Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
Among them his warrior trappings were no more remarkable than is a pair
of trousers upon Broadway. All Martian men are warriors, save those
physically unable to bear arms. The tradesman and his clerk clank with
their martial trappings as they pursue their vocations. The schoolboy,
coming into the world, as he does, almost adult from the snowy shell
that has encompassed his development for five long years, knows so
little of life without a sword at his hip that he would feel the same
discomfiture at going abroad unarmed that an Earth boy would experience
in walking the streets knicker-bockerless.
Vas Kor’s destination lay in Greater Helium, which lies some
seventy-five miles across the level plain from Lesser Helium. He had
landed at the latter city because the air patrol is less suspicious and
alert than that above the larger metropolis where lies the palace of
the jeddak.
As he moved with the throng in the parklike canyon of the thoroughfare
the life of an awakening Martian city was in evidence about him.
Houses, raised high upon their slender metal columns for the night were
dropping gently toward the ground. Among the flowers upon the scarlet
sward which lies about the buildings children were already playing, and
comely women laughing and chatting with their neighbours as they culled
gorgeous blossoms for the vases within doors.
The pleasant “kaor” of the Barsoomian greeting fell continually upon
the ears of the stranger as friends and neighbours took up the duties
of a new day.
The district in which he had landed was residential—a district of
merchants of the more prosperous sort. Everywhere were evidences of
luxury and wealth. Slaves appeared upon every housetop with gorgeous
silks and costly furs, laying them in the sun for airing.
Jewel-encrusted women lolled even thus early upon the carven balconies
before their sleeping apartments. Later in the day they would repair to
the roofs when the slaves had arranged couches and pitched silken
canopies to shade them from the sun.
Strains of inspiring music broke pleasantly from open windows, for the
Martians have solved the problem of attuning the nerves pleasantly to
the sudden transition from sleep to waking that proves so difficult a
thing for most Earth folk.
Above him raced the long, light passenger fliers, plying, each in its
proper plane, between the numerous landing stages for internal
passenger traffic. Landing stages that tower high into the heavens are
for the great international passenger liners. Freighters have other
landing stages at various lower levels, to within a couple of hundred
feet of the ground; nor dare any flier rise or drop from one plane to
another except in certain restricted districts where horizontal traffic
is forbidden.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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