When The Princess Disappeared

BY THE BARDS OF BARSOOM

The Blurb, What is a Round Robin?, Foreword

Map of Thilum and Environs	Mar 1988 (Boxarth)
1. Dejah Thoris: The Girl	May 1997 (Bozarth)
2. Junie Watts: Living In Hell	Jun 1997 (Bearden)
3. Milieos: Houseguests	Jul 1997 (Nunez)
4. Dejah Thoris: "What is my purpose now?"	Aug 1997 (Bozarth)
5. Junie Watts: Life in Thilum	Sep 1997 (Bearden)
6: Milieos: Mundane to Murderous	Oct 1997 (Nunez)
7: Dejah Thoris: The Secret in The Hills	Nov 1997 (Bozarth)
8: Holkat: The Unknown People of Barsoom	Dec 1997 (Klasek)
9: Junie Watts: Thaandor	Jan 1998 (Bearden)
10: Milieos: The Science of War	Feb 1998 (Nunez)
11: Holkat: The Perpetual State	Mar 1998 (Bozarth)
12: Junie Watts: A Traitor In Thilum	Apr 1998 (Bozarth)
13: Dejah Thoris: Caged by Kindness	May 1998 (Bozarth)

The Blurb

The Bards of Barsoom bring to the World Wide Web the first Barsoomian pastiche serial ever! On or about the first of each month a new chapter will be published. When The Princess Disappeared is a story told from first person viewpoints. Each chapter heading identifies the principal narrator. Our serial deals with sensitive and serious subjects, therefore your comments and feedback are strongly desired. Let us know what you think of When The Princess Disappeared.

What is a Round Robin?

A round robin is an organized writing project where a group of authors challenge each other by producing sequential passages in a larger work. All round robins start with a basic premise suggested to all the players. A project format is agreed upon ie. how much output is expected and when to pass to the next author. The resulting work rapidly evolves into something unexpected and entertaining because imaginations are stretched and peer pressure exerts the utmost from the participants.

A Foreword from the authors:

Tangor (David Bruce Bozarth) Co-Author and Project Editor, May 1997

I have worked with my fellow Bards of Barsoom on a previous round robin project The Caverns of Mars. It was a "let's get acquainted" project that revealed a great potential for future works. The premise for When The Princess Disappeared is the result of messages between Jason Gridley (Andy Nunez), Tars Tarkas (Don Bearden) and myself after we concluded Caverns. That premise, "What if Dejah Thoris disappeared --intentionally-- and a black person transported to Barsoom from America shortly after Martin Luther King was assassinated, and that transportee was female, and Barsoomian biology and medicine were central to the story theme?" Hey, I just HAD to be part of THAT project!

Photo by James F. Thompson, copyright 1998

Jason Gridley (Andy Nunez} Co-Author, May 1997

I have been an ERB fan since I could understand English, and have wanted to write since high school, so writing ERB is my favorite thing in life other than my family. I just wish I could get paid for writing it! When Tangor first approached me with the Caverns of Mars idea, I thought, why not? At 25 lines a shot, it wouldn't take up much time. It turned out to be fun. I composed at the keyboard, putting down whatever came to mind while trying to keep true to Barsoom. You can judge the end result for yourselves elsewhere on this website. Tangor further challenged me with the current storyline. The challenge was what sold me. As a writer, I am continually trying to expand my experience so that hopefully I can produce something marketable. The idea of writing from a totally alien point of view was at first a little daunting, but I made up my mind to give it my all, and When the Princess Vanished was born. We three Bards have one thing in common. We love our subject matter and we want to give you readers nothing but the best. Tars Tarkas gave me some great stuff to bounce off of, so that by the time you readers are a good chunk into the story, some wild stuff is going on. Remember, though, that the story has a conscience. It's not a typical hack and slash. Think of it as a mirror of our youth. We have labored hard in the production of this epic, all for the fans. I hope you all enjoy it.

Tars Tarkas (Don Bearden) Co-Author, May 1997

(Foreword has not been received)

Erich von Harben (Terry Klasek) Co-Author, December 1997

I have loved English since my first literature course in high school. I discovered ERB in the early 60s. I got $3 per week from parents for lunch, and I worked in the lunchroom for FREE lunch! Hence, $3 per week for books. Discovered Sherlock Holmes, Doc Savage and pulp fiction as well. In 71 I founded a comic collectors club, and ended up enjoying writing every word the newsletter contained. Did a Holmes society for 4 years, and DID that newsletter too. Started a Short wave Radio club, and wrote and did the layout & design, too. I was conned into doing a monthly VFW District newsletter, and won National awards for writing and design for 3 years. Now I am doing a Vietnam vets of America newsletter. I have written many Holmes stories and articles, plus lots of poetry and fiction. Got the fanatic writing bug in college. Took Creative Writing I & II, Fiction Writing, Poetry Writing, Journalism (4 courses), and Play writing. Sold many things to magazines. I just HAD to get involved in some ERB writing, and I don't want to stop!

Chapter 1 - Dejah Thoris: The Girl

My husband is a marvelous man who occupies a singular position among the governments and institutions of Barsoom. He is known as "the Warlord," which title sets him above even the thirty- one Jeddaks of the planet. Because of his prominence, and mine as the Princess of Helium, demands are made upon us both, demands we acknowledge--and perform--when it is possible.

John Carter asked me to attend the national new year celebration at the palace of his old friend Kulan Tith. My husband could not attend, having to head some project of immediate need with the chief scientists of Helium, Zodanga and Gathol.

"You love the forests of Kaol this time of year," he had said. The lights were extinguished and a stillness had lain over our sleeping chamber that evening. His hand, callused from the constant practice of swordplay, touched me gently, a familiar caress that still thrilled me after these many years--but it was also a caress that irritated me as it was one a man might use to further his own ends rather than being forthright and honest.

"If you cannot attend, you cannot," I had responded by turning on my side to present my back and a cool shoulder. "I will gladly represent Helium. Perhaps Tara and the grandchildren might..."

Even before John replied I knew the answer to that wistful thought. My daughter was too busy--always too busy. Gahan insisted on private tutors. It was nearly impossible to see my daughter's children without a cadre of educators and guards in full attendance.

There was no possibility of Thuvia accompanying me. She was involved with preservation efforts for whatever endangered species had caught her fancy this year. Her children were away from home, spending the new year season with their grandfather in Ptarth. Carthoris, naturally, worked hand in hand with his father, thus I would travel alone to Kaol.

"I spoke to Jed Orl-Dan. His wife Rexa Hultan has agreed to accompany you as handmaiden," John whispered in my ear.

He put his arm about me, a hard column of muscle, and pulled me against his naked length. Damn him for assuming I would want that chattering fool of a young jed's wife as a travel companion and damn him for assuming my response to his caress!

His kisses on my throat warmed me, they fired me.

Damn me for responding!

Rexa Hultan is a beautiful woman. Though my husband claims I am the most beautiful woman on two planets, I sometimes have my doubts as there are many beautiful women in the courts of Barsoom. Rexa is tall, taller than I, and rounded in a plush manner. Her walk is an inviting gentle sway. I wondered if I moved as gracefully across the hanger tower's landing stage.

The Tjanath liner White Diamondhovered at the elevated departure platform. The White Diamondis a 400 passenger ship of new design, portly in appearance to provide more seating and overnight accommodations, yet well-streamlined for adequate speed. The trip to Kaol from Lesser Helium was to take three days and four nights--our departure was scheduled near sunset. John Carter came to see us off, though he was hurried by the presence of Carthoris and two Zodangans who had come to the hanger tower to catch the royal yacht.

"Sorry for the public transport, dear," John kissed me. "Though it might take a day longer, you'll probably enjoy the ride more--it is time for us to think about upgrading our personal transportation."

I smiled in response, though it lacked any emotion. What good would be served if I expressed dissatisfaction or anger? None. There were things I could change and should, and things I could change but shouldn't and there were things that never changed, but should and things I should change but couldn't--and changing John Carter's priorities when "the fate of the world hangs in the balance" as expressed between passionate kisses and making love is not one of those things I will ever change.

Rexa Hultan and I boarded the liner. We paused at the rail to wave goodbye, but Jack, my son, and the stern-faced Zodangans had already walked away. My husband did not look back. Peeved, I almost said something to Rexa, but thought better of it.

"Let us get settled in our cabins," I suggested. "We'll soon be underway."

The cabins aboard the White Diamondwere very adequate. Tjanath liners had a reputation for luxury in the air and I was relieved to find the claims valid. In my life I have traveled rough and have known severe hardship on the journey, therefore I have no desire to repeat such discomfort if avoidable.

The first class maid, a lovely Thern girl, efficiently stored my luggage then left to settle other passengers in our section. I heard heavy noises amidships, obviously large cargo was being taken aboard. Outside the open porthole, which faced away from the immense hanger tower, the view of Lesser Helium was splendid. My father's city lay across the gentle hills, stretching toward the coming sunset, and the subdued colors of private gardens and well-manicured public areas delighted the eye.

I love my country as much as I love my husband. The feelings of love for my family guide my every thought, my entire being. Honor and loyalty, outgrowths of my commitment to love, are very much part of my character. Yet, there is a small part of me that rebels at the convention and expectation--that unquestioned assumption that Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, consort of the Warlord, daughter and granddaughter of Jeddaks, will always be subservient to the needs of government or her husband!

Each year the tiny voice grows more insistent, filling my thoughts. Not the shared thoughts that all Barsoomians, and many of the higher orders of animals exchange telepathically, but those deep, inner voices of the secret mind, the part that is truly Dejah Thoris. I do not heed that voice for I am as rigidly ruled by social requirement as any wretch heeds the slave-master's whip on a Phundahlian slaver's chain. It galls me to have so little say in my destiny, yet I am most grateful to be loved by my heroic American, my family and my people. No arduous life do I lead, there is no physical want which cannot be satisfied, and I have my children and grandchildren; yet, I am unsatisfied at times...

A knock on the door reminds me that I am embarked on this "duty" Jack has asked of me. As there are few servants on the White Diamond, and none in my cabin, I answer the door myself. It was Rexa.

"Oh, do come on deck, dear. The ship is leaving and the view is breathtaking!"

Before I could form a shallow excuse Rexa took my elbow and drew me into the corridor. She closed the cabin door then escorted me topside. "I'll not let you miss it, your highness!"

The White Diamondwas free of all moorings and drifting southwest with the propellers at idle. When it was well away from the tower the props would be adjusted to bite the atmosphere, but at the moment, they provided a slight vibration and a curiously soothing hum.

Rexa took me to the rail where passengers waved to the nearly faceless throng atop the hanger's platform. I knew no one waved to me from below so I looked beyond the tower into the gathering twilight, thinking the sun had set on my life in the years since I fell in love with John Carter, Virginian.

The White Diamond is exceedingly fleet for such a large ship. The crew was well trained. Though the ship stopped at three connection points between Helium and Zodanga, my sleep was undisturbed. The following morning Rexa Hultan and I enjoyed a pleasant breakfast approximately one zode after departing Zodanga. The dining area was on the top deck and was glassed in on three sides facing onto the ship's transom. We could see where the ship had been but could see nothing of the country into which we headed.

"I say, Dejah Thoris, you are such poor company this morning! Did you not sleep well?"

I thinned my lips in apology. "I am preoccupied, dear. Perhaps a walk though Jhuma at the midday lay over will put me right."

Rexa arched a pretty brow. "You mean, 'walk'?"

I laughed. "Is there a problem with your leg? Does it, perhaps, a have a bone in it? Of course, 'walk'. We are grown women, Rexa. We can fend for ourselves."

My companion giggled. "I suppose so, but there are a great many entertainments on board ship."

"Gambling, theater, music...yes, but where is your spirit of adventure, girl? Have you no desire to see new places--and new faces?"

I sometimes forget that lesser royalty never tires of the Warlord's court though I have such utter familiarity with it. I could see Rexa Hultan's disappointment and again I was peeved, but with myself this time. "We'll do whatever you like today. Tomorrow we'll do whatever I like. Deal?"

I will say that Rexa Hultan, though often mistaken as being purely ornamental by those who do not give her credit for having intelligence, is also an intuitive woman when she makes the effort. "Oh, Dee, forgive me. You're the one who never gets out. We'll do what you want this trip. Some other time I will come rescue you from the palace and we'll do whatever I want. I won't take 'no' for an answer."

"Good! Then it's settled."

Shortly after noon, a time scheduled to avoid interference with serving lunch on the White Diamond, the huge Tjanath liner descended to the twin mooring masts of Jhuma, a small city north northwest of Zodanga. There are many such cities in the general area, but from this point on I will not provide specific locations for reasons which will soon become apparent.

We were near Polodana, the equator, and the temperature exceeded that of Helium's warmest days this time of year. Rexa and I wrapped ourselves in light drapes to reflect the greater part of the sun's heat and, in part, to disguise ourselves. We looked no different than the fifty or so passengers who disembarked to sightsee or to make other travel connections in the city. I glanced over my shoulder as we walked away from the ship's elevator, again impressed with the gleaming works of the huge liner hovering a handful of ads above the mooring field. Helium was not yet in production of commercial craft--our industry was primarily involved with manufacturing warships of various sizes for herself and any other nation which could afford to pay the rate.

