By the time the green warrior raised the gun to his shoulder again the Banth was out of range. Shea said:
“Doctor, I don’t like the way the ship behaves. We ought to have risen faster.”
Ras Thavas said: “It is possible that the shot that struck our hull has caused a small leak in one of the buoyancy tanks.”
“We must watch our altitude,” grumbled Shea, plotting the course to Toonol again.
* * *
A glance over the side showed that they were entering a widespread marshland, stretching to the horizon. Below, small streams and lakes were interspersed with patches of solid vegetation. Shea said:
“Looks like Barsoom’s last wetland.” Then be had to explain the term “wetland.” “Time was,” he said, “when it was considered the right, natural thing for any Earther to kill any wild animal he came upon, and to drain and ditch wetlands to turn them into farmland. But lately people have begun to see that wetlands have their essential function, too. Get rid of them and you’ll be sorry.”
“I understand,” said Ras Thavas. “A few Barsoomians have tried to agitate similar proposals to conserve natural features. But so far the masses have taken the view that these are mere busybodies seeking excuses to meddle in others’ affairs and to deprive them of their normal means of making their livings. One might think that the length of Barsoomian lives would lead the rabble to take a long view, extending over centuries or millennia. But most find a year as far ahead as they can or are willing to think.”
“Sounds like Earth,” said Shea.
“How is your altitude holding, Doctor?” asked Ras Thavas.
“Losing, little by little. I don’t like to empty our last bags of ballast, because that would leave us without vertical control.”
“I can see that we are flying lower and lower,” said Ras Thavas. “Perhaps we had better alight on the first good landing spot we find, rather than wait for the loss of refufupizaidi to bring us down on a spot not of our choosing.”
“Sound thinking,” said Shea.
“What else would you expect, from one of my superior intel — Sorry; there I go again.” With a shamefaced grin, Ras Thavas got out his telescope and scanned the marsh-land below and ahead of them. “Methinks I see a patch flat enough, dry enough, and sufficiently unencumbered by plant life to serve our needs. About ten degrees to port, Doctor.”
* * *
The Banth came down to a quiet landing on a patch of soil overgrown with the yellow-pink moss instead of the ubiquitous shrubs, trees, and swamp plants. Shea said:
“I don’t think its practical to try to walk to Toonol.”
Belphebe said: “The understatement of the year, darling. Is there any chance you could find and repair the leak? You were always pretty fast with the wrench and the soldering iron with our car.”
Scrutinizing the hull, Ras Thavas said: “I cannot see any holes in the tanks. But then, we should have to take the whole ship apart to find a mere pinhole, and all the remaining refufupizaidi would escape. Have we any lift left?”
Shea worked the controls, “I think there’s a little; but not enough to raise us off the ground. So we might as well manhandle the Banth into the water. If the hull leaks, we can use those mugs we brought along for lunch to bail it out.”
Belphebe: “Can this flier float?”
“It should,” said Ras Thavas. “When, following discovery of the refufupizaidi, these machines were first devised, their design followed that of the smaller water craft, since remnants of Barsoom’s oceans still existed. That was before my time. So fliers still look something like boats. Propose you to attempt the rest of our journey by water?”
“We can try.” said Shea, “Even if the swamp watercourses wriggle like worms on a hook, I think I can figure out a route from this map.”
“What are worms on a hook?” inquired Ras Thavas. Shea explained, adding: “What worries me more right now is how we shall ever get this contraption back to Lesser Helium, to recover our deposit. It took most of our liquid funds.”
“I may be able to tide you over.” said Ras Thavas.
“What, you?” said Shea in mock astonishment. “You being altruistic?”
Ras Thavas looked embarrassed. “I try to benefit from your pronouncements, Doctor. Since we are all in this together, it is the logical course to follow. And I am sure that we shall be able to have the ship repaired in Toonol.”
* * *
“All right,” said Shea, taking a grip on the stem of the Banth. “Let’s see how that fine new body Vad Varo gave you works with loads. Take the bow, and grab the end of the painter.”
