“What is the name of that city?”
“It is Selketh, forty of your miles from here.”
Don caught his breath. For forty miles in Mars is as ten on Earth.
“Then you are not safe even here? You should go to somewhere safe.”
“Nowhere is safe,” said she, sadly. “We thought that Selketh was as safe as. any city in Mars. And I don’t like running away. Besides, I have my way of escape, if it should be necessary. Have I ever shown you my secret room?”
“No.”
“Then come. But remember to say nothing to anybody about it.”
She took him through another room to where a cunningly hidden door proved to be a way into yet another room. A transparent, sphere rested here, eighteen feet tall, with a square compartment inside. In front of the sphere gaped a round hole.
“One sign of danger,” she explained, “and I could be racing through the tunnels to anywhere in Mars in a few seconds. My father, the king, arranged all this long ago so that whatever happened while he was away, earthquake, fire, war, revolution, the royal family would be safe.”
“I’d like to talk this over with Professor Winterton,” Don said.
“I’ll call him.”
SHE sent for the Professor, using the automatic television system of the palace. The white-haired Professor[2] came nervously, wondering what had happened to cause him to be summoned into the presence of the second highest in all Mars.
“I see,” he said, when everything was explained to him. “Brutes with the intelligence of men. A nasty combination. And they go everywhere through the planet, using caverns that men cannot climb through. You say they are likely to appear anywhere at any moment, in great numbers. Yes, that certainly sounds bad.”
“What can be done about it?” Don asked.
“It seems to be more a question of war than of hunting dangerous beasts,” the Professor murmured. “The first thing is to find out all we possibly can about them: where their hiding-places are, their headquarters if they have any, their food supplies, their mates and their young. Destroy the tunnels they come through, destroy their food supplies if we can. Destroy their females and their young. Leave poisoned and infected food for them to find. But most of all destroy their sources of food supply. That is the only method with any real hope of success. One cannot have humanitarian scruples in dealing with creatures like that.”
“Waugh!” said a harsh voice behind them.
Don turned his head. Four ape-men were standing behind them, in the door way that led to Wimpolo’s secret exit. Their bodies were covered with long blue and red hair, and their hands and feet had long curved claws. The Princess’ light, flashed momentarily into the traffic tunnel, had shown the way into her private apartments to beast-men lurking there. The safety measures provided for her by her anxious father had proved to be her greatest danger. So busy had the two Earthlings and the Martian Princess been discussing the war that none of them had heard the warning hiss of the snake.
Many things happened in a few moments.
The snake rushed to attack. The Princess’ zekolo came from nowhere, shot its arms out of its oystershell.[3] But a black deathray box, swung by an ape-creature, made both the animals stop. They knew the deadly powers of the ray as well as humans did.
Don would have put up a fight, raybox, or no raybox, but he was taken by surprise. He knew that his speed and the agility of his Earth-light body made him a dangerous fighter among the gigantic, slow Martians. Admittedly, four sub-men made a very tough proposition indeed, but all the same he would have tackled them, if he had had a chance to do so. As it was, however, the surprise caught him sitting down, and before he could get to his feet a sweep of an ape’s paw knocked him flying through the air.
Wimpolo was seized by the hair by one ape and by an ankle by another. Struggling ineffectually, she was carried through the door almost before Don was on his feet again. The door slammed, and they heard heavy furniture being pushed up against it.
Professor Winterton leaped for the television controls. He sent out an alarm. In a few moments the room was full of Wimpolo’s private guards.
“What is the matter? Where is Her Magnificence?”
They broke open the door into Wimpolo’s private room, and Don showed them the secret exit. The traffic sphere was gone. Only a blank, empty hole faced them.
CHAPTER II
To Selketh
DON, the Professor, several Martians and the animals raced along the traffic tunnel. The gradient was steep and the tile-covered floor slippery. They reached the general system of traffic tunnels with its many forks. An alarm had been given, and many spheres were hunting for the Princess.
Before long word came that the Princess’ sphere had been found. It had been abandoned in the tunnels close to a jagged hole in a wall. Looking into the hole they saw a rough, rocky cavern with floor so steep and so littered with loose stones that it would have been almost impossible for a man of Mars to climb down it. The ape-men and the little Earthlings, however, had little difficulty. To the snake and the zekolo, of course, the jagged, slipping rocks were their natural home.
Don and Winterton threw over their shoulders luminous capes that filled the cave with blue light. Switches on their breasts turned the light on and off. On their heads were searchlights. Cautiously they picked their way over loose stones.
After the polished perfection of the tiled traffic tunnels it seemed strange to be in the rugged grandeur of these enormous natural holes. They performed climbing feats that looked absolutely impossible, and that would have been impossible on Earth.
“Are you sure we are going the right way?” Winterton panted. “Remember that the ape-men were carrying Princess Wimpolo. She is a terrific weight. Could even they, with their enormous strength, have carried a Martian girl down these treacherous rocks?”
“They used a rope,” Don answered. “See the marks of the rope in the dust and slime. And here is the imprint of the Princess’ shoe in the moss of a crevice.”
