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But I could now see that Saphrar had no idea who he was—or for whom, if anyone, he was working. I was confident that the man was the same as he who had brought Elizabeth Cardwell to this world—he who had seen her in New York and decided she would play her role in his perilous sport—and that thus he had at his disposal an advanced technology—certainly to the level of at least space flight. I did not know, of course, if the technology at his disposal was his own, or that of his kind, or if it were furnished by others—unknown—not seen—who had their own stake in these games of two worlds, perhaps more. He might well be, and I supposed it true, merely an agent—but for whom, or what?—something that would challenge even priest-kings—but, it must be, something that feared priest-kings, or it would already have struck—this world, or Earth—something that wanted priest-kings to die—that the one world, or two, or perhaps even the system of our sun, would be freed for their taking. "How did the gray man know where the golden sphere was?" I asked. "He said once," said Saphrar, "that he was told—" "By whom?" I asked. "I do not know," said Saphrar. - (Nomads of Gor, Chapter )