Chapter Text
Hello there, curious reader. My name is Catrina Dale and boy, do I have a tale to tell you!
First, a little about me, so you can envision me and all of my goings on: I am a single woman in my mid thirties, of average height, just under 5’6”, long limbed and small waisted, with a touch of muscle definition due to years of martial arts training and practice, which I will touch on again in a moment. I’m fair skinned—never could hold a tan—with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that have little flecks of gray in them, which I got from my father. When it comes to my temperament, pretty much an open book, eager to chat, make new friends, and help others out if I can.
Currently, I live on the east coast of the United States, and I’m writing this at the turn of the twenty-first century…on Earth, where I’ve returned temporarily in order to share my exceedingly strange and wonderful experiences for any who may be interested in reading them. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? To make a point of mentioning that I’m writing this from planet Earth? Well, you ain’t read nothin’ yet…
Some people believe in destiny. Others, in the unavoidable cause and effect of butterfly wings. But whether you believe in such things or not, the order of events in my life…those circumstances, choices, and consequences that eventually took me to another world…well, they may just make you seriously consider such fantastical ideas as real possibilities.
That is, if you choose to believe any of the wild tale that I’m about to tell you…
Attempting to trace events back to a true beginning can be difficult. There are so many factors to consider. So many forks in the road of my life, as well as in the paths of those involved, that moved each event forward.
For me, I’d say the first thing to turn my life in this odd direction was an unpleasant event that took place when I was about six years old.
My mother and I lived in a small apartment, which was not located in the best part of town. Our life together was typical of a struggling, single-parent home. But we were happy, and I never felt I wanted for anything. The love and attention my mother gave to me kept me satisfied in all aspects of my childhood. I was a creative child, preferring to be indoors drawing, reading, and occasionally disassembling certain toys in order to figure out how they worked. I was ever inquisitive, but not in a particularly destructive way. Although getting those dismantled toys back together after my investigations often proved impossible.
On this particular, harrowing day, my mother’s car was in the shop. She had walked to my school, which was not too far from our apartment, to pick me up and bring me home. On our way back, a man attacked us. My mother fought back, but this only made the man more violent toward both of us. Thankfully, a Good Samaritan intervened and neither of us were seriously hurt. We were left with a few bumps and bruises, but my mother was never the same! The following day, she signed up for self-defense classes and within a week, she had me enrolled in beginner’s Karate.
And boy, I loved Karate! And I excelled at it, too! As I got into my pre-teens, I expressed interest in sword fighting and other disciplines such as Jeet Kune Do, the unique fighting style of my idol, Bruce Lee. My mother was quite happy about my interest, and did all she could to get me the training that I desired, despite the expense. She sacrificed so much for my happiness, and admittedly, for my safety, too.
At the age of twelve, I got a new instructor, Joe Ayres. A handsome guy in his early twenties who I quickly developed a little crush on. One day, just as the class commenced, Joe tossed his backpack onto his desk and a book slid out of one of the pockets, landing just so that its cover faced precisely in my direction.
I was captivated! I couldn’t take my eyes off of that cover! From my distance, the image on the front looked like a man and a big green creature fighting a hoard of blue guys with dreadlocks. I couldn’t make out the title, but the style of the artwork, the colors, and the positions of the fighters mesmerized me.
Once we were done with our class, I made a beeline for that book! As I drew closer, I could read the title, “Gods of Mars” and my heart skipped a beat. I lifted it into my eager grasp and discovered that the blue men weren’t really men at all, but the strangest creatures I’d ever seen, with medusa-like hair, a single eye in the center of their ‘faces’, and what looked like mouths in the palms of their hands. And that tall, green man was almost as odd as they were, with his four arms, tusks, and his massive height! That handsome man on the cover, which I now noticed was entirely naked, and the huge green one, were both backed up against a large, white, rock, and their plight looked quite hopeless as those blue things swarmed all around them.
“That’s John Carter there.” Joe pointed from over my shoulder, “The naked guy, fighting the Plantmen with his friend Tars Tarkas.”
“I wanna read it!” I replied with gusto.
“Well, you’ll have to read the first one first. It’s called A Princess of Mars.” He replied with a huge grin as I nodded enthusiastically.
***
When I arrived the following week for our next class, three paperbacks had been stacked on the counter beside Joe’s backpack. I looked at him as he approached with a smile. “Those are yours.” He beamed, “The first one there has a card in it for the bookstore where you can get the other eight books. Yep, there are eleven altogether.”
Wow, eleven books! I was super jazzed! I had a feeling I was going to really like these stories, just by the images on the covers and what Joe had told me about them. I always hated when a story I loved came to an end. So discovering there loads of books in that series had me over the moon! The paperbacks he gave me were used, but in nice condition. I found the fact they weren’t new also intriguing! I’d never been given a used book before. My mother and other family had always bought me new books. I wondered who had owned them before Joe, and what their history was. I slipped the card out of the book and it read, “The Book Mine” in simple block text. I recognized the street name as one that was not far from our apartment.
The covers of the other two books were just as enthralling as the Gods of Mars, especially that first one, A Princess of Mars! The handsome man, John Carter, carrying the beautiful princess into an ornate building surrounded by a throng of those huge green, four-armed men.
“Thank you!” I gasped in awe, staring at those covers, itching to crack open those stories as soon as I got home.
Joe simply laughed and squeezed my shoulder. “It’s quite a ride. I’m sure you’ll have a blast!”
