Then, to my astonishment, I heard; a mechanically reproduced sound say, "Who are you?"
I shuddered, believing that my mind had broken at.
last. In a moment the voice repeated the question, the volume of the sound being slightly increased, and then added, "Are you from the City of Ar?"
"No," I said, taking part in what I believed must be some fantastic hallucination in which I madly conversed with myself. "No, I am not," I said. "I am from the Free City of Ko-ro-ba."
When I said this, the monstrous insect bent near me, and I caught sight of the mandibles, like curved knives. I tensed myself for the sudden lateral chopping of those pincer like jaws. Instead, saliva or some related type of secretion or exudate was being applied to the web in my vicinity, which loosened its adhesive grip. When freed, I was lifted lightly in the mandibles and carried to the edge of the web, where the spider seized a hanging strand and scurried downward, placing me on the ground. He then backed away from me on his eight legs, but never taking the pearly gaze of his several eyes from me.
I heard the mechanically reproduced sound again. It said, "My name is Nar, and I am of the Spider People." I then saw for the first time that strapped to his abdomen was a translation device, not unlike those I had seen in Ko-ro-ba. It apparently translated sound impulses, below my auditory threshold, into the sounds of human speech. My own replies were undoubtedly similarly transformed into some medium the insect could understand. One of the insect's legs twiddled with a knob on the translation device. "Can you hear this?" he asked. He had reduced the volume of the sound to its original level, the level at which he had asked his original question.
"Yes," I said.
The insect seemed relieved. "I am pleased," he said. "I do not think it is appropriate for rational creatures to speak loudly."
"You have saved my life," I said. "Thank you."
"My web saved your life," corrected the insect. He was still for a moment, and then, as if sensing my apprehension, said, "I will not hurt you. The Spider People do not hurt rational creatures."
"I am grateful for that," I said.
The next remark took my breath away.
"Was it you who stole the Home Stone of Ar?"
I paused, then, being confident the creature had no love for the men of Ar, answered affirmatively.
"That is pleasing to me," said the insect, "for the men of Ar do not behave well toward the Spider People. They hunt us and leave only enough of us alive to spin the Cur-Ion Fiber used in the mills of Ar. If they were not rational creatures, we would fight them."
"How did you know the Home Stone of Ar was stolen?" I asked.
"The word has spread from the city, carried by all the rational creatures, whether they crawl or fly or swim." The insect lifted one foreleg, the sensory hairs trembling on my shoulder. "There is great rejoicing on Gor, but not in the city of Ar.»
"I lost the Home Stone," I said. "I was tricked by her I suppose to be the daughter of the Ubar, thrown from my own tarn, and saved from death only by your web. I think tonight there will again be gladness in Ar, when the daughter of the Ubar returns the Home Stone."
The mechanical voice spoke again. "How is it that the daughter of the Ubar will return the Home Stone of Ar when you carry in your belt the tarn-goad?"
Suddenly I realized the truth of what he had said and was amazed that it had not occurred to me before. I imagined the girl alone on the back of the fierce tarn, unskilled in the mastery of such a mount, without even a tarn-goad to protect herself if the bird should turn on her. Her chances of survival seemed now more slim than if I had cut the ladder over the cylinders of Ar when she hung helplessly in my power, the treacherous daughter of the Ubar Marlenus. Soon the tarn would be feeding. It must have been light for several hours.
"I must return to Ko-ro-ba," I said. "I have failed."
"I will take you to the edge of the swamp if you like," said the insect. I assented, thanking him, this rational creature who lifted me gently to his back and moved with such dainty rapidity, picking his way exquisitely through the swamp forest.
We had proceeded for perhaps an hour when Nar, the spider, abruptly stopped and lifted his two forelegs into the air, testing the odors, straining to.sift out something in the dense, humid air.
"There is a carnivorous tharlarion, a wild tharlarion, in the vicinity," he said. "Hold tightly."
Luckily I did immediately as he had advised, fixing my grip deep in the long black hairs that covered his thorax, for Nar suddenly raced to a nearby swamp tree and scuttled high into its branches. About two or three minutes later I heard the hunger grunt of a wild tharlarion and a moment afterward the piercing scream of a terrified girl.
From the back of Nar I could see the marsh, with its reeds and clouds of tiny flying insects below. From a wall of reeds about fifty paces to the right and thirty feet below, stumbling and screaming, came the bundled figure of a human being, running in horror, its hands flung out before it. In that instant I recognized the heavy brocaded robes, now mud-splattered and torn, of the daughter of the Ubar.
Scarcely had she broken into the clearing, splashing through the shallow greenish waters near us, than the fearsome head of a wild tharlarion poked through the reeds, its round, shining eyes gleaming with excitement, its vast arc of a mouth swung open. Almost too rapid to be visible, a long brown lash of a tongue darted from its mouth and curled around the slender, helpless figure of the girl. She screamed hysterically, trying to force the adhesive band from her waist. It began to withdraw toward the mouth of the beast.
Without thinking, I leaped from the back of Nar, seizing one of the long, tendril-like vines that parasitically interlace the gnarled forms of the swamp trees. In an instant I had splashed into the marsh at the foot of the tree and raced toward the tharlarion, my sword raised. I rushed between its mouth and the girl, and with a swift downward slash of my blade severed that foul brown tongue.
A shattering squeal of pain rent the heavy air of the swamp forest, and the tharlarion actually reared on its hind legs and spun about in pain, sucking the brown stump of its tongue back into its mouth with an ugly popping noise. Then it splashed on its back in the water, rolled quickly onto its legs, and began to move its head in rapid scanning motions. Almost immediately its eyes fixed on me; its mouth, now filled with a colorless scum, opened, revealing its teeth ridges.
It charged, its great webbed feet striking the marsh water like explosions.