Title:      The Outlaws of Mars
Author:     Otis Adelbert Kline
* A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.:  0601551.txt
Edition:    1
Language:   English
Character set encoding:     Latin-1(ISO-8859-1)--8 bit
Date first posted:          June 2006
Date most recently updated: June 2006

This eBook was produced by: Richard Scott and Colin Choat

Project Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed editions
which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice
is included. We do NOT keep any eBooks in compliance with a particular
paper edition.

Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this
file.

This eBook is made available at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
of the Project Gutenberg of Australia License which may be viewed online at
http://gutenberg.net.au/licence.html

To contact Project Gutenberg of Australia go to http://gutenberg.net.au

The Outlaws of Mars

by

Otis Adelbert Kline

CHAPTER I

As THE powerful car plunged up the mountain road Jerry Morgan wondered what sort of reception awaited him at the end of this drive. Would the mysterious, eccentric man who was his uncle, and who lived in this mountain retreat which his nephew had never been permitted to visit, turn him away now?

It was not until he had reached the highest limit of timber growth that he came upon a log habitation built against the mountainside which rose steeply behind it, rugged and bare of vegetation. He stopped the car in front of the log porch, off the road enough to avoid blocking it. No one was around; no one appeared as he slammed the car door shut, climbed the steps and crossed the veranda. No one answered his knock; the door swung open at the impact and Jerry entered.

He found himself in a large living room, finished and furnished in pioneer style, the walls decorated with trophies. Despite the chill at this altitude, there was only cold, gray ashes mingled with bits of charcoal in the fireplace. Jerry had the feeling that the place had not been lived in for some time.

Exploration confirmed his initial impression. Shelves in the kitchen were empty save for a few dishes and utensils. There was no sign of food, and a thin film of dust had settled over everything, even the sink.

Puzzled, he returned to the living room and seated himself on a birch settee before the cold fireplace. Obviously, though this was the nominal residence of his uncle, Doctor Richard Morgan did not really live here. Where, then, did he live? As far as Jerry had been able to see in every direction there had been no sign of a building of any kind, save this one.

As he sat there, reflecting on these mysteries, he suddenly heard the door open, and turning, saw his uncle.

Like his nephew, Richard Morgan was tall and powerfully built. The remaining black among the silver hair and beard was as jet as Jerry's, and though he did not look like a military man, his presence radiated authority. His forehead was high and bulged outward over shaggy eyebrows that met above his aquiline nose; and he wore a pointed, closely cropped Vandyke.

"Glad to see you, Jerry," boomed the doctor in his resonant bass voice. "I've been expecting you."

Jerry Morgan stared in amazement as he took his uncle's proffered hand. "Expecting me? Why, I told no one-intended to surprise you. It sounds almost like thought-transference."

"Perhaps you are nearer the truth than you imagine," replied the doctor, seating himself.

Jerry brushed this aside, mentally, as he groped for the proper words with which to frame his next speech. "I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to tell you, Uncle Richard," he began. "The fact is, I've disgraced . . .

"I, know all about it, Jerry," said the doctor gently, and then proceeded to give a detailed account of the episode the young man had been about to tell. He ended with: "You knew the colonel would never believe a story about your being framed in a manner reminiscent of nineteenth century melodrama, so you had no choice but to resign. What you didn't know was that it was not Lieutenant Tracy, your rival, who arranged the affair but Elaine herself."

"Impossible, uncle. . .

"Think, Jerry. Had you told anyone-anyone but Elaine-that you were not going directly back to your quarters as usual, but were stopping at the drugstore in town first? Someone had to know you would be in town at a certain time that night in order for the plan to succeed. It couldn't have worked in any other place, although it could have happened at a later time. And Lieutenant Tracy was in the field that night, and could not have been privy to it. In fact, he knew nothing of it at all."

"Then I misjudged them both-Tracy and Elaine."

"Not too badly in Tracy's case, I should say. He just wouldn't have done it that way though. He couldn't have been as sure of the colonel's reaction as the colonel's daughter was, you see. Well, don't fret about them my lad. They're two of a kind and they richly deserve each other...And now will you believe me if I tell you I know everything you've done since? Good." He stood up. "You have guessed that I don't live here-that this place is only a dummy habitation to keep the folk who live hereabout from prying into my affairs. Follow me."

He led the way through the kitchen, and thence down a stairway into the garage. At the back was a tier of shelving. The doctor reached behind a shelf and pulled. Instantly, the whole tier swung back from the wall, revealing a dark passageway, hewn from the rock, leading into the mountainside.

"Enter," said the doctor.

At the end of the tunnel they came to a sliding door, which the doctor pushed back. Behind it was an automatic elevator. They entered; Morgan touched a button and they rose noiselessly. At the end of the ascent, they stepped out into a large, airy hallway, into which filtered sunlight streamed through irregularly shaped skylights of frosted glass.

"Seen from the outside, those skylights simulate the drifts and ridges of snow which surround us," said Morgan. "We are now at the peak of the mountain, and this building is so constructed that, viewed from near or far, it appears to be a part of it."

"Amazing!" exclaimed Jerry. "I pictured you in a little cabin, perhaps with a small laboratory."

"I have other surprises for you," said the doctor. "In the meantime, Boyd will show you to your room. He has already installed your luggage and drawn your bath. I'm sure you will want to freshen up' after your journey. See you at breakfast."

"Before I tell you of my life's work," said Morgan, as they attacked the viands before them, "let's talk about you. I know precisely how you feel. You have lost your career and the woman you wanted, and you have come to me for the rest of your patrimony, with which you expect to embark on a certain desperate adventure. The odds are a thousand to one against your coming out alive, but this means little to you the way you feel now."

He proceeded to relate full details of Jerry Morgan's plans.

"You seem to read my innermost thoughts, uncle, as if they were a printed page spread before you. I can't imagine how you know all this, but you are right."

Morgan sighed. "If you are determined to go on with this, I'll do all in my power to help you. Yet it is my hope that I may be able to offer you a new interest in life-new adventures that will serve a most excellent purpose, and beside which the one you have planned will pale to insignificance.

"You have said, half in jest, that I appear to read your mind. I do; I have always read your mind, since the death of, your parents put you under my guardianship-which took place after I had perfected my experiments with telepathy. Telepathy, one of the most remarkable powers of the objective mind, is not affected by time or distance. It acts instantly, once contact has been established.

"I started out trying to build a device which would pick up and amplify thought waves. This led to contact with a man on Mars who was experimenting in transmitting thought-waves-but not the Mars of today," he added, seeing the expression on Jerry's face. "Lal Vak, the Martian, spoke and still speaks to me from the Mars some millions of years ago, when a human civilization did exist there. We found that personalities could be exchanged between certain Martians and Earthmen who were nearly doubles physically, and whose brain-patterns were similar. Since that time, we established contact with a Venusian, Vorn Vangal who is contemporary with Lal Vak. I am presently in contact with both of these men who, to our niche in space-time have been dead for millions of years. I was able to send two Earthmen to Mars and two to Venus, through personality exchange. The two men on Venus are still alive, and in communication with me. Of the two I sent to Mars, only one remains; the other, who was a criminal, was slain by his fellow-Earthman. This leaves me with only one representative on Mars."

Had it not been for the demonstration he had already received in relation to Morgan's intimate knowledge of his own affairs, Jerry Morgan would have been far from credulous. Under the shock of what he had learned, it seemed somehow believable. "It sounds interesting," he said, trying not to be carried away. "How about sending my personality to Mars."

"Lal Vak, Vorn Vangal and I have worked out improvements," Morgan said. "I am now prepared to send you on a journey through time and space in the flesh."

"Then you must have some sort of space-time vehicle."

"Follow me, and I will show you," replied the doctor, rising.

CHAPTER II

IN THE center of the high, dome-roofed shed stood a huge globe, more than fifty feet in diameter. It was covered with thick asbestos, held in place by a meshwork of steel cables. A circular metal plate, studded with bolts, and apparently the lid of a doorway or manhole, was on the side facing them.

"I am indebted to the people of Olba, a nation on Venus, for the mechanism which makes this space-time vehicle possible," said the doctor. "I do not pretend to understand it myself, and can only tell you that it has made several trips successfully-though without any human cargo. The power which propels it either comes from or is tapped by the human brain, and what you may have heard of as telekinesis is as good an explanation as any. I already have contact with the mechanism. Now watch the metal plate and see what happens."

Jerry watched, then uttered an exclamation as it began to turn swiftly, projecting farther and farther from the surface of the sphere with each turn. It was threaded, and when it unscrewed itself for a distance of about five feet, it suddenly fell forward with a loud click, and hung suspended by a heavy metal hinge, revealing a dark hole in the sphere. Then a ladder of flexible steel cable uncoiled itself from the dark depths, and dropped to the ground.

Jerry sprang up the ladder and crawled into the hole. After following a narrow passageway for about twenty feet he came to a small circular room about ten feet in diameter. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room were thickly padded and suffused with soft light. He turned as a shadow blocked the 'light from the tube.

"How do you like it?" asked Morgan.

"Fine," replied Jerry. "Why not let me start now?"

"I had that thought in mind when I brought you here. However, landing on Mars will have difficulties because of the rarer atmosphere-not as rare as the Mars of today, but noticeably more so than what you're accustomed to. Because of this, and the lesser gravity, your heart and lungs will have to make readjustments, and it will take time to become acclimated. Go slowly, when you leave the sphere."

"How long will it take to get there?"

"I cannot calculate precisely, but it will not take long."

"And do you know on what part of the planet I will alight?"

Morgan nodded. "While you were crossing the United States by train, Lal Vak was traveling from his home in the city of Dukor, to Raliad, largest city of Mars. He is now housed in the imperial palace of Raliad, and is in contact with meso the globe, directed by our minds, will travel straight to the palace. When you arrive, he will be there to greet you, and to teach you the language of Mars. After that, you will have to shift for yourself."

"Fair enough. But what do you want me to do on Mars? I gather that I can be of help to science, or something of the sort."

"If you succeed in living on Mars, you will be the first Earthman to do so in the flesh. After that, my thought-recorder will be in contact with you, day and night, making a record of what you see and do. Alighting in Raliad, greatest city of Mars, you will communicate much valuable knowledge regarding this mighty city. From the moment you land, you will be an explorer, automatically relating your adventures to us here."

The doctor raised the lid of a case which Jerry had previously noticed, fastened against the wall. It contained a repeating rifle, a Colt forty-five in a shoulder holster, a hunting knife, a camp axe, a canteen, and a number of boxes of ammunition and provisions.

"For emergency," said the doctor, "just in case you should happen not to alight at the imperial palace in Raliad." He closed the lid and secured it. "Now let me strap you to the center of the floor, and you will be ready to start."

A few minutes later, warm farewells had been made, the doctor departed, and the outer door screwed into place.

The globe lurched unsteadily for a moment, then Jerry found himself forced suddenly against the floor as it shot swiftly upward. Gradually the intense pressure against his body grew less and was followed by a feeling of lightness. This feeling lasted for only a few moments; then he felt himself growing heavier, but the sensation was most peculiar. For instead of pressing against the floor, his body was now pulling away from it-tugging against the straps as if in an effort to rise toward the ceiling.

The strange pressure of the straps gradually lessened. Then he felt a slight jolt, and the floor began wobbling unsteadily beneath him. Evidently the globe had landed-but on what?

Hastily unfastening his straps, he got to his feet, but the effort shot him up against the ceiling of the cubicle. When he stood on the swaying floor again he saw that the door was unscrewing itself. A moment later it dropped down from the opening, and bright daylight came in through the hole.

His first look outside convinced him that he had really landed on Mars. The sun, though it appeared much smaller than when viewed from Earth, blazed brightly with a peculiar, blue-white light. It hung just above a horizon of weird and grotesque plant growths. Looking downward, Jerry saw that the globe had alighted on the shallow, sandy margin of a small lagoon, and its rocking was occasioned by the wash of waves driven by a stiff breeze.

His heart pounded wildly as he gazed about him at this strange landscape, and a giddiness assailed him. Believing this to be due to the lessened gravity of the planet on which the globe now rested, he waited for his circulatory system to adjust itself. Slowly, cautiously, he inhaled the air. It was cool and sweet, but somehow it did not satisfy him. He filled his lungs to capacity, again and again, but his heart resumed its wild pounding; there was a feeling of pressure in his eardrums. A gray haze obscured his vision, he fought against it, but to no avail.

He fell back, gasping for breath, then all went black.

