Tal Goreans,
Greetings visitors,

Welcome once again to the Booknotes column. In this month’s edition we continue looking at book 3, Priest-Kings of Gor, in which Tarl has gained entrance to the Sardar and finally met a Priest-King indeed. It has proved to be quite other than what he was expecting, and what it will do with him is anyone’s guess. Let’s find out, shall we?

Chapter Ten

Tarl is led by this Priest-King deeper into the Sardar, into what we learn is called “the Nest”. As nothing in particular happens on this journey, Tarl takes the opportunity to tell us a little about Priest-Kings’ sensory experiences, their mode of communication and their language. They are by no means blind–they have large compound eyes of the kind usual for insects–but they make little use of sight, and much more of scent, this by means of the two antennae on their heads. These are also modified (from context, I assume this is an artificial modification) to detect sounds, although Priest-Kings experience sound in this manner as though it were scent. They have an analogy to music which consists of skillfully-presented scents, unpleasant to Tarl’s nose; and their language consists of scent-signals, which they can transfer directly to a recording medium to leave a “written” message for another. They communicate with men by means of translator devices that turn words into scents and vice versa, and Tarl tells us that, although Priest-Kings have a large vocabulary, they have no word for “friend”–their nearest equivalent to friendship being something called “Nest Trust”.

Tarl is startled when the floor drops beneath him, but realizes that he is in an elevator in time to avoid embarrassing himself by drawing his sword and attacking his guide, who reveals his name with the last word of the chapter: “Misk”.

Chapter Eleven

Having thus proved his peaceful nature by refusing to attack Misk, Tarl now makes the acquaintance of another Priest-King, Sarm, who breezes in on a flying disk. In contrast to what might be called affability in Misk, Sarm is a much more aloof character entirely, and he doesn’t seem to trust Tarl one little bit. Indeed, he is angry with Misk for not anaesthetising Tarl as per his recommendation, and the two Priest-Kings turn off their translators in order to row about the matter without embarrassing themselves in front of Tarl. Once they have attended to this, Sarm himself addresses Tarl.

Sarm is the First-Born and beloved of the Mother, which Tarl takes to mean that Sarm is the leader of the Priest-Kings, a notion that Sarm finds agreeable. He is none too pleased to be corrected by Misk, but concedes the point when Misk points out that the Mother is the greatest in the Nest. On learning this, Tarl effectively says “Take me to your leader” but Sarm, seeming amused by the request, tells him that none but a few select Priest-Kings may see her. Misk chimes in again and says that on certain holidays others are allowed to see her (as one who has been accused of pedantry, I have to admit to a certain liking for Misk), but Sarm, pettishly admitting this to be the case, adds that even these public audiences extend only to other Priest-Kings, and not to the lower orders.

Tarl is not pleased at being considered a lower form of life, and not much mollified when Misk tells him that on these feast days the lower orders, including the humans in the Nest, are given the day off. Misk rhetorically asks if men do as much for their domestic animals, and when Tarl, admitting that they don’t, points out that men are not animals, Sarm loftily disagrees. This provokes Tarl into drawing his sword, at which Sarm, despite his huge size and strength, betrays fear. Since this threat of violence allows Sarm to argue that Tarl should have been anaesthetised after all, Tarl apologises, but when Sarm further claims that Tarl is dangerous, he bursts out laughing. This, it turns out, is something for which Priest-Kings have an analogue: they shake and curl their antennae, and once Sarm understands this he is full of offended pride.

On Misk’s instructions, Tarl climbs aboard Sarm’s flying disk, and the three of them set off further into the Nest.

Chapter Twelve

The Nest is by no means a mere warren of simple tunnels like a giant formicarium, but features many examples of splendid architecture, and in a magnificent plaza Tarl sees many other Priest-Kings and numerous other creatures. Among the latter are humans, dressed in the purple more usually reserved for Ubars–but here it designates one who is a slave of Priest-Kings. The humans are also shaven, for hygienic reasons, and Tarl is naturally curious to know if it is to be his fate to become bald and robed in purple. Sarm says that he will have to check the records, and that it may be that Tarl is to be destroyed, but Misk informs him that the Mother herself has decreed that Tarl is to keep his life, his hair and his freedom; and his refusal to reveal the Mother’s reasons annoys Sarm.

Sarm goes ahead and checks the records, while Misk impounds Tarl’s sword; and he finds out that what Misk has said is indeed the truth. Sarm for his part would as soon see Tarl destroyed for “curling its antennae at me”, but he contents himself with a demonstration of Priest-Kings’ superiority to men. He summons two slaves, or Muls, known simply as Mul Al-Ka and Mul Ba-Ta; “Slave A” and “Slave B”. One of these is the product of genetic engineering while the other was synthesised molecule by molecule, and both are identical and physically perfect specimens of manhood. However Tarl avers that, being only the slaves of Priest-Kings, their perfection is marred by their unfreedom, and he adds that if their creator, Kusk, really wanted to show his prowess then he should have synthesised a Priest-King. Both Sarm and Misk find the notion abhorrent, and Misk doesn’t disagree when Sarm says that Tarl should be punished, although in the Mother’s name he draws the line at any severe injury.

