The gods of Mars
I thanked him and passed on. In silence we embarked, and shortly after
stepped once more upon the deck of the _Xavarian_. Fifteen minutes
later we received orders from the flagship to proceed toward Helium.
Our journey thither was uneventful. Carthoris and I were wrapped in the
gloomiest of thoughts. Kantos Kan was sombre in contemplation of the
further calamity that might fall upon Helium should Zat Arras attempt
to follow the age-old precedent that allotted a terrible death to
fugitives from the Valley Dor. Tars Tarkas grieved for the loss of his
daughter. Xodar alone was care-free—a fugitive and outlaw, he could be
no worse off in Helium than elsewhere.
“Let us hope that we may at least go out with good red blood upon our
blades,” he said. It was a simple wish and one most likely to be
gratified.
Among the officers of the _Xavarian_ I thought I could discern division
into factions ere we had reached Helium. There were those who gathered
about Carthoris and myself whenever the opportunity presented, while
about an equal number held aloof from us. They offered us only the most
courteous treatment, but were evidently bound by their superstitious
belief in the doctrine of Dor and Iss and Korus. I could not blame
them, for I knew how strong a hold a creed, however ridiculous it may
be, may gain upon an otherwise intelligent people.
By returning from Dor we had committed a sacrilege; by recounting our
adventures there, and stating the facts as they existed we had outraged
the religion of their fathers. We were blasphemers—lying heretics. Even
those who still clung to us from personal love and loyalty I think did
so in the face of the fact that at heart they questioned our
veracity—it is very hard to accept a new religion for an old, no matter
how alluring the promises of the new may be; but to reject the old as a
tissue of falsehoods without being offered anything in its stead is
indeed a most difficult thing to ask of any people.
Kantos Kan would not talk of our experiences among the therns and the
First Born.
“It is enough,” he said, “that I jeopardize my life here and hereafter
by countenancing you at all—do not ask me to add still further to my
sins by listening to what I have always been taught was the rankest
heresy.”
I knew that sooner or later the time must come when our friends and
enemies would be forced to declare themselves openly. When we reached
Helium there must be an accounting, and if Tardos Mors had not returned
I feared that the enmity of Zat Arras might weigh heavily against us,
for he represented the government of Helium. To take sides against him
were equivalent to treason. The majority of the troops would doubtless
follow the lead of their officers, and I knew that many of the highest
and most powerful men of both land and air forces would cleave to John
Carter in the face of god, man, or devil.
On the other hand, the majority of the populace unquestionably would
demand that we pay the penalty of our sacrilege. The outlook seemed
dark from whatever angle I viewed it, but my mind was so torn with
anguish at the thought of Dejah Thoris that I realize now that I gave
the terrible question of Helium’s plight but scant attention at that
time.
There was always before me, day and night, a horrible nightmare of the
frightful scenes through which I knew my Princess might even then be
passing—the horrid plant men—the ferocious white apes. At times I would
cover my face with my hands in a vain effort to shut out the fearful
thing from my mind.
It was in the forenoon that we arrived above the mile-high scarlet
tower which marks greater Helium from her twin city. As we descended in
great circles toward the navy docks a mighty multitude could be seen
surging in the streets beneath. Helium had been notified by
radio-aerogram of our approach.
From the deck of the _Xavarian_ we four, Carthoris, Tars Tarkas, Xodar,
and I, were transferred to a lesser flier to be transported to quarters
within the Temple of Reward. It is here that Martian justice is meted
to benefactor and malefactor. Here the hero is decorated. Here the
felon is condemned. We were taken into the temple from the landing
stage upon the roof, so that we did not pass among the people at all,
as is customary. Always before I had seen prisoners of note, or
returned wanderers of eminence, paraded from the Gate of Jeddaks to the
Temple of Reward up the broad Avenue of Ancestors through dense crowds
of jeering or cheering citizens.
I knew that Zat Arras dared not trust the people near to us, for he
feared that their love for Carthoris and myself might break into a
demonstration which would wipe out their superstitious horror of the
crime we were to be charged with. What his plans were I could only
guess, but that they were sinister was evidenced by the fact that only
his most trusted servitors accompanied us upon the flier to the Temple
of Reward.
We were lodged in a room upon the south side of the temple, overlooking
the Avenue of Ancestors down which we could see the full length to the
Gate of Jeddaks, five miles away. The people in the temple plaza and in
the streets for a distance of a full mile were standing as close packed
as it was possible for them to get. They were very orderly—there were
neither scoffs nor plaudits, and when they saw us at the window above
them there were many who buried their faces in their arms and wept.
Late in the afternoon a messenger arrived from Zat Arras to inform us
that we would be tried by an impartial body of nobles in the great hall
of the temple at the 1st zode[1] on the following day, or about 8:40
A.M. Earth time.
