3 - Barbarians of Mars (7 page)

 
          
 
"We only know that to tamper with them
will mean death for you all, at the very least. It could mean the destruction
of half of Mars!"

 
          
 
"Do not try to frighten me with such
threats," Rokin smiled. "I am no little boy to be told what is bad
for me and what is good."

 
          
 
"In this case," I said urgently,
"you are as the smallest child. And these are no toys you are playing
with!"

 
          
 
"I know that, my friend. They are
weapons. Weapons that will win me half Mars if I use them well."

 
          
 
"Forget about them!" I said.

 
          
 
"Nonsense.
Why
should I?"

 
          
 
"For one thing," I told him,
"there is a plague in a city some distance from here. One of the machines
you have might be capable of checking it. If it is not checked it must soon
escape the confines of the city and begin to spread. Do you know what a plague
is?
A disease?"

 
          
 
"Well, I've had one or two complaints
myself - so have others I know. I was coughing for a couple of days when I lost
myself swimming in the ocean when I was a lad. Is that what you mean?"

 
          
 
"No." I described the symptoms of
the green plague that was destroying the folk of Cend-Amrid.

 
          
 
He looked rather green himself when I had
finished. "Arc you sure it's that bad?" he said.

 
          
 
"It is," I said. "What would
you think if something like that swept throughout this continent, eventually
spreading to your own?"

 
          
 
"How can it 'spread'?" he said
unbelievingly.

 
          
 
I tried to explain about germs and microbes,
but it meant nothing to him. All I succeeded in doing was weakening my case and
leaving him shaking his head.

 
          
 
"What a liar! What a liar!" he
repeated.
"Little creatures in our blood!
Hoi Hoi
Hoi! You must be a Bagarad. You must have been stolen from us as a baby!"

 
          
 
"Believe what I tell you about the plague
or not," I said desperately. "But believe its effects, at least -
even Rokin the Gold is not safe from it."

 
          
 
He tapped his armour. "This is gold - it
protects me from anything - man or magic!"

 
          
 
"You seem to respect us," I said.
"Then will you release us?"

 
          
 
He shook his head. "No." He grinned.
"I think we'll find you useful - if only for ransom."

 
          
 
It was impossible, plainly, to reach the
barbarian by appealing to his reason. There was nothing for it but to hope we
could make an early escape, after seeing just what machines he had stolen and,
if possible, making sure he could never use them. This gave rise to another
thought.

 
          
 
"What if I can help with the
machines?" I said. "Would you release us then?"

 
          
 
"Perhaps," he said, nodding
thoughtfully.
"If I decided to trust you."

 
          
 
"I am a scientist," I informed him.
"I might throw in my lot with you if you made it worth my while." This
line of attack seemed to be getting better results, for he rubbed his jaw and
nodded again.

 
          
 
"I'll think about all this,"
he
said, "and talk to you again in the morning."
He turned and began to stride down the beach. "I'll have some food sent to
you," he called, as an afterthought.

 
          
 
The food was brought and it was not bad -
honest, plain meat, herbs and vegetables. It was fed to us by two grinning
barbarians whose weak jokes we were forced to put up with as we ate.

 
          
 
When they had gone and the barbarian camp
seemed still, I again began to roll towards Hool Haji, intent on getting at the
knife in his harness.

 
          
 
Being tied so firmly, it was hard to tell if
anyone could see us or not. I decided to take the chance.

 
          
 
Inch by inch I got closer to my friend, and at
last my teeth were in the pommel of the secret knife.

 
          
 
Slowly I worked it out of its hiding place
until it was firmly clamped in my teeth.

 
          
 
Hool Haji's hands were tied behind his back,
so that now he had to roll over while I tried to saw at his bonds.

 
          
 
After what seemed an age the first strand
parted, then the second. Very soon his hands would be free!

 
          
 
I was just starting on the last piece of rope
securing Hool Haji's hands when there came a gruff laugh from above and I
glimpsed gold as the knife was snatched from my teeth.

 
          
 
"You're game, the pair of you," came
Rokin's voice, full of rough laughter. "But you're too valuable to let go.
We'd better send you to sleep again."

 
          
 
Hool Haji and I made a desperate attempt to
get to our feet and attack him, but our bonds had checked our circulation.

 
          
 
A sword-pommel was raised.