CHAPTER III

JERRY'S senses returned slowly.

His lungs ached from their unwonted exertions, his throat was dry and parched, and his heart was drumming in his ears.

Slowly, cautiously, he sat up. His fingernails, he saw, were still quite blue, evidence that he had escaped suffocation by a very narrow margin. The sun had risen at least twenty degrees, proving that he had been unconscious for more than an hour.

For some time he sat there, inhaling the cool, sweet air; then he got up cautiously, and went back into the cubicle. Here he opened the case which contained his weapons, equipment, ammunition and provisions. He loaded the rifle and pistol, and filled his pockets with ammunition for both weapons. The balance of the ammunition and provisions he placed in a heavy canvas bag provided for the purpose, and fitted with straps so it could be slung over his back.

After strapping the pistol, camp axe, knife and canteen in place, he slung the pack over his back, took up the rifle, and creeping through the narrow passageway, turned and descended the ladder. The shallow water at its foot only came to his ankles, and he splashed up onto the sandy beach.

As he stood there, scanning the strange trees and shrubbery before him, he heard a sharp click. The ladder had been withdrawn into the globe, and the door was screwing itself into place. A moment more and it was tight; then the globe rose, water dripping from beneath it. It soon became a tiny speck which rapidly faded from view.

Resolutely he turned away, and climbing the sloping beach, strode in among the strange, treelike growths which fringed the shore. Now Jerry felt an exhilarating sense of lightness and freedom of movement. The weight of his supplies, equipment and weapons was but trifling; and it seemed as if the metal parts of his rifle were made of aluminum rather than steel.

As he passed through the first fringe of trees, Jerry found that he had stepped into a cultivated garden, laid out with paths of resilient, reddish-brown material as springy as rubber, which wound among beds of bright, weird blooms of grotesque forms and patterns, clumps of shrubbery, and shady groves of trees.

After walking for a distance of about a mile he reached the edge of the garden, bounded by a wall about fifty feet in height, which stretched in a gradual curve to the right and left, as far as he could see. It was constructed from immense blocks of translucent, amber-colored material, fitted together so cleverly that the seams were all but invisible. At regular intervals, curving stairways led up to the top of the wall, and he made his way to the nearest one.

A short climb brought him to the top of the wall, which was more than a hundred feet thick. He walked across it and peered over the edge, then drew back dizzily. He was looking down on the busy streets of an immense city, so far below him that the scurrying people and speeding vehicles looked like tiny insects. The wall on which he stood edged the roof of what was the largest building in sight, and the roof itself was covered by the garden through which he had just come. As far as he could see, there were other buildings formed from translucent blocks of various colors, taller by far than the mightiest skyscrapers on Earth, and all topped by roof-gardens.

From his point of vantage, Jerry now surveyed the garden through which he had just passed. He saw many scattered individuals at work, caring for the plants and harvesting the fruits-muscular, nut-brown men who were naked save for turban-like head-pieces, leather breech-clouts, and high boots with the tops rolled down below the knees.

Except for their strange apparel and the fact that their chests were, on an average, larger than those of Earthmen, they did not show any marked difference from terrestrial peoples. He descended to the garden once more and walked in the direction where he had last seen the nearest worker.

He had not gone far when he found himself face-to-face with a girl. She was slight, slender and white-skinned, with large brown eyes, raven-black hair, and an ethereal beauty of face and form. A fillet of woven gold links set with polished bits of lapis lazuli bound her glossy hair. A band of the same materials supported her small breast shields of beaten gold. And from a belt of gold links powdered with amethysts, depended a tight cincture of shimmering peacock blue fabric with a texture like that of satin.

Though Jerry was merely startled at this sudden meeting, he saw by the look in her eyes that the girl was frightened. She half-turned as if about to flee but evidently reconsidered, and once more faced him resolutely.

Resolving to try to calm her fears, he said, "Good morning."

Then he smiled, and started what was meant to be a step in her direction. But the result, instead of a mere forward step, was something in the nature of a leap which landed him not two feet in front of her.

The effect of this performance on the girl was instantaneous. Before he had recovered his equilibrium, she screamed and shrank back.

Scarcely had he regained his balance, when Jerry's attention was attracted by a new sound-a terrific roar which came from a huge beast that was bounding toward them along the path. With a yawning, tooth-filled mouth as large as that of an alligator, a furry black body fully as big as that of a lion, short legs, and a hairless, leathery tail, paddle-shaped and edged with sharp spines, the oncoming monster certainly looked formidable.

Jerry thought and acted swiftly. His first duty was to get the girl out of the path of the charging monster.

Gripping his rifle in his left hand, he bent and encircled her slender waist with his right arm. Then he leaped to one side, just in time to avoid those gaping jaws. But the spring he male carried him clear over the hedge, and into a carefully-tended bed of tiny flowering plants.

For the first time since he had landed on Mars, he realized the tremendous advantage of his Earth-trained muscles. The short-legged beast, unable to leap over the hedge, was crashing through it. So he turned, and still carrying the girl beneath his arm, bounded away with tremendous leaps.

The slender form of the girl was feather-light, and impeded him scarcely at all. On Earth she would have weighed about ninety pounds; on Mars she weighed about thirty-four.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw that although he had a good start on the beast, it was following him with a speed that was amazing in a creature with such short legs. Soon the stairway loomed before him, and he bounded up it, five steps at a time. As soon as he reached the top of the wall he put the girl down and turned to face their pursuer, which had meantime reached the steps.

Snapping his gun to his shoulder, he took careful aim between the blazing green eyes, and fired. Without a sound or a quiver, the beast sank down on the steps.

At the sound of the shot the girl had sprung erect. For a moment she peered down at the fallen beast. Then, her eyes flashing like those of an enraged tigress, she turned on Jerry with a volley of words that were unmistakably scornful and scathing.

Suddenly her hand flashed to her belt and came up with a jewel-hilted dagger. Jerry noticed that the blade was straight and double-edged, with tiny, razor-sharp teeth. For a moment he did not realize what she intended doing; but when she raised her weapon on aloft and lunged straight for his breast, he caught her wrist just in time.

As he stood there holding her wrist to keep her from reaching him with that murderous blade, he became aware that men were coming through the garden, converging on them from all directions and scrambling up the stairways. These brown-skinned men, whom he had previously seen working as gardeners, were all armed with saw-edged, straight-bladed swords and daggers, and heavy maces with disk-shaped heads.

There was no chance to escape, so he stood his ground, still clutching the struggling girl's slim wrist with one hand, and leaning on his rifle with the other.

Suddenly the girl wrenched her wrist from his grasp, and sprang nimbly away from him. And in a moment he was surrounded by a circle of menacing, saw-edged sword blades.

CHAPTER IV

As HE stood there, ringed by hostile swordsmen, Jerry thought rapidly. Obviously, the brown men understood that his rifle was a dangerous weapon, for they were approaching him cautiously. Accordingly, he bent and laid it at his feet. Then he unstrapped his other weapons piled them on top of it, and raised his hands above his head in token of surrender.

Instantly two men leaped in and took possession of the weapons. A third cast a loop of tough, flexible leather around his wrists and drew it taut.

The girl spoke to one of the men, evidently an officer, who saluted her by holding both hands before his eyes, and issued a sharp command to the others. Then she turned and descended the steps to where the dead beast lay. As his captors dragged him after her, Jerry was surprised to see her stoop and throw her arms around the great shaggy neck. When she arose, tears were trickling down her cheeks.

She led the way through the garden. Behind her, walking at a respectful distance, was the officer; following him was the man who held the thong which bound Jerry's arms. On each side of the Earthman strode a brown warrior, sword in hand, and behind him walked two more, bearing his arms and equipment. The others dispersed.

They followed a path of the resilient brown paving material which presently led to the mouth of a tunnel which yawned from one side of a tree-covered mound. At either side of the tunnel mouth stood a white-skinned guard, who in addition to sword, dagger and mace, was armed with a sheaf of wicked-looking multi-barbed javelins.

At sight of the girl, these guards saluted respectfully. Then one hurried into the tunnel and emerged a moment later, followed by a vehicle which made Jerry gasp in astonishment. It moved smoothly and silently on six pairs of jointed metal legs shod with balls of resilient reddish-brown material like that used in paving. In lieu of seats, it supported twelve saddles, set three in a row. And in the foremost row, at the extreme right, sat the driver, who manipulated the multiped conveyance by means of two vertical levers, on either side of his saddle.

The girl climbed into a saddle beside the driver, and Jerry was placed in the central saddle of the next row, a guard on each side of him. The man who held the thong that bound his wrists, and the two who bore his equipment, seated themselves in the next row. The vehicle started as the driver pushed the two levers forward.

The tunnel which they entered led downward in a steep spiral. It was lighted by small globes filled with a thick, luminous liquid which he later learned was derived from a radioactive substance called baridium. They were suspended on short chains from the ceiling, and shed a mellow, amber light. Swiftly they sped down that spiral ramp, and Jerry caught flashes of small level platforms at regular intervals, leading to arched doorways. Presently, the vehicle slowed down and came to a sliding stop before one of them.

The girl sprang out onto the platform, and Jerry was dragged after her by his captors. She led the way to a tremendous arched door before which stood a score of armed and uniformed guards. These guards were white. They saluted respectfully, and parted their ranks to let the party pass.

The splendor of the room they now entered left Jerry spellbound with awe. It was a tremendous circular audience chamber, at least a thousand feet in diameter, and as high as it was wide. Its ceiling of burnished gold was supported by huge pillars, fifty feet in diameter, each seemingly cut from a single piece of pale blue crystal.

The floor was of hexagonal, orange colored crystal blocks, between the interstices of which molten silver had been poured, and the whole polished to a mirror-like luster. Suspended from the ceiling on thick golden chains, and hanging about two hundred feet above the floor, were huge light globes, twenty feet in diameter, filled with the luminous liquid he had previously observed.

At spaced intervals around the circular wall, uniformed guards stood, leaning on their tall spears.

In the center of the room, toward which they were walking, stood a circular dais, consisting of three disks placed concentrically one above the other. The top disk was of blue crystal, the middle one of orange crystal, and the bottom one of black.

Suspended above the center of the highest disk, on four thick golden cables, was a massive golden throne, upholstered in blue. And on this throne, Jerry saw a big man, with handsome, regal features that were as expressionless as stone. His thick, iron-gray beard had been braided into five long plaits which hung down to his wide golden belt, in which a thousand jewels sparkled. His arms and torso were bare, save for his jeweled golden armlets and wrist-guards, and a gem-encrusted medallion which hung on his chest. A close-fitting casque of burnished gold was on his head, and a single huge gem blazed above his forehead with a blue-white light.

Two young white men wearing blue, one a blond and the other a brunet, stood on the top disk at either side of the throne. Below these, on the orange disk, stood a tall, broad-shouldered fellow with nut-brown skin, his clothing orange trimmed with blue, and a girl slightly lighter colored, who likewise wore orange and blue. Jerry saw that she was slight, slender and beautiful.

On the lowest disk were a score of white-skinned men and women who wore orange trimmed in black. And surrounding the disks were at least a thousand more who exhibited a variety of colors, though the majority of them wore black. But every one, other than the warriors from the garden who had captured the Earthman, and the man and girl who stood on the middle disk, was white-skinned.

Those who stood around the throne stepped aside and saluted respectfully as the girl came up with the guards and prisoner. But she ran swiftly up the steps and threw her arms about the monarch's neck, tears streaming from her eyes.

The big man picked her up as easily as if she had been a doll, and seated her on the wide throne beside him. For some time they conversed. From time to time she looked at Jerry as she talked, and he knew the conversation related to him.

Presently, in the midst of her story, the girl stepped down from the throne and took Jerry's rifle from one of the brown guards. She brought it to her shoulder, exactly as he had done, and he was alarmed to see her finger on the trigger.

"Wait!" he cried, and sprang forward, to snatch the rifle away from her. But at the moment the weapon went off. The girl was hurled backward by the unexpected recoil of the heavy rifle, and fell to the floor. The bullet struck one of the crystal pillars.

Instantly, pandemonium reigned. The girl was picked up by the monarch, who hastily sprang down from his throne as she fell. Then, still holding her feather weight in his arms, he issued a sharp command.

Jerry was astounded to see a circular section of the floor rising before the throne, supported by three stout pillars. When it had risen to a height of about twenty feet, another floor was disclosed beneath it. As this one came to rest, three huge black men stepped from it, carrying a large circular rug made from the resilient reddish-brown material. They spread this on the floor.

