ESCAPE
It was usually about three hours after the evening meal, which was
served immediately after dark, that the establishment quieted down
definitely for the night. While I should have preferred waiting longer
before undertaking that which I had in mind, I could not safely do so,
since there was much to be accomplished before dawn. So it was that with
the first indications that the occupants of the building in which my
work was to be performed had retired for the night, I left my quarters
and went directly to the laboratory, where, fortunately for my plans,
the bodies of Gor Hajus, the assassin of Toonol, and 378-J-493811-P both
reposed. It was the work of a few minutes to carry them to adjoining
tables, where I quickly strapped them securely against the possibility
that one or both of them might not be willing to agree to the
proposition I was about to make them, and thus force me to anaesthetize
them again. At last the incisions were made, the tubes attached and the
motors started. 378-J-493811-P, whom I shall hereafter call by his own
name, Dar Tarus, was the first to open his eyes; but he had not regained
full consciousness when Gor Hajus showed signs of life.
I waited until both appeared quite restored. Dar Tarus was eyeing me
with growing recognition that brought a most venomous expression of
hatred to his countenance. Gor Hajus was frankly puzzled. The last he
remembered was the scene in the death chamber at the instant that his
executioner had run a sword through his heart. It was I who broke the
silence.
“In the first place,” I said, “let me tell you where you are, if you do
not already know.”
“I know well enough where I am,” growled Dar Tarus.
“Ah!” exclaimed Gor Hajus, whose eyes had been roaming about the
chamber. “I can guess where I am. What Toonolian has not heard of Ras
Thavas? So they sold my corpse to the old butcher did they? And what
now? Did I just arrive?”
“You have been here six years,” I told him, “and you may stay here for
ever unless we three can reach an agreement within the next few minutes,
and that goes for you too, Dar Tarus.”
“Six years!” mused Gor Hajus. “Well, out with it, man. What do you want?
If it is to slay Ras Thavas, no! He has saved me from utter destruction;
but name me some other, preferably Vobis Kan, Jeddak of Toonol. Find me
a blade and I will slay a hundred to regain life.”
“I seek the life of none unless he stands in the way of the fulfilment
of my desire in this matter that I have in hand. Listen! Ras Thavas had
here a beautiful Duhorian girl. He sold her body to Xaxa, Jeddara of
Phundahl, transplanting the girl’s brain to the wrinkled and hideous
body of the Jeddara. It is my intention to regain the body, restore it
to its own brain and return the girl to Duhor.”
Gor Hajus grinned. “You have a large contract on your hands,” he said,
“but I can see that you are a man after my own heart and I am with you.
It will give freedom and fighting, and all that I ask is a chance for
one thrust at Vobis Kan.”
“I promise you life,” I replied; “but with the understanding that you
serve me faithfully and none other, undertaking no business of your own,
until mine has been carried to a successful conclusion.”
“That means that I shall have to serve you for life,” he replied, “for
the thing you have undertaken you can never accomplish; but that is
better than lying here on a cold ersite slab waiting for old Ras Thavas
to come along and carve out my gizzard. I am yours! Let me up, that I
may feel a good pair of legs under me again.”
“And you?” I asked, turning to Dar Tarus as I released the bonds that
held Gor Hajus. For the first time I now noticed that the ugly
expression that I had first noted upon the face of Dar Tarus had given
place to one of eagerness.
“Strike off my bonds!” he cried. “I will follow you to the ends of
Barsoom and the way leads thus far to the fulfilment of your design; but
it will not. It will lead to Phundahl and to the chamber of the wicked
Xaxa, where, by the generosity of my ancestors, I may be given the
opportunity to avenge the hideous wrong the creature did me. You could
not have chosen one better fitted for your mission than Dar Tarus, one
time soldier of the Jeddara’s Guard, whom she had slain that in my
former body one of her rotten nobles might woo the girl I loved.”
A moment later the two men stood at my side, and without more delay I
led them towards the runway that descended to the pits beneath the
building. As we went, I described to them the creature I had chosen to
be the fourth member of our strange party. Gor Hajus questioned the
wisdom of my choice, saying that the ape would attract too much
attention to us. Dar Tarus, however, believed that it might be helpful
in many respects, since it was possible that we might be compelled to
spend some time among the islands of the marshes which were often
infested with these creatures; while, once in Phundahl, the ape might
readily be used in the furtherance of our plans and would cause no
considerable comment in a city where many of these beasts are held in
captivity and often are seen performing for the edification of street
crowds.
We went at once to the vault where the ape lay and where I had concealed
the anaesthetized body of Valla Dia. Here I revived the great anthropoid
and to my great relief found that the human half of its brain still was
dominant. Briefly I explained my plan as I had to the other two and won
the hearty promise of his support upon my engaging to restore his brain
to its rightful place upon the completion of our venture.
First we must get off the island, and I outlined two plans I had in
mind. One was to steal one of Ras Thavas’ three fliers and set out
directly for Phundahl, and the other, in the event that the first did
not seem feasible, was to secrete ourselves aboard one of them on the
chance that we might either overpower the crew and take over the ship
after we had left the island, or escape undetected upon its arrival in
Toonol. Dar Tarus liked the first plan; the ape, whom we now called by
the name belonging to the human half of his brain, Hovan Du, preferred
the first alternative of the second plan; and Gor Hajus the second
alternative.
Dar Tarus explained that as our principal objective was Phundahl, the
quicker we got there the better. Hovan Du argued that by seizing the
ship after it had left the island we would have longer time in which to
make our escape before the ship was missed and pursuit instituted, than
by seizing it now in the full knowledge that its absence would be
discovered within a few hours. Gor Hajus thought that it would be better
if we could come into Toonol secretly and there, through one of his
friends, secure arms and a flier of our own. It would never do, he
insisted, to attempt to go far without arms for himself and Dar Tarus,
nor could we hope to reach Phundahl without being overhauled by
pursuers; for we must plan on the hypothesis that Ras Thavas would
immediately discover my absence; that he would at once investigate; that
he would find Dar Tarus and Gor Hajus missing and thereupon lose no time
in advising Vobis Kan, Jeddak of Toonol, that Gor Hajus the assassin was
at large, whereupon the Jeddak’s best ships would be sent in pursuit.
Gor Hajus’ reasoning was sound and coupled with my recollection that Ras
Thavas had told me that his three ships were slow, I could readily
foresee that our liberty would be of short duration were we to steal one
of the old surgeon’s fliers.
As we discussed the matter we had made our way through the pits and I
had found the exit to the tower. Silently we passed upward along the
runway and out upon the roof. Both moons were winging low through the
heavens and the scene was almost as light as day. If anyone was about
discovery was certain. We hastened towards the hangar and were soon
within it, where, for a moment at least, I breathed far more easily than
I had beneath those two brilliant moons upon the exposed roof.
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 toward 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.