The Gods of Mars

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CHAPTER XII

  DOOMED TO DIE

  For an instant I stood there before they fell upon me, but the firstrush of them forced me back a step or two. My foot felt for the floorbut found only empty space. I had backed into the pit which hadreceived Issus. For a second I toppled there upon the brink. Then Itoo with the boy still tightly clutched in my arms pitched backwardinto the black abyss.

  We struck a polished chute, the opening above us closed as magically asit had opened, and we shot down, unharmed, into a dimly lightedapartment far below the arena.

  As I rose to my feet the first thing I saw was the malignantcountenance of Issus glaring at me through the heavy bars of a grateddoor at one side of the chamber.

  "Rash mortal!" she shrilled. "You shall pay the awful penalty for yourblasphemy in this secret cell. Here you shall lie alone and indarkness with the carcass of your accomplice festering in itsrottenness by your side, until crazed by loneliness and hunger you feedupon the crawling maggots that were once a man."

  That was all. In another instant she was gone, and the dim light whichhad filled the cell faded into Cimmerian blackness.

  "Pleasant old lady," said a voice at my side.

  "Who speaks?" I asked.

  "'Tis I, your companion, who has had the honour this day of fightingshoulder to shoulder with the greatest warrior that ever wore metalupon Barsoom."

  "I thank God that you are not dead," I said. "I feared for that nastycut upon your head."

  "It but stunned me," he replied. "A mere scratch."

  "Maybe it were as well had it been final," I said. "We seem to be in apretty fix here with a splendid chance of dying of starvation andthirst."

  "Where are we?"

  "Beneath the arena," I replied. "We tumbled down the shaft thatswallowed Issus as she was almost at our mercy."

  He laughed a low laugh of pleasure and relief, and then reaching outthrough the inky blackness he sought my shoulder and pulled my earclose to his mouth.

  "Nothing could be better," he whispered. "There are secrets within thesecrets of Issus of which Issus herself does not dream."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I laboured with the other slaves a year since in the remodelling ofthese subterranean galleries, and at that time we found below these anancient system of corridors and chambers that had been sealed up forages. The blacks in charge of the work explored them, taking severalof us along to do whatever work there might be occasion for. I knowthe entire system perfectly.

  "There are miles of corridors honeycombing the ground beneath thegardens and the temple itself, and there is one passage that leads downto and connects with the lower regions that open on the water shaftthat gives passage to Omean.

  "If we can reach the submarine undetected we may yet make the sea inwhich there are many islands where the blacks never go. There we maylive for a time, and who knows what may transpire to aid us to escape?"

  He had spoken all in a low whisper, evidently fearing spying ears evenhere, and so I answered him in the same subdued tone.

  "Lead back to Shador, my friend," I whispered. "Xodar, the black, isthere. We were to attempt our escape together, so I cannot desert him."

  "No," said the boy, "one cannot desert a friend. It were better to berecaptured ourselves than that."

  Then he commenced groping his way about the floor of the dark chambersearching for the trap that led to the corridors beneath. At length hesummoned me by a low, "S-s-t," and I crept toward the sound of hisvoice to find him kneeling on the brink of an opening in the floor.

  "There is a drop here of about ten feet," he whispered. "Hang by yourhands and you will alight safely on a level floor of soft sand."

  Very quietly I lowered myself from the inky cell above into the inkypit below. So utterly dark was it that we could not see our hands atan inch from our noses. Never, I think, have I known such completeabsence of light as existed in the pits of Issus.

  For an instant I hung in mid air. There is a strange sensationconnected with an experience of that nature which is quite difficult todescribe. When the feet tread empty air and the distance below isshrouded in darkness there is a feeling akin to panic at the thought ofreleasing the hold and taking the plunge into unknown depths.

  Although the boy had told me that it was but ten feet to the floorbelow I experienced the same thrills as though I were hanging above abottomless pit. Then I released my hold and dropped--four feet to asoft cushion of sand.

  The boy followed me.

  "Raise me to your shoulders," he said, "and I will replace the trap."

  This done he took me by the hand, leading me very slowly, with muchfeeling about and frequent halts to assure himself that he did notstray into wrong passageways.

  Presently we commenced the descent of a very steep incline.

  "It will not be long," he said, "before we shall have light. At thelower levels we meet the same stratum of phosphorescent rock thatilluminates Omean."

  Never shall I forget that trip through the pits of Issus. While it wasdevoid of important incidents yet it was filled for me with a strangecharm of excitement and adventure which I think must have hingedprincipally on the unguessable antiquity of these long-forgottencorridors. The things which the Stygian darkness hid from my objectiveeye could not have been half so wonderful as the pictures which myimagination wrought as it conjured to life again the ancient peoples ofthis dying world and set them once more to the labours, the intrigues,the mysteries and the cruelties which they had practised to make theirlast stand against the swarming hordes of the dead sea bottoms that haddriven them step by step to the uttermost pinnacle of the world wherethey were now intrenched behind an impenetrable barrier of superstition.

  In addition to the green men there had been three principal races uponBarsoom. The blacks, the whites, and a race of yellow men. As thewaters of the planet dried and the seas receded, all other resourcesdwindled until life upon the planet became a constant battle forsurvival.