[1] Wherever Captain Carter has used Martian measurements of time,
distance, weight, and the like I have translated them into as nearly
their equivalent in earthly values as is possible. His notes contain
many Martian tables, and a great volume of scientific data, but since
the International Astronomic Society is at present engaged in
classifying, investigating, and verifying this vast fund of remarkable
and valuable information, I have felt that it will add nothing to the
interest of Captain Carter’s story or to the sum total of human
knowledge to maintain a strict adherence to the original manuscript in
these matters, while it might readily confuse the reader and detract
from the interest of the history. For those who may be interested,
however, I will explain that the Martian day is a trifle over 24 hours
37 minutes duration (Earth time). This the Martians divide into ten
equal parts, commencing the day at about 6 A.M. Earth time. The zodes
are divided into fifty shorter periods, each of which in turn is
composed of 200 brief periods of time, about equivalent to the earthly
second. The Barsoomian Table of Time as here given is but a part of
the full table appearing in Captain Carter’s notes.
TABLE 200 tals . . . . . . . . . 1 xat 50 xats . . . . . . . . .
1 zode 10 zodes . . . . . . . . . 1 revolution of Mars upon its
axis.
CHAPTER XVII
THE DEATH SENTENCE
A few moments before the appointed time on the following morning a
strong guard of Zat Arras’ officers appeared at our quarters to conduct
us to the great hall of the temple.
In twos we entered the chamber and marched down the broad Aisle of
Hope, as it is called, to the platform in the centre of the hall.
Before and behind us marched armed guards, while three solid ranks of
Zodangan soldiery lined either side of the aisle from the entrance to
the rostrum.
As we reached the raised enclosure I saw our judges. As is the custom
upon Barsoom there were thirty-one, supposedly selected by lot from men
of the noble class, for nobles were on trial. But to my amazement I saw
no single friendly face among them. Practically all were Zodangans, and
it was I to whom Zodanga owed her defeat at the hands of the green
hordes and her subsequent vassalage to Helium. There could be little
justice here for John Carter, or his son, or for the great Thark who
had commanded the savage tribesmen who overran Zodanga’s broad avenues,
looting, burning, and murdering.
About us the vast circular coliseum was packed to its full capacity.
All classes were represented—all ages, and both sexes. As we entered
the hall the hum of subdued conversation ceased until as we halted upon
the platform, or Throne of Righteousness, the silence of death
enveloped the ten thousand spectators.
The judges were seated in a great circle about the periphery of the
circular platform. We were assigned seats with our backs toward a small
platform in the exact centre of the larger one. This placed us facing
the judges and the audience. Upon the smaller platform each would take
his place while his case was being heard.
Zat Arras himself sat in the golden chair of the presiding magistrate.
As we were seated and our guards retired to the foot of the stairway
leading to the platform, he arose and called my name.
“John Carter,” he cried, “take your place upon the Pedestal of Truth to
be judged impartially according to your acts and here to know the
reward you have earned thereby.” Then turning to and fro toward the
audience he narrated the acts upon the value of which my reward was to
be determined.
“Know you, O judges and people of Helium,” he said, “that John Carter,
one time Prince of Helium, has returned by his own statement from the
Valley Dor and even from the Temple of Issus itself. That, in the
presence of many men of Helium he has blasphemed against the Sacred
Iss, and against the Valley Dor, and the Lost Sea of Korus, and the
Holy Therns themselves, and even against Issus, Goddess of Death, and
of Life Eternal. And know you further by witness of thine own eyes that
see him here now upon the Pedestal of Truth that he has indeed returned
from these sacred precincts in the face of our ancient customs, and in
violation of the sanctity of our ancient religion.
“He who be once dead may not live again. He who attempts it must be
made dead for ever. Judges, your duty lies plain before you—here can be
no testimony in contravention of truth. What reward shall be meted to
John Carter in accordance with the acts he has committed?”
“Death!” shouted one of the judges.
And then a man sprang to his feet in the audience, and raising his hand
on high, cried: “Justice! Justice! Justice!” It was Kantos Kan, and as
all eyes turned toward him he leaped past the Zodangan soldiery and
sprang upon the platform.
“What manner of justice be this?” he cried to Zat Arras. “The defendant
has not been heard, nor has he had an opportunity to call others in his
behalf. In the name of the people of Helium I demand fair and impartial
treatment for the Prince of Helium.”
A great cry arose from the audience then: “Justice! Justice! Justice!”
and Zat Arras dared not deny them.
“Speak, then,” he snarled, turning to me; “but blaspheme not against
the things that are sacred upon Barsoom.”
“Men of Helium,” I cried, turning to the spectators, and speaking over
the heads of my judges, “how can John Carter expect justice from the
men of Zodanga? He cannot nor does he ask it. It is to the men of
Helium that he states his case; nor does he appeal for mercy to any. It
is not in his own cause that he speaks now—it is in thine. In the cause
of your wives and daughters, and of wives and daughters yet unborn. It
is to save them from the unthinkably atrocious indignities that I have
seen heaped upon the fair women of Barsoom in the place men call the
Temple of Issus. It is to save them from the sucking embrace of the
plant men, from the fangs of the great white apes of Dor, from the
cruel lust of the Holy Therns, from all that the cold, dead Iss carries
them to from homes of love and life and happiness.