did not look back.
The white Kur reached to the lever which, rotated, would swing back the thick, circular steel hatch.
'Greetings, Tarl, who hunts with me,' said Imnak, grinning, entering the room.
'Greetings, Traitor,' I said.
'Do not be bitter, Tarl, who hunts with me,' said Imnak. 'One must look out for one's own best interest.'
I said nothing.
'I want you to know that I, and all the People,' he said, 'will be forever grateful to you for having freed the tabuk.'
'That is a comforting thought,' I said.
'One in your position can probably use a comforting thought,' speculated Imnak.
'That is true,' I said. It was difficult to be angry with Imnak.
'I hold no hard feelings toward you,' said Imnak.
'That is a relief,' I said.
'I have brought you something to eat,' he said. He lifted up a sack.
'No thank you,' I said.
'But you may grow hungry before you reach your destination,' said Imnak.
'I do not think so,' I said.
'Perhaps then your companion,' said Imnak, indicating the Kur with his head, 'might enjoy something to eat. You must not be selfish. You should think of him, too, you know.'
'I will not be likely to forget him,' I said.
'Take the food,' said Imnak.
'I do not want it,' I said.
Imnak looked stricken.
Suddenly I was startled. My heart leaped.
'Sleen like it,' said Imnak, hopefully.
'Let me see it,' I said. I looked into the sack. 'Yes, I will take it,' I said.
The Kur came away from the lever which controlled the hatch to the outside. It smelled the sack and looked within. It handled the chunks of meat, large and thick, in the sack. It satisfied itself the sack contained no knives or weapon.
'It is for me,' I said to the Kur.
The lips of the Kur drew back. It took the sack and put it on the sled. It then went back to the lever and rotated it. The hatch opened slowly. I could see the darkness, the moonlit ice beyond. The temperature in the steel room, almost immediately, fell thirty or forty points in temperature. Wind whipped into the room, blowing the Kur's fur, and Imnak's black hair about his head.
'Tal,' said Imnak to me, not as though bidding me farewell, but as though greeting me.
'Tal,' said I to him.
The Kur took his place behind the sled. I leaned forward and, putting my weight against the traces, drew the sled over the steel plates and out onto the ice.
34
What Occurred On The Ice
As I had anticipated it was the intention of Half-Ear that my mutilated body be found at a considerable distance from the complex.
We trekked northward. The wind was twisting and swift. The cold was intense.
The complex was more than an Ahn behind us.
'I am hungry,' I said to-the Kur, half shouting, pointing to my mouth.
Its lips drew back. It lifted the whip. Again I put my weight against the traces.
When I, drawing the sled, had left the complex I had turned and looked upon it. I had stood there for a moment in awe. It was indeed an ice island, and one of considerable size. It towered more than a thousand feet above the surface ice in which It was now locked. It would extend, below the surface, much farther, probably some seven thousand or so feet. In width it was some four pasangs, I would conjecture, and in length some ten pasangs. It was not the only such island in the vicinity.
The Kur had lifted the whip behind me, and I had then turned to continue the journey, the cliffs of the ice island rearing high above and behind me.
It had been kept stabilized in its position gyroscopically during the summer. It would be located by the invasion fleet by virtue of its position.
I looked up at the stars. Already, I supposed, the troopships, with their hibernated marches, engines flaming, quiet in the near vacuum of space, burned their silent, purposeful way teward the shores of Gor.
'I am hungry,' I said to the Kur.
Its lips drew back, this time in a snarl. It bared its fangs. I saw that it was considering killing me. But it would be obedient to its orders, if the situation would permit it. It was not what it seemed, a simple ice beast. It was a ship Kur, once bound by the discipline of the steel worlds, the pledges of crews and the necessary rigors of strict report lines. Unless I forced it to do so, it would not kill me until the time and place mandated in its instructions.
Yet it was displeased with me.
I saw it lift the whip. It could, of course, lash the furs from my back. But if it did so, I would soon freeze; too, the cut fur, sliced by the whip, would belie the deception of a sleen attack. It might kill me now, but then it would have to draw the sled itself, my rent body upon it, to the place or distance at which it was to be abandoned.
The Kur took the sack of meat in its paw. I reached out for it. It drew the sack back, and its lips went back about its fangs. It then crouched itself upon the sled, the sack of meat before it, snarled, and lifted the whip.
I looked at it, as though in dismay. 'How can I draw the sled with such weight upon it?' I asked. 'Please,' I said.
It reached into the sack and drew forth one of the large, heavy chunks of meat. It extended it towards me, but, when I went to take it, it drew it back and bared its fangs. I stepped back. It slipped the large chunk of meat into its mouth. I saw it swallow. Its lips drew back. Then it snarled and lifted the whip.
'Please,' I said.
I saw its eyes blaze. Then it threw another piece of meat down its throat.
I turned away, and, now struggling, put my weight against the traces. The beast was indeed heavy, and it was not easy to draw the sled, its weight upon it, over the roughness and jagged contours of the ice.
Half of an Ahn later, weary, my legs heavy, my back sore, I turned once more to see the beast. It snarled and again lifted the whip. The sack which had held the meat lay empty on the sled. The beast seemed, however, generally content. Its eyes were half closed. It seemed sleepy.
I turned about and again drew the sled. It was now a matter of time.
My major fear had been that the beast would have swallowed the meat into its storage stomach, in which it would not be digested until, at the beast's will, it was disgorged into the true stomach, or chemical stomach. I did not think, however, he had swallowed the meat into the storage stomach. First, there was sufficient food at the complex, and Kurii usually do not carry excess food and water in their body except when anticipating periods of scarcity. The additional food, of course, is a weight burden and impairs performance. Secondly, the beast seemed sleepy and content, which suggested to me that it had fed, and pleasantly, to its satisfaction. The metabolism of the Kur, however, does tend to be more under its control than it is with many organisms. Even in the true, or chemical, stomach, it can, by regulating the flow of digestive juices, hasten or protract the process of digestion. For example, it commonly digests at its leisure, but, if it anticipates proximate exertions, it can hurry the process. A Kur, thus, requires a smaller time interval than many species between eating heavily and engaging in demanding
