Post by Daubee on Dec 5, 2012 22:03:09 GMT -5
“You wonder,” he said, “why the numerous, rather obvious deficits in our technology have not been repaired – in spite of the Priest-Kings. It crosses your mind that there must exist minds on this world capable of designing such things as, say, rifles, and armored vehicles.”
“Surely such things must be produced,” I urged.
“And you are right,” he said grimly. “From time to time they are, but their owners are then destroyed, bursting into flame.”
“Like the envelope of blue metal?”
“Yes,” he said. “It is Flame Death merely to possess a weapon of the interdicted sort. Sometimes bold individuals create or acquire such war materials and sometimes for as long as a year escape the Flame Death, but sooner or later they are struck down.” His eyes were hard. “I once saw it happen,” he said. Tarnsman of Gor, page 19
It is Flame Death merely to possess a weapon of the interdicted sort. Sometimes bold individuals create or acquire such war materials and sometimes for as long as a year escape the Flame Death, but sooner or later they are struck down."
Tarnsman of Gor, pages 31 - 32
I had heard of the Flame Death from my father and the Older Tarl - that legendary fate which overtook those who had transgressed the will of the Priest-Kings. I knew almost nothing of the fabled Priest-Kings, but I did know that something of the sort must exist, for I had been brought to Gor by an advanced technology, and I knew that some force or power lay in the mysterious Sardar Mountains. I did not believe that the Priest-Kings were divine, but I did believe that they lived and that they were aware of what occurred on Gor and that from time to time they made known their will. I did not even know if they were human or non-human, but, whatever they might be, they were, with their advanced science and technology, for all practical purposes, the gods of this world.
On the back of my tarn, I waited, not knowing if I was to be singled out for the Flame Death, not knowing if I, like the mysterious blue envelope in the mountains of New Hampshire, so long ago, was doomed to explode in a devouring blue flame."
Tarnsman of Gor, pages 206 - 207
On a green field somewhere, I had no idea where, a man in the garments of the Caste of Builders emerged from what was apparently an underground cave. He looked furtively about himself as though he feared he might be observed. Then, satisfied that he was alone, he returned to the cave and emerged once more carrying what resembled a hollow pipe. From a hole in the top of this, pipe there protruded what resembled the wick of a lamp.
The man from the Caste of Builders then sat cross-legged on the ground and took from the pouch slung at his waist a tiny, cylindrical Gorean fire-maker, a small silverfish tube commonly used for igniting cooking fires. He unscrewed the cap and I could see the tip of the implement, as it was exposed to the air, begin to glow a fiery red. He touched the fire-maker to the wick-like projection in the hollow tube and, screwing the fire-maker shut, replaced it in his pouch. The wick burned slowly downward toward the hole in the pipe. When it was almost there the man stood up and holding the pipe in both hands trained it at a nearby rock. There was a sudden flash of fire and a crack of sound from the hollow tube as some projectile hurtled through it and shattered against the rock. The face of the rock was blackened and some stone chipped from its surface. The quarrel of a crossbow would have done more damage.
“Forbidden weapon,” said Sarm.
The Priest-King monitoring the observation cube touched a knob on his control panel.
“Stop!” I cried.
Before my horrified eyes in the observation cube the man seemed suddenly to vaporize in a sudden blasting flash of blue fire. The man had disappeared. Another brief incandescent flash destroyed the primitive tube he had carried. Then once again, aside from the blackened grass and stone, the scene was peaceful. A small, curious bird darted to the top of the stone, and then hopped from it to the blackened grass to hunt for grubs.
“You killed that man,” I said.
“He may have been carrying on forbidden experiments for years,” said Sarm. “We were fortunate to catch him. Sometimes we must wait until others are using the device for purposes of war and then destroy many men. It is better this way, more economical of material.”
“But you killed him,” I said.
“Of course,” said Sarm, “he broke the law of Priest-Kings.”
“What right have you to make the law for him?” I asked.
