The Headless Humans

: The Chessmen Of Mars

Above the roof of the palace that housed the Jed of Gathol and

his entourage, the cruiser Vanator tore at her stout moorings.

The groaning tackle bespoke the mad fury of the gale, while the

worried faces of those members of the crew whose duties demanded

their presence on the straining craft gave corroborative evidence

of the gravity of the situation. Only stout lashings prevented

these men from being swept from the de
k, while those upon the

roof below were constantly compelled to cling to rails and

stanchions to save themselves from being carried away by each new

burst of meteoric fury. Upon the prow of the Vanator was painted

the device of Gathol, but no pennants were displayed in the upper

works since the storm had carried away several in rapid

succession, just as it seemed to the watching men that it must

carry away the ship itself. They could not believe that any

tackle could withstand for long this Titanic force. To each of

the twelve lashings clung a brawny warrior with drawn

short-sword. Had but a single mooring given to the power of the

tempest eleven short-swords would have cut the others; since,

partially moored, the ship was doomed, while free in the tempest

it stood at least some slight chance for life.



"By the blood of Issus, I believe they will hold!" screamed one

warrior to another.



"And if they do not hold may the spirits of our ancestors reward

the brave warriors upon the Vanator," replied another of those

upon the roof of the palace, "for it will not be long from the

moment her cables part before her crew dons the leather of the

dead; but yet, Tanus, I believe they will hold. Give thanks at

least that we did not sail before the tempest fell, since now

each of us has a chance to live."



"Yes," replied Tanus, "I should hate to be abroad today upon the

stoutest ship that sails the Barsoomian sky."



It was then that Gahan the Jed appeared upon the roof. With him

were the balance of his own party and a dozen warriors of Helium.

The young chief turned to his followers.



"I sail at once upon the Vanator," he said, "in search of Tara of

Helium who is thought to have been carried away upon a one-man

flier by the storm. I do not need to explain to you the slender

chances the Vanator has to withstand the fury of the tempest, nor

will I order you to your deaths. Let those who wish remain behind

without dishonor. The others will follow me," and he leaped for

the rope ladder that lashed wildly in the gale.



The first man to follow him was Tanus and when the last reached

the deck of the cruiser there remained upon the palace roof only

the twelve warriors of Helium, who, with naked swords, had taken

the posts of the Gatholians at the moorings.



Not a single warrior who had remained aboard the Vanator would

leave her now.



"I expected no less," said Gahan, as with the help of those

already on the deck he and the others found secure lashings. The

commander of the Vanator shook his head. He loved his trim craft,

the pride of her class in the little navy of Gathol. It was of

her he thought--not of himself. He saw her lying torn and twisted

upon the ochre vegetation of some distant sea-bottom, to be

presently overrun and looted by some savage, green horde. He

looked at Gahan.



"Are you ready, San Tothis?" asked the jed.



"All is ready."



"Then cut away!"



Word was passed across the deck and over the side to the

Heliumetic warriors below that at the third gun they were to cut

away. Twelve keen swords must strike simultaneously and with

equal power, and each must sever completely and instantly three

strands of heavy cable that no loose end fouling a block bring

immediate disaster upon the Vanator.



Boom! The voice of the signal gun rolled down through the

screaming wind to the twelve warriors upon the roof. Boom! Twelve

swords were raised above twelve brawny shoulders. Boom! Twelve

keen edges severed twelve complaining moorings, clean and as one.



The Vanator, her propellors whirling, shot forward with the

storm. The tempest struck her in the stern as with a mailed fist

and stood the great ship upon her nose, and then it caught her

and spun her as a child's top spins; and upon the palace roof the

twelve men looked on in silent helplessness and prayed for the

souls of the brave warriors who were going to their death. And

others saw, from Helium's lofty landing stages and from a

thousand hangars upon a thousand roofs; but only for an instant

did the preparations stop that would send other brave men into

the frightful maelstrom of that apparently hopeless search, for

such is the courage of the warriors of Barsoom.



