Every red Martian is taught during earliest childhood the principles of
the manufacture of atmosphere, but only two at one time ever hold the
secret of ingress to the great building, which, built as it is with
walls a hundred and fifty feet thick, is absolutely unassailable, even
the roof being guarded from assault by air craft by a glass covering
five feet thick.
The only fear they entertain of attack is from the green Martians or
some demented red man, as all Barsoomians realize that the very
existence of every form of life of Mars is dependent upon the
uninterrupted working of this plant.
One curious fact I discovered as I watched his thoughts was that the
outer doors are manipulated by telepathic means. The locks are so
finely adjusted that the doors are released by the action of a certain
combination of thought waves. To experiment with my new-found toy I
thought to surprise him into revealing this combination and so I asked
him in a casual manner how he had managed to unlock the massive doors
for me from the inner chambers of the building. As quick as a flash
there leaped to his mind nine Martian sounds, but as quickly faded as
he answered that this was a secret he must not divulge.
From then on his manner toward me changed as though he feared that he
had been surprised into divulging his great secret, and I read
suspicion and fear in his looks and thoughts, though his words were
still fair.
Before I retired for the night he promised to give me a letter to a
nearby agricultural officer who would help me on my way to Zodanga,
which he said, was the nearest Martian city.
"But be sure that you do not let them know you are bound for Helium as
they are at war with that country. My assistant and I are of no
country, we belong to all Barsoom and this talisman which we wear
protects us in all lands, even among the green men--though we do not
trust ourselves to their hands if we can avoid it," he added.
"And so good-night, my friend," he continued, "may you have a long and
restful sleep--yes, a long sleep."
And though he smiled pleasantly I saw in his thoughts the wish that he
had never admitted me, and then a picture of him standing over me in
the night, and the swift thrust of a long dagger and the half formed
words, "I am sorry, but it is for the best good of Barsoom."
As he closed the door of my chamber behind him his thoughts were cut
off from me as was the sight of him, which seemed strange to me in my
little knowledge of thought transference.
What was I to do? How could I escape through these mighty walls?
Easily could I kill him now that I was warned, but once he was dead I
could no more escape, and with the stopping of the machinery of the
great plant I should die with all the other inhabitants of the
planet--all, even Dejah Thoris were she not already dead. For the
others I did not give the snap of my finger, but the thought of Dejah
Thoris drove from my mind all desire to kill my mistaken host.