3 - Barbarians of Mars (18 page)

 
          
 
Many of the automatons went down.

 
          
 
Not one of our men received more than a minor
wound. Somehow we all survived against the might of the men-turned-machines.

 
          
 
But, bit by bit, they surrounded us and
crushed us inwards until there was no room to fight.

 
          
 
Then we were captured - not killed, as I had
expected - and our swords wrenched from our hands.

 
          
 
What did the Eleven intend to do with us now?

 
          
 
I looked up at our airships. What would they
do with those? With the plague-curing water we had brought?

 
          
 
I wondered if there was never to be good health
and sanity in Cend-Amrid.

HOPE FOR THE FUTURE

 
          
 
We were imprisoned in the same kind of cell we
had found ourselves in before.

 
          
 
There were quite a few of us and it was rather
cramped. I could not understand why we had not been killed outright, but I
decided to accept this and begin trying to think of a means of escape.

 
          
 
I inspected our cell. It had been well made
and designed specifically to imprison men - a rare thing on Mars, where the
whole idea is normally abhorrent.

 
          
 
Suddenly I remembered the slim dagger that
Fasa the cat-girl had given me earlier.

 
          
 
I removed it from my harness and looked at it,
wondering how it might be used to our advantage.

 
          
 
There are only so many ways of escaping from
prison - if the prison has been thoughtfully designed in order to afford no
entrance but the door. I considered them all, going carefully over the door in
particular.

 
          
 
The hinges were its weakest point. I began to
work at the wood of the door-frame, near the hinges, with the idea of hauling
the door inwards.

 
          
 
I must have worked, absorbed in what I was
doing for several shatis.

 
          
 
At length I had succeeded in cutting the wood
away from the frame. Then Hool Haji, Damad and
myself
hauled at the door. It groaned inwards, the bar on the other side falling down
with a clatter.

 
          
 
No one seemed to have heard us.

 
          
 
Silently, we began to move towards the steps
that led up to the first floor of the
Central Place
.

 
          
 
We had just reached the corridor and were
hoping that we could somehow reach the roof and the airships - if they were
still there - when I heard a sound to my left.

 
          
 
I whirled, dagger in hand, crouched and ready
for action.

 
          
 
A figure stood there, blank-faced and
stiff-bodied.

 
          
 
"One!"
I
said. "Barane Dasa!"

 
          
 
"I was coming to cells,"
came
the cold voice.
"Now it not
necessary.
You come."

 
          
 
"Where to?"
I asked.

 
          
 
"To main water supply Cend-Amrid,"
was the reply. "Your tanks are there."

 
          
 
Wonderingly, we followed him, still unsure,
still believing this might be some kind of trap.

 
          
 
We followed him through corridors and passages
that seemed to lead away from the
Central Place
, perhaps underground, until we came to a
high roofed place that was in semi-darkness. Here a great reservoir of water
gleamed. On a kind of jetty leading out into the reservoir were the tanks in
which we had carried the green water from the
Lake
of the Green Mists.

 
          
 
Somehow Barane Dasa must have manhandled them
here by himself!

 
          
 
"Why do you go against the Eleven?"
I asked him, as I checked that the tanks had not been tampered with.

 
          
 
"It is necessary."

 
          
 
"But when I last saw you, you were a
fairly normal human being. What has happened to you?"

 
          
 
For an instant his face relaxed and his eyes
had a faint, ironic gleam. "To help them we must not attack them," he
said. "I think you taught me that, Michael Kane."

 
          
 
I was astonished.

 
          
 
This man had pretended to become 'rehabilitated'
into the Eleven so that he could try to reverse the effects of the creed he had
himself originated. I could only admire him. I thought he might do it - once
the plague was cured for good and all.

 
          
 
"But I still cannot quite see why you
brought us here," I said.

 
          
 
"For more than one
reason.
You saved the life of my niece, Ala Mara, while you were here.
That is simple gratitude. But-also you showed me how I might best work to
correct the crime I began here in Cend-Anuid."

 
          
 
I reached out and gripped his arm. “You'are a
man, Barane Dasa, You will do it."