Within those limits Mul Al-Ka and Mul Ba-Ta are ordered to give Tarl a good hiding, at which task they fail lamentably, having no training whatever, and having failed their masters, they both wish to be dissected to death. Sarm benevolently grants this request, but Tarl, of course, hastily intervenes, casting about for an excuse; and the one he comes up with is that Kusk would not want his handiwork destroyed, to which suggestion Sarm and Misk agree. Oddly, Al-Ka and Ba-Ta have no strong feelings on the matter; since they live to serve Priest-Kings they serve them just as well by living at a Priest-King’s word as by dying. Nor do they resent the beating Tarl just gave them, and he proceeds to teach them to shake hands.

Chapter Thirteen

While the two Muls take Tarl to be processed, he tells us some more about the Priest-Kings’ alphabet and their mathematics. A pretty girl runs past, attracting some attention from Tarl and none at all from Al-Ka and Ba-Ta. He tries to explain to them why they, as men, should find a pretty girl interesting, with indifferent success.

They pass one of the other life-forms in the Nest, a scavenging creature called a Slime Worm; it lives on the kills of the Golden Beetle, and the Golden Beetle in its turn kills Priest-Kings–but there is no further elaboration of this matter for now, as Tarl arrives at the processing chamber and is handed over.

Chapter Fourteen

Tarl, as if he were some biologically-hazardous specimen (which is not far from how Sarm seems to have viewed him to date), is stripped of his clothing and force-fed a large pill by a set of robot arms controlled by a Priest-King safely on the far side of an observation window. He cheers himself up by insulting the Priest-King until the pill, a purgative, kicks in, at which point he becomes too wrapped up in his own woes to have much time to spare for wit. He is then dunked in various chemicals and exposed to assorted kinds of radiation, and once he has been suitably cleansed and clothed in antiseptic garments, he is returned to the Muls’ tender care, and delivered by them to Misk’s own chamber.

His living quarters, described as a “case”, are sparse but comfortable, and the food he is given, a kind of fungus grown in the Nest for feeding to Muls, is perfectly nutritious and absolutely uninteresting, so much so that occasionally Muls will kill each other for a handful of salt. Priest-Kings expect humans to wash themselves frequently, and Tarl has all he can do to negotiate a mere six showers per day; but once the initial barriers have been broken down, Tarl and Misk find themselves becoming quite used to each other. Indeed, Misk did once have a pet Mul that he was fond of, who was ordered destroyed by Sarm after a curious incident in which Misk was nearly killed by a Golden Beetle but rescued by the Mul. Oddly, Misk seems to accept without rancour the possibility that the Beetle incident was engineered by Sarm; he does not seem to truly understand malice the way a human would.

Sharing this story with Tarl, however, moves Misk to share another secret with him, one that is hidden beneath Tarl’s case (which Misk negligently lifts and moves aside, making nothing of its several hundred pounds of weight). Below is a cavern dug out by Misk over a few centuries, and Misk hands Tarl a torch and bids him enter.

Chapter Fifteen

In the secret cavern, Misk swears Tarl to secrecy and Tarl, since Priest-Kings have no concept of friendship, suggests that there should be “Nest Trust” between them; he brushes his hands against Misk’s antennae in a moment of rather touching ceremony. Then Misk reveals what he is hiding here; a large bank of machinery plugged into a small winged Priest-King. Misk explains that this is a male Priest-King, and that he himself is neuter, as are Sarm and all the other Priest-Kings in the Nest except the Mother. Priest-Kings do not age, having devised a medical counter to aging long ago, and Misk himself (he continues to use the male pronoun, and so shall I) is more than two million years old; but the Nest itself is overdue for renewal, being filled with ancient Priest-Kings and no young. There are no young females or female eggs in the Nest, the last few female eggs having been destroyed on Sarm’s orders, for Sarm does not wish to give way to a new generation of Priest-Kings.

Instead of saying more of this matter for now, Misk goes on to explain the nature of the teaching apparatus that the unconscious male is attached to, which in effect directly codes knowledge into its brain. Tarl finds this idea repulsive, but Misk points out that all education is a matter of coding knowledge into an individual’s brain, and the only difference with this method is that it is far quicker and more efficient.

But why is Misk entrusting this great secret to Tarl, and what does he want of him? As regular readers will be used to me saying: Find out next time!