1899- Journey to Mars

“Where does it end up?” Ekka asked.

“The well.” Dejah pointed into the coming dawn. “It is an abandoned water well. The water is long gone now, as is most natural water on Barsoom, except near the polar regions.”

“But that well—” Billy began. He swallowed. “The enemy forces are headed for here. They will pass by the well.”

“They will pass by it on both sides,” Dejah stated.

“Guthrie,” Ekka said, the fear etched on her features. “Go and find my son. Defend him at all costs.”

Guthrie nodded, turned the sped away from the parapet.

[ 80 ]

Guthrie sped through the Atmosphere Factory in a whirling blur. He leapt from an inner parapet and dropped forty feet onto the smooth, black volcanic rock floor, then darted to the secret passageway to the stairs. Allowing his momentum to carry him, he used his downward momentum coupled with centrifugal force and bypassed the stair steps themselves, making his feet whir along the walls in a blurring downward spiral.

When he reached the based of the cavern, Guthrie sped across the open space to the niche where Dakota had retreated. Along the way he altered his programming to allow himself to be placed in jeopardy. This was no easy feat. He was not of Earth nor humanity. He was a servant to a wise race that had held the line of peace and concordance in the galaxy for millenia. Yet, here he had made preparations to interpose himself between any hazard and a young human with no sense of how to stifle his curiosity. While he could not remember his makers nor summon the simplest bit of data about them beyond the fact of his own existence and somewhat of his mission, he knew that he should not be able to go so far in this direction were it not a possibility contemplated and made allowance for before his creation. This gave Guthrie great comfort. His mind and his path were certain.

He searched near the crack where Dakota disappeared and worked out in tight circles until he found a hidden stairwell that descended into the well complex. Guthrie forced the door open and descended the stairs, listening for Dakota as he went.

[ 81 ]

“What you are planning here,” Billy said to Dejah, “is a form of suicide.” Billy tapped the chalk marks on the parapet. Little pip marks showed companies of men, and jagged lines showed routes of advance from the arc of the wall.

“How can defending these walls be suicide? It is the charge of a warrior—”

“A warrior maybe, but not a Princess. Princesses do not make good martyrs. But I’m not talking about simply defending the walls. I’m talking about waltzing out there and letting those hordes that you say are coming use you as target practice.”

“Billy,” Ekka said, “you have to give her an alternative plan. Something she can wrap her wits around.”

Billy nodded. “I’m not the military strategist,” he said. “But you are.”

“Right,” Ekka replied. “Well, right from the start we need to even the odds.”

At that moment Pat Garrett walked up and surveyed the desolate Martian landscape far below them. “Billy,” he said, “let me see your spy glass.”

Billy pulled his glass from his jacket pocket and handed it to Pat. The sheriff telescoped it open and scanned the horizon. “Is that them?” he asked, and handed it back.

Dejah snatched up the glass without further word and peered in the direction Pat was looking. “I see them,” she said. “It is the first column.”

“They’re all Jonathan Conklins,” Billy said. “An army of a thousand Jack the Rippers.”

“What is this you say,” Dejah began, “about evening the odds? I do not understand.”

Pat replied, “It’s a reference to wagering. Games of chance. You do not bet all of your holdings when the great weight of chance is against you. Instead, you use intelligence to figure a way of lessening that weight.”

“I think I see,” Dejah said. “But how? We know what is coming. We know what our weaknesses are. We know what we must do.”

Billy nodded. “Yes. But you have friends you didn’t have before.”

“I have an idea,” Ekka said. “I will need to go and bring back allies.”

“What allies?” both Billy and Dejah asked at the same instance.

“You’ll see. I’m going to take Bixie with me. You could say that I’ll need a little magic for this to work.”

Pat Garrett said, “Someone needs to tell me to do something. I’m not much of a commander.”

“Pat,” Billy said, “I need you to get back to the Argent. Get Eddie in gear and help him do whatever he needs to get the ship flying. We’ll need her before this is over.”