abreast of modern improvements. It was marked by signs of antiquity;
the buildings reflected the architecture of the ancients and many
of them were in a state of disrepair, though much of the city's
ugliness was hidden or softened by the foliage of great trees and
climbing vines, so that on the whole the aspect was more pleasing than
otherwise. Toward the center of the city was a large plaza, entirely
surrounded by imposing public buildings, including the palace of the
Jed. It was upon the roof of one of these buildings that the flier
landed.
Under a strong guard we were conducted into the interior of the
building and after a brief wait were ushered into the presence of
some high official. Evidently he had already been advised of the
circumstances surrounding our arrival at Tjanath, for he seemed to be
expecting us and was familiar with all that had transpired up to the
present moment.
"What do you at Tjanath, Jaharian?" he demanded.
"I am not from Jahar," I replied. "Look at my metal."
"A warrior may change his metal," he replied, gruffly.
"This man has not changed his metal," said Tavia. "He is not from
Jahar; he is from Hastor, one of the cities of Helium. I am from Jahar."
The official looked at her in surprise. "So you admit it!" he cried.
"But first I was from Tjanath," said the girl.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"As a little child I was stolen from Tjanath," replied Tavia. "All my
life since I have been a slave in the palace of Tul Axtar, Jeddak of
Jahar. Only recently I escaped in the same flier upon which we arrived
at Tjanath. Near the dead city of Xanator I landed and was captured
by the green men of Torquas. This warrior, who is Hadron of Hastor,
rescued me from them. Together we came to Tjanath, expecting a friendly
reception."
"Who are your people in Tjanath?" demanded the official.
"I do not know," replied Tavia; "I was very young. I remember
practically nothing about my life in Tjanath."
"What is your name?"
"Tavia."
The man's interest in her story, which had seemed wholly perfunctory,
seemed suddenly altered and galvanized.
"You know nothing about your parents or your family?" he demanded.
"Nothing," replied Tavia.
He turned to the padwar who was in charge of our escort. "Hold them
here until I return," he said, and, rising from his desk, he left the
apartment.
"He seemed to recognize your name," I said to Tavia.
"How could he?" she asked.
"Possibly he knew your family," I suggested; "at least his manner
suggested that we are going to be given some consideration."
"I hope so," she said.
"I feel that our troubles are about over, Tavia," I assured her; "and
for your sake I shall be very happy."
"And you, I suppose," she said, "will endeavor to enlist aid in
continuing your search for Sanoma Tora?"
"Naturally," I replied. "Could anything less be expected of me?"
"No," she admitted in a very low voice.
Notwithstanding the fact that something in the demeanor of the official
who had interrogated us had raised my hope for our future, I was still
conscious of a feeling of depression as our conversation emphasized the
near approach of our separation. It seemed as though I had always known
Tavia, for the few days that we had been thrown together had brought
us very close indeed. I knew that I should miss her sparkling wit, her
ready sympathy and the quiet companionship of her silences, and then
the beautiful features of Sanoma Tora were projected upon memory's
screen and, knowing where my duty lay, I cast vain regrets aside, for
love, I knew, was greater than friendship and I loved Sanoma Tora.
After a considerable lapse of time the official re-entered the
apartment. I searched his face to read the first tidings of good news
there, but his expression was inscrutable; however, his first words,
addressed to the padwar, were entirely understandable.
"Confine the woman in the East Tower," he said, "and send the man to
the pits."
That was all. It was like a blow in the face. I looked at Tavia and saw
her wide eyes upon the official. "You mean that we are to be held as
prisoners?" she demanded; "I, a daughter of Tjanath, and this warrior
who came here from a friendly nation seeking your aid and protection?"
"You will each have a hearing later before the Jed," snapped the
official. "I have spoken. Take them away."
Several of the warriors seized me rather roughly by the arms. Tavia
had turned away from the official and was looking at me. "Good-bye,
Hadron of Hastor!" she said. "It is my fault that you are here. May my
ancestors forgive me!"
"Do not reproach yourself, Tavia," I begged her, "for who might have
foreseen such a stupid reception?"
We were taken from the apartment by different doorways and there we
turned, each for a last look at the other, and in Tavia's eyes there
were tears, and in my heart.
