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08 - The God's of Mars - Edgar Rice Burroughs · Daily Sci-Fi Books

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Chapter eight, The Depths of Omean. Now I realized why the Black Pirate
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had kept me engrossed with this strange tail for miles. He had sensed the
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approach of succor, and but for that single tell tale glance, the battleship
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would have been directly above us in another moment, and the boarding party,
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which was doubtless even now swinging in their harness from the ship's keel, would
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have swarmed our deck, placing my rising hope of escape in sudden and total
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eclipse. I was too old a hand in aerial warfare to be at a
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loss now for the right maneuver. Simultaneously, I reversed the engines and dropped
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the little vessel a sheer hundred feet above my head. I could see the
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dangling forms of the boarding party as the battleship raced over us. Then I
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rose at a sharp angle, throwing my speed lever to its last notch.
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Like a bolt from a crossbow. My splendid craft shot its steel prow straight
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at the whirling propellers of the giant above us. If I could but touch
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them, the huge bulk would be disabled for hours, and escape once more
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possible. At the same instant, the sun shot above the horizon, disclosing
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a hundred grim black faces peering over the stern of the battleship upon us.
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At sight of us, a shout of rage went up from a hundred throats.
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Orders were shouted, but it was too late to save the giant propellers,
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and with a crash we rammed them instantly. With the shock of impact,
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I reversed my engine, but my prow was wedged in the hole it
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had made in the battleship's stern. Only a second I hung there before tearing
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away, But that second was amply long to swarm my deck with black devils.
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There was no fight in the first place, there was no room to
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fight. We were simply submerged by numbers. Then, as swords menaced me,
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a command from Exodore stayed the hands of his fellows. Secure them,
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he said, but do not injure them. Several of the pirates already had
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released Exodar. He now personally attended to my disarming and saw that I was
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properly bound. At least he thought that binding was secure. It would have
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been had I been a martian. But I had to smile at the puny
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strands that confined my wrists. When the time came, I could snap them
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as they had been cotton string the girl they bound also, and then they
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fastened us together. In the meantime, they had brought our craft alongside the
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disabled battleship, and soon we were transported to the latter's deck. Fully a
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thousand black men manned the great engine of destruction. Her decks were crowded with
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them as they passed forward as far as discipline would permit, to get a
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glimpse of their captives. The girl's beauty elicited many brutal comments and vulgar jests.
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It was evident that these self thought supermen were far inferior to the red
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men of Barsoom in refinement and in chivalry. My close crop, black hair
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and thurn complexion were the subjects of much comment. When Exodar told his fellow
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nobles of my fighting ability and strange origin, they crowded about me with numerous
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questions. The fact that I wore the harness and metal of a thurn who
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had been killed by a member of my party convinced them that I was an
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enemy of their hereditary foes, and placed me on better footing in their estimation.
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Without exception. The Blacks were handsome men and well built. The officers
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were conspicuous through the wondrous magnificent of their resplendent trappings. Many harnesses were so
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encrusted with gold, platinum, silver, and precious stones as to entirely hide
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the leather. Beneath The harness of the commanding officer was a solid mass of
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diamonds. Against the ebony background of his skin. They blazed out with a
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peculiarly accentuated effulgence. The whole scene was enchanting. The handsome men, the
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barbaric splendor of the accouterments, the polished skeel wood of the deck, the
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gloriously grain suppores of the cabins inlaid with priceless jewels and precious metals in intricate
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and beautiful design, the burnished gold of hand rails, the shining metal of
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the guns. Fedor and I were taken below decks, where, still fast
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bound, we were thrown into a small compartment which contained a single portle As
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our escort left us, they barred the door behind them. We could hear
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the men working on the broken propellers, and from the porthole we could see
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that the vessel was drifting lazily toward the south. For some time, neither
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of us spoke, each was occupied with his own thoughts. For my part,
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I was wondering as to the fate of Tars Tarkas and the girl Thuvia.
