CHAPTER IX

Gods of Mars

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER IX, GODS OF MARS by Edgar R. Burroughs
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ISSUS, GODDESS OF LIFE ETERNAL


The confession of love which the girl's fright had wrung
from her touched me deeply; but it humiliated me as well,
since I felt that in some thoughtless word or act I had given
her reason to believe that I reciprocated her affection.

Never have I been much of a ladies' man, being more
concerned with fighting and kindred arts which have ever
seemed to me more befitting a man than mooning over a
scented glove four sizes too small for him, or kissing a dead
flower that has begun to smell like a cabbage. So I was quite
at a loss as to what to do or say. A thousand times rather face
the wild hordes of the dead sea bottoms than meet the eyes of this
beautiful young girl and tell her the thing that I must tell her.

But there was nothing else to be done, and so I did it.
Very clumsily too, I fear.

Gently I unclasped her hands from about my neck, and still
holding them in mine I told her the story of my love for
Dejah Thoris. That of all the women of two worlds that I had
known and admired during my long life she alone had I loved.

The tale did not seem to please her. Like a tigress she sprang,
panting, to her feet. Her beautiful face was distorted in an
expression of horrible malevolence. Her eyes fairly blazed into mine.

"Dog," she hissed. "Dog of a blasphemer! Think you that
Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang, supplicates? She commands.
What to her is your puny outer world passion for the vile
creature you chose in your other life?

"Phaidor has glorified you with her love, and you have
spurned her. Ten thousand unthinkably atrocious deaths
could not atone for the affront that you have put upon me.
The thing that you call Dejah Thoris shall die the most
horrible of them all. You have sealed the warrant for her doom.

"And you! You shall be the meanest slave in the service
of the goddess you have attempted to humiliate. Tortures
and ignominies shall be heaped upon you until you grovel
at my feet asking the boon of death.

"In my gracious generosity I shall at length grant your
prayer, and from the high balcony of the Golden Cliffs
I shall watch the great white apes tear you asunder."

She had it all fixed up. The whole lovely programme from
start to finish. It amazed me to think that one so divinely
beautiful could at the same time be so fiendishly vindictive.
It occurred to me, however, that she had overlooked one little
factor in her revenge, and so, without any intent to add to her
discomfiture, but rather to permit her to rearrange her plans
along more practical lines, I pointed to the nearest port-hole.

Evidently she had entirely forgotten her surroundings and
her present circumstances, for a single glance at the dark,
swirling waters without sent her crumpled upon a low bench,
where with her face buried in her arms she sobbed more like a
very unhappy little girl than a proud and all-powerful goddess.

Down, down we continued to sink until the heavy glass of
the port-holes became noticeably warm from the heat of
the water without. Evidently we were very far beneath
the surface crust of Mars.

Presently our downward motion ceased, and I could hear
the propellers swirling through the water at our stern and
forcing us ahead at high speed. It was very dark down there,
but the light from our port-holes, and the reflection from
what must have been a powerful searchlight on the submarine's
nose showed that we were forging through a narrow passage,
rock-lined, and tube-like.

After a few minutes the propellers ceased their whirring.
We came to a full stop, and then commenced to rise swiftly
toward the surface. Soon the light from without increased
and we came to a stop.

Xodar entered the cabin with his men.

"Come," he said, and we followed him through the hatchway
which had been opened by one of the seamen.

We found ourselves in a small subterranean vault, in the
centre of which was the pool in which lay our submarine,
floating as we had first seen her with only her black back showing.

Around the edge of the pool was a level platform, and then
the walls of the cave rose perpendicularly for a few feet
to arch toward the centre of the low roof. The walls
about the ledge were pierced with a number of entrances to
dimly lighted passageways.

Toward one of these our captors led us, and after a short
walk halted before a steel cage which lay at the bottom of a
shaft rising above us as far as one could see.

The cage proved to be one of the common types of elevator
cars that I had seen in other parts of Barsoom. They are
operated by means of enormous magnets which are suspended
at the top of the shaft. By an electrical device the volume of
magnetism generated is regulated and the speed of the car varied.

In long stretches they move at a sickening speed, especially on
the upward trip, since the small force of gravity inherent to Mars
results in very little opposition to the powerful force above.

Scarcely had the door of the car closed behind us than
we were slowing up to stop at the landing above, so rapid
was our ascent of the long shaft.

When we emerged from the little building which houses
the upper terminus of the elevator, we found ourselves
in the midst of a veritable fairyland of beauty.
The combined languages of Earth men hold no words to
convey to the mind the gorgeous beauties of the scene.

One may speak of scarlet sward and ivory-stemmed trees
decked with brilliant purple blooms; of winding walks paved
with crushed rubies, with emerald, with turquoise, even with
diamonds themselves; of a magnificent temple of burnished
gold, hand-wrought with marvellous designs; but where are
the words to describe the glorious colours that are unknown
to earthly eyes? where the mind or the imagination that
can grasp the gorgeous scintillations of unheard-of rays as
they emanate from the thousand nameless jewels of Barsoom?