Then two of them seized Jerry and dragged him to the center of the rug, where they forced him to his knees. The third, who carried an enormous, two-edged sword in a sheath strapped to his back, drew the weapon and looked inquiringly at the monarch. The latter nodded.

CHAPTER V

HALF-STUNNED, Jerry waited for the executioner's keen blade to descend. But at that instant the blond, blue-clad youth who had stood beside the throne rushed up, sword in hand and struck aside the blade of the executioner.

A moment later, another man came running up-a white-haired man who wore orange and black; and on his beardless countenance was a look of calm benignity. He smiled encouragingly at Jerry, then turned and addressed the pokerfaced monarch. The latter issued an order to the two black giants at the Earthman's sides, whereupon they permitted him to arise.

In the meantime the girl in the monarch's arms revived, and he put her on the floor, where she joined in the discussion. Jerry noticed that there was considerable wonder written on her face, as the white-haired man talked to her and the ruler. Four others joined in the discussion the two young men in blue who had stood at either side of the throne, and the dark-skinned girl and man who had stood on the central dais.

Although he could not understand a word that was spoken, Jerry saw that this latter personage was urging his execution. The girl, however, evidently sided with the white-haired newcomer and the blond youth.

Presently, the ruler rumbled a curt order. The thongs were removed from Jerry's wrists, and the white-haired man after saluting the ruler, took the Earthman's arm and led him away.

"You are Dr. Morgan's nephew, are you not?" he asked in English.

"I am," gulped Jerry, "but how did you know? And who are you?"

"I am Lal Vak," was the reply. "I was unavoidably delayed. As I am a stranger in Raliad, and there is a revolt in the provinces, I was accused of being a spy. My arrest came this morning, and I had some difficulty in clearing myself of the charge, despite my credentials from the Vil of Xancibar. A stranger is usually accounted guilty until he is proven innocent."

While they talked, they threaded numerous passageways, and Jerry noticed that every one they met stared curiously at his army uniform.

Presently they came to a spiral runway, and Lal Vak, stepping out on the signal platform, pulled a cord which unhooded a large light globe overhead by drawing up the four quarters of its metal covering as the petals of a flower open. A moment later one of the vehicles skidded to a stop before the landing.

Then they climbed into the saddles, the scientist spoke a word to the driver, and they shot swiftly upward. After passing eight platforms, the vehicle came to a stop before the ninth, and they got out. Threading another hallway, they came at length to a large door which an attendant, on seeing Lal Vak, threw open for them.

They entered, and Jerry found himself in the central room of a large and luxurious apartment, lighted by a single circular window that extended from floor to ceiling, its crystal panes opening outward to admit the afternoon breeze. The furniture, consisting of chairs, divans, and a table, was legless, and suspended from the ceiling by flexible, silk-covered cables.

"Let us sit on the balcony and talk," said Lal Vak.

Jerry stepped through the window and followed Lal Vak out onto the balcony. He looked over the railing. Far below him was a broad street, thronged with darting multiped vehicles and scurrying people. Other balconies, he observed, jutted out above, below and around this one, and from the buildings across the street.

Seating himself on the bench beside the scientist he mechanically took out a cigarette and lit it. A look of astonishment crossed the features of Lal Vak.

"What's wrong?" asked Jerry.

"For a moment I thought you were on fire," replied Lal Vak. "I remember Dr. Morgan's telling me about this curious custom of Earth-people, but it startled me. Tell me, why do you do it?"

"Just a habit, I guess. But a habit I won't have very long," said Jerry, looking at his half-empty cigarette case, "as I don't suppose there is such a thing as tobacco on Mars. May as well quit now." He was about to toss the case ever the railing when Lal Vak caught his arm.

"Wait," he said. "Save those little white cylinders. They may prove valuable to you."

"How?" Jerry wanted to know.

"As evidence of your advent from another world. The Vil of Kalsivar suspects that you are an enemy spy, who arrived on the palace roof with an outlandish costume and strange weapons in order to deceive him in case of capture. It is thought that your purpose was to kidnap Junia, daughter of Numin Vil."

Jerry said, "Just a moment. Let me get this thing straight. I take it that Numin Vil is the ruler, who sat on the throne."

"That's right. He is what you might call, the Emperor of Kalsivar, mightiest nation of Mars."

"And that girl I rescued from the wild beast is his daughter?"

"She is. The Sovil, or Imperial Princess of Kalsivar. Unfortunately, you did not rescue her from a wild beast. It seems that you met her on the roof garden, and attempted to abduct her. Her favorite dalf came to her rescue, and you slew the beast with one of your strange weapons."

"What's that? You mean the creature I killed was a pet?"

"Not only was it a pet, but she loved it almost like a member of the family. She got that dalf when a cub, and raised it herself."

"Hm. Sort of watchdog, eh? I'll apologize to the lady, of course, and if possible, get her a new dalf."

"Apologize, yes, but don't mention a new dalf. She has many, but to speak of replacing this one would be almost equivalent to offering to replace her brother after you had slain him."

"I think I begin to understand."

"You certainly succeeded in getting into plenty of trouble, and you are far from out of it yet. With the assistance of Her Highness, Junia Sovil, I was able to get you a forty-day stay of execution, but at the end of that time you must stand trial. The Vil granted this clemency so you would have time to learn the language, and thus be able to speak in your own behalf, as well as to hear your accusers."

"What accusers?"

"I mean, in particular, Thoor Movil, Junia's cousin, who is head of the spy system of Kalsivar. He is the tall, dark-skinned fellow who wore orange trimmed with blue. Blue, on Mars, is the exclusive color of royalty. A Vil, or his descendants of unmixed royal blood, may wear it with gold. A noble, closely related to the royal family, may trim his orange garments with blue. Thoor Movil is the son of Numin Vil's younger brother."

"He appears to be of a different race," said Jerry.

"His mother was of the brown race," Lal Vak explained, "which is a mixture of the black and white races, according to our ethnologists. It is believed that Kalsivar was founded by a black race, which was later conquered by a white race, that intermarriage occurred for many generations, and the brown race resulted. A few of the blacks, however, retained their racial purity. Within historical times, about five thousand years ago, Kalsivar was reconquered by a white race which did not intermarry with the other two, and whose leader was the founder of the present dynasty."

"And this revolt you speak of. Who is fomenting it?"

"The origin of the leader is shrouded in mystery," replied Lal Vak. "For at least a thousand years there has been a prophecy among the brown people to the effect that a man of their own race, of the old royal blood, would arise to lead them to victory over their white rulers. Less than a year ago a stranger appeared among a large group of them, who had gone into the desert to perform religious rites as is their annual custom. This person wore a hideous mask, fashioned in the likeness of the chief of their ancient gods, Sarkis the Sun God, and claimed that he was the reincarnation of that god, returned to lead them to ultimate victory.

"Many fell down and worshiped him, remaining to form the nucleus of a rapidly growing army of outlaws, who raid our agricultural districts, and harass our shipping. Many punitive expeditions have been sent out against these outlaws, but they invariably break up into small bands which scatter over the trackless desert, to reform later at some unexpected point for fresh raids. Their mysterious leader has come to be known as Sarkis the Torturer.'

"Does this Sarkis constitute a menace to the present ruler of Kalsivar?"

"Decidedly," was Lal Vak's reply. "His ranks are being rapidly swelled by deserters from the imperial army. And the roving desert tribes, many of which are of the brown race, have unanimously espoused his cause."

At this moment a brown-skinned slave appeared in the window opening and spoke with Lal Vak. Then the latter turned to Jerry. "I doubt not that you are hungry, and our regular time for eating has arrived. Let us go inside."

They went in and sat down on one of the swinging divans. The slave brought a large bowl, mounted on a tripod, which he set before them. The bowl was divided into six segments, and in each segment reposed a different kind of food. Mounted on a single shaft in the center of the bowl was a small, circular disk, on which stood a flask and two cubical cups, all of gold, exquisitely carved and set with sparkling jewels.

The servant poured a steaming liquid into the cups. It was pink in color, and gave off a fragrant aroma.

Lal Vak took up a cup and extended it to Jerry. "I believe you will find it easy to like our favorite Martian drink, though you may find it difficult to accustom yourself to some of our foods."

"What is it?"

"We call it pulcho," Lal Vak replied. "Taken in moderate quantities it is a pleasant stimulant. When drunk excessively, it is intoxicating."

The Earthman took a sip, and found it as the scientist had said, both pleasing and stimulating.

The brown-skinned servant hastened forward to refill his cup, and the Earthman noticed that he took it up in such a way that for a moment the palm of his hand was held over it.

The man handed him the brimming cup, but before he could raise it to his lips, Lal Vak snatched it from him. Springing to his feet, he whipped out his dagger and presented its point to the breast of the servant, addressing a few sharp words to him.

With a trembling hand, the fellow took the cup and drained its contents at a single gulp. A dull, glazed look came to his eyes. He slumped to the floor, then lay still.

"I thought I saw him drop something into your cup," said Lal Vak, "but I wanted to make sure. As you see, I was right."

"You mean that the fellow tried to poison me?"

"Precisely," Lal Vak replied. "He is only a tool, of course. You have an enemy in Raliad, it seems, and one who occupies a high place."

"But who could it have been?"

"That is what we will try to find out-later," the scientist told him, turning toward the door. "I go now to call the guard. Under the circumstances, we had best keep our own council. I beg you, for your own good to remember, after I have taught you our language, that this impudent fellow had the bad taste to commit suicide in our presence."

CHAPTER VI

STUDYING assiduously under the efficient tutelage of Lal Vak, Jerry rapidly learned to read and write the Martian language.

The scientist also instructed him in Martian manners and customs, and described to him the immense city without.

"Raliad," Lal Vak told him, "is truthfully called the 'City of a Million Gardens.' Here every house, from the imperial palace down to the lowliest hovel, has its roof garden. It is so immense that, within its confines live more people than make up the entire nation of Xancibar, whence I come. Its resident population is well over a hundred million, and its floating population daily numbers at least twenty-five million more. More canals verge here than in any other six cities on the planet, and the canals are the main arteries of travel and commerce."

Some five days before the date set for his trial, Jerry was enjoying his evening meal in company with Lal Vak, when the latter told him:

"I have arranged a surprise for you. Her Imperial Highness, the Sovil, when I told her that you had mastered our language, and that you had a petition for her ears, graciously consented to grant you an interview."

"Great! When do we start?"

"Patience, and finish your meal," smiled Lal Vak. "We have plenty of time. A guard will be sent for you at the appointed hour, for you are still a prisoner, you know. To show proper respect for her highness, I think we had best dress you for the audience."

"This Army uniform is getting rather seedy looking," said Jerry.

"On Mars we dress according to our stations in life. I understand that you are of noble blood."

"On the contrary," Jerry replied, "there are no nobles in the nation from which I came. We have our great men-our leaders in finance, in war, in science, and in the arts-but no nobility."

"That I know. Yet Dr. Morgan told me he was descended from the nobility of another nation-Ireland, I believe he called it. This will entitle you to wear orange, trimmed with black, on Mars."

"True. I had forgotten that my first American ancestor was an Irish viscount. But he renounced his title, so that lets me out."

"It doesn't change the blood:"

"That's true, but I think I'll be loyal to his ideas, just the same."

"Then you will have to wear the plain black of a commoner."

Lal Vak summoned a servant, and ordered that a suit of commoner's clothes be brought. Some time later, Jerry surveyed himself in the burnished gold mirror. He wore a cincture of glossy black velvet, which left his legs bare. On his feet were black boots of soft leather.

There was a broad belt of woven silver links about his waist, from which depended an empty sword scabbard on his left, and a dagger sheath on his right. The weapons had been removed because of his status as a prisoner. His arms and torso were bare, save for a pair of silver wrist guards, a pair of armlets of the same metal, and a medallion which depended from around his neck. On his head was a black turban, held in place by a band and chin strap of finely woven silver links. This turban was made of a tenuous but extremely strong and wind-proof material, which could be unbound and dropped about his shoulders to form a cloak that would reach to his knees.

A few moments later the guard flung open the door and a page entered.

"Her Imperial Highness, Junia, Sovil of Kalsivar, commands the presence of Lal Vak and Jerry Morgan."

They returned his salute, and followed him out into the hallway, where two armed guards fell in behind them.

The page led them to the nearest runway, where they took a multiped vehicle to the second floor above them. Here they walked back along an almost identical hallway, and Jerry realized, as they paused before a blue-curtained door guarded by two warriors, that Junia's apartment was directly above his own.