Rexa was true to her word, being cheerful and enthusiastic. We had three zodes to explore Jhuma, enough time to cross the small city on foot three times over. As much as I love the bustle and vitality of the twin cities of Helium, I have a weakness for the slow pace of small towns, particularly the settlements which ring the great basins of the vanished oceans of Barsoom.

Jhuma had examples of architecture dating back 100,000 years, imposing structures fashioned from the bedrock of the planet. Next to those time-softened buildings were crude shacks cobbled together from such ephemeral materials as wood, canvas, or thoat hides. The juxtaposition of diverging cultures produced a charming ambience, a confirmation that the human existence was as enduring as the land itself.

I walked along, deep in my thoughts, studying everything with a critical eye. Rexa chattered pleasantly, remarking on things which interested her, though she was more intrigued by the color and smell of the place than any links to a distant past.

"And the people," she said. "They seem so friendly."

I chuckled. "The men, or the women, Rexa?"

"What do you mean?"

"If an unescorted woman is friendly to you, then she's probably friendly. If she has a man on her arm and is friendly, she is suspect. If a man is friendly to you, unescorted by a woman or not, he's probably interested in something else. You are gorgeous, Rexa Hultan. You will attract attention."

"No more than you, Dejah," Rexa laughed. "But we are both happily married women and such attentions are beneath our notice." She paused, then leaned closer and added with a wink, "Aren't they?"

We laughed quietly and walked on, arms linked together. I was not quite sure where we were, having turned around one too many times, but had no worries about returning to the ship because we had plenty of time and the town was so small. I simply enjoyed myself walking through the city as a woman--well, yes, a pretty woman--but drawing no further comment than on my beauty. I had no desire to draw attention as the Princess of Helium, or worse, brave the crowds that surely would have gathered had I been on the arm of my husband, Jack Carter, Jasoomian of infernal renown. I chided myself for minor perversities which that little rebel voice flushed out.

I laughed suddenly. "It has been fun getting out by ourselves, Rexa. I do hope you keep that promise to rescue me some time or other. I rarely enjoy a walk on a public street like we are doing right now."

Rexa said nothing, though she nodded, which was exactly the right thing to do. My opinion of the jed's wife rose tremendously.

We found a little shop which produced excellent jewelry and spent a xat there. I treated Rexa Hultan with a small pin as a memento of our visit, and she gave me a beautiful little ring. We walked out admiring our gifts and stopped to have a cool drink at a family-owned inn not far from the mooring field. Refreshed, Rexa and I began to turn unhurried steps toward the White Diamond.

Before we reached the field, however, we had to pass through a run-down section of town, having come nearly full circle in our wanderings. The street itself was clear, the local law enforcement taking some credit in that regard, but each curb was lined with rude hovels in which resided the sick, infirm, lame and deformed. Most larger Barsoomian settlements have such sections of outcasts and it was our ill-luck to have found this one by chance. I am not immune to the suffering of others, but I recognize my inability to help them all--and that realization only makes my empathy more difficult to bear.

Rexa was as quiet as I--our telepathic links were overloaded by the broadcast misery. It was this tremendous mental effect, more than the underlying disease and deformity, which caused the separation of ill from the healthy. My companion gradually wilted under the horrible burden with each step--again causing me to reexamine my preconceptions regarding the beautiful Rexa Hultan.

"Are you all right, dear?" I asked, taking Rexa's arm.

"I will manage," she stammered. "Oh, Dejah, is there nothing we can do?"

Moisture glistened in her eyes. I increased our pace, almost dragging Rexa along.

We were almost clear of the section when I stopped dead, amazed by what I saw. "Go ahead, Rexa. I'll join you shortly."

She would have refused, being loyal, but I pushed Rexa Hultan forward and her feet immediately responded to her inner suffering, though her sense of duty was compromised.

I paid no attention to Rexa after she started walking. I was more concerned with the small huddle squatting at the edge of the curb. The girl was black, like a First Born, but subtly different from that race. This person's hair was densely matted, intricately and tightly curled. Her skin glistened with sweat, something few Barsoomians do. Her nose was quite broad compared to the human races of my planet, though not unpleasant to look upon. Her mouth was large, with full, wide lips. Her cheekbones were high and broad, and her eyes somewhat deep-set beneath a strong brow. She was quite stunning in her appearance--or would have been if she were not half-starved. Legs and arms, where they protruded from the decrepit blanket wrapped about shoulders and body, were stick thin; the joints seemed overlarge because flesh and muscle were so spare.

Her appearance alone would have captured my attention, but it was her low band telepathic despair which drew me to the female. The broadcast was an unintelligible emotional appeal for help, totally devoid of actual communication!

The girl's hand was out, for surely she was not more than that in years, and her voice, dry and uncertain, pleaded, "Teepi. Teepi for the lame."

"You are not lame," I said.

She looked up at me with clouded eyes, as if she had not seen me approach. "Teepi?" she begged.

"Your name?" I asked.

"Teepi?" she repeated.

I asked her name again, but in the English my Jack had taught me over the years. I did so because my Virginian was telepathically inert, but even more so than this girl. "Who are you, child?"

Her reaction was no greater than had been mine when I learned Issus at Valley Dor had intended to kill me. The girl pushed away from me, eyes terrified. She wailed. "Oh Lord, have you sent a red angel to take me?"

As she lay there, arms raised to ward off a spirit or some unseen doom, I saw something else. The poor thing was hideously deformed. Her abdomen was swollen and it was not because of over-eating. Her stomach also displayed that anatomical feature that Jack, but no other except Vad Varo wore--a 'belly button'.

"Calm down, girl," I said. "Do you understand me?"

"Am I dead? Is this hell?"

"This is Barsoom--what your people call the planet Mars. What's wrong with you?"

The girl's terror decreased quickly--sane conversation tends to defuse horror. "What's wrong is I am not where I should be!"

I redirected my question with a pointing finger. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to have a baby."

Jack had discussed the reproductive functions of his people before we married. He was honest enough to have doubts that we might successfully mate and have offspring. As Jasoomian males are virtually identical anatomically with Barsoomian males, and the difference appears to be centered in the oviparous female, we entered our marriage with great hopes. Thanks to the first ancestor, our species were mutually compatible--which the fertilization of Carthoris and Tara's eggs proved. We have had three other fertilizations, but unfortunately none of the eggs ever quickened. Perhaps our miracle of life was over and only Carthoris and Tara...

That old pain was shoved aside. The black girl on the dirty pavement, naked except for an ugly, unsanitary blanket, was in more need than the admittedly fortunate Princess of Helium. There was a slaver's mark on her upper thigh. a delicate scar indicating a chain originating in Phundahl.

"Where's your master?"

"You mean the yellow bastard who knocked me up and marked me or the black son-of-a-bitch who wailed to his pagan gods when the demon wench began to swell? Everybody's had a turn at Junie Watts. Poor Junie. Poor, poor Junie!"

Her words were less coherent as I have set down here. She wept some, stayed stubbornly silent for a time, she also raged unhappily; I sharpened my voice because we were getting nowhere. "I will help you."

She talked to herself, a symptom of starvation and illness. "Junie, girl, you're seeing things" or "Watch that woman, Junie Watts, they come to take you away."

I helped the girl to her feet and threw that nasty blanket away. She covered her heavy breasts with crossed arms as I removed my white wrap and put it around her. Junie Watts smelled like an unkempt thoat barn. I almost gagged putting my arm around her.

"Calm down, child. Come with me." She was too weak to argue.

Rexa shuddered as I approached with the unsteady girl. "Dee," she forgot herself and called me by the name only Jack used, "what have you done?"

"Nothing, yet. Give me your garment and all the money you have."

"Don't be silly, your highness. Leave that thing. We'll miss our flight!" Rexa was frightened. She looked at Junie Watts as if the girl were the specter of death. I would have none of stupid superstition from Rexa Hultan. "This poor Jasoomian child needs nurturing. She needs a friend."

"Jasoomian? Well, have her put in the hold and take her to Kaol," Rexa said. "The physicians at Kulan Tith's palace would be eager to examine her."

"And that," I said, "is the very reason I will notsubject the girl to their scrutiny. To them she would be an interesting biological oddity rather than a living, breathing, emotionally-scarred young woman. Jasoomian women to do not lay eggs--they bear their children alive--and to my knowledge this is the first such birth on all of Barsoom!"

Rexa considered my words with deliberate calm and quietly agreed. Now that the shock was past and we were away from the telepathic bedlam of the outcasts, Rexa firmed her chin, quite unlike her usual self. "I shall take care of her. I will take her home with me and..."

"And what?" I asked. "Rexa, you are a sweet dear, but believe me, you have no concept of what this girl needs or what is going to happen."

"Do you?" she asked, showing a trace of irritation.

Rexa Hultan was correct and I owed her an apology yet again. "Forgive me, Rexa. That was rude and unnecessary. I just feel I am the one who must do this. Involving you, John Carter, or anyone of my acquaintance would only terrify this poor child. She has begun to trust me," I said and looked down into those brown eyes where Junie Watts sat on a road side bench.

"You said you would come rescue me from the palace, Rexa Hultan. You can do me that service now. This child needs my help. I want to give it. Help me help her."

Rexa was undecided. It was one thing, in her mind, to spirit the Princess of Helium away for a few days of travel and relaxation and something quite different to assisting me in disappearing for a time. The woman lowered her head, twisting her hands nervously.

"Your husband will not sit still, Dejah Thoris. Nor will he think kindly of me for allowing you to do this."

I touched Rexa's hand, for she spoke the truth. "Jack Carter's bark is worse than his bite when it comes to dealing with women. Tell him I said 'Behave yourself, Jack'. Can you do this for me, Rexa?"

She unwrapped the reflective garment and helped me put it on. She unbuckled the girdle at her waist and it was not a light pouch she passed over. "Where will you go?" Rexa Hultan asked.

"The less you know, the better it will be. Wait here with Junie Watts."

I went to a nearby shop and asked for stylus and paper. I also purchased travel bread, fruits, a portion of sliced roast thoat and a handful of hard candies as well as two canteens of mantilla milk. I wrote a message to my husband, returned the stylus to the shopkeeper and hurried back to Rexa, who stopped pacing as soon as she saw me.

I gave Rexa the note. It was open and I made sure she read it:

Dearest John:
Rexa brings this message to you personally so you will know I have not been kidnapped--but I am not where I am supposed to be. Do not send out the fleets nor scour the countryside, I do not need rescuing. I need time to myself.
If you love me, you will honor my request.
I will come home in two months time.
Love, Dee

I embraced the tall woman. "Thank you. If my husband gives you a hard time call upon yours--that is what they are good for while we take care of day-to-day living."

Rexa shook her head reluctantly. "I feel I'm making a mistake. What if that...that...girl is diseased? What if you catch it and die? I could never forgive myself."

"I have caught that disease before," I chuckled. "I survived and have two lovely children. I will get a message to you--and only you-- in a few days. I will not tell you where we are because Junie Watts does not need notoriety at this time, but I will let you know we are all right."

Rexa said nothing, again showing a maturity others had overlooked. We embraced again, then I turned and gathered Junie Watts and the food I had purchased. I took the girl along a direction which should take us near an overland transport company Rexa Hultan and I had passed earlier during the day.

Chapter 2 - Junie Watts: Living in Hell

The dark-haired woman wrapped me in that white cloth and left the other woman with me. Was the big blond there to keep me from escaping? I didn't know nor did I care; I had suffered so much it hardly mattered where I was or who was with me. I was so sick and weak and weary. I couldn't run anywhere, even if I had a place to run to. I sat on a stone bench beside the road and felt sorry for myself.

I didn't see the red woman return but I looked up when she called my name. "Junie Watts. I have food and drink." She gave me a little of both right then. "Not too much," she said. "You can have more later."

I shuffled along, going where she steered without caring what happened because of the ugliness that had already happened to me.

At some point the other woman disappeared and we reached the edge of the city. We stood outside an overland transport company. "Three thoats," the woman told the proprietor. While the man went to get our thoats, the beautiful woman turned to me.

"You may call me Dee."

"Yes, ma'am." Smart girls don't tell strangers too much.

When the thoats arrived, Dee loaded the supplies onto one and led me to another. She adjusted the saddle like she knew what she was doing and then placed a folded fur on it. She stared at the thoat like she was thinking hard and golly! the animal extended a foreleg and bent down like a trick elephant at a circus. Dee made me step up on the thoat's foreleg and then straddle the creature. I was uncomfortable and scared. My stomach stuck out and overbalanced me so much I thought I would fall.

Dee spoke rapidly to the man, who looked at me like I had two heads. She repeated her request, more forcefully, and the man fetched a harness similar to the kind men used to carry swords and knives and strange pistols. It was not stiff leather; it felt like suede, and Dee directed me by motion and hand on how to put the harness on. Once it was secured the red woman attached a leather strip to a ring at my waist. She fastened the thong's other end to a tie-ring embedded in the saddle. A second thong was attached to my other side and she had me secured to the saddle so I couldn't fall.

