

## Martiana Queen

### by John Cosper

Copyright 2015 by John Cosper

www.righteousinsanity.com

Cover art by Erik Hodson

Models: Ally LaBar and Dennis Grinar

Smashwords Edition

### DEDICATION

This tale of daring and adventure is dedicated to Lt. Gullivar Jones, USN, and Capt. John Carter, US Army. I only hope that I can do the same justice to the adopted home of these brave space pioneers as they did in their own volumes about the Red Planet.

\- Stewart John Jones of Mars

### Contents

FORWARD

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

# FORWARD

The book you are about to read was written by Stewart John Jones, a video game wizard, a comic book aficionado, and a walking, talking encyclopedia of the _Star Wars_ galaxy. The text of this book was emailed to me and two other people just one day before Stewart disappeared for the second time. Although Stewart expressed his desire to publish this memoir in his email, there was some debate as to whether we should proceed without his consent. There was some concern that Stewart might return and sue us for the rights and royalties collected, but we were much more concerned about the embarrassment that revealing this true story to the world would bring.

When the guys and I finally decided to publish this book, I was nominated to write an introduction. I don't know why anyone would care what I have to say about this story, or my pal Stewart. I mean sure, I know him as well as anybody else, but it's not like I'm Jim Ross writing an introduction for another book by the hardcore legend, Mick Foley. I'm just an ordinary guy who can't get a date to save his life because all I know how to talk about are comic books, movies, and hockey. But hey, Stewart was my best friend, and if someone's going to write an excuse for him, well, I guess I'm it.

I first met Stewart when I was eight years old. My family had moved in the middle of the school year, and Stewart became my friend right away because he liked my old school Transformers lunchbox (a hand me down from some big brothers). Two weeks after I met him, he came over for a sleep over and showed me a movie that forever changed my life: _Megaforce_ starring Barry Bostwick. He is best loved and remembered from his work in _Rocky Horror_ and _Spin City_ but for me he will forever be Ace Hunter, the guy with the cool beard and the flying motorcycle.

Stewart taught me everything I know about how to be cool. I learned all about comic books, science fiction, fantasy, role-playing games, and all that neat stuff. He also introduced me to another guy, Ted, who became good buddies with us. When we were in junior high we started to hang out at Howie's Cantina, the friendliest comic store in town. We've been spending our weekends (and most weeknights) at Howie's ever since. He was kind of our wise sage in life, teaching us everything from how not to get ripped off on a trade for Magic cards to how it is possible for one person to love _Star Wars_ and _Star Trek_ equally (although Ted asked me to add a note stating that he still denies that such a person can exist in this dimension).

Stewart was always the dreamer, and I found myself looking up to him for that. Ted liked to point out the negatives, but Stewart always told me I could do anything. I wasn't even going to bother with college, but Stewart kicked my butt and made me apply. For some strange reason, Stewart himself never went to college, but I hold no grudge. I'm graduating in a few months with a degree in computer animation, and I'm thinking my first project might be an animated version of this story.

Over the last few months I've heard one question more than any other: do you believe this story is true? My publisher doesn't believe it at all. Neither does Ted. Howie wants to, but I can tell he just isn't sure. I can tell you that when Stewart vanished the first time, he was gone about a week. The last time I saw him, things went pretty much the way he describes it. There's no earth science explanation for how it happened or where he went or how he got back, as for all the stuff that happens in between, well, you'll just have to decide for yourself what you believe. I've never known Stewart to be a liar, and being a bit of a romantic myself, I like to say I believe him.

Despite their lack of faith, Ted and Howie agreed that Stewart had a million dollar story to tell and he should definitely write it down. There was less agreement when Stewart asked if he should pitch the book as science fiction or a travelogue. Stewart was quick to point out that his would not be the first travelogue written about Mars. (See _Lt. Gullivar Jones: His Vacation_ and John Carter's _A Princess of Mars_ for earlier accounts.) But since no good travel books on Mars had been written in over a century, Stewart agreed the time was right, and he typed everything out for us.

As of today, when I am writing this note to you, Stewart has yet to return. The circumstances of that disappearance are unexplained. However, I have included an epilogue taken from an unpublished blog entry that was found on his computer that offers some clues as to his whereabouts.

Judge for yourselves whether this tale is true. As I have said in countless interviews and conversations, the events that I was present for did happen just as Stewart describes. As for the rest of it, let me tell you straight up: Stewart was never a creative guy. His attempts to write comic books were sad at best, and he was a terrible liar. For him to come up with all this would have been quite a feat.

I hope you will read on without prejudice, and enjoy the story within. Regardless whether you think my pal is a liar, two things are true: (a) it's quite a story, and (2) admit it, we all wish we could go on an adventure like this.

Marty Jacob Reddenmacher

(On behalf of Ted Merkin and Howie McDonald, co-publishers of the book you are about to read and Stewart's best friends.)

# CHAPTER ONE

My name is Stewart John Jones, and I hail from New Albany, Indiana. Never heard of it, right? It's on the Ohio River, right across from Louisville, Kentucky, which means we get all the perks of living in a semi-major city without the shame of a Kentucky address. Louisville's not too bad, though. Nice comic stores, some good movie theaters. Sure could use another hockey team, though.

I graduated high school in New Albany from the same high school where Edwin Hubble once taught science and Spanish. Yes, that's the same Edwin Hubble who had a famous telescope named for him. We're mighty proud of him, but sad that he is still unknown for his greatest accomplishment – leading the boys basketball team to an undefeated season in 1912. (Google if you must; it's absolutely true.)

Myself, I was never into science. I loved reading, and I spent most of my reading time soaking in science fiction and comics. My best buds Ted and Marty and I would head down to Howie's place after school. Howie ran a comic shop just a short jog away, and we'd spend most of our afternoons there reading books, talking movies, playing games, and dodging homework.

Graduation came before any of us were ready for it. Ted enrolled at the local Indiana University branch, and Marty enrolled at Louisville. I turned a part-time job at the Kwik-Mart into a full-time career. Other than being different places during the day, our lives didn't change much. We were at Howie's almost every night. The comics changed. The movies changed. The old N64 systems gave way to the new Nintendo Wii. But life went on as it always had, with no sign of change in sight.

It wasn't that I didn't want to go to college or didn't have any dreams. I just didn't have any sense of destiny. Call it a side effect of reading too much Joseph Campbell, but I really felt like I needed some sort of sign, some calling from on high before I would know what to do. Besides, I was having too much fun. I had my own place with dirt cheap rent, and without a girl to drain my resources, I had plenty of money just to hang out and have fun.

That was the thing that bothered my Mom more than not going to college. Mom wanted grandkids, and if I didn't get on the stick, it would be another ten years before my baby sister was of marrying age. But just like the whole college deal, I wanted to feel a certain something for the girl I married. I avoided hook ups, and I stayed as far away from Internet chat sites as I could go. I did humor my Mom once and let her fill out the e-Harmony compatibility survey for me. I was quite relieved and only mildly insulted when it came up "incompatible."

Hey, look, I like girls, all right? But I liked stuff a lot more. Besides that, there was really only one girl who ever made me even THINK about spending money on her: Felicia Douglas.

Her mom was the theater teacher at one of the nearby high schools. Felicia herself was a dream. The girl was gorgeous, and she could sing like nobody's business. She was popular, but reasonably open-minded for being popular. In other words, she'd actually say hello to guys like me who wore the same Batman shirt for days on end. (If it didn't stink, it was clean.) Heck, she even danced a round with me to "Lady in Red" on prom night. She was out of my league, but she set the bar pretty high for all the rest... and she was a convenient excuse when people tried to fix me up. "No thanks, just waiting for my dream girl to come back and realize I was here all along."

Not that I expected it to happen. I was resigned to the fact that I would, one day, get over her. She left town right after graduation on the arm of a handsome slab of meat. Girls like that didn't come home to marry guys like me. Needless to say, no one was more shocked – and pleasantly surprised – than I was the day she came walking back into my life.

It was a typical slow Wednesday afternoon at the Kwik-Mart. My boss was out of town on vacation, which meant I was free to bring in my Wii. (Not that it was allowed; just that I couldn't be caught.) I was on level fifteen of Sword and Planet, dispatching hordes of Jupiterians with my awesome sword skills when I heard the bell on the door. Engrossed in battle, I didn't even notice until she had grabbed a Diet Pepsi and a Giant Reese's Cup and returned to the counter. I paused the game, turned – and nearly fainted.

"Felicia?"

"Stewart?" she said. "Stewart Jones? Is that you?" Unbridled in her ecstasy, she leapt into my arms. I kissed her like she had never been kissed before.

Yes, I'm kidding.

There was no kiss, no leap over the counter. But there was a smile, followed by feeling in my stomach I hadn't felt since, well, graduation. She was still the same Felicia I had known since first grade, the one who blossom into a beautiful prom queen. Now she stood before me a woman, looking a-MAZ-ing in a pair of old jeans and a tank top. Of all the Slushie joints in all the towns in all the world, she walked into mine.

And now she was smiling to me.

"Are you okay?" she said.

I realized that I was staring at her, saying nothing, probably looking like that scary stalker type. I shook myself out of my state of euphoria and frantically searched for a response.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, great. Never better. How are you?"

"I'm okay, thanks," she said.

"So, how's life?" I rattled on. "I saw on Facebook where you married some Swedish body builder."

Smooth, right?

Felicia blushed. "Yeah, Tor."

"Tor." The very name of the guy sounded strong enough to kill me. "How is Tor?"

"We're not together any more."

"Really?"

"He left me two months ago for Swedish National Field Hockey Team," she said.

"Tor plays field hockey too?"

"Not field hockey. Just field hockey players," she said.

I nodded. She didn't need to elaborate.

"Yeah. I really don't like talking about it."

"I'm sorry, I never should have asked," I said.

"No, it's cool," she said. "That's what we do when we meet old classmates right? Compare notes, find out who's fat, who's divorced, and who's gay."

"And who's in jail," I added.

She laughed. "You always were a quick one."

"Yeah," I said, trying to decide if I should tell her about the recent meth lab bust that netted most of the varsity soccer team from our senior year. Knowing she had dated a few of them, I let it go. "So what brings you back to New Albany?

Felicia shrugged. "What else can a girl do when her marriage falls apart but go home and get her head together?"

"I can think of a lot more exciting places than this," I said.

"True," she said. "But in all the world, is there any greater comfort food than the breadsticks and beer cheese at Sports Time?"

Ah, Sports Time, a New Albany tradition. Best pizza, sticks, and beer cheese in the world. And then there's the beer list. No Bud, no Coors, no Miller. Just hundreds and hundreds of the best brews from around the world. There's a reason it was rated in the top ten beer joints on the planet.

"Can't argue with you there," I said.

"I'm surprised you're still working here after all these years," she said.

"Yeah, I'm still here," I said. "Holding the fort down, until I find my true destiny."

"Working hard too," she said, eyeballing the Wii.

"Well, one never knows when you'll be called upon to wield a sword and slay aliens, right?" I thought it was a funny joke at the time. Then I... well, I'm getting ahead of myself. And you don't want to miss the part that's coming.

"So, since you're still in town, any chance you might wanna grab some breadsticks with me?" she asked.

"Me?" I was a bit stunned.

"I know, you probably still have your nightly rendezvous with the guys, but I thought, if you ever had an off night..."

Are you kidding? I love my guys, but this is Felicia Douglas we're talking about. "No, no, I can do a pizza. That sounds great."

"You sure?"

"Heck yes!" I blurted out. "I mean, yeah, I can... what time?"

"Today?" Felicia thought a moment. "I could do dinner if you're not working too late."

"I'll be off by five."

"Five it is," she said.

Score!

"Good, five," I said, knowing that life just didn't get any better.

And then, it got worse.

I didn't see him come in. The girl of my dreams had just walked back into my life, and I was a little distracted. The first I even knew he was in my store was when he pressed the barrel of a handgun into my forehead.

"Freeze, punk! This is a stick up!"

Felicia squealed. The swarthy man in a ski mask and a dirty old overcoat grabbed her by the arm and shushed her. "If you know what's good for you, you and your boyfriend won't make a sound!"

Felicia said nothing. In a small way it made me feel good. He had called me her boyfriend, and she had not objected. But that was a small joy in the face of the gun pressing into my flesh.

"Hey, anybody home?" he screamed at me.

"Hey, take it easy," I said. "We can make this real simple. I've been trained to give you whatever you want, so just name it."

The gunman looked suspicious. "You serious?"

"Absolutely," I said. "Just don't hurt my girl." Again, no objections. I should have been more concerned with getting the gunman out before he shot one of us, but I couldn't help myself. It was Felicia Douglas!!

The man threw a Kroger sack at me. "All right then. Empty the register. And hurry!"

"No problem," I said.

"And no dye packs, do you hear me?"

"We don't have any, sir," I assured him. I opened the drawer and began pulling out all the cash. I cast Felicia a glance and gave her a smile, hoping to calm her down. She was terrified, but I was determined to get us both out of this alive.

"Come on, come on!" the guy shouted. His gun hand was shaking. He kept a steady grip on Felicia with the other. I dropped a bundle of ones and had to step back to pick it up. Oh, if only I could have taken back that one, fateful step!

With the drawer finally empty, I held the bag out for the man with the gun. He waved the barrel at the safe behind me.

"That thing locked?"

"Yes, but I know the combination," I blurted out. "My manager trusts me."

"Good!" he said. "You can empty that too."

I took the Kroger sack back and turned to the safe. I dialed the combination and began to empty the safe into the bag. When I ran out of room, I grabbed another sack from under the counter and filled that one was well. It was stupid, but the woman of my dreams was in danger. Surely my boss would understand.

I gave both bags to the gunman. He finally let go of Felicia and took a firm hold of his prize. Backing away, he leveled the gun at both of us.

"All right," he said. "You two stay real still. Count to two hundred, and don't move a muscle."

Felicia was too frightened to speak. I began counting for both of us as he made his way to the door. He wasn't halfway out before he heard the sirens.

Four police cars streamed into the lot, seemingly out of no where. The gunman was back inside in a flash, gun back in my face.

"You call the cops on me?"

"What?" I said. "No, of course not!"

"You got a silent alarm?"

That's when it hit me. I looked back and saw the silent alarm button on the floor. I had stepped on it while emptying out the drawer. It wasn't the first time; I'd set the alarm off three times before when I got so into Sword and Planet I lost sense of where I was. This time there just happened to be an actual burglar in the store. I kind of wished the cops had treated me like the boy who cried wolf and ignored me, just this once.

"You set me up!" the gunman shouted.

"It was an accident!" I shouted back. "Really, I just want to get you out of here and keep her safe."

"Yeah?" he said. "Too bad. 'Cause now this is happening!"

The man wrapped his filthy arm around Felicia. She yelped as he pulled her toward the door.

"Stewart, help!"

The gunman paused, looked at me with almost pity.

"Stewart? Your parents hate you or something?"

Felicia did her best to get away, screaming at him, "Let go of me!"

"Take it easy, doll," he said. "We're just gonna go for a ride."

I couldn't let this happen. Not now. Felicia was my girl. I summoned all the courage I had ever known in my lifetime and stepped up.

"Sir, wait a moment!"

BANG!

A bullet split the ceiling tile over the gunman's head. Felicia screamed as foam rained down on her soft, silky hair. He lowered the gun and pressed the barrel – the sizzling, hot barrel – into my forehead.

"You got something to say, hero?" he said.

I wanted to speak, but the pain on my forehead was too much. "Ow?"

The gunman backed away. He kicked open the door and drug Felicia outside, and out of my life, leaving me with a painful scar in the forehead and another in my heart.

# CHAPTER TWO

Six hours later I was in the back room at Howie's place, a battlefield littered with dead dwarves and goblins spread out on the table before me. We'd been playing this particular quest for weeks, but that night no one cared about the quest for the elfin princess. It was all about my failure to protect the woman I loved in real life. Howie chain-smoked silently through my sad tale. Marty looked on, mouth agape, dressed splendidly in his lucky wizard's cloak. Ted, wearing his Thursday T-shirt (X-Men), remained surprisingly silent, right up to the point when the gunman ran off with my girl.

"That," he said, "has to be the most pathetic story I have ever heard."

"How can you say that?" said Marty. "Stewart could have died today!"

"But he didn't die," said Ted. "And he let his dream girl, who practically threw herself at his feet, be whisked away by some mad gunman. Zero points for bravery, Sir Stewart."

"I never said she threw herself at me," I said. "She just wanted to get breadsticks."

"I guarantee she won't go for breadsticks now," he replied.

Howie blew smoke across the table. "All right, Ted. You're so smart, would you have done anything differently?"

"I would have watched where I stepped for one," said Ted.

"And if the guy tried to make off with your girl, would you have taken a bullet for her?" asked Howie.

"Did I say I would take a bullet?" said Ted. "No. But I never claimed to be the man of chivalry like Stewart here."

"The guy had a gun, Ted!" said Marty. "That changes things."

"It wouldn't change things for Tony Stark," said Ted. "Or Bruce Wayne, or Peter Parker. Can't say the same for Dr. Manhattan over there."

The guys all laughed, staring at the round scar on my forehead, positioned in exactly the same spot as the atom Dr. Manhattan wore on his forehead in _Watchmen_. Over the years, I had acquired a number of lousy nicknames, and while Dr. Manhattan wasn't the worst, it wasn't one I cherished.

"Look, it wasn't like we were engaged or even in love. It was Sports Time. It was dinner. It was nothing."

"Nothing, eh?" said Ted, in trial attorney mode. "I suppose you were gonna let her pay?"

"Of course not," I said.

"Then it was a date," said Ted.

"Paying doesn't make it a date," said Marty. "I've paid for plenty of dinners for girls, and it turned out we weren't on a date."

Ted laughed. "That's because you are simple and easily used."

Howie jumped in. "So what happened to the girl?"

"The cops rescued her an hour later, just north of Seymour," I said.

"He made it to Seymour?" said Marty.

"Yeah," I said. "Twenty state troopers ran him down. They used spike strips and everything. It was all over Fox News. I'm surprised you guys didn't see it."

"If it's not on Ain't It Cool News, it's not worth knowing," said Ted.

"So the girl's okay?" asked Howie.

"Far as I know."

"What about the money?" asked Marty.

"They got it all back," I said. "It's being held for evidence at the moment, but my former employer will get it all back."

"Former employer?" Ted raised an eyebrow, a move he had worked hard to develop after years of watching Leonard Nimoy on _Star Trek_.

"Did I forget to mention I was fired?" Fired was putting it mildly. I never heard such language, even in a Tarantino film. The old man who owned the place was furious, not because his store was robbed, not because I got into the safe, but because I ruined his Florida vacation by letting the place get robbed. His rage and fury on the phone were so white hot, the cops who were still on the scene offered to hook me up with a restraining order.

Having concluded tale of humiliation and loss, the abuse pretty much ended for the night. Howie switched everyone's gears with news of a big comic cross-over between Archie and Hellboy that would have Jughead joining the B.P.R.D. I don't know if there's any truth to the rumor, but it made Ted angry enough to leave me alone the rest of the night. I couldn't stop thinking about Felicia and finally called it quits about ten. I figured I could slip out the door and head home quietly, but fate wasn't done messing with me just yet.

It was a beautiful night, and the sky was full of stars. We're not country in New Albany, but we're outside the city lights just enough to get a decent look at the sky. I paused beside my old '85 Dodge Charger to gaze up for a moment. That's when I noticed the moving light. It wasn't flashing like an airplane, and it wasn't fleeting like a shooting star. It was bright, steady, streaking. And I soon realized it was headed right for me.

I ran hard as I could back toward the comic shop. The streak fell from the sky and slammed down on the roof of my poor car, annihilating it. I stood up to look at the burning wreck in disbelief. The guys were outside in a flash.

"Holy crap!" screamed Marty.

"Wow," said Ted. "I don't know what you did to him, but God is really mad at you today."

The following afternoon, Ted brought a copy of the _Tribune_ to my apartment. It was a banner day for seeing my name in print. The robbery was in the police blotter on page five, and my exploding car made the bottom half of the front page.

Ted gleefully read the article aloud. Police and fire crews - who did not stop laughing during the hour-long investigation - decided that the incident was an astronomical event. There was a brief mention about a professor from the university who spotted the falling object just before it landed on my car, and some vague reference to the planet Mars.

I could have cared less. I stayed in bed (which, in my apartment, means the couch) all day. Matter of fact, I stayed in bed for the next three days, finally getting up and showering the morning the cops called and told me I could get the charred, shattered remains of my car.

Marty gave me a lift in his Chrysler Imperial, a car he affectionately referred to as Mrs. Emma Peele. We went down to the impound lot, which was nothing more than a fenced in yard with a small trailer sitting out front. I went inside and found an Officer Ricks, half asleep, watching _The People's Court_ behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" said Officer Ricks, without ever looking up.

"I'm Stewart Jones. Here to get my things from my car."

Ricks hit the mute button on the TV remote and turned to me.

"You're Jones?"

"Yes," I said, suddenly a little uncomfortable at the way this cop was staring at me.

" _The_ Stewart Jones?" he asked.

"Well, I'm a Stewart Jones," I said. "My grandfather was also--"

"Daniels!" Ricks shouted. Another cop came out of the back room. "Check it out, it's Stewart Jones."

Daniels began to chuckle. "So you're Jones, huh?"

Now I got it. Jokes on me, once again. "Yes, sir."

Daniels and Ricks continued to laugh. "I'll get the bag," said Daniels. "You get his info."

Officer Ricks slid a rather official looking form on a clipboard over to me. "Just need you to fill this form out for me."

I filled in my name, address, social, the usual jazz while Ricks tried to contain his glee at meeting the famous Stewart Jones. The joke got funnier when Daniels reappeared a moment later with a box containing the shattered remains of my life. He began emptying the contents onto the counter for my examination, giggling the whole time.

"One iPod, charred black. One box of comics, charred black. One sleeping bag, charred black. One lightsaber, charred black. One throw rug." The cop turned the rug over a few times. "That's funny. It looks okay to me."

I looked up from my forms. A throw rug? I practically lived out of my car the last few years, but I could never remember even owning a throw rug. I started to tell the cops they had made a mistake, when Daniels added:

"One dead body, charred black." Both men doubled over in laughter. "I'm so sorry," said Daniels. "You can't have that. It's evidence! Ho ho ho!"

Ho ho, indeed. "What do you mean, dead body?"

"There was a dead body burned up on top of your car!" said Ricks.

"A dead body?" I said. "I thought this was some space debris."

"Hmm," said Ricks, stroking his chin. "Maybe one of the astronauts fell out the window of the space station."

Daniels chuckled as he packed my things and the throw rug back into the box. I decided I didn't care if it was my rug or not. I was taking it.

We went back to my apartment, and I finally got back to the business of life. I called the car insurance company while Marty played on the Wii. As you might expect, my insurance company didn't buy the story about falling space debris.

"What do you mean, this wasn't an act of God? How else did some burned up dead guy land on my car?"

"I am sorry sir," said the woman with the Indian accent named "Linda." "This type of accident is simply not covered by your policy."

"Lady, a man fell out of the sky onto my car."

"Any damage caused in an accident between your vehicle and a pedestrian is strictly your liability. That is in your policy manual."

"Lady, God made man to walk on the Earth, lady. Not fall out of the sky!"

"Sir, there is no reason to shout."

"Yes, there is a reason to shout! My car was destroyed by a man falling from the sky. I wasn't even in the car when it happened!"

"Sir, there is nothing I can do. Man to vehicle accidents are not covered under your policy. Now would you like to hear about our boat insurance?"

I was about to unload on my new friend "Linda," when I heard a knock at the door. I hung up the phone and answered, hoping against hope it was a real, live person from my insurance company come to make good on my policy. Instead, I saw an excitable, short, bearded man holding a huge leather case.

"Stewart Jones?" he said.

"Safe Driver Insurance Company, I presume?"

"No, sir," he said. "My name is Dr. Paul Pierson, from the Indiana University Southeast Observatory. May I come in?"

"I didn't know they had an observatory down there," I said.

"Oh, yes, sir!" he said. "In fact I was the one who saw that object land on your car."

"Any chance you have any photos?" I asked. "I'm having a terrible time getting my insurance company to pay for the car."

"Mr. Jones," he said, "If my theory is correct, you may soon be so rich, you'll be able to buy a hundred cars."

"Really?" I was never much of a car guy, but that amount of money would definitely go for a lot of other things I did care about.

"May I come in?"

"Sure," I said. Dr. Pierson entered the living room and dropped his case on the coffee table. Marty paused his game.

"What's going on here?"

"This is Dr. Pierson, from the observatory," I said, shrugging.

"Mr. Jones, did the police discover anything unusual in the wreckage of your car?"

"I'll say," I said. "There was a body."

Dr. Pierson's eyes lit up. "How was it dressed?"

"I don't know, I didn't see it," I said. "Why?"

"Mr. Jones," said Dr. Pierson, "Would you believe me if I said that man had come from... another planet?"

