I think this way of doing things will be helpful to an English reader. An exception, though perhaps not the only one, is the “pasang,” a convenient, often-encountered linear measure, easily graspable, I think. It is, as nearly as I can determine, having paced it out long ago, between pasang stones in the vicinity of Ko-ro-ba, some seven tenths of an English mile.

“The air,” she said, “exhilarates me!”

“The air has not been fouled,” I said. “Goreans love their world.”

“It is all so beautiful,” she breathed, wonderingly.

“Earth,” I said, “was doubtless once much like this.”

“The gravity,” she said, “is much like that of the Steel World.”

“It should be identical,” I said. “The rotation of the Steel Worlds, which produces their surrogate gravity, is arranged to simulate that of Gor.”

“There is a purpose in that?” she said, uneasily.

“Certainly,” I said. “The Kurii want Gor. Would you not want Gor, as well?”

“Given the fall of Agamemnon,” she said, “Gor has nothing to fear.”

“That is false,” I said. “Agamemnon wished to act unilaterally, and have Gor for himself. Many others, and even many in his own world, found that ambition unacceptable, or, at least, unrealistic. The denizens of the Steel Worlds, on the whole, wish to obtain Gor cooperatively, and, after that, they can dispute it amongst themselves.”

“And would?”

“Of course,” I said. “They are Kur.”

“I suppose humans might, as well,” she said.

“That explains much of the history of Earth,” I said, “competition for territory, resources, and such.”

“And women?” she said.

“Certainly,” I said, “women are highly desirable resources.”

“As loot, as properties, and slaves,” she said.

“Of course,” I said. “They are always valuable, as counters of wealth, and such.”