***
From the very first sentence I was hooked! I gobbled up those three books so fast it was a matter of days before I was begging my mother to take me to “The Book Mine” to buy the rest of the series. Thrilled to see me so enthusiastic about a classic writer’s work, my mother compiled.
The Book Mine looked really tiny from the front. Shoved between two other retail spaces, which were both unoccupied, its front was only wide enough for its narrow door and the two slightly wider windows that flanked it. The signs posted in those windows bore either roughly handwritten, or badly printed messages on letter-size paper. They stated things like specials, new and used, and new arrivals. We stepped into the lowly lit front area and were greeted by an old, shriveled man. He clasped his gnarly hands together excitedly and introduced himself as Henry Taft. And when we asked where to find the Edgar Rice Burroughs books, he gleefully led us through another narrow doorway into a labyrinth of tightly spaced bookshelves. This area was huge! The store was quite narrow, but very deep! None of those shelves were identical to their brothers. There were some store-bought shelves, and some that looked to have been built by hand. All were well worn and filled to brimming with every kind of book imaginable.
I absolutely loved The Book Mine! It was like a wonderland with its twists and turns, myriad colorful book covers, and spines, and the smell of old paper and wood! Over the years, I would spend many hours there, rifling through the huge collections and getting lost in the old man’s labyrinth. The Book Mine became my favorite place to spend my spare time, and Henry became one of my favorite people. He was a huge fan of the works of Edgar Rice Burroughs, and we shared many an hour talking about every little detail of those wild tales. Henry must not have been as old as he had seemed when I was so young, because he was there every time I visited up until I got into my mid twenties.
Over the years, I read loads of science fiction as well as non-fiction science books, mostly on astronomy and physics. It may seem naive to most, but the Barsoom stories of Edgar Rice Burroughs, my very favorite of the lot, struck a real cord in me. Something in them made me want to believe that they were true accounts. That there had been a real Captain Jack Carter from Virginia, and that he was now living with his beloved Dejah Thoris on Barsoom! No science book or television show about Mars ever could entirely put me off of this deep-seated belief.
Whenever I read or saw news of the exploration of Mars, I always wished to hear the incredible revelation that the skeletons of very tall, four-armed men with tusks had been discovered beneath the dusty red hills. Or that otherworldly giant bird fossils were unearthed at the edge of huge, dried up waterways. Perhaps the dilapidated remnants of an ancient atmosphere plant might be found hidden beneath giant heaps of red dirt and rocks.
But as the “fictional” lead in the Martian tales, John Carter, once said, and I paraphrase here: 'The tales are so fantastic that no one would believe them to be true.’ Well, certainly not everyone did. But me? Deep in my heart of hearts, I believed in them… Of course, I never did share those thoughts with anyone else, but I held them tightly in my heart as if waiting for confirmation, someday.
And oh did I dream of Barsoom! At one stage of my live, during my teen years and into my early twenties, I dreamed nearly every night about the red planet and all of its denizens—all of the wondrous people, creatures, and places that John Carter and others had encountered. In my dreams I had been to Helium and to Thark! I’d walked the infamous Valley Dor and wandered the forests of the ice-clad north! I lived all of my waking hours waiting for the night, so anxious for sleep and dreaming that I rushed to bed when others my age were getting dressed to go out for a fun, social evening. But slowly, that intense period of lucid dreaming passed, and “real life” took over.
Years flew by, and as happens to all of us, schedules and commitments interrupted my heady times of enjoyment. I got very busy as several years passed between my reading of the Barsoomian tales, and my visits to The Book Mine. Before I knew it, I had turned twenty-eight, was still single, and working full-time. It was then that I realized I missed those stories, missed The Book Mine, and old Henry!
Leaving work one day, I decided, instead of heading home, that I would drop by and say hello to the old man and see what new treasures he might have in stock.
As I pulled up to park in front of the shop. I frowned. There were new, color signs posted on the windows stating things like, “DEEP DISCOUNTS” and “EVERYTHING GOES”. I stepped inside to find a middle-aged man whom I had never seen before, bent over a collection of book-filled boxes. He turned as I entered, and told me Henry had died the previous week. He shook my hand and introduces himself as Tom, Henry’s son. I offered my condolences, my heart heavy, for I would miss old Henry very much, and I wished I’d been back sooner to see him one last time before he passed. Henry’s son recognized my name. Apparently, his father had told him about me.
“Pick some things and you can have them.” He offered. “I’m not having a lot of luck selling this stuff, and I know my dad would want you to have whatever you liked.”
I smiled, thanked him, and began to search the mostly empty shelves with a heavy heart. Where had the majority of Henry’s books gone? I had an idea of that. Most of the books I now saw were in excellent conditions. Those more worn copies, or the ones missing their covers, were all gone. I was sure that his son had simply thrown them away. I wanted to cry as I wandered what was left of the labyrinth of shelves in a bit of a trance. Eventually, I found myself at the very back of the shop where old Henry’s office door stood open. It was my first peek into his private area, which he had always kept closed.
The room was nearly empty, no furniture remained, only a handful of boxes clustered together in the center of the room. I felt a strong sense of urging, by some strange force, to peek inside those boxes. I was not one to intrude where I had never been invited before, but it was beyond my ability to stay on the outside of that room! A moment later, I found myself on my knees digging through those boxes. The largest one was filled with papers, and what appeared to be personal journals with names I didn’t recognize.
