Captain Andrew Ross USAF, whose brain has been transplanted into the body of the beautiful red Martian princess, Vali Dar, has been attacked by an assassin but complications arise when she wants to learn to defend herself.

The story is written as pulp fiction and is an attempt to copy the writing style of the early twentieth century. As in most of Edgar Rice Burroughs stories, the heroes are strong, faithful, and valiant; the women are beautiful, virtuous, and adored; while the villains are cruel, cowardly,and despicably evil.

In the end good always triumphs over evil.

The day following my audience when Dar Tarus granted me the independence to leave my apartment I immediately engaged Lay Thee to aid me in my exploration of Phundahl’s immense palace even though I was not assigned a body guard. We searched diligently for most of the morning but after becoming hopelessly lost we relied upon the palace’s servants who with quizzical looks directed us through the hallways and corridors to the area I was seeking. As the Jeddak predicted in my interview, my desire to learn Martian combat skills would draw attention and cause gossip.

Before we entered the large chamber containing the armory familiar sounds of military men working and jesting could be heard from the hallway. The palace arsenal not only contained a supply of weapons such as swords, daggers, along with radium firearms but also forges, lathes, and other machines which milled and repaired the martial equipment. When I entered the armory accompanied by Lay Thee a noticeable hush rippled across the workplace leaving only the machinery to hum.

“Princess? Ah…ah…is there something I can do for you? Are you in need of aid?” One of the lathe operators stepped forward to stutter a question.

“Yes. Who do I see to obtain….,” I began.

“What is happening? Why aren’t you men work…,” a large man in a machinist’s leather apron pushing his way through the gathering crowd growled until he saw me. “Princess…what are you doing here…I mean…what can we do for you?”

“You are the supervisor?” I questioned and received a nod from the large man.

“No doubt you have heard of the recent attempt on my life. Since I am not ready to meet Tur or Issus yet, I require weapons to defend myself,” I explained.

“Is there something wrong with your dagger?” His eyes drifted to the slim blade on my thigh.

“Not at all,” I drew the long, wicked stiletto holding it up, “but I will need others. I would like to have a sword and a radium pistol with ammunition.”

“What for?” He asked surprised.

“To defend myself against those who would attack my person.”

My answered caused several men behind the foreman to laugh outright while others looked at one another with sly smiles or quick nods of their heads. I offered a cool stare at those machinists who were vocal in their ridicule and slammed my dagger back in its sheath. The foreman studied me with open mouth disbelief, gathered his wits then hooked his thumbs in the thongs tying his apron.

“Princess, you may choose any weapon you see here but we do not have the time to exhibit all the weapons in the hall or teach you their proper use,” he stated in a flat but respectful tone.

For those who have not realized Barsoom is a very technological advanced planet with scientific achievements not matched by Earth but it is also a world very tightly bound by tradition. The citizens of Barsoom have access to highly sophisticated transportation systems, unparalleled medical services, and unrivaled use of robotic labor but societal evolution has stagnated not advancing past a system of hereditary monarchy. The vast majorities of Martian city states are ruled by Jeddaks, which are men who either by lineage or skill of their sword came to power.

Women on Barsoom rarely rise to positions of power except through inheritance and, as was the case on Earth, are used as collateral or surety in creating alliances with other city states through marriage. Prominent families seldom instruct their woman to the same level of marital skill as their men are. These pampered women are educated in areas of conversation, politics, literature, music, and dance thus making them more attractive companions to future suitors.

“If the Princess will take the word of a mere warrior, I shall advise her on her selection of arms and equipment,” a familiar voice behind me offered.

“Lorn Jal!” I declared facing him.

“Yes, Princess. We seem to meet in the oddest places,” he quipped.

“It seems so. What a serendipitous meeting. A guardsman of Phundahl should be able to select an appropriate weapon for one of its citizens.”

“An excellent idea, Princess! Lorn Jal knows the armory better than anyone except for me,” the supervisor stated.