"I'll believe whatever you want," I said. "Question is, will Safe Driver Insurance believe it?"

"If we can find the evidence we need, the whole world will soon believe," said Dr. Pierson.

"Just what kind of evidence do you need?"

The professor pulled an old, leather-bound book from his case and handed it to me. "Have you ever heard of this book?"

I opened the cover to the title page: _Lt. Gullivar Jones: His Vacation_. "I'm afraid not."

"This book appeared over one hundred years ago," he said. "It's been published since under the title _Gullivar of Mars_."

"Any relation to John Carter of Mars?" asked Marty.

"More than you realize!" said Dr. Pierson, getting even more worked up.

"Well go on," I said.

"Son," said the professor, "What if I were to tell you that these books were not science fiction. These books were real accounts of real events, told by men who, by some strange means unexplainable by our primitive science, had traveled through time to Mars!"

"You're joking, right?" I said. We'd all read Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars stories, the tales of a Civil War soldier who astral projected to the planet Mars and became a conquering hero. It was classic early 20th century science fiction, mostly forgotten in the wake of _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_.

And now, some crazy professor from the local college wanted us to believe it was real.

"Gentlemen," said Dr. Pierson. "When these books first appeared, they had no choice but to sell them as works of fiction. If people knew for a fact that monsters lived on the red planet, there would be panic!"

"So you believe they are real," I said. "John Carter was real."

"Very real," said Dr. Pierson. "I've done the research, and I have conclusive proof that Edgar Rice Burroughs was, in fact, related to a Civil War soldier named John Carter."

"Even if that part is true," said Marty. "John Carter went to a living, thriving planet. We've been to Mars, and it's dead."

"Mars of the present time is dead," injected Dr. Pierson.

"So not only did John Carter travel in space, but time?" I asked.

"Precisely," said Dr. Pierson. "Somehow, in the process of astral projection, John Carter was able to travel to the time when Mars was inhabited. Could be the past, could be the future. The books offer us no real clues."

"And this Gullivar Jones," said Marty. "Did he travel the same way?"

"No," said Dr. Pierson. "According to the book, Gullivar Jones found a man lying in the streets, dead, just as you found on your car. His body was wrapped in a rug bearing a map of the stars and planets.

An icy chill ran down my spine. "A rug?"

Dr. Pierson's eyes lit up when he saw mine. "You found it, didn't you?"

"Found what?" said Marty?

Reluctantly, I walked over to the box of my charred belongings. I pulled the rug out of the box and spread it out on the floor.

It was beautiful.

The color was a deep, dark blue that looked as if you could reach through it into infinity. Upon the blue canvas were white markings that looked like stars, planets, and other heavenly bodies. It was almost as if it were a map to some distant destination.

I was pretty sure I was dreaming at this point, but a pinch on the arm told me it was pretty real. Dr. Pierson leaned over the rug, gazing in astonished wonder.

"My boy, do you know what this is?" he said.

"A magic carpet?" I guessed.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," said Dr. Pierson.

"You can't be serious!" said Marty. "Magic carpets are fairy tales, not science fiction."

"Indeed," said Dr. Pierson. "Yet there is truth even in fairy tales that gets lost in the ages. Perhaps the tales of Aladdin have some connection to the tale of Gullivar Jones."

"Or perhaps this is some elaborate prank on a TV reality series," I said. "It would fit, the way my life is going."

"I assure you, this is for real!" said Dr. Pierson. "I've dedicated my whole life to this study. This rug is a ticket to Mars."

I stepped on the rug. "Looks like an ordinary rug to me."

"Mr. Jones, please, be careful. There's no knowing what that rug can do."

"You mean if I say the magic words, it's going to carry me to Mars?"

No sooner did I speak the words, the rug was off the floor, I was on top of the rug on my back, and headed out the window of my 3rd story loft, straight into the sky.

The rug wrapped tightly around me like a burrito. Turning my head upward, I could see the heavens coming toward me at a very fast rate.

Miles from home, scared to death, I did the only thing I could: I blacked out.

# CHAPTER THREE

All my life, I had wondered what it would be like to travel through space. I imagined stars turning into lines all around me, or swirling tunnels of light, or any one of a number of cool imaged like you see in the movies. I wish I could tell you what it looked and felt like, but as I mentioned earlier, I pretty much blacked out before I even hit outer space. I can't even begin to tell you how long it takes to get from Earth to Mars. What I can tell you, in great detail, is what happened when I arrived, crash landing on a large, wooden wagon being hauled through the Martian desert by slave traders.

I remember hearing the crash of timbers around me, and feeling a few bumps through the thick carpet. I could hear some grunting and growling, and then I felt some rough hands lift the carpet into the air. The carpet came loose, and I tumbled down onto the wooden wreckage.

Mind you, I had no concept of where I was or how I got there in that moment. It felt like a dream, and it looked like some post-apocalyptic movie. The wagon was of a crude design, fashioned by simple tools, large enough to carry a good number of people. At the front of the wagon was a large beast of some kind with eight powerful legs. It had short, off-white colored fur and a long snout on the front of what I guessed was his head.

And then, there were the slave traders.

Not that I knew what line of work these fine, furry gentlemen were in just by looking at them. All I could see was an angry gaggle of big, hairy men, with long, hairy beards and bad attitudes. Their bodies were covered with leather accented by a rusted armor of some kind. They all held spears, and the expression on their faces told me they were a little ticked off at my dropping in.

I felt the jab of a spear in my rear end and spun around to face the bearded guy closest to me. "Whoa, hold it there, fella."

The hairy man screamed at me, his rancid breath and spittle spraying my face. He swung his huge spear at my head, just missing the brim of my beloved Cleveland Indians hat. Desperate to get out of this alive, I flashed back to my public speaking class in high school, trying to remember the tips for giving a good persuasive speech, hoping it would be enough to persuade them not to kill me.

"Okay, okay, Mr. Scary Face. Give me just a moment to wet myself, and I'll do whatever you want."

Scary Face stepped back, motioning me to step off the wagon. I tiptoed down to the red sand. Immediately, another Grizzly Adams stepped in to grab my arm.

"Hey! Not so--"

I whipped my arm back, trying to shake him loose – and sent him flying about twenty feet through the air.

"Okay, not sure how that happened," I said. The man seemed light as a feather, despite his bulk. I could hear him howling in pain from the crater he had made in the sand. It was a total accident, but the growling and snarling told me that the incident had made his buddies even angrier.

Scary Face made the first move, charging at me with his spear. Brave warrior that I am, I ran, tripping in the sand and sliding about ten feet. Scary Face didn't have time to react to my new direction, and he kept charging, impaling two of his fellow Scary Faces with one spear.

I leapt to my feet, prepared to run some more. Another Scary Face grabbed me from behind. I whipped around, causing the man to spin off his feet and off my back. He landed head first on a broken timber, impaling himself on the shattered remains of the wagon.

I tried again to run away but was cut off by another Scary Face, this one with a sword. I jumped to the side – flying about ten feet myself – just as he brought the sword down, slicing another of his hairy pals in half.

I started to run again, but the hairy slave traders were quick to catch up – and shoot right past me, howling in fear. No longer angry, they were frightened, running for their lives. I was a little taken aback, but relieved to see them running away like frightened bunnies. After all, they were the scary, big men with swords and spears, and I was just a gamer from Indiana. Yet they were running from me.

I took a moment to catch my breath, thinking that this had to be the strangest dream I had ever had. Then, things became even stranger.

I heard a noise behind me, and turned to see a beautiful woman in a white robe crawl out of the wreckage. Her hair was raven black and fell almost to her waistline. She was thin, with long, slender fingers and a ruddy complexion that looked amazing against the whiteness of her robes. She had suffered some bumps and bruises, no doubt at the hands of the fiends whom I had just scared off. But even these few blemishes could not hide one, inescapable fact: she was hot!!

"Yuba zune dak kuum yek?" she said. I don't know if those were her exact words or not. All I know is it sounded lovely coming off her tongue and completely incoherent.

I replied as politely as I could. "Lady, I'm not getting a word you've said."

She babbled on a while more, while searching the wagon. I couldn't tell what she was looking for, so I contented myself to just stand back and watch. When she started to unhook the beast on the front of the wagon, I ran over to the other side and helped as best as I could. It took some pulling and twisting, but we finally freed the critter, and it purred with gratitude.

The girl then found a vial in the shattered remains of the wagon. She opened it, and smiling, offered me a drink. I took the vial from her hands with a "Thank you," and took a sip. It tasted a bit like Dr. Pepper, except without the carbonation.

And then, all of a sudden, the world went – black.

I awoke on the back of the huge beast of burden, lying across its hindquarters on my stomach. By some miracle I managed not to fall off the creature as I came to and tried to get my bearings. I was quite surprised to still be in this strange land, having convinced myself it all had to be a dream. That said I was very pleased to discover that my hot little Martian lady was still by my side.

"Boodek so freen ya hoo loo bonk?" Again, I couldn't understand her, but I was rapidly falling on love with her particular brand of baby talk.

"Sorry, lady, I only speak English."

The girl shushed me as she placed her hands on either side of my temples. She closed her eyes. I felt a mild current of electricity surge through my head. It lasted just a few seconds before my Martian gal opened her eyes and said:

"There. Is that better?"

"You speak English now?"

"No," she said. "You hear English."

"How does that work?" I said.

"You hear what you need to hear, and I hear what I need to hear. So long as we both understand, why ask how?"

"Indeed." Suddenly, I realized I was missing something. "Where's my rug?"

She patted the rolled up rug in front of her. "It is here, with us."

"And where are we, may I ask?"

"On the back of a kerrgun."

I glanced down at the mighty, eight-legged beast. "This is a kerrgun?"

"Yes," she said.

"Okay," I said back.

"Have you ever ridden on a kerrgun?"

"I gotta be honest," I told her, "I've never even seen a kerrgun." The ride was remarkably smooth for such a huge beast, but the smell left something to be desired. "So what's your name?"

"I am called Mel," she informed me.

"Nice to meet you, Mel," I said. "I'm Stewart." Mel said nothing in return. "Any chance you can tell me where we're headed?"

"You ask many questions," she told me.

"Well, I'm kind of in the dark as to where I am and what's going on. You couldn't help a guy out, could you?"

"No, I would rather not," she said. "Please, have some more wine."

She offered me the vial of liquid that had just caused my second blackout of the day. "Oh no, I don't know what's in that drink, but I am not touching that again."

"Then what will you drink?"

"What I always drink," I said. "Mountain Dew."

"How strange," she said. "Why would a Mountain Man fight against other Mountain Men?"

"Mountain Man?" I said. "You mean those gorillas we were fighting?"

"I do not know what a gorilla is," she said. "Those were slave traders from the mountains. Is that where you are from as well?"

"No, not me," I said. "We don't have mountains in Indiana."

"In where?" she asked.

"Indiana," I said. "As in the USA? Basketball capital of the world?"

"Basketball?" she said.

"Planet Earth?"

Mel began to giggle. "You cannot be from Earth."

"Why not?" I said.

"Earth has been dead for many centuries," she said. "Nothing but rocks and ice."

"Really?"

"Of course," she said. "All the worlds in our solar system are dead, except ours."

"Then where am I?" I asked.

"You are in Barris," she said.

"Barris?" I replied. "I never heard of a planet called Barris."

Mel giggled at me again. "Barris is not a planet. It is a city, the greatest city on the fourth planet."

The kerrgun brought us over a ridge. Down below, I saw a gleaming white city. I half-expected something space age and futuristic, with flying cars and gleaming space needles, but the city before us looked more like ancient Rome in its glory days.

A clear, blue canal cut through the center of the city, lined on either side by white steps that appeared to be cut from marble. The canal stretched out in two directions from the city, extending off beyond the horizon. Marble buildings, white as your teeth after a visit to the dentist, spread in all directions, held up by massive columns and the occasional statue.

The centerpiece of the city was a giant white palace that sat upon towering steps. Huge marble columns lined the front, anchored on one side by a tall marble tower; the remnants of a second tower lie fallen to the side. Even so, it was a majestic sight.

People were everywhere, moving through the streets, lounging by the canal, even flitting about on flying carpets. It was all coming full circle.

"Did you say we're on the fourth planet?" I said.

"Yes," she said. "We are on Barsoom."

I shuddered. It had been a long time since I had read any John Carter books, but I knew the word "Barsoom."

"Holy crap. I'm on Mars."

# CHAPTER FOUR

Like so many things in life, my first glimpses of Martian society were, after a lifetime of speculation, disappointing. The people were not green. They had two arms, two legs, one head, and no antennae. Like Mel, they were all pretty much human. And what's more, there was nothing advanced or sophisticated about them. In fact, the vast majority of the people I saw as we entered Barris looked to be napping, drunk, or napping in a drunken stupor.

Mel and I left the kerrgun on the outskirts and walked into town. I slung the carpet over my back with a couple of ropes, and we walked into town. I was surprised that no one seemed to pay any mind to the stranger from a strange land in strange clothes. Call it ugly American syndrome, but I thought people would be all agog to see a man from another world. But most of them were too busy slacking off to pay any attention to me.

"Is something the matter?" Mel asked.

"No," I said. "I mean, it's not what I expected."

"I thought you had never heard of Barris," she said.

"I meant Mars, Barsoom. Your planet as a whole."

"What did you expect?" she asked.

"Well, for starters, I didn't expect you all to look like you do. On my planet, we always thought of Martians as green."

"Green?"

"Green-skinned, and a little angry," I added. "Most times people told stories of Martians, they talked about invading armies and death rays laying waste to our planet."

"How silly," she said. "Why would anyone want to conquer that frozen rock?"

"Hey, it wasn't bad in its day," I said, wondering if Earth might not be in its prehistoric, ice age state rather than a cold, distant future.

"We don't like war," said Mel. "Not like the Mountain Men anyway. War takes up too much energy."

"Yeah." I looked around at the, ahem, energetic populace. "You people certainly don't waste a lot of energy."

"Why should we?" said Mel. "We have all we need. Why work when we can kick back and enjoy?"

I nodded in agreement. "I'll drink to that." No sooner did I say it, she had that vial of knock-out-juice to my lips. "Hey, none of that!"

"But you said--"

"I didn't mean it literally," I said. "It's just an old Earth expression."

"Then you do not wish to drink, even though you say you do?"

"No," I said. "I'll tell you what, though. I could go for some food." I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but there was a definite aroma of food in the air. I glanced around at the staggering Martians, looking for some sign of what was cooking.

"You must be starved after such a journey," said Mel. "Come, let us find a good meal."

We turned down a side street headed away from the canal. It looked like a market, smelled like a market, but the usual hustle and bustle you see at the county fair or the flea market was just not there. No scary barkers publicizing their wares, no bartering, no hard sell. No selling at all. In fact, most of the booths had no one behind them. The few shopkeepers who were on duty were half conscious or asleep, like everyone else in this town. Reminded me of the convenience store on Christmas Eve.

Mel walked up to a table where a man in a white toga was stacking a round blue fruit. It looked kind of like an orange, and had a skin like an orange, but as I said, it was blue, a pale blue with a blue-greenish tint near the top. Mel grabbed two, tossed one to me, and began to peel hers.

"Are these fresh?" she asked the man in the toga.

"Why yes," he said. "Fresh from the orchards of our prince this morning, may he rule in peace always."

"What is it?" I asked.

"It's a blue," said Mel. A blue fruit called a blue. Once again, the disappointment was a bit overwhelming. I peeled my blue dutifully but then paused.

"Will any of this stuff mess with my head like that wine?"

"Oh yes," said Mel. "You'll love it."

I tossed the blue back on the table and picked up something resembling a cross between an apple and a banana. "How about this one?"

"No, that one's not fermented."

"Good." I took a bite. It tasted a bit like a pear, if you drowned that pear in honey. Not bad. I was about to ask the vendor how much we owed his when I saw Mel walking casually back toward the canal.

"Hey!" I said, grabbing her by the shoulder. "You forgot to pay for that."

"Pay?" she said. "What is that?"

"You know," I said. "Where you give him money?"

She stared at me, blankly.

"You give him something valuable in return for the fruit we took?"

"If we had anything he needed, he would have taken it," she said.

"You mean you guys don't have money either?"

"What is money?"

It was more or less at this point I decided I really, really liked Mars. It was the perfect place. No money, no jobs, just lying around doing nothing. I hadn't seen a video arcade as yet, but I knew if they had one, I would never, ever leave this city, ever.

Then some mad man in a toga swiped my hat.

"Hey!" I screamed at the guy, who turned to gaze at me blankly. I took the hat back off his head and put it on mine. Mel sauntered over to us.

"Why did you do that?" she said. "He wants to wear the hat."

"Tell him to get his own!"

"He did," said Mel. "He took yours."

"Haven't you people heard the concept of personal property?"

I could tell by the blank stare on Mel's face that no, they did not believe in personal property.

"You really take whatever you want, whenever you want?"

"Yes," said Mel. "Why is that strange to you?"

"On my planet, that'll get you sued."

"What is sued?" said Mel.

"Does anyone around here own anything, for keeps?"

"What do you mean?"

I groaned in frustration. It was like trying to reason with my four year-old niece. "Okay," I said. "So let's say I wanted to take a boat ride. We just walk down to the canal, pick one, and go?"

"Of course," she said. "How else would you get a boat?"

"But what if the guy who owns that boat comes back and needs it?"

"He will take another," said Mel.

"Really?" I glanced around and spotted a guy eating what looked like an amazing, smoked leg of... well, this was Mars, so who knows what it was. The point is, I was hungry and it looked good. I pointed to the man with the leg of Martian mystery meat. "So if I'm still hungry, I can go over and take that guy's food."

Mel nodded. "If that is your desire."

"And he won't be mad at me?"

"Anger takes too much energy," she told me. "We do not waste energy on such things here."

I didn't know if this was a put on or not, but I was hungry, so I walked over to the man with the man with the leg.

I smiled.

He smiled.

I reached for his food.

He did nothing.

I took the leg away from him.

He kept on smiling.

I looked over at Mel, who looked at me as if this were perfectly normal behavior. Neither Mel nor my generous food sharing buddy had ever had been to a Thanksgiving meal like the one I attended every year at my grandmother's. Grab the turkey leg, even if it's still on the platter, and my cousin Reggie will beat your face until it looks like cranberry sauce.

Satisfied that this nice man in a toga was not the violent type like my cousin Reggie, I took my first big bite of Martian mystery meat – and promptly regretted it. If you ever had those soy burger patties they serve in our school cafeterias these days, you have an idea exactly what this tasted like – with just a hint of onion and asparagus. I returned the leg to the nice gentleman with a "Thank you," and walked back to my guide.

"That wasn't what I thought it was."

"You seem troubled," said Mel. "Is this not the way people behave where you come from?"

"Are you kidding?" I said. "You step on someone's lawn on my planet and they'll shoot at you. People are very possessive."

"About food?"

"About everything! Food, cars, money, clothes, electronics, girlfriends."

"Then how do you get the things you need?" asked Mel.

"You get a job, get paid, and go out and buy it," I said. "A guy steals your hat on Earth, you can have them thrown in jail."

"Then you disapprove of our ways?"

I had to think about that question. I looked around at the beautiful people lounging by the canal. I saw men laughing together. Beautiful women were bathing in the sun. People everywhere were drinking, eating, or just sleeping. No one seemed stressed. No one acted like they had a care in the world. If there were videos games and TV around this would be a slacker's paradise.

"Honestly, I kind of like your ways," I told Mel.

Mel and I found a quiet spot by the canal on one of the wide, marble steps leading down to the water. I set the carpet down, still rolled up, and laid my head down on top of it, hoping to discourage anyone who might want to "borrow" it. Mel laid down very close beside me. She took a few sips from the vial and laid her head on my shoulder as the potent liquor took effect. Her hair smelled intoxicating, something like fresh baked gingerbread.

"I can't believe this is life on Mars," I said.

"This is how it has been for generations," Mel purred.

"No work? No money? Sleep all day and party all night?"

"Oh no," she said. "We sleep all night too."

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to relax. The stress and worry of the last several days melted away as I enjoyed the scent and the feel of the Martian woman leaning on me. I was sure there were things that would make me home sick, but all things considered, I was happy to be on Mars.

# CHAPTER FIVE

There's a reason guys like me stay inside as much as we do: we burn. We burn badly. I came back from a spring break beach trip in the fourth grade and became Lobster Boy. That moniker lasted until middle school, when some less appealing nicknames took its place. (Thank you, unidentified kid who put the fish sticks in my locker during seventh grade gym class.)

The Martian sun is much different than the one I was used to on Earth. I don't know how long Mel and I were in the sun that day by the canal, but I didn't burn in the slightest. The sun has a more reddish tint to it, thanks (I guess?) to the Martian atmosphere, but it's surprisingly gentle on fair-skinned boys like me. Matter of fact, before I left the red planet, I had developed a nice tan for the first time in my life.

I awoke from a very peaceful nap and saw people riding boats along the canal. A few paddled or pushed their way through the waters, but most were contented to drift lazily along. I started to wonder just how difficult it would be to find an empty boat, just to see where the waters would take me. The impulse died when I heard a loud crack and horrific crash directly behind me.

I jumped to my feet, causing poor Mel's head to bounce off the marble steps. White dust hit me in the face, clogging my sinuses and burning my eyes. After a minute of hacking, I was finally able to make out the source of the noise: a small building of marble, not twenty feet away, had collapsed to the ground.

"What happened?" I shouted to Mel, who regarded the wreck with indifference. "Did that building just collapse?"

She shrugged. "It happens some times."

"It happens?" I looked around and was startled to see not a single Martian even looking at the rubble heap. They continued on with their naps, their meals, and their strolls as if nothing out of the ordinary or tragic had just occurred.

Before I could ask if anyone was inside, I heard a voice cry out from the rubble, a woman's voice begging for help. Again I looked, and not a single person paid any attention to it.

"Someone's inside!" I shouted, hoping for a response. "Don't you hear them?"

A few people turned to me with annoyance in their eyes. I looked down at Mel. "Is anyone going to help her?"

"Why would we do that?" asked Mel.

"Because it's the right thing to do?" I said, incredulously.

Mel shrugged again. "It was not my dwelling."

"But there are people trapped!" I raced over to the building, looking at the huge chunks of rubble. I turned to the crowd. "Can somebody help me? Please?"

No one bothered.

The stones looked impossibly heavy, but the first one I tried moved with great ease. I started pushing the marble chunks off the top of the pile, one at a time. The voice grew louder and louder until finally, I was able to see the frightened young woman inside. She had radiant, curly red hair and several bad cuts on her face, but she seemed to be all right. I grabbed her hand and pulled her to safety.

Immediately, the woman stopped crying. She dusted herself off, and walked down to the edge of the canal. She swiped a bottle of that ol' Martian brew and drank herself into a state of oblivion.

"Huh," I said, annoyed that my heroic actions didn't even warrant a thank you. I looked back into the hole and saw another person, a man, pinned below. I pushed a few more blocks of stone aside, hoping to free him. I soon saw it was no use. The marble had gashed his head and snapped his neck. It was a gruesome way to go.

"There's one more," I announced. "He's dead."

I was more than surprised to see this announcement provoked a real response from the lackadaisical crowd. Several men moved as one, without a word, to extract the man from the rubble.

I walked down the steps to Mel and sat down.

"What's the matter with you people?" I asked. "No one bothers to help a woman in distress, but everyone comes to the aid of a dead body?"

"It is time for him to begin his final journey," said Mel. "And he cannot get there on his own."

"So we help the dead, but not the living?"

"It is not the living who need help," said Mel.

"Huh," I watched as the men carry the dead body down to the canal, where two women had secured a waiting raft. The man was set gently upon the raft and set adrift. It was over and done in a matter of minutes. Then everyone went back to the business of doing nothing.

"Where is he going?" I asked. `

"He must ride the canal to the river of the dead."

"And where does that lead?"

"To the heart of the world."

I nodded. "Okay, I can buy that. But that still doesn't explain why no one lifted a finger to help that poor woman."

"We prefer to let things be as they may. Let life take its course," she said.

"But she could have died!"

"Everyone dies," she said stoically.

"And if she died, you would have put her on a raft too."

"Of course. She cannot get on a raft on her own when her time comes."

I was growing frustrated. I wanted her to see my point, to make it real to her how foolish this was. "What about when I saved you? Would any of these people, beside me, tried to rescue you?"

"Why would they?" she said. "They did not stir when the men came and took me."

"You mean they saw those hairy beasts abduct you?"

"Yes," said Mel. "We always see them coming."

I didn't know what to say to this bit of news. I looked over at the woman I had rescued from the wreckage. There was no grief in her face, no sadness. She drank like those around her, as if nothing had happened.

"She doesn't seem too upset," I said.

Mel looked over at the red head. "Why would she be? It was only her husband."

"Only her husband? On Earth, that's a pretty big deal."