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when Henry’s son spoke from the doorway, “My dad had an affinity for collecting stranger’s personal diaries and other paperwork. I’ll never understand it. Maybe he was a bit of a voyeur.” He laughed. “He traveled all over the world when he was younger, collecting this stuff. He’s got a huge storage unit full of it, too! I haven’t got any idea what I’m going to do with it.” He sighed.
As Tom regaled me with his father’s eccentricities, my hand fell on something in that box that felt like wood. I carefully lifted it from the pile of papers and journals. It was a box of medium size, measuring approximately twenty-four inches wide by fourteen inches deep, by about a foot tall. It had a lock on it that was obviously antique, and beneath the lock were the initials, E.R.B.!
My heart leaped into my throat.
“Let me grab a screwdriver and we’ll see what’s in that thing.” Tom said, before leaving me there with that mysterious box in my lap. I felt the strangest excitement as I waited for Tom to return. E.R.B., the initials of my favorite author, Edgar Rice Burroughs! Could it possibly be?
Tom let me do the dirty work. I wanted to get it open, but I didn’t want to damage it either, so I worked on it for a few minutes, only adding a little, minor damage to the already well-worn lock mechanism. Suddenly, there was a loud cracking sound and the lock sprung free. I lifted the lid, with Tom hovering over me. Inside were papers, some drawings, a very worn journal, and a few other small, handmade books. “Looks like more personal journals.” I said.
I glanced up at Tom who shrugged. He was obviously unimpressed. “Too bad. I was hoping for some money or wild treasure!” He half joked, but I could tell by his face that he cared not one iota about any journals or papers.
To satisfy him that there were no hidden valuables inside the box, I flipped through each book and uncovered the layers as he watched.
“You want that?” He said finally. “Yea.” I replied, as nonchalantly as I could. My heart was pounding ninety miles a minute. The images I was seeing and fleeting words I’d noticed had me desperate to leave with that box, and to read every last word written on those mysterious papers!
“It’s yours, then.” Tom waved his hand dismissively and strode out of the room and back to his organizing. I took a deep, steadying breath and gathered the papers carefully back into the box, swallowing hard as I shut that creaky old lid over them again. On my way out I grabbed a couple of other books that looked mildly interesting, just so as not to leave with only that box, and paid Tom a meager sum for my little collection.
The next weeks were spent pouring over the full contents of that chest! At first I had thought maybe these were Mr. Burroughs’ notes, and plans for writing his books. But by god, they were so much more!
If you haven’t already come to the conclusion from my cryptic teases and mad excitement, yes, the box actually contained the personal journal of John Carter of Virginia! It contained his drawings, diagrams, roughly-scribbled maps, and papers dealing with everything from his estate to his “dying” wishes. I was mesmerized by the details, some slightly different from the books I knew so well. Many details were not even in those books, and they shed so much light on the very real events that John Carter experienced. Oh yes, real. I knew all of this was real, and not fiction! I stared for hours at John Carter’s drawings, especially the one of Dejah Thoris.
I cannot express in words the beauty of that simple drawing. The man was an artist, if not a trained one. I could see his beautiful princess in my minds eye more vividly now than I ever had via all of the descriptions in those “fictional” stories that I’d read again and again since childhood.
Once I’d studied everything that box contained at least twenty times, it hit me! I must find that cave in Arizona! With the notes now in my possession, and many clues to go on at my disposal, there was only one path for me to follow. I would find that cave, and I would find a way to travel, as John Carter had, to Barsoom!
***
I uprooted my life without hesitation and moved to Arizona within six months of making my decision. I got a job there as a Karate instructor, and became friends with my boss, and fellow instructor, Horus Stain. Horus and I hit it off instantly. And as happens with many great friendships, it was humor that first brought us together.
I felt I’d known Horus my entire life. He was a big man, large of heart and of physical proportions. Well over six feet tall, he had a boxy build and hands the size of dinner plates. Ok, that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but the man was big! And he was all muscle. Like one of those strong-men you might see at a circus. We made quite a pair when we were out together. Me, of slight build, and Horus, a bulky and imposing figure.
Horus and I never dated. It was not that kind of relationship. I knew he had feelings for me, but even though I loved him dearly, I didn’t find myself sharing that kind of emotion toward him. Horus was a rare man. One who cherished our deep friendship and didn’t abandon it when his romantic feelings weren’t reciprocated.
The following seven years or so I spent most of my spare time hiking and hunting in the Arizona hills. Horus wondered why I was often unreachable on weekends, and I told him I was doing a bit of treasure hunting based on some info a good friend had given to me. He was puzzled, but accepted my odd recreation. He even came along with me on a few of my outings, though I had already decided that if I happened to find that cave while he was with me, I’d keep it to myself until I could return to investigate further on my own. I just didn’t feel right dragging him along on what might be a bizarre adventure that he wouldn’t want to be involved in. And, telling him what was motivating me, well, there was no way I was going to do that until I could confirm it was all real and not just wild fantasy!
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Horus. But I was pretty sure he wouldn’t understand my trying to find a cave with the secrets I needed to transport myself to another world! I could find no way to be honest with him about what I was doing and why. I had tried to illicit interest in him to read the Barsoomian novels. But he wasn’t a big reader, and he didn’t respond to my encouragements. I had thought, if maybe he did read them then someday, I might be able to fess up to him about my beliefs and true purpose in Arizona. But it was not to be, at least not at that stage.
