Read Online Under the Moons of Mars by John Joseph Adams - Free Book Online
Authors: John Joseph Adams
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belonged to him, and the moral issue was never really up for discussion. He pried open the entrance to the incubator—of glass, like the roof—selected the nearest egg, brought it back outside, and, with his mouth watering in anticipation, used the haft of his knife to crack it open.
Unfortunately the embryo curled inside the egg was far too developed—and infinitely too ugly—for even a ravenous ape-man to consider eating. It looked to him rather like a cross between an Earth vulture chick and a dinosaur out of Pal-ul-don or Pellucidar. Tarzan found it so revolting that he promptly buried it in the sand, as deeply as he could. His stomach was just going to have to wait for better times. Tarzan of the Apes had gone hungry before.
Sleep, however . . . sleep was another matter, easier to deal with. Without hesitation—and having some notion of how cold Martian nights must be—the ape-man reentered the incubator and dug down into the soft, warm reddish soil that cushioned the great eggs. Food would be something to consider when he awakened. Snug in his shallow burrow, the ape-man matter-of-factly closed his eyes and went to dreamless sleep.
He awakened abruptly, guardian senses detecting the presence of enemies even down through the sands of Mars. He had clearly slept through the night, for the sun was just above the horizon and there was still a morning chill in the air. He blinked his eyes, not to clear his vision—Tarzan of the Apes always woke with all his jungle-trained senses completely alert—but because he perceived that the incubator was now surrounded by such beings as he had not seen since he encountered the Ant-Men of Minunia, who had briefly enslaved him and reduced him to their own size. But these creatures were the complete opposite of the Minunians, standing anywhere from twelve to fifteen feet high and very nearly as naked as he. Their skins were all various shades of dark green; each had an additional pair of arms, set approximately at waist level, and their red-eyed, expressionless faces were each furnished with a set of hoglike tusks jutting upward from the lower jaw. Their mounts were almost as formidable: Some ten feet high themselves, they had four legs on each side, which gave them something of the air of carnivorous caterpillars, since their enormous mouths seemed to stretch all the way to the back of their heads. The great green riders’ air of menace was distinctly heightened by the lances and projectile weapons of some sort that each carried—and that were all trained on him as he rose, breathed deeply, and left the incubator to stand before them, certain and unafraid.
Only two figures stood out among the twenty or so of this outlandish crew, by virtue of their relatively small size and their human features. One, though clad like the gigantic Martians, was obviously an Earthman: tall, dark-haired, and gray-eyed, like Tarzan himself, with a certain arrogance of bearing that made the ape-man dislike and distrust him on sight. The second . . . the second, red-skinned or no, was the loveliest woman Tarzan had ever seen, and he had known beauties from the highest English society to American movie sets to the mines and palaces of Opar. He had never considered allegiance to any woman other than his Jane Porter, never broken faith even in his imagination. But this one, from her cloud of black hair to her delicate feet, with her expression a blend of pride and wonder, of serenity and innocence . . .
Tarzan shook his head, conscious of his nakedness for the first time since his arrival in this strange world. The Earthman riding beside the red woman dismounted and strode toward Tarzan, plainly more at ease than he in the low Martian gravity. Halting some yards before the apeman, he asked, speaking with an unmistakable Tidewater accent, “Do you speak English, sir?”
“I do,” the ape-man replied evenly. “And French, and German, Arabic and Swahili and the tongues of the Mangani and the
Unfortunately the embryo curled inside the egg was far too developed—and infinitely too ugly—for even a ravenous ape-man to consider eating. It looked to him rather like a cross between an Earth vulture chick and a dinosaur out of Pal-ul-don or Pellucidar. Tarzan found it so revolting that he promptly buried it in the sand, as deeply as he could. His stomach was just going to have to wait for better times. Tarzan of the Apes had gone hungry before.
Sleep, however . . . sleep was another matter, easier to deal with. Without hesitation—and having some notion of how cold Martian nights must be—the ape-man reentered the incubator and dug down into the soft, warm reddish soil that cushioned the great eggs. Food would be something to consider when he awakened. Snug in his shallow burrow, the ape-man matter-of-factly closed his eyes and went to dreamless sleep.
He awakened abruptly, guardian senses detecting the presence of enemies even down through the sands of Mars. He had clearly slept through the night, for the sun was just above the horizon and there was still a morning chill in the air. He blinked his eyes, not to clear his vision—Tarzan of the Apes always woke with all his jungle-trained senses completely alert—but because he perceived that the incubator was now surrounded by such beings as he had not seen since he encountered the Ant-Men of Minunia, who had briefly enslaved him and reduced him to their own size. But these creatures were the complete opposite of the Minunians, standing anywhere from twelve to fifteen feet high and very nearly as naked as he. Their skins were all various shades of dark green; each had an additional pair of arms, set approximately at waist level, and their red-eyed, expressionless faces were each furnished with a set of hoglike tusks jutting upward from the lower jaw. Their mounts were almost as formidable: Some ten feet high themselves, they had four legs on each side, which gave them something of the air of carnivorous caterpillars, since their enormous mouths seemed to stretch all the way to the back of their heads. The great green riders’ air of menace was distinctly heightened by the lances and projectile weapons of some sort that each carried—and that were all trained on him as he rose, breathed deeply, and left the incubator to stand before them, certain and unafraid.
Only two figures stood out among the twenty or so of this outlandish crew, by virtue of their relatively small size and their human features. One, though clad like the gigantic Martians, was obviously an Earthman: tall, dark-haired, and gray-eyed, like Tarzan himself, with a certain arrogance of bearing that made the ape-man dislike and distrust him on sight. The second . . . the second, red-skinned or no, was the loveliest woman Tarzan had ever seen, and he had known beauties from the highest English society to American movie sets to the mines and palaces of Opar. He had never considered allegiance to any woman other than his Jane Porter, never broken faith even in his imagination. But this one, from her cloud of black hair to her delicate feet, with her expression a blend of pride and wonder, of serenity and innocence . . .
Tarzan shook his head, conscious of his nakedness for the first time since his arrival in this strange world. The Earthman riding beside the red woman dismounted and strode toward Tarzan, plainly more at ease than he in the low Martian gravity. Halting some yards before the apeman, he asked, speaking with an unmistakable Tidewater accent, “Do you speak English, sir?”
“I do,” the ape-man replied evenly. “And French, and German, Arabic and Swahili and the tongues of the Mangani and the
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