“Grab what? Oh, you mean the rope at the how. I fear my Barsoomian thews are not the equivalent of yours, since my body — either this one or its predecessor — lacked the advantage of growing up on a high-gravity planet. On your own world are you classed as a man of exceptional strength?”
“Not at all,” said Shea. “If anything, I rate as a rather skinny fellow.”
“Fortunately for me,” said Ras Thavas, “my superior brain has made it unnecessary to develop musculature above that which I inherited, and the habits that I formed in the thousand years of my former life have remained with me, At least, in the Bauth, you will not be able to force calisthenics upon me!”
With final grunts, they slid the ship into the stagnant water. Shea seized the painter, and the three boarded the craft, which rocked a little. Shea coiled the painter, studied his map, and bent to turn on the motor, The airscrew revolved in its case, slowly at first, then faster until it became a blur to the sight. Shea said:
“Doctor please get up on the forward deck to watch for snags and shallows, so you can warn me off them.”
“Can’t we go faster?” said Belphebe.
“I don’t dare, lest we run into an obstacle. So I have set the motor control to ‘medium’.”
* * *
For hours, Shea navigated the flier cautiously through the countless creeks and sloughs of the Toonolian Marsh. In the bow, Ras Thavas called back warnings of snags and shallows. Once a half-submerged log turned out to be an animal of the crocodillan kind.
“I sure don’t want to run into him,” said Shea, “He might take it into his little reptilian brain to come aboard.”
“Harold!” cried Belphebe. “Look at that thing overhead! We’re going to pass right under it.” She bent her efforts to stringing her bow.
“Where?” said Shea. “Oh, that! Looks like a tough customer, how about it, Doctor?”
“If you leave it alone, it will probably extend the same courtesy to you,” said the savant.
The creature in question looked something like a man-sized lizard with six legs, each leg ending in formidable hooked claws. It was perched on a branch of a large tree that grew out of the water in midchannel. Belphebe shrieked:
“Watch out, Harold!”
Shea’s attention had been distracted long enough for the Banth to run head-on into the tree. Ras Thavas slid off the bow into the muddy water. The tree shuddered, and the Barsoomian swamp lizard felt from its branch to land on the engine compartment of the flier, forward of the seat in which Shea sat handling the controls. Belphebe had occupied the other seat, but she had risen to string her bow. She seized one of the safety cleats to steady herself.
In falling off the bow, Ras Thavas had quick-wittedly grabbed the painter. He had scarcely emerged from the water when he began hauling himself up on the bow again.
“Don’t shoot!” cried Belphebe, who had nocked an arrow but not drawn it. “If you missed, you’d hit Ras Thavas!”
Shea, trading stares with the swamp reptile at arms length, returned his pistol to its holster and instead drew his short sword, saying:
“At such close quarters, I’d prefer this.”
The reptile hissed and yawned, showing formidable fangs. Further forward, Ras Thavas called:
“Let it alone, Shea! I have it under control.”
Shea could not see what sort of control t
he savant had over the swamp reptile. But after a few more seconds, the animal turned and dove over the side. It swam away with serpentine sweeps of its tail.
“How did you do that, Doctor?” asked Shea.
“All higher forms of Barsoomian life are more or less telepathic,” said Ras Thavas. “I simply exerted my superior mental powers, and chide me not for referring to those powers. Without them, you and your lady might have sustained fatal wounds. These animals are difficult to kill. Is there a towel aboard to wipe off this muck?”
Shea hunted through the lockers until he found a piece of suitable cloth. He said:
“At least on Earth you’d be covered with clothes, which would have to be washed before you wore them again.”
“Perhaps you can explain this curious Earthian custom of covering oneself with textiles, even when the air is warm enough not to need them.”
Shea sighed. “Some of the leading religions insist upon it. I suppose it goes back to primitive times, when our brutish ancestors, up to then as naked as you Barsoomians, first migrated out of Africa, a hot continent, to colder climes. . . .”