Even my eyes, for long years accustomed to the barbaric
splendours of a Martian Jeddak's court, were amazed at the
glory of the scene.

Phaidor's eyes were wide in amazement.

"The Temple of Issus," she whispered, half to herself.

Xodar watched us with his grim smile, partly of amusement
and partly malicious gloating.

The gardens swarmed with brilliantly trapped black men
and women. Among them moved red and white females
serving their every want. The places of the outer world and
the temples of the therns had been robbed of their princesses
and goddesses that the blacks might have their slaves.

Through this scene we moved toward the temple. At the
main entrance we were halted by a cordon of armed guards.
Xodar spoke a few words to an officer who came forward to
question us. Together they entered the temple, where they
remained for some time.

When they returned it was to announce that Issus desired
to look upon the daughter of Matai Shang, and the strange
creature from another world who had been a Prince of Helium.

Slowly we moved through endless corridors of unthinkable
beauty; through magnificent apartments, and noble halls.
At length we were halted in a spacious chamber in the centre
of the temple. One of the officers who had accompanied us
advanced to a large door in the further end of the chamber.
Here he must have made some sort of signal for immediately
the door opened and another richly trapped courtier emerged.

We were then led up to the door, where we were directed to get
down on our hands and knees with our backs toward the room we
were to enter. The doors were swung open and after being
cautioned not to turn our heads under penalty of instant
death we were commanded to back into the presence of Issus.

Never have I been in so humiliating a position in my life,
and only my love for Dejah Thoris and the hope which still
clung to me that I might again see her kept me from rising to
face the goddess of the First Born and go down to my
death like a gentleman, facing my foes and with their blood
mingling with mine.

After we had crawled in this disgusting fashion for a matter
of a couple of hundred feet we were halted by our escort.

"Let them rise," said a voice behind us; a thin, wavering
voice, yet one that had evidently been accustomed to command
for many years.

"Rise," said our escort, "but do not face toward Issus."

"The woman pleases me," said the thin, wavering voice again
after a few moments of silence. "She shall serve me the
allotted time. The man you may return to the Isle of Shador
which lies against the northern shore of the Sea of Omean.
Let the woman turn and look upon Issus, knowing that those
of the lower orders who gaze upon the holy vision of her
radiant face survive the blinding glory but a single year."

I watched Phaidor from the corner of my eye. She paled
to a ghastly hue. Slowly, very slowly she turned, as though
drawn by some invisible yet irresistible force. She was
standing quite close to me, so close that her bare arm touched
mine as she finally faced Issus, Goddess of Life Eternal.

I could not see the girl's face as her eyes rested for the first
time on the Supreme Deity of Mars, but felt the shudder that ran
through her in the trembling flesh of the arm that touched mine.

"It must be dazzling loveliness indeed," thought I, "to
cause such emotion in the breast of so radiant a beauty
as Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang."

"Let the woman remain. Remove the man. Go." Thus
spoke Issus, and the heavy hand of the officer fell upon my
shoulder. In accordance with his instructions I dropped to
my hands and knees once more and crawled from the Presence.
It had been my first audience with deity, but I am free
to confess that I was not greatly impressed--other than with
the ridiculous figure I cut scrambling about on my marrow bones.

Once without the chamber the doors closed behind us and
I was bid to rise. Xodar joined me and together we slowly
retraced our steps toward the gardens.

"You spared my life when you easily might have taken it,"
he said after we had proceeded some little way in silence,
"and I would aid you if I might. I can help to make your
life here more bearable, but your fate is inevitable.
You may never hope to return to the outer world."

"What will be my fate?" I asked.

"That will depend largely upon Issus. So long as she does not
send for you and reveal her face to you, you may live on for
years in as mild a form of bondage as I can arrange for you."

"Why should she send for me?" I asked.

"The men of the lower orders she often uses for various
purposes of amusement. Such a fighter as you, for example,
would render fine sport in the monthly rites of the temple.
There are men pitted against men, and against beasts for the
edification of Issus and the replenishment of her larder."

"She eats human flesh?" I asked. Not in horror, however,
for since my recently acquired knowledge of the Holy Therns
I was prepared for anything in this still less accessible heaven,
where all was evidently dictated by a single omnipotence;
where ages of narrow fanaticism and self-worship had eradicated
all the broader humanitarian instincts that the race might
once have possessed.

They were a people drunk with power and success, looking
upon the other inhabitants of Mars as we look upon the
beasts of the field and the forest. Why then should they not
eat of the flesh of the lower orders whose lives and characters
they no more understood than do we the inmost thoughts and
sensibilities of the cattle we slaughter for our earthly tables.

"She eats only the flesh of the best bred of the Holy Therns
and the red Barsoomians. The flesh of the others goes to our
boards. The animals are eaten by the slaves. She also eats
other dainties."

