"John Norman - Gor 26 - Witness Of Gor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norman John)

in such a way as to make that possible. And I did not doubt but what that was no accident.

I struggled to my feet, bent over. I could not stand fully upright, because o the chain on my neck. I put
my hand up. It touched the ceiling. I had not realized the ceiling was that low. I then lay down, again. I
was alarmed, and dismayed. The area in which I was confined was not so much a cell, as something else.
It was more in the nature of a kennel.

My mood, or fit, of indignation, or resolve, of protest, of momentary righteousness, of transitory
belligerence, such a futile bellicosity, soon passed. Save for the sounds of a bit of chain it had been silent.
I supposed I had thought I owed it to my background, or my conditioning program. To be sure, I
suspected that neither of these was likely to be particularly germane, or helpful, with respect to my
current plight, or, more likely, condition. It was not merely that it seems somehow inappropriate, or silly,
and likely to be ineffective, to adopt a posture of belligerence when has a chain on one's neck, and
cannot even stand upright. It was rather that, given my current situation, chained and confined as I was, it
seemed to me that any such pleas, or demands, or such, would be absurd. Doubtless decisions had
already been made, pertinent to me. Matters, in effect, like those of nature, had doubtless already been
set in motion. If there had been a time when such threats, or protests, might have been effective, it was
doubtless long past. Too, I did not doubt, somehow, but what I was not the only one, such as myself, in
this place. The chains, the ring, the depressions in the floor, the apparently small, close, nature of the area
of my confinement, the incomprehensibility of my being here, except perhaps as one of a group, perhaps
similar to myself, all suggested this. Let others, if they wish, I thought, adopt such postures. For myself,
not only did I not find them congenial, given my nature, but, too, I was afraid, distinctly, that they might
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not be found acceptable, unless perhaps, very briefly, at the beginning, as a source for amusement.

Too, I considered the nature of legalities. One tends, if naive, to think of those legalities with which one is
most familiar as being somehow the only ones possible. This view, of course, is quite mistaken. This is
not to deny that all civilizations, and cultures, have their customs and legalities. It is only to remark that
they need not be the same. Indeed, the legalities with which I was most familiar, as they stood in
contradiction to nature, constituted, I supposed, in their way, an aberration of legalities. They were, at the
least, uncharacteristic of most cultures, and historically untypical.

To be sure, if the intent is to contradict nature rather than fulfill her, there was doubtless much point to
them. Thusly, that they produced human pain and social chaos, with all the miseries attendant thereupon,
would not be seen as an objection to them but rather as the predictable result of their excellence in the
light of their objectives. But not all legalities, of course, need have such objectives. As I lay there in the
darkness, in my chains, and considered the factuality and simplicity of my predicament, and the
apparently practical and routine aspects of my helplessness and incarceration, I suspected that my current
situation was not at all likely to be in violation of legalities. Rather I suspected it was in full and conscious
accord with them. I suspected that I was now, or soon would be, enmeshed in legalities. To be sure,
these would be different legalities from those with which I was most familiar. These would be, I
suspected, legalities founded not on politics, but biology.

I was now very hungry. But I would not, of course, drink from a depression in a floor, nor soil my lips
with whatever edible grime might be found in an adjacent depression.