"Are you ready, Junie Watts?" Dee asked. I nodded.The lady made the other thoat bow. She stepped up and mounted its back as gracefully as a debutante entering a limousine.

"Don't I need reins or a rope or something to guide this thing?" I asked.

"Think at the thoat. Tell it to follow mine."

"How?" I asked.

Dee made her animal step slowly and the pack animal followed. I tried as hard as I could but nothing happened. The harder I tried, the more erratic the thoat acted. It began squirming uneasily; that scared me and I think it only made things worse.

Dee brought her thoat near mine. "That's all right, Junie Watts. We'll try again later. I will take over for now."

Almost immediately, my thoat settled down and walked beside Dee's. I had seen people ride these ill-tempered beasts, but this was the first time I had seen anyone control three at once and I said as much!

The small woman turned and smiled. "I have had the advantage of studying with my daughter-in-law. She is very gifted at controlling the lower animals. Over the years I have developed my own abilities."

That was all of our first conversation. Dee seemed to sense that I really wasn't ready to talk. I was too concerned watching that huge head full of teeth in front of me. I had seen wild desert thoats fighting and knew they were vicious tempered. I could just see this one turning around to take a bite out of me. After a few hours, however, I realized that wasn't going to happen and some of the fear left me.

As I relaxed little by little, I let myself look around a bit. We had entered hills-- mostly covered with odd-looking trees and brush. It was thick as a jungle compared to the open lands and deserts I'd seen far to the north. Every once in a while we crossed a small stream which was usually arched over by tall trees and heavy foliage. It was cooler there compared to the hot sun which seemed always over head.

At one stream Dee stopped the animals and dismounted. She motioned for me to do the same. My fingers and hands worked okay, but when I tried to step down, my legs and feet acted funny.

"Too long in the saddle and not enough food. We'll rest here for a few hours and eat something. We might even take a bath."

Dee pushed the wrap back from my head and touched my hair and dirty scalp. I lowered my eyes, ashamed. "See that small pool over there? You go strip and soak while I start dinner. I'll come help you in a minute."

I never had a woman other than my grandmother wash my hair. I certainly never had no lady like Dee scrub me where I couldn't reach or towel me dry and then feed me something like a stew all thick and good tasting.

"Feel up to riding a little further?" Dee asked after washing and putting everything away. "The man at the transport company said we should be able to make the next town before full dark. There's an inn there."

We rode until twilight, which isn't much here, night coming swift as a gunshot. Dee slowed the animals in the road and looked ahead for a long minute. "It could be over the next hill, or it could be haads, miles, away. We'll camp on that knoll over there beside that gloresta bush."

Dee made a tent from what looked like a napkin and in the morning she folded it back to napkin size. The material was extremely light and thin, but so strong that you couldn't tear it. It kept us out the cold night wind as we snuggled into our furs.

At noon of the third day we stopped to eat at a beautiful little canyon just off the main road. After we ate, I lay down behind one of the thoats to rest. I must have dozed because I was awakened by a commotion nearby.

A large red man had wrestled Dee to the ground. It didn't take much to figure out he meant to do--I had been there myself.

Dee fought like a tiger. She twisted and turned and scratched. The man kept losing his grip because she was no lady and knew how to hurt a man. She had been good to me and I couldn't stand by and do nothing. I jumped to my feet, looking for something to hit him with. The thoat squealed when I moved so suddenly and the man looked up, surprised. Then he grinned at me, turning his attention back on the lady. But before I could do anything at all, he grunted hard and went stiff, then funny limp.

Dee cursed softly as she wiggled out from under. I ran to help her, confused. I pulled hard on the man and he just rolled over, flopping his arms and I saw it. Dee reached out and pulled a slim knife from the man's twitching body.

"Thank you, Junie Watts. You distracted him at the right time."

"Oh, Lord!" I gasped, covering my mouth. My stomach churned at the sight of all that blood on Dee and the knife and oozing from that man's chest. I threw up everything that I had eaten that day. Pregnancy sure is a pain.

Dee helped me to sit and used some of our water to wash my face. "Put this over your eyes," she said, pressing the damp cloth across my brow. "You'll feel better."

I did, and it did, but I also knew she made me do it so I couldn't see her drag that man's body into the brush. I was weak and scared.

"We can't stay here," Dee started packing. "He might have friends. "I'll get that, Junie Watts. You just get mounted and hold on tight."

A few minutes later the red woman had all three thoats at a bone-jarring gallop. Oh, she seemed like some heroine of mythology, riding straight-backed astride her monstrous mount. Her head held high, her face composed, you wouldn't believe just a short time earlier she'd snarled and bit and fought and killed a man.

We stayed off the main road, but riding within sight of it for a few miles, then Dee turned toward a stand of forest stretching across the hills like a rumpled blanket. We were soon under the canopy and after entering a hundred feet or so, Dee slowed the thoats to a walk.

"He must have followed us from the last town. He wanted this," she slapped the pocket pouch on her harness, which jingled with the sound of coins, "and decided he wanted a little more. His mistake--and mine. I apparently failed to watch our back trail and in nearly cost us dear. I will not make that mistake again."

She talked to me more than I talked to her. I wanted to tell her she was the best person I had met since I woke up on Barsoom, as she called it. I wanted to, but old habits die hard. Revealing yourself, giving others something they can use against you is for the stupid. Dee seemed nice enough, but was she really my friend? I had seen her kill a man and then take off as if nothing had happened. I was as much in fear as awe of her.

That evening, we ate a small meal and retired to the tent. I lay thinking about my life on Barsoom and about the woman who had practically adopted me.

"Dee," I ventured, "why are all men such beasts?"

"Not all of them are. It's just that the bad ones are the only ones you hear about," she answered. "There are many good men. They just don't stand out like the bad."

I hesitated. "Most of the men I've known were fiends. They care for no one but themselves and what they can get."

Dee sat for a few minutes, then she said, "I'll listen if you want to talk."

"As if talking ever did any good!" was my sarcastic reply. I rolled over and my side and pretended to sleep.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to talk about the past few months.

I wouldn't tell her about the deaths of the only people who had seemed to care about the black people on earth. She wouldn't understand because slavery wasn't limited to blacks on Barsoom. I had seen red, yellow and black men and women enslaved. Why, I had even seen a giant four-armed green man wearing a collar!

"Dee?"

The red woman sat at the open tent flap looking out. She was wrapped in a fur against the temperature which was dropping rapidly. "Aren't you sleepy, child?" she asked.

"You wanted to know about me," I began.

Dee turned to face me. "Only if you want, Junie."

"Ok," I said. "You already know that I come from Earth. I don't know how I got here or why, but I awoke on a plain with short pink grass. I had no clothes or anything--no water, no food, nothing. I didn't know where I was, or even if I was alive. It didn't feel like Heaven, but I wasn't sure if it was Hell.

"That first night I took shelter between two large boulders to keep from freezing. I saw two moons; one traveled so much faster than the other that it rose and set twice before I could sleep.

"After three days without food or water an ugly yellow man with a beard nearly to his waist found me. He wore a harness, but nothing else. He had a short knife and a large pistol-like object. He rode a thoat that also carried a large pack.

"He yammered at me. I didn't understand what he was saying but I knew that look. He looked at me like I was something he could take and own.

"He scared me with that look and jabbering and I tried to run away but he rode me down and knocked me over with his animal. He dismounted as I staggered to my feet. He grabbed me and touched me ugly and I tried to get his knife. Oh," I cringed with memory and covered my head, "he beat me so bad I passed out."

I couldn't talk any more. Dee reached out and took my hand reassuringly. It was her way of reminding me that I wasn't out on that desert and that I wasn't alone anymore. For the first time I almost let myself believe a person not of my race might be a friend. I sniffled and wiped my eyes then continued:

"When I awoke, I found my feet and hands in chains and a collar fastened around my neck.

"As soon as he saw that I was awake, the bastard crawled on top of me. I tried to fight but there wasn't a thing I could do and he was rough and violent and then he was done. He laughed at me all curled up and crying.

"That night the yellow man took a long piece of steel from his pack and heated it in the fire. He kept checking the end of it until it was red hot. Then, without warning, the bastard branded me!"

I covered that mark on my thigh, still ashamed to bear it. It wasn't horrible looking, it was almost attractive, but it wasn't how it looked that made it so ugly, it was what it stood for that made it completely hideous.

"The pain was so great I fainted. The next morning he used me then kicked me to rebuild the fire to cook what he set out. I did not understand so he said a word and hit me and said it again and hit me and said it until I said it and did it and every day thereafter that's how he taught me enough language to do what he wanted.

"It wasn't much because he was not an imaginative or industrious man. Besides topping me almost daily, he made potions from plants he had me grind with mortar and pestle, foul-smelling medicines he sold to occasional travelers or in small, dusty villages we sometimes entered.

"He was never comfortable in a town. Always nervous like a thief, which I think he also was. But in the towns he had another use for me, one that lined his pockets better than the income from his obnoxious and ineffective potions. He sometimes sold use of my body to whoever paid his price.

"For nearly one hundred days we traveled south with me walking and carrying a pack while he rode the thoat. I did not know the word for slave, but I had rapidly learned what slavery was like.

"I never heard his name in all my time with him, or if I did, I didn't recognize it as such.

"One day, as we traveled through an unpopulated area, I heard a whirring noise overhead. Above me was a strange airplane or something like it. Its wings were close to the side and shaped to catch the most air possible. The plane, for that's what I considered it, was only large enough for 1 or 2 people. It hung directly over us, hovering like a helicopter.

"A man's face looked over the low rail. His face was black, even blacker than my own.

"The plane moved to the side and began to descend, coming to rest less than ten feet from us. A tall, black man stepped from the plane. I saw that he wore a harness from which hung two swords and various other things that could have be weapons. Like my yellow master, he was naked as Adam.

"I was surprised when the man bowed deeply to me! He began to speak but I understood one word in ten. The yellow man stepped between and said something disparaging by the tone of his voice. The black man drew himself erect, a formidable sight, and made a sneering reply. Soon he and the yellow man were in an argument. The words grew more heated until the yellow man grabbed me by the hair and pulled me forward. He lifted and spread my leg, shaming me terribly, and showed the black man the mark burned into my leg.

"The black man scowled for a moment then made an inquiry. The yellow man shook his head. The stranger asked again, only this time he produced a pouch that jingled loudly when he shook it. The yellow man stroked his beard thoughtfully. He made a counter-offer and the black man scowled, but agreed. He tossed the pouch and the pistol-like weapon to the yellow man. My master smiled at the deal made and stripped the pack from my shoulders. Before I knew what he was about, the man had shoved me to the ground before the black. I had been sold!

"The black man lifted me up. He carried me to the side of his plane and placed me on the floor where. I was strapped down and warned to silence when I began weeping. He said words which I did not understand, other than 'Wait...silence...'

"He walked toward the yellow man, who was counting coins from one hand to the other. My old master grinned as the black man approached. The yellow man spoke a few words pleasantly then suddenly shrieked when the black man's short sword flashed in the air. The scream stopped instantly and the black man took the pouch and the gun before the yellow man slumped to the ground. It was then his head rolled off!"

I still remembered that horrible sight. I closed my eyes, but nothing can ever make it go away. I wept then, sobbing out of control. Dee gently pushed me down into the sleeping furs and covered me. She stroked my forehead until I went to sleep.

In the morning I was alone in the tent. I heard sounds like none I'd ever heard before, pleasant, restful sounds. I stuck my head outside the flap and saw Dee sitting on a fallen tree trunk carving what looked like a lizard. I heard the tiny snaps and pops of a fire and all around us hums and buzzes like insects, only larger and more harmonious. Toward the sunrise I saw something fly into the air. It looked like a bird, or what passed as birds here.

The red woman smiled at me. "Hungry?"

"Yes ma'am!" I said with a silly grin.

"See that tree over there? That's a sompas. That big round fruit is a somp and it's good eating. Want to pick a few?"

I tried my legs, which were still sore from riding, but much stronger with rest and food. I picked the somp, four of them, and returned to the fire. Dee continued skinning the lizard.

"About last night," I said. "I'm sorry I went to pieces like that."

"Dear girl, there is nothing to be apologetic about. I am afraid you have not seen our world at its best."

"That is true," I said, "because after Holkat killed that man...that was the black man's name, Holkat...he had his plane off the ground and we started to move in a south-easterly direction.

"I knew so few words then, but I managed to ask if he was going to kill me.

"'No.' he said.

"I asked if he was going to use me." For some reason it was not as terrifying to make that statement to Dee at dawn. "He only said, 'I am Holkat.'

"I had been bought so I assumed I was Holkat's slave. I believed he would use me like the yellow man had but nothing happened during the flight.

"Finally we landed in a ruined village. There Holkat led me into the only building with a complete roof where he removed my chains. 'Here," he said.

I helped him unload some cases from the machine before the sun went down. He produced an odd little lamp that burned a kind of oil and produced an intensely white light. He hung a blanket over the open doorway and banked a small fire near the open window. As night fell so did the temperature but the little fire helped and I stood as close as I dared without getting in Holkat's way. I had learned to avoid my yellow master and I felt it wise to watch carefully to anticipate what the black man would want so he wouldn't beat me for being stupid or slow.

