The Gods Of Mars (25 page)

By returning from Dor we had committed a sacrilege; by recounting our
adventures there, and stating the facts as they existed we had outraged
the religion of their fathers. We were blasphemers—lying heretics.
Even those who still clung to us from personal love and loyalty I think
did so in the face of the fact that at heart they questioned our
veracity—it is very hard to accept a new religion for an old, no
matter how alluring the promises of the new may be; but to reject the
old as a tissue of falsehoods without being offered anything in its
stead is indeed a most difficult thing to ask of any people.

Kantos Kan would not talk of our experiences among the therns and the
First Born.

“It is enough,” he said, “that I jeopardize my life here and hereafter
by countenancing you at all—do not ask me to add still further to my
sins by listening to what I have always been taught was the rankest
heresy.”

I knew that sooner or later the time must come when our friends and
enemies would be forced to declare themselves openly. When we reached
Helium there must be an accounting, and if Tardos Mors had not returned
I feared that the enmity of Zat Arras might weigh heavily against us,
for he represented the government of Helium. To take sides against him
were equivalent to treason. The majority of the troops would doubtless
follow the lead of their officers, and I knew that many of the highest
and most powerful men of both land and air forces would cleave to John
Carter in the face of god, man, or devil.

On the other hand, the majority of the populace unquestionably would
demand that we pay the penalty of our sacrilege. The outlook seemed
dark from whatever angle I viewed it, but my mind was so torn with
anguish at the thought of Dejah Thoris that I realize now that I gave
the terrible question of Helium’s plight but scant attention at that
time.

There was always before me, day and night, a horrible nightmare of the
frightful scenes through which I knew my Princess might even then be
passing—the horrid plant men—the ferocious white apes. At times I
would cover my face with my hands in a vain effort to shut out the
fearful thing from my mind.

It was in the forenoon that we arrived above the mile-high scarlet
tower which marks greater Helium from her twin city. As we descended
in great circles toward the navy docks a mighty multitude could be seen
surging in the streets beneath. Helium had been notified by
radio-aerogram of our approach.

From the deck of the Xavarian we four, Carthoris, Tars Tarkas, Xodar,
and I, were transferred to a lesser flier to be transported to quarters
within the Temple of Reward. It is here that Martian justice is meted
to benefactor and malefactor. Here the hero is decorated. Here the
felon is condemned. We were taken into the temple from the landing
stage upon the roof, so that we did not pass among the people at all,
as is customary. Always before I had seen prisoners of note, or
returned wanderers of eminence, paraded from the Gate of Jeddaks to the
Temple of Reward up the broad Avenue of Ancestors through dense crowds
of jeering or cheering citizens.

I knew that Zat Arras dared not trust the people near to us, for he
feared that their love for Carthoris and myself might break into a
demonstration which would wipe out their superstitious horror of the
crime we were to be charged with. What his plans were I could only
guess, but that they were sinister was evidenced by the fact that only
his most trusted servitors accompanied us upon the flier to the Temple
of Reward.

We were lodged in a room upon the south side of the temple, overlooking
the Avenue of Ancestors down which we could see the full length to the
Gate of Jeddaks, five miles away. The people in the temple plaza and
in the streets for a distance of a full mile were standing as close
packed as it was possible for them to get. They were very
orderly—there were neither scoffs nor plaudits, and when they saw us
at the window above them there were many who buried their faces in
their arms and wept.

Late in the afternoon a messenger arrived from Zat Arras to inform us
that we would be tried by an impartial body of nobles in the great hall
of the temple at the 1st zode
[1]
on the following day, or about 8:40 A.M.
Earth time.

A few moments before the appointed time on the following morning a
strong guard of Zat Arras’ officers appeared at our quarters to conduct
us to the great hall of the temple.

In twos we entered the chamber and marched down the broad Aisle of
Hope, as it is called, to the platform in the centre of the hall.
Before and behind us marched armed guards, while three solid ranks of
Zodangan soldiery lined either side of the aisle from the entrance to
the rostrum.