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Even if they succeeded in eluding pursuit, they must eventually fall into the
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hands of either red men or green and as fugitives from the valley door,
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they could look for but little else than a swift and terrible death. How
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I wished that I might have accompanied them. It seemed to me that I
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could not fail to impress upon the intelligent red men of Barsoom the wicked deception
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that a cruel and senseless superstition had foisted upon them. Tardos Morse would believe
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me of that I was positive, and that he would have the courage of
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his convictions. My knowledge of his character assured me dejah Thoris would believe me.
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Not a doubt as to that entered my head. Then there were a
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thousand of my red and green warrior friends whom I knew would face eternal damnation
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gladly for my sake, Like Tars Tarkas, where I led, they would
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follow My only danger, lying that should I ever escape the Black pirates,
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it might be to fall into the hands of unfriendly Red or Green men.
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Then it would mean short shrift for me. Well, there seemed little to
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worry about on that score, for the likelihood of my ever escaping the Blacks
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was extremely remote. The girl and I were linked together by a rope which
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permitted us to move only about three or four feet from each other. When
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we had entered the compartment, we had seated ourselves upon a low bench beneath
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the portal. The bench was the only furniture of the room. It was
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of supports wood. The floor, ceiling and walls were of carborundum aluminum,
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a light, impenetrable composition extensively utilized in the construction of Martian fighting ships.
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As I had sat meditating upon the future, my eyes had been riveted upon
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the porthole, which was just level with them. As I sat, suddenly
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I looked toward Fedor. She was regarding me with a strange expression I had
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not before seen upon her face. She was very beautiful. Then instantly her
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white lids veiled her eyes, and I thought I discovered a delicate flush,
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tinging her cheek. Evidently she was embarrassed at having been detected in the act
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of staring at a lesser creature. I thought, do you find the study
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of lower orders interesting? I asked, laughing. She looked up again with
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a nervous but relieved little laugh. Oh, very, she said, especially
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when they have such excellent profiles. It was my turn to flush, but
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I did not. I felt that she was poking fun at me, and
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I admired a brave heart that could look for humor on the road to death,
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and so I laughed with her. Do you know where we are going,
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she said, to solve the mystery of the eternal hereafter, I imagine,
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I replied, I am going to a worse fate than that. She
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said, with a little shudder, What do you mean. I can only
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guess, she replied, since no thurn damsel of all the millions that have
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been stolen away by Black pirates during the ages they have raided our domains has
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ever returned to narrate her experiences among them, That they never take a man
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prisoner lends strength to the belief that the fate of the girls they steal is
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worse than death. Is it not a just retribution. I could not help
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but ask, what do you mean? Do not the thorns themselves do likewise
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with the poor creatures who take the voluntary pilgrimage down the river of mystery?
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Was not Thuvia for fifteen years a plaything and a slave? Is it less
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than just that you should suffer as you have caused others to suffer? You
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do not understand, she replied, We Thurns are holy race. It is
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an honor to a lesser creature to be a slave among us. Did we
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not occasionally save a few of the lower orders that stupidly float down an unknown
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river to an unknown end? All would become the prey of the plant men
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and the apes. But do you not, by every means, encourage the
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superstition among those of the outside world? I argued, That is the wickedness
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of your deeds. Can you tell me why you foster the cruel deception?
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All life on Barsoom, she said, is created solely for the support of
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the race of Therns. How else could we live? Did the outer world
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not furnish our labor and our food? Think you that a thern would demean
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himself by labor? It is true then, that you eat human flesh,
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I asked in horror. She looked at me in pitying commiseration of my ignorance.
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Truly, we eat the flesh of the lower orders. Do not you
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also the flesh of beasts? Yes, I replied, but not the flesh
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of man. As man may eat the flesh of beasts, so may gods
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eat the flesh of man. The Holy Therns are the gods of Barsoom.
