"I sail at once upon the Vanator," he said, "in search of Tara of
Helium who is thought to have been carried away upon a one-man flier by
the storm. I do not need to explain to you the slender chances the
Vanator has to withstand the fury of the tempest, nor will I order you
to your deaths. Let those who wish remain behind without dishonor. The
others will follow me," and he leaped for the rope ladder that lashed
wildly in the gale.
The first man to follow him was Tanus and when the last reached the
deck of the cruiser there remained upon the palace roof only the twelve
warriors of Helium, who, with naked swords, had taken the posts of the
Gatholians at the moorings.
Not a single warrior who had remained aboard the Vanator would leave
her now.
"I expected no less," said Gahan, as with the help of those already on
the deck he and the others found secure lashings. The commander of the
Vanator shook his head. He loved his trim craft, the pride of her class
in the little navy of Gathol. It was of her he thought--not of himself.
He saw her lying torn and twisted upon the ochre vegetation of some
distant sea-bottom, to be presently overrun and looted by some savage,
green horde. He looked at Gahan.
"Are you ready, San Tothis?" asked the jed.
"All is ready."
"Then cut away!"
Word was passed across the deck and over the side to the Heliumetic
warriors below that at the third gun they were to cut away. Twelve keen
swords must strike simultaneously and with equal power, and each must
sever completely and instantly three strands of heavy cable that no
loose end fouling a block bring immediate disaster upon the Vanator.
Boom! The voice of the signal gun rolled down through the screaming
wind to the twelve warriors upon the roof. Boom! Twelve swords were
raised above twelve brawny shoulders. Boom! Twelve keen edges severed
twelve complaining moorings, clean and as one.
The Vanator, her propellors whirling, shot forward with the storm. The
tempest struck her in the stern as with a mailed fist and stood the
great ship upon her nose, and then it caught her and spun her as a
child's top spins; and upon the palace roof the twelve men looked on in
silent helplessness and prayed for the souls of the brave warriors who
were going to their death. And others saw, from Helium's lofty landing
stages and from a thousand hangars upon a thousand roofs; but only for
an instant did the preparations stop that would send other brave men
into the frightful maelstrom of that apparently hopeless search, for
such is the courage of the warriors of Barsoom.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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