As we reached the raised enclosure I saw our judges. As is the custom
upon Barsoom there were thirty-one, supposedly selected by lot from men
of the noble class, for nobles were on trial. But to my amazement I
saw no single friendly face among them. Practically all were
Zodangans, and it was I to whom Zodanga owed her defeat at the hands of
the green hordes and her subsequent vassalage to Helium. There could
be little justice here for John Carter, or his son, or for the great
Thark who had commanded the savage tribesmen who overran Zodanga’s
broad avenues, looting, burning, and murdering.

About us the vast circular coliseum was packed to its full capacity.
All classes were represented—all ages, and both sexes. As we entered
the hall the hum of subdued conversation ceased until as we halted upon
the platform, or Throne of Righteousness, the silence of death
enveloped the ten thousand spectators.

The judges were seated in a great circle about the periphery of the
circular platform. We were assigned seats with our backs toward a
small platform in the exact centre of the larger one. This placed us
facing the judges and the audience. Upon the smaller platform each
would take his place while his case was being heard.

Zat Arras himself sat in the golden chair of the presiding magistrate.
As we were seated and our guards retired to the foot of the stairway
leading to the platform, he arose and called my name.

“John Carter,” he cried, “take your place upon the Pedestal of Truth to
be judged impartially according to your acts and here to know the
reward you have earned thereby.” Then turning to and fro toward the
audience he narrated the acts upon the value of which my reward was to
be determined.

“Know you, O judges and people of Helium,” he said, “that John Carter,
one time Prince of Helium, has returned by his own statement from the
Valley Dor and even from the Temple of Issus itself. That, in the
presence of many men of Helium he has blasphemed against the Sacred
Iss, and against the Valley Dor, and the Lost Sea of Korus, and the
Holy Therns themselves, and even against Issus, Goddess of Death, and
of Life Eternal. And know you further by witness of thine own eyes
that see him here now upon the Pedestal of Truth that he has indeed
returned from these sacred precincts in the face of our ancient
customs, and in violation of the sanctity of our ancient religion.

“He who be once dead may not live again. He who attempts it must be
made dead for ever. Judges, your duty lies plain before you—here can
be no testimony in contravention of truth. What reward shall be meted
to John Carter in accordance with the acts he has committed?”

“Death!” shouted one of the judges.

And then a man sprang to his feet in the audience, and raising his hand
on high, cried: “Justice! Justice! Justice!” It was Kantos Kan, and
as all eyes turned toward him he leaped past the Zodangan soldiery and
sprang upon the platform.

“What manner of justice be this?” he cried to Zat Arras. “The
defendant has not been heard, nor has he had an opportunity to call
others in his behalf. In the name of the people of Helium I demand
fair and impartial treatment for the Prince of Helium.”

A great cry arose from the audience then: “Justice! Justice!
Justice!” and Zat Arras dared not deny them.

“Speak, then,” he snarled, turning to me; “but blaspheme not against
the things that are sacred upon Barsoom.”

“Men of Helium,” I cried, turning to the spectators, and speaking over
the heads of my judges, “how can John Carter expect justice from the
men of Zodanga? He cannot nor does he ask it. It is to the men of
Helium that he states his case; nor does he appeal for mercy to any.
It is not in his own cause that he speaks now—it is in thine. In the
cause of your wives and daughters, and of wives and daughters yet
unborn. It is to save them from the unthinkably atrocious indignities
that I have seen heaped upon the fair women of Barsoom in the place men
call the Temple of Issus. It is to save them from the sucking embrace
of the plant men, from the fangs of the great white apes of Dor, from
the cruel lust of the Holy Therns, from all that the cold, dead Iss
carries them to from homes of love and life and happiness.

“Sits there no man here who does not know the history of John Carter.
How he came among you from another world and rose from a prisoner among
the green men, through torture and persecution, to a place high among
the highest of Barsoom. Nor ever did you know John Carter to lie in
his own behalf, or to say aught that might harm the people of Barsoom,
or to speak lightly of the strange religion which he respected without
understanding.

