The Collected John Carter of Mars (Volume 3)

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The Collected John Carter of Mars (Volume 3) Page 69

by Edgar Rice Burroughs


  This, evidently, was the King of the Rats.

  “Lord of the Underworld,” Carter thought, trying to hold his breath. The stench in the cavern was overwhelming.

  Without taking his eyes from Carter’s, the rat reached down and picked up a skull beside him and put it in front of Carter. This he repeated, picking up a skull from the other side and placing it beside the first. By repeating this, he eventually formed a little ring of topless heads in front of the earthman.

  Now, very judiciously, he climbed inside the circle of skulls and picking one of them up tossed it to Carter. The earthman caught it and tossed it back at the king.

  This seemed to annoy his royal highness. He made no effort to catch the skull and it flew past him and went bouncing down the mound.

  Instead, the king leaped up and down inside the little circle of skulls, at the same time emitting angry squeals.

  This was all very puzzling to the earthman. As he stood there, he became aware of two circles of rats forming at the base of the mound, each circle consisting of about a thousand animals. They began a weird dance, moving around the raised dais of bones counter-clockwise. The tail of each rat was gripped in the mouth of the following beast, thus forming a continuous chain.

  There was no doubt that the earthman was in the center of a weird ritual. While he was ignorant of the exact nature of the ceremony, he had little doubt as to its final outcome. The countless barren skulls, the yellowed ones that filled the cavern were mute, horrible evidence of his final fate.

  Where did the rats get all the bodies from which the skulls were obtained and why were the tops of those skulls missing? The City of Korvas, as every Martian schoolboy knew, had been deserted for a thousand years; yet many of the skulls and bones were recently picked clean of their flesh. Carter had seen no evidence in the city of any life other than the great white apes and the mysterious giant, and the rats themselves.

  However, there had been the woman’s scream that he had heard earlier. This thought accentuated his ever-present anxiety over Dejah Thoris’s safety and whereabouts.

  This delay was tormenting. As the circles of rats closed in about him, the earthman’s eyes eagerly searched for some avenue of escape.

  The rats circled slowly, watching their king who rose to his hind legs stamping his feet, thumping his tail. The mound of skulls echoed hollowly.

  Faster danced the king and faster moved the circles of rats drawing ever closer to the mound.

  The closer rats shot hungry glances at the earthman. Carter smiled grimly and gripped his sword more tightly. Strange that they should let him retain it.

  More than one of the beasts would die before he was overcome, and the king would be the first to go. There was no doubt that he was to be sacrificed to furnish a gastronomic orgy.

  Suddenly the king stopped his wild gyrations directly in front of Carter. The dancers halted instantly, watching, waiting.

  A strange, growling squeal started deep in the king’s throat and grew in volume to an ear-piercing shriek. The King of Rats stepped over the ring of skulls and advanced slowly toward Carter.

  Once again the earthman glanced about seeking some means of escape from the mound. This time he looked up. The ceiling was at least fifty feet away. No native-born Martian would even consider escaping in that direction.

  But John Carter had been born on the planet Earth, and he had brought with him to Mars all the strength and agility of a trained athlete.

  It was upon this, combined with the lesser gravity of Mars, that the earthman made his quick plan for the next moment.

  Tensely he waited for his opportunity. The ceremony was nearly concluded. The king was baring his fangs not a foot from Carter’s neck.

  The earthman’s hand tightened on his sword-hilt; then the blade streaked from its scabbard. There was a blur of motion and a sickening smack. The king’s head flew into the air and then rolled away, bouncing down the mound.

  The other beasts beneath were stunned into silence, but only momentarily. Now, squealing wildly, they swarmed up the mound intent on tearing the earthman to pieces.

  John Carter crouched and with a mighty leap his earthly muscles sent him shooting fifty feet up into the air.

  Desperately he clutched and held to a hanging stalactite. Soon he was swinging on the hanging moss to the vast upper reaches of the cavern.

