We carried the raft inside with us,and leaned it against a wall. Then, with drawn swords, we advanced up the inclining corridor, Tan Hadron and I in front and Bal Daxus in the rear, thus protecting Lirai from any ulsios which might be lurking in the shadows.
"It appears that no one has yet discovered how we left," remarked Tan Hadron, "for there are no new footprints in the dust."
"That means that only Talon Gar knew of the secret passage," I said, "and with him dead, Lirai should be quite safe in the same room."
We heard voices in the adjoining passage and ceased speaking then. In a few moments we were once again in the room which contained the rotting carcass of the ulsio.
"Lirai," I said, turning to the girl, "from either corridor this room appears the same as any other of the multitude of rooms,but to us it has a greater meaning, and will be easy to find. I know that you may have your doubts as to its safety, but ape you willing to wait here again?"
She nodded in assent, and, crossing the room, I stepped out into the corridor which led to the Pits, the Throne Room, and, most important, the chamber which held Hin Abtol's frozen army. We cautiously proceeded to the spot where it forked and followed it to a heavy metal portal.
"Halt!" commanded a lone warrior. "Who goes there?"
"Tis I, Bal Daxus, Dwar of the Third Utan."
"Bal Daxus!" exclaimed the guard. "The whole palace has been searching for you, traitor!"
With that he hurled himself at us. Tan Hadron was in the vanguard of our trio, and quickly engaged him in combat. The fellow was good, let there be no denying it, but Tan Hadron of Hastor is superb, and scarcely had they crossed blades ere Hadron was stepping over the dead body of his foe and advancing toward the portal.
"How may we pass? he asked. "I see no latches."
Bal Daxus approached the metal door and turned to the wall beside it, pushing a neatly concealed button. Slowly the massive panel rose until there was room for us to step through. We found ourselves on a balcony overlooking row upon row of blocks of ice, and inside each block was a warrior. These warriors represented every race on Barsoom: red men, yellow men, green men, Black Pirates, »nd even an occasional them and Orovar.
"Half a million souls," commented Tan Hadron, "awaiting their resurrection."
"Once we release them from their icy prisons, what will we do?" asked Bal Daxus. "We'll be caught between them and Hin Abtol's palace warriors."
"I think not,"Isaid. "I plan to enlist their aid."
"I had guessed as much,"said Tan Hadron. "How do we revive them, Bal Daxus?"
The Panar led us up a ramp which led to a large machine that contained many lights and dials, and promptly began pressing buttons and turning knobs. It made no sense to me, but I admired his mastery of the machine.
"Their blocks of ice will soon melt, John Carter," he said at last. "Here is an amplifier through which you may speak to them from here."
I took the microphone and watched the unfolding panorama below me. Here and there the ice had already turned to water, and a fine chemical spray was showered down upon the warriors. This done, their ersite tables began vibrating and soon the bodies were stirring, life returning to their long-frozen limbs.
It was an awesome sight, seeing those half million men return to the world of the living, but I had no time to appreciate it. Putting the microphone to my lips, I waited until I thought they could comprehend what had happened to them, and then I spoke.
"Warriors!" I said."This is John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom. I have just liberated you from your prisons; for this each and every one of you owes me his attention."
"Some of 'you are unaware of your surroundings. You are in Ayathor, a sunken world beneath the surface of Pankor. Hin Abtol brought you here when he was defeated in his war with Helium and Gathol. He intends to use you in his mad scheme of world conquest, and only by acceding to his demands can you ever see the sun again."
A loud groan arose from half a million throats.
"There is but one W8y,"l continued, "by which you can avoid the fate Hin Abtol has planned for you. Most of you have been taken prisoner by him; those few among you who are Panars owe him no allegience.
"I have revived you for a purpose. Should you fail to agree to it, you will once again be encased in ice."I doubted that this could be done, but they had no more knowledge of the new process that I, and it made the proper impression. "Warriors, give me your pledge to aid me in overthrowing Hin Abtol, and if we succeed, you will all be granted your freedom!"
They were silent for a moment, and then one man whom I recognized to be a long-lost Heliumite gave a loud yell: "Down with Hin Abtol!"
More and more of them took up the chant until the din was deafening.
"Listen!" I shouted over the roar. "We have no weapons for you. However, Hin Abtol has no more than thirty thousand men at most, and many of them will join our cause. Kill no one unless they resist.
"You see beside me Tan Hadron of Hastor and Bal Daxus of Pankor; we three will be your leaders. When you are released you will follow us to a branch in the corridors. From there I shall proceed to the Throne Room, Tan Hadron will go to the Pits to release the other prisoners, and Bal Daxus will lead you to the soldier's quarters. You are free to follow whomever you choose."