As it turned out, I was alone on one of these outings with my notes and ongoing hand-drawn map, when it finally happened. I’m finding it difficult to put into words the feelings I experienced that late afternoon when I stepped into that dark cave and my eyes slowly adjusted to the stagnant gloom. Deep shadows and shapes, barely lit by the waning sun, oh so slowly came into focus. I had moved several yards into the cave and paused. Then I close my eyes to try and speed up the adjustment to the darkness. When I opened them I could see a bit better. Ahead of me were, what seemed to be, human-shaped silhouettes, or one silhouette, and other shapes that looked like heads. Maybe? Tentatively I inched deeper into that stygian darkness.
A skeletal figure sat hunched forward. It was now mere feet ahead of me. Before it sat a bowl-shaped object, rotten and covered in dust. There were remnants of ropes hung from the ceiling and as I blinked that final adjustment to the darkness away, I saw crumbled bones and the ragged remains of what appeared to be an old woman’s robes.
I realized after a moment that I’d been holding my breath, my heart a veritable jack-hammer in my chest, the perspiration running into my eyes as I gaped!
Holy heavens! This was it! I’d found it!
Now, what was I to do? I drew in a deep breath to steady my giddiness. I apologize, but must be a little cryptic at this point, because as Mr. Burroughs had handled his uncle’s secrets so deftly, hiding them within fictional stories and yet still not divulging certain details, I knew it was best to follow his lead in that regard. I cannot describe to you exactly what happened next, except to say that events played themselves out much the same as they had for Captain Carter those many years before…
After…doing what I did…I was overcome with such dizziness that I stumbled away from the gruesome bones before me, turning in my unsteadiness, then falling onto my side. I could see through the cave opening, up in the sky, the red planet hanging in the heavens as vividly as I’d ever seen it. My heart raced and my mind whirled, when suddenly I realized that I was somehow emitting my own light! I was glowing, and a beam shot out from me that stretched up and up in the direction of Mars! My mind then slipped into a strange kind of perception, as if all that existed outside of that preternatural glow did not actually exist. The only things real to me in that moment were myself, that glow, and the bright, beckoning red planet.
Oh, and how my spirit soared then! Was this it? Was it finally happening for me? I tried to lift my arms and reach for the red orb, but I found, as Captain Carter had, that I could not move.
Then that light, or more like something that was beyond simple light, became so intense that it seared my very soul, and in that instant, my stimulated mind shot back to the many times I had dreamed of Mars. Those visions played through my whirling consciousness just as one might describe their life passing before their eyes during a near-death experience.
On and off, the cave faded from my consciousness. At one point, I found myself lying in the soft, yellow foliage of a dead sea bottom. My mind still spinning as I struggled desperately to come fully awake. I forced my heavy eyelids open, time and again, seeing the scene before me exactly as John Carter had described it so many times: the soft, plant-covered sea bottom spreading out for miles before me, hemmed in by tall majestic hills. I even caught the briefest glimpse of the two Barsoomian moons hanging in the radiant Martian sky.
But then, when I finally, fully opened my tired eyes, instead of finding myself on the surface of Barsoom, I was back in the cave, lying beside that morbid effigy of death, surrounded by that strange glare, and unable to move a muscle. I struggled with all my might to sit up. But that weird light-energy continued to undulate around me until my vision tunneled dramatically, then…
Snap!
That sound… exactly as John Carter had described it! Then all sensations dropped away from me and I found myself thrust into utter blackness. The darkness was so complete that I could gain no sensation of direction or boundaries of self. The only feeling was of movement. Very fast movement, but without the customary rush of wind or any sense of direction lent to it.
Then, as suddenly as that blackness had overtaken me, my eyes flew open, and I was completely awake, with no adjustment, no fuzziness of mind or stiffness of limbs, just sudden and complete consciousness.
And ohhhh, how my heart filled with the rapture over where I was! My eyes grew wide and my mouth hung agape at the sight before me. I had made it! I was finally there! I had arrived on the strange and magnificent Barsoom!
***
I barely had a chance to get my bearings and take in the wonders that surrounded me when a small little squat creature with ten short legs, large eyes, and a mouth somewhat similar to a frog, wandered curiously up to me. I recognized it immediately and gasped with amazement at the sight of the little calot as it scooted from side to side, eyeing me with wary confusion. Its blinking eyes and shuffling feet gave it the appearance of indecision and childlike innocence.
Obviously, by its size—only just as big as a medium-sized dog—it had to be a baby, and I instantly fell helplessly in love with the peculiar little creature.
John Carter spoke so warmly about his beloved Woola, his huge, hideous, yet fiercely loyal Martian dog. Woola was my very favorite character in all the Barsoomian tales, and to have a little calot be the first native of Mars that I had the privilege of meeting, well, I thought that was just the perfect way to begin what was sure to be quite an adventure.
With a smile, I said hello to my newfound friend. While at the same instant coming to awareness of my nakedness as I slowly sat up in the soft cushion of growth beneath me. Scarcely had I begun to consider how to remedy my lack of clothing, when my little minder wheeled around at a noise that issued from a stretch of oddly colored trees not to far away, but almost out of my line of sight. Strange sounds issues from the small creature, and it backed up against me. I rested my hand on its back protectively. Just then, a green-skinned Martian came dashing out of the trees toward us. Again, this specimen was smaller than I would have expected, taking John Carter’s descriptions into account. He was only about as tall as I, so he, too, must have been a youth, because those green men were towering things!
But wow! It was so incredible seeing this being for real. Plucked right out of my mind’s eye after years of imagining what it would really look like. The four arms, long muscular legs, remarkable face with its wide, outward set eyes that moved independently of each other, and the tusks jutting up from the lower jaw—so peculiar, and yet utterly fascinating!