Shea was well into a lecture on the anthropological explanation of the nudity tabu prevalent in Judaism and its two offshoot religions, Christianity and Islam, when something flew past with a loud buzz. Ras Thavas uttered a shrill scream and threw himself down on the floorboards.
The flying organism whirled about in a circle and returned. Belphebe cried out and slapped at it. “It tried to sting me!”
“Keep it away from me!” shrilled Ras Thavas, cowering in the bottom of the flier.
Shea started to reach for his revolver, then changed his mind and drew his short sword. When he got a good look at the flying organism, he saw something resembling an Earthly hornet, but several times as large, with a length the span of his hand and a wingspread the length of Shea’s foot.
“There’s another!” yelled Ras Thavas. “Save me, Doctor Shea!”
The first intruder hovered, rising and falling with a bouncing motion. Shea swung his short sword, His blade struck the flier with a click and sent its body whirling away in two pieces The second pseudo-hornet instantly swooped down and stung Shea in his right buttock.
Shea jumped with an angry yell and, with a backhand slash, slew this attacker also. A third buzzed up and was likewise bisected by Shea’s blade.
“We must be near a nest!” wailed Ras Thavas. “Speed up the motor! The smell of dead stiths will fetch more of them!”
Shea stuck the point of his short sword into the floorboards, leaving it standing upright and gently rocking back and forth. He advanced the motor control, and the Banth surged forward. Another stith circled the Banth and swooped toward its passengers, but it tried to fly through the propellor and was hurled away in pieces.
“Are they all gone?” quavered Ras Thavas.
“Seem to be,” grunted Shea, running a hand over his swollen fundament. “Get up, Doctor; you’re not hurt. I’m the one with a sore arse, who’ll have to eat standing up for a while.”
“I — I am sorry that you should behold me in such contemptible shape,” said Ras Thavas. “It is my only weakness.”
“You mean a phobia about creeping things?”
“Yes, I am shamed to say. The mere sight of even a harmless one sends me into a panic. I trust you will not regale the other Barsoomians, as a great joke, with the tale of the downfall of the mighty Ras Thavas.”
“The story is safe with me,” said Shea. “In my trade as psychologist, I come upon all sorts of phobias. Some I can cure, at least in my own species. Do you know how you came to have this phobia?”
“I have a vague notion that a stith must have stun me as a child, but it would have happened a thousand years ago, and I have no clear memory of the incident. Could you cure me?”
“Doubt if I had a chance to by, Doctor. It would take many days of conditioning.”
“How would you do it?”
“By gradually habituating you to the sight of such a bug, let’s say starting with a picture of one, then a mounted dead one, and so on, until you could handle a live one without a shudder.”
“I must try such a cure on myself.” mumbled Ras Thavas. “It were painful but better than the risk of making a fool of myself in public.” The savant cracked a wintry smile. “At least, you can tell the folk back on your Earth that the stith does not grow to the size of a thoat, as that writer would have his readers believe.”
“They couldn’t,” said Shea, “because of having to have soft bodies during times of growth. That doesn’t work when you wear your skeleton on the outside. There are also difficulties with increases in size in getting enough oxygen to the muscles. . . .”V
Vantos Vaz, the Chief Constable of Toonol, said: “Yes, yes, Doctor Shea. I understand that you are an alien on this world. But I must put you down on this form as of a place on this world, not some other. Nobody’s identification is complete without it.”
“All right,” said Shea. “Call me Sir Harold Shea of Zodanga; that’s where we were a few nights ago. I could say ‘of Ptarth,’ but I think Zodanga has a prettier name. Now, how about our fugitive wizard and our daughter?”
“Yes, Doctor Shea, such a person did arrive in Toonol a few days past. A tall, gray-bearded man of alien aspect, with a light-tan skin, wrapped in a robe ornamented with golden thread. He insists on retaining this robe, as if Toonol were in the polar regions. He had with him an unmistakable alien child with yellow hair, whom he kept under control by means of a harness and leash. I must get such an apparatus for my wife, to control our own hatchlings. Why do you wish to know?”