  The various races had made war upon one another for ages, and the threehigher types had easily bested the green savages of the water places ofthe world, but now that the receding seas necessitated constantabandonment of their fortified cities and forced upon them a more orless nomadic life in which they became separated into smallercommunities they soon fell prey to the fierce hordes of green men. Theresult was a partial amalgamation of the blacks, whites and yellows,the result of which is shown in the present splendid race of red men.

  I had always supposed that all traces of the original races haddisappeared from the face of Mars, yet within the past four days I hadfound both whites and blacks in great multitudes. Could it be possiblethat in some far-off corner of the planet there still existed a remnantof the ancient race of yellow men?

  My reveries were broken in upon by a low exclamation from the boy.

  "At last, the lighted way," he cried, and looking up I beheld at a longdistance before us a dim radiance.

  As we advanced the light increased until presently we emerged intowell-lighted passageways. From then on our progress was rapid until wecame suddenly to the end of a corridor that let directly upon the ledgesurrounding the pool of the submarine.

  The craft lay at her moorings with uncovered hatch. Raising his fingerto his lips and then tapping his sword in a significant manner, theyouth crept noiselessly toward the vessel. I was close at his heels.

  Silently we dropped to the deserted deck, and on hands and kneescrawled toward the hatchway. A stealthy glance below revealed no guardin sight, and so with the quickness and the soundlessness of cats wedropped together into the main cabin of the submarine. Even here wasno sign of life. Quickly we covered and secured the hatch.

  Then the boy stepped into the pilot house, touched a button and theboat sank amid swirling waters toward the bottom of the shaft. Eventhen there was no scurrying of feet as we had expected, and while theboy remained to direct the boat I slid from cabin to cabin in futilesearch for
some member of the crew. The craft was entirely deserted.Such good fortune seemed almost unbelievable.

  When I returned to the pilot house to report the good news to mycompanion he handed me a paper.

  "This may explain the absence of the crew," he said.

  It was a radio-aerial message to the commander of the submarine:

  "The slaves have risen. Come with what men you have and those that youcan gather on the way. Too late to get aid from Omean. They aremassacring all within the amphitheatre. Issus is threatened. Haste.

  "ZITHAD"

  "Zithad is Dator of the guards of Issus," explained the youth. "Wegave them a bad scare--one that they will not soon forget."

  "Let us hope that it is but the beginning of the end of Issus," I said.

  "Only our first ancestor knows," he replied.

  We reached the submarine pool in Omean without incident. Here wedebated the wisdom of sinking the craft before leaving her, but finallydecided that it would add nothing to our chances for escape. Therewere plenty of blacks on Omean to thwart us were we apprehended;however many more might come from the temples and gardens of Issuswould not in any way decrease our chances.

  We were now in a quandary as to how to pass the guards who patrolledthe island about the pool. At last I hit upon a plan.

  "What is the name or title of the officer in charge of these guards?" Iasked the boy.

  "A fellow named Torith was on duty when we entered this morning," hereplied.

  "Good. And what is the name of the commander of the submarine?"

  "Yersted."

  I found a dispatch blank in the cabin and wrote the following order:

  "Dator Torith: Return these two slaves at once to Shador.

  "YERSTED"

  "That will be the simpler way to return," I said, smiling, as I handedthe forged order to the boy. "Come, we shall see now how well itworks."

  "But our swords!" he exclaimed. "What shall we say to explain them?"

  "Since we cannot explain them we shall have to leave them behind us," Ireplied.

  "Is it not the extreme of rashness to thus put ourselves again,unarmed, in the power of the First Born?"

  "It is the only way," I answered. "You may trust me to find a way outof the prison of Shador, and I think, once out, that we shall find nogreat difficulty in arming ourselves once more in a country whichabounds so plentifully in armed men."

  "As you say," he replied with a smile and shrug. "I could not followanother leader who inspired greater confidence than you. Come, let usput your ruse to the test."

  Boldly we emerged from the hatchway of the craft, leaving our swordsbehind us, and strode to the main exit which led to the sentry's postand the office of the Dator of the guard.

  At sight of us the members of the guard sprang forward in surprise, andwith levelled rifles halted us. I held out the message to one of them.He took it and seeing to whom it was addressed turned and handed it toTorith who was emerging from his office to learn the cause of thecommotion.

  The black read the order, and for a moment eyed us with evidentsuspicion.

  "Where is Dator Yersted?" he asked, and my heart sank within me, as Icursed myself for a stupid fool in not having sunk the submarine tomake good the lie that I must tell.

  "His orders were to return immediately to the temple landing," Ireplied.

  Torith took a half step toward the entrance to the pool as though tocorroborate my story. For that instant everything hung in the balance,for had he done so and found the empty submarine still lying at herwharf the whole weak fabric of my concoction would have tumbled aboutour heads; but evidently he decided the message must be genuine, norindeed was there any good reason to doubt it since it would scarce haveseemed credible to him that two slaves would voluntarily have giventhemselves into custody in any such manner as this. It was the veryboldness of the plan which rendered it successful.

  "Were you connected with the rising of the slaves?" asked Torith. "Wehave just had meagre reports of some such event."

  "All were involved," I replied. "But it amounted to little. Theguards quickly overcame and killed the majority of us."

  He seemed satisfied with this reply. "Take them to Shador," heordered, turning to one of his subordinates. We entered a small boatlying beside the island, and in a few minutes were disembarking uponShador. Here we were returned to our respective cells; I with Xodar,the boy by himself; and behind locked doors we were again prisoners ofthe First Born.