"'Sit,' he told me. I did, and he fed me some travel rations which had little or no taste, but left me full and satisfied for the first time in months. Later he tossed me a blanket and soon I was as comfortable as if I were by my Granny's wood stove in Joplin.

In the days that followed Holkat attempted to teach me his language. I never had a head for language and had very little luck, but he treated me decently enough.

"Each morning I loaded the flier while Holkat practiced his weapons. He always practiced and I watched from the corner of my eye. He was grace and strength and beauty and I knew him to be deadly. He fascinated me. He was so unlike any man I had ever seen, black, white or yellow. He treated me well and fed me as much as he ate...or it seemed that way.

"Holkat was a merchant like the yellow man, but he was a merchant with a purpose and dealt honestly. He sold weapons. Swords, knives, guns of all kinds. He had a compartment on his flier that held his goods.

"For ten days Holkat and I traveled, stopping wherever he saw wagons or towns or small cities. He had me help set up his booth and after the first few times, I learned how to do it alone while he called in his customers with grand gestures and strong voice.

"Oh, Dee, he was handsome and strong and honest. He dealt fairly with his buyers who never went away dissatisfied. In the evenings, after he counted his income, or hunted if we had not found customers, he talked to me and I learned words from him, more words that helped me make some sense, though far from total understanding, of my new world.

"Then one night he came to my furs and lay beside me, his hand possessive. I wept, disappointed and frightened because I had been stupid and thought he might respect me. 'You belong to Holkat,' he said. 'Slave,' he said, stroking my little brand.

"He had his way with me, but he was gentle and kind and it was not unpleasant. In fact, it was a duty far from arduous and, Lord forgive me, I came to desire Holkat greatly.'

Dee interrupted by handing me a plate of broiled lizard. She showed me how to peel a somp and laughed as the juices squirted unexpectedly. It was sweet to the taste. After I had eaten a good portion the red woman asked, "What happened with Holkat?"

I shrugged. "Like most men I know back on Earth, he couldn't face the responsibility of a pregnant woman. I mean, after we'd been together a few months I was getting round with the baby."

"Holkat's?"

I shook my head. "Earlier than that, I think. I must have been pregnant before Holkat took me from the Okarian." Dee had told me what yellow men were called. "There were so many men before Holkat."

"It sounded like Holkat had come to value you."

"He had," I sighed. "But he did not understand this." I placed both hands on either side of my swollen abdomen.

"I will be honest with you, child. You will find none on this planet who will understand. You see, you are unique on Barsoom. To my knowledge no Jasoomian female has ever made the voyage from your planet to ours."

Dee went on to explain reproduction on Mars and many things became clear. Martian women lay eggs like a chicken, only larger, about half the size of my fist, and they can lay as many as thirteen at a time! The eggs are kept in incubators and five years later a half sized physically mature almost adult person is hatched.

"I must look like a monster to you," I said to Dee.

"Hardly! Now that you have had some food and rest and clean air and frequent baths, you look wonderful."

"I wish I could believe you, Dee."

We packed camp and before long we were again mounted and on the move. This time, however, we stayed in the forest traveling westward according to the slanting beams of sunlight piercing the canopy. The nailless footpads of the thoats made no sound as we moved through the forest which was relatively free of underbrush the deeper we entered.

"Tell me how you came to be in Jhuma, Junie Watts."

I lowered my head, for it was not a pleasant memory. "Holkat asked me why Issus wanted to punish him. I finally understood Issus was a god of some kind and that he blamed my condition on something he had done. I told him it was natural for a woman from my planet to get pregnant, but for all his intelligence and strength and grace, he was incredibly stupid on this subject.

"'You are cursed!' he screamed at me our last night. He screamed and ranted and threatened to cut me open to let the poison out. I begged him to spare me . 'Unholy female! Abomination!' and other things I did not understand and cannot recall now, but I remember his voice, verging on terror and insanity. How stupid and so how like a man, I thought to myself.

"He paced and talked all night. I pleaded for his understanding but as the hour grew late, as his desperation increased, I tried to reach him but he shook me off. He threw a blanket at me and I thought he was going to smother me with it, but he turned his back and went to the flier.

"'You will sleep on the ground,' he told me.

"I thought Holkat would see things differently in the morning, but when dawn arrived, I found myself abandoned in the dry hills north of Jhuma--though I did not know where I was at the time.

"Holkat left me nothing but that blanket...the one you found me wearing. I wandered for days without food or water and entered Jhuma by accident. I begged for food or money in order to live. The Barsoomians are not very generous, especially to those they think deformed. I nearly starved. I finally reached a point where I felt that I must die.

"I sought poisons among the other beggars only to be laughed at. Nobody could afford poison; why not jump off a building or run a knife in yourself?

"I had no knife, but I did find a piece of large, sturdy wire which would do the same thing, but as I stood with that lethal bit of metal in hand, ready to plunge it into by heart, the child moved in my stomach. It moved, Dee! Oh, you cannot know how wonderful that is...to know that a life is growing inside you. The movement, my baby, did something Holkat's kindness and generosity and purchase from the Okarian had not done: it gave me a purpose, a reason to live.

"When my crying was over, I tightened my ragged blanket and headed for the corner where I had seen some of the passengers of the great ships drift. I expected nothing."

Dee looked at me with sad eyes. "Life on Barsoom is harsh, Junie Watts. Our world is dying and death is an integral part of our culture. Yes, you are correct to say I do not know what it is like to have a life grow inside me, but I do know what it is like to deposit my egg in an incubator, to watch over it, to nurture it for five years, and then to be there to instruct and love my offspring. Motherhood may have differences in mechanics between our two species, but on the whole I do not believe we are so different after all."

The baby kicked me again. I must have made some outward sign, because Dee asked if I were feeling well. I explained what had happened. "Would you like to feel it?"

I took her slim hand, the hand which had stabbed a man to death, and placed it on my distended belly. Junior obliged and was very vigorous.

"Oh!" Dee cried happily.

Two days later we emerged from the forest at the edge of a moss-covered depression so deep that afternoon shadows filled it like water. Instead of riding into it, down to where water might lay, the red woman turned our thoats northwest and we followed the rim of the vast basin.

"There should be a village along here," she told me.

At nightfall we came into a tiny settlement comprised of six buildings made of wood. The people were reluctant at first, until they realized we were only two unescorted women. I kept my white wrap draped around me while Dee openly carried her knife, the short sword and the pistol she had taken from the body of the man who had attempted to rape her. She wore the weapons with confidence, but the people of the settlement were not interested in doing us harm.

We were told a larger town, a town with a physician, lay ninety haads west. At dawn we rode hard into and across the depression, the thoats relishing the hard gallop. These creatures, I had learned, where champions of travel, accomplishing as much as a hundred miles a day! Fortunately we did not have that far to travel.

The sun was perhaps an hour from sunset when we came upon our first sign of humans all day. A farmer worked his fields with a huge mastodon-like animal Dee called a zithidar.

"Sir," Dee let the thoats stand easy, "we are told a town is near."

The farmer nodded, pointed over his shoulder. "Six haads beyond the hill. There is a stream from a spring. Cross it at the red rocks and then right for two haads."

"Thank you," Dee answered. "Can you tell me if there is a doctor or physician there?"

"That would be Milieos," the man replied. "He won't treat strangers."

Dee smiled. Negatives were common traits among the rural communities. They usually had so little there was nothing to spare for strangers.

"Thank you for the directions. May your fields prosper." Dee put the thoats into motion. After we were beyond earshot she said, "Well, Junie Watts, let us see if the doctor is more amenable."

Chapter 3 - Milieos: Houseguests

The day had been long. I had gladly sent my most recent patient home at the noon hour, a brawny youth who had stepped on a discharged calot tree spine. A moment's work with knife, grips, and antiseptic put the fellow right, though he'd be running no errands for the local Dator for a few weeks.

Nightfall was near and I dreaded the darkness. I dreaded the hours between sundown and sunup, for I would toss inconsolably in my sleeping furs as Cluros and Thuria chased each other through the skies. Each night I relived the horror, calling fervently to Issus to undo the past, to take me. To take my miserable life instead of my family's. But Issus never hears.

At night the memories come. There is no stopping them. Even the anesthetic qualities of strong wine do little to dull the pain.

Thulium was, and still is, a peaceful town nestled in a deep fold of Barsoom's rocky soil. Here runs a rare stream running northward to the distant Rift Valley where Kamtol lies. Our stream has no name, but the waters sustain a riot of life. Food we have in abundance, there are dense forests extending east and west for two karads. Along the valley floor black soil, sediment eroded from the ancient mountains southwest of Thulium, supports a lush grass upon which large herds of thoats and zithidar graze.

My sire was the first of Kamtol's Dators to take land beyond the Rift. He founded Thulium with a handful of retainers in the wake of the uneasy peace imposed by John Carter. I have two brothers and a sister, each with interests different than mine.

I had gone abroad to become a physician because my brother Senca rightfully preceded me as next to rule upon father's death. My studies took me to Toonol, then later to Helium, and when I was satisfied I could learn no more, I returned to Thulium with my new skills. But I did not come alone. I had taken a wife, a woman of the red race who filled my heart with great happiness.

I met Alia at the training hospital at Hastor. I was completing my fourth year of study at the time and had been assigned trauma care for the last two months. I was on night duty when this tiny woman, fighting panic, rushed into the hospital carrying a new-hatched infant.

"The doctor," she demanded. "My child cannot breathe."

My metal proclaimed my occupation. "I can help, if you let me."

Torn by anguish which I did not understand, she glanced down at the boy. His color was pale, his breathing labored. "Save him!" she cried, placing her child in my arms.

A quick examination revealed a fragment of egg shell lodged in the boy's throat. Moments later he rested easy in his mother's arms. I remember Alia's words as if they were yesterday: "It is ironic to know that a man of the race that killed my husband would be the one to save my son's life."

I followed up on the boy's condition, though it was hardly necessary for such a routine care-giving. But follow up I did, and one thing led to another. Alia and I found comfort and love, and her son became my son, and I brought them home to Thulium. I had hoped my father would accept Alia as his daughter, and I am sure he would have, but he was not at Thulium. Senca, my eldest brother, ruled as Dator in father's absence.

Senca was loud and arrogant, but he was fair-minded toward those under his care. He continued father's practice of accepting all who would settle in Thulium would they but be an asset to the community, which meant we had red men living with black and even white Therns were welcome. Senca, however, privately spoke to me expressing concern over my mixed marriage, though he was ever the gentleman in Alia's presence.

Senca had done well managing Thulium. I was given a house at the edge of town to facilitate general access to my professional skills. Alia loved the place because it was hers and because it was near my sister's.

Kulua, my sister--and eldest of siblings--had followed her heart to become an artist. She had as yet taken no man, having humorously expressed little desire to have her life complicated by "love or men." I had no concerns for Kulua, for she was sensible and well-loved not only by her patrons, but by the people of Thulium.

Folkar, my youngest brother, worked as a machinist, in part because he was clever with his hands and brain, but also because he was born with a malformed leg. I had offered to correct his deformity after I became a physician. Folkar had laughingly refused. "How would a straight leg improve the work of my hands? No, Milieos, I am content." My brother was content, as was I with Alia, the boy, and our lives in Thulium.

I was content until the band of Warhoons attacked our valley.

There were twenty fierce green men in the raiding party. I remember the earthquake-like rumble of racing thoats as they plummeted down the narrow streets of our village. Alia and the boy were outside the house. I tried to get to them as sounds of fighting came near. Into the street I ran, calling Alia's name.

"Milieos!" she cried as a giant shadow fell upon us. I looked over my shoulder to see the steel-tipped head of a forty-foot Warhoon spear aimed at me.

By chance the weapon struck obliquely across my temple then the thoat's shoulder sent me flying into a wall. I lay stunned with broken ribs, unable to do more than watch, in horror, as the thoat's huge pads trampled my wife and child. The monster steed continued on, leaving ragged, bloody lumps in the street.

Painfully, I pulled myself side the house. Outside the battle grew more intense as the townsfolk organized themselves. I retrieved the radium pistol my father had given me as a youth. I had never fired it at a living thing, but when I stepped out of the house, I drew aim upon the first Warhoon I saw and pressed the firing stud. Whether the green man I shot was the one who killed my family, or not, I do not know, but I felt grim satisfaction when his upper torso exploded with the shell's detonation.

Up the street the soft sound of rifle fire sent a volley into the massed Warhoons. Two were wounded, one seriously. Senca's strong voice directed his guard to fire again, and another green man was hit. I fired into the mob and a thoat squealed with pain. At that point, the Warhoons gathered the plunder they had collected and raced south. I shot the arm off another before they rode out of sight.

I ran to Alia. I almost fainted for there was nothing recognizable--her skull was crushed, her body broken, her internal organs trampled into the dust. Not even fabled Ras Thavas could save my wife, or my son. My life was suddenly empty of all purpose.