But the Vanator did not fall to the ground, within sight of the

city at least, though as long as the watchers could see her never

for an instant did she rest upon an even keel. Sometimes she lay

upon one side or the other, or again she hurtled along keel up,

or rolled over and over, or stood upon her nose or her tail at

the caprice of the great force that carried her along. And the

watchers saw that this great ship was merely being blown away

with the other bits of debris great and small that filled the

sky. Never in the memory of man or the annals of recorded history

had such a storm raged across the face of Barsoom.



And in another instant was the Vanator forgotten as the lofty,

scarlet tower that had marked Lesser Helium for ages crashed to

ground, carrying death and demolition upon the city beneath.

Panic reigned. A fire broke out in the ruins. The city's every

force seemed crippled, and it was then that The Warlord ordered

the men that were about to set forth in search of Tara of Helium

to devote their energies to the salvation of the city, for he too

had witnessed the start of the Vanator and realized the futility

of wasting men who were needed sorely if Lesser Helium was to be

saved from utter destruction.



Shortly after noon of the second day the storm commenced to

abate, and before the sun went down, the little craft upon which

Tara of Helium had hovered between life and death these many

hours drifted slowly before a gentle breeze above a landscape of

rolling hills that once had been lofty mountains upon a Martian

continent. The girl was exhausted from loss of sleep, from lack

of food and drink, and from the nervous reaction consequent to

the terrifying experiences through which she had passed. In the

near distance, just topping an intervening hill, she caught a

momentary glimpse of what appeared to be a dome-capped tower.

Quickly she dropped the flier until the hill shut it off from the

view of the possible occupants of the structure she had seen. The

tower meant to her the habitation of man, suggesting the presence

of water and, perhaps, of food. If the tower was the deserted

relic of a bygone age she would scarcely find food there, but

there was still a chance that there might be water. If it was

inhabited, then must her approach be cautious, for only enemies

might be expected to abide in so far distant a land. Tara of

Helium knew that she must be far from the twin cities of her

grandfather's empire, but had she guessed within even a thousand

haads of the reality, she had been stunned by realization of the

utter hopelessness of her state.



Keeping the craft low, for the buoyancy tanks were still intact,

the girl skimmed the ground until the gently-moving wind had

carried her to the side of the last hill that intervened between

her and the structure she had thought a man-built tower. Here she

brought the flier to the ground among some stunted trees, and

dragging it beneath one where it might be somewhat hidden from

craft passing above, she made it fast and set forth to

reconnoiter. Like most women of her class she was armed only with

a single slender blade, so that in such an emergency as now

confronted her she must depend almost solely upon her cleverness

in remaining undiscovered by enemies. With utmost caution she

crept warily toward the crest of the hill, taking advantage of

every natural screen that the landscape afforded to conceal her

approach from possible observers ahead, while momentarily she

cast quick glances rearward lest she be taken by surprise from

that quarter.



She came at last to the summit, where, from the concealment of a

low bush, she could see what lay beyond. Beneath her spread a

beautiful valley surrounded by low hills. Dotting it were

numerous circular towers, dome-capped, and surrounding each tower

was a stone wall enclosing several acres of ground. The valley

appeared to be in a high state of cultivation. Upon the opposite

side of the hill and just beneath her was a tower and enclosure.

It was the roof of the former that had first attracted her

attention. In all respects it seemed identical in construction

with those further out in the valley--a high, plastered wall of

massive construction surrounding a similarly constructed tower,

upon whose gray surface was painted in vivid colors a strange

device. The towers were about forty sofads in diameter,

approximately forty earth-feet, and sixty in height to the base

of the dome. To an Earth man they would have immediately

suggested the silos in which dairy farmers store ensilage for

their herds; but closer scrutiny, revealing an occasional

embrasured opening together with the strange construction of the

domes, would have altered such a conclusion. Tara of Helium saw

that the domes seemed to be faced with innumerable prisms of

glass, those that were exposed to the declining sun scintillating

so gorgeously as to remind her suddenly of the magnificent

trappings of Gahan of Gathol. As she thought of the man she shook

her head angrily, and moved cautiously forward a foot or two that

she might get a less obstructed view of the nearer tower and its

enclosure.