Mel shrugged again. "It doesn't matter. In two days time, she will have another."

"That fast, huh? You Martians rebound quick." Considering how long I pined over Felicia without getting over it, I was a little jealous.

"In two days all of Barris will take new spouses," she said.

"Everyone?"

Mel nodded. "It is our Wedding Day. Do you not know what a wedding is?"

"Sure I do," I said, "but I am very curious to know what you mean by a wedding day."

"On Wedding Day, everyone attends a banquet in one of the great halls. There, every man will draw lots and receive a new spouse. Then they will be married."

"For how long?"

"A year."

"A year?!?" I accidentally woke a large man sleeping beside me. After apologizing, I went on. "You guys only marry for a year?"

"That is correct," said Mel.

"And then you choose another?"

"Another is chosen for us," she said. "Is that not the custom your people keep?"

"Well, that depends who you talk to," I told her. "Some people are lucky to make it a year. But the general idea is we marry for life. Til death do they part."

"You marry for life?" Mel seemed as puzzled as I was.

"That's how we define it," I said. "At least, that's how it used to be. It's still in the vows anyway."

"But why?"

"Well," I had to think about it for a moment. "Love. That's why. People fall in love with each other, and they decide they want to pair up, have kids, and grow old together."

"That seems rather a poor way of doing it," said Mel. "What if someone does not choose to love?"

"Well, then they don't get married."

"What's to keep people from stopping love?"

"Well, nothing," I admitted. "It happens a whole lot too."

"I think it is a dreadful idea," she said.

"I could say the same about your way," I said. "No flirting, no dating? Not that I do a lot of either, but come on. That's half the fun."

"You are a bizarre person, Stewart of Earth."

"It's all in the eye of the beholder, Mel of Mars."

For a second, I thought there might be a spark. You know, that romantic spark, when two people connect. Not that I was over Felicia, but I wanted this woman to know what love was and why we Earth people – some of us, anyway – valued it so much. But just when I thought she was coming around, she took a big swig from her vial of wine and was out like a light.

"Great."

I reached over grab my rug so I could give her a pillow, a second too late. Much to my chagrin, some toga-wearing Martian grabbed it, heading down the canal like he hadn't just five-fingered my only ticket home.

"Hey, you!" I shouted. "That's my rug!"

I started after him when a horn blast echoed down the canal way. The steps suddenly became very crowded, and I lost sight of the rug thief in the mob.

The horn sounded again. I looked down the canal, away from the heart of the city, and saw a large boat drifting lazily down the water. The boat was white, with a flat deck and no railing. Near the back, I saw two rows of chairs, all adorned in gold. Two elderly-looking men sat half asleep in the higher rows of chairs near the back. Below and in front of them sat a young man in a toga with a circle of gold around his head, flanked on either side by gorgeous women in togas and gold jewels.

I nudged a woman beside me. "Who is it?"

"That," she said. "Is our prince."

The boat was almost to me now. People continued to press in, wanting a closer look. I managed to hold my ground, hoping to get a better look.

And that's when I saw her.

She was lying on the front part of the boat, on her stomach, her face turned towards my side of the canal. She was either asleep or passed out drunk. It was hard to say. She, too, wore a circle of gold around her head. Her skin was perfect, her face serene and enchanting. I didn't know who she was, but I knew it was love.

Granted, she was on a boat and I was stuck in a crowd on the canal way, so I had no real shot at meeting her. But fate intervened when the raft holding the dead guy from the crumbled house clipped the bigger boat. The large craft rocked just enough to tip sleeping beauty over, causing her to tumble into the waters.

A murmur of concern arose in the crowd. Not a big one mind you; nothing seemed to get these people excited whatsoever. But I sensed a definite change from total disregard to semi-consciousness. For his part, the prince actually stood up, yawning, as he checked the spot where the woman had lain only moments before.

The woman bobbed on the surface near the back of the boat, unmoving, her face down in the water. She would drown pretty quickly if no one did anything to help her.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Is someone going to save that girl?" I should have known I was wasting my breath, but I was new, and not fully used to the Martian way of letting things happen as they happen. I pushed my way down to the water and jumped in.

Now I have to tell you, I was never the best swimmer, and nearly drowned myself and a lifeguard when I ended up in the deep part of the community pool as a ten year old. That said, the rescue was much easier than I anticipated because the water was only about chest high. I shook off my surprise and waded over to the woman, lifting her face from the water.

Immediately, she began to kick and flail her arms. "Help me! Help me, please!"

"Relax," I tried to tell her.

She elbowed me hard in the face in her struggle for survival. (Where was that passion for life two minutes ago?) I held her tight and spoke to her calmly. "Put your feet down. Just put your feet down."

Finally, she heard me. She let me guide her feet to the bottom, where they touched. I put my arm around her and guided her back to the boat.

With no help at all from the prince and his entourage, I lifted the girl back on the deck. Then, not wanting to let the girl go, I climbed aboard myself.

The woman was still gasping for air as I checked on her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "You saved me. Why?"

"I dunno," I said. "Seemed like the right thing to do."

"You could have died," she said.

I looked back at the shallow waters. "Believe me, it wasn't that hard."

The prince stood over me, a pleasant smile on his face. "You have saved the life of our princess!"

"Princess?" I said, my voice cracking like a sixth grader. "This is your princess, and nobody bothers to save her?"

"Only you, brave one," said the prince. "For that, we are in your debt."

"You don't have money, but you know what debt is?"

"You are a stranger, are you not?" said the prince.

"That's right," I said. "The jeans are a dead give away, huh?"

"I am Prince Orrin of Barris. And this is my sister, Dayla."

Dayla smiled at me, the kind of smile that can stop a man's heart. "A pleasure, my lady."

"By what name are you called, handsome stranger?" she asked.

"Stewart," I said. "Stewart John Jones from Indiana."

Orrin lifted my hand up, turning to the crowd. "People of Barris, I give you the hero that saved your Princess, Stewart Stewart John Jones from Indiana!"

The people gave me the kind of ovation usually reserved for a bogie putt at Augusta. Directly across from me, I saw someone had fished my baseball had out of the canal and was now wearing it. I guess he needed a hat, right?

"Please," said Orrin, "Ride with us to the palace. We would be honored to make you our guest.

"Hey, I'd love to, but somebody made off with my magic rug, and I really need to find them and be—"

The princess cut me off, her eyes penetrating my soul. "Please, do not refuse. Let me thank you properly for saving me from the waters."

She offered me her cup. I blushed, and took it from her.

"Well how often does a guy get invited to the royal palace of Mars, right? Cheers!"

I took a long swallow from the princess's cup – and once again, the world faded to black.

# CHAPTER SIX

For the second time, I opened my eyes, expecting to be back in my dingy apartment, surrounded by the familiar scent of left over pizza and spilled Mountain Dew, accented by the scent of authentic Mexican food from the restaurant across the street. Instead I found myself in a place that was entirely different and so much nicer than my home sweet home. For one thing the bed was a lot softer – and bigger! Not just wide, but tall. The pillows were the softest I had ever felt, and the whole room was white. A gentle breeze blew through the gauzy curtains over two huge windows. Surreal as it seemed, I really thought – and hoped – it was all still a dream.

Then Princess Dayla walked in the door. I stopped hoping I would wake up and began praying that this was for real.

"How does my champion sleep?" she asked.

"Whether I'm dreaming or awake, I'd say very well," I told her.

"You must have been exhausted. Did you know you slept through an entire day and night?"

"Really?" I thought back to how the dream began – with a sip of that old Martian brew. "That's some strong stuff you serve here."

"I am sure your journey here was a part of that exhaustion," she said. "After all, we are a great distance from the third planet, Stewart Stewart John Jones."

"Now how did you hear about that?" I asked.

"The woman you saved from the Mountain Men has told us everything," said Dayla. She opened the door, and Mel walked in.

"Greetings again, Stewart Stewart John Jones," Mel gave a little bow.

"Hey," I said, before adding, "You can just call me Stewart."

"It gives me joy to see you awake," said Mel. "I have told the entire palace of the great deed you did for me. The people of Barris are curious to know more about the brave warrior from another world."

"Well," I said, with false modesty, "I'm a cancer with a bad moon rising, I enjoy long walks on the beach and anything written by Alan Moore, Philip K. Dick, or Joss Whedon."

The girls stared at me blankly.

"Which means absolutely nothing here," I said.

Dayla clapped her hands together and called out: "Hextar, Briggin, enter!"

A side door opened, and two of the biggest, most ripped guys I have ever seen in my life entered. Both men were blonde, naked to the waist, and wore a short, knee-length white wrap around their waists.

"What is your will, majesty?" said one of the beefcakes.

"This is my savior, Stewart Stewart John Jones of Indiana," Dayla proclaimed. She turned to me. "These are my brother's personal servants. They will assist you in bathing and dressing."

Oh no. "What was that?"

"We will assist you with your every need," said the first beefcake.

"It is our duty, and our pleasure."

The fellas started to close in on me. I almost leapt out of bed, but common sense got the best of me in an instant when I realized I had no clothes on.

"You know, princess, this isn't necessary," I said.

"We want you to know how much we appreciate what you have done," said Dayla. "My brother has commanded you be treated as a royal. They will see that you need not lift a finger."

The boys were almost on top of me now. "That's fine, really, but if it's okay, I'll just dress myself."

"Why would you do that?" said Dayla.

"Do not worry," said beefcake number two. "We are experts in grooming the male form."

"I'm sure you are," I said, "But self-grooming is just one of those quirky Earth habits of mine. I like to put on my own clothes. And not be touched by big, buff guys."

The beefcakes looked over at Dayla.

"Very well," she said. "We will stand and watch."

I looked at Mel. She smiled. I looked at the beefcakes. They smiled. I looked at the table nearby, where my shoes, my jeans, my socks, my shirt, and my boxers lay neatly stacked.

I turned to the princess. "I don't supposed you'd all step outside just a moment, would you?"

Dayla signaled the boys, who groaned in disappointment. They left the way they came.

"Take your time," said the princess. "My brother waits to take you on a tour of our kingdom."

"Sounds great," I said. I waited for Dayla and Mel to exit before I climbed out of bed. For a fleeting moment, I wondered who it was that undressed me. I decided I liked not knowing, and quickly dressed myself in that old Earth way.

A few moments later, I walked out of the room, where Hextar and Briggin were waiting. After learning how to tell them apart (Hextar was the smart one), I allowed them to take me down to the dining hall, where an elaborate buffet awaited. There was a huge spread of food, mainly fruits and vegetables, most of them raw. Surprisingly few items were actually prepared in any way. Most of the food was straight of the vine/tree/whatever and onto the table. They allowed me to sample a few, and I finally found a melon-like fruit that tasted vaguely like strawberries on the inside. I ate my fill, waiting for Prince Orrin to come take me on my tour.

The prince finally arrived, drifting into the dining room on a magic carpet. He lowered the rug to the floor beside me.

"Say," I said, "I used to have one of those."

The prince nodded. "They are very useful. Did you travel with these on Earth?"

"No, can't say that we did," I told him. "But that is how I came to be on your planet."

The prince smiled. "How do you enjoy our food?"

"It's not bad," I said. "Could use a little more fire under some of it."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you ever cook anything?" I asked.

"Why should we? Barsoom has blessed us with such a rich bounty of delicious offerings ready to consume in their natural form."

"Plus, cooking means work, right, Hoss?"

The prince said nothing.

"Look, I got no room to talk. I haven't cooked a thing that didn't go in a microwave in my life," I said. "Not that I expect you know what a microwave is."

"Would you like to see the city, Stewart Stewart John Jones?"

I stood up and walked to the carpet. "You know, you can just call me Stewart."

"That will not offend you?" he asked.

"No way," I said. "It's what I'm used to."

"What a relief. It is a beastly waste of breath to say your full name."

The lazy routine was starting to annoy me. "Glad to be of help, o prince."

Orrin directed me to sit down. Once I was aboard he leaned forward as if to speak directly to the carpet.

"Barris, please."

The carpet rose off the ground. It was an odd sensation made no more comfortable by my previous excursion on a different carpet... one that had yet to resurface, I might add! The carpet moved smoothly toward the end of the hall and cut quickly out a large window over the porch on the front of the palace. Soon we were soaring high above the canal.

"So tell me, where did these magic carpets come from?" I said, once my stomach returned to its normal state.

"Our ancestors created them for us," said Orrin, with great pride. "Great men they were."

"How do they work?" I asked.

Orrin laughed. "Work? Who cares, as long as they do?"

I didn't find the question quite so amusing. "What happens if they break down?"

Orrin shrugged, not concerned in the least. "You crash."

The carpet took us down the canal way. From high above, it looked perfect, the way everything first appeared when I entered the city. Orrin took a deep breath and spoke.

"This is my city, Stewart. It's where I was born, my father was born, and my father before him. It is the inheritance my people enjoy."

"So you built this place?" I asked.

"Good heavens no! We haven't touched a stone in generations. Our ancestor, King Barris, built this city from the ground. We've left it just the way he intended."

I glanced over the edge, catching sight of the building that collapsed the day before. I wondered how many other buildings were in such disrepair.

"I don't mean to tell you your business," I said. "But do you guys ever bother with a little maintenance?"

"Maintenance?" he said. "Of what?"

"Your city," I said. "The buildings, the houses. Don't they need a little help now and then?"

"Nonsense. If maintenance were required, Barris, in his wisdom, would have instructed us on what was needed."

"Could be," I said. "Or maybe he intended you to figure some things out on your own."

"That is not the Barris we know," said Orrin. "We are children of privilege, Stewart. Barris was the gift of our forefathers, to be inherited forever and ever. We have no need to get our hands rough and dirty. We are not beastly creatures like the men of the mountains."

"Ah yes, the Mountain Men," I said.

Orrin sighed. "They are barbarians, who do not share our values. They believe in conquest, power, and possession."

"At least they have a work ethic," I said. "I mean you can't passively collect and abuse slaves, right?"

Orrin said nothing to this. So I went on. "You're not worried they might want to conquer and possess your little town here?"

"Not at all," said Orrin.

"You sure?"

"The Mountain King has given us his word," said Orrin. "He granted Barris to our ancestors and to us, in perpetuity."

"How long ago did he make that deal?"

"Many years ago," said Orrin, who clearly had no real idea how many. "Around the time they forced our people out of the mountains and forests where we used to dwell."

"Sounds like the deal my country's government offered the original inhabitants of our land," I said, letting my mouth run. "We promised them forever too. Then a few years later we kicked them out and formed the state of Oklahoma."

Orrin stared at me blankly, my United States History lesson lost on him.

"My point is," I tried again, "If Martian people are anything like Earth people, you should be concerned. Earth people are greedy, and one of these days, that Mountain King might decide he wants a river side retreat."

Orrin looked out to the mountains, looming in the distance. "The Mountain King is content with his lodgings. He considers us his subjects. He takes a tribute from us every Wedding Day. Tomorrow, he will make his demands, and we will comply. Back to the Palace."

The carpet angled back to the palace. I don't know if the tour was really done, but I could tell Orrin had had enough of me.

"What sort of tribute will he take?" I asked.

"The same as always," he said. "Some wine, crops, perhaps some treasure. And a bride of his choosing."

Now it made more sense. "So he comes into town every year and takes your hottest woman?"

"He takes whom he pleases," Orrin said.

I nodded. "So the Mountain King gets his choice, and everyone else draws lots? That hardly seems fair."

"Stewart Stewart John Jones," said Orrin, growing testy. "I do not know what customs you keep on your planet, but here we deem it rude to criticize the long-held beliefs and traditions of those we encounter."

"Look, it's a simple question."

"The Mountain King prefers to choose his own bride. That is all you need to know," said Orrin.

The carpet brought us back into the dining hall, still a mess of food piled here and there. A few servants were clearing space to bring in the prince's lunch. The carpet touched down, and Orrin motioned me away. I still had a few questions.

"What if he chooses another man's bride?" I asked.

"That man will draw another," was the answer I got.

"Suppose he doesn't want to give her up," I countered. "What if he puts up a fight?"

Orrin leered at me. "Only barbarians like the mountain people would fight for something so stupid."

"I never knew marriage was such a frivolous thing."

"If you're so curious to understand our customs, perhaps you would be good enough to attend my own wedding banquet and partake in our tradition first hand. See for yourself if yours or ours is the more civilized way."

I got a knot in my stomach, the kind I got in seventh grade the first time my mom saw me sit by a girl of my own accord. "You want me to get married?"

"No," said Orrin. "But my sister requested that you be added to the roster of husbands. As she is my equal in the law, I have no power to stop her. Will you accept?"

So, the princess wanted me to be offered up as husband material. I can't say that was an unpleasant prospect. My doubts about the Martian way of life were growing, and I was pretty sure I wouldn't want to give up such a babe after only a year. But hey, when on Mars...

"Let me think about it?"

"Of course." Orrin whispered directions to his carpet, then fluttered away. I set off to explore the palace, with visions of a royal wedding night filling my head.

# CHAPTER SEVEN

I used to love watching shows on the History Channel about ancient Rome, especially the ones where they used computer modeling to show you what it would have looked like during its prime. Walking around the palace of Barris, I began to get a real sense what Rome was like before the columns cracked and the barbarians torched the place. But I soon began to realize that even this city was well past its prime.

For every cool statue of a noble looking Martian standing on a pedestal, there were two or three that stood vacant. Hard to say if they were once occupied by Martian heroes as well, but it sure looked like something was missing. I didn't see a lot of gold or jewels either, though I was able to make out divots in the walls and columns where something pretty might once have sparkled in the Martian sun. There was still some majesty to the palace, and the rooms that were decked out with jewels – the dining hall and the throne room – were spectacular.

I walked around back and discovered that the rear of the palace looked very much like the front, without the long stairway down. Instead, the back was one long launching pad for what looked like hundreds of magic carpets. Each carpet had its own unique design or artwork, some in spectacular color. The founders of Barris had left some remarkable technology for their children. Too bad they neglected to establish any sort of education system.

On the Eastern side of the building I discovered the remains of a great mural on a wall that had to be thirty feet high. It was very hard to make out anything that was left, but there appeared to be a large, pyramid-like temple surrounded by trees. I had yet to see a single tree in my time on Mars, which made the painting all the more mysterious.

Out on the west veranda, I discovered another mural. This one was faded, but not nearly as bad as its opposite. The picture featured a man with a giant spear in his hands. He had very little clothing on, and no armor. He was face to face with a towering, frightening green monster that resembled a preying mantis with Mr. T's jewelry collection around its neck. High above, the creature held a raven-haired beauty in its arms.

Part of me wondered if this wasn't the great John Carter of Mars, locked in battle for the princess Dejah Thoris of Barsoom. Very unlikely that anyone around here would be able to confirm that. I doubted these people had much interest in their history. Sad that I, a stranger, from another planet, would know more about their world than the natives. I wondered what else I was missing in uncovering the secrets of Barris.

"Strange, isn't it?" I turned to see Princess Dayla, her eyes transfixed on the painting. "When I was just a girl, I would come here and stare at it for hours. None of the wise men, nor my father or grandfather could tell me who they were."

"I don't know that it means anything," I said. "But I can tell you what's going on."

"Please do."

I pointed to the green monster. "That beast up there stole that man's girlfriend," I said, indicating the green monster and the man with the spear. "And that fellow with the spear's gonna get her back or die trying."

Dayla looked horrified. "You mean he would risk dying to save that woman?"

I looked over at the princess. "Is that really so hard to understand?" She nodded. "You don't think a man would fight for his woman?"

"No man of Barris would take such a risk," said Dayla.

"Why not?"

"It is not our way."

"So you just let the green monster get away with kidnapping?"

"The Underworlders take what they need, then go," said Dayla, nodding to the monster. "Why would anyone resist them?"

I shook my head. "You really don't know, do you?"

She looked at me, her dark eyes full of wonder.

"He loves her," I said.

"What?"

"That's right," I said. "You all don't understand love."

"Can you explain it to me?"

I shrugged. "People on my planet have been asking that question for centuries. So far as I know, there is no explaining love."

"None at all?"

"Not a bit," I said. "There's no rhyme or reason to how we love, or who we love, or even why we love. We just do. And if a man loves a woman, he'll do anything for her. Even if that means fighting a whatever you call it."

"Underworlder," she added.

"Exactly."

"Why would he fight to save this one?" asked Dayla. "Won't he receive a new bride on wedding day"

"Maybe they didn't have wedding day back then," I said. "Maybe they did, but they did it the way we Earthlings do. We have one – ideally – and only one wedding to one person."

"Only one?"

"Only one," I told her. "One that we choose."

"For love?"

"Absolutely," I tell her.

"I see," said Dayla. "Do men of your planet have to fight giant monsters to win the one they love?"

I looked up at the green Underworlder. "Not every guy. I mean we don't really have monsters like this on Earth. But there are other guys, and if some jerk comes along and tries to steal your girl..."

I stopped, remembering about the guy who brought a gun into my store and ran off with my Felicia just a few days before.

"A real man would put up a fight," I told her.

"Men of Barris would never duel to the death for a lady," said Dayla, a bit disgusted. "It's uncivilized."

"Men of Earth don't duel to the death," I said. "Well, not any more. But they do compete for the lady's affections."

"Why?"

"Because there's just something about ladies that draw us in. The look in her eyes. Her smile. The way her hair falls on her shoulders."

Without even thinking, my fingers found their way into Dayla's hair. It was as soft as it looked. She didn't seem to mind the touch either. Her eyes closed as my fingers passed softly through her hair.

"A guy who's in love gets all stupid," I said. "He'll do anything to win that girl."

"Like what?

"Oh, plenty of things," I said, trying to remember a few. "They'll give her flowers. Write poems. Take her on romantic dates."

"Romantic dates?" She tripped over the words, having never heard them before.

"It's where a guy asks a girl to go out with him," I said.

"Where do they go?" she asked, intrigued.

"Anywhere the guy wants," I said. "Although if he's smart, he'll make it a romantic place."

Dayla had a flirtatious twinkle in her eye. I was getting through to her! "So what if a boy wanted to take me some place romantic on Barsoom. Where would this be?"

It was now or never. I held out my hand. She placed hers in mine. I led her down to the back porch filled with carpets and hopped on the first pretty one I saw.

"You guys have any nice gardens around here?"

"There's the orchard," said Dayla. "Just east of the city in the Valley of Trier."

"Then away we go," I said. "Take us to the Valley of Trier!"

The carpet did nothing.

Dayla began to laugh.

"Did I do it wrong?"

Dayla pulled me away from the carpet. "That carpet takes you to the southern pole of the planet," she said. "There are no gardens there. Just ice."

I looked back at the carpet. "Really?" Even on Mars, I can't escape my own blunt stupidity when it comes to girls.

"If you want to go to the orchard, you have to choose the right carpet." Dayla led me to another, featuring a large tree. "Take us to the orchard."

The carpet fluttered, and we were off. Dayla grabbed onto my arm, sitting tight. For a girl with no real idea what love or romance was, she was catching on fast.

"So these carpets," I said, making small talk. "You can't get from place to place on just one carpet?"

"Of course not," she said. "Every carpet knows but two locations."

"What about your brother's?" I asked.

"The one my brother uses to get about the city will take him anywhere in city limits, but not beyond."

"Huh," I said. "So if you want to hit multiple points, you have to change carpets each time."

"Is different from how you do things on Earth?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Depends on what airline you fly."

Our chariot of fuzz took us outside the city limits to a green valley filled with bright green, very rounded treetops. As we descended towards the orchard, I soon saw that the treetops were only that – rounded, symmetrical, and neatly aligned, but with no trunks. The green leaves hid an abundance of fruit both strange and colorful. It wasn't exactly a candlelit bistro in Paris, but it would do.

The carpet touched down. I took Dayla by the hand and led her into the orchard.

"What a lovely place," I said. "Do you dine at this restaurant often?"

"It is not a restaurant," she said. "It is an orchard."

I looked her direction. "Tell me you know what imagination is."

"Of course," she said.

"Then use it."

"Why?"

"Shhh," I said. "Just do it. Trust me."

"What am I imagining?"

"Some beautiful, soft music," I said. "A nice, quiet table for two. A waiter named Pierre, or something else snooty."

"Pierre," she said. "Would that make this romantic?"

"Well not Pierre so much," I said. "But the quiet table in the quiet restaurant with the soft music, that's more the idea."

"I see," said Dayla. "No, Stewart, I have not eaten at this restaurant. What do you call it?"

"Oh, I dunno. How about McDonalds?" Yeah, I never really went in for fancy places.

"McDonalds," she said, sounding enchanted. "I think I like that name."

"Oh, Pierre," I said to the imaginary waiter, "We'll have two Happy Meals."

I sat for a moment, milking the silence. "You know, I think Pierre's busy. Why don't I serve us?"

"But it is his job," said Dayla.

"Yes, but he is imaginary," I said.

"Then he will serve us imaginary food," Dayla said.

"He could," I said. "Or, if we wanted to eat real food, I could grab us a few things."