Shea told of Malamhroso’s abduction of Voglinda. Ras Thavas added:
“I have been traveling with Doctor and Mrs. Shea and have found them persons of exceptional faithworthyness.”
The Chief Constable sighed. “If the world-famous Ras Thavas says it is so, it must be so. Mean you to slay this Malambroso person? I warn you, homicides are not permitted save in accordance with the code and through the licensed guild of assassins.”
“No,” said Shea “While Malambroso’s demise would not cause me inconsolable grief, our main objective is to get our daughter hack, unharmed. All else is secondary.”
Belphebe added: “if Malambroso would just go away and leave us alone, we should be satisfied. Where is the scoundrel now?”
“According to the last report from the officer assigned to watch him,” said Vantos Vaz, “he and the little girl have put up at the Purple Apt. Were you going thither forthwith?”
“Not quite, sir,” said Shea. “First we must make arrangements for the repair of our flier. Who gives first-class service in such matters, at reasonable prices?”
Vantos Vaz suggested a repair shop, adding “Do not be surprised if I assign a man to watch you. Since a confrontation is likely betwixt you and this off-world magician, we must make sure that any slaying is done in accordance with the law. Undermanned as we are, we find it hard to make all killers follow the code. Had you a difficult trip through the Toonolian Marsh?”
“Not too hard,” replied Shea, “except that we ran out of food and starved, although we killed and tried to cook a swamp lizard. We’ve been eating like pigs since we arrived to make up.”
“What is a pig?” asked the Chief Constable.
* * *
Ras Thavas, Shea, and Belphebe returned to Van Larik’s Inn after a fatiguing morning of hunting down the machine shop recommended and then waiting while the mechanics disassembled the Banth and examined the buouyancy tanks for signs of a leak.
Shea opened the door to his room and stepped aside to let Belphebe enter. He and Ras Thavas followed her in, when a sound caused all three to whirl.
For a closet, the room had a simple conservatory consisting of a rail curving out from the wall and back to the wall again. From this rail hung a curtain. Now the curtain had been thrust back on its curtain rings, revealing Malambroso in a purple robe, Voglinda in her harness, and a naked
red Barsoomian in his caparison of straps and sheaths longsword in hand. Malambroso trained on the Sheas a large black automatic pistol of a common Earthly make.
“Well!” grated Malambroso. “It seems that I am destined to encounter Doctor Sir Harold again! Reach not for your pistol, Doctor Shea. If you do, I shall shoot you dead. Or better yet . . .” Malambroso trained his gun on Voglinda. “Force me not to end the life of this winsome young lady. I have become quite fond of her in the short time that we have been traveling companions. Would you believe it, last night we stopped at a place where an orchestra was playing and couples were dancing. Voglinda insisted that I take her out on the dance floor, too. Imagine me, at my age, wheeling this tot around on the floor!
“I see that you and your wife, Doctor Shea. have adopted the local costume, or lack thereof. Thank Lucifer, I at least retain a civilized sense of decency, even though my robe causes the natives to stare!”
“And who, then, is the Barsoomian?” asked Shea. “I don’t believe I have had the pleasure of meeting him.”
“The pleasure, I am certain, will prove ephemeral,” said Malambroso. “Know that this is the honorable Spor Mopus. a leading light of the local assassins guild. He has come with me to kill you. Lady Belphebe, think not to string your bow, or you shall suffer the same fate as Doctor Shea.”
“Now why,” said Shea, “should the honorable Spor Mopus wish to kill me? I am too lean to make good eating.”
“He will slay you because I have hired him to do so. But he insists that the killing must be done in accordance with the highest ethical principles. He will not even let me shoot you, unless you draw a gun on me first. It must be done with honest face-to-face swordplay. If you will kindly draw your sword, he will set out upon his task.”
The red Barsoomian stepped forward, bringing his sword up to guard position.
“This is childish nonsense,” grumbled Ras Thavas. “So is all the elaborate politeness betwixt you twain.”
“Since,” said Spor Mopus, “you disdain our ancient and honorable principles, I shall tend to you after I have finished off this alien. Have at you, Doctor Shea!”
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