Life on other planets -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction
"When they had obtained as much milk as they required they returned to
Xanator, bringing me with them. The rest you know."
"This is Xanator?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied.
"And what is your name?" I asked.
"Tavia," she replied. "And what is yours?"
"Tan Hadron of Hastor," I replied.
"It is a nice name," she said. There was a certain boyish frankness
about the way she said it that convinced me that she would have been
just as quick to tell me had she not liked my name. There was no
suggestion of brainless flattery in her tone and I was to learn, as I
became better acquainted with her, that honesty and candor were two
of her marked characteristics, but at the moment I was giving such
matters little thought since my mind was occupied with a portion of her
narrative that had suggested to me an easy and swift method of escape
from our predicament.
"Do you believe," I asked, "that you can find the mantalia grove where
you hid your flier?"
"I am positive of it," she replied.
"Will the craft carry two?" I asked.
"It is a one-man flier," she replied, "but it will carry both of us,
though both its speed and altitude will be reduced."
She told me that the grove lay to the southeast of Xanator and
accordingly I turned the thoat's head toward the east. After we had
passed well beyond the limits of the city we moved in a southerly
direction down out of the hills onto the dead sea bottom.
Thuria was winging her swift flight through the heavens, casting
strange and ever moving shadows upon the ocher moss that covered the
ground, while far above cold Cluros took his slow and stately way. The
light of the two moons clearly illuminated the landscape and I was sure
that keen eyes could easily have detected us from the ruins of Xanator,
although the swiftly moving shadows cast by Thuria were helpful to us
since the shadows of every shrub and stunted tree produced a riot of
movement upon the surface of the sea bottom in which our own moving
shadow was less conspicuous, but the hope that I entertained most
fondly was that all of the thoats had followed our beast from the
courtyard and that the green Martian warriors were left dismounted, in
which event no pursuit could overtake us.
The great beast that was carrying us moved swiftly and silently so
that it was not long before we saw in the distance the shadowy foliage
of the mantalia grove and shortly afterward we entered its gloomy
confines. It was not without considerable difficulty, however, that
we located Tavia's flier, and mighty glad was I, too, when we found
it in good condition for we had seen more than a single shadowy form
slinking through the forest and I knew that the fierce animals of the
barren hills and the great white apes of the ruined cities were equally
fond of the milk of the mantalia and that we should be fortunate,
indeed, if we escaped an encounter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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