The guardsman acknowledged the compliment by tilting his head toward the large man then stepped past Lay Thee, I, and the group of craftsmen to a rack containing swords of various lengths where he selected a basket hilted rapier, which he handed to me. The padwar motioned for us to follow him through the assorted stands of weapons to an area where he chose a stout, plain leather harness adorned only with steel buckles along with various locking rings. Handing me the harness, Lorn Jal moved to the opposite side of the armory striding up to a counter in front of the hall which stored the firearms.

Once at the counter, he greeted the teller with a familiar shout and presented my request for a radium pistol. After a brief discussion, the clerk nodded, asked me to scan my thumb print on a desk top panel then disappeared between the racks. He soon brought back a pistol and a holster along with several empty magazines handing them to me. Thanking the supply clerk, we left the armory heading toward one of the buildings containing the supply of munitions for the city.

For obvious reasons ammunition is kept separate from the arms and in different locations throughout the city, making resupply efforts easier and if an accident were to occur only a portion of the ammunition would be lost in the resulting explosion. Martian armaments employ radium instead of gunpowder as the propellant in their cartridges. The radium contained in the rounds has an extreme reaction when subjected to ultraviolet radiation causing a similar but more violent detonation like gunpowder. Radium is also placed with the shot in the opaque front end of the casing and causes great explosions when the casing breaks allowing the mineral to be exposed to sunlight. It is not uncommon to witness hundreds of radium explosions at dawn following a night battle.

When we obtained sufficient ammunition for my sidearm from the munitions depot Lorn Jal took us to one of the many public ranges where he instructed Lay Thee and me on loading, unloading, and firing the weapon. We took turns firing the pistol; I first followed by Lay Thee with the guardsman coaching us on our stance or target picture. After target practice Lorn Jar gallantly escorted us back to my apartment in the palace to show me how to clean my pistol.

A few xats after Lorn Jal had left the two sentries opened the doors to my quarters letting in a strikingly beautiful woman accompanied by a procession of ladies. The woman was tall with white skin and cold blue eyes that lanced out from underneath a crown of platinum hair cascading to her slim waist; her manner proclaimed her status far more than the gold, jewels, or gems she wore. Spying me she opened her arms widely beckoning me.

“Vali!” She cried, “I am so upset at Dar Tarus. I was not allowed to see you until he gave me permission to do so!”

“Aejine Setas,” I said, “I am honored you visit my chambers. I would have gladly come to you to pay my respects when summoned.”

The pale goddess embraced me so tightly I was left breathless for a fraction of a tal then she leaned down to gently place a kiss upon my cheek. Taking a step back she placed her hands on her slender hips and gazed at me with a puzzled look.

“What are you wearing, my dear?”

“A harness,” I replied.

“I can see that. Why are you wearing it?”

I went to a nearby mirror where I paused to study my reflection then I said, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? I like the way it looks on me.”

Several of the women behind Aejine Setas gasped at my confession. She held a finger up immediately silencing her flock her ice blue eyes not leaving mine. She smiled sympathetically at me for a tal.

“Oh Vali, it is a warrior’s harness…a man’s harness. Why would any women want to wear one?” She questioned, appalled.

“It’s only a leather belt held by shoulder and leg straps. How else will I carry my weapons?”

“Weapons? Don’t you have a dagger?”

“Yes, but I will need more than a knife if I am to protect myself.”

“Vali, there are two warriors outside your door, two in the rooms above you, and a warrior who watches your apartment from across the avenue,” she pointed out the balcony door to a building in the distance, “Dar Tarus has taken all precautions to keep you safe.”

“The assassin was able to breach the assigned security before. Another may try. I want to be able to defend myself.”

“Vali,” the goddess said as her manicured fingernails brushed the few strands of hair from my face, “you look very cute in your leathers with your toys but they don’t make you a warrior. Why don’t you and your slave come with us this evening; we plan to go to hear Lam Eristas’ latest poem followed by an excellent dinner? Wouldn’t you prefer that much more than dressing up in these things?”

