Several of those who examined her felt her flesh, pinching it gently between thumb and forefinger, a familiarity that the girl resented. She struck down their hands. “Do not touch me!” she cried, imperiously, for was she not a princess of Helium? The expression on those terrible faces did not change. She could not tell whether they were angry or amused, whether her action had filled them with respect for her, or contempt. Only one of them spoke immediately.
“She will have to be fattened more,” he said.
The girl’s eyes went wide with horror. She turned upon her captor. “Do these frightful creatures intend to devour me?” she cried.
“That is for Luud to say,” he replied, and then he leaned closer so that his mouth was near her ear. “That noise you made which you called song pleased me,” he whispered, “and I will repay you by warning you not to antagonize these kaldanes. They are very powerful. Luud listens to them. Do not call them frightful. They are very handsome. Look at their wonderful trappings, their gold, their jewels.”
“Thank you,” she said. “You called them kaldanes—what does that mean?”
“We are all kaldanes,” he replied.
“You, too?” and she pointed at him, her slim finger directed toward his chest.
“No, not this,” he explained, touching his body; “this is a rykor; but this,” and he touched his head, “is a kaldane. It is the brain, the intellect, the power that directs all things. The rykor,” he indicated his body, “is nothing. It is not so much even as the jewels upon our harness; no, not so much as the harness itself. It carries us about. It is true that we would find difficulty getting along without it; but it has less value than harness or jewels because it is less difficult to reproduce.” He turned again to the other kaldanes. “Will you notify Luud that I am here?” he asked.
“Sept has already gone to Luud. He will tell him,” replied one. “Where did you find this rykor with the strange kaldane that cannot detach itself?”
The girl’s captor narrated once more the story of her capture. He stated facts just as they had occurred, without embellishment, his voice as expressionless as his face, and his story was received in the same manner that it was delivered. The creatures seemed totally lacking in emotion, or, at least, the capacity to express it. It was impossible to judge what impression the story made upon them, or even if they heard it. Their protruding eyes simply stared and occasionally the muscles of their mouths opened and closed. Familiarity did not lessen the horror the girl felt for them. The more she saw of them the more repulsive they seemed. Often her body was shaken by convulsive shudders as she looked at the kaldanes, but when her eyes wandered to the beautiful bodies and she could for a moment expunge the heads from her consciousness the effect was soothing and refreshing, though when the bodies lay, headless, upon the floor they were quite as shocking as the heads mounted on bodies. But by far the most grewsome and uncanny sight of all was that of the heads crawling about upon their spider legs. If one of these should approach and touch her Tara of Helium was positive that she should scream, while should one attempt to crawl up her person—ugh! the very idea induced a feeling of faintness.
Sept returned to the chamber. “Luud will see you and the captive. Come!” he said, and turned toward a door opposite that through which Tara of Helium had entered the chamber. “What is your name?” His question was directed to the girl’s captor.
“I am Ghek, third foreman of the fields of Luud,” he answered.
“I do not know.”
“It makes no difference. Come!”
The patrician brows of Tara of Helium went high. It made no difference, indeed! She, a princess of Helium; only daughter of The Warlord of Barsoom!
“Wait!” she cried. “It makes much difference who I am. If you are conducting me into the presence of your jed you may announce The Princess Tara of Helium, daughter of John Carter, The Warlord of Barsoom.”
“Hold your peace!” commanded Sept. “Speak when you are spoken to. Come with me!”
The anger of Tara of Helium all but choked her. “Come,” admonished Ghek, and took her by the arm, and Tara of Helium came. She was naught but a prisoner. Her rank and titles meant nothing to these inhuman monsters. They led her through a short, S-shaped passageway into a chamber entirely lined with the white, tile-like material with which the interior of the light wall was faced. Close to the base of the walls were numerous smaller apertures, circular in shape, but larger than those of similar aspect that she had noted elsewhere. The majority of these apertures were sealed. Directly opposite the entrance was one framed in gold, and above it a peculiar device was inlaid in the same precious metal.