“There be no man here, or elsewhere upon Barsoom to-day who does not
owe his life directly to a single act of mine, in which I sacrificed
myself and the happiness of my Princess that you might live. And so,
men of Helium, I think that I have the right to demand that I be heard,
that I be believed, and that you let me serve you and save you from the
false hereafter of Dor and Issus as I saved you from the real death
that other day.

“It is to you of Helium that I speak now. When I am done let the men
of Zodanga have their will with me. Zat Arras has taken my sword from
me, so the men of Zodanga no longer fear me. Will you listen?”

“Speak, John Carter, Prince of Helium,” cried a great noble from the
audience, and the multitude echoed his permission, until the building
rocked with the noise of their demonstration.

Zat Arras knew better than to interfere with such a sentiment as was
expressed that day in the Temple of Reward, and so for two hours I
talked with the people of Helium.

But when I had finished, Zat Arras arose and, turning to the judges,
said in a low tone: “My nobles, you have heard John Carter’s plea;
every opportunity has been given him to prove his innocence if he be
not guilty; but instead he has but utilized the time in further
blasphemy. What, gentlemen, is your verdict?”

“Death to the blasphemer!” cried one, springing to his feet, and in an
instant the entire thirty-one judges were on their feet with upraised
swords in token of the unanimity of their verdict.

If the people did not hear Zat Arras’ charge, they certainly did hear
the verdict of the tribunal. A sullen murmur rose louder and louder
about the packed coliseum, and then Kantos Kan, who had not left the
platform since first he had taken his place near me, raised his hand
for silence. When he could be heard he spoke to the people in a cool
and level voice.

“You have heard the fate that the men of Zodanga would mete to Helium’s
noblest hero. It may be the duty of the men of Helium to accept the
verdict as final. Let each man act according to his own heart. Here
is the answer of Kantos Kan, head of the navy of Helium, to Zat Arras
and his judges,” and with that he unbuckled his scabbard and threw his
sword at my feet.

In an instant soldiers and citizens, officers and nobles were crowding
past the soldiers of Zodanga and forcing their way to the Throne of
Righteousness. A hundred men surged upon the platform, and a hundred
blades rattled and clanked to the floor at my feet. Zat Arras and his
officers were furious, but they were helpless. One by one I raised the
swords to my lips and buckled them again upon their owners.

“Come,” said Kantos Kan, “we will escort John Carter and his party to
his own palace,” and they formed about us and started toward the stairs
leading to the Aisle of Hope.

“Stop!” cried Zat Arras. “Soldiers of Helium, let no prisoner leave
the Throne of Righteousness.”

The soldiery from Zodanga were the only organized body of Heliumetic
troops within the temple, so Zat Arras was confident that his orders
would be obeyed, but I do not think that he looked for the opposition
that was raised the moment the soldiers advanced toward the throne.

From every quarter of the coliseum swords flashed and men rushed
threateningly upon the Zodangans. Some one raised a cry: “Tardos Mors
is dead—a thousand years to John Carter, Jeddak of Helium.” As I heard
that and saw the ugly attitude of the men of Helium toward the soldiers
of Zat Arras, I knew that only a miracle could avert a clash that would
end in civil war.

“Hold!” I cried, leaping to the Pedestal of Truth once more. “Let no
man move till I am done. A single sword thrust here to-day may plunge
Helium into a bitter and bloody war the results of which none can
foresee. It will turn brother against brother and father against son.
No man’s life is worth that sacrifice. Rather would I submit to the
biased judgment of Zat Arras than be the cause of civil strife in
Helium.

“Let us each give in a point to the other, and let this entire matter
rest until Tardos Mors returns, or Mors Kajak, his son. If neither be
back at the end of a year a second trial may be held—the thing has a
precedent.” And then turning to Zat Arras, I said in a low voice:
“Unless you be a bigger fool than I take you to be, you will grasp the
chance I am offering you ere it is too late. Once that multitude of
swords below is drawn against your soldiery no man upon Barsoom—not
even Tardos Mors himself—can avert the consequences. What say you?
Speak quickly.”