"I am lonely, I am neglected, I am in need," I said. "My master cares more for his business than for his slave."

"I am sorry," he said.

"You are strong, and a male," I said, looking up, "and I am small, and weak, and a female, and am in need."

He said nothing.

"I would tie the bondage knot in my hair for you," I said. "Are you soliciting the touch of a man who is not your master?" he asked. "Oh, no Master!" I said, quickly.

He smiled.

"Do you scorn me for my helplessness?" I asked.

"No," he said.

"You are kind to a slave," I whispered.

"In any event," he said, "you wear the iron belt."

"Master," I said, quickly, quietly. "It is for such a reason that I have knelt before you. My master, in his anger, and in his preoccupation with his business, when he put the belt on me, neglected to remove the key for the lock. It is still there. I have felt it from behind my back."

"Oh?" he said, interested.

"Yes!" I whispered.

"He must, indeed, have been preoccupied," he said.

"He was angry, too," I said. "He stripped me, put the belt on me and sent me on an errand, from the house. I do not think he was much paying attention to what he was doing." This seemed to me the weakest part of the story, that a Gorean master might neglect to remove a key from a lock. Such things are commonly done by habit, if nothing else. I did have an errand capsule, a capped, narrow leather cylinder, such as may be used for carrying notes, messages, and such, on a string about my neck, the string over my collar.

"The belt then could be easily removed from you," said the fellow, "and later replaced."

"Yes," I said.

I could see that he was interested in me. I had been found desirable, apparently extremely so. To be sure, a key could be left in a lock. Such things could happen. Should a fellow question such luck?

" I do not own you," he said.

"Do so," I said, "for an Ahn."

"There is no place," he said.

"Take me into the alleyway," I said. "Spill garbage, or refuse, upon the stones, for I am a slave and am worth less than even it, and have no value lest it be to serve a master, and put me upon it. Make that my bed."

"My cloak, doubled, will do," he smiled.

"Enfold me then within it," I said, "as though within your arms, that I may then within its enclosing warmth, as though within the confines of a cell, tender my woman" s submission to your maleness."

I then, slowly, gracefully, kneeling before him, looking up at him, tied the bondage know in my hair, it then hanging beside my right cheek.

"Precede me into the alley," he said, kindly.

I rose, gracefully, and did so. I would rather he had not been so concerned for me. I remembered he knife of my master" s man, the point entered ever so slightly into my belly, the edge of the knife turned in such a way that I knew it could open me like a larma.

He spread the cloak, doubled, on the stones of the alleyway. I knelt upon it, and put my hands, clasped, behind the back of my head. I hoped that my master" s men had gone elsewhere. He reached about me, as I pressed myself against him, troubled, and I felt him turn the key in the lock. In a moment, the belt was laid aside.

"You are open," he announced."Yes, Master," I said.

"You are very beautiful," he said.

Thank you, Master," I said.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"No, Master," I said.

"Do we have much time?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"How long is your errand?" he asked.

"I do not know, Master," I said.

"What is its nature?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"It is doubtless written on a paper, inside the errand capsule," he said. "Yes, Master," I said.

"To whom were you to report, for the conduct of the errand?" he asked. "Who was to read the message?"

"He who was designated by my master" s men," I said.

"Do you know his name?" he asked.

"No," I said.

"But you do know to whom you were supposed to deliver it?" he asked. "Yes, Master," I said.

"When do you expect to deliver it?" he asked.

"I have already done so," I said.

"You are returning from your errand?" he said.

"I am in the midst of it, Maser," I said.

"I do not understand," he said.

"The message is for you," I said.

He looked at me, puzzled. He then uncapped the errand capsule, and took out the bit of rolled paper. He unrolled it, and read it. He leaped to his feet, turning, but already they were upon him. They pummeled him savagely. Then he lay crumpled at their feet.

"Forgive me, Master," I said.

"Get the belt back on," said one of my master" s men.

"Yes, Master," I said. The key was again left in the lock. The paper which had been extracted from the errand capsule was then rerolled, and thrust in the capsule, and the capsule again capped. The message read, I have been told, "You have been captured."

"Another for the black chain of Ionicus," said one of my master" s men, Ionicus was a master of work chains. He ahd several, the "red chain," the "green china," "the yellow chain," and so on, each of which boasted several hundred men. Supposedly these were free work chains, «free» in the sense of not utilizing slaves. Goreans generally do not employ slaves for such labors as road construction, siege works, raising walls, and so on. Similarly they generally would not use them for the construction of temples and public buildings. Most such work is generally done by the free labor of a given community, though this "free labor" may, upon occasion, particularly in emergencies, be "levied," the laborers then contributing their labor as a form of special tax, or, if you like, «conscripted» or "drafted," rather as if for military service. Usually, of course, the free labor is paid, and with more than provisions and shelter, either from public or private funds. Any city in which free laborers tended to be systematically robbed of their employments in virtue of imbonded competition would doubtless be inviting discontent, and perhaps, eventually, revolution. Besides, the free laborers share a Home Stone with the aristocracies of these cities, the upper castes, the higher families, the richer families, and so on. Accordingly, because of this commonality of the Home Stone, love of their city, the sharing of citizenship, and such, there is generally a harmonious set of economic compromises obtaining the labor force, in general. Happily, most of these compromises are unquestioned matters of cultural tradition. They are taken for granted, usually, by all the citizens, and their remote origins, sometimes doubtless the outcome of internecine strife, of class war, of street fighting and riots, of bloody, house-to-house determinations in the past, and such, are seldom investigated, save perhaps by historians, scribes of the past, some seeking, it seems, to know the truth, for its own sake, others seemingly seeking lessons in the rich labyrinths of history, in previous human experience, what is to be emulated, and what is to be avoided. Some think that out of such crises came the invention of the Home Stone. There are, of course, several mythical accounts of the origin of the Home Stone. One popular account has it that an ancient hero, Hesius, once performed great labors for Priest-Kings, and was promised a reward greater than gold and silver. He was given, however, only a flat piece of rock with a single character inscribed on it, the first letter in the name of his native village. He reproached the Priest-Kings with their niggardliness, and what he regarded as their breach of faith. He was told, however, that what they gave him was indeed worth far more than gold and silver, that it was a "Home Stone." He returned to his native village, which was torn with war and strife. He told the story there, and put the stone in the market place. "Of the Priest-Kings say this is worth more than gold and silver," said a wise man, "it must be true." "Yes," said the people. "Ours," responded Hesius. Weapons were then laid aside, and peace pledged. The name of the village was "Ar." It is generally accepted in Gorean tradition that the Home Stone of Ar is the oldest Home Stone on Gor.