I turned to Bal Daxus and nodded to him to open the portal all the way.
I was soon approaching the Throne Room with almost two hundred thousand men at my heels. Hin Abtol must have heard us from afar, for when I burst into the room I was greeted by a blast of fire from twenty radium rifles.
I dove to a side, but the vanguard of my forces were mowed down like sitting ducks. Hewing my way through a wall of the Jeddak's loyal officers I drove onward to the throne, where Hin Abtol sat ashen-faced, screaming unheeded commands.
Countless times my blade paused to still a Panar heart forever or quench its thirst in the throat of a new foe.I ceaselessly shouted taunts at my enemies, as is my wont in the heat of battle, and must have accounted for two dozen men before I had time for a quick glance at the door.
To my dismay I saw that the pile of corpses was so high that none of my men could get past them; the dead were stacked from floor to ceiling.
I looked back at the throne: Hin Abtol was gone! My eyes fell on the red curtain behind the throne, and I knew that he could have retreated to no other place in so short a time. There was only one man standing in my way, and I recognized him immediately: it was Rab-Zov.
With a single bound I was upon him. He had barely raised his sword to defend himself before his head rolled to the floor and I ran through the curtains.
There was a door, and this I opened and raced through.lt led to another part of the catacombs, and far ahead I could see the figure of the cowardly Jeddak as he ran for his life.
CHAPTER XII ADVENTURE’S END
I pursued Hin Abtol with great leaps and bounds that quickly lessened the distance between us. When the tyrant sawi that escape was impossible he drew his sword and turned to face me.
"Let us see," I said, engaging him, "if you are as excellent a swordsman as you told your people you were when you returned from Horz with my stolen flier four years ago, and if you are brave enough to face me when my hands are not bound."
He said nothing, but began fighting like a cornered ulsio. His terror increased his proficiency, and though I touched him a hundred times I could not deliver the fatal blow.
Suddenly there came to our ears a great cheer from the Throne Room.
"Did you hear that, Hin Abtol?" I said. "Your warriors have capitulated to your frozen army. Your empire is lost."
My words struck home, and the arrogant tyrant's mind snapped. He began chattering and gibbering like a lunatic, and tears rolled down his face even as he pressed on with his attack. He was a sorry figure, but I could feel no pity for a man who had destroyed so many innocent lives, and shortly I ran my sword through his putrid heart.
I returned to a scene of triumph and elation in the Throne Roo
m. It was jammed with my men, and they gave me a rousing welcome. Tan Hadron soon appeared, and not long after that Bal Daxus returned; both had been completely successful in their missions.
"Long live John Carter!" cried one of the warriors. "Long live John Carter, Jeddak of Ayathor!"
I raised my hand to still the cheering voices.
"Thank you, my comrades," I said, "but the Jeddak of Ayathor should be one of your countrymen; and, as you may know, Pankor has had no
Jeddak since the defeat of Hin Abtol three years ago. It, too, needs a firm and noble ruler."
"Warriors!" I continued. "How sounds Bal Daxus, Jeddak of Pankor and Ayathor?"
Every sword in the room was raised in boisterious approval, and with that act the dwar who had chosen his honor ahead of his country became the Jeddak of the latter.
There was a wild victory celebration throughout Ayathor while the fliers were being made ready to transport those who wished to leave for the surface of the planet,and before I departed for Helium with Tan Hadron, I had the pleasure of attending the ceremony which forever united the new Jeddak with Lirai, who we had found greatly worried but quite safe in the room where we had left her.
Our homecoming to Helium was celebrated by a great festival At which Tan Hadron, and I were the guests of honor. The entire world had given me up for dead, and the news of my return brought greetings and visits from jeds and jeddaks the world over.
Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark and my greatest friend, was there to greet me,and there were tears of joy in the fierce green warrior's eyes. Carthoris, Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, Kulan Tith, Jedaak of Kaol, Talu, Xodar,Kantos Kan, Hor Vastus, and all my other comrades of peace and war were present too, but I fear that I took little notice of them,for I was too busy enjoying the only honor I ever cared for: that of once again putting mv arms around my incomparable Dejah Thoris.
EPILOGUE
His narrative ended,
John Carter stood up and stretched his powerful frame.
"Did you enjoy my story?"he asked pleasantly.
"Oh, yes!" I exclaimed. "How long were you in Ayathor?
"Unbelieveable as it seemed to me, almost a year. I suppose most of it was spent in the Pits."
"That must have happened many years ago," I said. "What has taken place since then?"
"Many strange intrigues and adventures," he replied. "Adventure and I seem to attract one another."
"Coi’ld you tell me some more of your experiences?" I asked.
He slowly looked out the window, across the silent Arizona desert.