As Tara of Helium looked down into the enclosure surrounding the

nearest tower, her brows contracted momentarily in frowning

surprise, and then her eyes went wide in an expression of

incredulity tinged with horror, for what she saw was a score or

two of human bodies--naked and headless. For a long moment she

watched, breathless; unable to believe the evidence of her own

eyes--that these grewsome things moved and had life! She saw them

crawling about on hands and knees over and across one another,

searching about with their fingers. And she saw some of them at

troughs, for which the others seemed to be searching, and those

at the troughs were taking something from these receptacles and

apparently putting it in a hole where their necks should have

been. They were not far beneath her--she could see them

distinctly and she saw that there were the bodies of both men and

women, and that they were beautifully proportioned, and that

their skin was similar to hers, but of a slightly lighter red. At

first she had thought that she was looking upon a shambles and

that the bodies, but recently decapitated, were moving under the

impulse of muscular reaction; but presently she realized that

this was their normal condition. The horror of them fascinated

her, so that she could scarce take her eyes from them. It was

evident from their groping hands that they were eyeless, and

their sluggish movements suggested a rudimentary nervous system

and a correspondingly minute brain. The girl wondered how they

subsisted for she could not, even by the wildest stretch of

imagination, picture these imperfect creatures as intelligent

tillers of the soil. Yet that the soil of the valley was tilled

was evident and that these things had food was equally so. But

who tilled the soil? Who kept and fed these unhappy things, and

for what purpose? It was an enigma beyond her powers of

deduction.



The sight of food aroused again a consciousness of her own

gnawing hunger and the thirst that parched her throat. She could

see both food and water within the enclosure; but would she dare

enter even should she find means of ingress? She doubted it,

since the very thought of possible contact with these grewsome

creatures sent a shudder through her frame.



Then her eyes wandered again out across the valley until

presently they picked out what appeared to be a tiny stream

winding its way through the center of the farm lands--a strange

sight upon Barsoom. Ah, if it were but water! Then might she hope

with a real hope, for the fields would give her sustenance which

she could gain by night, while by day she hid among the

surrounding hills, and sometime, yes, sometime she knew, the

searchers would come, for John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, would

never cease to search for his daughter until every square haad of

the planet had been combed again and again. She knew him and she

knew the warriors of Helium and so she knew that could she but

manage to escape harm until they came, they would indeed come at

last.



She would have to wait until dark before she dare venture into

the valley, and in the meantime she thought it well to search out

a place of safety nearby where she might be reasonably safe from

savage beasts. It was possible that the district was free from

carnivora, but one might never be sure in a strange land. As she

was about to withdraw be hind the brow of the hill her attention

was again attracted to the enclosure below. Two figures had

emerged from the tower. Their beautiful bodies seemed identical

with those of the headless creatures among which they moved, but

the newcomers were not headless. Upon their shoulders were heads

that seemed human, yet which the girl intuitively sensed were not

human. They were just a trifle too far away for her to see them

distinctly in the waning light of the dying day, but she knew

that they were too large, they were out of proportion to the

perfectly proportioned bodies, and they were oblate in form. She

could see that the men wore some manner of harness to which were

slung the customary long-sword and short-sword of the Barsoomian

warrior, and that about their short necks were massive leather

collars cut to fit closely over the shoulders and snugly to the

lower part of the head. Their features were scarce discernible,

but there was a suggestion of grotesqueness about them that

carried to her a feeling of revulsion.



The two carried a long rope to which were fastened, at intervals

of about two sofads, what she later guessed were light manacles,

for she saw the warriors passing among the poor creatures in the

enclosure and about the right wrist of each they fastened one of

the manacles. When all had been thus fastened to the rope one of

the warriors commenced to pull and tug at the loose end as though

attempting to drag the headless company toward the tower, while

the other went among them with a long, light whip with which he

flicked them upon the naked skin. Slowly, dully, the creatures

rose to their feet and between the tugging of the warrior in

front and the lashing of him behind the hopeless band was finally

herded within the tower. Tara of Helium shuddered as she turned

away. What manner of creatures were these?