“Aejine Setas, I would consider it an honor to attend the reading with you and your retinue; however, I must regrettably decline. The guardsman, Lorn Jal, has promised me to teach me to operate a flyer.”

“Operate a flyer?” She cried out, “How will you operate a flyer when heights frighten you? What happened to you in the marshes? Did that horrid Ras Thavas experiment on you?”

“No Aejine Setas, he did not,” I lied.

“Why are you acting so strange then? You shouldn’t be doing these things.”

“What am I doing wrong?” I asked.

“Wrong? You are dressing and acting like a man.”

“It is only a leather belt and I just want to be able to protect myself. That is all.”

“It is wrong Vali,” she said

“It is nothing of the kind.”

“I will inform my husband of your actions. I am sure he will not be pleased to find his daughter acting so oddly.”

“Dar Tarus gave his permission for me to carry weapons and learn how to pilot a flyer,” I lied again knowing I did not obtain the Jeddak’s consent for flight lessons.

“I am not going to argue with you. You know better. My invitation stands for this afternoon, please reconsider and come with us.”

Without waiting for a response Aejine Setas left my chambers her attendants dutifully following her long strides.

*****************************************

I felt little wind on the roof of the great palace that served as an aerodrome for the Phundahl’s guard as I waited for Lorn Jal who offered to instruct me in piloting the small one and two man aircraft used on Barsoom. A large number of these crafts were moored along the edge floating gently above the tiles fueled and ready to be flown.

“Princess, are you ready for your first lesson?” Lorn Jal asked cheerfully exiting the flight tower.

“Yes, I am ready to get back into the air,” I replied.

“Oh? I was under the impression you didn’t care for flying.”

“What I mean is I’ve been practicing on the IAM and cannot wait to pilot a real ship,” I hastily explained.

“It is fortunate you have been studying a flight simulator. What level of competence did you achieve?”

“E-4 on a Banth II,” I said searching the moored boats for that particular model.

“E-4!” He exclaimed, “You are jesting.”

“Not at all. I completed the emergency maneuvers assessment the very night I was attacked.”

He laughed heartily but then quieted when he saw the anger flash in my eyes. He cleared his throat and explained, “I am a level E-3. I am sure there are things you could show me. How long have you been practicing?”

“Since I’ve returned from the marshes of Toonal.

“And you made it to a competency level 4 since then?”

“Yes, my certificate is on file with the Bureau of Records, if you care to check,” I said.

“I am impressed Dali Var,” he said with a smile, “I will have to inform you that actually piloting a ship is more difficult than completing a simulation. There is our ship,” Lorn Jal announced pointing towards a flyer moored at the end of the roof’s landing strip.

When we walked to the end of the aerodrome I discovered the boat was not the same craft I completed my recent assessment on but what is referred to as a Javelin. The Banth II is an ordinary, commercially available to the public while this particular flyer is a two man model; a common vehicle in service by the Phundahl’s military forces. We climbed aboard the floating two man craft, completed the preflight check; released the mooring lines to rise silently and gracefully into the red Martian sky.

Like most aspects of Martian life transportation is influenced by their harsh struggle for existence. Ground movement is designed to encounter others on the right allowing a weapon to be drawn and used. Movement in the air is controlled by direction and vertical positioning. Traffic travelling north is thirty feet off the street level, eastbound flyers are at an additional thirty feet while south heading aircraft are ninety feet from the surface, and westbound flights are one hundred and twenty feet from the ground. Only state and military traffic are allowed above 150 feet.

We slipped quickly into a southbound altitude matching the other air vehicles’ forward movement flanked on either side by large buildings and spires. Lorn Jal instructed me to continue on a south course when in a few xats the city gates appeared below us followed by the marshes. The guardsman told me to ascend to a height well above the elevation reserved for official vehicles where he assessed my professed level of competence.

After I passed all of the prescribed flight tests I was given permission to feely explore the surrounding area. Seizing the opportunity, I explored the limits of the aircraft pushing the two man flyer through several difficult maneuvers I learned through the IAM simulations.