The pits of Tjanath, to which I was immediately conducted, are gloomy,
but they are not enveloped in impenetrable darkness as are the pits
beneath most Barsoomian cities. Into the dungeon dim light filtered
through the iron grating from the corridors, where ancient radium bulbs
glowed faintly. Yet it was light and I gave thanks for that, for I have
always believed that I should go mad imprisoned in utter darkness.
I was heavily fettered and unnecessarily so, it seemed to me, as they
chained me to a massive iron ring set deep in the masonry wall of my
dungeon, and then, leaving me, locked also the ponderous iron grating
before the doorway.
As the footfalls of the warriors diminished to nothingness in the
distance I heard the faint sound of something moving nearby me in my
dungeon. What could it be? I strained my eyes into the gloomy darkness.
Presently, as my eyes became more accustomed to the dim light in my
cell, I saw the figure of what appeared to be a man crouching against
the wall near me. Again I heard a sound as he moved and this time it
was accompanied by the rattle of a chain, and then I saw a face turn
toward me, but I could not distinguish the features.
"Another guest to share the hospitality of Tjanath," said a voice that
came from the blurred figure beside me. It was a clear voice--the
voice of a man--and there was a quality to its timbre that I liked.
"Do our hosts entertain many such as we?" I asked.
"In this cell there was but one," he replied; "now there are two. Are
you from Tjanath or elsewhere?"
"I am from Hastor, city of the Empire of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium."
"You are a long way from home," he said.
"Yes," I replied; "and you?"
"I am from Jahar," he answered. "My name is Nur An."
"And mine is Hadron," I said. "Why are you here?"
"I am a prisoner because I am from Jahar," he replied. "What is your
crime?"
"It is that they think I am from Jahar," I told him.
"What made them think that? Do you wear the metal of Jahar?"
"No, I wear the metal of Helium, but I chanced to come to Tjanath in
a Jaharian flier."
He whistled. "That would be hard to explain," he said.
"I found it so," I admitted. "They would not believe a word of my
story, nor of that of my companion."
"You had a companion, then?" he asked. "Where is he?"
"It was a woman. She was born in Tjanath, but for long years had been
a slave in Jahar. Perhaps later they will believe her story, but for
the present we are in prison. I heard them order her to the East Tower,
while they sent me here to the prison."
"And here you will stay until you rot, unless you are lucky enough
to be called for the games, or unlucky enough to be sentenced to The
Death."
"What is The Death?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by his emphasis of
the words.
"I do not know," he replied. "The warriors who come here often speak
of it as though it was something quite horrible. Perhaps they do it
to frighten me, but if that is true, then they have had very little
satisfaction, for, whether or not I have been frightened, I have not
let them see it."
"Let us hope for the games, then," I said.
"They are dull and stupid people here in Tjanath," said my companion.
"The warriors have told me that sometimes many years elapse between
games in the arena, but we may hope at least, for surely it would be
better to die there with a good long sword in one's hand rather than to
rot here in the darkness, or die The Death, whatever it may be."
"You are right," I said. "Let us beseech our ancestors that the Jed of
Tjanath decrees games in the near future."
"So you are from Hastor," he said, musingly, after a moment's silence.
"That is a long way from Tjanath. Pressing must have been the service
that brought you so far afield!"
"I was searching for Jahar," I replied.
"Perhaps you are as well off that you found Tjanath first," he said,
"for, though I am a Jaharian, I cannot boast the hospitality of Jahar."
"You think I would not have been accorded a cordial welcome there,
then?" I asked.
"By my first ancestor, no," he exclaimed most emphatically. "Tul Axtar
would have had you in the pits before he asked your name, and the pits
of Jahar are not as light nor as pleasant as these."
"I did not intend that Tul Axtar should know that I was visiting him,"
I said.
"You are a spy?" he asked.
"No," I replied. "The daughter of the commander of the umak to which I
was attached was abducted by Jaharians, and, I have reason to believe,
by the orders of Tul Axtar himself. To effect her rescue was the object
of my journey."
"You tell this to a Jaharian?" he asked lightly.
"With perfect impunity," I replied. "In the first place, I have read in
your words and your tone that you are no friend to Tul Axtar, Jeddak of
Jahar, and, secondly, there is evidently little chance that you ever
will return to Jahar."