Suddenly it was night. The Barsoomian day had ended, and then the

brief period of twilight that renders the transition from

daylight to darkness almost as abrupt as the switching off of an

electric light, and Tara of Helium had found no sanctuary. But

perhaps there were no beasts to fear, or rather to avoid--Tara of

Helium liked not the word fear. She would have been glad,

however, had there been a cabin, even a very tiny cabin, upon her

small flier; but there was no cabin. The interior of the hull was

completely taken up by the buoyancy tanks. Ah, she had it! How

stupid of her not to have thought of it before! She could moor

the craft to the tree beneath which it rested and let it rise the

length of the rope. Lashed to the deck rings she would then be

safe from any roaming beast of prey that chanced along. In the

morning she could drop to the ground again before the craft was

discovered.



As Tara of Helium crept over the brow of the hill down toward the

valley, her presence was hidden by the darkness of the night from

the sight of any chance observer who might be loitering by a

window in the nearby tower. Cluros, the farther moon, was just

rising above the horizon to commence his leisurely journey

through the heavens. Eight zodes later he would set--a trifle

over nineteen and a half Earth hours--and during that time

Thuria, his vivacious mate, would have circled the planet twice

and be more than half way around on her third trip. She had but

just set. It would be more than three and a half hours before she

shot above the opposite horizon to hurtle, swift and low, across

the face of the dying planet. During this temporary absence of

the mad moon Tara of Helium hoped to find both food and water,

and gain again the safety of her flier's deck.



She groped her way through the darkness, giving the tower and its

enclosure as wide a berth as possible. Sometimes she stumbled,

for in the long shadows cast by the rising Cluros objects were

grotesquely distorted though the light from the moon was still

not sufficient to be of much assistance to her. Nor, as a matter

of fact, did she want light. She could find the stream in the

dark, by the simple expedient of going down hill until she walked

into it and she had seen that bearing trees and many crops grew

throughout the valley, so that she would pass food in plenty ere

she reached the stream. If the moon showed her the way more

clearly and thus saved her from an occasional fall, he would,

too, show her more clearly to the strange denizens of the towers,

and that, of course, must not be. Could she have waited until the

following night conditions would have been better, since Cluros

would not appear in the heavens at all and so, during Thuria's

absence, utter darkness would reign; but the pangs of thirst and

the gnawing of hunger could be endured no longer with food and

drink both in sight, and so she had decided to risk discovery

rather than suffer longer.



Safely past the nearest tower, she moved as rapidly as she felt

consistent with safety, choosing her way wherever possible so

that she might take advantage of the shadows of the trees that

grew at intervals and at the same time discover those which bore

fruit. In this latter she met with almost immediate success, for

the very third tree beneath which she halted was heavy with ripe

fruit. Never, thought Tara of Helium, had aught so delicious

impinged upon her palate, and yet it was naught else than the

almost tasteless usa, which is considered to be palatable only

after having been cooked and highly spiced. It grows easily with

little irrigation and the trees bear abundantly. The fruit, which

ranks high in food value, is one of the staple foods of the less

well-to-do, and because of its cheapness and nutritive value

forms one of the principal rations of both armies and navies upon

Barsoom, a use which has won for it a Martian sobriquet which,

freely translated into English, would be, The Fighting Potato.

The girl was wise enough to eat but sparingly, but she filled her

pocket-pouch with the fruit before she continued upon her way.



Two towers she passed before she came at last to the stream, and

here again was she temperate, drinking but little and that very

slowly, contenting herself with rinsing her mouth frequently and

bathing her face, her hands, and her feet; and even though the

night was cold, as Martian nights are, the sensation of

refreshment more than compensated for the physical discomfort of

the low temperature. Replacing her sandals she sought among the

growing track near the stream for whatever edible berries or

tubers might be planted there, and found a couple of varieties

that could be eaten raw. With these she replaced some of the usa

in her pocket-pouch, not only to insure a variety but because she

found them more palatable. Occasionally she returned to the

stream to drink, but each time moderately. Always were her eyes

and ears alert for the first signs of danger, but she had neither

seen nor heard aught to disturb her. And presently the time

approached when she felt she must return to her flier lest she be

caught in the revealing light of low swinging Thuria. She dreaded

leaving the water for she knew that she must become very thirsty

before she could hope to come again to the stream. If she only

had some little receptacle in which to carry water, even a small

amount would tide her over until the following night; but she had

nothing and so she must content herself as best she could with

the juices of the fruit and tubers she had gathered.