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I was disgusted, and I imagined that I showed it. You are an
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unbeliever now, she continued gently, But should we be fortunate enough to escape
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the clutches of the Black pirates and come again to the court of Matai shang,
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I think that we shall find an argument to convince you of the heirs
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of your ways, and she hesitated, Perhaps we shall find a way to
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keep you as as one of us. Again, her eyes dropped to the
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floor, and a faint color suffused her cheek. I could not understand her
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meeting, nor did I for a long time. Dejah Thoris was wont to
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say that in some things I was a veritable simpleton, and I guess that
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she was right. I feared that I would ill requite your father's hospitality,
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I answered, since the first thing that I should do, were I a
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Thern, would be to set an armed guard at the mouth of the river
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Ish to escort the poor, deluded voyagers back to the outer world. Also,
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should I devote my life to the extermination of the hideous plant men and
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their horrible companions, the great white apes. She looked at me, really
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horror struck. No, no, she cried, You must not say such
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terrible, sacrilegious things. You must not even think them. Should they ever
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guess that you entertained such frightful thoughts. Should we chance to regain the temples
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of the therns, they would meet out a frightful death to you. Not
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even my my, again, she flushed and started over. Not even I
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could save you, I said, no more. Evidently it was useless.
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She was even more steeped in superstition than the martians of the outer world.
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They only worshiped a beautiful hope for a life of love and peace and happiness
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in the hereafter. The Thurns worship the hideous plant men and the apes,
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or at least they reverenced them as the abodes of their departed spirits of their
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own dead. At this point, the door of our prison opened to admit
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Exeter. He smiled pleasantly at me, and when he smiled, his expression
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was kindly, anything but cruel or vindictive. Since you cannot escape under any
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circumstances, he said, I cannot see the necessity for keeping you confined below.
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I will cut your bonds and you may come on deck. You will
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witness something very interesting, and as you never shall return to the outer world,
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it will do no harm to permit you to see it. You will
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see what no other than the first born and their slaves know the existence of
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the subterranean entrance to the Holy Land, to the real heaven of Barsoom.
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It will be an excellent lesson for this daughter of the Therns, he added,
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for she shall see the temple of Issus, and Issus perchance shall embrace
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her. Fador's head went high. What blasphemy is this dog of a pirate?
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She cried, Issus would wipe out your entire breed, and you ever
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came within sight of her temple. You have much to learn, Thurne,
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replied Exodar, with an ugly smile. Nor do I envy you the manner
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in which you will learn it. As we came on deck, I saw
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to my surprise that the vessel was passing over a great field of snow and
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ice. As far as the eye could reach in any direction. Nought else
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was visible. There could be but one solution to the mystery. We were
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above the south polar ice cap. Only at the poles of Mars. Is
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there ice or snow upon the planet. No sign of life appeared below us.
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Evidently we were too far south, even for the great fur bearing animals
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which the Martians so delight in hunting. Exodar was at my side as I
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stood looking out over the ship's rail. What course, I asked him,
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A little west of south, he replied, you will see the Orts Valley
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directly. We shall skirt it for a few hundred miles. The Orts Valley,
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I exclaimed, But man, is not there where lie the domains of
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the Therns from which I but just escaped. Yes, answered Exodar, you
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crossed the ice field last night in the long chase that you led us.
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The Orts Valley lies in a mighty depression at the south pole. It is
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sunk thousands of feet below the level of the surrounding country, like a great
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round bowl. A hundred miles from its northern boundary rise the Ortz Mountains,
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which circle the inner Valley of dor In, the exact center of which lies
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the Lost Sea. Of course, on the shore of the sea stands the
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golden Temple of Issus, in the land of the First Born. It is
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there that we are bound. As I looked, I commenced to realize why
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it was that, in all the ages, only one had escaped from the
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valley door. My only wonder was that even the one had been successful,
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to cross this frozen, windswept waste of bleak ice alone and on foot would
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be impossible. Only by air boat could the journey be made. I finished
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aloud. It was thus that one did escape the Thens in bygone times,
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but none has ever escaped the First Born, said Exodar, with a touch
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of pride in his voice. We had now reached the southernmost extremity of the
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great ice Barrier. It ended abruptly in a sheer wall thousands of feet high,
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at the base of which stretched a level valley, broken here and there
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by low rolling hills and little clumps of forest, and with tiny rivers formed
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by the melting of the ice. Barrier at its base. Once we passed
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far above what seemed to be a deep canyon like rift stretching from the ice
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wall on the north across the valley as far as the eye could reach.
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That is the bed of the river Ish, said Exodar. It runs far
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beneath the ice field and below the level of the valley Oortz. But its
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canyon is open here presently. I described what I took to be a village,
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and, pointing it out to Exodar, asked him what it might be.