 
          
 
"I hope so. Now you must all get the
antidote into the water supply. All machines need fuel," he said,
"and the machines of Cend-Amrid must drink."

 
          
 
His reasoning was sound. We were going to do
good
, as he hoped to do personally, by stealth.

 
          
 
Soon we had got all the green water into the
reservoir and our work was done - or would be done in the course of a day.

 
          
 
Now Barane Dasa said, "You come,"
returning to his original ro1e.

 
          
 
We followed him through a series of winding
passageways.

 
          
 
Slowly we began to work our way higher and
higher until, to my astonishment - for I had completely lost my bearings -we
found ourselves on the roof of the
Central Place
.

 
          
 
And there were our airships.

 
          
 
They were in exactly the place we had left
them.

 
          
 
Peering down from the cabin of my own airship
was Ala Mara, a smile of relief on her face.

 
          
 
"Uncle!" she whispered excitedly
when she saw Barane Dasa. But the man did not look at her, keeping his face
rigid and his body straight. He did not even make a gesture to her.

 
          
 
"Uncle" - her voice broke a little -
"don't you recognize me - Ala Mara, your niece?"

 
          
 
Barane Dasa remained silent.

 
          
 
I made a sign for her - a gesture that was
meant to comfort her, but I heard her sob as, she retreated into the cabin.

 
          
 
"Why did they do nothing to our
airships?" I said softly to Barane Dasa.

 
          
 
"Airships not exist," he said.

 
          
 
"So they cannot see them - or have
deluded themselves into thinking that they can't see them."

 
          
 
"Yes."

 
          
 
"You have a hard fight on your hands for
one man," I said.

 
          
 
"Plague gone - fight easier," he
said. "Plague
go
fast - this take longer."

 
          
 
"And you will win, if any man can,"
I said, voicing the sentiments I had expressed earlier.

 
          
 
I gripped his arm once more and began to climb
the ladder up to the cabin. I would need to comfort Ala Mara now, tell her a little
at least of what her uncle had been forced to make of
himself
.

 
          
 
Soon we were all swinging up the ladders and
entering our cabins.

 
          
 
Our main mission had been a success and some
of our earlier exhilaration had returned.

 
          
 
The airships swung in the air, pointing back
towards Vamal.

 
          
 
Soon we were speeding rapidly over the lakes,
crossing the place of flowers and quicksands.

 
          
 
We were going home. In a sense we were already
there, for our hearts were at ease and our minds at rest at long last!

 
          
 
We came back to Vamal on a peaceful morning
full of gentle sunlight. The green mists swirled delicately through the city,
the marble towers gleamed and glinted, and the whole city scintillated with
light like a precious gem.

 
          
 
Far away came a faint sound, as of children
singing, and we knew we were hearing the songs of the Calling Hills.

 
          
 
The whole of Mars seemed at peace. We had
fought long and hard for that peace, but we were not heroes because of that.
All we had done, in a sense, was to make heroes of all those who had fought
with us.

 
          
 
It was enough.

 
          
 
Shizala was waiting in the central square near
the palace. She was mounted on the broad back of a gentle dahara and she had
another beast saddled and ready beside her.

 
          
 
I was not tired and I knew that she would know
that.

 
          
 
I was quick to scramble down the ladder and
swing from it on to the back of the waiting dahara.

 
          
 
I leant over and kissed my wife, hugging her
close to me.

 
          
 
"Is it over
? "
she asked.

 
          
 
"Mainly," I said. "In time it
will be nothing but a memory of sadness and disturbance. It is good that Vashu
should have such memories."

 
          
 
"Yes." She nodded. "It is good.
Come - let us ride to the Calling Hills as we used to when we first met."

 
          
 
Together we urged our daharas forward through
the quiet morning, riding through the lovely streets and out towards the
Calling Hills.

 
          
 
With my beautiful wife riding beside me, and
with the exhilaration of the fast ride, I knew that I had won something of
immense value - something that I might well have lost if I had not come to Mars
as I did.

 
          
 
The cool scents of the Martian autumn in my
nostrils, I gave myself up to the joy that comes from true and simple
happiness.