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We had learned in Lydius that her encollaring was fitting for her. I had wanted her to be returned to Earth, to be removed from the perils of Gor, to be safe. She had fled. What if she had gone to Earth? I thought of her briefly amidst the hypocrisies and pollutions of Earth, on the pavements, reflected in the shop windows, in miniskirts or tailored suits, seeming a woman and yet in that raging, mechanistic, politically pathological culture, brought about by the organized activities of misfits and haters, radically estranged from her femininity, concerned with the petty climbings and scratchings of that world, coughing in its bizarre air, sickened by its poisoned foods, contemptuous of its men, scorning them, knowing that they were not masters, but nothings, infantile, entrammeled futilities, knowing that she could invoke engineered laws at a murmur that would, if it seemed appropriate, brush them aside from her paths of loveless ambition, knowing that she in the pursuit of her approved projects had little to fear from them, that she could rely on her way being smoothed, in a thousand ways, by pervasive, negative conditioning programs to which they had been unwittingly subjected, programs that rendered them confused, weak, docile, trivial, and insecure, knowing that she, in attempting to bring her ventures to fruition, could always call upon a hundred inculcated rhetorics to which they had been trained to respond, like salivating spaniels, rhetorics that would render them ineffective and innocuous, rhetorics that would reduce, neutralize, and immobilize them. Let such weaklings rejoice in their unmanning, and pride themselves on their lack of virility. Of what other accomplishments could they boast? I wondered if she could have found her fulfillment there, could she have been happy there? Gor was perilous, and beautiful, and primitive. Here, for better or for worse, was a natural, male-dominant world. - (Tribesmen of Gor, Chapter )