The Master Mind of Mars

Sag Or been with us my cup of happiness would have been full, for within half a day, what had seemed utter failure and defeat had been turned almost to assured success. At the landing where lay Xaxa’s apartments we halted and looked within, for the long night voyage I contemplated would be cold and the body of Valla Dia must be kept warm with suitable robes even though it was inhabited by the spirit of Xaxa. Seeing no one we entered and soon found what we required. As I was adjusting a heavy robe of orluk about the Jeddara she regained consciousness. Instantly she recognized me and then Gor Hajus and finally Dar Tarus. Mechanically she felt for her dagger, but it was not there and when she saw my smile she paled with anger. At first she must have jumped to the conclusion that she had been the victim of a hoax, but presently a doubt seemed to enter her mind⁠—she must have been recalling some of the things that had transpired within the temple of the Great Tur, and these, neither she nor any other mortal might explain.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I am Tur,” I replied, brazenly.

“What is your purpose with me?”

“I am going to take you away from Phundahl,” I replied.

“But I do not wish to go. You are not Tur. You are Vad Varo. I shall call for help and my guards will come and slay you.”

“There is no one in the palace,” I reminded her. “Did I, Tur, not send them away?”

“I shall not go with you,” she announced firmly. “Rather would I die.”

“You shall go with me, Xaxa,” I replied, and though she fought and struggled we carried her from her apartment and up the spiral runway to the roof where, I prayed, I should find the hangars and the royal fliers; and as we stepped out into the fresh night air of Mars we did see the hangars before us, but we saw something else⁠—a group of Phundahlian warriors of the Jeddara’s Guard whom they had evidently failed to notify of the commands of Tur. At sight of them Xaxa cried aloud in relief.

“To me! To the Jeddara!” she cried. “Strike down these assassins and save me!”

There were three of them and there were three of us, but they were armed and between us we had but Xaxa’s slender dagger. Gor Hajus carried that. Victory seemed turned to defeat as they rushed towards us; but it was Gor Hajus who gave them pause. He seized Xaxa and raised the blade, its point above her heart. “Halt!” he cried, “or I strike.”

The warriors hesitated; Xaxa was silent, stricken with fear. Thus we stood in stalemate when, just beyond the three Phundahlian warriors, I saw a movement at the roof’s edge. What was it? In the dim light I saw something that seemed a human head, and yet unhuman, rise slowly above the edge of the roof, and then, silently, a great form followed, and then I recognized it⁠—Hovan Du, the great white ape.

“Tell them,” I cried to Xaxa in a loud voice that Hovan Du might hear, “that I am Tur, for see, I come again in the semblance of a white ape!” and I pointed to Hovan Du. “I would not destroy these poor warriors. Let them lay down their weapons and go in peace.”

The men turned, and seeing the great ape standing there behind them, materialized, it might have been, out of thin air, were shaken.

“Who is he, Jeddara?” demanded one of the men.

“It is Tur,” replied Xaxa in a weak voice; “but save me from him! Save me from him!”

“Throw down your weapons and your harness and fly!” I commanded, “or Tur will strike you dead. Heard you not the people rushing from the palace at Tur’s command? How think you we brought Xaxa hither with a lesser power than Tur’s when all her palace was filled with her fighting men? Go, while yet you may in safety.”

One of them unbuckled his harness and threw it with his weapons upon the roof, and as he started at a run for the spiral his companions followed his example. Then Hovan Du approached us.

“Well done, Vad Varo,” he growled, “though I know not what it is all about.”

“That you shall know later,” I told him, “but now we must find a swift flier and be upon our way. Where is Sag Or? Does he still live?”

“I have him securely bound and safely hidden in one of the high towers of the palace,” replied the ape. “It will be easy to get him when we have launched a flier.”

Xaxa was eyeing us ragefully. “You are not Tur!” she cried. “The ape has exposed you.”

“But too late to profit you in any way, Jeddara,” I assured her. “Nor could you convince one of your people who stood in the temple this night that I am not Tur. Nor do you, yourself, know that I am not. The ways of Tur, the all-powerful, all-knowing, are beyond the conception of mortal man. To you then, Jeddara, I am Tur, and you will find me all-powerful enough for my purposes.”

I think she was still perplexed as we found and dragged forth a flier, aboard which we placed her, and turned the craft’s nose towards a lofty tower where Hovan Du told us lay Sag Or.

“I shall be glad to see myself again,” said Dar Tarus, with a laugh.

“And you shall be yourself again, Dar Tarus,” I told him, “as soon as ever we can come again to the pits of Ras Thavas.”

“Would that I might be reunited with my sweet Kara Vasa,” he sighed. “Then, Vad Varo, the last full measure of my gratitude would be yours.”

“Where may we find her?”

“Alas, I do not know. It was while I was searching for her that I was apprehended by the agents of Xaxa. I had been to her father’s palace only to learn that he had