Synthetic Men of Mars

Chapter XXIX

Back Toward Morbus

Edgar Rice Burroughs

WE WERE soon transferred to the Ruzaar, where I received a warm greeting from John Carter and Ras Thavas.

When I told my story, and Ur Raj had assured them that there were no more Heliumetic prisoners in Amhor, John Carter ordered the fleet about; and it headed again toward Morbus.

Ras Thavas was much concerned when I told him about the accident that had occurred in Vat Room No. 4 and its results.

“That is bad,” he said, “very bad. We may never be able to stop it. Let us hope that it has not reached the body of Vor Daj.”

“Oh, don’t suggest such a thing,” cried Janai. “Vor Daj must be saved.”

“It was to rescue Vor Daj that I returned with this fleet,” said John Carter, “and you may rest assured that it will not return without him, unless he has been destroyed.”

In fear and trembling, I inquired of John Carter the state of Dejah Thoris’s health.

“Thanks to Ras Thavas, she has completely recovered,” he replied. “Every great surgeon of Helium had given her up; but Ras Thavas, the miracle worker, restored her to perfect health.”

“Did you have any difficulty in returning to Helium from Morbus?” I asked.

“We had little else,” he replied. “From Morbus to Phundahl was almost one continuous battle with insects, beasts, reptiles, and savage men. How we survived it and won through is a mystery to me; but Dur-dan and Ras Thavas gave a good account of themselves with sword and dagger, and we came through almost to the flier without the loss of one of our number. Then, just the day before we reached it, Dur-dan was killed in a battle with some wild savages—the last we were to encounter in the Marshes. The journey between Morbus and Phundahl took up most of the time; but then, of course, we had to spend some time in Helium while Dejah Thoris was undergoing treatment. I felt convinced that you would pull through some way. You were powerful, intelligent, and resourceful; but I am afraid that my confidence would have been undermined had I known of what had happened in Vat Room No. 4.”

“It is a terrible catastrophe,” I said, “perhaps a world catastrophe, and as horrifying a sight as any that you have ever witnessed. There is no combatting it, for even if you cut it to pieces it continues to grow and to spread.”

That evening as I was walking on deck, I saw Janai standing alone at the rail.

Knowing how repulsive I must be to her I never forced my, company upon her; but this time she stopped me.

“Tor-dur-bar,” she said, “I wonder if I have ever adequately thanked you for all that you have done for me?”

“I want no thanks,” I said. “It is enough that I have been able to serve you and Vor Daj.”

She looked at me very closely. “What will it mean to you, Tor-dur-bar, if Vor Daj’s body is never recovered?”

“I shall have lost a friend,” I said.

“And you will come to Helium to live?”

“I do not know that I shall care to live,” I said.

“Why?” she demanded.

“Because there is no place in the world for such a hideous monster as I.”

“Do not say that, Tor-dur-bar,” she said, kindly. “You are not hideous, because you have a good heart. At first, before I knew you, I thought that you were hideous; but now, my friend, I see only the beauty and nobility of your character.”

That was very sweet of her, and I told her so; but it didn’t alter the fact that I was so hideous that I knew I should constantly be frightening women and children should I consent to go to Helium.

“Well, I think your appearance will make little difference in Helium,” she said, “for I am convinced that you will have many friends; but what is to become of me if Vor Daj is not rescued?”

“You need have no fear. John Carter will see to that.”

“But John Carter is under no obligation to me,” she insisted.

“Nevertheless, he will take care of you.”

“And you will come to see me, Tor-dur-bar?” she asked.

“If you wish me to,” I said; but I knew that Tor-dur-bar would never live to go to Helium.

She looked at me in silence and steadily for a moment, and then she said, “I know what is in your mind, Tor-dur-bar!” You will never come to Helium as you are; but now that Ras Thavas has returned, why can he not give your brain a new body, as he did for so many other less worthy hormads?”

“Perhaps,” I replied; “but where shall I find a body?”

“There is Vor Daj’s,” she said, in a whisper.

“You mean,” I said, “that you would like my brain in the body of Vor Daj?”

“Why not?” she asked. “It is your brain that has been my best and most loyal friend. Sytor told me that Vor Daj’s brain had been destroyed. Perhaps it has. If that is true, I know that he lied when he said that you caused it to be destroyed; for I know you better now and know that you would not have so wronged a friend; but if by chance it has been destroyed, what could be better for me than that the brain of my friend animate the body of one whom I so admired?”

“But wouldn’t you always say to yourself, ‘this body has the brain of a hormad? It is not Vor Daj; it is just a thing that grew in a Vat.’”

“No,” she replied. “I do not think that it would make any difference. I do not think that it would be difficult for me to convince myself that the brain and the body belonged together, just as, on the contrary, it has been difficult to conceive that the brain which animates the body of Tor-dur-bar originated in a vat of slimy, animal tissue.”

“If Ras Thavas should find me a handsome body,” I said, jokingly, “then Vor Daj would have a rival, I can assure you.”

She shot me a quizzical look. “I do not think so,” she said.

I wondered just what she meant by that and why she looked at me so peculiarly.

It was not likely that she had guessed the truth, since it was inconceivable that any man would have permitted his brain to be transferred to the body of a hormad. Could she have meant that Vor Daj could have no successful rival?

It was night when we approached the Great Toonolian Marshes. The great fleet sailed majestically over the City of Phundahl; the lighted city gleamed through the darkness below us, but no patrol boat ventured aloft to question us. Our ships were all lighted and must have been visible for a long time before we passed over the city; but Phundahl, weak in ships, would challenge no strange fleet the size of ours. I could well imagine that the Jed of Phundahl breathed more easily as we vanished into the eastern night.

Synthetic Men of Mars - Contents    |     Chapter XXX - The End of Two Worlds

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