  Once he looked down to see the rats milling and squealing in confusion beneath. One other fact he noted, also. Apparently there was only one means of entrance or exit into the dungeon that formed the rats’ underground city, the same tunnel through which he had first been dragged.

  Now, however, the earthman was intent upon finding some means of exit in the ceiling above.

  At last he found a narrow opening; and plunging through a heavy curtain of moss Carter swung into a cave.

  There were several tunnels branching off into the darkness, most of them thickly hung with the sticky webs of the great Martian spider. They were evidently parts of a vast underground network of tunnels that had been fashioned long ages ago by the ancients who once inhabited Korvas.

  Carter was ready with his blade for any encounter with man or beast that might come his way; and so he started off up the largest tunnel.

  The perpetually burning radium light that had been set in the wall when the tunnel was constructed furnished sufficient illumination for the earthman to see his way quite clearly.

  Carter halted before a massive door set into the end of a tunnel. It was inscribed with hieroglyphics unfamiliar to the earthman. The subdued drone of what sounded like many motors seemed to come from somewhere beyond the door.

  He pushed open the unbarred door and halted just beyond, staring unbelievingly at the tremendous laboratory in which he found himself.

  Great motors pumped oxygen through low pipes into rows of glass cages that lined the walls and filled the antiseptically white chamber from end to end. In the center of the laboratory were several operating tables with large searchlights focused down upon them from above.

  But the contents of the glass cages immediately absorbed the earthman’s attention.

  Each cage contained a giant white ape, standing upright inside, apparently lifeless.

  The top of each hairy head was swathed in bandages. If these beasts were dead, why then the oxygen tubes running to their cages?

  Carter moved across the room to examine the cases at closer range. Halfway to the farther wall he came upon a low, glassed dome that covered a huge pit set in the floor.

  He gasped. The pit was filled with dead bodies, red warriors with the tops of their heads neatly sliced off!

  chapter V

  CHAMBER OF HORRORS

  FAR BELOW, in the pit, John Carter could see forms moving in and about the bodies of the dead red men.

  They were rats; and as he watched, the earthman could see them dragging bodies off into adjoining tunnels. These tunnels probably entered the main one which ran into the rats’ underground city.

  So this was where the beasts got the skulls and bones with which they constructed their odorous, underground dwellings!

  Carter’s eyes scanned the laboratory. He noted the operating tables, the encased instruments above, the anesthetics. Everything pointed to some grisly experiment, conducted by some insane scientist.

  Within a glass case were many books. One ponderous volume was inscribed in gold letters: PEW MOGEL, HIS LIFE AND WONDERFUL WORKS.

  The earthman frowned. What was the explanation? Why this well-equipped laboratory buried in an ancient lost city, a city apparently deserted except for apes, rats, and a giant man?

  Why the cages about the wall containing the mute, motionless bodies of apes with bandaged heads? And the red men in the pit—why were their skulls cut in half, their brains removed?

  From whence came the giant, the monstrous creature whose likeness had existed only in Barsoomian folklore?

  One of the books in a case before Carter bore the name “Pew Mogel.”
What connection had Pew Mogel with all this and who was the man?

  But more important, where was Dejah Thoris, the Princess of Helium?

  John Carter reached for Pew Mogel’s book. Suddenly the room fell silent. The generators that had been humming out their power, stopped.

  “Touch not that book, John Carter,” came the words echoing through the laboratory.

  Carter’s hand dropped to his sword. There was a moment’s pause; then the hidden voice continued.

  “Give yourself up, John Carter, or your princess dies.” The words were apparently coming from a concealed loudspeaker somewhere in the room.

  “Through the door to your right, earthman, the door to your right.”

  Carter immediately sensed a trap. He crossed to the door. Warily, he pushed it open with his foot.

  Upon a gorgeous throne at the far end of a huge dome-shaped chamber sat a hideous, misshapen man. A tiny, bullet head squatted upon massive shoulders.

  Everything about the creature seemed distorted. His torso was crooked, his arms were not equal in length; one foot was larger than the other.

  The face in the diminutive head leered at John Carter. A thick tongue hung partly out over yellowed teeth.

