The Collected John Carter of Mars (Volume 2)

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  The fliers were peculiar looking contrivances, low, squat, with rounded bows and sterns and covered decks, their every line proclaiming them as cargo carriers built for anything but speed. One was much smaller than the other two and a second was evidently undergoing repairs. The third I entered and examined carefully. Gor Hajus was with me and pointed out several places where we might hide with little likelihood of discovery unless it were suspected that we might be aboard, and that of course constituted a very real danger; so much so that I had about decided to risk all aboard the small flier, which Gor Hajus assured me would be the fastest of the three, when Dar Tarus stuck his head into the ship and motioned me to come quickly.

  “There is someone about,” he said when I reached his side.

  “Where?” I demanded.

  “Come,” he said, and led me to the rear of the hangar, which was flush with the wall of the building upon which it stood, and pointed through one of the windows into the inner garden where, to my consternation, I saw Ras Thavas walking slowly to and fro. For an instant I was sick with despair, for I knew that no ship could leave that roof unseen while anyone was abroad in the garden beneath, and Ras Thavas least of all people in the world; but suddenly a great light dawned upon me. I called the three close to me and explained my plan.

  Instantly they grasped the possibilities in it and a moment later we had run the small flier out upon the roof and turned her nose towards the east, away from Toonol. Then Gor Hajus entered her, set the various controls as we had decided, opened the throttle, slipped back to the roof. The four of us hastened into the hangar and ran to the rear window where we saw the ship moving slowly and gracefully out over the garden and the head of Ras Thavas, whose ears must instantly have caught the faint purring of the motor, for he was looking up by the time we reached the window.

  Instantly he hailed the ship and stepping back from the window that he might not see me I answered: “Good-bye, Ras Thavas! It is I, Vad Varo, going out into a strange world to see what it is like. I shall return. The spirits of your ancestors be with you until then.” That was a phrase I had picked up from reading in Ras Thavas’ library and I was quite proud of it.

  “Come back at once,” he shouted up in reply, “or you will be with the spirits of your own ancestors before another day is done.”

  I made no reply. The ship was now at such a distance that I feared my voice might no longer seem to come from it and that we should be discovered. Without more delay we concealed ourselves aboard one of the remaining fliers, that upon which no work was being done, and there commenced as long and tiresome a period of waiting as I can recall ever having passed through.

  I had at last given up any hope of the ship’s being flown that day when I heard voices in the hangar, and presently the sound of footsteps aboard the flier. A moment later a few commands were given and almost immediately the ship moved slowly out into the open.

  The four of us were crowded into a small compartment built into a tiny space between the forward and aft starboard buoyancy tanks. It was very dark and poorly ventilated, having evidently been designed as a storage closet to utilize otherwise waste space. We dared not converse for fear of attracting attention to our presence, and for the same reason we moved about as little as possible, since we had no means of knowing but that some member of the crew might be just beyond the thin door that separated us from the main cabin of the ship. Altogether we were most uncomfortable; but the distance to Toonol is not so great but that we might hope that our situation would soon be changed—at least if Toonol was to be the destination of the ship. Of this we soon had cheering hope. We had been out but a short time when, faintly, we heard a hail and then the motors were immediately shut down and the ship stopped.

  “What ship?” we heard a voice demand, and from aboard our own came the reply:

  “The Vosar, Tower of Thavas for Toonol.” We heard a scraping as the other ship touched ours.

  “We are coming aboard to search you in the name of Vobis Kan, Jeddak of Toonol. Make way!” shouted one from the other ship. Our cheer had been of short duration. We heard the shuffling of many feet and Gor Hajus whispered in my ear.

  “What shall we do?” he asked.

  I slipped my short-sword into his hand. “Fight!” I replied.

  “Good, Vad Varo,” he replied, and then I handed him my pistol and told him to pass it on to Dar Tarus. We heard the voices again, but nearer now.

  “What ho!” cried one. “It is Bal Zak himself, my old friend Bal Zak!”