"And imagine that Pierre served them?"

"Now you're getting it," I said. I plucked a few of the strawberry-tasting melons off one of the trees and brought them over to our picnic spot. Dayla and I each took one and began to eat in silence. We exchanged little glances throughout the meal, the kind that seem so cute when you're the one exchanging them and completely revolting when you're the third wheel on the outside looking in. (Ah, junior prom, I remember thee well.)

Dayla finally broke the silence. "Now what do we do?"

"We talk," I said. "We get to know each other. I'll ask questions, you'll answer, and I'll listen."

"Why?" she asked.

"It's how we learn about each other. Find out what we have in common. For example, where did you go to school?"

"School?"

"You have schools, don't you?" I said. "The place where you learn reading and writing?"

"Why would we learn that?

"So you can learn about the world. About your history."

Dayla shook her head. "I was given everything I need to know when I was a child through telepathy."

"Really?" I said. "You know on Earth, we spend thirteen years, minimum, going to school to learn stuff?"

"What a terrible waste of time," she said. "That is time that could be spent enjoying life."

"You know, I thought the same thing when I was there?" I told her. "So how does it work? Someone touches your head, and voom, what they know, you know?"

"Yes," she said. "But only what they want me to know. What they deem important."

I remembered my first day on Mars, when Mel touched my head and I was able to speak the language. "So that's how she did it. The first day I was here, Mel taught me your language that way."

"It is how we all learn," she said. "Is that not the Earth way?"

"Oh no," I said. "Learning language takes a long time when we're babies. We listen to our parents, and we gradually pick it up."

"What's a parent?" asked Dayla.

"You're kidding. You don't know what a parent is?"

"No, but it sounds wonderful," she said.

"Parents are... well, they make babies," I said. "That's one of the big reasons people get married on our planet. So they can have kids. Raise a family. That's what parents do."

Dayla had a look of horror on her face. I noticed her scooting away, just a bit. "You mean you have children without the machines? Like the Mountain Men?"

I wasn't sure how best to respond. "Well, I can't speak for those guys, but no, we do not use machines."

Dayla shook her head. "I do not believe you. Making babies without machines is such a savage way... and yet you do not seem barbarous at all. How can that be?"

"I had a mom and dad," I said. "That's what we call parents. The woman is mom, the man is dad. They taught me civility the same way I learned language, mostly by example. I had a mom and dad who loved me and taught me how to behave."

Dayla nodded. She seemed to relax a little bit. I wondered if she was truly frightened by the idea of me as a savage. I knew a bunch of people back home that could have told her how foolish that fear was!

"These parents sound like powerful people," she said. "How does one become a parent?"

"Well, that's kind of what this dating thing is all about," I said. "Two people fall in love. They get married. They have kids."

"That's how you become a parent?"

"Well, that's the ideal anyway. These days some people do it backwards. The kid comes, and then they get married. Some don't even bother with the marriage and just have kids. Me, I'm a little old fashioned. I like the idea that two people fall in love, get married, and have a family. All in that order."

"And the people choose for themselves whom they marry?" she asked.

"They do," I said.

She thought about this a moment. "What if one chooses a person, but the other refuses? Does that ever happen?"

"All the time," I said. "But if you get rejected, you brush yourself off, and you keep on looking."

"Until you find the one who loves you back," she said.

"That's right."

Dayla stood up, paced a bit. "Stewart, how do you know it is the right one? Without some outside force to tell you, how do you know that the one you choose is the one?"

"I don't know," I said, standing beside her. "Some people say there is no one person for everyone. There might be two or three people for each person."

"What do you believe?" she said, looking deep into my eyes.

"Me?" I reached out for her hand. "I'm an old fashioned guy. There's only one girl out there for me."

She smiled at me. I smiled back. I leaned in just a little.

"What part of the date is this?" she asked.

"The best part," I said.

"We have to run," she said in a tense whisper.

"Run?"

Blinded as I was in the moment, I never heard the giant Underworlder burrow his way to the surface just a few yards behind me. Only when I saw the reflection of the giant beast in Dayla's eyes did I discover this was NOT Dayla using her imagination.

"Oh crap."

The big bug was easily twelve feet high, not counting the antennae. He had some bling around his neck, and a long spear in his hand. He gurgled in a high pitched, clicking voice that I could not understand.

"So much for _little_ green men," I gulped.

Dayla grabbed my arm tightly. "Stewart, we must flee! No one can stand up against the Underworlders!"

I looked up at the bug. As much as I wanted to run, I couldn't. Only a few days ago, I had looked at death down the barrel of a handgun. I chickened out; I let Felicia go. Would I do the same to poor Dayla?

I was still debating whether I would engage the creature when it grabbed my shirt and lifted me off the ground. My legs kicked desperately, unable to connect with the giant bug. I heard Dayla screaming behind me. Wiggling my arm free, I lifted it high in the air and brought it down on the huge armored claw – cracking it like a piece of crab at Red Lobster.

The Underworlder howled in pain, dropping me to the ground. His mighty spear fell right beside me, missing my head by inches, as he grabbed the wounded claw with the other. I picked up the spear – which was surprisingly light, considering its length – and aimed it at the beast. It charged after me. I dove under its feet, flattening on the ground and letting the monster pass over me. I leapt to my feet and shoved the spear as hard as I could into the bug's huge rear end.

The Underworlder screamed again as I hoisted him up like a grasshopper on a stick. Slowly, the weight of the creature slid down the shaft. He screamed and screamed, but could not stop the inevitable. Seeing the creature was suffering, I slammed it down hard on the ground. His body armor shattered. Guts spilled out on all sides. He moved another minute more, but death came swiftly.

I walked around to the head of the beast, prepared to smash its head. I saw there was no life left in it, and let it be. Then I turned to look for Dayla.

The princess had taken cover behind a tree. Slowly, she emerged from her hiding place, gazing on the dead bug.

"You see?" I said. "That's how they did it in the old days. Boy loves girl, boy fights to save girl from savage beast. Then, if the lady was pleased—"

Dayla grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me hard into her and pressing her lips to mine. I had no doubt at that moment the lady was pleased.

She let me go after a minute, looking up into my eyes. "I understand it now. This thing you call love."

I took her into my arms. "Let's skip the ceremony. Say you'll be mine, and let's get married!"

Dayla grew pale. She pulled away, stepping back from me. "I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"I am the princess of Barris," she declared. "Of all people, I must set an example and obey our customs."

"But that's just it," I said. "You're the princess. Surely you can pull some strings."

Dayla tilted her head to the side, confused. "Pull some strings?"

Me and my silly Earth metaphors. "It's an Earth expression. It means there must be something you can do."

"I wish there was."

We walked back to the carpet and flew back to the palace in silence. I wanted to hold her hand, to plead with her, but I didn't know what else to say. I kept thinking about the wedding banquet, wondering what lucky man would draw the princess, and what ugly crone would end up with me.

# CHAPTER EIGHT

I had a much tougher time sleeping that night than the night before. I was used to sleeping with a TV on, and sometimes the radio. There was no noise whatsoever in the Martian night. It was kind of creepy for a guy who, at 21, still cannot sleep without a nightlight.

I wandered the palace for a bit in my floppy toga PJ's. Aside from the pajamas, I had resisted the pressure to start dressing like a Martian thus far, but with Wedding Day approaching I did send my Earth clothes off with Hextar and Briggin for a good cleaning. I walked the halls for hours, hoping to find someone to talk to, but I soon realized that when the sun went down, everyone in Barris went down with it.

I walked along the back porch of the palace, looking at all the rugs. Part of me wanted to find one and just start calling out destinations, seeing where they might take me. Common sense helped me stay off the rugs. Mars turned out to be an okay place to visit (besides the lack of TV or games or anything cool to do), but I could just see myself suffocating in the gassy regions of Jupiter.

I spent much of the time thinking about Dayla, and how I could manipulate the odds of winding up with her the following night. I was a guest at the prince's banquet, which the princess would attend, so that was a start. I had no way of knowing how many grooms there might be, or how I could work the system.

Of course even if I did, a year from now I would be expected to give her up and marry someone new. So would she. I suppose even some Earth folks would find that system preferable to the one we had. But again, I'm an old fashioned guy. And besides, I'd already fought a monster for her.

When I wasn't thinking about Dayla, I was thinking about Felicia. Would a short-term marriage to a Martian princess affect my chances of ending up with her? Or, if I never made it home, would I be able to live happily with Dayla, always wondering if there could have been something else with Felicia?

Both girls had their allure. Dayla was an honest to goodness princess. Felicia was no princess, but she belonged to a world that included television. And they were both hot as could be.

After several hours of wading through mind numbing, what-if scenarios, I gave into temptation and went looking for a bottle of that ol' Martian knock out juice. I took it back to my room and went to sleep in no time.

I woke up late the following morning, thanks to all the noise going on outside. It was the loudest and busiest I had heard Barris thus far, so I went to the windows to have a look. All across the city, everyone was preparing for wedding feasts. I rang for Hextar and Briggin to get my clothes, and once again had to decline their offer to dress me.

I grabbed a quick snack from the kitchen and resumed wandering the halls. People were busy hanging banners and decorations for the evening festivities, but in true Barrissian fashion, everything was sloppy and poorly done. By dinner time the palace looked more like a wedding AFTER the party, not before.

Prince Orrin, dressed in his finest white and gold, found me before the banquet and gave me the low down. "Each man will take a seat in the hall, leaving an empty seat to their right. The ladies will then enter and surround the table. One by one, each man will draw a name from the bowl passed around the room. That name is the name of your new bride."

It was simple enough, yet impossible for me to figure out a way to rig it. Back on Earth, Howie was the expert in cheating at cards and rigging the odds. I was pretty much up a creek alone on Mars.

Just before dinner, I lined up in my blue jeans and T-shirt with all the toga-wearing grooms-to-be. Every one of them was just a bit taller and quite a bit more handsome than I. In spite of the odds, I started to sense an overwhelming optimism. This was my adventure, not theirs. It was I who was the duck out of water, the hero who had saved the princess not once, but twice. I walked into the dining room with a sense of destiny, knowing without a doubt that some how, some way, the princess would be mine.

I stood behind a chair half way down the table from Prince Orrin, who took the head. As instructed, we all left a seat beside us empty, waiting for our brides.

The ladies did not keep us waiting long. Every one of them was a knockout, jeweled and dressed and made up like goddesses from Olympus. I spotted the woman I had pulled from the collapsed house two days before, not a trace of sorrow or mourning on her face. Why should there be? She would receive a new husband today. I hoped, for her sake, he was a little better at home maintenance.

My eyes were drawn to a mysterious woman who followed the widow woman into the room. Her skin seemed to glow a pearly white, her features dark and alluring against the glow. A gold band wrapped up her forearm, and little white flowers were woven in her hair. It took a minute, but I finally recognized her – it was Mel! Two days prior, she had nearly been a slave. Now, she was a vision of unbelievable radiance. If it wasn't meant to be for me and the princess, perhaps I might...

Snap out of it, I told myself. I had wooed and won the princess. It was royalty or bust.

Dayla did not disappoint amid the Martian beauties. She entered last, and no one in the room could help but stare. Her dress was lined with gold on the bottoms and around the plunging neckline, her arms filled with gold rings. Gold vines wrapped in and around her hair. She took a lap around the table, pausing to smile at each would-be groom, pausing only once – to talk to me.

"You look handsome," she said.

I touched her arm. "I wish it didn't have to be this way."

She smiled coyly. "Perhaps you can, how did you say, pull some strings?"

Dayla took her place with the other women. A servant entered with a large white bowl, handing it to Orrin.

"The ceremony will now begin," declared Orrin. He shot a glance my direction. Then he handed the bowl to the first man on his left – three quarters of the table away from me.

The first man drew a small tile from the bowl. He held it up and read aloud, "Talleah."

A beautiful blonde behind me stepped forward, then walked around the table. She took her new husband by the hand and sat down with him. The next groom took the bowl.

"Motiya."

It was the woman I saved from the house who moved this time. Two days a widow, she was married once more. She sat down beside her husband, the look on her face one of total disinterest.

I glanced over at Dayla. I hoped she would glance up at me, but she remained focused on the bowl. Her words raced through my mind. "Pull some strings." Had she done something? What was her plan? How would I know?

My eyes drifted from Dayla to Mel. I had to admit, she held her own in the room, even against the princess. She looked over at me and smiled. I nodded, and turned my attention to the man with the bowl – now two spots away from me.

"Yllana."

The woman named Yllana stepped up to the table and joined her husband. The guy next to me slipped his hand into the bowl. I sized him up, knowing in my heart of hearts that if he were to draw the princess's name I would probably take a swing at him... even if he was a head taller than me.

"Odeena."

I exhaled a major sigh of relief, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. Odeena, who looked like a lovely woman, took her place next to her groom, who passed bowl to me. I looked down at the few remaining tiles in the bowl. I looked at Mel. I looked at Dayla.

"Well, here goes nothing, right?"

I reached into the bowl, letting my hand drag the bottom. That's when I noticed the string. It felt as if it were glued to the bottom of the bowl, and as I followed it to the end, it stopped at a tile that had also been secured to the bottom. I looked at Dayla. She smiled. "Pull the string." Clever girl.

I pulled on the string. It came free from the bowl, as did the tile. I pulled the tile out, and read...

"Umm, excuse me," I said to Odeena's new husband. "I can't read your language. What does that say?"

The man looked at the tile and read the name I longed to hear: "Princess Dayla."

I half expected a slow clap to begin, accompanied by an old 80's love ballad with a touch of that new wave sound. Instead, complete silence devoid of emotion, the same as every new bride and groom received. The way these people seemed to regard marriage, I began to realize their attitude and Earth attitude about the institution was not that much different.

When Dayla took her seat beside me, I could have cared less what the others thought. She placed her hand on my knee. I couldn't wait for this stupid ceremony to be over.

The next guy took the bowl into his hands. He reached inside. My eyes landed back on Mel, still looking incredible. I wondered if this would be her time.

The groom-to-be pulled a tile from the bowl and promptly dropped the darn bowl when he heard a loud crash at the end of the hall. The doors were flung wide open, and a pack of the ugliest, hairiest men I had ever seen swarmed into the room.

The women in the room gasped with fear. Orrin kept his cool, moving his hand slightly to keep everyone in line. The hairy beasts took up station on both sides of the table, ogling our women. I recognized one right away from my first day on Mars. I took great satisfaction in noting the man still walked with a limp, but I was also worried what might happened if he recognize me.

Then the biggest, ugliest one of all walked into the dining hall. Covered in armor, carrying something like a fat baseball bat with spikes, he strolled to the end of the table opposite Orrin.

"Who's the freak?" I whispered to Dayla.

"That is Lobo," she said. "The Mountain King."

Lobo looked down one side of the table, then the other. "I hope we are not too late for the party, Prince Orrin."

"Of course not, your majesty." Orrin was cool, not a bead of sweat to be seen on his forehead. "It is an honor to have you join us."

"An honor," said Lobo. "And yet you do not wait for the guest of honor before beginning a banquet?"

"We have only commenced the giving of brides, your Excellency. We haven't begun to serve the meal. I hope you will join us."

Lobo spat on the table. For a second, I expected the monster loogie to sprout legs and come to life. "Like I would put your half-baked food in my mouth," he gurgled at the prince.

"Your majesty may do as he pleases," said Orrin. "Dine with us in leisure, or proceed with the annual tribute."

Lobo pawed at his beard. "For the price of freedom and liberty, the city of Barris will grant the Mountain King fifty bushels of fruit, two hundred jars of wine, and my weight in your finest linen."

"Your request is fair and just," said Orrin. He motioned to two frightened servants, who quickly departed. "All will be ready in an hour."

"Good," said Lobo. He leaned over the table, glancing down both sides. "Now, to choose the woman who will bear my next offspring."

All of a sudden, the stoic, emotionless brides became clingy. All who had husbands gripped their arms tightly. The others bunched together along the wall. Mel was at the center of the group, showing the least amount of fear.

Lobo hobbled down the opposite side of the table, sniffing the new brides like a dog sniffs its dinner. He paused at Motiya, touching her hair. The girl cringed at his touch.

"Grimnaught," said Lobo. "This one looks promising, eh?"

The tallest of the Mountain Men nodded. "A lovely choice, your majesty."

Lobo sniffed Motiya's hair. "The fear I smell on her is intoxicating."

"Your last bride smelled that way," said Grimnaught. "She only lasted a few weeks."

"Indeed," said Lobo. "Fear entices me, but it's a sign of weakness."

Lobo turned to survey the brides left to be picked. Mel kept her cool, while the others cowered. Lobo lurched right up to Mel, sniffing the air.

"Perhaps I need something different," he said. "Someone strong. This one shows no sign of weakness."

The other unattached brides peeled away, leaving Mel alone with the beast.

"A tasty morsel indeed," Lobo stroked her cheek. Mel grabbed his hand and pushed it away. Lobo growled and slapped her face, sending her sprawling.

I was on my feet before I knew it was happening.

"Get your dirty paws off her!" I shouted.

Lobo turned and glared at me. "Who dares speak back to Lobo?"

"Me," I said. "Stewart John Jones of Earth!"

"Bah!" the grizzled old king snarled. He started to respond when his eye was drawn to someone else – the woman sitting by my side. He let out a low wheeze of excitement.

"Why Prince, you didn't tell me that your sister was of marrying age!"

Orrin didn't even flinch, he was so cool. "It is her first year, majesty."

Lobo hobbled around the table heading towards my girl. "So lovely, so delicate. And untouched."

"A finer choice I have rarely seen in Barris," added Grimnaught.

"Majesty," said Orrin. "She is not ready for you. Let her spend a year with a man of Barris—"

"You would tell me what to do, boy?" Lobo trembled with anger. "It is my tribute, my choice!"

Orrin remained calm. "It is, majesty."

"The princess comes with me," Lobo declared. He reached for my girl, and that's when I hit him.

Lobo flopped to the ground like a wet noodle. The brides and grooms raced to Orrin's side of the room in terror.

"What are you doing, Stewart?" Orrin yelled.

"Sorry, Lobo," I said. "The princess is already spoken for."

Lobo growled as he climbed back to his feet. "What is this nonsense?"

"You're too late," I said, my chest puffed out. "This one belongs to me. Go pick another girl and beat it."

Lobo sniffed at me. "You do not dress like a man of Barris. Do you not know the proper custom? The Mountain King has first choice."

"Yeah?" I said. "The Man from Earth trumps the Mountain King."

Lobo snorted. "An Earth man?"

"That's right," I said. "Earth. The third planet. A planet of fierce warriors like Batman, Superman, and Hulk Hogan."

"Never heard of them!" Lobo snarled.

"Just trust me, you don't want to make me mad. Ask your boy Lumpy over there."

I nodded to guy still limping from the accidental beating I had given him two days prior. Lobo motioned to the wounded warrior, who approached Lobo with fear.

"Is this the one?" said Lobo. "The mighty, fearsome warrior who destroyed our caravan and took my prize?"

Lumpy nodded. "It is true."

Lobo laughed. "You think I should be afraid of this puny, hairless alien worm?"

The Mountain King whipped out the biggest, broadest sword I had ever seen and gutted Lumpy right on the spot. The ladies screamed in unison. One of the grooms fainted. Lobo cackled as he turned back to me.

"Oh, big man, killing one of your own." I was cool on the outside, but I assure you, I was ready to wet my pants with terror. "You know, that's not going to breed long term loyalty with your men. A good manager knows the key to success is a happy work force."

"Silence!"

I dove for the dead Mountain Man and drew his sword from its hilt. It was not as big as Lobo's, and it felt like a Nerf sword in my hands. I doubted it would protect me in a duel, but I held my ground.

"You want a piece of me, ugly?" I said. "Just bring it!"

Lobo stepped back, lowering his sword. "Brutus, come!"

I heard a whirring and clanking sound from outside the doors of the great hall. Then, I saw him. He was about nine feet tall, with long legs, arms, claws, and a torso all made of a flat gray metal. The head had two eyes along the jaw line and a glass dome on top. I would have admired its retro look and design as a nice throw back to the robots of sci-fi past on Earth had the robot not been bearing down on me at that moment.

"It's a robot," I said, backing away. "A scary, killer robot. You guys brought a robot to a knife fight. Wow. Really not fair, Lobo."

Lobo laughed. Brutus lifted its left arm, pointing its hand at me. The hand began to glow. There was a flash of light, and then – darkness.

# CHAPTER NINE

The next thing I remember is a vision of Dayla, lying beneath the sheets with me. I could feel her soft hand caressing my face. I felt the warmth of her body heat, and the soft sensation of her wedding gown slip between my fingers. I turned to her, taking her in my arms, kissing her.

I opened my eyes.

I screamed.

And then, I fell out of bed.

I was back in my palace bedroom, still in my jeans and T-shirt. There was a bride in my bed, but it was not Dayla.

It was Mel.

"Mel??"

"Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well?"

I rubbed my eyes, and immediately felt the tingle from a large bump on the back of my head. It all started coming back to me now. The ceremony began. I found the string. Dayla had made sure I would choose her. All was right with the world. Then came Lobo. And then came the robot.

That was as far as I could remember.

"Where's Dayla?" I said.

"Do not worry about the princess," said Mel. "She is with her husband."

"No she's not!" I said. "I'm her husband. I remember, I chose her name. It was all working out perfectly, and then..."

"Then the Mountain King honored you by choosing her for his bride," said Mel.

"He honored me by stealing from me?"

"It is his right, and his tribute," said Mel. "As it has been for so many years."

"But she's my girl," I said. "Why can't you people get that?"

"Do not cause a fuss," said Mel. "The prince was so pleased with your willingness to let his sister go, he honored you with a new bride."

"Who?"

Mel sat up. Her hair was still perfect. Her dress, amazing. Her words down right enticing. "I am yours."

I considered it for a moment – then rejected it. "No, you are not. I chose the princess. She chose me."

"How is that possible?"

"Just trust me," I said, "It happened."

I turned and headed for the bedroom door. Mel pulled her gown around her and followed after me. "Wait a moment! You can't leave yet!"

I was already out the door, looking for the prince. I had no idea where to start, but thankfully, my buddy Briggin was nearby.

"Which way to the prince's room?"

Briggin smiled. "I'll take you, Stewart."

Briggin led me up a stairway to the highest level of the palace. Mel continued to give chase. "Stewart John Jones, this is the way it has to be. Why can't you accept it?"

"Because I saved her life," I said. "I won her with my own hands. Surely you guys get that concept."

"By that logic," said Mel, "I was yours long before you saw her."

She was right. I didn't care. Briggin took me right to Orrin's door. I barged straight inside.

Orrin sat on the edge of his bed, his new bride behind him, rubbing his broad shoulders. He was as cool and calm as ever, even smiling as I stalked right up to him.

"Stewart Stewart John Jones, do you find your new wife pleasing?"

"Where's Dayla?" I shouted.

Orrin didn't even flinch. "On her way to the mountains by now. The Mountain King departed last night. Surely you remember."

"You let her go?" I said. "You wouldn't even fight for your own sister?"

Orrin stood up, facing me eye to eye. "Why should I? It is his privilege, and he honored us both by taking her."

"You really mean that?" I said. "Are you really pleased to see your sister, your own flesh and blood, in the clutches of that savage?"

"Stewart Stewart John Jones, what would you have me do instead?" Orrin walked toward his open window. "Look out there. Barris has had peace for a century, all due to the generous grace of the Mountain King. He could have over run us long ago. Only by the cunning of the great King Barris himself were we able to strike the deal that keeps our people free."

"Free?" I said. "Lying around on your butts all day isn't freedom. And neither is giving up one of your precious daughters every year in sacrifice to those barbarians! You want real freedom, you gotta fight for it."

"You are a savage man," said Orrin. "I had hoped we might civilize you to our way of life. But I can see that is never going to happen."

"Fine then," I said. "You don't like me? I guess I'll be going some place where I fit in. Soon as you tell me how to get there."

"Get where?" said Orrin.

"To the mountains," I said. "To Lobo's castle or fortress or whatever. Seems to me that's the only shot I have at getting my bride back."

"Stewart no!" said Mel, grasping my arm. "Do not risk death at the hands of the savages. Stay here and live in marital bliss with me."

"For what, a year?" I shook her arm off. "This is a one woman guy. When I take a bride, it's gonna be forever."

"Please, listen to your wife," said Orrin. The Mountain King's territory is very far from here. It's two days along the canal, then a full day's walk from there at the least."

"You have magic carpets, don't you?" I ran to the nearest carpet. "To the Mountain King, ha!!" Nothing happened. I ran to another carpet. "To the Mountain King, ha!"

Orrin laughed. "It is no use. There are no carpets between Barris and the Mountain King in this palace. They were destroyed years go."

"Why?" I said.

"To prevent someone from doing something rash, like you," said Orrin.

"Fine then. Guess I'll be taking the canal."

I stormed out of the room, Mel chasing after me, pleading the whole way.