"You are right in both conjectures," he said. "I most assuredly have no
love for Tul Axtar. He is a beast, hated by all decent men. The cause
of my hatred for him so closely parallels your own reason to hate Tul
Axtar that we are indeed bound by a common tie."
"How is that?" I demanded.
"All my life I have never felt aught but contempt for Tul Axtar, Jeddak
of Jahar, but this contempt was not transmuted into hatred until he
stole a woman, and it was the stealing of a woman, also, that directed
your venom against him."
"A woman of your family?" I asked.
"My sweetheart, the woman I was to marry," replied Nur An. "I am a
noble. My family is of ancient lineage and great wealth. For these
reasons Tul Axtar knew that he had good cause to fear me, and, urged on
by this fear, he confiscated my property and sentenced me to death, but
I have many friends in Jahar and one of these, a common warrior of the
guard, connived at my escape after I had been imprisoned in the pits.
"I made my way to Tjanath and told my story to Haj Osis, the Jed, and,
laying my sword at his feet, I offered him my services, but Haj Osis is
a suspicious old fool and saw in me only a spy from Jahar. He ordered
me to the pits and here I have lain for a long time."
"Jahar must be, indeed, an unhappy country," I said, "ruled over, as
she is, by such a man as Tul Axtar. Recently I have heard much of him,
but as yet I have not heard him credited with a single virtue."
"He has none," said Nur An. "He is a cruel tyrant, rotten with
corruption and vice. If any of the great powers of Barsoom could have
guessed what was in his mind, Jahar would have been reduced long ago
and Tul Axtar destroyed."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"For at least two hundred years Tul Axtar has fostered a magnificent
dream, the conquest of all Barsoom. During all this time he has
made manpower his fetich; no eggs might be destroyed, each woman
being compelled to preserve all that she laid. (_Note: Martians are
oviparous._) An army of officials and inspectors took a record of the
production of each female. Those that had the greatest number of males
were rewarded; the unproductive were destroyed. When it was discovered
that marriage tended to reduce the productivity of the females of
Jahar, marriage among any classes beneath the nobility was proscribed
by imperial edict.
"The result has been an appalling increase in population until many
of the provinces of Jahar cannot support the incalculable numbers
that swarm like ants in a hill. The richest agricultural land upon
Barsoom could not support such numbers; every natural resource has been
exhausted; millions are starving, and in large districts cannibalism is
prevalent.
"During all this time Tul Axtar's officers have been training the
males for war. From earliest consciousness the thought of war has been
implanted within their minds. To war and to war alone do they look
for relief from the hideous conditions which oppress them until today
countless millions are clamoring for war, realizing that victory means
loot, and that loot means food and riches. Already Tul Axtar commands
an army of such vast proportions that the fate of Barsoom might readily
lie in the palm of his hand were it not for but a single obstacle."
"And what is that?" I asked.
"Tul Axtar is a coward," replied Nur An. "Having fulfilled his dream
of manpower, he is afraid to use it lest by some accident of fate his
military plans should fail and his troops meet defeat. Therefore,
he has waited while he urged on the scientists of Jahar to produce
some weapon that would be so far superior in its destructive power to
anything possessed by any other nation of Barsoom that his armies would
be invincible.
"For years the best minds of Jahar labored with the problem until at
last one of our most eminent scientists, an old man named Phor Tak,
developed a rifle of amazing properties. The success of Phor Tak
aroused the jealousies of other scientists, and though the old man had
given Tul Axtar what he sought, yet the tyrant showed no gratitude,
and Phor Tak was subjected to such indignities and oppressions that
eventually he fled from Jahar.
"That, however, is of no import; all that Phor Tak could do for Tul
Axtar he had done, and with the new rifle in his possession, the Jeddak
was glad to be rid of the old scientist."
Naturally I was much interested in the rifle which Nur An had mentioned
and I hoped that he would go into a further and more detailed
description of it, but I dared not suggest that for fear that the
natural loyalty which every man feels for the country of his birth
might restrain him from divulging her military secrets to a stranger.