It was plain to see by the Martian’s unusual build how, if necessary, the lower pair of arms could be used as either arms or legs, whatever the creature deemed necessary. Though from what I had read, it seemed most of the time they were not utilized as a second pair of legs.
A fierce creature, this was, that came rushing toward me. It may seem that I remained frozen in shock as I write this description, but that is not the case at all. As soon as my eyes and mind took stock of my situation, which was only mere seconds, I leapt to my feet. But as John Carter described, moving on the surface of Mars, with its lower gravity made my small jerk of a movement manifest in a much larger and unexpected way.
With a squeal of surprise I flew up into the air and backwards, landing maybe about twenty feet from my little calot and the approaching green youth. Getting to my feet afterwards, I found it difficult to maneuver under those new conditions, and with a little laugh I thought again of John Carter, now my mentor, as I adjusted to the strange environment. He had mentioned that, in order to acclimate to the difference in gravity, he “creeped” instead of walked, so that’s what I attempted to do, shuffling my feet whenever I needed to move.
My concern now was for my little calot, as I got my bearings and eagerly looked back in the direction I’d flown from. There was a bit of a ruckus over there. The Thark was now on the ground, but I couldn’t make out what was happening and I could not stand idly by. I simply had to go back and make sure my little creature was ok. So I crept as swiftly as my awkwardness would allow me, and came upon quite a scene.
In the very short time it had taken me to make my way back, I was shocked to find that my little calot had torn that young green Martian literally to shreds! The youth lay in a mess of blood, leaking from its many wounds, and it didn’t seem to be breathing as I cautiously approached.
Hearing my barely-audible shuffle, the little calot turned from its victim and bound gingerly in my direction. It stood close enough to let its back end rest against my lower legs. There were a few scratches on its small, muscular body, but nothing that seemed too severe. Obviously, most of the blood that stained it belonged to its victim. I bent and lovingly scratched its thick neck and chuckled to myself when it issued a little purring-like sound. Still, seeing such brutality, it surprises me now, looking back, that I was not more affected by it. Instead, I felt a sense of calmness, even peace, being on the red planet.
Naked as I was, I decided to take the harness from the green youth and put it on. I cleaned it best I could manage, using the leafy foliage, the donned it. It fit a little oddly. The length was not quite right, so that the waist strap sat a bit low on me, which was actually good because it covered me where I’d prefer not to be exposed. The straps that went over the shoulders and crossed on the chest were just wide enough to cover my breasts sufficiently. But still, being barely clothed in the basic leather straps of a green Martian was an odd feeling indeed. I was not one to go around scantily clad during my life on earth, so it was both awkward and a bit freeing to be outfitted in such a way on this utterly foreign world.
As I finished dressing, a larger disturbance of the bush erupted where the youth had previously emerged, which made my calot antsy again, and also put me on high alert. Knowing that I could jump a great distance, and therefore sufficiently move away from who, or whatever was headed our way, I scooped up my little puppy and dashed away from the ruined green youth’s body.
I covered a safe distance very quickly, if a bit awkwardly. But I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to observe whatever creature, or creatures, might present themselves…those beings that I had read about with such zest. So, I found an outcropping of rocks and ducked behind them, holding my restless calot to me as I watched several massive and mighty green men gather around their fallen youth.
From the tree line came at least eight absolutely huge green warriors. They were true giants! Having read that a green Martian man stands between fifteen and twenty feet tall, and actually seeing those behemoths before my eyes, were two very, very different experiences! These beings were pure muscle, long limbed, chiseled, and defined. And there was something in their look made me think of a Praying Mantis. The green tones of their skin varied as our human flesh tones might vary, and the effect was quite beautiful, despite their fierce countenances. I felt bad for their young one, but knew that my life had been saved by my little Martian pup.
As they conversed in low, guttural tones in their universal Martian language, I stared agape. John Carter had, somehow, learned that language over a relatively short period of time, which left me completely dumbfounded!
It was then that the reality of my circumstance truly began to hit me. I was actually on Mars! This was no dream or frivolous mental adventure. I was lost…deep within all the mystery and peril of a strange new world. And other than my new little companion, I was utterly and hopelessly alone.
A rush of sheer terror washed over me then. I desperately needed to get to Helium so I could find John Carter, learn to communicate, and find some form of safety from the innumerable deadly circumstances that I was sure to confront alone in that savage land. But I had not the slightest idea where I was in relation to any of the places I had read about. And being unable to communicate, how could I even hope to find Helium? Even trusting other red men that I might run across was iffy, to say the least. Since many of the red nations were as much enemies to Helium as other, non-human races were. I could take a chance and give out the name “John Carter” to someone, and I’m sure many would recognize it, but would it help me, or instead land me in some prison. Or worse, would some Jeddak take a liking to me and I end up in a situation where most Martian women would decide it better to take their own lives rather than succumb to such an unwelcome existence?
My mind whirled through all of these thoughts as I watched the green men—who had not seemed to notice me at all when I made my escape—take the body of their dead one, and leave the scene. I finally felt comfortable turning my back on the now vacant spot and, holding my little calot close, I settled in behind that rock hoping no deadly creature would find me there as I rested and attempted to gather myself to face the seemingly hopeless task at hand.