“By Tur, you are a natural pilot!” He shouted.

“This little baby handles way better than an F-4,” I laughed putting the flyer into a steep dive.

“What is an ‘eff for’?” He looked at me puzzled.

“Uh…a new simulation,” I lied.
Leveling off, I begin to play with the craft’s throttle along with other control’s testing the vehicle’s speed capability trying to find the combination to the secret I remembered reading about on Earth. After several attempts Lorn Jal questioned what I was trying to accomplish when I discovered the answer causing the craft to leap forward at an incredible rate of speed.

“How did you do that?” He asked incredulously.

“It’s called ‘gearing’,” I answered gaily increasing the rate even more.

“This is unheard of. I have never seen a flyer move so swiftly,” he stated examining the velocity gauge.

“I understand Helium’s pilots use a similar method to increase their vehicles’ speed,” I stated.

I continued on my set course for several xats clearing the marshes and flying over the ochre ground cover when in the distance large ruins appeared on the horizon. I pushed the throttle forward increasing the two man flyer’s velocity heading toward the uninhabited city to see only crumbling buildings, collapsing bridges, and disintegrating avenues as what remained of the once enormous metropolis. We circled the decomposing city walls several times examining the urban cadaver.

Completing our brief survey I banked the aircraft in a long arc setting a course toward Phundahl. Rapidly, the two man flyer covered the distance to the city and shot passed the outer wall. I did not decrease the speed or altitude of my ship even though I heard the wail of an alert siren but boosted its velocity until the palace was in sight. I dropped the nose as I circled the pad, decreasing speed until I smoothly pulled into the craft’s assigned berth

After we moored the ship, Lorn Jal stepped down onto the palace’s roof doubling as a tarmac where I leaped into my instructor’s arms. Without hesitation I kissed him passionately and he fiercely returned my embrace. It was with the realization of what I was doing when I stepped back hastily my face burning with embarrassment.

“I beg your forgiveness, I forget myself, Princess,” he stated after I broke away.

“I am the one to ask your forgiveness. I dishonor myself,” I said ashamed.

“Not so. I took advantage of your happiness over your success,” he replied.

“Let neither of us speak anymore of being ashamed,” I whispered.

I looked up at his handsome face waiting for his acceptance when several patrols boats hovered over us while many more surrounded the aerodrome and warriors burst from the doors leading to the palace. The guardsmen ringed about us with swords drawn awaiting the arrival of the officer of the day who recognized us immediately. After a brief explanation by Lorn Jal of my flight the officer sternly but tactfully admonished me for my disregard for flight and landing protocols.
I accepted my reprimand offering my apologies with coquettish humility to the officer then took Lorn Jal by the hand leading him past the officer and squad of men into the palace. Quickly we fled down several ramps to the level which held the royal apartments too soon reaching the doors to my chambers guarded by two sentries. I did not want the afternoon to end.

“I am glad to say your flight assessment was excellent. I will inform the Bureau of Records. You will have to teach me this trick of ‘gearing’, Princess.”

“It is a simple manipulation of various controls. I will do so. I look forward to our next flight, instructor.”

“Excellent! This will greatly improve Phundahl’s navy’s effectiveness,” he said smiling, “but it is I who will be calling you instructor.”

Giggling, I asked, “My passing calls for a celebration. Have you heard of the poet, Lam Eristas? I am told he has lately penned a wonderful new sonnet. Would you like to accompany me to listen to his completed work and perhaps have a late dinner?”

He silently blinked at me several times his mouth agape. Suddenly, it struck me what I had done; my stomach lurched and I looked to the two burly sentries standing at attention, I felt embarrassed by his silence. I lifted my chin in an attempt to regain what little honor remained to Vali Dar then turned to grasp one of the doors’ handle.

“Princess, you honor me with your offer to act as your personal guard. My sword is yours,” he gallantly said drawing his blade placing it on the tiles at my feet.