Sept and Ghek halted just within the room, the girl between them, and all three stood silently facing the opening in the opposite wall. On the floor beside the aperture lay a headless male body of almost heroic proportions, and on either side of this stood a heavily armed warrior, with drawn sword. For perhaps five minutes the three waited and then something appeared in the opening. It was a pair of large chelae and immediately thereafter there crawled forth a hideous kaldane of enormous proportions. He was half again as large as any that Tara of Helium had yet seen and his whole aspect infinitely more terrible. The skin of the others was a bluish gray—this one was of a little bluer tinge and the eyes were ringed with bands of white and scarlet, as was its mouth.
From each nostril a band of white and one of scarlet extended outward horizontally the width of the face.
No one spoke or moved. The creature crawled to the prostrate body and affixed itself to the neck. Then the two rose as one and approached the girl. He looked at her and then he spoke to her captor.
“You are the third foreman of the fields of Luud?” he asked.
“Yes, Luud; I am called Ghek.”
“Tell me what you know of this,” and he nodded toward Tara of Helium.
Ghek did as he was bid and then Luud addressed the girl.
“What were you doing within the borders of Bantoom?” he asked.
“I was blown hither in a great storm that injured my flier and carried me I knew not where. I came down into the valley at night for food and drink. The banths came and drove me to the safety of a tree, and then your people caught me as I was trying to leave the valley. I do not know why they took me. I was doing no harm. All I ask is that you let me go my way in peace.”
“None who enters Bantoom ever leaves,” replied Luud.
“But my people are not at war with yours. I am a princess of Helium; my great-grandfather is a jeddak; my grandfather a jed; and my father is Warlord of all Barsoom. You have no right to keep me and I demand that you liberate me at once.”
“None who enters Bantoom ever leaves,” repeated the creature without expression. “I know nothing of the lesser creatures of Barsoom, of whom you speak. There is but one high race—the race of Bantoomians. All Nature exists to serve them. You shall do your share, but not yet—you are too skinny. We shall have to put some fat upon it, Sept. I tire of rykor. Perhaps this will have a different flavor. The banths are too rank and it is seldom that any other creature enters the valley. And you, Ghek; you shall be rewarded. I shall promote you from the fields to the burrows. Hereafter you shall remain underground as every Bantoomian longs to. No more shall you be forced to endure the hated sun, or look upon the hideous sky, or the hateful growing things that defile the surface. For the present you shall look after this thing that you have brought me, seeing that it sleeps and eats—and does nothing else. You understand me, Ghek; nothing else!”
“I understand, Luud,” replied the other.
“Take it away!” commanded the creature.
Ghek turned and led Tara of Helium from the apartment. The girl was horrified by contemplation of the fate that awaited her—a fate from which it seemed, there was no escape. It was only too evident that these creatures possessed no gentle or chivalric sentiments to which she could appeal, and that she might escape from the labyrinthine mazes of their underground burrows appeared impossible.
Outside the audience chamber Sept overtook them and conversed with Ghek for a brief period, then her keeper led her through a confusing web of winding tunnels until they came to a small apartment.
“We are to remain here for a while. It may be that Luud will send for you again. If he does you will probably not be fattened—he will use you for another purpose.” It was fortunate for the girl’s peace of mind that she did not realize what he meant. “Sing for me,” said Ghek, presently.
Tara of Helium did not feel at all like singing, but she sang, nevertheless, for there was always the hope that she might escape if given the opportunity and if she could win the friendship of one of the creatures, her chances would be increased proportionately. All during the ordeal, for such it was to the overwrought girl, Ghek stood with his eyes fixed upon her.
“It is wonderful,” he said, when she had finished; “but I did not tell Luud—you noticed that I did not tell Luud about it. Had he known, he would have had you sing to him and that would have resulted in your being kept with him that he might hear you sing whenever he wished; but now I can have you all the time.”
“How do you know he would like my singing?” she asked.
“He would have to,” replied Ghek. “If I like a thing he has to like it, for are we not identical—all of us?”
“The people of my race do not all like the same things,” said the girl.
“How strange!” commented Ghek. “All kaldanes like the same things and dislike the same things. If I discover something new and like it I know that all kaldanes will like it. That is how I know that Luud would like your singing. You see we are all exactly alike.”
“But you do not look like Luud,” said the girl.
“Luud is king. He is larger and more gorgeously marked; but otherwise he and I are identical, and why not? Did not Luud produce the egg from which I hatched?”
