“This is a damned strange world,” Pat Garrett said. “I can’t wait to get this suit off of me.”
“Same here,” John Carter agreed.
When everyone had dismounted, Dejah Thoris stepped to the cliff face, removed her sword and tapped the hilt on the rock in a thrumming beat. She did it so fast that no one—except perhaps Guthrie—would be able to remember the combination.
After a moment a straight crack appeared in the rock and widened to become a tall doorway.
“Come, friends,” she said, and beckoned.
[ 72 ]
Inside the first doorway Dejah Thoris admonished them to remove their helmets. Billy was first and tested the air. The antechamber could have fit the entire Argent inside its high walls. Amber electric lights illuminated the place from high overhead.
“The air seems fine to me,” Billy said, and handed his helmet to one of the Princess’s guards. He motioned and the Argent crew began removing their suits.
“Ma’am,” John Carter said to Dejah Thoris, “how does one go about getting one of those fine blades?”
“When you prove yourself a warrior. I think that you could do that, John Carter.” Her eyes danced over his broad shoulders and chest and came to rest upon his steely-blue eyes. “I see your friend has a blade. Perhaps he has proven himself in battle.”
“That he has,” Carter admitted. “Time and again.”
“Good. We have need of adept swordsmen upon Barsoom.”
Ian stepped forward and removed his claymore from its scabbard. He held it to the Princess pommel first.
Dejah hefted it. She stepped away from her guards and swung the blade in a figure eight, then twirled it about, threw it high into the air where the tip of the blade made a perfect arc that smashed one of the small electric lights. As it came back down, she looked at Ian, held out her hand and caught the pommel.
“Good blade,” she said, and handed it back to Ian, who examined the blade as if he were seeing it for the first time. He gently put it back in its scabbard without a word.
Bixie Cottontree laughed. “Dere be wonders, and den dere be wonders. You folks taint seen a ting yet.”
Ekka nodded. To Billy she whispered, “I get the feelings she’s right.”
Once all of the helmets and suits were doffed and hung up next to the military gear adorning the walls, Dejah beckoned a second time.
A second doorway opened into a vast cavern with thousands of twinkling lights illuminating a small city.
“Whoa!” Dakota shouted. “Dad, do you see it?”
“I see it, son. Try to keep your jaw off the floor.”
“We keep a garrison of troops here,” Dejah said and a sweep of her many-braceleted arm took in the whole cavern, “to defend the Atmosphere Factory.”
“Where is the factory?” Billy asked. “Is it on the surface overhead?”
Dejah turned, as if she were about to explain, then thought better of it. “Come,” she said instead, “let us feast. There will be time for stories this night.”
[ 73 ]
The crew of the Argent was led into a great hall where a long table was busily set by several red men. Once the heavy cups and large platters were put in place, the food began arriving. There were bowls of a thick soup of some kind with sharply-spiced tubers and hunks of reddish-brown meat.
The soup smelled good and made Pat Garrett’s teeth ache. “I think I’ll have some of that,” he said.
“I think I’ll have some of everything,” Ian chattered and quickly took a seat.
“Sit, my friends,” Dejah Thoris said.
“I shall stand,” Guthrie stated, then, “if that is all right.”