 
          
 
It descended.

 
          
 
I blacked out.

VOYAGE TO BAGARAD

 
          
 
We were at sea when I awoke in the
musty-smelling hold of a ship whose sides did not seem to be of wood, as I had
expected.

 
          
 
My bonds had been cut, and apart from slight
cramp in my muscles I was feeling much better physically. I was also thinking
with greater clarity. The recent experiences with the barbarians seemed to have
drained me of much of my original emotion and, while I knew it would return in
time, I felt detached and, in some ways, in a healthier state of mind. Perhaps
it was the ship. The space is confined, the possibilities limited, and thus one
feels more in control of one's environment, particularly in contrast to the
seemingly limitless horizons existing on Mars of the age I know.

 
          
 
Whatever the reasons - and they were probably
an amalgam of all those I have suggested and more - I could work out better
what I must do. The first objective must be to inspect all the machines Rokin
had looted and check if one of them had properties capable of acting against
the plague. If one should prove to have this property then I should have to
think of ways of getting it away from Rokin and - the thought appalled me, but
it was going to be necessary - destroy the rest. If none of the machines could
provide me with what I wanted, then I could destroy them all. The latter would
be the easier task, of course.

 
          
 
The ship was rolling and I was forced to brace
myself against the sides of the hold. The hull seemed made in one piece, of a
kind of durable plastic that I had discovered earlier in the Yaksha stronghold.
It was dark, but as my eyes became accustomed to it, I could make out objects
that might once have been engine mountings. But there were no engines now. Here
again was an artifact left over from what the Martians call the Mightiest War -
the war that almost totally eliminated both the Yaksha and the Sheev and
virtually destroyed the planet itself.

 
          
 
I heard a stifled groan from the opposite
comer. I thought I recognized the voice.

 
          
 
"Hool Haji?" I said. "Is it
you?"

 
          
 
“It is I, my friend - or what is left of me.
One moment while I make sure I am all in one piece. Where are we?"

 
          
 
Through the dimness I saw my comrade's huge
shape rise from where he had been lying, saw him stagger and fall against a
bulwark.

 
          
 
As best I could, I made my way towards him as
the ship pitched about dreadfully. Though little sound permeated the hold, I
had the impression that we were in the middle of a particularly unpleasant
storm. I had heard that the Western ocean was not thought a healthy place for
seafarers, which was probably why it was so infrequently crossed.

 
          
 
Hool Haji groaned. "Oh, the Mendishar
were never meant to travel on the sea, Michael Kane."

 
          
 
He shifted his position as the ship was struck
by another great wave.

 
          
 
Suddenly light streamed into the hold and sea
water rushed in with it, soaking us at once. Framed in the opening above was a
bearded barbarian.

 
          
 
"On deck!" he ordered curtly, his
voice just heard above the howl of the storm.

 
          
 
"In this!"
I said. "We're not seamen!"

 
          
 
"Then this is the time to become seamen,
my friend. Rokin wants to see you."

 
          
 
I shrugged and made my way to the ladder now
revealed in the light of the open hatch.

 
          
 
Hool Haji followed me.

 
          
 
Together we climbed out on to the slippery
deck, clinging to the rope that ran along the centre of the deck, looped between
the two large masts, their sails now reefed.

 
          
 
Spray swirled in the air, water slapped the
deck,
the
ship was tumbled about by the great grey
mass of heaving water. Sky and sea were grey and indistinguishable - everything
seemed to be moving below us and about us. I had never experienced such a
dreadful storm.

 
          
 
If a Blue Giant can turn green, then Hool
Haji's face was green, his eyes showing a kind of agony that seemed to come as
much from a deep-rooted disturbance in his soul as much as from the physical
discomfort.

 
          
 
We edged our way towards the bridge of the
ship, where Rokin, still in his golden armour, clung to the rail, looking about
him as if in wonderment.

 
          
 
Somehow we managed to join him on the bridge.

 
          
 
He turned to us, saying something I could not
catch in a tone that matched the wonderment in his gaze. I indicated that I had
not heard him.

 
          
 
"Never seen one like this 1" he
shouted. "We'll be lucky if we stay up."

 
          
 
"What did you want to see us for?" I
asked.

 
          
 
"Help
! "he
shouted.