A strange little gurgling whine emanated from my miniature beast, and I smiled down into its glistening, dark, wide eyes. I scratched its head, which seemed to be too large for its stout body and myriad squat legs. Its head was mostly mouth, lined with little sharp teeth and the beginnings of three rows of tusks that grew up from its lower jaw. Some might have called this wee animal ugly, but I found it to be the most adorable little thing I’d ever laid eyes on.
“So,” I cooed down at its funny upturned face. “Are you a boy calot or a girl calot?” Then with some urging, the little thing rolled onto its back, just exactly as a dog on Earth might do, and I rubbed its tummy, which was surprisingly soft, like velvet to the touch. It seemed to me, though I was not entirely sure of Martian “dog” physiology, that the creature was female. “A girl, I think.” I laughed.
Being that my favorite character from the Mars stories was Woola, I decided to give my little companion a name inspired by that. “Willa,” I said. Trying it aloud. Little Willa seemed to purr at me as I lavished her with adoration.
“Willa.” I said again, several times, hoping to get her used to hearing it, and to eventually associate it with her self.
We slept a bit then, and thank god we were not disturbed during that time. I felt pretty safe with Willa at my side. Since she had destroyed a creature many times her own size, I knew she was quite the effective guard dog, at least to a degree… unless perhaps a Banth, the fierce Barsoomian lion, were to come upon us. Yikes!… But I wiped those thoughts right out of my mind, knowing that if I let fear overtake me, I would not be able to get the rest I needed in order to keep my strength up. For who knew how long I would wander, perhaps with no food, or without finding anyone to come to my aid.
***
I have no idea how long I slept, but once I awoke, I was at a complete loss for what to do next. If I started walking, it would amount to aimless wandering. But what else was I to do? It seemed I was going to have to throw caution to the wind and try to find a red Martian city, so that I could at least get some idea of where I was and hopefully find my way eventually to Helium, and to safety.
After some time in meditation, I shrugged my shoulders and, followed by Willa, headed off in the opposite direction from where the green men had come from. I was pretty much out in the open, silently trudging through the soft vegetation of the Martian sea bottom. Feeling exposed, I decided to move into the nearby tree line, where it butted up against a steep cliff that rose high, perhaps fifty feet to my left.
There was not a single form of plant life that even remotely resembled anything on earth. I tried to remember the descriptions that John Carter gave of the mantilia, the plant that provided a milk-like substance that was a staple of Martian life. But it seemed that, wherever I was, this particular plant was not to be found. I was feeling mighty hungry, and I was sure Willa would like some kind of sustenance as well.
After hours of wandering without dangerous incident, thank goodness, night fell and darkness descended so rapidly it was quite shocking. The lack of any light brought a halt to our steps, and finding a large specimen of tree, I sank down onto the curve of a massive root and Willa perched herself in front of me—completely living up to her natural instinct as a watchdog.
I certainly didn’t want her to lose that instinct due to my loving adoration. I wanted her to be strong and as fierce as her breed was meant to be. I determined then, that when we found ourselves in a position to have her trained properly, I would ensure she was given the best training a calot could get.
Not long after we settled ourselves in, Cluros, the further moon of Mars, moved into the heavens bringing dim but sufficient light to illuminate our surroundings.
I rose and stepped out of the tree line to gaze with heart-swelling wonder at the gorgeous Martian sky. Moments later, the nearer and larger moon, Thuria, came racing into view, and I was caught, mesmerized by the astounding beauty of the sight before me. Such an effect the martian landscape and skies had on my soul, and so very unfamiliar when compared to the simple night skies of Earth… I was utterly transfixed. I do not know how long I stood there gaping, but I was jolted from the spell by a dark blot that came into view to my right, high in the sky above.
My first instinct was to dash back into the trees so as not to be spotted. But I hesitated, as my circumstance would only worsen with no food or water, should no other craft or being come along that could provide assistance, or even worse, should some dangerous entity cross our path and possibly destroy us.
So, with obvious apprehension but helpless resolve, I moved further out and away from the protective cover of the trees, and worked to muster up the courage to wave my arms and call attention to myself in case they hadn’t seen me. I then noticed that the craft was rapidly dropping. Its dark silhouette growing larger on the ground below. I was able to make out more details as it descended. It seemed, from the descriptions I had read, to be a red man’s great warship. But there were no banners flying, and I was not able to make out any kind of insignia on its side. As it dipped closer, I then discovered why no insignia could be seen… the full length of the side of the craft was in ruin. It seemed it had been, very effectively, fired upon, and that fact, rather than my eager waving, was the cause of its fast and unsteady approach.
In the next instant, several things occurred at once. First, I saw tiny dark shapes leaping from the craft and drifting toward the ground. They looked like men, abandoning the ship with parachutes, and there were several smaller flying craft separating from the mother ship. At precisely that moment, I spotted to my right, in the direction I had come from, many dark shapes moving on the ground toward where the ship and its crew were sure to hit the ground. I knew instantly, even though the distance was too great to see any details yet, that those advancing shapes were the green men on their massive Thoats.
My heart commenced to race madly in my chest, and despite the wisdom of throwing myself directly into the middle of an ensuing battle, I hollered, “Willa, come!” and darted off in the direction of the falling craft, glancing quickly down to find my little calot running along beside me. I was impressed how fast the little gal was. Those legs of hers might be stout, but she moved like grease lightning, overtaking me and slowing occasionally to stay within my stride.
I reached the area where many red men were landing without harm due to their parachutes-like apparatus’. The ship itself had drifted further away from them as it careened to meet the ground in a thundering crash. Willa was going insane at my side, so I lifted her and grasped her to me in an effort to calm her, but it was nearly impossible to hold her she was squirming so much.