They were certainly on the right trail, but it was slow going. A loose stone rattled past them. Don looked up, lifting his deathray box to his shoulder, ready to reply to any attack from above. But it was not necessary. A group of Wimpolo’s guards were following them, using snakes as natural ropes.
Don blinked. He felt that he would never accustom himself to the innumerable uses the Martians made of their uncanny pets. He spoke the word of command to the snake and the zekolo.
At once Winterton and he were picked up and carried forward on their journey with great speed. They sat on the back of the zekolo, the natural configurations of its shell making a good seat, and one octopus-like arm coiled round them for added security. Like a spider the zekolo raced down the rocks, the snake squirming sinuously after.
The crack they were following opened into the roof of a large cavern. Three hundred feet below was the floor. There was no way of climbing down, even for the animals.
“We shall have to wait until long ropes can be brought,” Don thought.
The zekolo, however, did not hesitate. Still holding them on its back it hung by two of its arms into the vast hole. Don was amazed to see the arms stretch like elastic rubber. Another pincer let go. The zekolo hung by one arm only. That last arm stretched beyond belief, until the creature hung like a spider on the end of its thread. The last arm let go, and the zekolo landed safely on its other arms on the cavern floor.
Looking up, Don saw that the last arm still gripped the rocks above. It had remained behind. It had not broken, but the zekolo had snapped it off and thrown it away so that the recoil would not injure the two men who sat in its back. An arm more or less was nothing to the zekolo. It would soon grow another.
THE snake above was unable to follow them. But soon Wimpolo’s guards, on their own snakes, reached it. Then Don saw another trick. Several snakes, twining their bodies together, formed a long living rope down which the rest of the snakes and guards traveled in a few seconds.
There were no beast-men to be seen, but it was possible that they might be lurking in the shadows around. A deathray might strike from some hidden point at any moment. The two men put out their lights and relied on the natural lights that glowed from between the stalked eyes of the zekolo, on the heads of snakes and on the life, plant and animal of the cavern.
Presently they passed a group of ape-men gathered together on the cavern floor, but the zekolo took no notice, going straight on.
At last they emerged through a small opening into a much vaster, well lighted cavern. They saw, on a wide plain that stretched before them, a Martian city, beautifully designed and colored, an arm of a Martian ocean with ships lying at anchor, and cultivated fields and pastures. But signs of destruction and ruin were everywhere.
It was Selketh.
“Stop,” Don whispered. “We must spy out the land before we go further.”
BEHIND them they heard cries.
Snakes hissed in wrath. Wimpolo’s guards had come upon the group of ape-men resting in the cavern. The zekolo tried to go back and join in the fight, but Don held it with a low word of command. Their business was to find the Princess, not to look for side-battles.
Two ape-men came running to get help for their companions. Don’s ray knocked them both over. A score of death rays, blazing together, had wiped out the rest of the surprised group.
The guards had lost no time. Don saw that each man was being carried in a coil of one of the snakes, in which way they could travel almost as fast as the zekolo.
The scaly, sliding cavalry reached the opening where Don and Winterton waited. Wimpolo’s snake, which knew Don, came up to him and rubbed its scaly snout against his leg.
“Where is the Princess?” the leader asked at once.
“This zekolo,” Don said, “the Princess’ personal pet and very attached to her, trailed her as far as this. That is all we know.”
“Our snakes followed your zekolo,” said the leader of the guards. “But if your animal is the Princess’ pet he should be able to follow her without difficulty. The Princess is there.”
He turned to his men.
“Soldiers of Usulor,” he said, quietly, “Princess Wimpolo is down there, in front of us.” He pointed with his left arm at the captured city. “You all know what that means. All lights out. Dismount.”
At the correct word of command the natural searchlights of the snakes winked out. The coils unwound, letting the guards down. In the darkness came the words of the leader.
“Form into line. Down on your faces. On the word, ‘Now!’ you will all aim your deathrays at the spot I shall aim at. Now!”
A score of deathrays stabbed as one. Across the plain the unified beam of destruction glared, soundlessly. Wherever a group of ape-men was gathered they sank down soundlessly.
“Now, singly. Pick off solitary individuals.”
The surprise attack had caused great slaughter. Now the shrill note of a siren sounded from far off. Don thought it came from a grey shape in the docks. It was a curious shape, more suggestive of a submarine than a ship. Don knew that there were submarines on Mars, but he had not seen one until now. And now the deathrays of the guards seemed suddenly to have become powerless. The pale beams could no longer be seen: no longer did ape-men sink to the ground under the attack.
“It must be a screen,” the leader declared. “Our rays are stopped by some sort of obstruction. We must break it. Mount.”
Though the guards knew what a forlorn hope it was, they mounted with no hesitation and no sign of fear. They were Wimpolo’s men, hand-picked, and their lives belonged to her.
DON watched the city. Ape-men stood as though on guard outside many of the houses. He reasoned that the inhabitants must be imprisoned in those houses, such of them as still lived. It seemed to him that the ape-men showed some sort of discipline, as though all were working according to some pre-arranged plan. He felt sure that Martian humans were in charge of them, using them for their own ends, probably for some deep-laid scheme of planetary conquest.