I picked up the blade and handed the weapon back to Lorn Jal. “I believe you to be capable of the responsibility. I am sure you have the complete trust of the Jeddak,” my eyes wet with gratitude, “Be here to escort me to the palladium at the first quarter of the sixth zode.”

I entered my apartments quickly shutting the door behind me then leaning my back against it regretting my recent faux pas. Seeing my reaction Lay Thee arose from one of the couches to run to my side. I took her hand and squeezed it. As I walked toward my bedchamber I began unbuckling the straps that held my leathers on with the slave girl following me into my room; there she aided me in removing the harness holding my weapons placing it to the side.

“How did your lesson go with the padwar?”

“I passed my flight examination. I am now authorized to pilot a two man flyer.”

“Congratulations, Princess. You must take me on a flight. It will be so much fun! We could go
out of the city to the plains or visit the ruins of Kodoth!”

I grinned at her enthusiasm momentarily forgetting my earlier mistakes, “Yes, we will take a flight to this Kodoth but I need to prepare for my evening. I will be attending the performance given by Lam Eristas tonight.”

“Alone?” She asked.

“No, Lorn Jal will be escorting me there as my personal guard,” I explained.

“Ooh! He is very powerful warrior and very handsome.” She exclaimed upon hearing the name.

“Mind your tongue.” I said and playfully struck at her.”

“We will have to make sure you are even more beautiful tonight.”

She motioned me to a nearby couch where she removed my sandals along with the stiletto laced to my thigh then led me to my sleeping dais. Once there she pushed me into the piles of soft apt furs and expensive silk sheets massaging the tenseness from my body. Soon she was humming quietly coaxing me into a soothing sleep.

I awoke to the sound of soft music coming from the IAM that Lay Thee had programmed. At the first cords of the music my body servant appeared to extricate me from my bed taking me into the bath. My bathing ritual completed once again Lay Thee skillfully applied my cosmetics, styled my hair into a beautiful coif then selected the jewelry I would wear to the performance.

A single low tone from an alarm bar indicating the midpoint of the 6th zode echoed throughout the palace. I stepped out onto the balcony to escape the loud reminder waiting impatiently for my escort to appear; there I watched Thuria the nearer moon overtake Cluros, the smaller moon in the cold Martian night sky. Hearing someone behind me I turned to find Lay Thee standing in the apartment wearing my leathers and weapons.

“Do not fear Princess, I will act as your escort and defender!” She exclaimed.

“Lay Thee you must not let anyone see you wearing those weapons.”

“I am not Lay Thee but the famed fighter, John Carter of Helium!” She stated striking a heroic pose. “I have fought countless enemies and killed hundreds of green men all across Barsoom,” she drew my long sword and thrust at several unseen enemies, “aha… taste my steel vile Warhoon calots.”

“You would be more than a match for The Warlord,” I giggled.

The door bar rang interrupting the mock battle and announcing Lorn Jal’s arrival. “Quick,” I said, “into my bedchamber, do not let yourself be seen wearing those arms.”

Startled by the gong, the girl had dropped the sword and darted out of the room only to return to fetch the abandoned weapon then escape once again. Meanwhile, I had rushed to the doors to prevent anyone from entering while my handmaiden scurried about. Once she was securely hidden from view I opened the door to receive my guest.

Lorn Jal entered my chamber dressed in his finest leathers with his best weapons strapped to his side; spotting me he bowed gracefully. After we exchanged pleasantries then chatted for a few xats the guardsman gallantly took my arm and escorted me from my chambers to the aerodrome.

We took the same two man flyer I used for my flight examination to the Palladium where we moored the flyer in the hall’s private dock then entered the playhouse. The theatre was crowded with Martians chatting and discussing the upcoming performance who paused to greet their returned princess, Vali Dar, warmly as Lorn Jal led me through the hall up to the royal box.

All Martians are extremely sociable; however, the red Martians are even more so than others, seeking out others to enjoy one another’s company. While the ability is there to communicate through wireless transmission, the IAM network, or even individual telepathy, most Martians prefer to speak and interact with each other in person. It is through this medium Martians believe greatest amount of knowledge can be transmitted.