I was to learn, however, that those lofty sentiments of patriotism,
which are a part of every man of Helium, were induced as much by the
love and respect in which we held our great jeddaks as by our natural
attachment to the land of our birth; while, upon the other hand, the
Jaharians looked only with contempt and loathing upon the head of their
state and feeling no loyalty for him, who was in effect the state,
they looked upon patriotism as nothing more than an empty catchword,
which an unworthy master had used to his own end until it had become
meaningless, and so, while at the moment I was surprised, I later came
to understand why it was that Nur An voluntarily explained in detail to
me all that he knew about the strange new weapon of Jahar and the means
of defense against it.
"This new rifle," he continued after a moment's silence, "would render
all the other armies and navies of Barsoom impotent before us. It
projects an invisible ray, the vibrations of which effect such a change
in the constitution of metals as to cause them to disintegrate. I am
not a scientist; I do not fully understand the exact explanation of the
phenomenon, but from what I was able to gather while the new weapon
was being discussed in Jahar I am under the impression that these rays
change the polarity of the protons in metallic substances, releasing
the whole mass as free electrons. I have also heard the theory
expounded that Phor Tak, in his investigation, discovered that the
fundamental principle underlying time, matter and space are identical,
and that what the rays projected from his rifle really accomplish is
to translate any mass of metal upon which it is directed into the most
elementary constituents of space.
"But be that as it may, Tul Axtar had the manpower and the weapon, yet
still he hesitated. He was afraid and he sought for some excuse further
to delay the war of conquest and loot which his millions of subjects
now demanded, and to this end he hit upon the plan of insisting upon
some medium of defense against this new rifle, basing his demands upon
the possibility that some other power might also have discovered a
similar weapon or would eventually, by the use of spies or informers,
learn the secret from Jahar. Probably greatly to his surprise and
unquestionably to his embarrassment, a man who had been an assistant in
Phor Tak's laboratory presently developed a substance which dissipated
the rays of the new weapon, rendering them harmless. With this
substance, which is of a bluish color, the metal portions of the ships,
weapons and harness of Jahar are now painted.
"But yet again Tul Axtar postponed his war, insisting upon the
production of an enormous quantity of the new rifles and a mighty fleet
of warships upon which to mount them. Then, he says, he will sail forth
and conquer all Barsoom."
The destruction of the patrol boat above Helium the night of the
abduction of Sanoma Tora was now quite clear to me, and when Nur An
told me later that Tul Axtar had sent experimental fliers to attack
Tjanath, I understood why it was that the blue flier in which Tavia
and I had arrived had caused such consternation, but the thought that
upset my mind now almost to the exclusion of the plight of Sanoma Tora
was that somewhere in the thin air of dying Barsoom a great Heliumetic
fleet was moving to attack Jahar, or at least that was what I supposed
since I had no reason to doubt that the message that I had given to the
majordomo of Tor Hatan's palace had not been delivered to the Warlord.
To lie here enchained in the pits of Tjanath, while the great fleet of
Helium sped to its destruction, filled me with horror. With my own eyes
had I seen the effects of this terrible new weapon and I knew that it
was no idle dream upon the part of Nur An when he had stated that with
it Tul Axtar could conquer a world; but there was a defense against
it. If I could but regain my freedom, I might not only warn the ships
of Helium and save them from inevitable doom, but also in connection
with my quest for Sanoma Tora in the city of Jahar, I might discover
the secret of the defense against the weapon which the Jaharians had
evolved.
Freedom! Before it had only seemed the most desirable thing in the
world; now it had become imperative.
VI
SENTENCED TO DIE
I was not long in the pits of Tjanath before warriors came, and,
removing my fetters, led me from my dungeon. There were only two of
them and I could not but note their carelessness and the laxness of
their discipline as they escorted me to an upper level of the palace,
but at the time I thought it meant only that the attitude of the
officials had altered and that I was to be free.
There was nothing remarkable about the palace of the Jed of Tjanath.
It was a poor place by comparison with the palaces of some of the
great nobles of Helium, yet never before, I imagined, had I challenged
with greater interest every detail of architecture, every corridor and
doorway, or the manners, harness and decorations of the people that
passed us, for, though in my heart was the hope that I was about to
be free, yet I considered this place my prison and these people my
jailers, and, as my one object in life was to escape, I was determined
to let no detail elude my eye that might possibly in any way aid me if
the time should come when I must make a break for liberty.