The green men were advancing swiftly now and the red men were pulling long swords from their sheaths in preparation to meet them. A couple of the red men had notice me standing there, wide-eyed, as I backed away from the impending confrontation.
Suddenly my steps were halted as I backed directly into someone. I spun around to find a tall, lean red man looking down at me with as much astonishment as I surely displayed. Willa jerked so violently that she fell from my grasp and began to race off toward the approaching green warriors, but I called after her with gruff authority, “Willa, stop!” And to my amazement she halted, though she kept up her strange noises, and looked ready to pounce the instant I gave her leave to do so.
The red man said something to me, and I turned to look up into his strikingly handsome, and confused, face. Of course I couldn’t understand him, so I waved my hand and shook my head, saying so in English.
He gasped, “English!”
The look he gave me then was of utter amazement, and at the very same instant we both spoke the name, “John Carter.”
I grinned from ear to ear as I nodded up at him, and the relief that flooded through me was euphoric. He grinned, too, but our reaction was short lived as the green men thundered in and the fighting commenced.
“Safety.” The red man said.
Yes, he did say the English word, with a touch of accent, and I nodded. I called to Willa and we headed away from the violent throng of clashing men, leaving my new friend to fight alongside his fellow crew members.
Willa was going nuts with excitement, and I had barely moved away from the throng when I felt very large hands roughly take hold of my upper arms. My reaction was instantaneous. Utilizing my knowledge of Kung Fu, as well as my increased strength, aided by the lesser gravity of Mars, I used my foe’s massive weight against him and flipped him right over me. Throwing him to the ground hard onto his back. I gasped aloud when I saw I’d laid flat a full sized green warrior, but I could only enjoy my accomplishment for a split second. Next thing I knew, many huge hands were on me and there was fierce shouting in low baritone above me.
My feet left the ground as one of the three, or four, beasts threw me over his shoulder very hard, so that the wind was almost entirely knocked out of me. My vision swam for a moment, and as I caught my breath and got my equilibrium back, I saw Willa had her wide little jaw clamped down on the ankle of my captor, trying in vain to tear the huge fellow to shreds as she had done that smaller specimen. But in the next instant, the huge man kicked his foot out with mild irritation and sent my poor little Willa flying into the nearby bush. I called after her as my heart jolted to my throat with worry, and the green man shook me hard with a laugh so reeking of cruelty that it chilled me to the bone.
Firmly, the massive hand held me there, and there was not a thing I could do about it. No amount of scratching or pounding fazed him in the least. Not even holding onto me prevented him from fighting alongside his fellows. With his two or three free hands, he wielded huge swords! And to my deep despair, he carved his way through a whole slew of red men. Tears filled my eyes as I watched them fall behind us in a red line of gore. Blood and death followed in his wake, and I had to shut my vision away from the carnage in order to keep my sanity.
***
Ultimately, myself and several of the red men who survived the battle, found ourselves locked away in a dark, windowless room beneath a large building in the derelict city these green men occupied. I was quite despondent to find that the red man with whom I’d spoken before the battle commenced was not among my cellmates. And I was sick with worry for my dear little Willa as well, as she was lost to me after my capture.
The red men present tried to converse with me. They all recognized the names John Carter and Earth, but outside of that, we weren’t really able to communicate to any useful degree. I knew they would do what they could to protect me. It seemed they felt a real affinity for the people of Earth, or Jasoom, as they referred to it. Thank god these were men of Helium! And though our situation seemed quite hopeless at the moment, I recalled the encouraging words of The Warlord of Mars himself, “I still live.” So, with this hope held firmly inside my heart, I felt I could face whatever came my way with bravery, and not allow fear to overwhelm me.
A green man brought us food, which was not unpalatable. The mantilla milk was quite tasty, actually. Maybe comparable to coconut milk, but more…green tasting. I had no way of measuring time, since there were no windows in our cell, but it felt to be at least a day’s worth of hours before two huge green Martians arrived and bound me securely before removing me from the cell. I wondered why they bothered securing my arms so tightly, being that I was a tiny creature compared to them, but then it dawned on me. My feat of grounding one of them during the battle the previous day must not have been missed by those around us, who had surely reported the unusual event to their Jeddak.
My suspicions about this proved to be correct. I was led directly into the vast hall where the Jeddak, Orkos Korak, sat sprawled across this throne, his strange head rested in his hand. I gleaned his name because it was repeated several times by my captors as I was brought before him. I could hear the tap tap tap of his ringed knuckle hitting against one of his tusks as he watched me being shoved into the center of the room by his soldiers.
“Kutsk akka.” He commented casually, followed by sneering, mean laughter that was instantly joined by the entire room full of green giants.
There was nothing I could do, stuck as I was with no hope of rescue or singular escape. So I shrugged my shoulders. Feeling utterly tiny and insignificant, surrounded as I was, I reverted to a bit of my own snarky attitude. “I don’t understand a word you said.” I replied with a dramatic roll of my eyes.
The entire room roared with laughter, and it was the strangest thing, I actually found myself laughing along with them. This kinda threw them for a loop, I guess, because I noticed them look at one another, their expressions filled with amusement and incredulity.
My heart was pounding insanely in my chest, and I was trembling, but I hoped none of them would notice, though I’m sure they did. Next thing I knew, the Jeddak pointed a long, gnarled finger at a big, weapon-clad warrior to his left, then to me, as he barked some instruction to him. I knew just what this meant, having been forewarned by John Carter’s experience, so I steeled myself for the fight.