  “None other,” replied a deep voice. “And whom did you expect to find in command of the Vosar other than Bal Zak?”

  “Who could know but that it might have been this Vad Varo himself, or even Gor Hajus,” said the other, “and our orders are to search all ships.”

  “I would that they were here,” replied Bal Zak, “for the reward is high. But how could they, when Ras Thavas himself with his own eyes saw them fly off in the Pinsar before dawn this day and disappear in the east?”

  “Right you are, Bal Zak,” agreed the other, “and it were a waste of time to search your ship. Come men! to our own!”

  I could feel the muscles about my heart relax with the receding footfalls of Vobis Kan’s warriors as they quitted the deck of the Vosar for their own ship, and my spirits rose with the renewed purring of our own motor as Ras Thavas’ flier again got under way. Gor Hajus bent his lips close to my ear.

  “The spirits of our ancestors smile upon us,” he whispered. “It is night and the darkness will aid in covering our escape from the ship and the landing-stage.”

  “What makes you think it is night?” I asked.

  “Vobis Kan’s ship was close by when it hailed and asked our name. By daylight it could have seen what ship we were.”

  He was right. We had been locked in that stuffy hole since before dawn, and while I had thought that it had been for a considerable time, I also had realized that the darkness and the inaction and the nervous strain would tend to make it seem much longer than it really had been; so that I would not have been greatly surprised had we made Toonol by daylight.

  The distance from the Tower of Thavas to Toonol is inconsiderable, so that shortly after Vobis Kan’s ship had spoken to us we came to rest upon the landing-stage at our destination. For a long time we waited, listening to the sounds of movement aboard the ship and wondering, upon my part at least, as to what the intentions of the captain might be. It was quite possible that Bal Zak might return to Thavas this same night, especially if he had come to Toonol to fetch a rich or powerful patient to the laboratories; but if he had come only for supplies he might well lie here until the morrow. This much I had learned from Gor Hajus, my own knowledge of the movements of the fliers of Ras Thavas being considerably less than nothing; for, though I had been months a lieutenant of the master surgeon, I had learned only the day before of the existence of his small fleet, it being according to the policy of Ras Thavas to tell me nothing unless the telling of it coincided with and furthered his own plans.

  Questions which I asked he always answered, if he reasoned that the effects would not be harmful to his own interests, but he volunteered nothing that he did not particularly wish me to know; and the fact that there were no windows in the outside walls of the building facing towards Toonol, that I had never before the previous day been upon the roof and that I never had seen a ship sail over the inner court towards the east all tended to explain my ignorance of the fleet and its customary operations.

  We waited quietly until silence fell upon the ship, betokening either that the crew had retired for the night or that they had gone down into the city. Then, after a whispered consultation with Gor Hajus, we decided to make an attempt to leave the flier. It was our purpose to seek a hiding place within the tower of the landing-stage from which we might investigate possible avenues of escape into the city, either at once or upon the morrow when we might more easily mix with the crowd that Gor Hajus said would certainly be in evidence from a few
hours after sunrise.

  Cautiously I opened the door of our closet and looked into the main cabin beyond. It lay in darkness. Silently we filed out. The silence of the tomb lay upon the flier, but from far below arose the subdued noises of the city. So far, so good! Then, without sound, without warning, a burst of brilliant light illuminated the interior of the cabin. I felt my fingers tighten upon my sword-hilt as I glanced quickly about.

  Directly opposite us, in the narrow doorway of a small cabin, stood a tall man whose handsome harness betokened the fact that he was no common warrior. In either hand he held a heavy Barsoomian pistol, into the muzzles of which we found ourselves staring.

  chapter VIII

  HANDS UP!

  IN QUIET TONES he spoke the words of the Barsoomian equivalent of our Earthly hands up! The shadow of a grim smile touched his lips, and as he saw us hesitate to obey his commands he spoke again.

  “Do as I tell you and you will be well off. Keep perfect silence. A raised voice may spell your doom; a pistol shot most assuredly.”

  Gor Hajus raised his hands above his head and we others followed his example.