He could see several men moving about, not ape-men but normal Martians. The brutes left them unmolested, seemed rather to be afraid of them. And the capture of Princess Wimpolo seemed to have been a deliberate, planned affair.
“Professor,” Don muttered, “this is not an outbreak of wild beasts or savages that we are up against. It is war, an organized revolution.”
“I had arrived at the same conclusion,” Winterton answered. “It confirms my opinion that as long as Mars has kings who are absolute rulers in their own areas, there will always be war, even though one king is overlord of them all.”
“While the attention of the enemy is engaged on this side of the city,” Don said, “we will work our way around to the other side. We might be able to get into the city unobserved.”
“Do you think that will do any good?” the Professor asked. “My idea is to get away from here as quickly as possible and take to King Usulor the news of our discoveries. This is a job for a big army.”
“And leave Wimpolo in the hands of the enemy?” Don asked, “What can we hope to do? At least we have the satisfaction of knowing that the Princess is in the hands of human beings, and not depraved brutes.”
But he gave the orders to the animals, and the two moved off rapidly to the left of the fight, as Don had wanted.
Meanwhile the little squad of snake-cavalry was charging side by side, in one line. The inexplicably useless deathrays were still aimed ahead from each man’s right hand, while in the left each carried a broad, curved sword. But no pale beams shone from the boxes.
Then, suddenly, from the grey shape that seemed to be a submarine in the harbor there shone another ray like a slender thread of red fire. It shone, not at the heroic squad of snake-mounted cavalry but at the roof of the cavern high above. At the touch of the beam clouds of what seemed to be smoke poured out. It looked as though the rocks themselves were burning.[4] An enormous mass of rock fell from the cavern roof. It must have weighed millions of tons.
The speed of the charging snakes carried most of them beyond the main mass of falling stone, but odd rocks, flying out of the main fall, struck and crippled half the snakes and men. The line was broken, a disordered confusion.
A great crowd of ape-men, waving metal clubs and hurling huge stones, rushed at the disorganized line. Each guard found himself facing, at the same time, the blows of four or five beasts.
The ape-men seemed to flow over men and snakes like the sea over the shore, submerging them, hiding them from view. Wimpolo’s heroic guards had charged to death.
CHAPTER III
In the Ruined City
“IT looks bad, Hargreaves,” said Winter ton.
The two were standing in the dark looking down upon ruined Selketh. The fall of rock had blocked the hole out of which they had come. If any more guards were following the first twenty they would be unable to get through the hole until they had first removed many hundreds of tons of rock.
“At least Wimpolo is in the hands of human beings, and not animals,” Don said.
“Are you convinced now that it is hopeless to attempt a rescue?” Winterton asked. “Come back with me and let us report to King Usulor.”
“Look,” said Don, pointing. “See those huge dark shapes in the water. What are they?”
“Ships.”
“No. They are submarines. There are many of them. The people of the city are being marched aboard them.”
“You are right, Hargreaves. But what of it?”
“According to m
y guess, the Princess will be on board that biggest one of all, the one the burning ray came from. But where are they going? Where are they taking her? I will not go back until I have found out.”
“But my dear boy, it is hopeless.”
“The information we have got so far must certainly be conveyed to Usulor,” Don agreed. “Very well then. We will part. You return to Usulor and safety as quickly as you can. Let the snake carry you. I will remain here and see what I can do to help Princess Wimpolo. Will that suit you?”
“I don’t like to leave you like this, my boy,” said the Professor.
“You must. When Usulor gets here with his army all the apes will be gone. There will be no trace of the people of the city, nor of the Princess. They will have been carried in those submarines nobody knows where. I have to find out where. That will be dangerous, and there will be fighting. That is a young man’s job. Shall we say, ‘Good-bye?’ ”
“Good-bye, then.”
They shook hands. Professor Winterton’s grey-haired figure disappeared into the darkness, carried in one of the coils of the snake.
Don looked at his deathray box. It was quite out of action, making no response to his turning of handles and pressing of knobs. Perhaps it might be repaired later. He slung it over his back by the strap and drew his broad, curved sword.
At the word of command the zekolo carried him toward the city.
A SHRILL whistle was sounding, and all the ape-men seemed to be gathering in an open space where half a dozen Martians were giving them orders. Don reached the city unnoticed, and was soon hurrying through the streets. There were many bodies lying on sidewalk and roadway, testifying to the murderous violence of the ape-men’s assault.
He heard voices, and hid in a doorway. A crowd of inhabitants of the city was being driven through the streets by ape-men with metal clubs and ray boxes. The wrists of the captives were chained together.
When they had passed, Don made the zekolo carry him to the roof of one of the buildings to see where they were going. The zekolo climbed the wall without difficulty. Don looked across the city to see the captives being marched into the hatchway of one of the submarines in the harbor.
The Complete Saga of Don Hargreaves Page 9