The titanic warrior rose from where he was perched, and removed his weapons. Since I was unarmed, I assumed, with relief, that these men wanted me to give them a replay of my skills, instead of putting on a fight with weapons involved. I took a deep breath as the massive green man moved toward me, slowly at first, but then, when he was about ten feet away he charged like an enraged bull. This was good, and I smiled confidently, which brought more laughter and enthusiastic hollers from the excited crowd.
Bent forward as he was, and due to my small stature, I grabbed the first thing I could reach, which was his lower right forearm. And once again, using his massive weight to aid me, and benefitted by the lower-gravity advantage, I sent that raging giant flying right over my head, then crashing onto his back on the hard stone floor behind me.
The crowd went wild, as they say on Earth, but I didn’t even have a chance to see their astonished and cheering faces, because my big green foe was rising angrily to his feet. He recovered himself quickly, and lunged at me with a hideous, thundering growl. The only thing I could do was leap into the air and over him. I landed several feet behind him to raucous laughter as he spun to face me again, grunting his frustration.
Though I could not understand the words, it was plain that the crowd was jeering and taunting their brother, which only served to intensify his embarrassment, and his fury. How could this tiny, pale little creature have such an advantage against a mighty green man? I was grateful that, so far at least, the shame of my upstaging one of their own did not cause them to simply destroy me outright. They would keep me as a plaything, which made my feeling of relief short lived.
He came at me again, and this time I dashed between his long legs, which was quite easy since I barely had to duck to fit under them. Apparently, my dodging him was not nearly as popular as my flipping him over, so next thing I knew, my antagonist was brandishing a sword that one of his fellows had tossed to him. Thankfully, these aliens believed in at least some form or honor, well in this circumstance anyway, because another of them tossed a blade to me, and I snatched it up as it slid across the floor at my feet.
I had been trained with the weapons of the Orient on earth, but this blade was vastly different. Despite being very large, and quite heavy for my little frame, its weight and balance was a world away from that of a katana, the sword I was most proficient with. So, I was not very good meeting my foe halfway during this portion of the fight, and I had to resort instead to dodging him at every turn.
Finally, after doing our “green-warrior-attacks versus tiny-girl-dodges” routine for several exhaustive minutes, I found myself facing my antagonist’s back, and in that desperate second I acted quickly. I leaped up and at him, landing on his back, then perched myself on his big shoulders, just behind his head. With one hand, I grasped a great tusk, and with the other I drew that large blade right across the softest portion of his neck. It all happened so fast that he had no time to throw me off before he was opened up and the blood was pouring down his front.
To this day I’m still astonished that I could hold the weight of that sword in one hand. But with the lower gravity of Barsoom, and the adrenaline I was feeling, I guessed that was what made such a feat possible.
As he staggered, I left him, clumsily falling to the hard floor at his side, then swiftly scurrying out of his way, since I wasn’t sure which way he would fall. Like a great tree, he tumbled forward, landing on his face, and the blood spread in a great circle from the gash in his neck.
Silence…
But only for a moment. Then, atrocious laughter filled the great hall, and my eyes traveled the hoard of nightmarish faces all around me, until it finally lighted on the guffawing visage of Orkos Korak. His laughter faded away as his great, shining red eyes met mine. There was no anger in them, and his look was not particularly threatening, though simply meeting that gaze was still quite unnerving to me. Then, in much the same motion as the fight had begun, he pointed at the fallen warrior and uttered strange words as he smirked down at me.
One of the green men nearest me stepped forward and stripped the dead one of his accouterments. He gathered them into his arms and brought them over to me. I had won them, as John Carter had won his own when he first arrived on Mars. I took them from him with a bow of thanks. They were quite large and cumbersome for me to hold, but not too heavy—mostly leather, and some metal and stones, bones, maybe teeth? Probably trophies from previous kills—as well as his rifle, his big sword, and a couple of smaller blades. Well, small to him, but not to me. They were daggers, but closer to the size of the swords I was accustomed to, though thicker.
I wondered then, what name I had inherited from this unfortunate warrior. I soon learned that I had gained two names. The first name was, Loraza, the feminine derivative of Loraz, the Martian youth whose harness I wore, and the second was Torrok, the big one whom I had just dispatched.
Surprised, I was not sent back to the holding cell I had originally been placed in. Instead, I was taken to a small room with sparse furnishings. Soft, if dusty, silks for sleeping were laid out on a low platform, and one of the green women brought me food.
Most of Torrok’s belongings I could not use. The harness was far too large, and the leather was soaked in blood all down its front. The sword was okay, but for the fact that it was quite long and drug the ground when it hung at my hip. It was the same with the radium rifle, though it was lightweight, it was very long, and felt awkward to hold. It did fit in the holster on my back, so I could carry it. I tried moving the sword’s sheathe to my back, but I couldn’t get it to work properly so I had to abandon it.
Once I had a bite to eat, I rested on the large sill of my single window and watched as the Thoats were being herded into their pens. What incredible creatures, Thoats. They were unlike anything on Earth, though in some respects they seemed like a combination of various animals: horses, buffalo maybe, with a hint of a prehistoric quality. After a short while, several slaves brought me what must have been the balance of my inheritance. Included with these things was a smaller version of the sword, which must have been the one that belonged to the Martian youth Willa had killed. I was thrilled to get it. But at the thought of having lost my little calot, my spirits sank.
What had become of my dear Willa?
***