It was then I learned to hate. I hated the barbarians who had murdered my family so hideously. For weeks afterwards the color green was sufficient to build a rage within my soul. It was then that I struggled against hating Senca, for he had not approved of Alia and I could not help thinking he had done nothing until "the problem" had been taken care of by the Warhoons. Oh, I did not wish to hate my brother!

Kulua stayed with me during my convalescence. I allowed that for three weeks then gently threw her out. I closed the door to my house and locked it for two days and when I was done weeping, I commenced my practice once again.

Our people were strong and healthy so I had free time on my hands. Alia and the boy had occupied that free time, but they were gone. Most of the time I slept, occasionally treating an injury or illness. I slept because I couldn't sleep. I was haunted at night by crimson nightmares filled with fanged Warhoons trampling those who were most dear to me. I slept because I drank to oblivion, seeking the solace of forgetfulness. I no longer cared what vintage was poured into my despair, I cared only for its effects, not its bouquet.

I stared at the bottle in hand. It shook.

"What would Alia think?" I asked the question I asked each night, the one question guaranteed to make me open the bottle. I did not wish to know what Alia would think!

I took a long pull from the bottle then crossed my arms on the table and let my head fall. "Coward," I muttered. "Weakling."

The sun was almost gone when I heard the scrape of a boot upon my walk. I took another drink, wishing they would go away. There was a knock.

I growled harshly. "It better be an emergency! Come in!"

The sun was behind the forest-clad hills, the after-glow silhouetting two figures in the open door.

"You are Milieos, the doctor of Thulium?" came a well-bred voice. The accent was equatorial.

"I am. Who are you?"

"A light, sir. May we have a light for conversation?"

I drank before answering. "Unhood the lamp beside you."

The shorter person entered and fumbled at the wall momentarily, then unhooded the radium bulb. As if she knew I'd bark otherwise, she left it half- covered. The woman was of the red race, medium height and black hair. She was beautiful, though her face was dirty and her clothes more so.

"My name is Dee," the red woman said. "We need the services of a doctor."

I ignored the frown she had for the bottle in my hand. "What city?" I asked the black girl with her.

The woman called Dee answered. "She does not speak well. She--"

"Let her speak for herself, woman!" Turning to the black girl I asked the question again and added, "What ails you?"

"Nothing that nine months won't cure," came the sullen answer.

I took a longer pull from the bottle, then set it down with a sharp bang. Both women jumped, but with different reactions. The red woman had her hand on a knife, the black girl seemed to shrink upon herself. "In," I scowled. "Close the door. You, Dee, you will have no cause to use that."

Her eyes narrowed for an instant, then she relaxed. Going to the black girl, Dee supported her. "Can she sit down? She's very fatigued."

"Sit."

As she did, the black girl's cloak-like garment opened and I saw something that penetrated the wine-fog. She appeared to be to be hideously deformed. Since such addled hatchlings were usually given to the bosom of the Iss, my gaze became more clinical. Her deformity was in her stomach area, and it was not just overeating that had caused it. Her body was normally frail, but this malady had caused her a lot of bloating. Her stomach was quite distended.

I was at a loss to explain the condition without further study. Upon further reflection, and in the light of the radium bulb, I decided the woman's features were unlike the First Born, though her skin was similar in hue. Her nose had arched, flaring nostrils, and her lips were wider and softer. It was her eyes that held me. They seemed dull at times, then would flash like olive lightening.

The black woman said in a barbarous accent, "This looks more like the Free Clinic. What a dump."

Her direct manner intrigued me. Her plain clothes bespoke a low upbringing, in stark contrast to the ill-fitting middle-class clothes of her companion. Dee tried to hide her true station with a rough cloak, I could tell by her stance that she was every inch a princess. What an odd pair these two made.

"I am Milieos," I confirmed. "How may I be of service?" The last line I delivered with no small amount of sarcasm. The red woman picked it up immediately.

"First by having an open mind," Dee began, a warm smile clashing with her aristocratic manner. "This woman is in great need of professional medical attention. She has been through great travail and has journeyed not only over this world, but has been cast forth from Jasoom."

Already Intrigued by the black woman's malady, I was unsurprised by the disclosure of her interplanetary origin. "Jasoom? Only John Carter and Vad Varo have so traveled."

"To acknowledge such beyond this room would eclipse the plight of this young woman, who is with child in the Jasoomian manner."

"Shell of my first ancestor!" I swore, becoming truly interested at last. "A Jasoomian child!"

"Indeed. That is why she needs attention. In the manner of Jasoomians, she carries this child within her belly for nine of their months then delivers it alive. Already, much time has passed, and her life has been hard."

The black woman spoke again, showing a quiet defiance. "I be dragged around this dusty hell long enough. If you're a doctor then I need you to look and see if my baby's ok. Do you have an x-ray?"

"That is not one of the nine rays of Barsoom." I replied. "Perhaps you are mistaken and your condition is merely the consequence of a Jasoomian female on Barsoom."

"Dee," the black girl said, "he don't understand."

The red woman put her hand on the girl's shoulder, but she spoke to me. "Junie Watts has explained x-rays come from a device that uses the emissions of radium to produce a picture of her baby. I told her we do not have x-ray machines, but we do have sound-imaging."

I drank some wine, trying to keep from laughing. "Radium radiation? We know how harmful these emissions are. As for sound-images, I'm afraid my equipment is rather limited."

Intriguing or not, I was not happy with the visitation--I had not yet reached the desired level of numbness. I was also irritated by the red woman who appeared to understand modern techniques and state of the art equipment. "I have nothing like the major hospitals. Perhaps it would be best if you go find one and leave me alone."

The Jasoomian looked up at the red woman. "Let us go, Dee. I don't like him."

As if I weren't sitting there at my own table the red woman replied, "I do not like him either, but we have come far today and you are worn out. And you, sir, are drunk!"

"Not yet," I chuckled without mirth. "Sleep in the waiting room for all I care. Good night."

My head throbbed when I woke. It was a familiar pain, a pain that kept my mind diverted from the horrible memory which haunted my life. I stumbled from my sleeping chamber, legs unsteady, vision clouded, and entered into the main room. I abruptly stopped, confused.

"Who are you?" I asked the red woman standing at my stove.

"My name is Dee," she said. "We met last night. This is my friend, Junie Watts."

I staggered to the cistern and dipped a cloth into the cool water. I washed my face. "I remember. That is my food you are cooking."

"I will pay. You look as if you could use some. Sit."

Imperious wench! Though I was angered I sat at the table. Junie Watts, at Dee's direction, set a plate and drink before me. My tortured stomach, too long without real food, tightened with anticipation. I could do nothing until I had eaten.

Dee fed the black girl and herself. She made Junie Watts sit at the table. The red woman ate steadily with proper decorum, stopping occasionally to prod Junie Watts to eat breakfast. Halfway through her meal, Dee spoke pleasantly:

"Junie Watts has a sad past. After her arrival, she was enslaved and mistreated. It is by luck that her hatchling has survived thus far."

"You appear to know a great deal about Jasoomian reproduction."

For an instant the woman's composure was penetrated. By only so little as a slight start did I know she was discomforted; yet, she continued as if nothing had happened. "Junie Watts is knowledgeable about her own body. We have talked during our travels. She does not speak our language well so that is why I speak for her."

The woman was a mystery--obviously well-educated and used to having her own way, she had anticipated my questions and answered them in a fashion that prevented me from pursuing them without acting rudely.

"What is it you want of me. I know nothing of Jasoomian births."

"You are a physician. You have a duty and obligation to administer..."

"I do? Where is that written, my lady?"

The woman's hand stopped between mouth and plate. Dee lowered her eyes apologetically. "I beg pardon, Milieos. I have been most rude and inconsiderate of your hospitality and position."

Dee abruptly rose. She produced several gold tampi from a belt pouch and the oval coins rang slightly as she placed them on the table. Turning to Junie Watts Dee placed a hand under the girl's arm. "We must go."

"Yes, Dee," the black girl sighed.

Gathering the folds of her drape in one hand, Junie Watts came to her feet. Her thin legs seemed too frail to support the distended belly. Her limbs shook, though whether that was weakness from disease or exhaustion I could not say. Junie Watts looked at me strangely, as if filled with disappointment, then allowed the red woman to lead her away from the table.

Suddenly, the black woman shuddered and clutched her stomach. She cried out in some odd tongue as Dee put an arm around her.

Perhaps it was the food which cleared my thinking, perhaps it was an attack of belated conscience. "Take her in there," I pointed to the next room. When Dee asked a question with her eyes I hardened my voice. "I cannot examine her here."

Junie Watts required help to sit on the table. Her skin was dry and rough, her temperature warmer than normal. Then my brain asked: Warmer than normal--for which species?

I could not again help but notice the subtle differences between a black woman of Jasoom and the First Born--not only in features, but the skin tone was not pure black; it contained hints of brown.

"The pain--it is passed now?" I asked.

"A contraction. It means that my body's getting ready. Don't you all women have contractions?"

"Only if she is eggbound. If left uncorrected, the female may die. Is this 'contraction' normal, Junie Watts?"

"What kind of doctor are you? Where's all your fancy equipment? Even the jivest clinic in Selma has got some equipment."

"As I said, my resources are limited. Lie back."

"All I do is 'lie back'," Junie frowned.

Dee watched my examination closely. She held the girl's hand and I saw the protective gleam in the red woman's eyes. For some reason this woman--who was not what she seemed--had taken an interest in the black Jasoomian.

I placed my hands on Junie Watts' belly. Gentle pressure against tight skin revealed a series of unusual protrusions within the abdominal cavity. One protrusion moved spontaneously as I touched it. My eyes widened. "What was that? Are you subject to involuntary spasms?"

"That's the baby kicking," Junie said. "It don't like where it's at."

"I see. The embryo has changed position. Yes, that is consistent with shell growth behavior."

Palpitation of the breasts indicated some swelling and hardening. "Tender?" I asked when the girl made a slight face. "Lactation has begun. Again, similar to Barsoomian females."

The pelvic examination, however, revealed substantial differences between species. The Jasoomian's urinary tract shared locations with the reproductive organ rather than being a subsystem of the alimentary tract. A brief question to Junie Watts confirmed the male of the species was constructed similarly.

"I assume there are less obvious internal differences, but, Junie Watts, other than showing the obvious stresses of your travail, plus some malnutrition, you seem in good health. How close to laying are you?"

"I don't lay, man," she said, her smile a perfect semicircle of gleaming teeth. "This baby is going to come out of me after the bag of water its been growing in breaks. It will be attached to me by an umbilical cord."

"You must tell me all," I said, genuinely interested.

"That may take a great deal of time," said Dee.

"Do we have time?" I asked, helping Junie Watts up, gesturing she could dress.

"Perhaps a month. Until that time, I must arrange some place to live."

I shrugged. "We have no traveler's inn. Thulium is not a place many seek out. We are on the way to nowhere."

"Then you shall provide a place for us."

"You demand much," I countered quickly. "You are not the wife of a Dator to make such demands and I am not a court lackey."

"Why!" Dee exploded, her red coloring turning deep. "You cannot refuse me, for I am --" She hesitated and I knew I had her.

"I am willing to pay well," Dee snapped. "I do not ask for myself, Milieos of Thulium, but for this poor girl."

I hesitated because I had been alone for so long. I was not ready to have others interfere with my grief and self-destruction. I had answered to no one but myself and the responsibility having these women in my house was discomforting. I turned away from Dee so she could not see my shadow pain: I missed Alia and the boy.

The red woman assumed I was not satisfied with the promise of payment. "I will cook meals and maintain the residence, Milieos. Junie Watts needs rest and care. Her child will need care in the beginning."

"How do you know this?" I asked.

"I--junie Watts and I have talked. I have heard scholars speculate. I know my own instincts."

I did not call her a liar, but I sensed a different truth besides the ones she spoke. Oh, Issus, her accent was so like Alia's!

"There are two rooms on the second floor," I said. "You may take one. Junie Watts will sleep down here."

"We will stay together," Dee said.

"This girl cannot climb ladders."

"No ramp?" the woman asked.

I shook my head.

"Then you shall have to take one of the rooms and Junie Watts and I will share yours."

"What?" I almost laughed. I did not because Dee was serious. "Be careful, your highness, or your throne will be toppled."

Junie Watts stood behind Dee, cowering a trifle as she tried to follow our conversation. The black girl leaned down to talk rapidly into Dee's ear. The language was one I had never heard before. The girl seemed adamant in her speech with a touch of pleading. It required no great perception to see Junie Watts was frightened.

"What did she say?" I asked when the girl was silent.

"It is difficult to translate, Milieos, but I will try. She wondered why 'the brother' was so 'cold.' She said, 'He may be black, but he's no brother. He's a honky with a black skin, a damn Oreo.'"

"What does that mean?"

Dee arched an eyebrow. "I presume it is not flattering. She wants to leave. I am inclined to agree with her."

"Answer one question, Dee. Who are you?"

"Does our staying here or moving on depend on my answer?"

"It does."

Dee scowled. "I am Junie Watts' friend. I want what is best for her."

