"Position!" we heard.
Immediately every girl on every platform assumed position. I looked about, as I could. Every girl that I saw has assumed, as I had, the open-kneed position. It was required of them. I gathered, as it was required of me. They were all attractive. I wondered what sort of slaves we were, that we must kneel in this fashion.
In a few moments we were lined up, according to our separate lots. I at the end of mine, facing not the large, closed double doors which let to the area outside, those doors through which the customers had entered, but the other large, closed double doors, those which, apparently led somewhere else. Gloria was in front of me, as usual. Her hands were manacled behind her back. my hands, too, were identically secured. On her neck, as on mine, was a buckled, two-ringed, leather collar. It was the sort of collar which may be easily put on, and removed from, a girl. The girl, of course, if manacled as we were, is helpless in it. The rings are located at 180 degrees from one another. This permits girls to be fastened, the collar oriented appropriately, either side by side, in ranks, or behind one another, in files. A leather strap, with snaps at both ends, joins the rings, usually the ring at the back of one collar to the ring at the front of another. Gloria, being ahead of me, was thus leashed to the ring at the back of the girl" s collar ahead of her, and I was leashed to the ring at the back of Gloria" s collar. As I was at the end of the line, the ring at the back of my collar hung free, against the leather, not utilized.
The double doors before us, were opened.
I could see a long corridor, dimly lit with lamps. It was, like the exposition area, floored with dirt. That made sense, as doubtless tarsks, those of the four-footed variety, those bristly, squat, grunting animals, as opposed to the two-footed variety, those soft, smooth, shapely animals, were often conducted through it.
I looked down the long, dark, dirt-floored corridor.
Our group, it seemed, would be neither the first, nor, given our position, the last to enter that corridor.
I looked down at the writing on my left breast. It was, I had been told, an "89," my lot number.
We had been fed very lightly today.
There was a reason for that. Tonight we were going on the block.
9 The Sales Barn; The Block; The Cage
Our group would be the next into the shoot. We could see it on the other side of the barred gate, the narrow, wooden ramp, with the low, wooden walls, open at the top, with the two gates, one for the shoot itself, to control the number of animals entering it, the other, slanting, behind which men might stand, which, when closed, given its diagonal, served to guide animals into the shoot, the shoot" s gate, for such a purpose, then being held back, or, if it were desired to admit several animals, hooked back, open.
Gloria, ahead of me, was squatting over the bowl.
We were still in line, but we were no longer in the two-ringed, leather collars, or leashed, or manacled. Bars were in front of us, and behind us. This was one of several holding areas, and the last before the shoot. Two holding areas back we had been given water, order to drink plentifully. That water, of course, as of yet, had not had time to pass through our system.
A man slid the bowl back to me. "Relieve yourself," he said.
I squatted over the bowl.
"How do you feel?" asked the man. I looked up. it was Teibar, he of Market of Semris. His voice was kindly. He seemed not unconcerned. The last time he had seen me, I supposed, might have been when I had collapsed, unconscious, overcome, before him, and the others, in the exposition area, shortly after my lot number had been written on my breast.
"Very well, Master, I said. "Thank you, Master."
He then turned away. Like most Gorean men, and unlike Teibar, the Teibar who had captured me, he seemed to bear me no ill will, or hostility, on the grounds that I might be from Earth. Perhaps he no more than most others, knew what was going on there. To him I was doubtless no more than another pretty girl, another charming female, correctly imbonded.
I was still squatting over the bowl.
I looked up and met the eyes of the other fellow, he who had slid the bowl back to me, he who had ordered me to relieve myself. They were stern. "Yes, Master!" I said. Quickly then I relieved myself. I thought to myself with bitter amusement how Teibar, my Teibar, might have smiled, to see me squatting here, his "modern woman, now a frightened slave, on his world, relieving herself at a man" s command. Doubtless he had known full well, he, a native of this world, that such things would be required of me. The bowl, incidentally, is not an improper precaution. It is often used before sales. Though there is usually a liberal sprinkling of sawdust on the block it is usually there less, I think, for practical purposed than for symbolic ones, for example, making clear the animal nature of what is vended, reverence for tradition. Still it could serve. The bowl, however, is better.