  “I am Bal Zak,” announced the stranger. My heart slumped.

  “Then you had better commence firing,” said Gor Hajus, “for you will not take us alive and we are four to one.”

  “Not so fast, Gor Hajus,” admonished the captain of the Vosar, “until you learn what is in my mind.”

  “That, we already know for we heard you speak of the large reward that awaited the captor of Vad Varo and Gor Hajus,” snapped the assassin of Toonol.

  “Had I craved that reward so much I could have turned you over to the dwar of Vobis Kan’s ship when he boarded us,” said Bal Zak.

  “You did not know we were aboard the Vosar,” I reminded him.

  “Ah, but I did.”

  Gor Hajus snorted his disbelief.

  “How then,” Bal Zak reminded us, “was I able to be ready upon this very spot when you emerged from your hiding place? Yes, I knew that you were aboard.”

  “But how?” demanded Dar Tarus.

  “It is immaterial,” replied Bal Zak, “but to satisfy your natural curiosity I will tell you that I have quarters in a small room in the Tower of Thavas, my windows overlook the roof and the hangar. My long life spent aboard fliers has made me very sensitive to every sound of a ship—motors changing their speed will awaken me in the dead of night, as quickly as will their starting or their stopping. I was awakened by the starting of the motors of the Pinsar; I saw three of you upon the roof and the fourth drop from the deck of the flier as she started and my judgment told me that the ship was being sent out unmanned for some reason of which I had no knowledge. It was too late for me to prevent the act and so I waited in silence to learn what would follow. I saw you hasten into the hangar and I heard Ras Thavas’ hail and your reply, and then I saw you board the Vosar. Immediately I descended to the roof and ran noiselessly to the hangar, apprehending that you intended making away with this ship; but there was no one about the controls; and from a tiny port in the control room, through which one has a view of the main cabin, I saw you enter the closet. I was at once convinced that your only purpose was to stow away for Toonol and consequently, aside from keeping an eye upon your hiding place, I went about my business as usual.”

  “And you did not advise Ras Thavas?” I asked.

  “I advised no one,” he replied. “Years ago I learned to mind my own business, to see all, to hear all and to tell nothing unless it profited me to do so.”

  “But you said that the reward is high for our apprehension,” Gor Hajus reminded him. “Would it not be profitable to collect it?”

  “There are in the breasts of honourable men,” replied Bal Zak, “forces that rise superior to the lust for gold, and while Toonolians are supposedly a people free from the withering influences of sentiment yet I for one am not totally unconscious of the demand of gratitude. Six years ago, Gor Hajus, you refused to assassinate my father, holding that he was a good man, worthy to live and one that had once befriended you slightly. To-day, through his son, you reap your reward and in some measure are repaid for the punishment that was meted out to you by Vobis Kan because of your refusal to slay the sire of Bal Zak. I have sent my crew away that none aboard the Vosar but myself might have knowledge of your presence. Tell me your plans and command me in what way I may be of further service to you.”

  “We wish to reach the streets, unobserved,” replied Gor Hajus. “Can you but help us in that we shall not put upon your shoulders further responsibility for our escape. You have our gratitude and in Toonol, I need not remind you, the gratitude of Gor Hajus is a possession that even the Jeddak has craved.”

  “Your problem is complicated,” said Bal Zak, after a moment of thought, “by the personnel of your party. The ape would immediately attract attention and arouse suspicion. Knowing much of Ras Thavas’ experiments I realized at once this morning, after watching him with you, that he had the brain of a man; but this very fact would attract to him and to you the closer attention of the masses.”

  “I do not need acquaint them with the fact,” growled Hovan Du. “To them I need be but a captive ape. Are such unknown in Toonol?”