The page went in first, to announce them, then returned and bade them enter. In a large, magnificently furnished room, Junia reclined on a swinging divan of blue plush, surrounded by a bevy of her ladies.

As Jerry stood before her and rendered the royal salute by holding both hands before his eyes, he caught his breath at sight of her loveliness.

"I shield my eyes in the glory of your highness's presence," he said.

She returned the salute by raising one slender hand before her eyes-the salute rendered to those of other than royal blood. Then she turned to Lal Vak.

"You have made a mistake, I believe," she said. "This afternoon you requested an audience for a nobleman from another world, and I granted it. Now you bring a commoner before me-an affront which even the Zovil, my brother, would not have dared."

"I can explain in a few words, your highness," said Lal Vak. "Jerry Morgan's noble ancestor renounced his title. Though nothing can rob him of his noble blood, he hails from a country where there are no titles, and so prefers to appear as a commoner."

"It is a churlish preference I should expect in him, after his actions when first we met. It seems he would add insult to injury."

Lal Vak was about to reply, but Jerry forestalled him.

"I fear your highness misapprehends my intentions. Since I came to apologize for those same blundering acts of mine, I wore the black of a commoner in token of humility."

"Why, this is better," she said, with a faint smile. "I had not expected so quick a wit in one whose blunders have been so lamentable."

"It is charitable of you to allow them to pass as blunders."

"Had I not accounted them so, you would not have been granted this interview," said Junia.

"You lead me to hope that the forgiveness for which I have come to sue will be granted."

"It is already granted."

"I am profoundly grateful," he said with almost undue eagerness.

She said no more, but her brown eyes dropped, and a slow blush suffused the lovely features.

For a moment Jerry stood thus, unconscious of everything about him save the allure of this maiden. Then Lal Vak touched his arm, and the spell was broken.

"Come," he said softly. "The interview is ended."

As one in a daze, Jerry saluted and withdrew, accompanied by the scientist and followed by the two guards.

Lal Vak speaking English so the two guards who followed would not understand, said, "I saw that look which passed between you two. If you would live, even to the day of the trial, you must never attempt to see her again; never let any one know the depth of feeling which you have betrayed and to which she involuntarily responded this evening.

"To know that I should never see her again would be to lose all zest for life. But why do you say I must put her from my mind?"

"Because to do otherwise will be to align yourself against forces that can only compass your destruction. Already you have made one powerful enemy, whose name I believe I can guess. And now, would you align Manith Zovil, your friend and protector, and even the Vil himself against you?"

At this moment they entered their apartment, and the two guards took up their positions before the door.

"As I have previously told you," Lal Vak went on, "Manith is the Zovil of Nunt, one of the major powers of Mars with which Kalsivar is on friendly terms. He was sent here by his father, Lom Harr, Vil of Nunt, for the express purpose of courting Junia Sovil. And I have been given to understand that the two young people are not at all averse to the idea."

"That does put me in an awkward position. I can't prose cute my own interests without interfering with those of my friend and benefactor."

"Precisely. And although we have not definitely discovered the identity of your secret enemy, I believe that he will come out into the open very shortly. Strangely enough, what he believes to be his own interests, are opposed to those of Manith Zovil, as well as to your recently awakened desires."

"And his name?"

"Thoor Movil, whose father was the Vil's brother, but whose mother was a sovil of the ancient royal family of the brown race. He urged your instant execution on the day Manith saved you. There are but two people between him and succession to the throne of Kalsivar-Shiev Zovil, Junia's brother, and Junia herself. If he could accomplish the death of one and marry the other, his succession would be assured, save for one thing-that no man of the brown race has occupied that throne since the conquest by the white race, five thousand years ago. However, it appears that Sarkis the Torturer is the tool of Thoor Movil, as he demands, that Kalsivar shall be ruled by a man of the ancient brown royalty.

"The entire plot is clear enough to me, but Numin Vil would not believe me. And Thoor Movil would quickly set his assassins on my trail if the Vil should fail to act against me."

"And just where do I fit in?"

"I have tried to make it plain," said Lal Vak, "that Thoor Movil is both fearless and unscrupulous. What, then, would happen to you if you were to reveal your true feelings toward Junia, and such revelation were to come to his ears? He would treat you as a pestiferous insect which one crushes beneath his foot."

At this instant one of the guards at the door drew back a curtain and announced: "A messenger from His Highness, Thoor Movil."

Lal Vak paled beneath his coat of tan. "It has come, and sooner than I expected," he told Jerry in English. Then he spoke to the guard in the Martian tongue: "Admit him."

A brown-skinned page entered.

"His Highness, Thoor Movil, is entertaining His Imperial Highness, Shiev Zovil, at gapun," announced the page, "and commands the attendance of Lal Vak and Jerry Morgan."

"Await us outside while we make ready," Lal Vak told the page. The latter stepped out beyond the curtains, and the scientist spoke in English: "Let me warn you, my son, that Thoor Movil bids you to a more dangerous game than that of gapun. You will best be able to defeat him by being scrupulously careful to offend no one, and by passing unnoticed any insults save only those which may amount to an actual challenge, and which no Martian gentleman may ignore and retain his honor."

CHAPTER VII

As HE and Lal Vak followed the page into Thoor Movil's large and luxurious apartments, Jerry saw that the party was a small and select one, consisting of about twenty men. Three of them, Shiev Zovil, Manith Zovil and Thoor Movil, wore the blue of royalty. The others, with the exception of the Earthman, wore the orange of nobility.

Four gaming boards set on a large swinging table served the gapun players. These boards contained numbered holes, and the game consisted of rolling Martian money-small engraved pellets of gold silver, and platinum-into the holes, the first pellet into the highest numbered hole winning the entire stake from each roll.

Pulcho, which was being imbibed by the gamblers, was being poured by a dozen brown slaves.

As Jerry knew Thoor Movil for his enemy, he was surprised when the latter did them honor by rising to receive them. The brown prince found a place for Lal Vak first, then he turned to Jerry with a sarcastic smile, and said in the hearing of all the company: "You are our latest and most distinguished gambler, since you wear the darkest clothing of any one present."

Jerry returned his sarcastic smile with a cheery one. "That I am the latest is plain to be seen," he said, "but I protest that I am not the most distinguished. You do me too great an honor."

"How so?" asked Thoor Movil.

"It is your highness who is our most distinguished gambler, since you have the darkest skin of any present."

The two princes, Shiev and Manith, laughed uproariously and some of the nobles ventured to smile, but most of them looked exceedingly grave. And gravest of all was Lal Vak.

"Is it customary in your country for a guest to insult his host?" asked Thoor Movil, fingering his sword hilt.

"On the contrary," Jerry replied, "I should say that it is as great a rarity as for a host to insult his guest."

Thoor Movil's frown deepened, but Manith Zovil interposed. Taking Jerry's arm with one hand, and that of the brown prince with the other, he said, "Come. You two are delaying the game. Let us on with the play."

Before they could seat themselves, however, a tall, broad-shouldered player who wore the orange and black of the nobility, rose and said: "I, for one, do not care to play, so long as this commoner is present. His appearance is offensive enough, but his manners are a stench and an abomination to sensitive nostrils."

Jerry paused and regarded him coldly. "I have not the honor of your acquaintance."

At this, Lal Vak plucked at his arm, and said in English:

"Beware. This is the trap Thoor Movil has set for you. This man is the most dangerous swordsman in all Kalsivar."

"I am Arsad, Bad of Moor," said Jerry's new-found enemy. "You are standing in my way."

Recalling his preceptor's warning to avoid a quarrel at any cost, Jerry stepped aside.

But again the fellow turned and faced him. "Have I not said that you stand in my way?"

With this, Arsad struck the Earthman a sharp blow on the cheek with the back of his hand.

Jerry saw red, and he struck out straight from the shoulder, his fist landing full on the mouth of his adversary. Arsad stumbled backward and crashed across the gaming table, sending the gapun boards flying. For a moment he lay there as if dazed. Then he sprang up with a roar, spat out three teeth and a mouthful of blood, and whipped out his sword.

Jerry felt a jeweled hilt thrust into his hand, Manith Zovil, Crown Prince of Nunt, had again befriended him, this time by lending him his sword.

Swiftly Jerry came on guard parrying a thrust for his heart. He found his own return thrust parried with ease, and soon realized that he was up against a master swordsman. But Arsad must have come to recognize this at the same time, for he began to fence very cautiously.

Meanwhile, the spectators, who had formed a ring around the two contestants, were treated to such an exhibition of swordsmanship as they had not seen for many a day. For, though Arsad was known as one of the best swordsmen on Mars, Jerry had likewise been regarded one of the best swordsmen in the American Army.

Arsad had not exhausted all his tricks. And Jerry learned a new one just after he had parried a particularly long lunge to his body. For the Bad of Dhoor, in recovering, turned the edge of his saw-toothed blade against Jerry's side, and as he drew it back, cut a deep gash from which the blood spurted freely. It was a trick which could not have been performed with any but a saw-toothed Martian blade.

Clutching his side to stanch the flow of blood, the Earthman now took the offensive with such vigor that time and again his opponent was forced to give ground in order to save himself. Still Arsad remained unwounded.

But the Martian had, by this time, discovered that he was in danger of losing his life. Snatching his turban-like head-cloak from his head, he hurled it into Jerry's face, blinding him for an instant. Then he lunged.

Jerry's earthly muscles saved his life by a split second, as he leaped back a full ten feet. Then he brushed the blinding fabric aside and gave a fierce leap forward, sword out, straight at the charging Arsad. In sheer surprise the latter tripped and fell, an easy target for the Earthman's point.

But instead of administering the coup de grace, Jerry struck the sword from the hand of his tricky opponent, then presented his point to his breast.

"Wait! Would you kill an unarmed man?"

"Unless you yield!"

But Arsad sprang backward, and to one side; he seized the weapon which the Earthman had beaten from his hand, and coming up to catch Jerry with his blade low, slashed swiftly for his neck.

Jerry dived straight forward, under that whistling blade, at the same time extending his point. The sword of Arsad flashed harmlessly over his back, but his own plunged clear through the body of the Martian, projecting a full two feet from his back.

With a look of horrified unbelief on his face, the Rad of Dhoor dropped his sword and slumped to the floor.

Two surgeons, who had been sent for at the beginning of the duel, now came forward. One pronounced Arsad dead. The other dressed Jerry's wound by drawing it together and covering it with a thick gum called jembal which quickly hardened into a flexible, porous covering that was antiseptic, permitted drainage, and kept out infection. A slave took the bloody sword from Jerry's hand, cleansed it, and returned it to him.

His wound dressed, the Earthman returned the sword to the Zovil of Nunt. "For the second time I am indebted to your highness."

"A trifle," Manith Zovil replied. Then taking a cup of pulcho from a slave who waited nearby, he handed it to the Earthman. "Drink," he commanded. "It will help to restore your strength. You have lost much blood."

Jerry tossed off the beverage and felt refreshed. In the meantime, the body of Arsad had been taken away, and all traces of the duel removed by the slaves. The gapun boards were replaced on the table, and several of the nobles resumed their interrupted gaming, drinking and laughter as if nothing had happened.

Most boisterous of all was Shiev, Zovil of Kalsivar. The crown prince was a slight, spare youth, and something of a fop. That he had drunk overmuch pulcho was plainly evident.

"Come," he cried, beating on the board with a handful of platinum pieces. "Let us on with the game. I would see if this black-clad commoner can play gapun as well as he can fence."

"If it pleases your highness," said Jerry, "I should prefer not to play tonight. I have lost much blood, and feel the need of repose."

Shiev flushed. "You refuse the honor--refuse to play with the heir to the throne of Kalsivar? You are exceedingly impudent for a commoner."

"And you are exceedingly ungracious for a prince."

His words were like a bombshell in the room. The face of Shiev Zovil went deathly white. His hand flew to his sword hilt, but ere he could draw the weapon, Manith Zovil had interposed.

"Wait, Shiev," he said. "This man is from another world, and does not know our customs."

"Then he needs teaching."

"Not with the sword," Manith answered. "He has demonstrated that on the body of Kalsivar's greatest swordsman."

"Now, by the wrath of Deza!" exploded Shiev. "Are you intimating that I fear to fight this clumsy oaf? Have a care how you presume on our hospitality, or it may be that only your ashes will be back to Nunt."

"Do not presume too much on the fact that I have come to woo her highness, your sister. I am your royal equal, and my sword shall answer further insinuations from you."

