in at least one collar.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked.

"No," she said. "I hardly know what I am doing, or where I am."

"Kneel," I said.

Chronometers exist on Gor, but they are rare and valuable. Marcus and I did not have any, of intent, at the time, among our belongings. They would not have seemed to fit in well with our guise as auxiliary guardsmen. In many cities, of course, including Ar, time tends to be kept publicly. Official clocks are adjusted, of course, according to the announcements of scribes, in virtue of various astronomical measurements, having to do with the movements of the sun and stars. The calendar, and adjustments in it, are also the results of their researches, promulgated by civil authorities. The average Gorean has a variety of simple devices at his disposal for marking the passage of time. Typical among them are marked, or calibrated, candles, sun dials, sand glasses, clepsydras and oil clocks.

She was breathing deeply.

I sat down, cross-legged, opposite her.

"Master, too, seems apprehensive," she said. "Forgive me, Master."

"Catch your breath," I said.

"Thank you, Master," she said.

She had not neglected to have her knees in proper position. She was, after all, before a free man.

We must soon to the theater of Pentilicus Tallux, the great theater, which was more than two pasangs away.

"I am frightened," she said.

"How went it?" I asked.

At this point the eleventh bar rang.

"It is only the eleventh bar," she said, gratefully.

"Yes," I said.

She closed her eyes in relief.

"You are frightened, aren't you?" I said.

"Yes," she whispered.

She was entitled to be frightened, I supposed. She was, after all, only a slave. "Why are you frightened?" I asked.

"Because of he before whom I must shortly appear, and as only a slave!"

"Ah, yes," I said. I myself would have thought her terror might more plausibly have been motivated by what had occurred earlier this morning.

"Tell me of what occurred in the Central Cylinder," I said.

"It was much as you had anticipate," she said. "I approached the Central Cylinder. I knelt before the guards, my head down. The capped message tube even touched the stones. I looked up. I made known my errand, that I bore a private message emanating from the house of Appanius for the Ubara. They read my collar. It seemed then surely that I was a girl of Appanius. The guards were skeptical that I would be admitted. However, to their surprise, I was to be permitted to enter the presence of the Ubara."

"That the message might emanate from a particular person in the house of Appanius, and presumably not Appanius himself, who would not be likely to have any direct business with the Ubara," I said, "was what gained your admittance. The Ubara would suspect, and perhaps even hope, from whom the message might come. Too, of course, that the message was considered «private» would tend not only to confirm her suspicions, but to excite and intrigue her."