"Are girls secured at night, in the cities?" she asked.
"Sometimes," I said, "sometimes not. They are collared. The cities are walled. Where would they run to?"
"But not all girls wish to escape, do they?" she asked.
"No," I said. "All the evidence supports the thesis that very few girls desire to escape their masters. Slavery apparently agrees with them. But all girls, whether they wish to escape or not, know that escape is almost impossible. Besides, if they should escape, they would doubtless soon fall to another master, perhaps worse than the first"
"Yes, Master," she said.
"Too," I said, "I am not certain that it is altogether wise for a girl to attempt to escape. For example, if she is caught, her feet may be cut off."
"I would be afraid to try to escape, Master," she said.
"You tried to escape in Port Kar," I said. I had caught her, and tied her and returned her to Ulafi, who had been at that time her master. I had wanted her shipped to Schendi that I might, by means of her, following her sales and exchanges, be led to the lair.pf the treacherous Shaba, traitor to Priest-Kings.
"I did not even begin to understand at that time," she said, "what might be involved, the almost total impossibility of escape and the drastic nature of the penalties which Gorean men might, without a second thought, so casually inflict upon me. I did not even begin to understand at that time what it might mean to be a slave girl on Gor."
"But you understand a little of what it might mean now, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes, Master," she said, kneeling there by the slave stake, the tether tied on her throat. She fingered the tether. "If I had known then what I now know," she said, "I would not have dared to move."
I nodded.
"I would have been afraid," she smiled, wryly, "to have moved even so much as a muscle, for fear one of Ulafi's men would have put me under the lash."
"Of course," I said.
Intelligent women learned swiftly the realities of Gor.
"Master," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"Not all masters would secure their slaves at night, would they, even in the open?"
"No," I said. "Much depends on the girl and the area."
"A master would not be likely to secure a conquered love slave, would he?" she asked.
"He might," I said, "if only to remind her that she is a slave."
"I see," she said.
"There is another reason, too, for securing a slave at night," I said, "for example, for locking her in her kennel or, if she is to be kept out-of-doors, chaining her to a ring in your courtyard."
"What is that?" she asked.
"To keep her from being stolen," I said.
"We could be stolen, couldn't we?" she said. She trembled.
"Of course," I said. "Slave theft is not unknown on Gor."
"I have heard," she said, "that girls are often chained at night to slave rings at the foot of their masters' couches."
"That is true," I said.
"But surely there is little danger," she said, "of a girl being stolen from her master's compartments."
"Not while he is there," I admitted.
"Then why are they chained like that?" she asked.
"Because they are slaves," I said.
"Yes, Master," she said, putting her head down.
"It is nearly time to tie you for the night," I said.
"Oh, please, Master," she said, lifting her head, "let me speak but a moment more with you. Do not tie your slave just now."
"Very well," I said.
She knelt back, happily, on her heels. She put her hands on the tether at her throat.
"Wasn't it horrifying," she asked, "what Kisu did to Tende today?"
"What?" I asked.
"Making her dance naked," she said.
"No," I said.
"Oh," she said.
"She is a slave," I reminded her.
"Yes, Master," she said. She looked at me. "It is permissible for a slave to dance naked?" she asked.
"Yes," I said.
She looked down. "Master," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"Am I a slave object?" she asked.
"Of course," I said. "And a very delicious one," I added.
"Thank you, Master," she said.
"Does it trouble you to be an object?" I asked.
"I do not feel like an object," she said.
"Technically," I said, "in the eyes of Gorean law you are not an object but an animal."
"I see," she said.
"In one sense," I said, "no living human being, nor bird nor squirrel, can be an object. They are not, for example, tables or rocks. In another sense all living creatures are objects. For example, they occupy space and obey the laws of physics and chemistry."
"You know what I mean," she said.
"No," I said, "I do not. Speak more clearly."
"A woman is treated like an object," she said, "when men do not listen to her or care for her feelings."
"Surely women, in the single-minded pursuit of certain goals, can treat other women and men, in that way?" I asked. "And men could treat men in that way, and so on? Is not the problem you have in mind a rather general one?"
"Perhaps," she said.
"Similarly," I said, "do not confuse being treated as an object with being an object. Similarly, do not confuse being treated as an object with being regarded as an object. For example, individuals who treat human beings as objects very seldom think that they are really objects. That would suggest insanity."
"You do not respond properly," she smiled.
"Is your criterion for being treated as an object that men do not agree with you?" I asked. "If so, that is somewhat obtuse."
"I suppose perhaps it is," she said. "If men do not do what we want, then they, so to speak, have not listened to us or paid attention to our feelings."
"That is a very interesting way of thinking," I admitted. "By the same token, if women did not pay close attention to the wishes of men and comply with their desires, then men might be entitled to regard themselves as being treated as objects."
"How silly," she said.
"Yes," I said.
"It is hard to talk with you about these things," she said.
"I think so," I said.
"You are not familiar with the slogans," she said.
"That is perhaps it," I admitted.
"I shall try again," she said.
"Do so," I encouraged her.
"Men," she said, "are only interested in women's bodies."
"I have never known a man who was only interested in a woman's body," I said. "This is not to deny that some such unusual person might somewhere exist."
She looked at me.
"If what you say is true," I said, "it would be the case that it would make no difference to a' man whether the woman with whom he was relating was conscious or not. Indeed, if what you say is true, it should not even make a difference to him whether he held a sentient woman in his arms or an unconscious mechanism designed to resemble such a woman. I submit, with all due respect, that that is not only libelous, but preposterous. Surely no rational person, male or female, if they took a moment to reflect, could entertain so peculiar a hypothesis. No man with whom I am familiar would be content with a woman who lacked consciousness. That sort of thing is simply stupid. It seems to me it would even have limited propaganda value."
"The men of Earth can be confused and terrorized by such assertions," she said.
"Some, perhaps," I said, "idiots."
"Perhaps," she said. "But such assertions can be politically effective."
"Yes," I agreed. 'The trick is to make a charge so obviously false or hopelessly vague that your interlocutor, who is usually concerned to be polite and congenial, makes a fool of himself trying to treat it seriously. It is a little like the fellow who tries to respond to the charge that he is a mad sleen by discussing the results of his blood tests."