At this, Shiev lurched drunkenly to his feet and whipped out his blade. Manith Zovil drew his own weapon, but to Jerry's surprise, Lal Vak stepped between them.

"Before you go on with this duel, highnesses," said the white-haired scientist, "I beg you to pause and consider the consequences. Many things are done in the heat of anger that bring regret when the blood cools. If you fight, one of you may be killed. You are both brave men and fearless, and this does not weigh with either of you. But no matter which one dies, there will be an immediate result-a war between Kalsivar and Nunt that will cost millions of lives and use up the resources of both nations."

At this, the nobles immediately sided with Lal Vak, and begged the two princes to sheathe their swords. Jerry, who had joined those attempting to cool the wrath of Manith Zovil, noticed there was one man in the room who held aloof from all this-as soon as he saw that the swords were to be sheathed, he added his voice to those of the others in crying for peace.

The two princes were brought to the point of saluting each other, though the eyes of both still flashed ominously. Then Manith Zovil saluted his dark-skinned host, thanked him for his hospitality, and took his departure. Jerry and Lal Vak did likewise, and came upon the prince as he waited for a multiped vehicle on, the signal platform.

"Again I have your highness to thank for interposing in my behalf," said Jerry. "Won't you join Lal Vak and me in our apartment for the rest of the evening?"

"Sorry, but I am going now to take leave of Numin Vil and quit this country," replied Manith. "Junia is glorious, worth fighting and dying for, but I am not of the stuff that can brook these constant insults from her popinjay brother.

"As for the obligation, my friend, there is none. I only did that which any man worthy of the name might do under similar circumstances. This is not the first time Shiev Zovil has insulted me, and I am convinced that it is because his cousin has poisoned his mind against me. Unfortunately, I can find no pretext for seeking a quarrel with Thoor."

At this moment, a multiped vehicle stopped at the platform. Manith Zovil bade Jerry and Lal Vak farewell when they reached their platform, and invited them to visit him in his own palace. He would be leaving, he said, as soon as he could pay his respects to Numin Vil.

When they arrived at their apartment, followed by Jerry's two guards, Lal Vak suggested that the Earthman retire immediately, as he would need rest after losing so much blood. As for himself, he was going to visit a friend in another part of the palace, and would probably return quite late.

The scientist gone, Jerry removed his headcloak, and was about to do the same with his other clothing, when a guard drew back the curtain and announced: "A page from Her Highness, Nisha Novil."

Jerry replaced his headpiece, and said: "Let him enter."

A brown-skinned page stepped into the room, saluted, and said: "Her Highness, Nisha Novil, commands the immediate presence of Jerry Morgan."

"Bear my excuses to her highness," replied Jerry. "Tell her that I am weakened from loss of blood-that I . . .

"This is a command, Jerry Morgan. There can be no excuses."

Jerry pondered for a moment, and heartily wished that Lal Vak was here to advise him what to do. Because Nisha Novil was the sister of Thoor Movil, he sensed a trap of some sort. Yet the page would accept no excuse-apparently had been so instructed.

He turned to the page, and said: "I am ready. Conduct me to her highness."

CHAPTER VIII

Tim roomy apartments of Nisha Novil were furnished with a splendor that was almost barbaric, and Nisha herself was the most ornate object of all. Lying on a swinging divan upholstered with alternate stripes of orange and blue plush, she shot a languishing smile at Jerry from beneath her long, curved lashes, as he was ushered in before her.

The only cloth upon her shapely body was a silken cincture of orange trimmed with blue. Her small breast-shields were of blue and amber beads. By any standard she was undeniably beautiful.

With a wave of her hand she dismissed the page. Then she spoke, her voice low, with a purring quality, like that of a kitten that is being stroked.

"You are prompt, Jerry Morgan, but why have you brought the bodyguard? Were you afraid I might injure you? As you see, I am unarmed."

"Your highness forgets that I am a prisoner under suspended sentence of death. The guards . . .

"Yes, to be sure. I had forgotten." She addressed the two. "My slaves will give you pulcho in another room. Wait there until I send for you. I will be responsible for your prisoner."

With respectful salutations, the two guards followed a brown slave-girl through a curtained doorway. Then Nisha waved a slim hand, and the other slave-girls who stood in attendance behind her filed out of the room. As soon as they were alone, the princess rose with feline grace, and stood before Jerry, smiling up at him beneath languorous lids. She was no bigger than Junia, and much like her in appearance. Yet there was something about her, an untamed feral something in her every look and gesture.

"Come," she said, taking Jerry's hand and leading him to the divan. "You must be weary after your dual with Arsad. Come and rest here beside me while we talk."

"I did lose some blood," Jerry replied. "That was why I was about to ask your highness's indulgence. . ."

"But since I am dispensing with formality," she cooed, drawing him down upon the divan, "you may rest here as well as in your own apartment. And what I have to say cannot wait, for there are those who plot against your life, and I would save you. Tomorrow will be too late."

"Your highness is most generous to take an interest in my life."

She snuggled against him. "On the contrary, I am most selfish. From the very day when I first saw you, standing before the throne of Numin Vil, I have desired you.

"I heard of the suicide of the slave in your apartment, but did not grasp the significance at the time. However, when I learned of your duel with Arsad today, I knew that you had done something to displease my brother, and that where Arsad failed, another of Thoor's tools would eventually succeed. So I had a talk with my brother."

"I don't know what I ever did to him," said Jerry, "except that I turned one of his own sarcastic remarks against him, this evening."

"That had some weight, but it is not the true reason for his bitterness against you," she told him. "It began when our cousin, Junia, begged your life from Numin Vil after you had slain her dalf. I may add that those of whom Thoor becomes jealous never survive long."

"It seems that I have been exceedingly fortunate, then."

"Your skill with the sword saved you tonight," she answered, "but other means of compassing your death have already been planned. Thoor Movil's spies are everywhere, and when he heard of the look which Junia gave you in her apartment today, you were marked for death.

"And just what can you do about all this?" Jerry asked.

"Everything," she replied. I have made a pact with my brother. Your life is to be spared to me on condition that you never again cast your eyes toward our fair cousin."

"So you have arranged the whole thing between you. Thoughtful of your highness. But did it not occur to you that I might have some ideas of my own on the subject?"

To his surprise, she flung her arms around his neck-pressed her warm lips to his.

Had he never seen Junia, it is quite possible that the Earthman might have capitulated. Gently he disengaged the clinging arms from around his neck, and arose.

Nisha fell back on the divan, panting. Then she sprang straight for the Earthman. Screeching curses, she beat upon his breast, scratched his bare flesh until the blood welled forth. And through it all he stood immobile, hands at his sides, teeth clenched in a grim smile.

Her fit of fury passed almost as suddenly as it had begun. With horror in her eyes, she stood limply before him.

"Deza help me!" she moaned. "What have I done?"

"Have I your highness's leave to go?" he asked, with studied calm.

"No, wait! You must not leave me thus!"

She turned and ran into another room, reappearing a moment later with a basin of water, a handful of soft moss, and a bottle of jembal. Jerry stood like a statue while she washed away the blood and applied the healing gum to the scratches she had inflicted. Her ministrations finished, she looked up at him, tears swimming in her large black eyes and pearling the long lashes.

"Forgive me, my dear lord," she begged, contritely. "Strike me! Break me with those strong hands of yours! But do not leave me with anger in your heart. Only say that you forgive me, and Deza will grant me strength to go on, knowing that I may some day win your love."

"It is I who should ask forgiveness," Jerry told her, "since you have only wounded my body. But I, it seems, have unwittingly wounded your heart."

"You are generous, my lord," she cried, and flinging her arms around his neck, crushed her lips to his. "Now go. But remember-Nisha loves you, and will be waiting."

Without a word, he turned and left the room. He had taken the multiped vehicle to his own floor, the one below, before he noticed that his two guards were not following him. But he reasoned that they knew the way to his apartment as well as he.

Passing into the apartment, he hooded all the baridium light globes but one, preparatory to retiring. But, strangely enough, he no longer felt tired or sleepy. Feeling that a breath of air would do him good, he pushed open the two lower segments of the window, and stepped out onto the balcony. The night was unusually cold, even for Mars at that season.

Jerry threw back his head and inhaled a great lungful of the cold, sweet air. But he checked the inhalation with a gasp of amazement, for he saw, looking down from the second balcony above him, the lovely face of Junia. As she stood there, wrapped in her light, soft furs, he wished that he might bridge the gap between them.

She smiled, and Jerry returned her smile. Then she turned away and he saw her no more. But a plan had come to him. He could bridge that gap, with the aid of his Earthly muscles. Less than eight feet above his head hung the tough coils of the vine which decked Nisha's balcony. And he could see, by craning his neck outward, that the vines on Junia's balcony hung even lower.

A few moments later, he stood on Nisha's balcony. Fortunately for his plan, the vines on Junia's balcony hung lower, and he was able to reach the lower most of these by a vertical jump, thus avoiding the necessity of running past the window.

The loop held and he easily made the balcony above. Like the other two, it was edged with potted plants, and at first he did not notice the figure standing at the opposite end in the shadow of an aromatic sebolis. But as he crept over the railing, he noticed a slight movement in the shadow, and his heart leaped to his throat. Could this be a guard-and he unarmed?

Jerry was unable to more than make out a muffled form standing immobile before him. Silently, he crept forward, and as silently sprang, flinging one hand about the arms and body of the figure and clapping his left hand over the mouth.

To his astonishment, he found that he clasped a woman. A muffled scream came from the girl as he dragged her out into the full light of the nearer moon.

"Junia!" he exclaimed, releasing her and standing shamefaced before her. "I thought you were a guard."

"Just what are you doing on my balcony?" she asked. "And why would you have attacked a guard of mine?"

"I had to see you. There was no other way to see you alone. Oh, Junia, it seems that I am doomed to blunder each time I approach you-that the fates have conspired to make you hate me."

"I-I don't believe I could ever bring myself to hate you, Jerry Morgan," she said softly. "But you are so clumsy. One scarcely knows what to do with you or how to restrain you."

As she stood there looking up at him in the moonlight, Jerry reflected that this girl could do more to him with her eyes alone than could Nisha with her arms and lips-with her whole body.

"You have said that you had to see me," she told him presently. "Why?"

"Because I love you."

"You are bold to approach me thus, and bolder still to make such a declaration," she said. But there was no hint of anger in her eyes.

"You are right, highness," he said dejectedly, "With your leave I will depart, and never trouble you more."

But as he turned away, she laid her hand on his arm. "Wait, Jerry Morgan," she said. "What if I were to tell you that I also care?"

"Junia! You can't mean id"

"But I do, Jerry Morgan."

Gently, reverently, he took the tiny, fur-clad form in his arms. She raised her lips.

A moment they stood thus-a moment during which, for Jerry, all time stood still. Then she drew away.

"You must leave me, now. It grows late, and we may be discovered." There was a catch in her voice that sounded like a stifled sob, as she added: "May Deza keep you safe, and bring you back to me, unharmed."

Then she stepped into the darkness of her apartment.

For a moment Jerry stood there looking after her. Then he lowered himself over the railing, went down the vines hand over hand.

He found the apartment deserted, just as he had left it. Going to the door, he parted the curtains to see if his two guards had returned. They had not, and he was about to turn back when a man wearing the blue of royalty suddenly came running around a bend in the hall toward him. With a start of surprise, he recognized Manith Zovil. The Prince of Nunt carried a bloody sword in his hand, and blood was trickling from a wound on his breast.

Springing forward, Jerry caught him and helped him inside.

"What has happened, highness?" he asked. "Were you attacked?"

"Attacked, yes!" panted Manith. "I have just slain that drunken fool, Shiev Zovil. For the love of Deza, help me get rid of this blood, or my life will be forfeit, and there will be a war more vast and deadly than Mars has ever seen before!"

CHAPTER IX

WITH water and a handful of moss, Jerry cleansed the wound of Manith Zovil. Then he closed it with jembal. As it was only an inch in width and centrally located, the Prince of Nunt was able to hide it completely with the heavy medallion which hung on his chest.

Having cleansed his benefactor's sword and returned it to his sheath, Jerry mopped up several drops of blood from the floor, then went out onto the balcony and flung the telltale moss over the railing, and far out to his left, so no one below could accurately judge from which balcony it had fallen.

This done, he returned to where Manith sat panting on a divan, and poured him a cup of pulcho.