  The hulking body was encased in gorgeous trappings of platinum and diamonds. One claw-like hand stroked the bare head.

  From head to foot there was apparently not a hair on his body!

  At the man’s feet crouched a great, four-armed shaggy brute—another white ape. Its little red eyes were fixed steadily upon the earthman as he stood at the far end of the chamber.

  The man on the throne idly fingered the microphone with which he had summoned Carter to the room.

  “I have trapped you at last, John Carter!” Beady, cocked eyes glared with hatred. “You cannot cope with the great brain of Pew Mogel!”

  Pew Mogel turned to a television screen studded with dials and lights of various colors.

  His face twisted into a smile. “You honor my humble city, John Carter. It is with the greatest interest I have watched your progress through the many chambers of the palace with my television machine.” Pew Mogel patted the machine.

  “This little invention of my good teacher, Ras Thavas,” continued Pew Mogel, “which I acquired from him, has been an invaluable aid to me in learning of your intended search for my unworthy person. It was unfortunate that you should suspect the honorable intentions of my agent that afternoon in the Jeddak’s chambers.

  “Fortunately, however, he had already completed his mission; and through an extension upon this television set, concealed cleverly behind a mirror in the Jeddak’s private throne room, I was able to see and hear the entire proceedings.”

  Pew Mogel laughed vacantly, his little unblinking eyes staring steadily at Carter who remained motionless at the other end of the room.

  The earthman could see nothing in the chamber that indicated a trap. The walls and floor were all of grey, polished ersite slabs. Carter stood at one end of a long aisle leading to Pew Mogel’s throne.

  Slowly he advanced toward Pew Mogel, his hand grasping his sword, the muscles of his arm etched bands of steel.

  Half way down the aisle, the earthman halted. “Where is Dejah Thoris?” His words cut the air.

  The microcephalic* head of Pew Mogel cocked to one side. Carter waited for him to speak.

  In spite of having the features of a man, Pew Mogel did not look quite human. There was something indescribably repulsive about him, the thin lips, the hollow cheeks, the close-set eyes.

  Then Carter realized that those eyes were unblinking. There were no eyelids. The man’s eyes could never close.

  Pew Mogel spoke coldly. “I am greatly indebted to you for this visit. I was fortunate enough to be able to entertain your princess and your best friend; but I hardly dared to hope you would honor me, too.”

  Carter’s face was expressionless. Slowly he repeated. “Where is Dejah Thoris?”

  Pew Mogel leered mockingly.

  The earthman advanced toward the throne. The white ape at Pew Mogel’s feet growled, the hairs on its neck bristling upright as Pew Mogel flinched slightly.

  Again the twisted smile passed over his face as he raised his hand toward John Carter and drawled.

  “Have patience, John Carter, and I will show you your princess; but first, perhaps you will be interested in seeing the man who, last night, told you to meet him at the main bridge outside the city.”

  ***

  ________

  *A microcephalic head is one possessing a very small brain capacity. It is theopposite of megacephalic, which means a large brain capacity. Generally microcephalia is a sign of idiocy, although in the case of Pew Mogel, the conditiondid not mean idiocy, but extreme craftiness, and madness, which might indicatethat, since Pew Mogel was an artificial, synthetic product of Ras Thavas, one ofMars’s most famous scientists, his microcephalia was either caused by a disease, or by inability of the brain to adapt itself to a foreign, ill-fitting cranial cavity.Pew Mogel’s head was obviously too small for his body, or for his brain. —Ed.

  Pew Mogel hooked one of his fingers over a lever projecting from the golden arm of his throne and slipped it toward himself. A pillar to the left of his throne, half set in the wall, began to revolve slowly.

  A giant green man appeared, chained to the pillar. His four mighty arms were strapped securely; and for Pew Mogel’s additional safety, several steel chains were wrapped around his body and cinched with massive padlocks. His neck and ankles were also secured with bands of steel, also padlocked.

  “Tars Tarkas!” Carter exclaimed.

