"She is stupid," said the man behind me, he controlling my leash, allowing me so little tether on it.
"No," said the man before me. "She has her tiny spark of intelligence, nasty, petty and small though it might be, which, hopefully, may perhaps facilitate her survival. It is just that these things, now, are beyond her ken."
"I do not understand," I said.
"Can you not guess, cuddly beauty?" he asked.
"No," I said.
"Remember, long ago," he said, "when we first met, and we spoke of an ancient, beautiful world?"
"Yes," I said.
"A world in which women such as you," he said, "were bought and sold as slaves?" "Yes," I said, uneasily.
"Perhaps you remember saying that that world was gone," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"And perhaps, too," he said, "you may remember me remarking that there was another, not unlike it, which exists."
"Yes," I said.
"You said that that was absurd, as I recall," he said.
"Yes," I said. "And it is absurd!"
I felt the man" s hand tighten a little in the chain. This made me more conscious of the collar on my neck.
"Do you recall what I said then?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. I shuddered.
"What?" he asked.
"That you had seen it," I said.
"It is true," he said.
"You are mad!" I said.
"And you, too, will see it, my dear," he said.
"That is absurd!" I said. "You are mad! You are mad!"
He reached down and picked up the whip.
"You must learn deference to males," he said, "absolute deference to males." I shrank back. But he was coiling the whip. Then with a butt clip and a blade clip, he put it on his belt. I almost fainted.
"There is no such place!" I said.
"I was born there," he said, "as were my fellows."
"There is no such place on Earth!" I said.
"That is true," he said.
"What are you saying?" I gasped. "Who are you?"
"I am Teibar," he said. "My colleagues are Hercon, to your right, and Taurog, behind you, who holds your chain."
"I do not understand such names," I said. They did not even sound like the names of men of Earth!
"I suppose they are unfamiliar to you," he said. "They are not found here, or at least, I suppose, not frequently."
"Here?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, "on Earth."
"I don" t understand," I said.
"I speak of a world which is not Earth," he said.
"Another world?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Another planet?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"But you are human, surely," I said, "some sort of human, though perhaps of a different sort from those to whom I am accustomed."
"You fear that I am an alien?" he asked.
"Yes," I whispered.
"In one sense it is true that I, from your point of view, am an alien," he said, "the sense in which I have come from a different world. In another senses, however, I am not an alien, as I am identically a member of your own species." I looked at him.
"My ancestors came from Earth," he said, "rather as yours came from Europe. Have no fear. I am every bit as human as you."
"I see," I said.
"And that is why I am so dangerous to you," he said, "because I am a member of your own species, because I understand you, because I know how you think, because I am familiar with your nasty little mine and emotions, your slyness, your pettinesses, your selfishness, your stupid little tricks, everything about you, and what you are."
"And this world of which you speak," I whispered, "supposing it exists, it is like, in some ways, the other world, the vanished world, of which we spoke?" "Yes," he said.
"Is it like it in one way in particular," I asked.
"It is like it in many ways," he said, seemingly amused. "Do you have anything particular in mind?"
"It is a worlda€”" I asked.
"Yes?" he said.
"Is it a world in which women such as I," I asked, "are bought and sold as slaves?"
"Yes," he said.
"What are you going to do with me?" I asked.
"Can you not guess?" he asked.
I leaped upward but, cruelly, instantly, with an expert turn and throw of the leash, I was thrown twisting, gasping and choking, to my belly on the rug. I was startled with how excellently, how easily, how smoothly, and with such little thought this had apparently been done. I had been utterly helpless, like something of no account in Taurog" s control. I felt his heel on my back. it pressed me cruelly down on the rug. The collar was on my abraded neck. Some links of its chain lay beside my throat. I lifted my head as I could.
The fellow before me made a sign and Taurog removed his heel from my back. I could still feel its print there. I was frightened. I could feel the rough, flattened coarseness of the carpet beneath me. I noted the difference between the feel of it, from lying upon it on my back, before, and as I did now, on my stomach. It had seemed plain, hard and scratchy to my back, a suitable surface, I supposed, on which a girl" s virginity might be tested, but as I lay on my stomach, to my softness, to my breasts and belly, to my thighs, it seemed oddly different. I was now much more conscious of it, the irregularities of its surface, the tiny, abrupt roughnesses, where a shoe might have moved the pile. I had walked upon that carpet thousands of times. Never before, however, had I lain on it, on my stomach, naked.
"Kneel," said my captor.
I struggled to my knees. My body was still sensitive to the feel of the rug. Taurog had not been gentle with me. I could still feel the print of his heel on my back. I gathered that I was not the sort of thing to which gentleness need be shown.
I looked at my captor.
"It might interest you to know that you have been on our list for some time," he said.
"List?" I said.
"Yes," he said, "lists, actually. You have been on our scouting list for a year, on our consideration list for six months, and on our active list for some three months."
"I am not a slave!" I cried.
Slowly the man approached me and I shrank back. Then he took me by the upper arms and pulled me up, from my knees, before him, until I was half standing. "On the contrary," he said, "my hateful little charmer, you are. I assure you of it. There is not the least doubt about the matter. We know our work. To a practiced eye, a discerning eye, one which is trained to look for, and recognize, such things, you are obviously a slave. The suitable condition for a woman such as you is perfectly clear, deny it and squirm though you might."
"No, no," I whimpered, turning my head away from him.
"Do you think I cannot recognize slaves?" he asked. "It is my business." I moaned.
He shook me, and my head snapped back, and I cried out with misery.
"Look at me," he said.
I did so, terrified.
"I, like many others," he said, "can recognize slaves, and, have no fear, I have recognized you as one."
"No, I whimpered, not wanting to look at him.
"Look at me," he said.
Again I looked at him, terrified.
"It is in your eyes," he said.
"No," I wept.
"Even months ago," he said, "when I looked into your eyes, when you sat in those silly garments, behind that foolish desk, I saw that you, beneath all that cotton and wool, were a naked slave."
"No," I wept.
"And I look into them now," he said, "and see that it is true." "No, no, no!" I wept, turning my head away. I dared not meet those fierce eyes which so frightened me, which seemed somehow to look through me, burning through me like fire, bringing unwelcome, frightening torches to my secret darkness, penetrating to my deepest and most closely guarded secrets, to what lay in the most secret belly and heart of me.
"Shall I have you dance again, before men?" he asked.
"No," I said. "No!"
"Do not fear," he said, "you will dance again before them, and dance as you have never dreamed a woman could dance before men!"