"Drink this, and try to compose yourself, highness. There is no cause for alarm, now. You and your weapons are free of blood, and your wound is dressed and concealed. Rather a bad one, too. A little more to the left, and you would not be alive."

Manith tossed off the drink and put down the cup.

"You are right, my friend," he said. "I met the drunken popinjay in the hallway. He was carrying his sword in his hand, and evidently bound for your apartment. As soon as I came near him, he lunged at me without a word of warning, and before I had a chance to so much as grasp my hilt.

"As you see, his design failed. Having dodged away that treacherous stroke, I drew my own sword and thrust him through the throat with as little compunction as if he had been a dalf."

"And you are sure he is dead?"

"If not, he soon will be."

"But why should any blame attach to you? You killed him in a fair fight, after an unprovoked assault."

"Because there were no witnesses. A duel with witnesses is legal; without them, is it murder."

"Did you meet anyone in the hallway before or after the duel?"

"No one."

"Then you are safe. Only you and I know what occurred, and I pledge you my word that I will never tell."

"I believe you, for though you wear the black of a commoner, you are a gentleman."

"And now," continued Jerry, "the best thing for you to do is to go on as if nothing had happened. You have taken your leave of the Vil, and were about to depart for your own country. I suggest that you go on, unhurriedly, as planned."

"In that case there should be no suspicion..."

He halted his speech suddenly, as the tramp of feet and the clank of weapons sounded without. Then rising, he seized the pulcho flask, and filling two cups, handed one to Manith and took up the other. Behind him, he heard the steps of men entering the chamber, but disregarding it, held the cup aloft, and said: "A safe and pleasant journey to you."

A sword flashed out from behind him, striking the cup from his hand and spilling the contents on the legs of Manith Zovil. Turning, he looked into the glittering eyes of Thoor Movil. Behind the brown prince stood a dozen warriors, swords in their hands.

Jerry forced himself to smile at his enemy. "Rather a boisterous way to announce your visit, highness," he said, picking up the cup, "but you are welcome, nevertheless. Manith Zovil and I were just drinking to his safe and pleasant journey. Won't you and your men join us?"

"It comports with your every action since you first came to Kalsivar, that you should choose to be facetious at a time like this."

"Since your highness chose to be playful, I merely fell in with your mood," Jerry replied, still smiling. "Courtesy to a guest, you know."

"But I am not playful, as you will learn soon enough. I am in deadly earnest. Where are your guards?"

"How should I know?" Jerry replied. "They were set to guard me, not I, them."

"What were you doing in the hallway a few moments ago?"

"Nothing. I have been in my apartment for some little time. Manith Zovil and I have been sitting here chatting. He is leaving for Nunt, you know, and dropped in to say farewell."

Thoor turned to the visiting prince.

"Did you notice anything unusual in the hallway when you came here?"

"Nothing," Manith replied. "Why?"

"Because Shiev Zovil has just been murdered there."

"Why, that's ghastly," said Manith. "I must tender my condolences to the prince's father and sister. Who do you think did it?"

"I believe," said Thoor Movil, "that the spy who occupies this apartment is the one who committed the crime."

"That would be impossible," said Manith. "He could not commit a murder and sit here talking to me at the same time. And I believe you do him an injustice in calling him a spy."

"How was the prince slain?" Jerry asked.

"Stabbed through the throat, as you well know," replied Thoor Movil.

"Perhaps you have not noticed that I am without weapons."

"True. But you may have a sword concealed about the apartment."

"I invite you to search it."

"We will do that without your invitation. Ho, men, see if you can find the weapon for me."

The soldiers went to work peering behind all movable objects and ripping upholstery, but the search was futile.

"Just as a matter of form," said Thoor Movil to Manith Zovil, "may I look at the blades of your sword and dagger? I do not suspect you, of course, but I must be thorough in the line of my duty."

"I understand perfectly," Manith replied, and tendered his weapons.

Thoor Movil examined the sword minutely, and returned it without comment, gave the dagger a cursory glance, and handed it back, also.

"They are clean, and your highness is absolved," he said. "But there is something suspicious about your friend, here. I go now to make further search, but I will leave four men on guard. Would you care to go with me?"

"Of course," Manith Zovil replied. "I must go back to his majesty the Vil, at once, to offer my sympathy before I leave." He turned to Jerry. "Farewell, my friend. I am sure you are innocent, and that his highness, here, is sure to find the guilty one and clear you."

He departed with Thoor Movil, and Jerry heard the dark prince post guards outside. He sat down on the ripped and rumpled divan to think.

Unless he could find some way to escape from Kalsivar, Jerry reasoned that nothing could save him except the intervention of Nisha in his behalf. And he did not want to feel obligated to her.

There was one, however, in that vast nation, in whose good graces Jerry particularly wished to remain. He felt sure that, sooner or later, Thoor or his agents would go to Junia with insinuations regarding him. Best go to her himself, he thought, ahead of any one else.

Once more, Jerry went out on the balcony. It had become colder as it grew later. And the farther moon had risen in the east, while its nearer, swifter companion, hurtled forward from the west to meet it, the two making visibility much better than before.

He leaped up, caught the trailing vine, and pulled himself up to Nisha's balcony. But scarcely had his feet touched the floor when a heavy cloak was thrown over his head, strong arms pinioned his arms to his sides, and he was half carried, half dragged through the window. He kicked and struggled in an effort to free himself from his unseen assailants, but in vain. His hands and feet were swiftly and skillfully bound, and with the cloak still over his head, he was deposited on a divan.

Then something sharp pricked his side, and a gruff voice said: "If you know what is good for you, you will remain quiet."

CHAPTER X

JERRY succumbed to the inevitable and gave up his struggles. Then suddenly, to his surprise, he heard a throaty contralto voice that was strangely familiar-the voice of Nisha.

"Remove the cloak, Jeth," she said, "and cut his bonds. My brother's men have gone."

The cloak dragged from his head, Jerry blinked in the unaccustomed rays of alight globe which hung above him, and flexed his numb limbs. He was in a small chamber, evidently the dressing room of Thoor's sister.

A burly, brown-skinned guard stood beside him, and another stood watch at the door. Nisha, herself, was looking down at him.

"I hope my men have not injured you," she said solicitously. "They acted in the emergency, under my commands, in order to save your life. The emergency has passed, but you are still in great danger. However, if you are willing to do as I tell you, it may be that I will be able to save you."

"You have been most kind," Jerry told her. "What do you want me to do?"

"Thoor's men are searching the palace-in fact, the whole city-for you. I guessed that you would try to escape by way of the balcony, and set my two faithful men, here, to watch for you and bring you to me unharmed but incapable of attempting to escape. And it is well that I did so, because Thoor's soldiers came through my apartment a moment later and searched the balcony. By telling them I had not seen you, which was true enough, I prevented their searching this dressing room.

"I have planned an escape for you, but it will involve a complete change in your appearance."

Going to a dressing table nearby, she selected two small flasks which she handed to Jerry. "This," she said, indicating the first, "will dye your hair jet black. And this," pointing to the second, "will make your skin the same shade of brown as my guards'. I will go outside while they help you."

As soon as she departed, the two men assisted Jerry to strip from head to foot. Then one set about applying the black dye to his sandy hair, while the other painted his skin with the brown liquid. Gazing into the burnished gold mirror, Jerry was astounded at the transformation; he was, to all appearances, a racial brother of the two brown men.

One of them brought him a coarse gray breech clout and headcloak and a pair of gray boots-the clothing of a slave. Quickly donning these, he again surveyed himself in the mirror. He looked exactly like one of the thousands of browned-skinned slaves he had seen employed in the palace. A small blue and orange emblem, stitched to all of his garments, announced that they, and their wearer, were the property of Nisha Novil. After be had transferred the contents of the pouch attached to his former belt to the plain gray pouch he now wore, he was ready.

One of the guards went out and a moment later Nisha entered the room. She dismissed the other guard, and glanced at Jerry.

"Your disguise seems perfect," she said after a careful inspection. "Your name is now Gudo. As Gudo, the slave, you'll shortly be conducted hence in a band of fifty of my slaves, who go to work on the new canal that Numin Vil is building. Every slaveholder in Kalsivar is required to send one-tenth of his male slaves to work for one senil, or tenth of a Martian year, on the project. It fortunately happened that they were to leave tonight, to relieve the fifty who have been working there for the last senil, and who will return to my service."

"Your highness is most kind," said Jerry.

"At the end of the senil," she went on, "you will be returned to my country estate on the Corvid Canal. I will be waiting there for you, and together we will make plans for the future. Please understand that I am not pretending altruism or a disinterested friendship. I would rather see you dead than in the arms of another. You will have one senil in which to think it over."

She spoke so calmly that Jerry could scarcely believe this was the girl who had alternately caressed and clawed him a short time before. She handed him a full flask of the black dye, one of the brown stain, and a third which contained a clear liquid.

"You may find it necessary to change your disguise," she said. "A few drops of this liquid added to a basin of water will make a solution that will instantly restore your hair and skin to their natural color.

"In a moment more you must leave. You will be going into danger, perhaps to your death, though Deza knows I have done everything possible for your safety." She moved closer. "Can you-will you take me in your arms-hold me for just a moment? Let me feel your lips on mine just once-willingly? A senil is so long-and if fate should take you from me, there will be, at least, this memory."

"I can and will, Nisha," he replied, suiting his actions to his words. "I like your candor. You're a girl in a million. It is a pity that love is not a thing we can command like a slave, or call to heel like a dalf."

"I know," she replied. Then she turned and called the guards. When they entered she said: "You have your instructions, and will carry them out at once."

"Come, Gudo," said one, taking Jerry's arm.

"Goodby, highness," said Jerry.

"Farewell. I will always love you," she replied, with a look of longing in her eyes.

Then he passed out the door between the two warriors.

Jerry's conductors led him through a series of rooms and corridors into a large chamber, where an aggregation of gray-clad, brown-skinned slaves waited, guarded by a company of white warriors. A scribe took down his assumed name and the name of his owner, and he was herded in with the others.

They were kept standing there for some time, their ranks constantly swelled by newly arrived slaves. But presently Jerry noticed some sign of activity at the other end of the hall. Then he saw that a group of soldiers was painting a number on the foreheads of the slaves, with red pigment, and thrusting them, feet first, into a hole in the wall.

He was greatly puzzled by this at first, but presently his own turn came, and the riddle was solved. With the painted number still wet on his forehead, he was thrust into the dark hole. Instantly he shot downward at a steep angle, with a rapidly increasing acceleration, in an incredibly slippery tube about four feet in diameter.

At first he descended in a series of spirals, but presently this changed to a steep, straight incline. Then, gradually, this leveled out, slowly checking his momentum, until he presently shot out under the roof of a low shed, to land on a padded platform. Here two guards, waiting to receive him, glanced at the painted number on his forehead and turned him over to another guard, who conducted him to a place where a group of his fellows waited.

By the dim light of the farther moon-for the nearer, brighter luminary bad now set-he saw that they were on a dock which fronted a canal. Moored to the dock, directly in front of him, was a strange craft. It was long and low, arid roofed over in the manner of a whaleback steamer, but with blocks of translucent material through which the rays from its baridium globes shone forth. But the strangest thing about it was its propulsive mechanism, the visible part of which consisted of eight pairs of huge-jointed metal legs, each tipped with a webbed foot like that of a duck. Obviously the craft actually swam on the surface of the canal like a waterfowl.

He saw a demonstration of this a moment later when a similar boat passed, and was astounded at the smoothness and speed with which these mechanical legs could propel the craft over the water.

For some time he and his fellow slaves stood shivering on the dock. But presently they were herded aboard the vessel and into several large compartments, each of which was heated by a globular contrivance which stood in the middle of the floor.

As soon as they entered there was a rush to get near the heating globe, and those who succeeded lay down to sleep in its genial warmth. Jerry, wearied by his adventures and exertions and weakened by his wound, was glad to curl up against the outside wall and close his eyes.

CHAPTER XI

JERRY was awakened by a sharp kick in the ribs. A guard was standing over him. "It is time to eat, slave," he said gruffily.

Following the guard came a line of slaves bearing large trays of food and drink. The food consisted of a stew in which were combined fish, flesh and vegetables cut into small pieces and seasoned with a peppery condiment. The beverage was the omnipresent pulcho. Jerry ate his stew in the manner of his companions, by drinking the thin gravy and scooping up the rest with his fingers. Then he slowly sipped his cup of pulcho, and was ready with the others to hand cup and bowl back to the slaves who came to collect the dishes.

