L. Camp - The Exotic Enchanter

“Then how do we get there?” she asked. “Borrow one of their flying machines?”

“That would not be practicable,” said Ras Thavas. “if any Heliumite would be willing to lend or rent such a machine, he would certainly not do it to an alien of whom he knows naught.”

“How much would one cost?” asked Shea. “New or secondhand?”

“A new flier to carry three would run about ten thousand crowns.”

Shea exchanged looks with his wife. “I doubt if we brought anything like that with us. And I don’t suppose they accept credit cards.”

“What is a credit card?” asked Ras Thavas. “Never mind. Anyway, who should pilot the craft? The Heliums, who like to think of themselves as thoroughly up-to-date, have installed a newfangled system of licenses for piloting theirs, and rules to govern air traffic. I do not have a pilot’s license so one of you Sheas would have to obtain one. That calls For a course of instructions and passing a flight test and a written examination.”

“Oh-oh!” said Shea. “Looks as if bureaucracy has caught up with Barsoom at last!”

“There are reasons,” said Ras Thavas, “Lord Carter was persuaded to start a course at the local university on Earthly capitalism. His praises of the free-market system proved so popular that the Jed was prevailed upon to abolish the former restrictions on free enterprise.

“Soon, enterprising Heliumites set up factories to make fliers, cheap enough for ordinary folk to buy. Some of these machines were hastily built and killed their occupants. That was only one example of the shortcomings of capitalism, which transpired little by little. So now a powerful faction is urging more regulations, which Lord Carter furiously opposes, calling such interference in business un-American, whatever that means.

“In any case, the air over the Helium’s became too crowded for safety, especially when some of the younger and more reckless males began doing acrobatic stunts with their fliers. Aerial collisions became a daily occurrence. The rain of machines and bodies on roofs and streets led the Jeddak, following Lord Carter’s advice, to impose a strict system of licensing.”

Belphebe asked: “Isn’t there any public transport on Barsoom? Say, an airline?”

Ras Thavas chudded. “One Heliumite last year essayed to start a regular passenger service by flier to Zodanga and Zor. But it foundered on one of the weaknesses of human nature.”

“How so?” asked Shea.

“You know our Barsoomian custom, of always going armed, at least with sword and dagger if not with a pistol as well? That is how we distinguish free men from slaves by sight. Thus I, being unarmed at the moment, could be mistaken for a slave, were not my repute so high that no Heliumite, at least, would commit that error. The Jed’s secretary, Dattok, is a slave. I forgo sword wearing in the Heliums because the cursed things are a nuisance, forever tripping me up or hitting me in the shins.

“Well, it did not take long for the lawless element to reason out a way to turn the airline fares to their advantage. Suppose a criminal wished to fly to, say, Horz, which is halfway round the planet. So he would buy a ticket to Zor, which was vastly cheaper. Then, when the flier had taken off, he would draw sword and pistol and command the pilot to take him to Horz. This led to aerial fights and fatal crashes.

“First, the capitalist who launched the scheme tried to disarm his passengers, demanding that all weapons — swords, daggers, pistols, and so on — be handed in to the gate guards. But you must understand that, for Barsoomians, the sword has a mystical prestige. To ask a free Barsoomian to surrender his sword is like asking him to become a slave.

“Hence fights broke out, with gate guards and would-be passengers slain. Hence the passengers dropped off, and his company went bankrupt by the end of last year.”

“What happens to one who goes bankrupt here?”

“He is auctioned off as a slave to his creditors. Of the money paid for him, most goes to the governments tax collectors, while the remainder is divided amongst the unsuccessful creditors. I am sure that your home world, being technologically more advanced than we are, has long since mastered such problems.”

“I fear not,” said Shea. “Among certain classes of Jasoomians, the pistol has acquired something of the same mystical glorification that here applies to the sword. A few centuries ago, the sword on my world had much the same status. Wearing a sword proved that one belonged to the gentleman class, Now that the sword is obsolete as a military weapon, the pistol has somewhat taken its place psychologically.”

Belphebe: “That’s all very well, but then how do we get to Zodanga? You don’t seem to have railroads or buses.”

Ras Thavas said: “I fear we must either walk or ride on the backs of thoats. Do you two ride any riding animal?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We are both experienced riders of a Jasoomian beast called a ‘horse.’ How long would it take to get to Zodanga on thoat-back?”

“Three thousand haads . . . ?” Ras Thavas frowned in thought, twitching his fingers to do sums. “With good beasts, assuming no accidents or hostile encounters, forty to fifty days.”

Shea grunted and Belphebe groaned. Shea said: “Is there no way to get us there faster?”

“Not that I know of, unless Sir Harold can work his symbolic-logic spell to move us to another part of the planet.”

“I fear that won’t work, either,” said Shea. “An attempt would probably snap us back to the planet we started from.”

“Then,” said Belphebe, “we must make the best of it. It might even have advantages. Harold can work on Doctor Ras to make him into the perfect Barsoomian gentleman.”

Ras Thavas made a face of disgust.

“Yes,” said Shea. “And, Doctor, have you been eating regularly? You look starved.”

Ras Thavas waved a dismissing hand. “My body keeps signalling that it wants more to eat; but I cannot afford the time away from my research to indulge its primitive lusts. Its previous owner was an athlete, and his body doubtless wishes to continue in the gluttonous habits it formed in its previous life.”

“For our scheme,” said Shea, “you must be in top physical trim. So be prepared to eat what and when I tell you to.”

“The body I now wear,” said Ras Thavas haughtily, “was the physically finest among the hundreds of specimens that have passed through my laboratories. In fact Its previous owner, if weak in intellect, had a repute as a champion wrestler or something of the sort.”

“It may have been a perfect body then,” said Shea, “but I can see where you’ve let it run down. Too much crouching over lab tables, not enough food, and not enough exercise. Daily workouts will soon fix that! Then I must try you out on some sword practice, since Barsoomians have such romantic ideas about the glory of the sword.”

Ras Thavas groaned. III

Harold Shea said: “Seems to me we’ve ridden far enough for one day. What do you think darling?”

“I think you’re right,” said Belphebe, mentally ommanding her thoat to halt. Hitching her longbow up out of the way, she slid off the animal.

Shea dismounted with a grunt. “I fear we shall have some sore muscles tomorrow.”

“We haven’t done enough riding lately to keep in shape,” said Belphebe. “It’s not as if I hadn’t reminded you.”

“I know,” said Shea. “But there’s always a meeting at the damned Institute, or a stack of papers to grade. At least, with all those legs, these critters give a smoother ride than a horse.”

Ras Thavas had more difficulty in halting his thoat. The animal trotted on for several thoat-lengths before he brought it under mental control and circled back to join the others.