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It is a village of lost souls, he answered, laughing. This
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strip between the ice barrier and the mountains is considered neutral ground. Some turn
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off from their voluntary pilgrimage down their Ish, and scaling the awful walls of
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its canyon below us, stop in the valley also a slave now, and
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then escape from the theurns and makes his way hither. They do not attempt
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to recapture such, since there is no escape from this outer valley, and
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as a matter of fact, they fear the patrolling cruisers of the first Born
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too much to venture from their own domains. The poor creatures of this outer
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valley are not molested by us since they have nothing that we desire, nor
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are they numerically strong enough to give us an interesting fight, so we too
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leave them alone. There are several villages of them, but they have increased
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in numbers, but little in many years, since they are always warring amongst
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themselves. Now we swung a little north of west, leaving the Valley of
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Lost Souls, and shortly I discerned over our starboard bow what appeared to be
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a black mountain rising from the desolate waste of ice. It was not high
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and seemed to have a flat top. Exodar had left us to attend to
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some duty on the vessel and Fedor and I stood alone beside the rail.
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The girl had not once spoken since we had been brought to the deck.
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Is what he has been telling me true, i asked her? In part.
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Yes, she answered that about the outer valley is true. But what
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he says of the location of the temple Issus in the center of his country
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is false. If it is not false, she hesitated, or it cannot
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be true. It cannot be true. For if it were true, then,
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for countless ages have my people gone to torture and ignanimous death at the
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hands of their cruel enemies, instead of to the beautiful life eternal that we
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have been taught to believe. Issus holds for us. As the lesser Barsomiums
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of the outer world had been lured by Yu to the terrible valley door,
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so may it be that the thorns themselves had been lured by the first born
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to an equally horrid fate. I suggested it would be a stern and awful
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retribution fedor but a just one. I cannot believe it, she said,
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we shall see, I answered, and then we fell silent again, for
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we were rapidly approaching the Black mountains, which, in some indefinable way seemed
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blinked with the answer to our problem. As we neared the dark, truncated
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cone, the vessel's speed was diminished until we barely moved. Then we topped
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the crest of the mountain, and below us I saw, yawning the mouth
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of a huge circular well, the bottom of which was lost in inky blackness.
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The diameter of this enormous pit was fully a thousand feet. The walls
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were smooth and appeared to be composed of black basaltic rock. For a moment,
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the vessel hovered motionless, directly above the center of the gaping void.
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Then slowly she began to settle into the black chasm. Lower and lower she
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sank, until as darkness enveloped us, her lights were thrown on, and
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in the dim halo of her own radiance, the monster battleship dropped on and
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on down into what seemed to me must be the very bowels of Barsoom.
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For quite half an hour we descended, and then the shaft terminated abruptly in
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the dome of a mighty subterranean world. Below us rose and fell the billows
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of a buried sea. A phosphorescent radiance illuminated the scene. Thousands of ships
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dotted the bosom of the ocean. Little islands rose here and there to support
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the strange and colorless vegetation of this strange world. Slowly, and with majestic
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grace, the battleship dropped until she rested on the water. Her great propellers
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had been drawn and housed during our descent of the shaft, and in their
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place had been run out the smaller, but more powerful water propellers. As
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these commenced to revolve, the ship took up its journey once more. Riding
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the new element as buoyantly and as safely as she had the air Fedor and
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I were dumbfounded. Neither had either heard or dreamed that such a world existed
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beneath the surface of Barsoom. Nearly all the vessels we saw were war craft.