The heating globe had been turned off, but its place was more than taken by the sun, which was already halfway to the zenith.

Jerry arose and looked curiously out at the passing scenery. On one side of the canal he saw a wall, topped by small buildings at regular intervals, and patrolled by sentries. On the other side a series of broad terraces led downward to another canal, and another series progressed upward to a third. The terraces were covered with cultivated gardens and orchards, and dotted here and there with cylindrical buildings, evidently the dwellings of the Martian agriculturalists.

The purpose of these three canals in a single excavation was plain enough. The two upper and outer canals each watered the system of terraces below it. The total excavation was about fifteen miles in width. Each canal was approximately a mile in width, and each system of terraces six miles.

The canals were dotted with craft of various sizes and kinds. All of the larger boats were propelled, like the one on which he rode, by mechanical webbed feet, but some of the smaller ones had sails, and others were paddled like canoes.

The smaller craft seemed mostly to be engaged in the occupation of fishing, in which nets, lines and spears were all employed. And Jerry was startled to see some of the fishermen leave their boats, carrying their spears or nets with them, and walk on the surface of the water.

Presently, when he came near enough to one to observe how it was done, he saw that the fellow wore inflated, boat-shaped water shoes, on which he glided about with the ease of a skilled terrestrial ice skater.

The sun had reached the zenith when the canal on which they were traveling suddenly came to a junction with another. Jerry judged that they must be quite near the equator, and verified this by looking at his shadow, which had shortened to almost nothing. The junction of the triple canals was effected by connecting the two upper channels of each by means of four viaducts in the form of a square. These viaducts, each fifteen miles in length and a mile in width, were supported on tremendous arches high above the terraces and the two intersecting drainage canals.

The boat on which they rode turned to the left in the farthest transverse channel, and after skirting the wall for several miles drew up at a dock. The doors were flung open and the guards herded the slaves out onto the wharf, where they were turned over to a new group of guards who had evidently been waiting to receive them. Here an officer took the records and called the roll.

This done, they were marched through a tunnel in the thick wall. They came out on a rather fragile wooden platform, fully two miles above the ground. Directly below them was the waterless central channel of a great triple canal, still under construction.

As far as Jerry could see, this tremendous excavation stretched northward. He saw men at work on the terraces, evidently leveling them off and getting them into shape. But the excavating, at this point, had all been completed.

Supported and reinforced by thick steel cables, a causeway of the resilient red-brown material used in paving, slanted down from the platform to the bottom of the depression; on this some two-score multiped vehicles waited. Under the direction of the guards, the slaves mounted the saddles; when all were aboard, the vehicles scampered down the swaying, trembling causeway.

Despite the skill of its driver, the one in which Jerry rode would have been jounced off into the yawning abyss beneath had it not been for the cables which formed a protecting railing on either side. He heaved a sigh of relief when they were once more on solid footing. They were now in the dry bed of the central drainage canal, which was composed of solid rock, so smooth that it looked almost as if it had been planed. And here, the multiped vehicles gave an example of the speed of which they were capable. The banks of the canal, and the terraces with their busy workmen, literally hurtled past them.

Mile after mile of dry channel and barren terraces reeled past them with a monotonous sameness, until mid-afternoon. Then the vehicles suddenly slowed down and Jerry caught his first glimpse of the digging of a Martian canal.

At first he thought; he saw two lines of huge beasts converging from the center of the excavation in a huge, extended V, snapping and tearing at the wall of earth, rock and sand before them. But in a moment he saw that they were not beasts, but machines, with jointed metal legs and mighty steel jaws. These huge machines, each operated by a single slave mounted in a saddle on its back, bit and swallowed until they had filled their capacious interiors, then turned and climbed the banks to disappear over the tops, while others returned empty and voracious once more.

Interspersed among the machines at regular intervals were armed overseers, directing the work, each driving a small six-legged vehicle.

Behind the line of devouring metal beasts was another Tow with the same type of body and legs, but with shovel-shaped, under-slung lower jaws. These jaws created a terrific din as with sharp, rapid blows like those of trip hammers they planed off the jagged fragments. When filled, they, like the others, backed away from the line and climbed the slope to get rid of their loads, while other, empty machines scuttled in to take their places.

Some distance behind the scene of operations and pitched upon the newly planed terraces at either side of the central channel the work camp was situated. It consisted of about a thousand large, round portable dwellings with dome-shaped tops, made from furry pelts which would turn back the heat at night.

The vehicle in which Jerry rode turned and scrambled up the bank to the tent city at the right. It was followed by nine others. The remaining machines climbed the left bank.

They came to a halt in front of a tent, before which a man wearing the orange and black of nobility sat on a swinging divan. An officer handed him a sheaf of papers, which he conned for a few moments. Then he returned them and waved his hand.

Instantly, the guards ordered all the slaves out of the saddles. Then they were drawn up in squads and marched through the camp, up the side of the terrace to the very top. Here they crossed a temporary bridge, stretched on steel cables across the empty upper channel. There were four more similar bridges for the use of the digging machines, which swarmed across them in endless chains. They emptied their loads of rubble on the outer bank by the simple expedient of opening their metal mouths, lowering them, and tilting their bodies up at the rear. This done, they turned about and scampered back for more provender.

The Earthman and his companions were issued implements and put to work at once, reducing and leveling the piles of rubble regurgitated by the machines. The implement given Jerry was a heavy pole about eight feet in length with a thick iron disk on one end. This was used like a rake or hoe, to spread the material about. Then, with the shaft held perpendicularly, it was employed to tamp and pack the surface.

It was hard work, even for Jerry with his Earth-trained muscles. And he could realize how much more difficult it must be for the slaves around him. The sun's rays beat down relentlessly upon them, and the guards urged them on with spear points whenever they lagged.

Men who dropped from exhaustion and were unable to rise were kicked down the embankment, to be buried beneath the constantly growing deposit of rubble.

Jerry worked at the end of his squad, every member of which was a brown man. Next to him was a squad of white men, and one of them, a tremendous fellow over seven feet tall and muscled in proportion, was his nearest neighbor. This powerful giant made play of his work, laughing and chatting with guards and workmen alike. Presently he called out to Jerry:

"Ho, slave of Nisha Novil. At last you palace dalfs will have to do a man's work."

Jerry grinned back at him. "It must be that you like it, since you call it man's work."

"Not I," said the giant, "but because necessity compels..."

He paused in the midst of his speech and looked upward, a startled expression on his face. At the same instant a shadow darkened the sun above them. Then something struck Jerry behind the knees and he fell backward into a large net with metal meshes. The giant turned to flee, but the net caught him also, and he was swept back on top of the Earthman.

As the two men sought to disentangle themselves, the ground receded rapidly beneath them.

Looking up, Jerry saw that the net which held them hung from two chains which depended from both sides of a grotesque flying monster with membranous wings, a fur-covered body, long legs covered with yellow scales, and a flat, duck-like bill armed with sharp triangular teeth. The chains were fastened to the sides of a saddle of gray metal, on which sat a brown warrior who was hurling javelins at the guards below.

A glance around showed that at least five hundred of these flying monsters had attacked the camp, and all were now rising with slaves and guards struggling in their nets.

"What is this? Where are they taking us?" Jerry asked his companion.

"A slave raid," the latter replied. "Deza help us, for we are in the clutches of Sarkis the Torturer!"

CHAPTER XII

THE raiding party flew rapidly away, its victims dangling helplessly in the nets. "I have heard of this Sarkis the Torturer," Jerry said. "An outlaw, I believe. But what can he want with us?"

"He wants fighting men, and victims for sacrifice. This raid will provide both."

"How both?"

"The captives will be put to the test. Those who can use a sword and are willing to join the outlaws and worship the Sun God will be spared. The others will be reserved for sacrifice. But why do you ask all these questions?" He glanced sharply at Jerry for a moment, then exclaimed: "Ah, I see the reason now! You are a white man in disguise. Who are you?"

Jerry looked down at his chest, and saw what had betrayed him. Two of the strips of jembal applied by Nisha to the scratches she had made on his body had been rubbed off in the scuffle. And along the edges of the scratches his unstained white skin showed. "Since you know this much, I may as well tell you all," he said. "I am Jerry Morgan of the planet Earth, which you call Dhu Gong. I got into trouble in the palace, and had to leave hurriedly in this disguise."

"I have heard of you," said the big man, a look of admiration in his eyes, "and of your duel with Arsad, Rad of Dhoor. Since you slew the best swordsman in all Kalsivar, I do not think you will have difficulty qualifying for the service of Sarkis-that is, if you care to join the outlaws."

"I hadn't thought of it," Jerry told him, "but it might not be a bad idea. I'm an outlaw, myself, sentenced to be flayed alive and sprinkled with fire powder, whatever that is."

"Fire powder is a material we use to light fires with," said the giant. "It is made from baridium, the same substance used in manufacturing our lights, and ignites when wet."

"Odd stuff," replied Jerry, "and scarcely a comfortable thing to have sprinkled on one. But tell me, who are you, and how did you happen to be doing a slave's work?"

"I am Yewd, the fisherman," said the giant, "and was accused of stealing a boat. I was innocent, but an enemy brought false witness, and the seven judges sentenced me to work a year on the excavations with the band of felons you saw me with."

"Then I presume that you have no cause to love the government."

"You are a man of sound judgment and rare discrimination," laughed Yewd. "In a nation where justice is a mockery, on what side should any real man fight? But unfortunately, I have not the skill with the sword which is likely to save me from becoming a sacrifice to the Sun God."

"Perhaps I can find a way to save you from that fate," said Jerry. "And I hope you will be willing to forget that I am Jerry Morgan, and remember that I am Cudo, the slave."

"That I will," said Yewd, heartily. "But what are you going to do about those white streaks?"

"I'll fix them easily enough," Jerry told him. He took the bottle of brown liquid from his pouch and stained all the white lines. "How does it look?"

"A perfect match, Gudo," said Yewd. "That is great stuff if you want to change your complexion. At present I am satisfied with mine."

His disguise completed once more, Jerry looked down at the landscape beneath them. It was a vast rolling desert of ochre-yellow sand, sparsely dotted by patches of thorny creepers with large red flowers. "Wherever they are taking us," he told his companion, "it must be a long way into the desert."

"The Torturer and his outlaws have many secret lairs," said Yewd, "and some of them must be in the desert. But gawrs require much water, and I'll wager that this time we are being taken to one of the wild marshes of the district."

"Gawrs?"

"Yes. The creatures that are carrying us. Have you noticed their webbed feet? They swim as well as fly."

It soon became evident that Yewd's prediction was correct, for the flock sailed over a sheer precipice which edged what had evidently once been the shore of an ancient ocean. Now it was a sloping sandy beach which led down to a marsh, in which a number of small lakes reflected the slanting rays of the afternoon sun. Around the shores of several of these lakes were the portable fur huts of a large armed encampment, dimly seen through a haze of smoke from the thousands of cooking fires.

The lakes were dotted with swimming gawrs with their wings chained down to prevent their flying away. Armed sentinels were posted on the bluffs and in a wide circle all about the camp. And a score of them constantly soared high overhead, keeping watch.

At sight of the returning raiding party, a great shout went up from the camp. Then a number of warriors caught up their spears and hurried to an open space among the huts, where they formed a large ring. One of the raiders dropped to the center of this ring until the net rested on the ground, while the gawr hovered overhead.

Two soldiers, who had detached themselves from the ring, came forward and ordered the three captives out of the net. One by one the gawrs descended, hovered and flew away, until all the nets had been emptied.

The captured men were a motley group, consisting of white, brown and black men. But the spearmen who surrounded them were equally diversified as to color, and more so as to their clothing and ornaments. Jerry noticed, however, that they had one thing in common. Hanging suspended on the chest of each was a clear crystal disk about six inches in diameter.

The Earthman nudged his giant companion. "What are those disks for?"

"Symbols of their religion," Yewd replied, "and magic instruments with which they light their fires in the daytime. They are worshipers of Sarkis, the Sun God. At night they must use fire powder like the rest of us."

Magic instruments-and for lighting fires. Jerry instantly recognized them for large magnifying glasses, but he said nothing to his companion. He noticed a stir in the crowd behind the spearman, and heard cries of:

"Way for His Holy Majesty! Shield your eyes from the blinding glory of Sarkis, Lord of the Day and Vil of the Worlds."

A path opened up in the crowd of warriors, all of whom instantly raised their hands before their eyes to salute a most repulsive-looking thing. It was on a divan that topped a gilded platform, borne on the backs of a score of slaves. The thing was obviously a man, large and muscular. But his face was concealed by a most hideous mask of burnished gold, fastened to a headpiece on which a thick mat of golden threads formed a bristling, leonine mane.