"A fair answer. I will ask one more then promise to give mine. Are you married?"

The red woman's eyes snapped wide, the question unexpected. Without hesitation she replied, "I am."

"Good. I will move my things upstairs before nightfall. I know not what Junie Watts means by the term 'brother', though I suppose we are all brothers and sisters having sprung from the Tree of Life."

"How much is our rent?"

"No rent, for you are hired as house labor. You will buy your own food though you'll cook for three. You see," I admitted unhappily, "a country doctor is rarely paid for his labor, I am a poor man."

Dee spoke to the girl in that other language for a moment. The black girl looked at me gratefully. I felt uncomfortable and my head began to throb. Junie Watts appeared ready to speak, but I held up my hand.

"Say nothing." I went to the door and took down my sword. I fastened it to my harness. "I am going out. If anyone asks I am at Kulua until noon, then to Pabsto's until sunset."

My sister greeted me with a kiss. "I am pleasantly surprised," she teased. "You are sober!"

"Do not remind me, dear."

I did not speak of Dee or Junie Watts until lunchtime when Kulua pushed me to the table and peeled a sompus fruit for me. "I have hired a woman to work in the house. She has a Jasoomian slave who is carrying a child."

"Why does she not make it walk?" Kulua asked.

"No, inside her. It is not born yet."

"Oh. Is she ugly?"

I pondered the question before answering. "Exotic. She is different. She is black."

"Oh!" Kulua repeated with more interest. "How strange!"

"Where is the wine? How can one have lunch without wine?" I intended a joke, but my voice was distant and cool.

Kulua put a decanter before me without a glass. "You won't need it, Milieos. You will drink it all before you leave. One of these days you will trip over your drunken feet and kill yourself on that silly sword."

"I carried no sword until Alia was killed by Warhoons," I said, my anger rising as hers ebbed. "Now I keep arms close by for another such time."

I was horribly disagreeable, more so than the words necessitated. I had hurt Kulua and that distressed me. "Forgive me. How do you put up with me?"

"It is not easy," Kulua answered. "But I love you and would rather have you come in misery than not see you at all."

"I do not deserve a sister like you," I said, rising from the table, the wine untouched. I bent to kiss Kulua. "Goodbye."

"May I come see you next week?" she asked from the doorway.

"Me, or the black Jasoomian?"

Dee was a passable cook. Her meals were simple and uncomplicated. She made no use of Alia's stock of treasured spices and I was secretly relieved because of that. Plain food did not remind me of vanished gastronomical pleasures. Plain food sat better on my abused stomach. Plain food satisfied nutritional requirements without burdening the purse. But two days of plain food and the stress of two women in the house made wine a necessity.

The red woman glared at me each time I filled the cup--and I would fill it frequently during a meal. She never spoke nor did she attempt to interfere, but that look was clearly disapproval.

Junie Watts watched me from afar, wary as a small thoat in a room with a banth. She showed fear each time I sipped wine, though I had never given either reason to believe I was violent in my inebriation.

After Dee sent Junie Watts to bed, I leaned across the table. "She has no reason to fear me."

"She has every reason to fear you. She fears all drunks. She fears men interested only in satisfying themselves. She has known nothing but pain and hardship because of men who drink."

"Not from me!" I growled. "I am a doctor."

Dee raised an eyebrow. "Truly? As a doctor, what advice would you give a man who consumes too much wine?"

"You know nothing about me. Do not presume to lecture me on the evils of strong drink."

"I know nothing because you have revealed nothing."

I smiled, "And neither have you." My anger evaporated as the inherent irony in her challenge turned against her.

"Goodnight, Milieos."

Junie Watts cooked lunch every third day when Dee shopped the market. She used too much fat at too high a temperature when preparing darseen lizard. She sometimes rolled the meat in flour and cooked it until well done. The pan leavings were thickened with water and mantilla milk into a sauce she called 'gravy', which was poured over bread and eaten.

The Jasoomian also did laundry, though never when Dee was around. The red woman deemed such labor too strenuous, though I had professional doubts in that regard. Junie Watts was a healthy girl, now that she ate regularly. She had been starved in the past and treated roughly, so her recovery was neither swift or complete.

I usually treated patients outside the clinic--farmers and ranchers are subject to all kinds of accident and misfortune and it is easier for me to go to them than for them to come to me. To facilitate my travel the town had provided several thoats which were kept in a barn behind the house. The thoats the women had ridden were turned in with mine. Junie Watts took it upon herself to feed the ugly beasts before the evening meal.

One night I sat on the bench beside the rear entrance and watched the black Jasoomian pitch dried moss into the pen. Her motion with the fork was smooth and practiced.

I crossed my arms over the wine bottle and leaned against the building. "You know thoats."

Junie Watts did not look toward me. "I know horses. Thoats are like horses."

"What is a horse?"

"The most wonderful creatures on Jasoom," she began. Junie Watts talked softly, mostly to the thoats crowded near the fence. The ugly beasts pushed each other aside to extend their snouts toward the black girl's gentle hands. She caressed each as she reminisced about an uncle's farm in Missouri and long rides on dusty summer roads and ice cream under a lantern surrounded by moths and June bugs.

"You have an insect named after you?"

"Me? Of course not!" Junie Watts laughed. "Them old bugs is named for the month of June."

She laughed. I had never heard her laugh. I liked it, and I suddenly felt guilty as Alia's smiling face filled my thoughts. The sound of thoats reminded me of blood and bones on a dirt road. I drained the bottle and threw it from me. Without a word I went into the house, grabbed another bottle and kept going straight out the front door. I heard Junie Watts call my name. Once. Then I heard no more as I sought a dark place in the woods to drown my sorrows.

The following morning Dee prepared breakfast. Junie Watts had not come from the back room. The red woman waited until I was seated, holding my aching head with both hands, before she spoke in a rigidly controlled voice.

"If you ever frighten that girl again, I will kill you."

I raised my eyes. I saw the woman's promise--and the strength of will to accomplish it.

Dee leaned over the table, her pretty face hard as stone. "You are free to indulge your misery as long as you cause that child no harm. Am I understood?"

"What right have you to order my life? It's my life--"

Dee's fist pounded the table once, startling me. "It's _my_ life now because you've thrown it away."

I would have argued with her. I would have thrown her out of the house. I would have, except--except that she was right.

I said, "You are hateful, Dee-whoever-you-are," and left without having breakfast. Food I could find on my rounds--as well as drink. And drink I needed to wash away the sting of the red woman's words.

Chapter 4 - Dejah Thoris: "What is my purpose now?"

My husband thinks highly of the First Born. He has many friends among the former Black Pirates of Barsoom and they, in turn, have learned to accept his friendship, for without the benevolence of the Warlord of Mars the tremendous armies under John Carter's command might easily obliterate the First Born. Fifty years ago my husband defeated the First Born at the South Pole. Twenty years ago he discovered Kamtol, a hidden colony of First Born. Two-hundred-thousand people had led a brutally balanced existence in the Rift Valley during the millennium before John Carter came searching for our Gatholian granddaughter, but once the location of that First Born city/state was known, and the leaders of Kamtol understood the dangers they faced from the Warlord's might, an internal revolution divided the Rift Valley into dozens of groups which then dispersed to colonize new areas.

Dator Tamat, Senca and Milieos' father, had founded a colony near the equator. In twenty years time a respectable beginning had been made, particularly since Tamat realized peaceful co-existence with the red man was the imperative course of action.

Dator Tamat wrought well when planning his village. He selected and trained a squad of rugged men to protect the people from wild beasts and brigands more savage than the beasts. He supported artificers and growers, ranchers and masons, plumbers and artists. He also located Thulium away from the main roads, not to handicap the colony but to insure it would survive. Five years ago Dator Tamat had left his eldest son in charge and boarded a flier to Otz Valley. Tamat's intention was to seek recruits among the First Born of the south, but he had not returned, nor had there been word of his whereabouts after messengers were sent to seek him. Senca assumed the dator title as it was his by inheritance and ruled Thulium with the same consideration and foresight as his father.

I did not learn the above in one day. I did not learn it in a week. As outsiders Junie Watts and I were accepted in Thulium because it was assumed we had immigrated. I saw no reason to correct the misconception. We did not meet everyone at first; like most small agricultural and ranching communities the Thilumites worked sunup to sundown on their isolated holdings and rarely came into the township proper.

All my life I have been protected from manual labor. It was never by my choice that I was segregated from ordinary work. I could never prevail against the wishes of my father and grandfather who insisted that my station must be honored at all times. Slaves cooked for me. They bathed me, dressed me, died for me. After I married my dear Virginian, I had greater success demanding freedom of personal choice for there was little John Carter could, or would, deny me.

"I shall learn to cook," I had once told my husband. "If I am ever abducted by an evil-doer and then escape into an inhospitable climate waiting for chance to bring you to my rescue I shall have need of that knowledge." John Carter had laughed and said, "You make a valid point, dear." He had kissed me then left me to my own devices. The precedent, once set, had served to free me from further restraints. I learned basic cooking skills and then learned how to hunt, how to camp on the land, and how to fight. My trainers were men from my husband's commands, or their wives, depending upon the instruction desired.

Washing clothes, gutting darseen lizards, or braising a thoat rump at the house of Milieos hardly occupied my mind. I had ample time to reconsider what I had done so quickly and seemingly without forethought when I appointed myself Junie Watts' protector. I regretted the difficult position I forced upon Rexa Hultan. The dear girl faced a greater travail than anything Junie and I had encountered since leaving Jhuma: my husband. I hoped my Virginian understood my decision and that no undue anguish tormented him. My father, a temperate man in most things, was excitable where I was concerned. If John Carter honored my wishes then he would have his hands full dealing with Mors Kajak. Grandfather would understand my mission. Tardos Mors had always seemed to understand me better than my dear father.

Milieos was a mass of contradictions. The man seemed competent as a physician, yet there was the matter of his drinking. He was morose and sullen at best, denigrating and belligerent at worst. His education was obvious and the reference works above his untidy desk embraced a wide range of study. At one time the man had been quite handsome, but the extended abuse of wine and strong spirits and neglect of proper nutrition had softened the black man's physique.

Milieos did not talk about himself and he talked to others even less. Patients who entered the clinic were greeted with a bleery-eyed nod, examined in silence and dismissed the same way, unless some terse instruction was required. The man held his own council in most things, preferring the company of a bottle to a person.

Junie Watts disliked the First Born physician. "He's a damn oreo," she said on several occasions, usually before we retired in the evening. "Snooty bastard. What's got his goat?"

The Jasoomian girl used English in a fashion so unlike that used by my Virginian. Quite often I had to infer the intended meaning by her expression or tone of voice. It was imperative that Junie Watts become proficient in the single oral language of Barsoom--that I might better understand the woman and her needs. I was rarely confused by her intent or meaning except when she became excited or overwrought. At those times, such as the night Milieos came through the door stumbling down drunk to crash into the table sending the work of an afternoon flying onto the floor, the poor girl lapsed into a speech pattern nearly incomprehensible to me. The sooner she spoke Barsoomian, the better it would be for us all. Therefore each night we had language lessons and during the day we would learn new words for objects and actions. Junie Watts was a willing student, bright and energetic. She learned quickly and I gradually used English less as her vocabulary increased.

Milieos ignored us for the most part, other than to cast grim looks whenever he deigned to notice our presence. He talked little, and never about himself. I learned something of the doctor's past when I went to market. The butcher was one of those irritating people who cannot resist spreading gossip. He chattered incessantly as he filled my order.

"So, has the good doctor finally come to his senses? Must be if he's hired help. That man has grieved longer than prudent. It's the wine, I tell you. He has a weakness for it. Since his wife was run down by a Warhoon's thoat he's not been the same. Nearly killed him, too. Did kill his son. Not his son, but the boy his wife had before he met her. Pretty red woman. Looked like you, dark-haired and small. Caused a big stir with Dator Senca. You wouldn't believe they were egg brothers the way Senca carried on. Folkar, his other brother, was quite different. Liked Alia right off. Was teaching the boy a thing or two about mechanicals. I know Folkar misses him. Still, for all the drink, that Milieos is a good doctor. Saved my wife's finger when a rail fell from the slaughtering pen out back and pulped it. Oh, it's not a pretty fix like one might get in one of those fancy big city hospitals, but she can use it and is grateful. She sends him fresh baked breads every week. So, where are you from? Never knew a red woman with a First Born slave before. She's an ugly girl, if you don't mind me saying. There was a time anyone of the red race enslaving a black or the other way around would be an act of war. What was her debt to you? Maybe you got her from someone who owed you? Well, I've watched her work those thoats of yours and Milieos'. She's good with animals. Will that be all?"

The village's garment maker provided additional insights into the character of our new landlord. "He is away from home most days. He makes daily rounds to visit patients outside Thulium." I thanked her for the two commodious dresses I had ordered for Junie Watts and returned to the doctor's house.

As usual Milieos had departed before I went to market. He had not returned when I arrived to find Junie Watts seated at the table which served as work area or dining as needed. She had found soiled bandages in one of Milieos' travel kits and boiled them. The girl had hung them to dry and was rolling them for storage. She started to rise when I entered.