Following the performance, Lorn Jal accompanied me to a fashionable restaurant for a late repast where we discussed the recital between courses. As our conversation progressed we soon found ourselves alone in the bistro; the guardsman shocked to find it late in the evening whisked me without delay to the palace. There he escorted me to my apartments, bidding me a good evening.

Entering the anteroom I called for Lay Thee to aid me in removing my jewelry then to bring a midnight refreshment. When she did not come or reply, I cried out to her again and went into her small quarters but did not find her there. I then went to my bedchamber to discover she was not there only to find the room in disarray. The furniture was overturned; a broken vase lay on the floor next to my blade while my radium pistol sat close to its holster behind an upset table, however, my leathers were nowhere to be found.

I rushed to the doors to shout at the sentries demanding to know if they had observed my handmaiden leave the apartment but they declined any knowledge of her whereabouts and desired to know what the cause of my alarm was. I did not want them to discover there was something amiss, so I told them nothing and asked they convey word to Lorn Jal to come at once bringing another set of leathers with him. When a confused, lone sentry darted away to deliver the message I returned to carefully examine my apartment for clues to the location of Lay Thee when Lorn Jal rushed into my chambers.

“Are you safe Princess?”

“Yes, but Lay Thee has disappeared!”

“It appears your servant has been abducted,” he stated reviewing the chaotic furnishings of my room, “The guards posted outside heard or saw nothing?”

“No, they are unaware. I fear the abductor believes her to be me,” I explained to him, “I did not want to raise the alarm. If the kidnapper discovers he has seized the wrong target he may kill Lay Thee. We cannot take that chance.”

The patrolman was checking my bedchambers for indications to the identity of the villain while I was buckling on the harness he brought for me. By the time I completed attaching my weapons to my new leathers; Lorn Jal had completed his investigation of my room and was standing on the balcony searching the rooftops across the avenue.

“The sentinel is not at his post,” he said pointing at one the roofs, “I fear the warriors in the chambers above are slain, however, their corpses may provide us clues to rogue’s identity and Lay Thee’s location.”

“Let us search the apartment above mine to determine if there are clues to where Lay Thee may be found.”

Exiting my chambers I instructed the sentries at my door not to inform anyone they had observed me or Lorn Jal. We hurried up the ramp to the chambers above mine where we discovered the expected corpses of the two guards. Lorn Jal thoroughly examined the bodies then searched the room for evidence that might lead us to my hand maiden.

“Princess, look at this,” he stated holding up a small square coin he found near one of the bodies, “it is currency from Amhor.”

“Amhor?” I asked.

“A city to the north of Phundahl.”

“What else have you detected?”

“These men were attacked from behind with a dagger. Note these marks on their cloaks; they were left by their assailant. It is mortar; it has not been used in hundreds of years. Whoever it was passed near ancient construction.”

“You mean like the ruins we passed over earlier today.”

“Possibly or in some pits under the city.”

The two of us left the apartments heading toward the aerodrome when an alarm bar sounded and a group of soldiers appeared from a corridor to go up the ramp ahead of us. Lorn Jal halted and bid me to duck in a foyer momentarily while he investigated the cause of the alarm. I had only to wait for a few xats when he came back to tell me the guards’ corpses had been discovered and my absence perceived. Also a foreign ship traveling at a great velocity had been spotted on a northern heading.

“Princess, you must return to your chambers. I have been ordered to lead the pursuit north to overtake the craft before it reaches the borders of Amhor.”

“I will go with you.”

“I am afraid that is not possible since you are thought to be the victim in this foul crime and not your servant.”

“Yes, I will return to my quarters. Lorn Jal, you must find her,” I begged.

“I will find her, Princess.”

I began to return to my apartments when I recalled what the patrolman had discovered; I turned and fled up the ramp to the palace rooftop where I leaped into an unused flyer. Unmooring the craft, I placed the flyer on a south bound course toward the deserted ruins of Kodoth.