  “Not entirely, though they are rare,” replied Bal Zak. “But there is also the white skin of Vad Varo! Ras Thavas appears to have known nothing of the presence of the ape with you; but he full well knew of Vad Varo, and your description has been spread by every means at his command. You would be recognized immediately by the first Toonolian that lays eyes upon you, and then there is Gor Hajus. He has been as dead for six years, yet I venture there is scarce a Toonolian that broke the shell prior to ten years ago who does not know the face of Gor Hajus as well as he knows that of his own mother. The Jeddak himself was not better known to the people of Toonol than Gor Hajus. That leaves but one who might possibly escape suspicion and detection in the streets of Toonol.”

  “If we could but obtain weapons for these others,” I suggested, “we might even yet reach the house of Gor Hajus’ friend.”

  “Fight your way through the city of Toonol?” demanded Bal Zak.

  “If there is no other way we should have to,” I replied.

  “I admire the will,” commented the commander of the Vosar, “but fear that the flesh is without sufficient strength. Wait! there is a way—perhaps. On the stage just below this there is a public depot where equilibrimotors are kept and rented. Could we find the means to obtain four of these there would be a chance, at least, for you to elude the air patrols and reach the house of Gor Hajus’ friend; and I think I see a way to the accomplishment of that. The landing tower is closed for the night but there are several watchmen distributed through it at different levels. There is one at the equilibrimotor depot and, as I happen to know, he is a devotee of jetan. He would rather play jetan than attend to his duties as watchman. I often remain aboard the Vosar at night and occasionally he and I indulge in a game. I will ask him up to-night and while he is thus engaged you may go to the depot, help yourselves to equilibrimotors and pray to your ancestors that no air patrol suspects you as you cross the city towards your destination. What think you of this plan, Gor Hajus?”

  “It is splendid,” replied the assassin. “And you, Vad Varo?”

  “If I knew what an equilibrimotor is I might be in a better position to judge the merits of the plan,” I replied. “However, I am satisfied to abide by the judgment of Gor Hajus. I can assure you, Bal Zak, of our great appreciation, and as Gor Hajus has put the stamp of his approval upon your plan I can only urge you to arrange that we may put it into effect with as little delay as possible.”

  “Good!” exclaimed Bal Zak. “Come with me and I will conceal you until I have lured the watchman to the jetan game within my cabin. After that your fate will be in your own hands.”

  We followed him from the ship on to the deck of the landing-stage and close under the side of the Vosar opposite that from which the watchman must appr
oach the ship and enter it. Then, bidding us good luck, Bal Zak departed.

  From the summit of the landing tower I had my first view of the Martian city. Several hundred feet below me lay spread the broad, well-lighted avenues of Toonol, many of which were crowded with people. Here and there, in this central district, a building was raised high upon its supporting, cylindrical metal shaft; while further out, where the residences predominated, the city took on the appearance of a colossal and grotesque forest. Among the larger palaces only an occasional suite of rooms was thus raised high above the level of the others, these being the sleeping apartments of the owners, their servants or their guests; but the smaller homes were raised in their entirety, a precaution necessitated by the constant activities of the followers of Gor Hajus’ ancient profession that permitted no man to be free from the constant menace of assassination. Throughout the central district the sky was pierced by the lofty towers of several other landing-stages; but, as I was later to learn, these were comparatively few in number. Toonol is in no sense a flying nation, supporting no such enormous fleets of merchant ships and vessels of war as, for example, the twin cities of Helium or the great capital of Ptarth.

  A peculiar feature of the street lighting of Toonol, and in fact the same condition applies to the lighting of other Barsoomian cities I have visited, I noted for the first time that night as I waited upon the landing-stage for the return of Bal Zak with the watchman. The luminosity below me seemed confined directly to the area to be lighted; there was no diffusion of light upward or beyond the limits the lamps were designed to light. This was effected, I was told, by lamps designed upon principles resulting from ages of investigation of the properties of light waves and the laws governing them which permit Barsoomian scientists to confine and control light as we confine and control matter. The light waves leave the lamp, pass along a prescribed circuit and return to the lamp. There is no waste nor, strange this seemed to me, are there any dense shadows when lights are properly installed and adjusted; for the waves in passing around objects to return to the lamp, illuminate all sides of them.