'Do not forget I come with the price of the cup,' she said. 'Use me as you will, Master.'
'Another,' I said sharply.
'For your pleasure,' she said, 'I bring you paga and a slave.'
'Personalized phrase,' I said.
'E.,' she said.
'Evelyn,' I corrected her.
'Evelyn tenders drink humbly to Master,' she said. 'Evelyn hopes Master will later find her suitable to give him pleasure.'
'Another,' I said.
'I am Evelyn,' she said. 'I serve you, naked and collared. Take me later to the alcove. I beg to be taught my slavery.'
I then took the paga. 'You may now serve others,' I said to her.
'You made her serve well,' said Shaba.
'Thank you,' I said.
The girl trembled, and then regained her composure. Then, in turn, as a naked paga slave, she served Msaliti and Shaba. I observed her technique. I thought she could probably survive in a paga tavern, under real conditions, not those artificial conditions under which she had served in the tavern of Pembe, the Golden Kailiauk, though doubtless she would be often beaten in the beginning.
When the girl had finished serving Shaba she straightenedup and came about the table, to where her cup rested on the low wood.
She reached for it, but Msaliti moved it out of her reach. She looked at him, puzzled.
'Does a paga slave drink at the table of masters?' he asked.
She laughed. 'Of course not,' she said.
'You could be whipped for that,' he said.
'Yes,' she said, 'that is true.' She smiled. She then went to where her clothing had been discarded, on the floor. She bent to pick it up, to reclothe herself.
'Do not dress,' said Msaliti.
'Why not?' she asked.
'Kneel there,' said Msaliti, indicating a place about a yard from the table.
'Why?' she asked.
'There,' he said.
She knelt there, puzzled. It was about where a paga slave might kneel, close enough to be ready to serve at the merest signal, far enough away to be unobtrusive.
'You see,' she said to me, 'I have been well trained.'
'Yes,' I said.
'You were not given permission to speak,' said Msaliti to the girl.
She looked at him, puzzled.
'You could be whipped also for that,' he said.
'Of course,' she laughed. Then she looked over to the blond-haired barbarian. The blond-haired girl, miserable, still blindfolded, knelt by the wall. Her slender ankles were shackled. Her hands were tied behind her back. A rope, looped through her collar, tied her to a slave ring behind her, about a yard off the floor. 'Do you want her whipped again?' asked the dark-haired girl.
'No,' said Msaliti.
'I thought you said the whip was to be used again tonight,' she said.
'I did,' said Msaliti.
'Are you going to beat her?' she asked.
'No,' he said.
'I do not understand,' she said.
Msaliti looked at her. 'It is nearly time, my dear,' he said, 'for you to be returned to the tavern of Pembe.'
'No!' she said. 'You said that tonight was my last night of feigned service there.'
'It was,' said he. 'But this is also the first night of your true service there.'
'I do not understand,' she said.
She got up, angrily, and went toward the small anteroom. But the two askaris blocked her way. She turned about, facing us. 'I would like to get the key,' she said, angrily, 'to remove this-this collar!' she indicated the collar.
'I have the key here,' said Msaliti, lifting it, he having taken it a moment ago from his pouch.
'Oh,' she said. Then she walked toward us.
'Do not approach more closely without permission,' said Msaliti.
She stopped, about five feet from the table.
'Kneel,' he said.
'I do not understand,' she said.
'Kneel,' he said. I noted that he had repeated a command. Masters do not care to repeat commands.
She knelt. 'I do not understand,' she said.
I did not think she was unintelligent. It was only that her Earth mind was not quick to grasp that she might, almost unbelievably, almost incomprehensibly to her, be placed in certain categories.
'Give me the key,' she said.
'Whose collar do you wear?' he asked.
'That of Pembe, of course,' she said.
'What do you wish to do with it?' he asked.
'Remove it, of course,' she said.
'But it is Pembe's collar,' he said.
'Yes,' she said.
'Thus,' said he, 'if or when it is removed is surely a determination to be made not by you but by Pembe.'
'What are you saying!' she cried.
'Are all women on your former world as dull as you?' he asked.
''What do you mean my 'former world'?' she asked.
'Precisely what I said,' said he, 'that world which was formerly yours. Surely you must now know that your world is Gor, that it is the Gorean world, and only the Gorean world, which is now yours.'
'No!' she cried.
'You are a Gorean slave girl,' he said.
'No! No!' she cried. She leaped to her feet.and ran toward the door, but the two askaris seized her and flung her again to her knees, before us.
'You're joking!' she begged.
'No,' said Msaliti.
'Take it off!' she cried, yanking at the collar, suddenly. 'Take it off! Take it off!'
'No,' said Msaliti.
She looked at him. The steel collar remained inflexibly fastened on her throat.
Msaliti, in the speech known to the askaris, spoke briefly. They seized the girl by the arms and dragged her to the side of the room. They put her on her knees, facing the wall. They braceleted her wrists about one of the four slave rings in the wall, the one farthest from the blond-haired barbarian and closest to the door. It was, like the others, about a yard from the floor. Msaliti, standing, leaving the table, shook loose the blades of the slave whip.
'I am not a slave!' she cried, looking at him over her right shoulder.
'You were a slave,' said Msaliti, 'the instant you were branded, only you did not know it.'
'No! No!' she cried. Then she cried, 'I served you well!'
'Yes,' said Msaliti, 'but you are now no longer needed.'
'I served you well,' she wept.