"Stewart, please listen to the prince. He is wise and cunning. This is the way it has to be so that we may live in peace."

"So long as I'm stuck on this rock, there will be no peace until I get my bride back."

"I am your bride!" Mel shouted.

"And in another year, you'll be someone else's bride," I said. "You do things your way. I'll do them mine."

We made our way through the throngs of newlyweds in the streets of Barris down to the canal. I turned to the people at the water's edge.

"Okay, Martians, listen up! The Mountain King has just made off with your princess!" There was a slight murmur in the crowd. For a moment, I thought I might have a chance to reach them.

"The Mountain King honors us by taking Princess Dayla," said one Martian.

"Now we will have peace," said his wife.

"Are you people mad? This is your princess! My bride!"

"I am your bride!" Mel shouted.

"Sorry, sweetie. Where I come from, we fight for the women we love. And that woman is Princess Dayla. I'm gonna go to the mountains, kick down the doors of the Mountain King's palace and take back what is mine. I'm gonna bring Princess Dayla back and teach you all a fair lesson in the power of love. I'll do it alone if I have to, but something deep down tells me that out there among all you lushes and slackers is the heart of a hero just dying to be awakened. Who's going to raid the palace of the Mountain King with me? Who among you will go and fight?"

Silence.

Awkward, long silence.

I heard a man in the crowd cough. Several couples just walked away. No one seemed eager to risk their life for Dayla.

"Think about it," I said. "This is a chance to become a hero. Years from now, wouldn't you want to grow old knowing that one day you stood for something? Come on, everybody. They can take our lives, but they can't take our freedom, right?" I never liked _Braveheart_ , but then and there, I wished I had paid more attention to the movie. Not that even Mel Gibson had any hope of motivating these people to action.

The crowd was moving away quickly, finding better things to do than listen to a raving Earthman on a crusade to save his wife. Orrin had made his way down to the canal, new wife in tow. He seemed rather pleased to find me standing alone.

Against all odds, I tried once more. "Come on, guys. Who wants to save the princess? Anyone? No one? Okay." I reached into my pockets. Perhaps a bribe might work. "How about some shiny space coins? Shiny space coins from planet Earth with the pictures of the Earth gods engraved on them." I held up a penny. "Look, there's Lincoln, god of freedom." I tried a quarter. "And Washington, god of cherry trees." And finally, a dime. "And Roosevelt, god of handicapped people." The Earth gods compel you! Come with me, and fight!

Orrin shook his head. "This is our way, Stewart. It's the way we have chosen to be. Taste, and you will see it is the better."

I turned and stepped onto the boat. "See you in a week, Prince. And when I get back, nobody touches Dayla but me."

I untied the ropes holding the canal. Mel raced up to me, grabbing my hands.

"Husband, please reconsider! It is death that awaits you in the land of the Mountain King. You do not even know the way."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Mel nodded. That was all the information I needed. I pulled Mel onto the boat with me, screaming. It was a risk, but not much. As I expected, no one bothered to come to Mel's aid. Only a few even bothered to look up as out boat drifted down the canal.

"You cannot do this to me!" shouted Mel.

"You don't wanna go?" I said. "Swim for it!"

How can I?" she said. "The water is too deep."

I smiled, looking over the edge at the three foot deep canal. "Guess that means you're trapped. 'Til death or Dayla do us part!"

"Help!" Mel screamed. "Someone help me."

It was too late. We were already a good distance down stream, headed off on a grand adventure.

# CHAPTER TEN

For such a lazy person, Mel proved to have a great deal of endurance when it came to yelling for help. As long as there were people in sight, Mel would yell, hoping against all odds that someone would care enough to rescue her. Mel eventually gave up as her voice gave out and we left the city behind. The buildings vanished, and the Martian prairie lay before us.

The canal seemed to stretch on forever, the water moving at a constant but relaxed pace. I had a paddle available inside the boat, but I found I rarely needed it. Whoever designed this canal did so with the peaceful, carefree boater in mind. Just another reason why the people of Barris had become so spoiled.

Mel settled down in the boat to nap, no doubt hoping she would awaken from her nightmare much as I had done when I arrived on Mars. I couldn't even think of sleep, gazing at the sights around me.

The canal traveled through mostly wastelands, but occasionally led us through another Martian city. Besides Barris, all the cities we saw were completely abandoned. Few of them were as large and grand as Barris, and all were in great disrepair, the taller buildings having crumbled long ago.

As the sun began to set, we came to a series of statues about sixty feet high that stood on either side of the canal. They were a pinkish marble, and many of them showed cracks and other signs of age. Yet even in their decaying condition, they were a sight to see. Human men and women gazed down on us from both sides. Some held weapons, giant swords and spears. Some held books and scrolls. Some held what look like farming tools, and a few even seem to be holding balls, posed in the midst of an athletic competition.

Mel woke up and was startled by the enormous statues.

"Have you ever seen these before?" I asked.

Mel shook her head.

"Who are they?"

Mel shrugged. "They cannot be from Barris."

"Yeah," I said. "They don't look like it. These people clearly lived in a different world than yours."

"How would you know?" she said.

"They're warriors, for one. They love education, they love beauty, they play sports. I don't see any of these things in Barris."

Mel regarded the statues with disdain. "How vulgar."

I smiled at her. "I think they might say the same about you."

"Yet I am flesh and blood, while they exist only in rock," said Mel.

"Yeah," I said. "Strange how that works out."

Mel stood up and walked to the front of the boat, surveying the canal way. "We haven't come to any splits, have we?"

"Not yet," I said.

"When the canal splits, we must stay to the left," she said.

"How far is that?" I asked.

"I do not know," she said. "But if we miss the split, we will end up on the river of the dead."

"Sounds exciting," I said.

Mel turned to me, grabbing my shirt, a look of desperation in her eyes. Even after a long day, she was gorgeous. "Please, take me back while you still can. I will release you from our wedding vows, just let me go."

I pulled away from her and adjusted my shirt. "It's too late, Mel. There's no turning back once we've crossed the first threshold."

"The what?"

"It's the hero's journey," I said. "The mythic quest that turns an ordinary guy like me into a great champion. Don't your people have any myths or legends?"

"I never was much for stories," said Mel.

"We're all about them on Earth," I said. "And what's crazy is every culture on Earth, no matter how different, has a hero's story, a legend that follows the same pattern as everyone else." I was in the seventh grade when my love of _Star Wars_ led me to read Joseph Campbell. Drove my English teacher nuts. She wanted me to read cheesy young adult literature like a good little boy. You can imagine how thrilled she was on book report day when I made her look like an idiot in front of class."

"Is this a real story?" asked Mel. "Is it something that actually happened?"

"Well, yes and no," I said. "In a way you could say that almost every human undergoes their own hero quests, some psychological, some spiritual."

"And you believe that we are in one of your stories?"

"We're writing our own story, Mel," I said. "You and me."

"How does this story go?"

It had been too long since I had a chance to expound on Campbell for someone... at least not without Ted standing behind me, correcting everything I got wrong. "It begins with phase one, The Departure, when a young hero is called to adventure. At first they refuse, but some force acts upon them drawing them to cross the first threshold. Like we just did."

Mel nodded. "So now what?"

"The next step is Initiation," I said. "When we pass through the belly of the whale."

"What is the whale?"

"It's a symbol," I said. "Though on Earth, a whale is a large sea creature."

"We are going to be swallowed by a sea creature?" shouted Mel.

"Not literally," I said, shaking my head. "It's a symbolic part of the journey, a time of darkness, after which we will walk down the road of trials that will prepare us to fight and conquer the world of the Mountain Men."

Mel's face sank. "Did you say trials?"

"Yes."

She sighed deeply. "That sounds awful. I do not want to go through trials. I want to go home."

"There's only one way home," I said. "And it's through the kingdom of the Mountain Men."

"It is not," said Mel. It is back down the canal."

"Will you stop being so negative?" I said. "If this is a hero's journey, and I am very sure it is, we will have help."

"From whom?"

"The hero always has some form of supernatural aid, usually from a wise sage," I said, visions of Obi Wan Kenobi in my head. "Someone older, wiser, who will give us the knowledge, skills, or tools we need to succeed."

"But where will we find such a man?" wondered Mel. "No one lives between us and the mountains."

"Are you sure?"

"Nobody," she said. "Just the Underworlders who live beneath the surface."

I shrugged. "You never know. It could be one of them."

Mel recoiled in terror. "I am not going anywhere near the Underworlders!"

"Hey, I don't make the rules, Mel! We'll go where the road takes us."

"And where is that road supposed to lead us?"

"To the mountain, where I will encounter the goddess."

"What goddess?"

"Princess Dayla, of course."

"And then we can go home?"

I sighed, frustrated by her total lack of interest in the deeper aspects of Earth mythology. "Yes. After the ultimate boon comes the Return."

"And we return home?"

"We do," I assured her.

Mel sat, disgusted. "Then I can go back to napping beside the canal."

"Whatever you desire," I said.

Mel sat back down, leaning her head on her knees. I thought she might go back to sleep, but suddenly she was back on her feet.

"Stewart, if you are the hero, and the princess is the goddess, who am I?"

I hadn't thought about that. But I knew the answer. "Well, many times, often times, the hero has what you call a sidekick."

"What is a sidekick?"

"Well, sidekicks are a lot like you," I said. "Quirky companions who provide humor to the story and stumble into situations that require the hero to save them."

Mel's face fell into an awful frown. "You mean like a joke?"

"Oh, you don't have myths and legends, but you know what a joke is?"

Mel shoved me. "How do you know I am the joke? Huh? How can you just know that I am the funny one in your story."

"Well, I..."

"Maybe I am the wise sage," she said.

"You can't be the wise sage," I said.

"You need me to guide you to the mountains," she replied. "How are you going to get there without me?"

"Sidekicks often have useful information for the hero. Information that will help them win the prize."

"Maybe I am the prize!" she said.

"No," I said. "You are definitely not the prize?"

"I could be the prize," she said. "Perhaps in your journey you realize that you do not want Princess Dayla after all. Is that not possible?"

"That's not how it works!"

"Why not?" said Mel. "I think that would make an interesting twist to your story."

"Then what's the point of the journey if I don't find the princess?"

"What if there's another princess?" said Mel. "Or, what if I am your princess?"

"No way!"

"It could happen," said Mel. "What if you find out I am royalty and you have to choose?"

"A, that's not how it works!" I said. "And B, that would not be a hard choice."

"You better hope so," she said. "It would be a shame for you to miss out on a real princess because you thought she was a side stick!"

"Sidekick."

"I do not care how you say it!"

Mel sat in the back of the boat, rocking it a little as she plopped down. A moment later she made her way back up front. "Am I going to be killed?"

# CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mel and I spent the next hour or so in silence. I kept my eyes focused on the waterway while she sulked. I felt sorry for her. I could tell that she was starting to come around to the Earth way of love. The problem, as I now realized it, was that love Earth-style really hurt.

Perhaps the Martians had it right. By effectively abolishing the concept of love, the Martians had created a rather blissful life for themselves. You couldn't get your heart broken if you never loved. Matter of fact, you could live pretty pain free without love messing with your head.

Not that I was convinced Mel was in love with me. Mel's sulky demeanor was probably just plain old-fashioned jealousy. I couldn't blame her. Here she was, on the adventure of a lifetime with a hero out to save the princess. And what part had fate assigned her? Well, I didn't want to call her a sidekick, but how else do you describe it?

I glanced back at the gorgeous woman who had been given me as a bride. Mel was very beautiful, but she was as irritating as she was hot. She reminded me of a girl who used to follow me around on the playground in third grade, forever reminding me about all the goofs in the Star Wars movies. Try as I might to get her to see things my way, she was just too stubborn to admit even the possibility of fault on her part. I was glad to have her along, but I was looking forward to parting ways at the end of the road, once Dayla was back in my arms.

I turned my eyes back to the water ahead. The canal was much wider at this point, perhaps a football field length from shore to shore. I wanted to ask how far we were from the split, but Mel needed time to cool down. I kept quiet, keeping my vigil and waiting for the moment to act, never knowing that in the midst of our argument over Joseph Campbell, we had already missed the split in the canal.

The air around us grew cooler as night set in. The Martian darkness crept over us, and visibility began to shrink rapidly. Had it been daylight, I would have spotted the imminent doom that lay before us. Instead, I was focused on the shivering and chattering of teeth from the back of the boat. I finally turned to Mel and broke the silence.

"You okay?"

Mel looked up, pitiful and frightened. "I am cold."

I nodded, than patted the seat beside me. Come up here. If we sit close, we can keep each other warm."

Mel looked away, frowning. "Why do you care? You do not want to be with me."

"I don't want you to die."

Mel looked back my way. She rose from her spot and moved up to the front of the boat. I wrapped my arm around her as she sat down.

"Do you know where we are?" she asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me," I said. "I'm still waiting for the canal to split. Are we close?"

Mel shrugged. "I do not know, Stewart."

"Have you ever been down this far?"

Mel shook her head. "Until today, I have never been outside Barris."

"Never?"

"Why would I leave?" she said. "We have everything we need in Barris. Food, shelter, safety. Warm blankets."

"And you've never had the desire to explore beyond your city?"

"Explore what, Stewart?"

"Mars," I said. "Barsoom. The planet. Come on, there's gotta be some amazing stuff to see."

"Like what?"

"This canal for one," I said. "The mountains for another."

"Savages live in the mountains," she said.

"Okay," I said. "But there have to be other places worth seeing that don't contain savages. Do you guys have forests?"

"Only one I know of," she said. "It is a dark place full of ghosts."

"Really?" I said. "I love ghost stories. I don't suppose you know any."

"Why would I?" she said.

"How about caves?" I asked. "You guys like caves?"

"Stewart, I want to go home!" said Mel.

I took the hint and shut up, afraid if it pressed the point that she might move to the back of the boat. It was getting very cold now. Steam escaped our mouths every time we exhaled. Had I know if was going to be so cold, I would have grabbed some blankets before we left.

As I contemplated the possibility of freezing to death on a planet not my own, I spotted something drifting along the canal. I concentrated my eyes on the dark form bobbing and rocking in the water about twenty yards off to the left, trying to get some idea as to what it might be.

"What is it?" I saw Mel was looking the same direction I was. "Is that another boat?"

The object drifted closer, and it did indeed appear to be a boat. Not only that, I could make out a solitary figure sitting in the middle.

"I'd say that's a boat," I said. "And there's someone on board."

Mel sprang to her feet and shouted, "Hey!! Help me! Please! Are you from Barris? Please, take me back!"

The boat rocked dangerously as Mel tried to flag down the boater. "Take it easy!" I said. "We're miles from Barris. He might no be friendly."

Mel ignored me, continuing to shout at the other boat. "Steer us closer!" she shouted. "We have to catch him."

I grunted, pulling the paddle out and pushing it into the frigid waters. Mel wobbled and sat down as I started to paddle toward the other boat. Mel continued to call out to our new found friend, but the other boater remained strangely silent.

"What is the matter with him?" Mel sighed.

"I don't know," I replied.

"Am I not shouting loud enough?"

"It's loud enough for me."

The boat was a mere five yards away when Mel stood up again. "Hello there! Can you help us? Hello!"

An icy chill ran down my spine – and not just because of the icy air surrounding us. I suddenly realized why the man was sitting motionless, speechless. Mel continued to shout.

"Please, I have been kidnapped by an Earth man!"

"Mel, I don't think this guy is going to help us."

Mel glared down at me. "Why not?"

The other boat bumped into ours. The man topped from his seated position, flopping over on his side, stiff as a board, eyes wide open in his last grimace before death. Mel took one look and screamed.

I shoved the other boat away with my paddle. No sooner were we free that another boat bobbed into view, this one carrying a dead woman. Mel quickly realized, as I had, that we were right in the middle of a fleet of boats, all bearing the dead on their journey to their final resting place.

"You missed the turn!" Mel screamed at me.

"I missed the turn?" I snapped back. "You missed the turn! You're the one who knows what it looks like!"

"I do not know what it looks like!" she fired back. "Only that we must take it!"

"Well it's a little late for that!" I said. "Maybe if you hadn't been fighting me this whole time, we'd have found it."

"Do not blame me, Stewart!" she fired back. "This is your grand adventure, remember?"

"You're the one who knows where we are going!"

"I told you to watch for the split in the canal! You have led us down the river of the dead!"

"Okay, don't panic," I told her. "We'll turn around, paddle upstream. It will take longer, but we'll get out of this. Then we can get on our way, find my princess, and return you to your stupid, boring life."

Mel didn't respond to my plan. She was too focused on the gigantic cave now looming just in front of us. I shook my head.

"See?" I said, laughing nervously. "I told you we'd enter the belly of a whale."

"That is no sea creature," said Mel. "It is the heart of the world."

I didn't know what that meant, but I hated the sound of it. I pictured our little boat plunging into the planet core, dissolving itself and us in a white-hot foamy Martian magma. I would have paddled against the stream with every ounce of strength in my scrawny body, but it was simply too late. The black cave loomed overhead and swallowed us. Mel and I reacted to this turn of events in the only way two rational people could: we screamed.

We screamed and screamed and screamed, each for our own reasons: Mel for the unjust, untimely ending of her peaceful, slothful life, and me for the cosmic injustice Mars had done to a native son of Earth. I felt like appealing to the planet's sense of justice, crying out, "Hey! If there's a god of Mars listening, you've got the wrong guy! My Earth gods will not be pleased! There will be an inquest, and believe me, we've got the best lawyers in the solar system!" But instead, I just kept on screaming, stopping only when our tiny boat emerged from the cave into a strange lagoon.

The waters were calmer on the other side of the cave, but the air was even colder. A quick look around revealed why. We were literally surrounded by ice! Walls of ice rose up to the left and the right of us, layered and stacked as high as one could see. The fog made it difficult to make out just how high the ice rose overhead.

There were more boats and rafts than before in this small lagoon, many of them wedged together near the ice walls. Our little craft was free of any of that traffic, floating blissfully in the middle of the lagoon.

Mel trembled and shivered like crazy. I put my arm around her. "So," I said, "This is the heart of the world."

Mel looked at me, shaking. "No. It is still in front of us."

The fog broke ahead, and I saw what she meant: a cliff, a waterfall, drawing us closer and closer, waited hungrily opposite the mouth of the cave. Swearing and screaming, I began to paddle as hard as I could while Mel screamed at me.

"I am going to die! I am going to die, and it is all your fault!"

I turned to her. "We won't die if you'll help me paddle!"

Mel dropped to the deck and reached over the side, paddling against me in the icy waters. "No, no! Over here! Paddle on the same side!"

"You never said that!"

I was too busy paddling to argue back. Mel came over to my side, and I gave her the oar, figuring we would maximize our strength if she used the oar and I used my arms. We were a good thirty feet off from the nearest wall, on the left side of the boat, and the row was made harder by the other boats and rafts bumping into us.

The current suddenly took hold, and our speed through the lagoon doubled. Mel toppled down, landing on her butt inside the boat. "It is no use! You have slain me, Stewart John Jones! You have slain your wife!"

Ahead, I saw one last hope: three rafts frozen together, wedged behind one that had long ago frozen to the wall. If we moved fast, we had a shot. I took the paddle and gave five long strokes before standing up and pulling Mel with me.

"What are you doing?" she cried out.

"Just stick with me," I said. "It's our only chance."

I timed the jump just right, leaping from the boat to the first raft, pulling Mel as hard as I could. I was afraid she would yank me back and we'd both fall into the water, but Mel moved as quickly as I did onto the raft – coming face to face with an open-mouthed corpse that made her scream – a scream that echoed like a shockwave through the icy walls.

The audio blast stunned me for a moment, but I regained my senses and pulled Mel with me to the ice wall – just as our three friends broke loose and joined the procession of death headed over the waterfall. I watched them slip over the edge into darkness before turning to Mel.

"Well, are you having fun yet?"

My beloved bride slapped me hard in the face. She pushed me aside as if to storm away – only to stop, screaming right into my ear again. I turned quickly and saw the thing that had frightened her so much staring back at me.

She was about Mel's height, with eyes and a face that looked so familiar. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it was the princess herself. For a moment I considered the possibility; would that fiend Lobo send my girl to this God-forsaken place to stand watch over an icy abyss for all eternity?

A closer examination revealed that it was not Dayla at all. Her clothing was colorful, not like that of the people of Barris. And her shape was much different than Dayla's. She wore a crown covered in jewels, a far cry from the stone-less adornments Dayla and her brother wore. Her mouth was open in a twisted, sickening angle, and one arm was lifted toward the waterfall, as if she were frozen in fear by the sight of the heart of the world.

I turned my eyes up to the rows of ice walls above us. A narrow path wound its way back and forth between the waterfall and the cave. All along that pathway stood people of all shapes and sizes, forever frozen in place overlooking the lagoon. As final destinations go, the view was spectacular – unless you happened to be looking at the spectators. No words could really describe the sheer, awesome horror these frozen corpses inspired in one's heart.

I looked back down, noticing that Mel was still screaming at the dead woman in front of her. I took hold of her shoulders. "Mel, she's dead. She can't hurt you."

Mel calmed down, looking at the woman in wonder. She reached out for the crown of jewels on her head, and touched it. Immediately the dead woman's neck snapped, and her head fell off, smashing like a colored chunk of crushed ice. Mel started screaming again.

"Mel, stop it!" I said. "She's dead. She can't hurt you."

Mel whimpered, then eeked out, "Dead woman... make me hurt myself."

"Listen to me," I said. "We're alive. We're alive, and we're going to get out of this!"

Mel took a few deep breaths. She reached out once more, touching the stump where a head of ice used to sit.

"This is it?" she said. "This is what happens when we die?"

I put my arm around her. "Come on. Let's find a way out of here."

Mel nodded. Sticking close to the wall, I began to lead her up away from the lagoon. The ice beneath our feet was slippery, but the treads on my Chucks were still fairly new, and up to the task. Mel was on bare feet, and eventually, about thirty feet up from the water level, her feet became too cold to move on. I hoisted her on my back Yoda-style and kept moving.

Three more turns and three, long, icy walks later, Mel gave a little cry. Pointing her finger straight ahead, I could see the end of the road – a path leading from the ice to solid ground, just above the cave. "I see it," I said, trying not to let her rattle me. We were still on dangerous ground, and I wasn't about to take a cliff dive with the end in sight.

"Stewart!" Mel whispered, her teeth chattering.

"We're almost there, Mel," I said. "Hang on."

"Stewart... that one moved!"

Mel pointed at a frozen couple just four feet ahead of us. One was a young woman, adorned with jewels like the now headless Dayla look-alike below. The other was a man in dirty brown robes, a small chisel in his hand. He looked as frozen as the others at first glance, but then I saw him move - looking at us with eyes wide open in horror.

"Spirits!" he cried! "Evil spirits!"

"Where?" shouted Mel.

The man slipped and stumbled and nearly tumbled over the edge of the path, his chisel catching in the ice just before he plunged to a certain death. He cried out in terror as his legs dangled over the edge.

"Are you okay?" I shouted.

"Leave me be!" he screamed back. "These are not yours any more! You have no use for them!"

I lowered myself to my knees and began to reach for his arm. "Please, grab my hand and I'll help you!"

"Cruel demon!" he cried. "Is this how you pay back an old man for his knavery? These stones are no use to these damned!"

I grabbed hold of the man's arm. He let go of the chisel, screaming and flailing as I tried to pull him up.

"Let me go!" he cried out. "I will never give them back!"

"Relax, will you?" I said. "I'm not here to rob you."

The man looked at me and then Mel.

"Who are you?" he said. "A spirit that can touch flesh?"

"My name is Stewart John Jones of Earth." No, I never introduced myself by my full name on Earth, but I was getting used to hearing it the Martian way. It had a nice ring to it. "This is Mel, from the city of Barris."

"I am his wife."

"She is not."

"I am! We were just wedded."

"But we'll be unwedded," I said. "Soon as I rescue Princess Dayla."

The old man shook his head. "What you say cannot be true."

"Why not?" I said. "Martians don't believe in divorce?"

"An Earth man?" He shook his head again. "Impossible. Earth has been dead for generations."

"I beg to differ, pal," I said. "I was just there a few days ago. I'll give you the grunge scene isn't what it used to be, but Earth is doing just fine."

"No, no, no," he said. "That's impossible. Unless..." The old man rubbed his chin, then nodded. "You two should come with me."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"My home is not far. You can find warmth." He looked at Mel's feet. "This one needs coverings on her feet, or she will die."

The old man started up the pathway to the top of the cave. I picked Mel back up and started after him.

"You are not going to follow him, are you?" asked Mel.

I shrugged. "Give me one reason why not."

"He is a Mountain Man," said Mel. "Look at his clothing."

"He's not a Mountain Man," I said. "He's a thief, but he's no barbarian. Besides, I think he might be my wise sage."

"Your what?"

"The wise sage," I said. "Someone with wisdom who offers some good counsel for my journey."