"The sun will soon be rising over the hills," he said at last, "and I must be gone."
"Can't you remain a little longer?"I pleaded.
He shook his head. "The woman I love and the planet that gave her to me are beckoning. I must return to them."
"Will you come back someday?" I asked hopefully.
"Perhaps," he half-promised, the trace of a smile flickering about his lips. "Perhaps I will."
And with that, he was gone.
The End
Why I Wrote Forgotten Sea of Mars
Mike Resnick
Copyright © 2000
Introduction Copyright © 2000
Introduction
David Bruce Bozarth
Behind any legend there are bits of real fact and real people. One of the most enduring "legends" of ERB fandom is the Barsoomian pastiche written by a young boy, Forgotten Sea of Mars. The legend continues to exist as there are few copies of this story available for ERB collectors.
Young Mike Resnick(1942-) grew up and eventually became a writer: a Hugo award winning author. He has maintained his connection with ERB friends over the years--both old and new. I first met Mike on Jim Thompson's ERBCOF-L list back in 1997. About once a year we exchange an email or two. This last exchange included a request for a short article for ERBmania! as regards how Forgotten Sea of Mars came about and the state of ERB fandom at the time. Mr. Resnick graciously sent the following.
* * *
I wrote THE FORGOTTEN SEA OF MARS in 1962 or 1963 because at the time I wanted nothing more than to write books in the style of Edgar Rice Burroughs. These days I want nothing less than to do so.
As I recall, it took 8 nights and an afternoon.
When I was 12 or 13 years old, I had read Ray Palmer's ridiculous attempt to get Stu Byrne ("John Bloodstone") appointed ERB's legal successor because of TARZAN ON MARS, and since I thought I'd never get a chance to read it -- years later I did get my hands on a copy; it's pretty awful -- I thought I'd write my own.
Why would Tarzan go to Mars? Because John Carter needed help. Why would John Carter need help from Tarzan rather than the millions of men under his command? Because Tarzan could bring a talent they didn't have -- he could swim. I wrote perhaps 40 pages on it, then set it aside (not many 12-year-olds write 75,000-word books) and never thought about it again until Caz offered to publish a novella using ERB's characters. I stuck Tarzan back in the jungle where he belonged, kept the water, and made it a sequel to LLANA OF GATHOL.
A couple of years later I replaced all of ERB's characters with my own, kept a number of the plot elements, set it on Ganymede, and titled it THE GODDESS OF GANYMEDE. I sold it to Don Grant in hardcover, then sold it and a sequel to Paperback Library in paperback, back in the late 1960s. They're pretty good Burroughs pastiches, but they're absolutely terrible Resnick books. I didn't write any science fiction all during the 1970s to give people time to forget. Then I came back to the field, writing things that were important to me rather than things that were important to Burroughs, and the record speaks for itself: 40 novels, 130 stories, editor of 25 anthologies, 4 Hugos, 19 Hugo nominations, a few bestsellers, and major awards not only in America but also in France, Japan, Poland, Spain, and Croatia.
I'm sorry to admit it, and I don't mean it as a perjorative...but I simply outgrew Burroughs. I haven't picked up one of his books in perhaps 20 years now. But I appreciate what he did, and I still enjoy the company of many of my old friends in Burroughs fandom.
-- Mike Resnick (2000)
Mike’s editing a Burroughs anthology
Posted on January 23, 2012 by Mike
Bob Garcia and I will be editing an anthology, The Worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs, for Baen Books. It will feature all new stories using ERB’s characters and worlds, with one exception: we’ll also be running my novella, “The Forgotten Sea of Mars”, which helped ERB-dom become the only Burroughs fanzine ever to win a Hugo back in 1966; this will be its first appearance in 47 years. As for the rest, we’ve got committments from a bunch truly outstanding writers, and I think the book will be a delight for any reader who ever fell under the spell of Edgar Rice Burroughs. No publication date yet; I’d guess aboout a year. -- Mike Resnick (2012)
* * *
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER I RAB-ZOV
CHAPTER II A UNIQUE DISCOVERY
CHAPTER III AYATHOR
CHAPTER IV "TO THE PITS!"
CHAPTER V THE PITS OF AYATHOR
CHAPTER VI HIN-ABTOL
CHAPTER VII THE CHAMBER OF MADNESS
CHAPTER VIII THE SECRET PASSAGE
CHAPTER IX REUNION AND PURSUIT
CHAPTER X THE ISLAND OF THE DEAD
CHAPTER XI THE FROZEN ARMY
CHAPTER XII ADVENTURE’S END
EPILOGUE
Why I Wrote Forgotten Sea of Mars
Mike’s editing a Burroughs anthology
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The Forgotten Sea of Mars Page 7
