"What I don't understand," said Cassie to Luc, as they stood in a small copse over looking Ar, the largest city on Gor, with it's Towers, high linking Bridges and Battlements, "and never have, is why The Creator let this planet go it's own way, I mean, you know as well as I that in the early days – not the really early early days, but the recorded ones on Earth – if a Civilisation went tits up, there would be an intervention," the euphemism wasn't lost on Luc, whose own career had been intervened with and brought crashing down by Michael, "but ever since the first humanoids began to codify this place and enshrined Female Slavery as part of a 'God-given' right that belonged to Males, and once they had realised the means to abduct and enslave Earth Women, a 'blind eye' seems to have been turned and few people on Earth could have guessed that it was going on: thousands of girls and women every year, millions probably, from all over the planet, disappear into thin air and many of them find themselves here, with no hope of ever going back home – but why is it allowed?" and Luc handed her a cigarette and lit it for her, before commenting: "if I tell you something, you must first promise me that it goes no further!" and Cassie took a long, slow drag, the first for eighteen months, since she had been born as Little Levy Balquhidder, in Melrose: "okay," she let the word out with a stream of smoke and Luc gave a tight smile: "the Goreans are said to worship Priest-Kings, who created Gor and it's inhabitants, but it was Michael who put it here, against The Creator's express order – Order, with a Capital O!" and Cassie stared at him: "but how could he get away with it?" she couldn't believe her ears; "oh, he puts it about that he has a phobia about little holes, can you believe that? he invented Worm-Holes and he says he suffers from Trypophobia, you couldn't make it up, Cass, really, for an Archangel he really is more devious than you can imagine; he's the harbinger of all the things that went wrong in this Universe, in those early, early days, do you remember the dreams we all had, that this time it was all going to work out right? The Creator really went at it full-tilt, working Day and Night – even before there were such things – but every now and then, things went just that little bit awry; the prototypes getting turfed out of The Garden and being left to fend for themselves, they had no idea, they didn't know where to find food that it was safe to eat, they couldn't cook, they were set loose without a stitch to their back and that was Michael's doing!" but Cassie shook her head: "no, Luc, you must have this wrong, Michael was always so close to The Creator, why would he undermine the Concept?" and Luc replied, earnestly: "oh he winds himself around The Creator like a Poodle, but he's actually a Rottweiler in disguise," and Cassie thought she was going to laugh at this laconic description of Michael, one of the Archangels she had most admired throughout her thousands of lives, but while, on the one hand, she wanted to challenge Luc, yet, on the other, she needed to hear how he could justify his assertions – correct that: if . . . . .