"Are you sure he's not your side stick?" Mel snorted.

"Come on," I told her. "We'll argue more inside."

# CHAPTER TWELVE

A thick fog fell on the three of us as the old man led us to his home about a half a mile walk from the icy walls of the lagoon. Our destination turned out to be a small cave covered by a decrepit, wooden door. Near the entrance of the cave, I saw a fence that seemed to extend into the distance made of huge, wooden rails on posts seven feet tall, leaving me to wonder what it was the fence was designed to keep in (or out). The old man pulled the door of the cave aside, and we went inside.

Despite the rough exterior, the inside was surprisingly cozy. The floors were lined with a number of fuzzy pelts made from the skins of all manner of Martian animals. Most had a reddish hue to them, with some flecks of gray and brown and yellow. The walls were lined with shelves in bad need of repair, each stacked high with trinkets, jewels, doodads, and whatnots. There was a stove in the corner, lit, that gave off a great deal of heat, with a large, bubbling pot on top.

The old man scratched his beard as he turned to us. "Let me see you, young lady." Mel stood still while the old man sized her up. He walked around a corner, then came back with a furry coat and leather shoes.

"Here you go," he said, laying the items before Mel. "This will keep you warm."

"I will not wear those," said Mel, defiantly.

"Suits me fine," said the old man. "But if you don't want to freeze, you'll have to kill and skin you own."

Mel grudgingly put the coat around her to warm up and sat down. The old man found a long duster covered in pelts and handed it to me.

"You need something to cover up as well," he said.

"Thanks," I said.

The old man nodded, then began to empty his pockets onto the shelves, sorting the items in some sort of pattern known only to him. Intrigued, Mel stood up and walked about the room, gazing at the glittering gems and odd baubles on the shelves.

"Did you take all of these?" she asked.

"I never take from anyone who still has use if that is what you are asking," said the old man. "Them folks in the ice long since quit needing them."

"Then you are a thief," she said.

"If I was a thief, why would I be giving to folks like you instead of taking?" the old man took down three bowls and tottered over to the stove. "Like I said, the ice folk have no use for this stuff. And no one else wanted it or someone among the living would have claimed it before letting them go downstream."

The old man ladled some amazing smelling stew from the pot, scooping out two huge bowls full for Mel and me. I didn't bother to ask what it was. I was so hungry I just ate it when the bowl was handed to me. After the old man served himself, he sat down to tell us about his life.

"Forty years, I lived right here. Living off the land and the dead. What the people of the city discard, I claim. They have no right to take the things of this world into the next."

"What do you do with them?"

"I'm a trader," he said. "Like all who have descended from the mountains. We do not rest on the shoulders of giants."

"Giants?" said Mel, alarmed.

"A figure of speech," said the old man, shaking his head. "How sad the king would be to see one of his children so frightened."

"You mean the Mountain King?" asked Mel.

"I mean the rightful king of that city you hail from."

"I am a citizen of Barris."

"Bah!" said the old man with a wave of his hand. "That is no name for a mighty kingdom. Certainly not one that can stand forever. Mark my words, a day will come when that name will be a curse in the land. Pray your city is still standing after that day comes."

Mel ignored him, picking up a large gold bracelet with a round, red stone. The old man stood up and placed his hand on her arm.

"I'd put that one back, if I were you." There was no hint of threat in his voice, or malice. It sounded more like a voice of caution.

Mel slid the bracelet on her arm, glaring back at the old man. "It looks better on me. Besides, you took it from one of my people."

"Your people," he snorted. "Take it. The last thing I want is for anyone to mistake me for me for one of your kind."

"You should be so lucky to be of Barris," said Mel.

The old man laughed, hobbling back to his spot by the stove. "I suppose I would feel the same, if that were where I was raised. Spoiled children, drunken with complacency. The same complacency that led to the destruction of Earth."

That got my attention. "I'm sorry... destruction?"

"Yes," he said. "An entire planet of people who became so self-absorbed, they would not life a finger to help their fellow man. We're half way there ourselves. You saw it yourself in Barris."

"Why are you so hard on my people?" said Mel. "Is it wrong to enjoy life?"

"Certainly not," said the old man. "But when a people become so selfish that no one will sacrifice for his people, it's only a matter of time before someone comes along and destroys all you have taken for granted."

"How long has the Earth been dead?" I asked.

"Oh, a good many millennia," said the old man.

"I don't understand," I said. "If Earth is dead, how did I get here?"

"You tell me," said the old man. "What mode of transportation did you use? Astral projection? Perhaps a flying carpet?"

"It was a flying carpet," I said. "But is it possible to travel through time and space?"

The old man shrugged. "It must be, or else, as you say, you could not have come here. Unless you are a liar."

"You don't seem to have any trouble believing my tale," said Stewart.

"You're not the first Earth man to visit our planet," said the old man. "And to be honest, how you got here, to this time, is not near as important as why."

"It was an accident," I said. "I stepped on the carpet, next thing I knew, I was on your planet, saving her butt from a bunch of Mountain Men."

"Indeed," said the old man. "And now here you are, on some sort of brave quest. At least I assume so. Why else would you dare to cross through the heart of the planet?"

"We're headed for the mountains," I said. "The Mountain King kidnapped my wife."

"She's not your wife," said Mel.

"She is Princess Dayla of Barris," I said. "And she would have been my wife if that hairy beast hadn't shown up with his killer robot."

The old man smiled at me. "So, you're off to rescue the Martian princess." I nodded. "I daresay, before this journey ends, you may very well save the planet. Both of you."

Mel groaned with disgust. "Do I have to?"

"If it is your destiny," said the old man.

Mel rolled her eyes. "He is the man of destiny. Just ask him. I am nothing to him but a side stick."

I ignored Mel's grumblings and asked the big question: "Can you take us to see the Mountain King?"

The old man laughed. "Leave my home? No, never. It is much too far a trek for me, and there are far too many valuables here to leave this place unattended. No, Earth man, I cannot take you, but I will give you direction."

"That's better than nothing."

The old man helped himself to another bowl of stew. "It is not hard to find. To the south, about a half a day's walk, lies a forest. It is a dark place, full of ghosts, not to be tread lightly. If you make it through, you will come to the Valley of the Dead. Once you reach the valley, you will see the mountain of the king."

Mel sat down, facing the old man, a frightened look in her eyes. "Excuse me, did you just say ghosts?"

The old man sipped his stew. "I did say ghosts. Within the woods lies the City of Azul. Once a palace for the royal family of Mars, some say it is haunted by the ancient rulers of Mars and guarded by an army of the dead. Many men have tried to cross through those woods, never seeing the other side."

"What do you say?" I asked.

The old man shrugged. "If it were me, I would not bother to find out."

"Right then," said Mel. "Tomorrow, we head back to the canal and home."

"No," I said.

"I do not wish to die at the hands of ghosts!"

"You won't die!" I said. "If we stay to the path like he said..."

"That is just hearsay," said the old man. "There may be no safe path. For that matter, there may not be any ghosts."

Mel shook her head, but I stood firm. "We're going. We've come too far to turn back. We cut through the woods, down the valley, and boom, we're there. Easy as pie."

"The real question, Earth Man," said the old man, "is not how you will get there. But how you will get your prize. You do have a plan, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said, starting to realize that I had no plan whatsoever for a rescue. "I, uh, I haven't worked that out yet."

"You do not have a plan?" said Mel.

"I'm kinda making it up as I go," I said. "I got us this far, right?"

"You said you knew exactly how this hero's journey is supposed to go!"

"In theory, I do," I said.

"Earth Man, it is well within you to defeat the Mountain King," said the old man. "But if you are to be successful, you must learn how to fight him."

"And how do I do that?"

The old man cast a glance to the front of the cave, where the wind beat hard against the door. "Not tonight. In the morning, you will learn."

# CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sleep was a little harder to come by in the old man's place than it was in the plush palace of Barris. The furs were soft as could be, but they could hardly mask the cold, hard floor beneath us. I found myself missing the tranquil, soft mattress and pillows I had enjoyed while a guest in Prince Orrin's palace.

Despite my discomfort, I managed to get some decent rest that evening. I'd love to tell you that I had prophetic, enchanted dreams of ancient ghosts and spirits of Mars, dancing about and showing me strange signs and wonders, but no... I had the same dream I've had since I was about sixteen, the one where I suddenly find myself in possession of every single action figure and vehicle from the original 1977-1985 run of _Star Wars_ toys. It's funny, but I always find myself to be the saddest and most disappointed when waking up from that dream. Even the pleasant dreams of Felicia that began in eighth grade didn't disappoint me the way the _Star Wars_ dream did. I wonder what Freud would say.

The following morning, I didn't have the opportunity for my usual post-toy dream mourning period. That's because the second I opened my eyes, the crazy old man cracked me in the face with a stick. The blow sent me rolling toward the door, where I staggered to my feet in time to take a flying kick to the chest.

I crashed through the rickety door of the cave and rolled out onto the cold ground. I looked up to see the old man coming at me, a walking stick in his hand and a look of fury in his eyes.

"Look," I said, "Whatever Martian custom I broke, I am really sorry that I—"

The crazy old man cut me off with a series of blows to the ribs.

"Come on, Earth Man!" he shouted, bringing his blasted stick down on my head. "Fight me!"

"Is this my fight lesson?" I asked. A punch in the face was the only reply I got. "Can't we start with wax on, wax off or something?"

He took my feet out from under me with a swing of the stick. "Come on, Earth Man! Are you a warrior or not?"

I backed away, limping and bleeding. "I never said I was a warrior. Did I ever say I was a warrior?"

The old man swung at my head like a fastball over the plate, and nearly took it off my shoulders. I fell flat on my back.

"Well, if you'd give me a weapon or something," I muttered.

"You want a weapon?" The old man swatted me in the face with his staff again. "Come and take it!"

I rolled away, the old man charging after me, and began to run. By this time, Mel had stepped out of the cave to see what was going on, a fur blanket wrapped around her body. "Stewart? What is going on?"

"He's trying to kill me!" I shouted.

"Mel looked at the old man, then back at me. "Is this one of those trials you talked about? Because if it is, I really don't want one of my own!"

I stumbled over a rock and fell spread eagle on the ground. Once again, I rolled to the side just before the old man could crack my skull with his stick. I leapt to my feet and got right in his face.

"What do you want from me?" I screamed.

"I want you to hit me!"

So I did.

I hit him so hard, he flew right off his feet, sailing about twenty yards away before crumpling to the ground in a heap.

No really, that's how it happened.

I rushed over to see if I had killed the old guy. "Are you okay? I didn't expect to... are you okay?"

The old man kicked my feet out from under me. "You still don't get it!" He raced over to the fence, striking the ancient beams with his staff and splitting them apart.

"Destroy the Earth Man!" he shouted.

I could hear the beast before I saw it. At least fifteen feet high, the creature resembled a woolly mammoth with two trunks and six legs. It howled an ungodly sound as it charged out of the gate after me.

"Are you crazy?" I turned and ran for my life, ducking left and weaving right in an effort to stay ahead of the lumbering beast.

The old man just laughed. "Come on, Earth Man! Turn and face your foe!"

"Stop it!" shouted Mel. "If he dies, I will never see my home again!"

"He must do this on his own," the old man said.

The answer wasn't good enough for Mel. She knocked the old geezer on his back and snatched his staff. "Stewart! Here!"

I dodged a strike from the Martian beast's mighty trunks and raced toward Mel as fast as I could. I grabbed the staff on the fly; Mel ducked out of the way before the mighty monster could trample her.

"Stand and fight, Earth Man!" the old man shouted. "Stand and fight!"

I didn't have the courage to turn and face the creature with its tusks and trunks flying at me, but I knew I had to do something. I made a run for the open part of the corral, slowing a bit to let the beast close in on me. As I passed through the fence, I dove to the left. The beast sped right past me. I hopped to my feet, charged in and struck the creature in the rear.

Needless to say I was even more surprised by what happened this time. The creature buckled, howling in pain and tilting up on its mighty head. It did a full somersault in the air, settling on its back with a mighty, anguished groan.

The staff in my hand was broken clean in half. I had nothing to defend myself with if the beast decided it wanted more of me. But as I watched the creature, I began to sense that fighting me was the last thing it ever wanted to do.

The old man walked up to the monster, gently cooing and whispering to it. It was alive, but badly shaken. After a moment, the monster rolled to its side, then staggered back to its feet. The old man patted its side, and the creature trotted off to lie down.

Mel walked up to me, a look of astonishment on her face. "How did you do that?"

"I, uh..." I looked back at the staff, replaying the moment I struck the beast in my head over and over. "That thing, that... what's it called?"

"The cherago?"

"Yeah, the cherago," I said. "Are those things full of air?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when I hit it, it flew up in the air like it was light as a feather."

"Stewart, cheragos are the most dangerous creature on Barsoom," said Mel. "They are beasts of war. No one man has ever..."

The old man walked up to me. "You still do not get it, do you?"

"No," I said. "It's like I have the power of the Force or something."

"It is a force," said the old man.

My eyes widened, my heart raced with unbridled fanboy glee. "It is?"

"Yes," said the old man. "I believe your kind called it gravity."

All of a sudden, I felt like the dumbest guy on Earth. How many feats of strength had I performed effortlessly since arriving here? The Mountain Men when I landed; the Underworlder in the orchard; King Lobo himself had felt the fury of my fists. It wasn't super powers; it wasn't the Force; it was simple, third grade science.

"Your gravity is less than Earth's," I said.

The old man nodded. "On your world, gravity is much stronger. Which means here on Mars, you've got far more power than you ever did on Earth."

"Oh," I said, suddenly a little annoyed. "So instead of beating me up, why didn't you just tell me?"

The old man smiled. "This way was much more fun, don't you think?" He hobbled back to the cave, nursing the bruises I had given him with one super punch to the face. Mel looked at me inquisitively.

"Stewart, what is gravity?"

We had a big breakfast of eggs and some sort of meat that tasted almost entirely unlike sausage while the old man loaded up some food for our journey. When breakfast was over and our food stores were packed, he led me to a small room. Like the rest of the house, the room was full of junk – only the junk in this room included swords, knives, axes, maces, hammers, and every kind of implement of destruction you can imagine. My D&D pals would have died to see such magnificent tools of death.

"A warrior such as you needs a weapon suited to his purposes." He opened a tiny door and pulled out a sheathed sword three feet long. The hilt was covered in red gems, and the handle wrapped in black leather. A giant ruby-like stone sat at the bottom of the handle.

"This," said the old man, "was the sword of John Carter, hero and champion of Mars. Guard it well, and it will guard you in times of trouble and danger."

I felt a lump in my throat. As disappointed as I was that I wasn't really using the Force, beholding the real sword of John Carter was an even greater thrill. I pulled the sword from its sheath. It practically sang as it emerged into the light, gleaming and glinting, its blade sharpened to a deadly edge. "This is quite a gift," I said. "Are you sure it's for me?"

The old man nodded. "Please, take it."

"I will use it with honor." I slid the sword into the sheath and attached the sheath to my belt. Just as I was about to leave the room, the tiny door that had kept John Carter's blade hidden fell open – and about two dozen identical swords fell out. The old man laughed nervously.

"Are you sure this is John Carter's sword?"

The old man shrugged. "Well... in a manner of speaking. He had one just like it."

"But is this HIS sword?" I demanded.

The old man shrugged. "Look, a guy has to earn a living out here. I make a pretty penny off these. Just forget you saw what you saw and go out there and have fun killing the Mountain King.

The old man saw us off, walking us about a mile down the road before parting company. "Stick to the road as you go through the forest," he reminded us. "Do not stray from it, lest you wander into the City of Azul."

"Azul," I said. "Where the ghosts live?"

"It is a dangerous place, Stewart of Earth. No one has ever crossed its threshold and returned alive."

"You said that was all hearsay," I said.

"I also said I wouldn't take the risk to find out."

Mel whimpered a bit. "Why do I get the feeling we will end up there no matter what?"

The old man took her by the arm, looking at the bracelet she had five-fingered from his cave. "Daughter of Mars, I know you came here against your will, but soon, you will find something worth fighting for."

Mel nodded. "I do not think so, but thank you for the food and shelter."

"Good luck to you both," said the old man, turning to head back home.

Mel looked at me. "Must we go on?"

I nodded. "And this time, no fighting," I said. "That's what got us into trouble last time, and I have no desire to make another wrong turn."

"Me either," she said. And off we walked in silence.

# CHAPTER FOURTEEN

It took several hours of walking before we saw any signs that we were on the right trail. The sun rose high in the sky, a cool sun that warmed the air up just enough that we could remove our fur coats. We stopped about noon to eat the lunch the old man had prepared for us, and then we continued on our way.

Mel was silent for most of the journey, contented to play with the bracelet the old man had allowed her to take. "I wonder what it was," I said to her, "and whom it belonged to."

Mel shrugged. "Who ever had it, they do not need it any more, like the old man said."

"True," I said, "but that bracelet has a history. I'm just curious to know what it is."

"You are?"

"Sure," I said. "I love history. I would love to know more about your history. The city, the people, the men who founded Barris. I think it would be very interesting."

I think it would be rather boring," said Mel.

"Not at all," I said. "History tells you a lot about a people. It can teach you valuable lessons too." I thought about the things the old man said about Earth, and how its people died. I was skeptical as to how an old hermit in the wastelands of Mars would know such things, but intrigued nonetheless. I wondered if knowledge of the future could prevent a people from making the mistakes that led to their own doom. Then again, considering how poor the people of Earth were at heeding their past, I doubt future knowledge would have any real impact either.

"Stewart, look!" Mel pointed ahead at a row of treetops just coming into view. "That must be the forest," she said.

"Must be," I agreed. "You ready for this?"

Mel was honest as always. "Absolutely not."

"Ready or not," I said, "it's where we're headed."

Mel sighed deeply. "I am certainly glad we do not do marriage like you Earth people. I could not bear more than a year as your wife!"

"If all goes well, you'll be rid of me in a few days," I said.

The trees grew taller and taller as we walked on, and after a while we began to wonder if we would ever reach the forest. It was nearly sunset by the time the entrance to the forest was in sight, and night was falling before we ever set foot inside.

"Stewart, let us wait," said Mel. "It's too dark to go in there. We can camp out here."

I looked around. "Which is worse, camping out inside the scary forest, or just outside the scary forest?"

I headed into the trees, waiting to see what she would do. She yelled out some sort of Martian expletive, then chased in after me. "Do not leave me, Stewart!"

I smiled at her. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Right away, I knew that I had chosen the scarier option. As ominous as the forest appeared from the outside, it was far more frightening from within. The trees blocked out even the starlight, and all around us was a humming, a buzzing, a rumble of strange noises and sounds that would chill Vincent Price to the bone. Mel clung to me tightly, so tight, I could feel her every inhale and exhale with her chest pressed tightly to my side. I'd always wondered if walking through haunted houses with girls was as cool as the guys who took them made it out to be. Feeling Mel pressed so close beside me, I came to the conclusion that it was even better.

Not that I was the bravest guy in the world tromping through the Forbidden Forest of Mars. Frankly, I was pretty scared myself. But I put on the bravest face I could for Mel. "Well," I said, "This is what I call a Forbidden Forest."

"Are you sure this is safe?" she asked. "I mean, it is called the 'Forbidden Forest.' As in we should not be here."

"This is nothing," I lied. "Back on Earth, people paid twenty, thirty bucks to walk through scary forests like this every Halloween."

"Do your forests have ghosts in them?" she asked.

"Kind of," I said. "A lot of those places hire actors to dress up as monsters and serial killers and zombies. But it's just people in costumes."

"People willingly go to these places where they know there will be people dressed as ghosts to scare them?"

"By the thousands," I told her.

"But these places do not contain real ghosts," she said. "Do they?"

"Uh, no."

The conversation died a cold death right there, and we continued in silence. Our agreed upon truce held well in the darkness of the forest. In fact, we might have made it through without incident if it weren't for one tiny little problem.

About an hour into the forest we came upon a frightening discovery: a split. The path we had followed safely and without incident forked in two directions at a giant, knobby, twisted tree. With the tree cover and the complete lack of celestial light, we were at a loss as to which way to go.

Mel looked at me, desperation in her eyes. "Stewart, what do we do?"

"Relax. We knew we were coming to a fork in the road," I said. "Which way did the old man say to go?"

"He did not say a thing about a fork!" said Mel.

I paused to think. She was right. The old man had said nothing. As if he could hear me, I shouted out loud: "You never said there was a fork!"

"Quiet! The ghosts will hear you!"

That shut me up. We stood in silence for a moment, listening for any sign of ghosts. Finally, Mel whispered: "What do we do?"

"I guess we make a choice."

"What if we choose wrong?"

"Maybe there is no wrong choice," I suggested. "Maybe the wrong choice is getting off the path."

"Or maybe the right choice is to turn around and get out of here."

"Mel, we can't turn back now!"

"Yes we can!"

"Will you pull yourself together?"

"I cannot help it! I'm scared!"

"You know, for someone who doesn't want to be a comic relief sidekick, you're sure acting like one."

Mel slapped me on the arm. "I do not care about being a sidekick! I just want to go home, have some wine, and forget this whole thing ever happened."

"You want to go back? Go. You turn around, and you leave. I'm going to the mountains to save the Princess."

I turned from her and aimed my feet down the left fork, walking away from Mel at a brisk pace. I knew she would chase after me. The girl would never make it on her own. She needed me. Not that I was Chuck Norris or whatever, but this girl made me feel like Chuck Norris.

I stopped about ten feet away, expecting to feel her arms wrap around mine and her breath on my neck again. She didn't come. I waited a moment longer. I turned around.

She was gone!

"Mel?? MEL!!"

I heard a scream in the distance, the sound moving away from me through the trees. I drew out the faux sword of John Carter and raced back to the split in the path. I stopped, listening again for the scream. Seconds later, I heard it again – off in the trees, down the right fork.

Going after her meant going off the path into danger. I didn't want to go, but if I was going to be a hero, what choice did I have? Besides, for all her faults... I kinda liked the ol' ball and chain.

Screaming like a nut, I charged into the trees, racing after Mel. "Mel, where are you?" I shouted. "Keep screaming!!"

Mel sure kept up her end of the deal. I could follow her voice plain as day through the trees. Soon, I could make out shapes in the distance – glowing green shapes, moving away from me at a pretty fast pace. The sound of Mel's screams came again from the glowing green mob. I picked up my pace as best as I could, running faster than I ever had in gym class thanks to the low Martian gravity.

Before I could catch up with whatever was carrying Mel to her doom, I tripped over a low root. As fast as I was running, the bump sent me high in the air, flying at least fifty feet before I landed on my head in a clearing. I pushed up to my feet, grabbed my sword, and had a look around.

Astonished is not even adequate to describe how I felt. In the midst of this giant forest was a clearing wide and deep as two football fields. Right in the center was a pyramid. Not an Egyptian style, mind you, more Mayan or Aztec, with steps ascending maybe 100 feet in the air to the entrance at the top. The green globs were half-way up, Mel held high in the air.

"Stewart, save me!"

The green ghosts disappeared into a door at the top of the pyramid, taking my bride with them. I began to run for the base of the steps, when a sudden burst of light stopped me. All around the clearing, a ring of torches standing eight feet high began to light in sequence. Soon as the last torch lit up, I got a glimpse of what I was up against, as more green figures emerged from the tree line.

They looked human, these ghosts of Mars, glowing green in the dark night. Each one was armored like a Spartan warrior, with a tall, feathered helmets and long spears. Even without the helmets, they all stood at least six or seven feet tall. Despite my newfound talent for super strength in the Martian gravity, the numbers advantage of my opponents had me worried.

The soldiers moved in steadily, closing ranks, their spears all aimed at me. No where to run and no where to hide, I decided my best strategy was to try and bluff my way out.

"Evening, fellas," I said. "Listen, one of your boys grabbed my friend Mel by mistake, and if it's okay with you, I'm just gonna run inside and get her. Won't stay long. Won't touch a thing. Just gonna grab and go. Cool?"

It wasn't cool. The soldiers continued their advance, and I began to deal with the very real possibility that I was about to die on Mars. I was surrounded by more soldiers than I could count, and I had no clue how I would ever get out of this, considering I had never been in a dire situation such as this.

Or had I?

All at once it hit me: Sword and Planet! Only a few days earlier, the day Felicia walked back into my life, I had done battle with a horde of aliens on my Nintendo Wii. True, this was a real life or death situation and not a video game, but the basic concept and fighting skills required to face it were the same. My fear and doubt melted away, and a cool confidence came over me. "Okay boys," I said, holding my weapon in front of me with both hands, "Come get some!"

One soldier broke ranks and charged right for me. I parried his spear with my sword and swung around to strike him in the back. Another soldier bore down on me before I could withdraw my sword. I grabbed hold of his spear, lifted the ghost and his spear in the air, and tossed them into a crowd of ghost soldiers, knocking the whole crew to the ground.