"Sit, Junie Watts." I placed the package of meats in the cooking area's compact cool storage. "This is for you." I handed over the parcel containing the dresses.

The Jasoomian exclaimed her delight with a wide smile. Shaking the dress out, she held it against her misshapen body. "May I try it on?"

I chuckled. "Of course!"

Before she put on the new dress Junie Watts bathed herself using the small tub and cloth she had turned to that purpose. She is very clean in her habits, naturally so, and I believe that the presence of water and cloth for bathing did more towards her well-being than food and drink. Jasoomians "sweat" as John Carter says. There is no comparable word in the Barsoomian tongue as there is no comparable physiological function: our skins do not utilize fluidic exchange with the atmosphere to maintain temperature to our internal organs. Junie Watts sweated during the hottest part of the day, which was most of the day at the equator, and she bathed at least once each day, sometimes twice.

The dress fit with fabric to spare. The cloth was light green in color and thin enough to stay cool, yet was opaque to the eye. I stepped back and examined the girl with a critical eye. With a laugh I said, "You look like an ambulatory grass-covered foothill from the mountains south of Lesser Helium."

Junie Watts twirled, the skirt lifting, and smiled. "Golly, I am big!"

When I had taken charge of Junie Watts, she had been broken in spirit, degraded, humiliated, and scorned. She had not trusted me at first, but she had come to think of me as a friend. I knew this because of the warmth of her embrace as she thanked me. It was an awkward embrace as the hard extrusion from her abdomen bumped into me.

"I can barely put my arms around you," I laughed. She no longer appeared misshapen or deformed to my eyes. Junie Watts moved naturally and carried her burden without undue discomfort, except for wistful complaints about sore feet and back aches.

Junie Watts released me with a disturbed expression on her face. "I know I'm never going home again. This world will be mine until I die. What's going to happen to me? Am I your slave? I wouldn't mind being your slave."

I gently pushed the girl into a chair and sat across from her, so that our eyes were direct and upon an even level. "You are not my slave."

"What about that mark?" the girl asked. "I've been branded."

Her hands trembled. I took one in mine and spoke reassuringly. "You told me yourself the Okarian was killed and Holkat abandoned you. You are free."

Junie Watts took a deep, shuddering breath, and released it slowly. "I am not sure I wish to be free. I know nothing of this world. I do not know my place or my future. I had something to look forward to on my world, not much, but something. What is my purpose now?"

I have studied the great Barsoomian philosophers and understand them as little as I understand the physics regarding radium bulbs and wireless finders, but I pride myself as having consideration, compassion and conscience in abundance. "Unless you submit to another's chain, you are free, Junie Watts. No man of Barsoom will hesitate to come to your aid should you demand it."

"It was a man who enslaved me, Dee."

I nodded. The girl was sharp. "I do not imagine our world is so different than yours. We have bullies and bastards and barbarians as well as the righteous, devout and defenders. I, too, have suffered at the hands of others and been denied freedom of choice, though it has been many years since those events. I have not forgotten them, but they do not terrify me as much as they once did."

"You were a slave?" Junie Watts exclaimed. "I cannot believe it!"

"It was long ago," I smiled wistfully. "A man saved me."

Junie Watts squeezed my hand, sensing my happy memories. "What happened after he saved you?"

"I married him and made him my slave--a slave of the heart."

She shook her head then. "I don't understand why you're here instead of with him. You obviously love him very much."

I sighed. "Love without interruption or variation becomes very like a prison. Pleasant, wonderful, exciting, but a prison nonetheless. He is great man among my people. There are many demands upon his time and energies. I take what I can, when I can, and endure the absences. But you, dear girl, have had no happiness on my world. I think that is a great tragedy and it is something I can correct."

"So," Junie Watts smiled, "you're a social worker. I did not think there were any on Barsoom!"

We talked then of Earth and America and politics and racism in America and World Wars and epidemics and hatred and love and family and abuse and abandonment and divorce and relatives and kindness and hope. Junie Watts opened up to me that afternoon, laying bare her brave heart. We talked until darkness lay upon the land. We had laughed and cried, and clung to each other from time to time. I marveled at her inner resilience and strength. I learned details from her months of captivity, first with the crude Okarian and later with Holkat the First Born. She had survived a harsh existence which would have been the death of many others--either through hardship or by their own hand.

"You are a very brave girl," I said to her.

Junie Watts rose to unhood the radium bulb by the door. She seemed embarrassed as the soft glow filled the room. "I just want to live. I think that's all any living thing wants--while there's life, there's hope."

So many times I have heard that expression from my beloved's lips! I felt an overwhelming homesickness at that moment, a homesickness that was tempered with fond memories of my valiant Virginian. I was about to comment on these thoughts when the door to the house was flung open.

A man stumbled into the room, carrying a boy in his arms. The boy's left arm was covered with blood seeping beneath a rude bandage. Both were covered with dust, the red man breathing heavily. "My son has been injured. Where's the doctor?"

I said, "He's not back from his rounds. Put him in there on the table." I tugged on the man's harness to steer him in the proper direction. Between us we stretched the unconscious youth upon the examination table. "What happened?"

"Banth," the man sobbed. "Where's the doctor?"

"I'll do what I can until he arrives." I noticed the man had sustained injuries to his own person. A series of gashes across his scalp and a long cut on his thigh. "Sit down over there before you fall down."

I made sure the man did as ordered then turned to help the boy. I have some experience with wounds, as do most members of our war-like societies, but it has been years since I was called upon to use my meager skills.

Junie Watts was already at the boy's side, her long black fingers moving confidently as she opened the crude dressing and frowned. "Nasty. Missed the artery but there's a lot of damage. Must clean and close."

Without hesitation Junie Watts turned to Milieos' medical supplies and retrieved a general antiseptic, gauze and skin clips. She knew these things because Milieos had treated small injuries earlier and grudgingly answered the black girl's questions after it was over. That information was remembered and put to use. I saw that she was no stranger to caring for wounds. I let her work undisturbed, turning to the farmer to tend his injuries.

My work was less complex than the repairs Junie Watts attempted on the boy whose tendons and muscles were severed by the banth's savage teeth. She had clamped off a dozen heavy bleeders, but left the wound open as she removed clotted blood, sand, dirt and moss.

"I must close this, Dee, but unless the muscle is stitched and the tendons repaired, the arm will be useless. Is there needle and dissolving thread?"

I did not know--nor was I completely sure what she asked. I have no real medical knowledge and felt helpless. I told her as much.

"We must look, then, and quickly."

Junie Watts and I rummaged through the doctor's supplies. We were going into the second drawer when Milieos entered. He bellowed "Dinner for a hungry man!"

Before I could respond Junie Watts hurried into the next room and had a sharp, low-voiced conversation with Milieos. I could not hear what she said, but it must have made an impression, for the doctor entered the examination room in a sober manner. He was not sober--he reeked of home-made wine, but his hands were steady and his eyes focused.

"My bag," he said to Junie Watts. "On the thoat."

She immediately fetched it while Milieos examined the farmer. The farmer was relieved to see the doctor. "Look to my boy," the man pleaded. "That--that THING did things to him. She..."

"She probably saved his life," Milieos said, pushing the farmer back into the chair. "Sit quiet, or leave. Noise I do not need."

Junie Watts came in with the bag. I do not know if she had heard Milieos' words to the man. She must have, but made no sign that he had recognized her efforts. The girl placed the bag on the sideboard near the examination table and opened it. Two trays were lifted out and placed close at hand and she waited, hands poised to do the doctor's bidding.

Milieos held out a hand and named an instrument. Junie Watts, dear girl, furrowed her brow at the unfamiliar term. The First Born almost smiled and said, "The bent thing with the red handle. Then I'll need the yellow packet."

For the next three xats Milieos gave simple instructions and Junie Watts followed them without question or flaw. I would have liked to have watched the entire procedure, but the farmer, torn between concern for his son and his anxiety at having the deformed black girl assist, was close to becoming a bother. I ushered him out and pulled the curtain over the alcove. I made the man sit at the table and placed a cup of hot stimulant before him.

There being nothing further I could do for the farmer or the others, I began preparing the evening meal. I am not an imaginative cook. It did not take long to place the thoat rump into a pot of water with some roughly diced vegetables. I placed the pot into the oven then went to the door and paused, hand on the latch. To the farmer I said, "Do not worry. Milieos is a good doctor and that girl has knowledge of her own. I must feed the thoats. Do I have your word you'll not become a nuisance?"

The man shook his head. "I cannot give you my word on that account because I love my son, therefore let me care for your beasts to keep my mind occupied. I cannot stand the suspense."

I opened the door and stood to one side to allow the farmer's exit.

I mopped the floor where blood had dripped, stopping just short of entering the examination room. I could hear Milieos' voice, steady and unemotional, giving instructions to Junie Watts. I could imagine her standing at the doctor's side, as I had last seen her, efficiently responding to his direction. She had surprised me yet again, as she had countless times in recent past. There was more to Junie Watts than first meets the eye.

The farmer returned, looking disappointed to see the curtain still drawn. I, too, felt some concern as a half zode had passed and that is a long time for surgery. I handed the farmer another cup of steaming brew and we waited, sipping in silence.

Suddenly the curtain was flung back. Milieos led the Jasoomian to the table with an arm supporting her. "She's all right, Dee," he said at my swift concern. "Too long on her feet." To the farmer he added, "Your son is fine. We'll keep him here a few days to make sure the healing is well begun then you can take him home. It will be a while before he'll have full strength in that arm but he should recover fully. You can thank Junie Watts for that because she stopped the bleeding."

The farmer came to stand before the seated woman. He lowered his head, obviously ashamed for his previous thoughts. "I thank you for the life of my son. If there is ever anything that Antak Mobal can do for your house, you have but to ask."

At this point Antak Mobal removed the hatchet from his harness and laid it at the feet of Junie Watts. I have never seen homage paid more nobly than that simple gesture by a common farmer.

Milieos, who still stood by Junie Watts' chair, leaned down to whisper the meaning of the man's act--that he pledged himself and his house to her service without question for eternity if she would but accept it. She nodded then leaned down to lift the well-used implement and carefully handed it to Antak Mobal handle first. Graciously she smiled, and had the good sense to not spoil a special honor with speech.

A moment later the farmer, self-conscious yet relieved, bid us good night to hurry home with happy news for his wife.

Milieos washed his hands and dried them. He walked to the cabinet where he kept bottles of wine and spirits. He opened it and reached inside, but paused as his eyes met Junie Watts'. Milieos' expression darkened briefly then the man abruptly shut the cabinet door and turned away empty-handed. He poured a cup of brew and tasted it. The First Born grimaced horribly and said, "Dee, you are no cook."

"I have poisoned no one--yet." I added with a wink.

The next morning Milieos woke with a complaint. "My head does not hurt," he growled coming down the ladder. He nodded toward the curtain drawn across the examination room. "Have you looked in?"

"Junie Watts has been with him. She apparently checked on him several times last night."

"Did you know she had begun training to be a nurse before coming to Barsoom?"

"I did not. That explains what happened."

"It does, and it raises other questions. Where is she?"

"Feeding the thoats."

Milieos approached the cooking stove where I stirred a pot. He towered over me, big, black, and curious. "How is it that an obviously educated woman could allow herself to be made a slave? Why did she not take her own life rather than submit?"

"On her world, in her country, blacks have long been slaves or people of lesser rank. It was thus for centuries and personal freedom is something recently acquired. Perhaps for Junie Watts life was more important than freedom through death."

"I do not understand," Milieos began.

I interrupted abruptly. "How can you? You are a man."

"What is that supposed to mean?" the doctor scowled. He tasted my morning brew and the scowl deepened.

I narrowed my eyes with warning against comments on the cooking then answered his question. "It is a man's world on Jasoom just as it is here. Women are objects to be owned by men. We do not like it but that is the way of the world."

"I cannot imagine you owned by any man," Milieos sardonically remarked.

I smiled. Then I laughed. "He is not just any man, Milieos. He owns my heart and respect, and I have demanded the same from him and he has given it."

"I hear a 'but--'"

With a shrug I continued. "There are many kinds of slavery. Most are abhorrent to civilized beings but some are pleasant and desirable. We saw that last night when Antak Mobal pledged allegiance to our Junie Watts. He is her slave now, by choice, though she will never abuse that. But what happened to her when she first came to Barsoom, naked and alone, was not HER choice. It was so quickly done I do not imagine she had time to consider options to her predicament. Women rarely have that luxury as men make plans and execute them without consideration of others--meaning women--regardless of their color."

Milieos leaned against the counter and stared at me. It was apparent that he believed the woman standing before him now was not the same woman that had been in his mind moments before.

"Neither Junie Watts or you are what you seem. Who are you, Dee?"

The question was delivered by a sober mind this time. "I once told you I was Junie Watts' friend. I would like to be yours, Milieos. What difference does full knowledge of my identity make? I am still the same person regardless of origin or rank."

"Are you? Is she? Am I?" Milieos gulped down the hot beverage and put the cup down.

