she had been to Gor.'
'Never did she speak to me of these things,' I said.
'Matthew Cabot on Gor,' said Misk, 'was a hostage for her
silence.'
'My mother,' I said, 'died when I was very young…'
'Yes,' said Misk, 'because of a petty bacillus in your
contaminated atmosphere, a victim to the inadequacies of your
infantile bacteriology.'
I was silent.My eyes smarted, I suppose, from some heat or
fume of the Mul-Torch.
'It was difficult to foresee,' said Misk.'I am truly sorry.'
'Yes,' I said.I shook my head and wiped my eyes.I still
held the memory of the lonely, beautiful woman whom I had
known so briefly in my childhood, who in those short years
had so loved me.Inwardly I cursed the Mul-Torch that had
brought tears to the eyes of a Warrior of Ko-ro-ba.
'Why did she not remain on Gor?' I asked.
'It frightened her,' said Misk, 'and your father asked that
she be allowed to return to Earth, for loving her he wished
her to be happy and also perhaps he wanted you to know
something of his old world.'
'But I found the letter in the mountains, where I had made
camp by accident,' I said.
'When it was clear where you would camp the letter was placed
there,' said Misk.
'Then it did not lie there for more than three hundred years?'
'Of course not,' said Misk, 'the risk of discovery would have
been too great.'
'The letter itself was destroyed, and nearly took me with
it,' I said.
'You were warned to discard the letter,' said Misk.'It was
saturated with Flame Lock, and its combustion index was set
for twenty Ehn following opening.'
'When I opened the letter it was like switching on a bomb,' I
said.
'You were warned to discard the letter,' said Misk.
'And the compass needle?' I asked, remembering its erratic
behavious which had so unnerved me.
'It is a simple matter,' said Misk, 'to disrupt a magnetic
field.'
'But I returned to the same place I had fled from,' I said.
'The frightened human, when fleeing and disoriented, tends to
circle,' said Misk.'But it would not have mattere, I could
have picked you up had you not returned.I think that you
may have sensed there was no escape and thus, perhaps as an
act of pride, returned to the scene of the letter.'
'I was simply frightened,' I said.
'No one is ever simply frightened,' said Misk.
'When I entered the ship I fell unconscious,' I said.
'You were anaesthetised,' said Misk.
'Was the ship operated from the Sardar?' I asked.
'It could have been,' said Misk, 'but I could not risk that.'
'Then it was manned,' I said.
'Yes,' said Misk.
I looked at him.
'Yes,' said Misk.'It was I who manned it.'He looked down
at me.'Now it is late, past the sleeping time.You are
tired.'
I shook my head.'There is little,' I said, 'which was left
to chance.'
'Chance does nbot exist,' said Misk, 'ignorance exists.'
'You cannot know that,' I said.
'No,' said Misk, 'I cannot know it.' The tips of Misk's
antennae gently dipped towards me.'You must rest now,' he
said.
'No,' I said.'Was the fact that I was placed in the chamber
of the girl Vika of Treve considered?'
'Sarm suspects,' said Misk, 'and it was he who arranged your
quarters, in order that you might succumb to her charms, that
she might enthrall you, that she might bend you helplessly,
pliantly to her will and whim as she had a hundred men before
you, turning them - brave, proud warriors all - into the
slaves of a slave, into the slaves of a mere girl, herself
only a slave.'
'Can this be true?' I asked.
'A hundred men,' said Misk, 'allowed themselves to be chained
to the foot of her couch where she would upon occasion, that
they might not die, cast them scraps of food as though they
might have been pet sleen.'
My old hatred of Vika now began once again to enfuse my
blood, and my hands ached to grip her and shake her until her
bones might break and then throw her to my feet.
'What became of them?' I asked.
'They were used as Muls,' said Misk.
My fists clenched.
'I am glad that such a creature,' said Misk, 'is not of my
species.'
'I am sorry,' I said, 'that she is of mine.'
'When you broke the surveillance device in the chamber,' said
Misk, 'I felt I had to act quickly.'
I laughed.'Then,' I said, 'you actually thought you were
saving me?'
'I did,' said Misk.
'I wonder,' I said.
'At any rate,' said Misk, 'it was not a risk we cared to
take.'
'You speak of 'we'?'
'Yes,' said Misk.
'And who is the other?' I asked.
'The greatest in the Nest,' said Misk.
'The Mother?'
'Of course.'
Misk touched me lightly on the shoulder with his antennae.
'Come now,' he said.'Let us return to the chamber above.'
'Why,' I asked, 'was I returned to Earth after the siege of
Ar?'
'To fill you with hatred for Priest-Kings,' said Misk.'Thus
you would be more willing to come to the Sardar to find us.'
'But why seven years?' I asked.They had been long, cruel,
lonely years.
'We were waiting,' said Misk.
'But for what?' I demanded.
'For there to be a female egg,' said Misk.
'Is there now such an egg?'
'Yes,' said Misk, 'but I do not know where it is.'
'Then who knows?' I asked.
'The Mother,' said Misk.
'But what have I to do with all this?' I demanded.
'You are not of the Nest,' said Misk, 'and thus you can do
what is necessary.'
'What is necessary?' I asked.
'Sarm must die,' said Misk.
'I have no wish to kill Sarm,' I said.
'Very well,' said Misk.
I puzzled on the many things which Misk had told me, and then
I looked up at him, lifting my torch that I might better see
that great head with its rich, disklike, luminous eyes.
'Why is this one egg so important?' I asked.'You have the
stabilisation serums.Surely there will be many eggs, and
others will be female.'
'It is the last egg,' said Misk.
'Why is that?' I demanded.
'The Mother was hatched and flew her Nuptial Flight long
before the discovery of the stabilisation serums,' said Misk.
'We have managed to retard her aging considerably but eon by
eon it has been apparent that our efforts have been less and
less successful, and now there are no more eggs.'
'I don't understand,' I said.
'The Mother is dying,' said Misk.
I was silent and Misk did not speak and the only noise in
that paneled metallic laboratory that was the cradle of a
Priest-King was the soft crackle of the blue torch I held.
'Yes,' said Misk, 'it is the end of the Nest.'
I shook my head.'This is no business of mine,' I said.
'That is true,' said Misk.
We faced one another.'Well,' I said, 'are you not going to
threaten me?'
'No,' said Misk.
'Are you not going to hunt down my father or my Free
Companion and kill them if I do not serve you?'
'No,' said Misk.'No.'
'Why not?' I demanded.'Are you not a Priest-King?'
'Because I am a Priest-King,' said Misk.
I was thunderstruck.
'All Priest-Kings are not as Sarm,' said Misk.He looked
down at me.'Come,' he said, 'it is late and you will be
tired.Let us retire to the chamber above.'
Misk left the room and I, bearing the torch, followed him.
To be continued…