1899- Journey to Mars

“I don’t know. So far we’ve seen a lot of Mr. Cort and a little of Dr. Conklin. This time I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a whole hell of a lot more of both.”

[ 39 ]

John Carter moved as fast as he could without hazarding breaking his neck. The corridors of the Argent were narrow. The ship was not designed for so many passengers.

“Bixie!” he called.

“Dis way!” she shouted back. “In dah kitchen, brewin’ away.”

Carter ceased his forward plunge at the hatchway into the kitchen.

“Quick, Ms. Cottontree—do you have anything that will stop an army?”

“Dah army of killers and the carrot tops, you mean.”

“Yes ma’am. That army.”

Bixie laughed, and the sound was chilling in Carter’s ears. “You go on and be gathering up the fire-sticks. Bixie has brewed sumptin...special.”

The woman smiled.

“Good enough. Be at the main hatch in two minutes. This is what we call war.”

When he was gone, Bixie removed her apron, rolled it up and stuck it in a cabinet. “You, my son of dah slavin’ states, has never seen a real war. Yet.”

Carter found the weapons locker where Billy indicated and began loading his arms with what appeared to be odd long-rifles and pistols. Each of these strange devices had octagonal barrels and wide bores of a calibre larger than some elephant guns he had fired. Also, they had weird, blue liquid phials attached beneath the stocks of the rifles and mounted where a sight would have been on the pistols.

“I hope Billy knows what the hell he’s doing.”

“He does,” Ekka said as she came down. “Those are what’s left of the JPM rifles and pistols our friends Denys Jay-Patten and Mr. Merkam invented.” Ekka took one of the pistols from Carter. She thumbed a stud above what should have been the hammer and the mounted phial on top recessed into the pistol and disappeared with a satisfying snik. She then reached into the locker and removed a round drum and attached it to the butt of the pistol with yet another sound. The gun hummed in her hand.

“This thing will not only blast a hole through a man, it will send it through twenty of them if you stand them in line. And best yet, no recoil.” Ekka smiled. She held up the gun and aimed at the ten-foot wide main hatch. “When you press the trigger, the gun fires and continues to fire until you release the trigger or the drum runs out of bullets.”

“Damn. It’s automatic, then.”

She nodded.

Carter admired her stance and the way her leather harness fit her. “Mrs. Gostman, I believe you are the most beautiful woman in the whole world.”

She raised an eyebrow and regarded him.

“With all due respect to Mr. Gostman, that is.”

Dakota came into the compartment, followed quickly by Avi Rathmandu, Ian, Billy and finally Pat Garrett.

Edgar Burroughs emerged from the hatch that led to the engine room.

“Billy,” he said. “With that big ship on top of us, the engines can’t get a proper field balance. We’re dead in the water until she’s off of us.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Billy turned to Dakota. “You know that hiding place you were in that time your mom and I and even Guthrie couldn’t find you?”

“Yes sir,” Dakota said.

“I want you to get in there and don’t come out until you hear me calling for you. Can you hear the ship-wide tube from there?”

“I sure can. About why I acted like I couldn’t hear you and mom. It was because I didn’t want you to whup me.”

“How many times have I ever whupped you, son?” Billy asked.