To be sure I could not tell the two men, if they were men, apart.
'That is the evidence of real skill,' said Sarm.
'Kusk,' said Misk, 'is one of the greatest of the Nest.'
'Which of these slaves,' I asked, 'is the one who was synthesised?'
'Can't you tell?' asked Sarm.
'No,' I said.
Sarm's antennae shivered and wrapped themselves about one another.He was shaking with the signs I knew now to be associated with amusement.
'I will not tell you,' he said.
'It is growing late,' said Misk, 'and the Matok, if he is to remain in the Nest, must be processed.'
'Yes,' said Sarm, but he seemed in no hurry to conclude his gloating.He pointed one long, jointed foreleg at the Muls. 'Gaze upon them with awe, Matok,' said he, 'for they are the product of Priest-Kings and the most perfect specimens of your race ever to exist.'
I wondered about what Misk meant by 'processing' but Sarm's words irritated me, as did the two grave, handsome fellows who had so spontaneously groveled before his dais.'How is that?' I asked.
'Is it not obvious?' asked Sarm.
'No,' I said.
'They are symmetrically formed,' said Sarm.'Moreover they are intelligent, strong and in good health.'Sarm seemed to wait for my reply but there was none.'And,' said Sarm, 'they live on fungus and water, and wash themselves twelve times a day.'
I laughed.'By the Priest-Kings!' I roared, the rather blasphemous Gorean oath slipping out, somehow incongruously considering my present location and predicament.Neither Priest-King however seemed in the least disturbed by this oath which might have brought tears to the eyes of a member of the Caste of Initiates.
'Why do you curl your antennae?' asked Sarm.
'You call these perfect human beings?' I asked, waving my arms toward the two slaves.
'Of course,' said Sarm.
'Of course,' said Misk.
'Perfect slaves!' I said.
'The most perfect human being is of course the most perfect slave,' said Sarm.
'The most perfect human being,' I said, 'is free.'
A look of puzzlement seemed to appear in the eyes of the two slaves.
'They have no wish to be set free,' said Misk.He then addressed the slaves.'What is your greatest joy, Muls?' he asked.
'To be slaves of Priest-Kings,' they said.
'You see?' asked Misk.
'Yes,' I said.'I see now that they are not men.'
Sarm's antennae twitched angrily.
'Why do you not,' I challenged, 'have your Kusk, or whoever he is, synthesise a Priest-King?'
Sarm seemed to shiver with rage.The bladed hornlike projections snapped into view on his forelegs.
Misk had not moved.'It would be immoral,' he said.
Sarm turned to Misk.'Would the Mother object if the Matok's arms and legs were broken?'
'Yes,' said Misk.
'Would the Mother object if its organs were damaged?' asked Sarm.
'Undoubtedly,' said Misk.
'But surely,' said Sarm, 'it can be punished.'
'Yes,' said Misk, 'undoubtedly it will have to be disciplined sometime.'
'Very well,' said Sarm and directed his antennae at the two shaven-headed, plastic-clad slaves.'Punish the Matok,' said Sarm, 'but do not break its bones nor injure its organs.'
No sooner had these words been emitted from Sarm's translator than the two slaves leaped toward me to seize me.
In that same instant I leaped toward them, taking them by surprise and compounding the momentum of my blow.I thrust one aside with my left arm and crushed my fist into the face of the second.His head snapped to the side and his knees buckled.He crumpled to the floor.Before the other could regain his balance, I had leaped to him and seized him in my hands and lifted him high over my head and hurled him on his back to the stone flooring of the long chamber.Had it been combat to the death in that brief instant I would have finished him leaping over him and gouging my heels into his stomach rupturing the diaphragm.But I had no wish to kill him, nor a matter of fact to injure him severely.He managed to roll over on his stomach.I could have snapped his neck then with my heel.The thought occurred to me that these slaves had not been well trained to administer discipline. They seemed to know almost nothing.Now the man was on his knees, gasping, supporting himself on the palm of his right hand.If he was right-handed, that seemed foolish.Also he made no effort to cover his throat.
I looked up at Sarm and Misk, who, observing, stood in that slightly inclined, infuriatingly still posture.
'Do not injure them further,' said Misk.
'I will not,' I said.
'Perhaps the Matok is right,' said Misk to Sarm.'Perhaps they are not perfect human beings.'
'Perhaps,' admitted Sarm.
Now the slave who was conscious lifted his hand piteously to the Priest-Kings.His eyes were filled with tears.
'Please,' he begged, 'let us go to the dissection chambers.'
I was dumbfounded.
Now the other had regained consciousness and, on his knees, joined his fellow.'Please,' he cried, 'let us go to the dissection chambers.'
My astonishment could not be concealed.
'They feel that they have failed the Priest-Kings and wish to die,' said Misk.
Sarm regarded the two slaves.'I am kind,' he said, 'and it is near the Feast of Tola.'He lifted his foreleg with a gentle, permissive gesture, almost a benediction.'You may go to the dissection chambers.'
To my amazement, gratitude transfigured the features of the two slaves and, helping one another, they prepared to leave the room.
'Stop!' I cried.
The two slaves stopped and looked at me.
My eyes were fixed however on Sarm and Misk.'You can't send them to their deaths,' I said.
Sarm seemed puzzled.
Misk's antennae shrugged.
Frantically I groped for a plausible objection.'Kusk would surely be displeased if his creatures were to be destroyed,' I said.I hoped it would do.
Sarm and Misk touched antennae.
'The Matok is right,' said Misk.
'True,' said Sarm.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Sarm then turned to the two slaves.'You may not go to the dissection chambers,' he said.
Once more the two slaves, this time apparently without emotion, folded their arms and stood, legs apart, beside the dais.Nothing might have happened in the last few moments save that one was breathing heavily and the other's face was splattered with his own blood.
Neither of them showed any gratitude at being reprieved nor did either evince any resentment at my having interfered with their executions.
I was, as you might suppose, puzzled.The responses and behaviour of the two slaves seemed to be incomprehensible.
'You must understand, Tarl Cabot of Ko-ro-ba,' said Misk, apparently sensing my puzzlement, 'that it is the greatest joy of Muls to love and serve Priest-Kings.If it is the wish of a Priest-King that they die they do so with great joy; if it is the wish of a Priest-King that they live, they are similarly delighted.'
I noted that neither of the two slaves looked particularly delighted.
'You see,' continued Misk, 'these Muls have been formed to love and serve Priest-Kings.'
'They have been made that way,' I said.
'Precisely,' said Misk.
'And yet you say they are human,' I said.
'Of course,' said Sarm.
And then to my surprise one of the slaves, though which one I could not have told, looked at me and spoke.'We are human,' it said very simply.
I approached him and held out my hand.'I hope I did not hurt you,' I said.
It took my hand and awkwardly held it, not knowing how to shake hands apparently.
'I too am human,' said the other, looking at me rather directly.
He held his hand out with the back of his hand up.I took the hand and turned it and shook it.
'I have feelings,' said the first man.