  “Kaor, John Carter,” there was a grim smile on Tars Tarkas’ face as he replied. “I see our friend here trapped us both the same way; but it took a giant fifteen times my size to hold me while they trussed me in these chains.”

  “The message you sent me last night—” In a flash, Carter realized the truth. Pew Mogel had faked the messages from Kantos Kan and Tars Tarkas, trapping them both in the city the night before.

  “Yes, I sent you both identical messages,” said Pew Mogel, “each message apparently from the other. The proper broadcasting length I ascertained from listening to the concealed microphone I had planted in the Jeddak’s throne room. Clever, eh?”

  Pew Mogel’s left eye suddenly popped out of its socket and dangled on his cheek. He took no notice of it, but continued to speak, glancing first at Carter and then at Tars Tarkas with the other eye.

  “You have both met Joog,” stated Pew Mogel. “One hundred and thirty feet tall, he is all muscle, a product of science, the result of my great brain.

  “With my own hands I created him from living flesh, the greatest fighting monster that Barsoom has ever seen.

  “I modeled him from the organs, tissues, and bones of ten thousand red men and white apes.”

  Pew Mogel, becoming aware of his left eye, quickly shoved it back into place.

  Tars Tarkas laughed one of his rare laughs.

  “Pew Mogel,” he said, “you are falling apart. As you claim to have created your giant, so you yourself have been made.

  “Unless I miss my guess, John Carter,” continued Tars Tarkas, “this freak before us who calls himself a king has, himself, crawled out of a tissue vat!”

  Pew Mogel’s pallid countenance turned even paler as he leaped to his feet. He struck Tars Tarkas a vicious blow on the face.

  “Silence, green man!” he shrieked.

  Tars Tarkas only smiled at this insult, ignoring the pain. John Carter’s face was a frozen mask. One more blow at his defenseless friend would have sent him at Pew Mogel’s throat.

  Better to bide his time, he knew, until he learned where Dejah Thoris was hidden.

  Pew Mogel sank back upon his throne. The white ape, who had risen, once more squatted down at his master’s feet.

  Presently Pew Mogel smiled again.

  “So sorry, he drawled, “that I lost my temper. Sometimes I forget that my present appearance re
veals the nature of my origin.

  “You see, soon I shall have trained one of my apes in the intricate procedure of transferring my marvellous brain into a suitable, handsome body; then no one will guess that I am not like any other normal man on Barsoom.

  John Carter smiled grimly at Pew Mogel’s words.

  “Then you are one of Ras Thavas’ synthetic men?”

  chapter VI

  PEW MOGEL

  “YES, I AM A SYNTHETIC MAN,” answered Pew Mogel slowly. “My brain was the greatest achievement of all the Master Mind’s creations.

  “For years I was a devoted pupil of Ras Thavas in his laboratories at Morbus. I learned all that the Master could teach me of the secrets of creating living tissue. When I learned from him all that I thought necessary to pursue my plans, I left Morbus. With a hundred synthetic men I escaped over the Great Toonolian Marshes on the backs of malagors, the birds of transport.

  “I brought with me all the intricate equipment that I could steal from his laboratories. The rest, I have fashioned here in this ancient deserted city where we finally landed.”

  John Carter was studying Pew Mogel intently.

  “I was tired of being a slave,” continued Pew Mogel. “I wanted to rule; and by Issus, I have ruled; and some day I shall rule all Barsoom!”

  Pew Mogel’s eyes gleamed.

  “It was not long before red men gathered in our city, escaped and exiled criminals. Since their faces would only lead them to capture and execution in other civilized cities on Barsoom, I persuaded them to allow me to transfer their brains in the bodies of the stupid white apes that overran this city.

  “I promised to later restore their brains into the bodies of other red men, provided they would help me in my conquests.”

  Carter recalled the apes with the bandaged heads in the adjoining laboratory, and the red men with their skulls sliced off in the chamber of the rats. He began to understand a little; then he remembered Joog.

  “But the giant?” asked John Carter. “Whence came he?”

 

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