 
          
 
"What can we do? We know nothing of ships
or seafaring."

 
          
 
"There are machines in the hold, forward.
They're powerful. Couldn't they take the storm?"

 
          
 
"I doubt it," I yelled back.

 
          
 
He nodded to himself,
then
looked into my face. He appeared to accept the truth of what I said.

 
          
 
"What are our chances
?
"
I asked,

 
          
 
"Poor!"

 
          
 
He still seemed to show little fear. He was,
perhaps, more incredulous at the intensity of the storm.

 
          
 
Just then another great wave struck the ship
and water came crashing down upon me. Then I felt Rokin's weighted bulk fall on
me.

 
          
 
I heard a cry.

 
          
 
Then I knew that I had been hurled off the
ship and was totally at the mercy of the raging ocean.

 
          
 
I struggled desperately to stay afloat,
keeping mouth and nostrils as closed as possible.

 
          
 
I was hurtled crazily upon the crests of
waves, crashing into valleys with walls of water, until I saw a trailing rope.
I did not know if it was attached to anything or not - but I grabbed and caught
it. I clung to the rope and felt the comfort of resistance at the other end.

 
          
 
I do not know for how long I clung to the
rope, but whatever it was attached to the other end kept me afloat until the
storm slowly abated.

 
          
 
I opened salt-encrusted eyes in the watery
light of an early sunrise.

 
          
 
I saw a mast floating in the water ahead of
me. My rope was fastened to it.

 
          
 
I hauled myself towards the broken mast,
dragging myself wearily through the water. Then, as I neared it, I could see
that several others were clinging to the mast.

 
          
 
When at length I grasped the mast, with a
feeling of relief out of all proportion to the safety the mast offered, I saw
that one of those who clung there, barely conscious, was Hool Haji, his great
head lolling with exhaustion.

 
          
 
I reached out to touch him, to give him comfort
and to let him know I still lived.

 
          
 
At that moment I heard a distant cry to my
left and, looking in that direct, saw that the hull of the ship was
miraculously still afloat.

 
          
 
Sunlight flashed on gold and I knew that Rokin
had also survived. Clamping the rope between my teeth, I struck out towards the
ship. At length the rope ran out before I had reached the ship but, lucidly, it
was drifting in my direction.

 
          
 
Soon I was being dragged on board and some of
the barbarians were hauling in the rope and the mast.

 
          
 
It was not long before Hool Haji was also
being helped aboard and we lay together, utterly weary, on the deck. Rokin,
seemingly just as weary, was leaning on a broken rail and looking down on us.

 
          
 
From somewhere a hot drink was brought to us
and we felt recovered enough to sit up and view the ship.

 
          
 
Virtually everything had been stripped from
the deck by the fury of the storm. Only the miraculous hull had survived,
relatively undamaged. Both masts had been ripped away, and 311 most of the
rails and all the deck furniture, including one of the hatch-covers, had been
swept overboard.

 
          
 
Rokin walked towards us.

 
          
 
"You were lucky," he said.

 
          
 
"And you," I replied. "Where
are we?"

 
          
 
"Somewhere on the
Western sea.
Perhaps, judging by the direction of the
storm, closer to our own land than yours.
We can only hope that the
currents are in our favour and that we shall soon reach land. Most of our
provisions were ruined when yonder hold filled." He pointed to the hold
that had had its cover ripped off. "The machines are down there, too -
also half immersed - but safe enough, I'd guess."

 
          
 
"They will never be safe - to you,"
I warned him.

 
          
 
He grinned. "Nothing can harm Rokin - not
even that storm."

 
          
 
"If I am right about the power of those
machines," I told him, "they threaten far more danger than the
storm."

 
          
 
"To Rokin's enemies, perhaps,"
retaliated
the barbarian.

 
          
 
"To Rokin, too."

 
          
 
"What harm can they do to me? I have
them."

 
          
 
"I have warned you," I said, shaking
my head.

 
          
 
"What do you warn me about?"

 
          
 
"Your own
ignorance!"
I said.

 
          
 
He shrugged. "One does not have to be so
full of knowledge to use such machines."

 
          
 
"Certainly," I agreed. "But one
needs knowledge to understand them. If you do not understand them, then you
will fear them soon enough."

 
          
 
"I do not follow your reasoning,
Bradhinak. You are boring me."