I did not understand then that there lay any special significance
in his reference to other dainties. I thought the limit of
ghoulishness already had been reached in the recitation of
Issus' menu. I still had much to learn as to the depths of
cruelty and bestiality to which omnipotence may drag its possessor.

We had about reached the last of the many chambers and corridors
which led to the gardens when an officer overtook us.

"Issus would look again upon this man," he said. "The girl has
told her that he is of wondrous beauty and of such prowess that
alone he slew seven of the First Born, and with his bare hands
took Xodar captive, binding him with his own harness."

Xodar looked uncomfortable. Evidently he did not relish
the thought that Issus had learned of his inglorious defeat.

Without a word he turned and we followed the officer
once again to the closed doors before the audience chamber
of Issus, Goddess of Life Eternal.

Here the ceremony of entrance was repeated. Again Issus
bid me rise. For several minutes all was silent as the tomb.
The eyes of deity were appraising me.

Presently the thin wavering voice broke the stillness,
repeating in a singsong drone the words which for
countless ages had sealed the doom of numberless victims.

"Let the man turn and look upon Issus, knowing that those
of the lower orders who gaze upon the holy vision of her
radiant face survive the blinding glory but a single year."

I turned as I had been bid, expecting such a treat as only
the revealment of divine glory to mortal eyes might produce.
What I saw was a solid phalanx of armed men between myself
and a dais supporting a great bench of carved sorapus
wood. On this bench, or throne, squatted a female black.
She was evidently very old. Not a hair remained upon her
wrinkled skull. With the exception of two yellow fangs she
was entirely toothless. On either side of her thin, hawk-like
nose her eyes burned from the depths of horribly sunken
sockets. The skin of her face was seamed and creased with
a million deepcut furrows. Her body was as wrinkled as her
face, and as repulsive.

Emaciated arms and legs attached to a torso which seemed
to be mostly distorted abdomen completed the "holy vision
of her radiant beauty."

Surrounding her were a number of female slaves, among
them Phaidor, white and trembling.

"This is the man who slew seven of the First Born and, bare-handed,
bound Dator Xodar with his own harness?" asked Issus.

"Most glorious vision of divine loveliness, it is," replied the
officer who stood at my side.

"Produce Dator Xodar," she commanded.

Xodar was brought from the adjoining room.

Issus glared at him, a baleful light in her hideous eyes.

"And such as you are a Dator of the First Born?" she squealed.
"For the disgrace you have brought upon the Immortal
Race you shall be degraded to a rank below the lowest.
No longer be you a Dator, but for evermore a slave of slaves,
to fetch and carry for the lower orders that serve in the gardens
of Issus. Remove his harness. Cowards and slaves wear no trappings."

Xodar stood stiffly erect. Not a muscle twitched, nor a
tremor shook his giant frame as a soldier of the guard
roughly stripped his gorgeous trappings from him.

"Begone," screamed the infuriated little old woman. "Begone,
but instead of the light of the gardens of Issus let you
serve as a slave of this slave who conquered you in the
prison on the Isle of Shador in the Sea of Omean. Take him
away out of the sight of my divine eyes."

Slowly and with high held head the proud Xodar turned
and stalked from the chamber. Issus rose and turned to leave
the room by another exit.

Turning to me, she said: "You shall be returned to Shador
for the present. Later Issus will see the manner of your
fighting. Go." Then she disappeared, followed by her retinue.
Only Phaidor lagged behind, and as I started to follow my
guard toward the gardens, the girl came running after me.

"Oh, do not leave me in this terrible place," she begged.
"Forgive the things I said to you, my Prince. I did not
mean them. Only take me away with you. Let me share
your imprisonment on Shador." Her words were an almost
incoherent volley of thoughts, so rapidly she spoke.
"You did not understand the honour that I did you. Among the
therns there is no marriage or giving in marriage, as among the
lower orders of the outer world. We might have lived together
for ever in love and happiness. We have both looked upon
Issus and in a year we die. Let us live that year at least
together in what measure of joy remains for the doomed."

"If it was difficult for me to understand you, Phaidor," I
replied, "can you not understand that possibly it is equally
difficult for you to understand the motives, the customs
and the social laws that guide me? I do not wish to hurt
you, nor to seem to undervalue the honour which you have
done me, but the thing you desire may not be. Regardless
of the foolish belief of the peoples of the outer world, or of
Holy Thern, or ebon First Born, I am not dead. While I
live my heart beats for but one woman--the incomparable
Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium. When death overtakes me
my heart shall have ceased to beat; but what comes after
that I know not. And in that I am as wise as Matai Shang,
Master of Life and Death upon Barsoom; or Issus, Goddess
of Life Eternal."

Phaidor stood looking at me intently for a moment. No
anger showed in her eyes this time, only a pathetic expression
of hopeless sorrow.

"I do not understand," she said, and turning walked slowly in
the direction of the door through which Issus and her retinue
had passed. A moment later she had passed from my sight.