The sharp hooked nose of the mask was covered with red lacquer, and the lips were blue against a background of yellow fangs. From behind the oval slits in the black-ringed eye-sockets a pair of glittering eyes looked forth. The garments were of royal peacock blue, and those parts of the body which would normally have been exposed-torso, legs, arms and hands-were covered with a finely woven golden mesh. He wore a richly jeweled, gold hilted sword and dagger. And on his chest there hung a large crystal disk, fully twelve inches in diameter.

At a sign from the masked figure on the divan, the slaves lowered the platform to the ground and stood with folded arms on either side of it.

The Torturer rose, and standing in front of his divan, spoke in weird, sepulchral tones that echoed hollowly in the golden confines of his mask.

"The sacrifice comes first," he said. "Then we will make trial of the prisoners."

At this, a number of the spearmen herded the prisoners back to a spot at the left of the divan. Then a lane opened in the lines opposite it, and through this came a hundred slaves, staggering under the weight of a large metal platform on which five broad steps had been built. On each step reclined a man, bound in place by chains tightly drawn around neck, waist and ankles. Suspended above them on two poles by means of short shafts which allowed it to be turned in any direction, was a tremendous crystal disk.

This disk, as the slaves lowered their burden to the ground, had its edge turned toward the sun. But as soon as the platform had been placed in position, the Torturer raised his hand, and at this signal two men in yellow robes sprang up beside the poles and swung the disk around, manipulating it until they had focused the sun's rays in a brilliant spot of blue-white light, on the floor of the platform just in front of the lowest step.

This done, the masked figure raised both hands. Instantly the surrounding multitude began a slow, eerie chant which reminded Jerry of a dirge. The metal floor of the platform had already become red hot at the point where the light focused.

With an expression of horror on his features the man on the lowest step watched the oncoming spot. As it drew close to him, his skin was seen to redden from the heat it radiated. Suddenly he shrieked, as the white-hot light touched his side. The chanting grew louder, and in a moment more the agonized shrieking ceased, as the concentrated sun rays burned through a vital spot.

The brilliant, blinding spot traveled onward. One after another the remaining men shrieked and were silent. The chanting ceased. The smoking platform with its grisly burdens was carried away.

The two yellow robed men advanced so they faced both the masked figure on the platform and the sun.

"Thus, O Sarkis, Lord of the Day and Vil of the Worlds, do thy humble servants greet thee at thy rising, bail thee at thy meridian, and speed thee at thy setting, in accordance with the ancient custom," they said, raising their hands before their eyes.

The Torturer dismissed them with a gesture. "Now we will examine the prisoners," he announced, seating himself once more upon the divan.

Four men, bareheaded and naked to the waist, emerged from behind the platform. They stepped in front of the divan and saluted. Two were white, one wearing an orange cincture trimmed with black, and the other a plain black cincture. The third and fourth men were brown-skinned and wore the gray of slaves. A short, squat black man, also wearing the gray of a slave, now approached the man in orange and black, and held out to him a sheaf containing a dozen swords. The fellow selected one, and Jerry saw that its sides, instead of being saw-edged, were smooth and dull, while its point was tipped by a small oval bulb. The black passed similar swords to the other three men.

In the meantime, one of the captives, a brown slave, was marched up in front of the Torturer. He saluted, and took a sword from the black.

The Torturer leaned forward and looked at him appraisingly.

"We have here swordsmen of the first, second, third and fourth grades," he said. "If you would avoid the sacrificial altar you must defeat at least a fourth grade swordsman. This will make you a common warrior, and you need go no farther. But if you are ambitious and would be an officer, a barb, then you must defeat our swordsman of the third grade. Defeat the swordsman of the second grade, and you will be made a jen. And if you can best our swordsman of the first grade, you will be made a jendus. Defeat at any stage will render you a victim for the sacrifice. Which swordsman do you choose to fight first?"

"I choose the swordsman of the fourth grade, may it please your holy majesty."

And as soon as the two contestants had crossed their weapons Jerry saw that there was good reason for the slave's diffidence. His antagonist had him at the second thrust, marking him over the heart with a spot of red pigment which squeezed out of the bulb on the end of the sword.

"To the sacrifice pens," ordered Sarkis, in his hollow, sepulchral tones, "and bring the next prisoner."

Man after man was brought forward. Some were unable to defeat the swordsman of the lowest grade, and so went to the sacrifice pens. Most of those who won the first duel were satisfied to stop there and enlist in the army of Sarkis as common soldiers. But there were a few who aspired to higher honors. One of these became a barb, and stopped there. Another aspired to be a jen, but was defeated by the swordsman of the second grade.

When the fourth grade swordsman had fought ten duels, he was replaced by another. The swordsmen of the upper grades had so little fencing to do that it was unnecessary to relieve them. Some fifty-odd men had fought, and a sixth swordsman of the fourth grade was testing, when Yewd, who stood just in front of Jerry, was called.

"Farewell, Gudo, my friend," he whispered. "If it were to be a spear or javelin, I would have a chance. But with a sword I am all but helpless."

A shout went up from the crowd at sight of Yewd's giant thews, but as soon as he had a sword in his hand, his unfamiliarity with that weapon was instantly apparent. His brown-skinned opponent grinned, played with him for a moment, and then marked him twice on the chest.

Jerry's turn was next. The surrounding warriors hooted him as derisively as they had Yewd. But when he selected a weapon, tested its balance, and whipped it about with the ease and grace of a practiced swordsman, they grew silent.

The swordsman of the fourth rank advanced with weapon in readiness, but Jerry held up his hand. "Wait. I would not waste the time of his holy majesty."

"What is this, slave?" asked the masked figure on the throne.

"With your majesty's permission, I will engage only the swordsman of the first grade. I have seen the fencing of these others, and they would furnish but poor sport for me. But none has yet tried the mettle of this jendus."

"Why, this is bold talk," said Sarkis. "But braggarts who cannot make good their boasting do not long survive among us. Have at him, then."

CHAPTER XIII

JERRY found his antagonist a swordsman of unusual talent. And as he fought, there were many times when he was only able to save himself from the touch that would have sent him to the sacrifice pen by the agility which his Earth-trained muscles afforded him on Mars.

And it was this same factor which, in the end, gave him the advantage. For his opponent, evidently fearful of the derision of the horde, pressed so fiercely that he tired himself. Soon Jerry was only playing with the man who had been the idol of the Torturer's warriors. But he quickly put an end to it by marking the chest of the jendus just above the heart.

The face of the latter was a study in mixed emotions-surprise, chagrin, and hurt vanity. But Jerry's attention was distracted from him by the voice of the masked man on the divan.

"You have made good your boast, slave," he said, "and we are ready to appoint you a jendus in our army if you will prove your devotion to our cause by truthfully answering any questions I may put to you. Fail to do so, and there is still the sacrifice pens. What is your name?"

"Men call me Gudo, the slave."

"Slave of whom?"

"Of Her Highness Nisha Novil."

"Ah! And you mean to tell me that her highness would send a swordsman of your ability to work on the canal?"

"That was where she sent me, your majesty."

"Are you of the brown race of Kalsivar?"

"If I am not," said Jerry with a smile, "what am I?"

"That is what I mean to find out-in a moment," said Sarkis. He turned to a slave and issued a curt order. The latter dashed away, returning a moment later with a large basin of water. The Torturer took a small flask from his pouch, and uncorking it, poured several drops of a clear liquid into the water. After stirring it with his dagger he beckoned to Jerry. "Come and stand before me," he commanded.

The Earthman did as directed.

Taking the basin from the slave's hands, Sarkis commanded: "Remove our headcloak."

As soon as he had complied, Jerry was drenched from head to foot by the contents of that basin. To his surprise and horror, he saw that wherever the water had touched, his skin had resumed its normal color.

"And now," said the Torturer, a note of exultation in his hollow tones, "who are you?"

"I am Jerry Morgan of Earth."

"And not the slave of Nisha Novil?" No."

"Nor yet a member of the brown race of Kalsivar. Nor do men call you Gudo. You have lied to me, and you know the penalty. To the sacrifice pens with him. And see that he is the first victim to greet the great Lord Sun at his rising tomorrow."

Jerry was hustled away through the jeering crowd to the gate of a large inclosure, surrounded by a stone wall thirty feet in height. A guard opened the gate, and he was hurled through by his burly conductors.

A big hand reached out to help him. It was the hand of Yewd, the fisherman.

"I did not think to see you here," said the giant, "and with your rightful color restored. This Sarkis must be a wizard, in very truth."

"At least he is a good guesser," replied Jerry, "or what is more probable, is someone who saw me at the court of Numin Vil..

"There may be some truth in that. I have heard that the Torturer spends much time away from his army, and that he comes and goes alone in his great metal flying machine. Each time he leaves, he flies straight toward the sun until his craft is lost to view, and gives out that he is returning to his home in the sun."

"I'm afraid he would need a better insulated suit and mask than the ones he is wearing for a visit to the sun," said Jerry. "Can his people actually believe he goes there?"

"Many of them do," replied Yewd. "Others, I am convinced, only pretend. They have joined forces with him because he has always been victorious, and because his raids afford much loot."

While they were talking the last of the victims from the raid was thrust into the pen. And shortly thereafter, night fell with the suddenness common to Mars, where there is little light refraction in the thin dry atmosphere, and no perceptible twilight. The pen was plunged into instant darkness.

In the deeper shadow of the wall, Jerry was carrying on a whispered conversation with Yewd.

"You say the pen is on the edge of the lake, and that the gawrs swim riderless only a short distance from the shore?" he asked.

"If they remain as they were before I was brought hither. But I don't see how it will be possible for you to leap to the top of the wall."

"That is a detail you must take on faith. In any event, we are all doomed men, and an attempt to escape cannot put us in worse case."

"You are right," agreed Yewd. "Let us then pass the word among the others, and see who is willing to make the attempt with us."

"Tell them to take off their belts and give them to you," Jerry said, "and I will do likewise. Twenty belts will easily reach over the top of the wall and to the ground on the other side. I'll meet you here when we have made the rounds."

A few moments later Yewd and Jerry collided in the darkness. "Have you some belts?" asked the Earthman.

"More than we need," the giant replied. "I have twenty-seven."

"And I have thirty-two," Jerry told him. "We will construct two lines. Every man is coming with us, and thus we will be able to get them over the wall with more speed."

As soon as the two long chains of belts had been fastened together, Yewd cleared a path for Jerry. Absolute silence had been enjoined upon all, but there was a subdued murmur of wonder as they heard the Earthman run and spring, and a moment later saw him outlined against the stars as he drew himself up onto the wall.

The end of each chain of belts had been hooked to the back of his own belt. But he left them there for a moment, as he paused to cast a swift, cautious look around him. There were no guards between him and the water's edge. Most of the campfires had burned down to beds of glowing coals, but the sounds of revelry were loud and there was the mixed medley of songs, and drunken quarrels.

Assured that the way was clear, Jerry swiftly unhooked the two chains of belts, and lowered one on each side of him until ten belts had passed each hand and he knew that the ground had been reached. Then he gave one line a gentle shake, after which he gripped it with both hands and braced himself on the opposite side of the wall. A heavy weight was thrown on that chain of belts, but Jerry's powerful Earthly muscles were more than capable of supporting it. And in a few moments Yewd was on the wall beside him.

Yewd jerked a signal to the men beneath him, and as soon as the line grew taut, descended on the other side, where he grasped the ends of both lines.

Retaining his seat on the top of the wall, Jerry directed operations by signaling to those below each time a man had reached the top of the wall on either line, until he had counted sixty, and the pit was emptied. Then, drawing up the ends of the lines, he dropped them on the outside, and letting himself down as low as possible by hanging onto the outer rim of the wall, dropped after them.

Silently the men resumed their belts, and then, forming a great human chain by clasping hands in the dark, they silently advanced to the water's edge. Here they paused for a moment, while Yewd whispered the final instructions.

"Remember, not a sound or a splash," he cautioned. "It may be that we will become separated from one cause or another. If so, our place of rendezvous will be the southern end of the Tarvaho Marsh. Pass the word along, then swim out, seize the gawr nearest you, and fly straight north."

The human chain broke into its units, with the exception of Yewd and Jerry. Because the latter knew nothing whatever about managing a gawr, the two had decided to attempt to make their escape on the s