“What?” queried the girl; “I do not understand you.”
“Yes,” explained Ghek, “all of us are from Luud’s eggs, just as all the swarm of Moak are from Moak’s eggs.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Tara of Helium understandingly; “you mean that Luud has many wives and that you are the offspring of one of them.”
“No, not that at all,” replied Ghek. “Luud has no wife. He lays the eggs himself. You do not understand.”
Tara of Helium admitted that she did not.
“I will try to explain, then,” said Ghek, “if you will promise to sing to me later.”
“I promise,” she said.
“We are not like the rykors,” he began. “They are creatures of a low order, like yourself and the banths and such things. We have no sex—not one of us except our king, who is bi-sexual. He produces many eggs from which we, the workers and the warriors, are hatched; and one in every thousand eggs is another king egg, from which a king is hatched. Did you notice the sealed openings in the room where you saw Luud? Sealed in each of those is another king. If one of them escaped he would fall upon Luud and try to kill him and if he succeeded we should have a new king; but there would be no difference. His name would be Luud and all would go on as before, for are we not all alike? Luud has lived a long time and has produced many kings, so he lets only a few live that there may be a successor to him when he dies. The others he kills.”
“Why does he keep more than one?” queried the girl.
“Sometimes accidents occur,” replied Ghek, “and all the kings that a swarm has saved are killed. When this happens the swarm comes and obtains another king from a neighboring swarm.”
“Are all of you the children of Luud?” she asked.
“All but a few, who are from the eggs of the preceding king, as was Luud; but Luud has lived a long time and not many of the others are left.”
“You live a long time, or short?” Tara asked.
“A very long time.”
“And the rykors, too; they live a long time?”
“No; the rykors live for ten years, perhaps,” he said, “if they remain strong and useful. When they can no longer be of service to us, either through age or sickness, we leave them in the fields and the banths come at night and get them.”
“How horrible!” she exclaimed.
“Horrible?” he repeated. “I see nothing horrible about that. The rykors are but brainless flesh. They neither see, nor feel, nor hear. They can scarce move but for us. If we did not bring them food they would starve to death. They are less deserving of thought than our leather. All that they can do for themselves is to take food from a trough and put it in their mouths, but with us—look at them!” and he proudly exhibited the noble figure that he surmounted, palpitant with life and energy and feeling.
“How do you do it?” asked Tara of Helium. “I do not understand it at all.”
“I will show you,” he said, and lay down upon the floor. Then he detached himself from the body, which lay as a thing dead. On his spider legs he walked toward the girl. “Now look,” he admonished her. “Do you see this thing?” and he extended what appeared to be a bundle of tentacles from the posterior part of his head. “There is an aperture just back of the rykor’s mouth and directly over the upper end of his spinal column. Into this aperture I insert my tentacles and seize the spinal cord. Immediately I control every muscle of the rykor’s body—it becomes my own, just as you direct the movement of the muscles of your body. I feel what the rykor would feel if he had a head and brain. If he is hurt, I would suffer if I remained connected with him; but the instant one of them is injured or becomes sick we desert it for another. As we would suffer the pains of their physical injuries, similarly do we enjoy the physical pleasures of the rykors. When your body becomes fatigued you are comparatively useless; it is sick, you are sick; if it is killed, you die. You are the slave of a mass of stupid flesh and bone and blood. There is nothing more wonderful about your carcass than there is about the carcass of a banth. It is only your brain that makes you superior to the banth, but your brain is bound by the limitations of your body. Not so, ours. With us brain is everything. Ninety per centum of our volume is brain. We have only the simplest of vital organs and they are very small for they do not have to assist in the support of a complicated system of nerves, muscles, flesh and bone. We have no lungs, for we do not require air. Far below the levels to which we can take the rykors is a vast network of burrows where the real life of the kaldane is lived. There the air-breathing rykor would perish as you would perish. There we have stored vast quantities of food in hermetically sealed chambers. It will last forever. Far beneath the surface is water that will flow for countless ages after the surface water is exhausted. We are preparing for the time we know must come—the time when the last vestige of the Barsoomian atmosphere is spent—when the waters and the food are gone. For this purpose were we created, that there might not perish from the planet Nature’s divinest creation—the perfect brain.”