A cry went up from the mob, and I decided it was time to run. I raced for the steps leading up to the pyramid (there was no way through the ghosts to get back into the woods), just missing two spears flung at me from the back of the pack. I turned to fight my way up the steps, swinging wildly with my counterfeit sword and throwing the occasional knockout punch.

When a soldier from inside the pyramid charged down the steps at me, I ducked low and flipped him over my back. He toppled the advancing attack force, sending half a hundred ghost warriors crashing and tumbling down the steps. I turned and hoofed it up the steps as fast as I could go, charging into the pyramid.

The interior had an eerie glow. There were torches along one wall about every five feet, each one emitting the same green glow as the warriors outside. I could make out drawings and paintings on the walls, faded by time, as I rushed down the hall, unable to stop and enjoy the sights in my race to find Mel. The hall turned to the right at regular intervals, and I soon realized I was not only racing around the perimeter, but headed downward. There were no doors anywhere, and no sign of any more soldiers. Several floors down (I assume) I hurdled over a stack of what looked like human bones, piled and strewn across the hallway.

After running for what seemed like forever, I came to a large door on my right that led into an enormous chamber, the ceiling of which stretched up to an opening at the top of the pyramid. It appeared that the entire structure was built around this one room. The outer walls were covered in faded murals and artwork, much like the halls I had just descended. Massive round columns rose from the floor to the ceiling, giving support to the entire building. Each column was surrounded on three sides by suits of armor. There were dozens of them, and no two suits looked alike. Some were simple, like the boys I had battled outside. Some were bulky and elaborate, and some downright scary, with frightening helmets and death masks that seemed to follow you with their metallic eyes.

In the center of the room was a platform about four feet high, on top of which sat the most ominous, fearsome looking throne I had ever seen. The base appeared to me made of the head of a kerrgun, and the seats were covered in skins. A few flecks of gold still cling to the corners and edges of the seat of power. I could only imagine what majestic royalty had ruled this corner of Mars from that very spot.

I could have stood and stared for hours, had not the screaming, angry mob of soldiers given away their approach from the hall. I took position by the door and began cutting them down one at a time as they entered the hall. The strategy worked for a time, but some ingenious soldier a ways up the ramped hallway broke a hole into the chamber, opening a second flank.

I backed into the room, keeping both entrances in front of me, striking right and left. The advancing soldiers kept on coming, backing me up to the center of the room. My back pressed to the platform, I swung viciously, a cornered tiger not willing to go quietly into that dark night and all that poetic stuff.

Suddenly, the soldiers stopped coming. As if in a trance, they all backed away from me, looking upward. They dropped their weapons, and sank to one knee.

A voice rang out in the chamber from behind me: "All bow before the queen of Barsoom!"

I turned and saw two more ghostly figures, wearing long robes and hoods, walking out on either side of the throne. Behind them came a woman, dressed in white, with a crown of jewels on her head. A glint of gold around her wrist caught my eye, and in and instant, I knew who it was.

"Mel??"

My bride looked down at me from on top of the royal platform with a devious smile. "You heard the man. On your knees, Stewart of Earth!"

# CHAPTER FIFTEEN

An eternity passed. The soldiers in the room were motionless, bowed low before the throne in the center of the room. The hooded ghosts stood still on either side, while Mel looked down on me, taking her place on the throne. If she looked good on our wedding night, there are no words for how she looked now. Her hair shimmered in the ghostly light of the torches, and that queenly gown clung to her body in a way that would drive a fan boy forget all about a certain princess and a metal bikini. I looked behind me, then to the two guys in the hoods, then to Mel.

"Well? We are waiting," she said.

"Mel, what's going on?"

She shrugged. "I cannot explain it. I thought for sure I was going to be cut into little tiny pieces. Instead, the brought me down here, dressed me up, and made me their queen."

"Majesty, you do not realize the scope of your kingdom," said the hoodie on the left. "Your dominion extends over all of Barsoom."

I got a glimpse of the old Mel as a look of terror and wonder crossed her face. "The whole planet?"

"Every being on the surface and beneath, all are at your feet," the hoodie said plainly.

I walked over to the ghost. "Can we back up and start from the beginning?"

"I will explain everything to you," said the ghost.

"And can we lose the posse back here?" I nodded toward the soldiers.

"They are the queen's to command."

"Really?" said Mel. "So if I say seize him—"

I didn't have time to react. Four soldiers were on me before she could finish the sentence. "Hey!" I screamed.

The new queen of Barsoom giggled. "I was only testing. Let him go." The soldiers relaxed and stepped back. "Although I really should lock you up and make you think about what you've done to me."

"Me?" I said. "You wouldn't be here without me!"

"Are you yelling at the queen of Barsoom?" she said.

I bit my tongue and let it go. "Sorry. Can we lose the army and someone please tell me what's going on, your majesty?"

Mel smiled. "Soldiers, to your posts." The army was on its feet and back up the hall swiftly. Four stayed behind to take up positions around the throne room.

"Okay, talk," I said to the hoodie on the left.

The ghost removed his hood, revealing a face that was middle-aged at most. His head was shaved, and a light dusting of facial hair surrounded his mouth.

"My name is Smada, and this," he said pointing to the other hooded ghost, "Is Sacul. We were once the chief attendants to the rightful ruler of all Barsoom. This place was once the winter haven for the kings and queens of Mars. In the summer they ruled from the throne now occupied by the so-called Mountain King."

Sacul walked to the mural on the right side wall, touching the surface. The dim colors sprang vividly to life, and a large mountain with a walled city dug into the side appeared on the wall.

"For centuries, all of Barsoom lived in peace beneath the throne of Azul. The good kings and queens of Barsoom ruled with justice from the mountains, and here amongst the trees. And while a barbarian now occupies the mountain, it has been twelve generations since anyone sat on the throne of Azul in this palace."

The image of the mountain morphed into the throne. A beautiful woman appeared beside it. She mounted the platform and took her seat on the throne.

"Queen Hesha was the last good queen, the only daughter of King Leers and the rightful heir. Her reign ended when she was betrayed and murdered by her uncle, a usurper named Barris."

"Barris?" said Mel.

"Wait a minute," I said, interrupting. "I thought he was the great king who built the cities of Mars."

"That," said Smada, "is incorrect."

"No, that is correct," said Mel. "He built the city that bears his name. The prince told us so. I am sure of this!"

Smada looked at me. "History is written by those who survive it. Let me show you how things really were."

The hieroglyphs shifted. This time a man appeared on the throne, a walking staff in his hand.

"Leers and Barris were descendants of Azul the great. At the height of his power, Myra ruled the entire world, above and below ground. He built the great cities that used to dot the land, and he dug the great canals that brought water to all parts of the planet. He was a wise and loving ruler who judged all in fairness."

Around the throne, dozens of Martian men and Underworlders appeared, bowing to their king and leaving gifts at his feet.

"Those are the Underworlders," I said, pointing to the giant bug men.

"Time was the men of the Underworld walked on the surface freely. But then Azul died, and another took the throne.

The image on the wall changed. The old man on the throne was replaced by a younger. The walking staff turned to a sharp-pointed spear.

"The son of Azul, King Myra, lacked the wisdom of his father. What he lacked in wisdom, he made up for in greed. He enslaved the peoples of the mountains, and forced the great green men of the planet to go underground."

The men and Underworlders scattered before the king, who hurled his spear at his subjects. The Underworlders and humans regrouped and banded together, advancing on the throne.

Smada continued. "The oppression of the people of Mars grew to a breaking point. Four generations after Myra, the Mountain Men and Underworlders formed an alliance to overthrow the kingdom. In the tenth year of his reign, King Leers, the great-great grandson of Myra was assassinated."

Another king appeared on the throne. A hairy beast of a man flew into the picture and stabbed the king, who faded into nothingness. Then Queen Hesha appeared once more.

"Queen Hesha, daughter of Leers, did not share the greed and bloodlust of her ancestors. She called for a truce, and arranged to meet with the men from the mountains and the Underworld, hoping to forge a new peace and reunite the kingdom. She called on her uncle, the usurper Barris, and arranged to meet with her enemies in his city.

The throne moved aside, and the familiar site of the palace at Barris appeared. The image zoomed in on the front steps, where a man in white greeted two others: a mountain man and an Underworlder.

"But Barris betrayed Hesha, making a secret accord with the men of the mountains and the Underworld. They agreed to give Barris his own smaller kingdom, and call a truce, in exchange for one thing: the death of Queen Hesha."

The image changed again. This time, I saw Queen Hesha, a wine glass in her hand, standing in the very bedroom I had called home in Barris. She took a sip from the cup, then staggered a bit. The cup fell from her hand, and she fell on the bed.

"On the night she arrived in Barris, Hesha's uncle poisoned her. Sacul and I raced her out of the palace and brought her back here, swiftly as we could, but there was nothing we could do."

Two men appeared on the wall at Hesha's bedside. The next moment, they were on a carpet, and the moment after that, they were beside another bed. Hesha's eyes were closed, but her mouth continued to move.

"In her dying moments, Hesha spoke of one who would come from another realm to reunite the planet. He would free Barsoom, and another queen would sit on the throne."

The colors vanished from the wall, and the image of Hesha on her deathbed remained, dim and faded. Sacul walked back to the throne, while Smada continued.

"After our queen died, we buried her in the depths of this pyramid. Her spirit has kept our spirits alive for centuries, as we waited for the prophecy to come true. And now, at last, the queen's rightful heir has taken the throne."

I looked at Mel, then back at Smada, laughing. "You know, we might be getting ahead of ourselves here. You see, Mel and I were actually on our way to free Princess Dayla from the mountain king. She's the rightful heir to the throne, not Mel."

"Then why does she wear the gem of Hesha on her arm?" said Smada.

"My bracelet?" Mel touched the golden band on her arm. "I just thought it was pretty."

"Hesha commanded us to toss her gem in the heart of the planet, stating that the one who would take her place would find the gem and come here from there."

"But I did not find it there," said Mel. "There was this old guy who had it. He told me not to take it."

"That's right," I said. "So we could just as easily take it with us and give it to Dayla."

"You are not taking my bracelet away and giving it to her!" Mel shouted.

"There is no mistake," said Sacul, breaking his long silence. "Queen Hesha said the next ruler of Barsoom would be a commoner. All the better to rule in justice toward all."

Mel stood up. "Is this true? Am I really the queen? Of Barsoom?"

Sacul and Smada bowed low. Smada spoke up: "Yes, your majesty."

Mel looked at me. She turned and walked down the steps, then came around the throne to face me. She smiled and slapped me on the shoulder.

"Who is the side stick now, Stewart of Earth??"

# CHAPTER SIXTEEN

We spent the night in the pyramid. Mel slept in the lap of luxury, the royal bedroom, while I settled for a cot in the soldier's barracks. I should say what was left of the cot after a few hundred years of disuse and rot. It was an uncomfortable night that offered no relief from the turmoil in my head.

How in the world did Mel become the queen of Mars? This was my story, my adventure! I was the guy swept away from my home planet. I was the one who met and wooed the goddess, the true princess of Barris. If it wasn't for me, Mel wouldn't be on this journey. This _was_ about me, right?

But Mel had taken her own hero's journey, hadn't she? She received a call to adventure, which she refused. She crossed the first threshold, passed through the belly of the whale, walked the road of trials, and gained supernatural aid. And now, she was a queen: _the_ queen of Mars.

Maybe this was one of those cases where historians would be divided. On Mars it would become the epic tale of the Return of the Queen, while Earth people would tell their children's children about the brave traveler, Stewart of Mars.

Before I knew it, the sun was up, and soldiers were tramping so loudly up and down the steps, sleep was impossible. A ghostly valet took me into a dining hall where I ate a surprisingly good breakfast. No clue what it was, except that it was blue and tasted a lot like the grits my aunt in Alabama always made for us.

Following breakfast I was summoned to appear before her majesty in the throne room. Her Jedi-like advisors were standing on either side of the throne, talking with her when she entered.

"How am I supposed to do this?" I heard her grumble.

"You will have help," said Smada.

"You mean him?" I heard her sigh. "I need an army."

"The army cannot leave the boundary of this wood," said Smada.

"But he's just one man," said Mel.

"One man has saved this planet before," Smada assured her.

"But I hate him!" she said.

I cleared my throat. "I hope I'm interrupting something?"

Mel looked at me and sighed. "I have to leave," she said. "We have to leave."

"And go where?" I asked.

"Where do you think?" she said, rolling her eyes. "To the mountains where your goddess is. They say I will be crowned sovereign over the whole planet or something. I would rather just stay here."

"Refusing the return," I said, smiling. The smile evaporated quickly. Refusal of the return was the first step in the third phase of the hero's journey. Holy crap, this adventure really was about her!

Mel stepped down from the throne. "I am only going because these guys say they are about to cross over to the after life for good. It is not for Princess Dayla or your hero quest or any of that stuff."

"I know," I said. "Thank you, Mel."

"Call me your majesty," she demanded.

I bowed. "Of course, you majesty."

After re-filling our food stores, the ghosts led us out of the pyramid. The army was assembled on the steps and around the clearing, standing at attention. Every one of them bowed low as Mel passed. Smada and Sacul followed us to the edge of the woods, where Sacul bid Mel to remove her crown.

"It would not do for you to be revealed too soon, or in the wrong place," he said. "You must protect your identity."

"I thought that was his job," said Mel, glaring at me.

Sacul looked at me sternly. "You must see her safely delivered to the mountain. If anything happens to her, all will be lost."

"I got it, Master Kenobi," I said, not at all pleased with how this was turning out.

Mel and I stepped into the woods. Immediately, the ghosts of the past vanished, and we were alone, looking both ways down a path that stretched through the woods. "Do you know which way we must go?" asked Mel.

"The other side of the forest, right?" I said.

"And which way is that?"

"You're the queen," I said. "You tell me."

"You've forgotten our way?" she shouted.

"Sorry, I got a little sidetracked when you were abducted by the jolly green ghosts of the woods." I chose a direction and started to walk, setting a brisk pace. Mel chased after me.

"There could be dangers" said Mel. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

"We've already met the danger of the forest," I said. "What else is there to fear?"

What a stupid, second banana sidekick thing to say.

I heard a snap, crackle, and then a loud "AIEEEEE!" behind me. I spun around, my imitation sword of John Carter held aloft, ready to face whatever danger had snagged her royal highness this time only to see she was already gone. There was no sign of her left, right, or any other direction, and no clue where she had gone.

Actually, there was a clue. I just didn't see it until I had stepped in it myself.

The ground had opened up just beneath Mel's feet, dropping her (and then me) down a long, winding tunnel into the Underworld. I don't know how long it lasted, nor how far down we fell. The only thing I remember is tumbling to a halt at the bottom just before one of those blasted, giant bugs cracked my in the skull with a club.

# CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My first memory of the Underworld was not a sight or a sound, but a feeling, a throbbing feeling in my left temple. I was afraid to open my eyes and give myself a better sense of my surroundings, but remembering my quest (and my newly found status as a second banana), I opened my eyes and glanced up.

"It is about time, Stewart!" I recognized the voice of my queenly wife immediately. No, this was all still real. Or still a dream, if that were possible. I was on the floor of a cell, my mouth half full of dirt and dust. I coughed and spat a moment, then began to push myself to my feet.

That was when I noticed the smell.

"We're not alone are we?" I said. Turning, I saw there were half a dozen Mountain Men enslaved with us. Seated at the far right, nearest the cell door, was my old friend Grimnaught.

"Fancy seeing you here," I said.

"What are you doing so far from Barris, Earthman?" said the proud warrior.

"Funny thing," I said. "I was on my way to kill your king and reclaim my bride."

"Impossible," said Grimnaught. "You could never destroyed Lobo. Now that you are here, you will never see the light of day again."

"Hey, give a guy a chance," I said. "We'll be out of this soon."

Grimnaught shook his head. "We are all as good as dead."

"Yeah?" I said, staggering to my feet. "Why is that?"

"The King of the Underworld will kill us all."

"Not me, pal," I said. "And not my friend over there. It's impossible."

"Why do you doubt?"

I winked at the fuzzy-faced freak. "Just trust me, amigo."

It was at that moment that I made a remarkable discovery: the fake sword of John Carter lay on the ground on the opposite end of the cell. I remembered having it out in my hand when I fell down the rabbit hole, and I was very surprised to see it had not been taken from me.

Pointing at the sword, I turned to Grimnaught. "Did you see that?"

Grimnaught looked, then looked away. "My kid has one of those."

"Did anybody think to pick it up and cut us an escape route?"

"Why would we do that, Earthman?" said Grimnaught. "We are caught. They have won. And we will soon be deceased."

"Really?" I said with disbelief. "You just roll over and quit? That's how you do things?" I looked over at Mel. "You have more in common with her people than you know."

I flipped the sword in the air and rapped on the bars. "Hey, green guys, let's go! I have an appointment to kill the Mountain King, and you're slowing me down."

A hissing green bug monster made its way down to our cell. Seeing the sword flash in my hands, it reached in to grab it. I smacked the bug's limb with the flat part of the blade. "Come on, ugly. Make with the keys and let us out."

The creature snarled and hissed. Some saliva dripped from its mouth.

"Do you understand English?" I said. "Or whatever I happen to be speaking right now? Come on, open the door!"

The creature clicked and hissed at me. Frustrated, stupid American pig that I am, I got impatient and drew back my sword, plunging it forward into the green beast as Grimnaught screamed out, "No not him!!"

The bug gurgled and hissed as my sword ripped it open. It staggered back and fell, the belt with the keys to our cell just out of reach.

"Yeah," I said. "Did not think that one through."

"And now we are all dead!" said Grimnaught.

"Weren't we already dead, Mr. Glass Is Half Empty?" I said to him.

"Do you see the gold emblem on his head?" I looked down, and yes, the creature did have a large golden band around its cranium. "He is a member of the royal line. You killed the Queen's son!"

"You know," I said to the mountain man, "Instead of criticizing all the time, you could get involved here. Maybe warn me a little sooner next time I decide to assassinate a prince or something?"

A rumble echoed down the dark passageway, and flickering lights appeared in the distance. Somehow, someone already knew that the prince was dead, and they were coming for vengeance.

"Stewart!" shouted Mel. "I cannot die here! Remember who I am?"

"Yeah," I said. "And I seem to recall mention of your predecessors having good relations with these people. So how about you hop up here and negotiate?"

"Fine," said Mel. "I will start by giving them you."

I could see the angry green mob advancing down the hall. Mel cowered in a corner. The Mountain Men sat stoically, awaiting their fate.

"Some warriors you are," I said. "You were outnumbered a hundred times in Barris, yet you come walking in like you're not afraid of anything."

"In Barris, we are feared," said Grimnaught.

"In the Underworld," I said, "I will be feared."

The leaders of the Underworlder mob stopped to examine their fallen prince before turning to me. I heard clicks, grunts, and hisses throughout the crowd. Then, the bugs parted, and a huge bug stepped to the fore.

"The queen," said Grimnaught. He seemed neither impressed, nor afraid.

Mel spun to face Grimnaught. "How did you know—"

I clapped my hand over her mouth. "Hush, your worship. Don't give it up so soon."

The monstrous bug on the other side of the bars growled at me. Grimnaught and his brave companions trembled. "Have mercy on us, your majesty, queen of the Underworld."

"The queen, huh?" I held my sword high. "Get in here, you old bag! I'll take you down Ripley style!"

The queen pulled out a sword twice the size of mine, with a glittering hilt of platinum and a ruby the size of a softball at the base of the blade. She struck the lock on our cell, splitting it in two. The door swung wide, and the queen bore down on me.

Confident in my own strength, I pulled back with my blade and swung at the queen. She swung her blade to meet mine – and cut my cheap, imitation John Carter blade right in half.

"Oh."

The queen screeched at me, backing me up against the stone wall at the rear of our cell. I looked over at Grimnaught. "A little help here, guys?!"

Grimnaught looked away, no expression in his face. The furry coward.

"Well, then," I said to the queen. "You took my sword? I'll take yours."

I swung my fist at the queen's abdomen, cracking it like the shell of an egg. She howled, loosening her grip on the blade. I seized it from her hands and chopped her in half, right down the middle.

The bugs took a few seconds to react to the death of their queen and charge at me. I cut three more down very quickly, kicking their swords over toward the Mountain Men as I chopped away.

"You boys wanna see the light of day again?" I shouted. "Grab a sword and start chopping!"

Pulling Mel to her feet, I led her out into the corridor, where we began hacking out way through the army of bugs. Mel shrieked and screamed as bug parts came flying back at her. It was a disgusting mess, and hard work, despite the super-strength I possessed beneath the Martian sun.

We might not have made it if Grimnaught and his boys had remained on their perch. Thankfully, something awakened in the terrible warriors, and they joined us in our fight for survival.

"Good to have you along!" I shouted at Grimnaught. "Like the sword?"

"That," he said, decapitating a green warrior, "Is the sword of Azul. It was stolen from the rightful king of Mars many years ago by the Queen's predecessor!"

I gave the blade a cursory glance before driving it into the gut of another Underworlder. "How do you know that?" I asked.

"We were sent to recover it," said Grimnaught. "For my master."

"Uh huh," I said. "So your master sent you on a suicide mission."

"He did."

"And I bet if you had found the sword, you had other plans rather than handing it over, didn't you?"

Grimnaught gutted another Underworlder before flashing me a smile. "No king rules forever."

We drove the bugs out of the prison hallway, only to find ourselves on a ledge overlooking a vast chamber. There were dozens of Underworlders lying dead in our wake; there were thousands, maybe millions below, all looking up at us with blood in their eyes.

"You have an exit strategy, Earthman?" said Grimnaught.

"We find the door and we exit," I said.

That exit was above us, accessibly by a shallow ladder cut into the wall. Pushing Mel ahead of us, the Mountain Men and I fought off the Underworlders to give her a head start before we climbed after her. One of the Mountain Men fell wounded during the bloody battle. Grimnaught slung him over his shoulder and began to climb upward. I let the other Mountain Man go ahead of me, choosing to bring up the rear.

The Underworlders gave us chase, climbing dozens of ladders along the walls in an attempt to cut us off. One green monster grabbed on to the Mountain Man ahead of me, causing him to lose his grip and fall to a splattery death below. Grimnaught and I continued to swing away with our swords until we made it clear of the cavern.

Mel was already way ahead of us, running and screaming across the Martian plain. Grimnaught and I stopped, glancing down the hole.

"I will stop them," said Grimnaught. He pulled a small canister out of his cloak, pulled out a pin, and dropped it in the hole. He then grabbed my shoulder, pulling me and his wounded companion to safety before the hole exploded and caved in on itself.

"You had a bomb this whole time," I said.

Grimnaught nodded.

"And you didn't use it to escape?" I shook my head. "What is wrong with you people?"

Grimnaught tried to revive his companion, but he was long gone by the time we stopped to catch our breath. Grimnaught gazed ay my sword with greedy eyes.

"If only I had found it before you," he said. "My men would not have died in vain. Now, I must wander the wastelands, an outcast."

"You mean you cannot go home?" asked Mel. She had a look of empathy for him in her eyes that, frankly, made me mad.

"Lobo will send me to the arena," said Grimnaught. "It is the price of failure. Better to wander alone than face the arena. Those who survive the beasts are destroyed by Brutus.

I looked down at the fallen Mountain Man. A plan formed in my head and I began to smile. "Maybe there is a way to get you home," I said.

# CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

A day later, my goal was in sight. Grimnaught pointed out the peak of the Mountain King's domain just after sunrise. I reached up to feel the stubble on my face: barely a few days growth, hardly enough to pass for a Mountain Man. I could only hope the smelly, sweaty clothing of the deceased warrior would be enough to get me into Lobo's throne room.

Grimnaught walked beside me, with Mel behind him in chains. The plan was to pass her off as a gift for the king, along with the sword strapped to my side. I was going to let Grimnaught pretend to hand it over to Lobo, but I was not about to let him carry it into the mountain!

By early afternoon, we had reached the gate of the Mountain Kingdom. Recognizing Grimnaught, the guards called for the door to open. We stepped into the crowded streets. There were thousands living here in very cramped conditions. All eyes turned to examine the three of us, but most turned away, hiding their faces in fear.

"Is everyone always this nervous when you come home?"

"The king keeps his people in line through fear," said Grimnaught. "It is the only way so few can manage so many."

"He's not afraid that his people might rise up against him?"

"No one has so much as said a word against the Mountain King and lived."

"Except me," I reminded him.

"I am only doing this because you saved my life," said Grimnaught. "When you fall at Lobo's hand, I will draw your sword and kill him. Then I will rule."

"Look, I'm only here for the princess," I said. "I'm not interested in your politics."

"I am," said Mel. "After all, I will be ruling this kingdom before too long."

Grimnaught looked back at her and laughed. "A woman on the throne. Ha!" Through the scorn and sarcasm, I caught the longing glance as he turned and sized up my bride-for-the-moment. Really, Grizzly Adams? You and Mel? She could do better.