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There were a few lighters and barges, but none of the great merchantmen
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such as ply the upper air between the cities of the outer world, here
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is the harbor of the navy of the first Born, said a voice behind
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us, and turning we saw Exodar watching us with an amused smile on his
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lips. This sea, he continued, is larger than Chorus. It receives
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the waters of the lesser sea above it to keep it from filling above a
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certain level. We have four great pumping stations that force the oversupply back into
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the reservoirs far north, from which the Red Men draw the water which irrigates
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their farm lands. A new light burst on me with this explanation. The
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Red Men had always considered it a miracle that caused great columns of water to
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spurt from solid rock of their reservoir sides to increase the supply of the precious
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liquid, which is so scarce in the outer world of Mars. Never had
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there learned men been able to fathom the secret of the source of this enormous
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volume of water. As ages passed, they had simply come to accept it
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as a matter of course, and ceased to question its origin. We passed
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several islands on which were strangely shaped circular buildings, apparently roofless and pierced midway
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between the ground and their tops, with small, heavily barred windows. They
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bore the ear marks of prisons, which were further accentuated by armed guards who
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squatted on low benches without or patrolled the short beach line. Few of these
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islets contained over an acre of ground, but presently we sighted a much larger
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one directly ahead. This proved to be our destination, and the great ship
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was soon made fast against the steep shore. Exodar signaled us to follow him,
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and with a half dozen officers and men, we left the battleship and
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approached a large oval structure a couple of hundred yards from the shore. You
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shall soon see issus, said Exodar to Fador. The few prisoners we take
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are presented to her occasionally she selects slaves from among them to replenish the ranks
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of her handmaidens. None serves Issus above a single year, And there was
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a grim smile on the Black's lips that lent a cruel and sinister meaning to
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his simple statement. Fador, though loath to believe that Issus was allied to
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such as these, had commenced to entertain doubts and fears. She clung very
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closely to me, no longer the proud daughter of the master of life and
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death upon barsoom, but a young, frightened girl in the power of relentless
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enemies. The building which we now entered was entirely roofless. In its center
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was a long tank of water, set below the level of the floor,
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like the swimming pool of Natadorum. Near one side of the pool floated an
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odd looking black object. Whether it were some strange monster of these buried waters
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or a queer raft, I could not at once perceive. We were soon
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to know, however, for as we reached the edge of the pool directly
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above the thing, Exodar cried out a few words in a strange tongue.
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Immediately a hatch cover was raised from the surface of the object, and a
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black seaman sprang from the bowels of the strange craft. Exidar dressed the seamen.
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Transmit to your officer, he said, the commands of Detor Exodar.
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Say to him that Detor Exodar, with officers and men escorting two prisoners,
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would be transported to the gardens of Issus beside the golden temple. Blessed be
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the shell of thy first ancestor most noble. D'attar replied the man, it
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shall be done even as thou sayest, and raising both hands palms backward above
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his head, after the manner of silou which is common to all races of
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Barsoom, he disappeared once more into the entrails of his ship. A moment
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later, an officer, resplendent in the gorgeous trappings of his rank, appeared
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on deck and welcomed Exodar to the vessel. And in the latter's wake we
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filed the board and below the cabin in which we found ourselves extended entirely across
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the ship, having portholes on either side below the water line. No sooner
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were all below than a number of commands were given in accordance, with which
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the hatch was closed and secured, and the vessel commenced to vibrate to the
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rhythmic purr of its machinery. Where can we be going in such a tiny
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pool of water, asked Fodor, not up, I replied, for I
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noticed particularly that while the building is roofless, it is covered with a strong
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metal grating. Then where she asked again, from the appearance of the craft,
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I judge we are going down, I replied. Fador shuddered. For
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such long ages have the waters of Barsoom's seas been a thing of tradition,
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Only that even this daughter of the Thurns, born as she had been,
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within the sight of Mars's only remaining sea, had the same tear of deep
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water, as is a common attribute of all Martians. Presently, the sensation
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of sinking became very apparent. We were going down swiftly. Now we could
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hear the water rushing past the portals, and in the dim light that filtered
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through them to the water beyond, the swirling Eddy's were plainly visible. Fiddor
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grasped my arm. Save me, she whispered, Save me, and your
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every wish shall be granted. Anything within the power of the Holy thorns to
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give will be yours, Faidor. She stumbled a little here, and then,
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in a very low voice, Faidor, already is yours. I felt
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very sorry for the poor child, and placed my hand over hers, where
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it rested on my arm. I presume my motive was misunderstood, for,
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with a swift glance about the apartment to assure herself that we were alone,
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she threw both her arms about my neck and dragged my face down to hers.
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End of Chapter eight