It was such thoughts that were uppermost in my mind as I was ushered
through wide portals into the presence of a bejeweled warrior. As my
eyes first alighted upon him I knew at once that I was in the presence
of Haj Osis, Jed of Tjanath.
As my guard halted me before him, the Jed scrutinized me intently with
that air of suspicion which is his most marked characteristic.
"Your name and country?" he demanded.
"I am Hadron of Hastor, padwar in the navy of Helium," I replied.
"You are from Jahar," he accused. "You came here from Jahar with a
woman of Jahar in a flier of Jahar. Can you deny it?"
I told Haj Osis in detail everything that had led up to my arrival at
Tjanath. I told him Tavia's story as well, and I must at least credit
him with listening to me in patience, though I was constantly impressed
by a feeling that my appeal was being directed at a mind already so
prejudiced against me that nothing that I might say could alter its
convictions.
The chiefs and courtiers that surrounded the Jed evinced open
skepticism in their manner until I became convinced that fear of Tul
Axtar so obsessed them that they were unable to consider intelligently
any matter connected with the activities of the Jeddak of Jahar. Terror
made them suspicious and suspicion sees everything through distorted
lenses.
When I had finished my story, Haj Osis ordered me removed from the room
and I was held in a small ante-chamber for some time while, I imagined,
he discussed my case with his advisors.
When I was again ushered into his presence I felt that the whole
atmosphere of the chamber was charged with antagonism, as for the
second time I was halted before the dais upon which the Jed sat in his
carved throne-chair.
"The laws of Tjanath are just," proclaimed Haj Osis, glaring at me,
"and the Jed of Tjanath is merciful. The enemies of Tjanath shall
receive justice, but they may not expect mercy. You, who call yourself
Hadron of Hastor, have been adjudged a spy of our most malignant enemy,
Tul Axtar of Jahar, and as such I, Haj Osis, Jed of Tjanath, sentence
you to die The Death. I have spoken." With an imperious gesture he
signalled the guards to remove me.
There was no appeal. My doom was sealed, and in silence I turned and
left the chamber, escorted by a guard of warriors, but for the honor of
Helium I may say that my step was firm and my chin high.
On my return to the pits I questioned the padwar in charge of my escort
relative to Tavia, but if the fellow knew aught of her he refused to
divulge it to me and presently I found myself again fettered in the
gloomy dungeon by the side of Nur An of Jahar.
"Well?" he asked.
"The Death," I replied.
He extended a manacled hand through the darkness and placed it upon one
of mine. "I am sorry, my friend," he said.
"Man has but one life," I replied; "if he is permitted to give it in a
good cause, he should not complain."
"You die for a woman," he said.
"I die for a woman of Helium," I corrected.
"Perhaps we shall die together," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"While you were gone a messenger came from the majordomo of the palace
advising me to make peace with my ancestors as I should die The Death
in a short time."
"I wonder what The Death is like," I said.
"I do not know," replied Nur An, "but from the awe-hushed tones in
which they mention it, I imagine that it must be very terrible."
"Torture, do you imagine?" I asked.
"Perhaps," he replied.
"They will find that the men of Helium who know so well how to live,
know also how to die," I said.
"I shall hope to render a good account of myself also," said Nur An. "I
shall not give them the satisfaction of knowing that I suffer. Still,
I wish I might know beforehand what it is like that I might better be
prepared to meet it."
"Let us not depress our thoughts by dwelling upon it," I suggested.
"Let us rather take the part of men and consider only plans for
thwarting our enemies and effecting our escape."
"I am afraid that is hopeless," he said.
"I may answer that," I said, "in the famous words of John Carter: 'I
still live!'"
"The blind philosophy of absolute courage," he said admiringly, "but
yet futile."
"It served him well many a time," I insisted, "for it gave him the will
to attempt the impossible and to succeed. We still live, Nur An; do not
forget that--we still live!"
"Make the best of it while you can," said a gruff voice from the
corridor, "for it will not long be true."
The speaker entered our dungeon--a warrior of the guard, and with him
was a single companion. I wondered how much of our conversation they
had overheard, but I was soon reassured, for the very next words of the
warrior that had first spoken revealed the fact that they had heard
nothing but my assertion that we still lived.
"What did you mean by that," he asked, "'remember, Nur An, we still
live'?"