After a last drink at the stream, the longest and deepest she had

allowed herself, she rose to retrace her steps toward the hills;

but even as she did so she became suddenly tense with

apprehension. What was that? She could have sworn that she saw

something move in the shadows beneath a tree not far away. For a

long minute the girl did not move--she scarce breathed. Her eyes

remained fixed upon the dense shadows below the tree, her ears

strained through the silence of the night. A low moaning came

down from the hills where her flier was hidden. She knew it

well--the weird note of the hunting banth. And the great

carnivore lay directly in her path. But he was not so close as

this other thing, hiding there in the shadows just a little way

off. What was it? It was the strain of uncertainty that weighed

heaviest upon her. Had she known the nature of the creature

lurking there half its menace would have vanished. She cast

quickly about her in search of some haven of refuge should the

thing prove dangerous.



Again arose the moaning from the hills, but this time closer.

Almost immediately it was answered from the opposite side of the

valley, behind her, and then from the distance to the right of

her, and twice upon her left. Her eyes had found a tree, quite

near. Slowly, and without taking her eyes from the shadows of

that other tree, she moved toward the overhanging branches that

might afford her sanctuary in the event of need, and at her first

move a low growl rose from the spot she had been watching and she

heard the sudden moving of a big body. Simultaneously the

creature shot into the moonlight in full charge upon her, its

tail erect, its tiny ears laid flat, its great mouth with its

multiple rows of sharp and powerful fangs already yawning for its

prey, its ten legs carrying it forward in great leaps, and now

from the beast's throat issued the frightful roar with which it

seeks to paralyze its prey. It was a banth--the great, maned lion

of Barsoom. Tara of Helium saw it coming and leaped for the tree

toward which she had been moving, and the banth realized her

intention and redoubled his speed. As his hideous roar awakened

the echoes in the hills, so too it awakened echoes in the valley;

but these echoes came from the living throats of others of his

kind, until it seemed to the girl that Fate had thrown her into

the midst of a countless multitude of these savage beasts.



Almost incredibly swift is the speed of a charging banth, and

fortunate it was that the girl had not been caught farther in the

open. As it was, her margin of safety was next to negligible, for

as she swung nimbly to the lower branches the creature in pursuit

of her crashed among the foliage almost upon her as it sprang

upward to seize her. It was only a combination of good fortune

and agility that saved her. A stout branch deflected the raking

talons of the carnivore, but so close was the call that a giant

forearm brushed her flesh in the instant before she scrambled to

the higher branches.



Baffled, the banth gave vent to his rage and disappointment in a

series of frightful roars that caused the very ground to tremble,

and to these were added the roarings and the growlings and the

moanings of his fellows as they approached from every direction,

in the hope of wresting from him whatever of his kill they could

take by craft or prowess. And now he turned snarling upon them as

they circled the tree, while the girl, huddled in a crotch above

them, looked down upon the gaunt, yellow monsters padding on

noiseless feet in a restless circle about her. She wondered now

at the strange freak of fate that had permitted her to come down

this far into the valley by night unharmed, but even more she

wondered how she was to return to the hills. She knew that she

would not dare venture it by night and she guessed, too, that by

day she might be confronted by even graver perils. To depend upon

this valley for sustenance she now saw to be beyond the pale of

possibility because of the banths that would keep her from food

and water by night, while the dwellers in the towers would

doubtless make it equally impossible for her to forage by day.

There was but one solution of her difficulty and that was to

return to her flier and pray that the wind would waft her to some

less terrorful land; but when might she return to the flier? The

banths gave little evidence of relinquishing hope of her, and even

if they wandered out of sight would she dare risk the attempt?

She doubted it.



Hopeless indeed seemed her situation--hopeless it was.



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