“The right of a higher-order organism to control a lower-order organism,” said Sarm. “The same right you have to slaughter the bosk and the tabuk, to feed on the flesh of the tarsk.”
Priest-Kings of Gor, pages 138-139
“Surely such things must be produced,” I urged.
“And you are right,” he said grimly. “From time to time they are, but their owners are then destroyed, bursting into flame.”
“Like the envelope of blue metal?”
“Yes,” he said. “It is Flame Death merely to possess a weapon of the interdicted sort. Sometimes bold individuals create or acquire such war materials and sometimes for as long as a year escape the Flame Death, but sooner or later they are struck down.” His eyes were hard. “I once saw it happen,” he said. Tarnsman of Gor, page 19
It is Flame Death merely to possess a weapon of the interdicted sort. Sometimes bold individuals create or acquire such war materials and sometimes for as long as a year escape the Flame Death, but sooner or later they are struck down."
Tarnsman of Gor, pages 31 - 32
I had heard of the Flame Death from my father and the Older Tarl - that legendary fate which overtook those who had transgressed the will of the Priest-Kings. I knew almost nothing of the fabled Priest-Kings, but I did know that something of the sort must exist, for I had been brought to Gor by an advanced technology, and I knew that some force or power lay in the mysterious Sardar Mountains. I did not believe that the Priest-Kings were divine, but I did believe that they lived and that they were aware of what occurred on Gor and that from time to time they made known their will. I did not even know if they were human or non-human, but, whatever they might be, they were, with their advanced science and technology, for all practical purposes, the gods of this world.
On the back of my tarn, I waited, not knowing if I was to be singled out for the Flame Death, not knowing if I, like the mysterious blue envelope in the mountains of New Hampshire, so long ago, was doomed to explode in a devouring blue flame."
Tarnsman of Gor, pages 206 - 207
On a green field somewhere, I had no idea where, a man in the garments of the Caste of Builders emerged from what was apparently an underground cave. He looked furtively about himself as though he feared he might be observed. Then, satisfied that he was alone, he returned to the cave and emerged once more carrying what resembled a hollow pipe. From a hole in the top of this, pipe there protruded what resembled the wick of a lamp.
The man from the Caste of Builders then sat cross-legged on the ground and took from the pouch slung at his waist a tiny, cylindrical Gorean fire-maker, a small silverfish tube commonly used for igniting cooking fires. He unscrewed the cap and I could see the tip of the implement, as it was exposed to the air, begin to glow a fiery red. He touched the fire-maker to the wick-like projection in the hollow tube and, screwing the fire-maker shut, replaced it in his pouch. The wick burned slowly downward toward the hole in the pipe. When it was almost there the man stood up and holding the pipe in both hands trained it at a nearby rock. There was a sudden flash of fire and a crack of sound from the hollow tube as some projectile hurtled through it and shattered against the rock. The face of the rock was blackened and some stone chipped from its surface. The quarrel of a crossbow would have done more damage.
“Forbidden weapon,” said Sarm.
The Priest-King monitoring the observation cube touched a knob on his control panel.
“Stop!” I cried.
Before my horrified eyes in the observation cube the man seemed suddenly to vaporize in a sudden blasting flash of blue fire. The man had disappeared. Another brief incandescent flash destroyed the primitive tube he had carried. Then once again, aside from the blackened grass and stone, the scene was peaceful. A small, curious bird darted to the top of the stone, and then hopped from it to the blackened grass to hunt for grubs.
“You killed that man,” I said.
“He may have been carrying on forbidden experiments for years,” said Sarm. “We were fortunate to catch him. Sometimes we must wait until others are using the device for purposes of war and then destroy many men. It is better this way, more economical of material.”
“But you killed him,” I said.
“Of course,” said Sarm, “he broke the law of Priest-Kings.”
“What right have you to make the law for him?” I asked.
“The right of a higher-order organism to control a lower-order organism,” said Sarm. “The same right you have to slaughter the bosk and the tabuk, to feed on the flesh of the tarsk.”
Priest-Kings of Gor, pages 138-139