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.He did notpermit her to take the seat by the desk.Rather he told her to stand and straighten herself.He seemed to scorn herposture.Angry, she nevertheless did so until, embarrassed, she stoodinsolently erect before him.His eyes regarded her ankles with care, and thenher calves and she was acutely aware, blushing, that standing as she did, sostraight before him, the simple yellow, oxford-cloth shift ill concealed herthighs, the flatness of her belly, the loveliness of her figure."Lift yourhead," he said, and she did, her chin high, the lovely, angry head set proudlyon her aristocratic delicate neck.He then backed away from her.She turned to face him, eyes flashing."Do not speak," he said.Her fingers went white with anger, clutching the steno pad and pencil.He gestured to the far side of the room."Walk there," he said, "and return.""I will not," she said."Now," said the man.Elizabeth had looked, tears almost in her eyes, at the department head, but heseemed suddenly to her soft, pudgy, distant, sweating, nothing.He noddedhastily, "Please, MissCardwell, do as he says.".l l._file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%204%20-%20Nomads%20of%20Gor.txt (32 of 238) [1/20/03 3:28:26 AM]Page 31 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlfile:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%204%20-%20Nomads%20of%20Gor.txt1.@-.'3~,~.i.,,,~, 48 NOMADS OF GORElizabeth faced the tall, strange man.She was breathing rapidly now.She feltthe pencil clutched in her sweating hand.Then it broke."Now," said the man.Looking at him she suddenly had the feeling, a strange one, that this man, insome circumstances and for some purpose or another, had assessed and judgedmany women.This infuriated her.It seemed to her a challenge that she would accept.She would show him a womanindeed allowing herself for the instant to be insolently and fully femaleshowing him in her walk her contempt and scorn for him.She would then leave and go directly to the personnel office, tendering herresignation.She threw back her head."Very well," she said.AndElizabeth Cardwell walked proudly, angrily, to the far side of the room,wheeled there, faced the man, and approached him, eyes taunting, a smile ofcontempt playing about her lips.She heard the department head quickly suck inhis breath She did not take her eyes from the tall, strange man."Are you satisfied," she asked, quietly, acidly."Yes," he had said.She remembered then only turning and starting for the door, and a sudden,peculiar odor, penetrating, that seemed to close about her face and head.She had regained consciousness on the Plains of Gor.She bad been dressedprecisely as she had been the morning she had gone to work save that about herthroat she had found sewn a 0th, thick leather collar.She had cried out, shehad wandered.Then, after some hours "tumbling confused, ter-rified, hungry through the high, brown grass, she had seen two riders, mountedon swift, strange beasts.They had seen her.She called to them.Theyapproached her cautiously, in a large circle, as though examining the grassfor enemies, or others."I'm Elizabeth Cardwell," she had cried."My home is inNew York City.What place is this? Where am 1?" And then she has seen thefaces, and had screamed."Position," said Kamchak.I spoke sharply to the girl."Be as you were before."Terrified the girl straightened herself and again, knees placed, back straightand head 0th, knelt before us in thefile:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%204%20-%20Nomads%20of%20Gor.txt (33 of 238) [1/20/03 3:28:26 AM]file:///F|/rah/John%20Norman/Chronicles%20of%20Counter-Earth%204%20-%20Nomads%20of%20Gor.txt position of the Pleasure Slave.'the collar," said Kamchak, "is Turian."Kutaituchik nodded.This was news to me, and I welcomed it, for it meant that probably, somehow,the answer to at least a part of the mystery which confronted me lay in thecity of Turia.But how was it that Elizabeth Cardwell, of Earth, wore aPage 32 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlTurian message collar?Kamchak drew the quiva from his belt and approached the girl.She looked athim wildly, drawing back."Do not move," I told her.Kamchak set the blade of the quiva between the girl's throat and the collarand moved it, the leather collar seeming to fall from the blade.The girl's neck, where the collar had been sewn, was red and sweaty, brokenout.Kamchak returned to his place where he again sat down cross-legged, puttingthe cut collar on the rug in front of him.I and Kutaituchik watched as he carefully spread open the collar, pressingback two edges.Then, from within the collar, he drew forth a thin, foldedpiece of paper, rence paper made from the fibers of the rence plant, a tall,long-stalked leafy plant which grows predominantly in the delta of theVosk.I suppose, in itself, this meant nothing, but I naturally thought ofPort Kar, malignant, squalid Port Kar, which claims suzerainty over the delta,exacting cruel tributes from the rence growers, great stocks of rence paperfor trade, sons for oarsmen in cargo galleys, daughters for Pleasure Slaves inthe taverns of the city.I would have expected the message to have beenwritten either on stout, glossy-surfaced linen pa-per, of the sort milled in Ar, or perhaps on vellum and parchment, prepared inmany cities and used commonly in scrolls, the process involving among otherthing tile washing and liming of skins, their scraping and stretching, dustingthem with sifted chalk, rubbing them down with pumice.Kamchak handed the paper to Kutaituchik and he took it but looked at it, Ithought, blankly.Saying nothing he handed it back to Kamchak, who seemed tostudy it with great care, and then, to my amazement, turned it sideways andthen upside down.At last he grunted and handed it to me.- I was suddenlyamused, for it occurred to me that neither of the Tuchuks could read.''Read," said Kutaituchik.I smiled and took the piece of rence paper.I glanced at it and then I smiledno longer.I could read it, of course.It was of._so in Gorean script, moving from left to right, and then from right to left onalternate lines.The writing was quite legible.It was written in black ink, probably with a reed pen.This again suggestedthe delta of the Vosk."What does it say?" asked Kutaituchik.The message was simple, consisting of only three lines.I read them aloud.NOMADS OF FORFind the man to whom this girl can speak
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