He did not wait for answers. Milieos quietly slipped past the curtain to look at Antak Mobal's son. I continued preparing breakfast. Junie Watts came from the back of the house, sweating just a trifle from pitching moss to the thoats. She blotted her face with a towel and sat down. "It be hot this morning."

"No English today," I said.

"The morning is warm," Junie Watts dutifully replied.

Milieos exited the examination room. "Good morning, Junie Watts," he said. "Your patient is doing well."

"I'm so glad! Is he awake?"

Milieos nodded. "And hungry. Pulped fruit, a grain mash and as much fluid as he can take."

"Yes sir!" Junie Watts replied, rising from the table.

The First Born chuckled--a pleasant sound which startled both Junie Watts and myself. "Sit. You may have the care of the boy, but let Dee do the cooking. As Dee told me, she has never poisoned anyone."

I put a bowl, pestle and three somp fruit on the table before Junie Watts. "Pulp the fruit, I'll make the mash."

Milieos did not leave the house as usual. He and Junie Watts watched over Antak Mobal's son and, when the farmer, his wife, and three sons and daughter came to visit at lunch, I left the house. Too noisy for me.

Chapter 5 - Junie Watts: Life in Thilum

Who would have thought I'd come to have affection for the thoats at Thilum? Even though they were big and ugly and ferocious, I had learned to love these weird, unruly Barsoomian beasts of burden.

Dee started me feeding thoats when we were on the road. Long before we arrived at Thilum I had timidly collected moss and other plants Dee pointed out because the best moss was often impossible for the animals to obtain, growing deep in cracks or the twisted roots of massive old trees.

"They have teeth!" I had stated, ashamed to admit my fear to the woman who was helping me. "I'm afraid."

"I won't let them hurt you," Dee promised.

She had faced the three thoats at our camp beside the road and stared at them with an intent expression. I knew she was talking to them, but I didn't hear anything. I knew she gave them a command, but the message was lost to me.

"I've implanted a telephatic command that the thoats should obey you," Dee smiled. "They will respond to voice commands if properly given. Lead them to the moss, pick it if they have trouble. They do not need much water as they derive nearly all their requirements from the moss."

I shook my head, my mind still dealing with something she first said. "Telepathy? Is that how it's done?"

The beautiful red woman had shrugged her shoulders. "It is something like telepathy," she explained, "but not as clear or direct as when two people exchange thoughts."

I remember how I shivered as I blurted: "Can you read my mind? Can you?"

Dee shook her head. "I can't read you at all. You are inert to any Barsoomian, that is, no intelligence can be gathered, only a feeling of void or raw emotion."

I decided to test her. I deliberately thought of Dee swinging from an oak tree with a KKK rope choking the life out of her. I made her eyes pop in my vision and I had a shotgun blast nearly cut her in half. The blood pooled on the dew-damp grass as torches flickered in the night and men in white sheets whirled about. It wasn't too hard to imagine. I had seen one of my cousins beaten and hung and murdered. I had been left alive to "tell every nigger you see." Ugly, horrible visions and I put Dee's face in the middle just to see what she would do.

She startled me with a sudden twist of her head. "What ails you, Junie Watts? What has caused your abupt pain?"

"You can't tell?" I asked, already knowing it was a dumb question because I could see the woman was genuinely concerned. "I just remembered something bad from my life on Jasoom."

"Was it in relation to thoats--or some animal like them? If so, I shall tend the creatures."

"Nothing like that," I assured her. "These big old things scare the fool out of me, but if you say they'll mind, I'll give it a try."

"And I did and they got used to me, no matter that I was a dead, empty mind. I used my voice and hands to herd the thoats and after a few days I became accustomed to them. By the time we arrived at Thilum and Milieos let us keep our mounts in the corral behind his house, the great beasts pushed against each other to be the first to greet me at the fence whenever I placed food into the corral.

The large male I called Big Gun because none of the others could stand against him. I eventually named the others Contessa, Duke, Leadbottom, Rebel, Nonesuch, Topper, Star and Juliet. Of course I couldn't tell which were males or females, I just chose names that seemed approriate.

My favorite was a smallish thoat of a strange slate and rose color that Dee had never seen before. Thoats were generally slate on top shading to a vivid yellow below, with tails more broad at the tip than the base. They had footpads rather than hooves or nails. The rose-colored thoat I named Sophie after a horse I had known and because she was the most loving of huge creatures.

I talked to the great brutes, eventually becoming confident in my relationship to them. They were tough, hardy specimens, breed down from the mighty desert thoats by the red race over untold years. I had seen wild thoats when I was on the Okarian's chain, and they were monsters compared to my charges.

Big Gun was always first at the feed trough, as one might expect of the largest creature, but for all his size, he was a quick, light eater and quickly moved aside. Contessa and Leadbottom liked to play. They nosed me hard, almost knocking me over. They would not leave me alone until I slapped their fang-filled snouts with a hearty hand. They loved rough affection. The others were not in need of direct contact, but they responded to my voice and gestures willingly enough. If I shooed them back, they'd go, or they'd come when I called. Sophie, though really liked me. She would stand beside me, her head dipped low, and nuzzle against my arm until I put it around her neck, then she'd lean into me with a sigh. She accepted a heavy pounding as cheerfully as the rest, but I discovered her secret spot, above her eyes, where a fingernail scratching at her hide would make her eyes roll up and her shoulders quiver. I believe Sophie would stand still forever if only someone scratched that spot for her.

The first time Dee saw me and Sophie in our favorite embrace she said, "That beast's mind is filled with pure pleasure. You have made a friend for life, Junie Watts."

"Do you think I can ever learn to talk to thoats, Dee?"

She had shrugged, as she often did at my questions since there were no established answers. "I know this Jasoomian who'd been here over a hundred of your years. He can do it. It is a matter of directed will--and a desire to match. Practice on your charges, Junie Watts. Who knows what may happen?"

I had stopped scratching when Dee mentioned the Jasoomian. Sophie mewled unhappily and nudged me with her snout. To keep her quiet, I resumed scratching the sensitive area. To the red woman I spoke softly, "You have met another Jasoomian?"

Dee came to the fence. Her eyes narrowed for a moment as if she were sizing me up, then she said: "For reasons I won't go into, it is best no one but you and me know what I am about to tell you. I am married to a Jasoomian. That is how I know your language. That is how I know something of America, but the Amercia you have described to me is nothing like the America told to me."

"Did you run away from him?"

Dee laughed suddenly, almost girlishly. "Heavens, no! I love him more than life itself."

"Then why are you here? Why did you help me?" This had troubled me for some time.

Dee lowered her eyes for a moment, watching where her fingers toyed with a splinter of skeel wood forming the rails of the corral. "Most of all I wanted to help you. That's foremost." She looked at me hard, to make sure I did not misunderstand. I smiled back, grateful to her for I had truly been only hours from death when my red angel appeared.

"But there are other reasons why I decided upon this course of action rather than others available. You see, back home my life is fully ordered. I have little to say about my own destiny. Oh, it's not as bad as that sounds, I am my own mistress and few can deny me what I most desire, but it is not the same as being wholly dependent upon one's own abilities. It was that part of my life I wished to explore."

"And I was a happy circumstance?"

Dee took my hand with a gentle smile. "Girl, you were not happy and I believe in fate. I was meant to find you--and you to find me. We both have something the other needs."

"I know what I need from you, Dee...I need everything. But what do you need from me? It sounds like you have need of nothing."

Sophie came between us. I had neglected the old thing. "Behave!" I admonished with a hug. "Off with you!" I shooed the thoat away with an arm gesture. With a snort and head shake, almost like a pony in a pasture, Sophie turned inside her body-length and dashed to the other side of the corral.

Dee helped me through the rails and I kept hold of her arm as we walked around the house to the street. "You didn't answer me, Dee."

The woman arched a beautiful brow and winked. "Getting bold, are we?"

My eyes grew round. I had forgotten. Oh, dear Lord, I had forgotten! I stopped abruptly and began to kneel. "Forgive me, mistress. I--"

"Junie Watts, you stand this instant!"

Her voice was sharp as a knife and cut twice as deep. Dee's eyes glared at me, cold as a Chicago winter. "You are not my slave. You have never been my slave. You are not Holkat's slave--if you ever were--and as for that nasty little Okarian, he's dead. Do you understand?"

I nodded quickly, as I knew she would take me by the arms and shake me until I said 'yes'. Dee scared me at that moment. She was hard as nails and filled with such instant fury that I was afraid.

"Oh, Junie Watts," Dee sighed, the anger suddenly vanished, "I have frightened you when that was the last thing I desired. Listen to me, child: You are not a slave. You are Junie Watts."

"Yes ma'am. I always have been. But sometimes I wasn't sure. Are you angry with me?"

"For what?" Dee asked, putting an arm around me. The woman hugged me briefly then surprised me with a kiss on the cheek. "You are innocent of wrong, Junie Watts. My world has treated you harshly."

"I suppose," I said, "but so did mine."

"How do you mean?"

I looked away, though I leaned against her for comfort. I opened my mouth several times, but no words came forth. Dee patted my arm and said, "Some other time, dear. When you're ready we'll talk."

"Yes ma'am."

Milieos was out the day a tall black warrior walked into the house without a by-your-leave or knock on the door. He glared at me, being the first person he saw, and he looked down at my belly, big, black and shiny as I stood in the tub at my morning bath.

"You are the Jasoomian creature."

Dee's voice, from the kitchen area, caused the Dator to turn toward her. "You are the boorish Barsoomian creature. Get out of this house."

"What?"

"You have no invitation, nor were instructions left to expect a guest. Out." Dee revealed the depth of her seriousness by stepping forward, a carving knife in hand.

"I am Dator Senca," the black man stammered, taken aback by Dee's aggressive behavior.

"You could be Kantos Kan, Jedwar of the Heliumatic Navy, but that would not excuse your utter rudeness. Out!"

Dee stood less than two feet away from the man who towered over her. Her body was defiant, the knife held in an unwavering hand--and it was directed toward his naked breast. The way she held the knife he knew she was familiar with its use. I could have told him about the man Dee killed on the road, but somehow, I didn't think it was necessary. He backed away.

"Pardon me. Before I correct my error, who may you be?"

"I am the keeper of the house of Milieos. The Jasoomian is his patient. Before I close the door on you, what may you be?"

"I am Dator Senca, the brother of your master."

"No man is my master," Dee replied. "Until your brother gives permission, your place is beyond that threshold." She nodded toward the door without taking her eyes off the man.

Dator Senca was an imposing figure. He was older than his brother Milieos by at least a decade. Milieos was supposed to be over a hundred years old, but I didn't believe it--he looked thirty-five physically, but his drinking and poor habits had left him looking tattered and fifty-ish.

I could see Dator Senca was tempted to try his luck against the red woman. I also knew Dee would respond to force with force. I did not wish to see my friend and savior endangered and killing was sinful. I distracted them both by stepping from the tub and wrapping myself in a cloth. I walked behind Dator Senca, which caused him to divide his attention. At the door, I held the panel invitingly.

"Please return when your brother is in residence," I said, using the formal sounding Barsoomian phrases Dee taught me. "We have no instructions regarding visitors who are not patients. Therefore we must err on the side of caution. Please, sir, leave with our deepest apology and respect."

For an instant it appeared the man was beyond intelligent reason. Then, with a short laugh, he relaxed. Senca stepped back from Dee three paces before showing his back. Facing me he bowed slightly. "My apologies to the house of Milieos and his patient--and," he added as a deliberately off-handed insult, "the hired labor. I shall return when Milieos is home."

The man strode past me as smart as any military man I'd ever seen. I quickly closed the door because Dee looked fit-to-be-tied.

"I do not like that man," she said. "Thank you for having the sense I did not. That was very well done, Junie Watts."

I was shaking like a leaf. Death had been so close just a moment before. Dealing with all that tension I felt a general exasperation. To Dee I growled, "'Junie'! My friends call me 'Junie', not 'Junie Watts'. Please call me 'Junie'!"

As I went to my room to dress, Dee lowered her head. "Thank you--Junie."

That afternoon there was a knock at the door. Looking toward me, Dee opened it, her hand on the hilt of a knife belted at her back. A very tall and imposing black woman stood on the veranda. Her hair was done up like those beehives the white girls were wearing back home, only there were jewels and chains of precious metal inset in that fancy do. She wore a cloak wrapped like a sarong and metal bracelets adorned her arms. Rings with glittering gems were on her fingers and even her sandals where encrusted with jewels.

"I am Kulua," she said with voice like a music box. "I am Milieos' sister. I have a message from my brother."

Dee opened the door fully, but she did not quite step aside. "What is it?" she asked with reasonable politeness.

"Milieos has been delayed. He will not return home this evening. He sent word to me, being nearest to his present location, to advise you."

"Advise us of what?" Dee demanded---again politely, but not giving an inch.

"I do not know why, but Dee's wariness with this woman annoyed me. I stepped in front of my red friend and smiled at Kulua. "Please come in. I'm sure it will be all right," I added, looking at Dee.

"Forgive our caution," I pleaded of Kulua, "we had an unfortunate missunderstanding this morning."

Kulua giggled,