What did I care anyway?

The palace door was at least fifty feet high, forged by some ancient, long forgotten tools out of what appeared to be two giant slabs of solid black rock. At the guards' command, two teams off four kerrguns were set into motion, pulling the massive, creaking chains that opened the doors. We entered slowly.

The palace looked very much like the image I had of Valhalla when I discovered Norse mythology in seventh grade. There were huge columns rising up to meet the arched ceiling. I saw faded murals on the walls much like those I had first seen in Barris. Iron cages hung from the ceiling, some containing skeletons, some containing the exoskeletons of the Underworlders. A few bodies lay on the floor rotting, victims of either a king's rage or too much partying.

At the end of the hall, a great throne sat on a raised platform. Lobo sat there in a drunken stupor, a few concubines and soldiers around him. His eye was drawn to the sword attached to my belt.

"Greetings, my king," said Grimnaught.

"I see you have brought me my prize," said Lobo. He seemed uneasy, a bit nervous. Grimnaught was right. The king had not expected to see his lieutenant alive again. The king's eyes drifted toward Mel. "Have you brought me a little bonus?"

"I have, my king," said Grimnaught.

Lobo motioned to Mel. "Let her approach."

It was my cue. Dramatically, I reached down to fling the skins from my body – and I got stuck. I wrestled with the skins feverishly, struggling to pull them off my body. Frustrated, I pulled out the Sword of Azul and split it open with the blade. Mel shook her head in disbelief. I turned and faced Lobo.

"Hey, Lobo. What's going on?"

Lobo leapt to his feet and roared at Grimnaught. "What is the meaning of this? Grimnaught, you traitorous dog! You would bring this worm here?"

"Humblest apologies, my lord. But this worm here owns my life. He saved me from the Underworlders."

"Why would he do this?"

"Because he was too unmotivated to do it himself," I said. "Seriously, you Martians need to learn a little something about self-preservation."

"So now you come here? To my kingdom? Why?"

"I dunno, Lobo," I said. "Maybe it was your magic smile, or the way you make me laugh. No, no, I remember. You stole my girl, you wart hog!"

"If it is Princess Dayla you want, that is quite impossible," said Lobo. "By the treaty of Barris, she is my prize. My bride. But since you have saved the life of my trusted friend, I will spare yours. Content yourself with that wench and leave me be!"

"Wench!" shouted Mel. "Do you know who I am?"

I pushed Mel back and shushed her, then turned back to Lobo.

"Sorry, your ugliness, but I'm not leaving without Dayla. I've been down the River of Death, through the heart of the world, slept in the ghost palace in the woods, and slain the queen of the Underworld. You want to stand in my way? You just try me."

"Impossible!" shouted Lobo.

I pulled out my sword and gouged it into the floor. "See this? You can't get one of these out of a crane machine at the mall."

"Is this true?" said Lobo. "The Earthman recovered my prize?"

Grimnaught nodded. "It is."

Lobo smiled. "Very well. You have brought me the object of my desire, so I will let you see the Princess. And as I am a fair minded man, I will let you take her from my palace – if she will go with you."

I sensed it was a trick, but I was willing to play it out. "All right then. Bring on the princess."

Lobo nodded to his guards. Two of them walked off the platform and out a door to the left of the throne. He sat back and put his hands together. There was no fear, no concern in his eyes, which were locked on Mel.

"Grimnaught," said Lobo. "Who is this enchanting beauty?"

"She is of the city of Barris."

"Do you find her attractive?"

Grimnaught looked at Mel. "She pleases the eye."

"She is yours, if you like. I do not fancy her so much."

"Excuse me?" said Mel. "You are rejecting me?"

"Mel, this is not the time," I said softly.

"Well that time better get here quick," she whispered. "I'm not taking that from the guy on my throne!"

The side door opened again, and Dayla entered the room. A rush of nerves ran through my gut as she strode into the hall, right up to me. She was still dressed in white, her hair and makeup flawless, but her eyes seemed empty. She turned and bowed to Lobo.

"What does my king bid?" she said.

"This young man has come to visit you," said Lobo. "I believe you two know each other?"

"Yes," said Dayla, robotically. "He is familiar."

"A little more than that I hope," I said. I smiled, but she did not smile back. Something was wrong.

"He claims to have a right to you," said Lobo. "Is this true?"

"He is mistaken," said Dayla.

"No, I'm not," I said, stammering, unsure what else to say.

"You are."

"You were supposed to be my bride," I said. "Back in Barris? Remember? Before Scary Face here stole you away?"

"That cannot be," said Dayla. "I belong to the king of the mountains."

I couldn't believe my ears. Was she serious? "Dayla, what's happened to you? We were in love, remember? I won your heart long before I drew your name."

"No. It was Lobo who won my love."

The vicious brute on the throne chuckled. I grabbed Dayla by the arm to pull her aside. Two of Lobo's guards made a move toward me, but Lobo called them back.

"Let him have his moment," he said. "He needs to say goodbye."

I pulled Dayla away, out of earshot of the king and his men.

"Dayla, come to your senses! Do you really want to stay with him?"

"I do."

"You don't know what I've been through for you," I said. "I've been through the River of Death, the Heart of the World, a ghost town, and even the Underworld, all so I could get to you. I'm not leaving without out you."

"You must!"

"I can't!"

"He will kill you if you stay here!" She cracked, letting her true feelings out. It was only a moment, but all I needed to steel my resolve in spite of her pleas.

"Stewart, you must forget about me. Be content with your bride, and never think of me again."

She turned away and walked to the platform, taking her assigned place beside Lobo. I could feel Mel's eyes, full of sympathy and pain, as I walked back to my sword.

"Please, do not take it so hard," said Lobo. "You are welcome to stay here as my guest. Stay as long as you like. If you do choose to stay, I will make you a general under my command. Small consolation for the loss of a prize so rich, but it's the least I can do."

I yanked the sword out of the floor. "Sorry, highness, but I can't accept. I came here for Princess Dayla. It doesn't matter much to me if she comes willingly or over my shoulders kicking and screaming. I'm not leaving here without her."

Lobo eyed the sword, nervously. "And how do you intend to take her?"

"You see this Martian toothpick here? I figure I'll use it to persuade you."

I charged for the throne, but only made it two steps closer. A trap door opened beneath me and swallowed me whole. I fell with my sword into a dark dungeon. I could hear Lobo cackling above as I looked up. Mel and Grimnaught joined him at the mouth of the hole, looking down on me.

"You think you can hold me forever?" I shouted.

"I don't intend to try," said Lobo. "Tomorrow, you will die in the arena. Keep the sword for now. I'll take it off your cold, dead body myself."

The lid on my cell sealed me in darkness, and I was alone.

Yeah, didn't see that coming.

# CHAPTER NINETEEN

I can't really compare prison food on Mars to prison food on Earth, being that I've never been in prison on Earth, but I can compare my "last meal" to one I had at the hospital when my mom was in for a hernia operation. It rated fairly well. The meat was warm, the vegetables crisp, and the drink had some flavor to it. It wasn't a night at Chili's by any stretch of the imagination, but it sure beat the junk they fed us in high school.

Following my meal, I was led to a holding area. A Mountain Man named Hurk introduced himself. The Underworlder imprisoned with us didn't speak our language, so I decided just to name him Tars. Both men, like me, had weapons. I was informed that it was customary to let warriors die with their chosen weapons in hand in the area. Very sporting, right?

"So what happens out there?" I asked Hurk. "We duke it out with wild Martian monsters?"

"No monsters," he said. "We will duel with each other until there is a winner."

"And what does the winner get?"

"A most painful death," he said gravely.

"What, no title belts? No cash prize?"

"We have offended the Mountain King," said Hurk. "We should be thankful that he is merciful enough to allow us to die like warriors."

"I'd still rather have a title belt," I said. I looked over at the giant Underworlder, sharpening his curved blade. He looked up at us and hissed.

"What's he in for?" I asked.

"He tunneled into the king's palace and tried to assassinate him."

I nodded. "And you?"

Hurk grinned. "I tried to catch a glimpse of Queen Dayla when she was bathing."

I kept my cool, nodded, smiled, trying to decide how quickly and painfully I would make him die for looking at my girl naked.

My Dayla, my poor, captive princess, sitting next to Lobo. And what about Mel? What had happened to her since we were parted? Last I saw her, that hairy beast Grimnaught was pawing at her with his lustful eyes. And she was making eyes at him! What did she see in that guy? And why, again, did I care? I knew I was in love with Dayla, so it couldn't be jealousy. But she could do better than him, right?

My mind flitted back and forth between Dayla and Mel until our appointed hour of destiny arrived. The guards removed us from the holding cell and led us out to the entrance ramp leading into the arena. There we stood, an Earthman, a Mountain Man, and an Underworlder, looking on the killing floor surrounded on all side by screaming, bloodthirsty spectators. I adjusted my grip on my sword as I tried to spot my girls. There was Dayla, in the royal box, sitting beside Lobo. I could imagine the turmoil in her heart, wondering if her champion would live to see another day.

Not too far away was Grimnaught, seated right next to Mel. Mel looked nervous; and I was surprised to see Grimnaught looking anxious as well. Did he have some card to play here? Clearly he had ambitions for the throne. What was he waiting for? Could helping him be the key to getting out of this alive?

A horn sounded. The crowd roared. Lobo stood up and proclaimed: "Let the battle begin!"

The gate rose. Hurk raced out into the arena. I heard a sickening squish behind me. I turned to see that Tars had just spilled both of our guards' intestines on the floor. As the big bug wiggled his weapon out of their bloody carcasses, I raced out into the arena. Hurk came charging at me, screaming with rage. I sidestepped his blow and lifted my foot straight into his crotch. He tumbled about six times before crashing into the wall, wailing in pain.

"That's for peeping at my lady!" I shouted at him.

I felt a sharp buggy limb grasp my shoulder. I grabbed the limb, intending to flip the Underworlder over my shoulder. Instead, the limb came off in my hands, green guts shooting out of the wound where the limb was once attached to Tars. He hissed and writhed in pain.

"Aww, did I hurt the little bug?"

I swung my sword into the bug's gut, cracking him wide open. He fell to the turf, dying.

With my back turned, Hurk made another move to attack me, but he telegraphed his position by screaming once again. Unable to dislodge my sword from the bug, I turned and caught the warrior in a bearhug. I spun his body upside down and dropped to my knees, driving his head into the dirt. I heard a tiny whimper along with a sickening crack. I released my grip and the warrior's body slumped to the turf, lifeless.

I pulled out my sword and ran over to Lobo's box, shouting to Dayla:

"Tombstone pile driver. Learned that one from the Undertaker!"

Lobo stood and shouted, "Release the death squad!" Another gate opened and six huge warriors entered the arena. I turned around and lifted my sword, preparing to take them out.

Quick lesson for any of you gangs, attack squads, or death squads out there: don't stand around, taking turns battling the hero one on one. Move in and kill him together.

The first guy came at me with a spear. I side-stepped his blade and cut his head off as he passed.

The second guy came in swinging his sword wildly from side to side. I parried a few of his blows before sweeping the leg Cobra Kai style, landing him flat on his back.

Attacker number three came in with a sword held loosely in his right hand. I knocked it free with one swing of the Sword of Azul. Dumbfounded, the third man looked at me in terror. I kicked him in the gut, spun around, cradled his chin with the inside of my arm, and dropped to the turf. The warrior's head snapped forward, then back, flipping him over twice before he landed unconscious on the ground.

I raced back over to Dayla.

"Stone Cold Stunner, Stone Cold Steve Austin."

A fourth death squad member nearly cut my head open with his sword while I was showboating. I ducked his blade and kicked his legs out from under him. The guy fell onto his own sword and screamed as he died in front of the royal box.

"Finish him!" shouted Lobo. "Finish him now!"

The second attacker was back up. He drew his sword along with the remaining death squad members and charged single file.

"Big mistake, boys," I said.

I rolled across the ground toward the spear the first attacker had dropped, flipped the spear in the air with my foot, and impaled all three soldiers with it. They died on their feet, leaning against one another, strung together by the giant spear.

Casually, I walked back to the royal box.

"Shish-kebab challenge," I said coolly, "Throwdown with Bobby Flay."

Dayla hid a smile while Lobo began to laugh. I heard a low murmur start in the crowd. I stepped back, listening, trying to discern their words, which sounded a lot like a Japanese wrestling crowd.

"Oooh ahh, oooh ahh, oooh ahh."

I strolled over to where Mel sat beside Grimnaught and leaned over toward the secret queen of Mars. "I think they're calling my name."

"No, Stewart," said Grimnaught. "Those cheers are not for you."

Another gate rolled open, and a mechanical monster entered the arena. The chanting grew louder, and I recognized the name on everyone's lips.

"Brutus! Brutus! Brutus!"

"Oh," I said to Grimnaught. "Him."

The robot bore down on me, its mechanical voice booming, "Destroy Earth Man! Destroy Earth Man!"

The crowd went crazy. I raced to the center of the ring, sword drawn. "All right, you walking, talking B-movie cliché. Come and get what's—"

The robot lifted one of its mechanical arms and fired a blast of lightning at me. It hit me square in the chest, sending me crashing into the walls. It hurt, but I could still move. The crowd cheered even louder. I pulled myself up and raised my blade again.

"Okay! Now I'm really mad!"

Brutus blasted me again, this time with a more controlled blast that he used to lift me off my feet. He spun me around a few times and hurled me across the arena. I crashed just in front of Mel and Grimnaught.

"How am I doing?" I said.

"You are losing!" said Mel.

"No, no," I said. "It's rope a dope. I'm just wearing him down."

"Brutus is a machine. Brutus does not wear down, Earthman," said Grimnaught.

"Right," I said. "Any advice?"

"Try not to die," said Mel.

"Do or do not," I said. "There is no—"

Another shock of lightning bounced me off the wall, then flipped me in the air toward other side of the arena. The crowd went wild as I crashed into the wall yet again.

Brutus turned to me. Blurred as my vision was, I could see the dials and levers clicking and whirring away underneath that glass dome on top of his head. "Duh, Stewart." I climbed to my feet and motioned to the robot. "All right, C-3PO. Let's end this."

Brutus fired another blast my direction. This time I was read, leaping up and to the right, allowing the Martian gravity to carry me safely away. Brutus turned and fired again. This time, I leapt forward and left, moving closer to the robot. The crowd oohed and ahhed. Brutus fired again. This time I went straight up and at him. I misjudged the distance and was unable to strike with my sword, so I brought my right elbow down on the glass dome instead, shattering it to pieces.

I hit the ground and rolled away, spinning and preparing for another blast. The robot still faced away, silent. The crowd looked on, silent. I relaxed a little, catching my breath, and then noticing the pain throbbing in my elbow.

I twisted my arm for a better look. The entire elbow was covered in glass and blood.

"That's gonna leave a mark."

The next second I was knocked off my feet by a terrible explosion. Brutus blew up, sending shards of metal and glass flying everywhere, even into the crowd. I picked up a few more scrapes and nicks from the explosion, but was still alive. I stood to my feet, sword in hand, and turned to Lobo.

The chanting began again. It sounded the same, but this time, there was no mistaking who the cheers were for.

"Stewart! Stewart! Stewart! Stewart!"

Lobo stood in rage.

"Enough! The fun is over, Earthman! There is only one of you. One, versus an entire city. You cannot defeat us all!"

"Like I said before," I shouted back, "I'm not here to fight you or your people. I just want the girl."

Dayla smiled at me, the same way she did on our almost wedding night. I knew there was no fear in her mind about leaving the mountain now.

Lobo snarled, leaning over the wall of his box. "You dare to test the will of the king of the mountain?"

"Sorry, Lobo," I said. "I answer to a higher authority." I pointed toward Mel. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the rightful heir to the throne of Azul, the queen of Barsoom!"

The people gasped. Mel shook her head at me. "No! What are you doing?"

"It is time, your highness."

Mel stood up and took the crown out from her robes. She hesitated, her fear of Lobo causing her to pause. But then Grimnaught stood, took the crown from her hands, and shocked everyone.

"Allow me, your majesty," he said like a smooth-tongued devil.

The mountain warrior placed the crown upon her head. The crowd gasped in awe as Grimnaught bowed before her and shouted:

"All hail the queen of Barsoom!"

The people began to bow, turning toward Mel, shouting out, "All hail! All hail! All hail!" Lobo looked terrified. He screamed at Grimnaught.

"Traitor! You will die for your insurrection!"

With the king's back turned, I made my move. I leapt up into the royal box and landed right beside him.

"You'll have to go through me first!"

I grabbed Lobo by the head and lobbed him over mine, tossing him half way across the arena floor. I leapt off the railing and gave him a flying kick to the face. Then I scooped him up in a body slam for good measure. Lobo crumpled, broken and beaten. I'm pretty sure I heard him whimper a little.

I turned to face the mob, victorious. "People of the mountain, long live your queen!"

"Stewart look out!!!"

It was Dayla who shouted the warning. I turned just in time to dodge Lobo's knife. His momentum carried him forward, over my shoulder. I kicked the knife out of his hand, caught it in mid-air and threw it straight down into his heart. He gurgled a bit, but then his body relaxed, never to move again.

"As I was saying." I walked over to the royal box, where Grimnaught had led Mel. "There's a new queen in town. The crown of Azul has returned to its rightful throne."

The people bowed humbly. Mel smiled awkwardly, taking the seat vacated by the wicked Lobo.

Dayla leaned over the railing toward me. "What is going on? Where did she get that crown? Did you get one for me too?"

"I'll tell you everything on the way home," I said. I grabbed Dayla and slung her over my shoulder. Grimnaught turned to me.

"I'm taking my bride home. Do you mind?"

Grimnaught turned to the queen, to Mel, who had a somber look in her eyes. "It's what you wanted, Stewart. Go."

The mountain folk cheered as I turned to make my getaway. I was surprised to feel an emptiness, a sadness at leaving Mel behind. I suppose it was only natural. We had been through a lot together. But I was with my princess now, so none of that really mattered, right?

Racing out of the arena, I paused to ask directions as to where I might find a carpet to take us back to Barris. A very hairy, bearded woman with a charming disposition directed us to a deck high up in the palace. Like the back porch of the palace at Barris, the deck was covered with flying carpets. It took us a few tries, but Dayla and I found the one to take us home. We soared off the deck over the red landscape of Mars into the Martian sunset.

"Steward," said Dayla, "How did that common girl get to be queen?"

"Well," I said, "It all started when I woke up with her as my bride instead of you."

# CHAPTER TWENTY

The story of my journey with Mel took up most of the flight back to Barris. We flew through the night and landed in Barris early the next morning. Dayla was flattered by my love for her, and she loved me for it. But she just couldn't let the queen thing go.

"I thought a person had to be a princess to become a queen."

"That's usually how it goes," I said. "At least it is on Earth."

"Then how did she become queen?"

"She found some magic bracelet," I said. "Well, not magic, but a special bracelet that someone long ago talked about in a prophecy. So when the ghosts took us into the pyramid, she was crowned queen."

"How strange," said Dayla.

"I thought so too," I said. "In fact, I was really worried that her being queen would have lowered my status as a hero and jeopardized my being able to rescue you."

Dayla frowned, still lamenting her status as a mere princess. "Do you fancy her?"

The question took me by surprise. "What?"

"Did you ever consider that you might be with her instead of me?"

"I was with her," I said. "Well, I was never WITH-with her, but we were married. She was all mine. And I chose to come and get you."

"Do you regret it?"

I rolled my eyes. "This is what I wanted, Dayla. You are all I've wanted since I got to this lousy planet. After all I've been through, can you really doubt my love for you?"

Dayla shrugged. "Perhaps I am no longer good enough. After all, I am not the queen."

I put my arms around her. "Come on, you don't want to be queen," I said. "Do you know what a queen has to do? Work!"

The frown turned to a look of disdain. "Work?"

"Yes."

"Princesses do not work."

"You certainly don't," I said.

"I could be a queen who does not work," suggested Dayla.

"Listen to me," I said. "I don't care of you're a queen or a princess or just a common servant girl. I love you, and I want to spent he rest of my life loving you."

"I would like to spend the rest of my life queen," said Dayla.

It was something of a relief when we finally arrived back in Barris. Dawn had broken, and the people of Barris were going about their usual morning business – lying around and doing nothing. The carpet soared over the canal, just above the water in what had to be an impressive sight, yet hardly anyone looked up to acknowledge us. They just sat there, dead in the eyes, sipping their wine.

The carpet landed near the foot of the palace. I stepped off first and chivalrously assisted Dayla. Proudly, I proclaimed: "People of Barris, I have returned with your princess, just as I said I would!"

The people said nothing. All except one guy, whom I couldn't see, who whispered, "I thought she belonged to the Mountain King."

"The Mountain King is dead," I said. "There's a new queen on the throne. And your princess is home."

Again, not even a hint of joy.

"That's right," I said. "The throne of Azul is now occupied by a new queen of Barsoom." Nothing. "She used to be one of you." Nada. "It's pretty cool."

I suddenly found myself missing the passion and fire of the people on the mountain.

"Come on, people," I said. "Isn't anyone here happy to see us?"

At the top of the palace steps, Orrin appeared with a few members of his entourage. He saw us, rubbed his eyes, then made his way down the steps.

"Stewart Stewart John Jones," he said. "And my sister, Dayla. I thought for sure neither of you would ever return."

"Well, you were wrong," I said.

"How can this be?"

"Do not get him started, brother," said Dayla. "It is a long and boring tale."

Undaunted, I proceeded to tell Prince Orrin the short, short version. "Prince, I have been to the mountain of the Mountain King Lobo. I won the princess of Barris in the arena, defeating the robot Brutus. Now Lobo is dead, a new queen is on the throne of Mars, and the princess has come home."

"You were right," said Orrin. "Much too long a story for this early in the day. Perhaps you can tell me again this evening when I am ready to fall asleep."

I grabbed Orrin by the arm before he could leave. "Before you retire for your first morning nap, I have one question. Do you think I can marry her now?"

"It is not wedding day," said Orrin.

"Heck with wedding day!" I said. "It's a new world, with new rules. And the Earthman Stewart John Jones is going to have his princess bride!"

"Very well, Stewart Stewart John Jones of Earth," said Orrin. "In three days, we will have a wedding to celebrate your union to Princess."

"Three days?" I said. "Why that long?"

"If I am to give a wedding," said Orrin, "I must be well-rested." The lazy son of a gun turned to walk back up the steps.

"All right then," I said. "In three days, we'll have a wedding!"

No reaction from the crowd.

"And there will be wine."

And at that announcement, there was much rejoicing.

Three days passed quickly. I'd love to say they were full of much joy and bustle and celebration. After all, it's not every day you get to host a royal wedding. But most of the people just continued with their daily rituals – eating, drinking, and lying around.

Despite her grumpiness on the flight home, Dayla seemed to brighten as our wedding day approached. She beamed every time she saw me, and her kissing skills improved with every pucker. Most of the folks of Barris had never even seen a kiss, and I thought sure we'd be starting a new trend.

I wanted to believe there was hope for this lazy, slothful people. Now that someone had shown them the way, maybe they could learn to take care of themselves – or at least care what happens to their fellow man. Three days after our arrival home, I still saw no real sign of change. But every time I thought of Mel, I knew it was possible.

Mel. I couldn't help wondering how she was faring as the new queen. Had she managed to take full control of Lobo's kingdom? Was she embracing the hard work of governing? For the sake of all Mars – especially these lazy wretches – I sure hoped so.

The night before the wedding, Dayla and I took another trip out to the orchard for dinner. We arrived back at the palace just after sunset. I walked her to her room.

"Until tomorrow, my love," I said, giving her a big kiss.

She looked deep into my eyes. "We will be together forever." She opened the door of her room and walked inside.

Suddenly, it hit me: Forever? Was I ready for this kind of commitment? Just a week or so earlier, I was ready to marry Felicia and live happily ever after... but that was on Earth. Earth, third planet from the sun, my home sweet home. Could I really live the rest of my days on this rock with Dayla?

Snap out of it, I told myself. It's not like Felicia's waiting for you with open arms. She'd probably just as soon hit you for letting her be abducted as go out with you.

But even if I were to give up Earth forever and live on Mars, would Dayla be the one to make me happy?

I started replaying the arguments that Mel and I had on our adventure. The River of Death, the Heart of the World, the old man's cave, the haunted forest, the Underworld. The girl made me miserable. And she made me happy. I hadn't had a good row with anyone since I returned to Barris. Everything here was laid back, conflict free – and just plain boring.

I couldn't understand why Mel haunted my thoughts like she did. Dayla no longer questioned me about her, but I spent the hours alone questioning myself.

I finally returned to my room, where I sat on the ledge of the balcony, pondering my mixed emotions about Mel and Dayla. I might have sat there all night had the boys not come in to dress me in my pajamas.

"No, no, no," I said to Hextar and Briggin. "I can do this myself."

Hextar moaned sadly as the two boys left the room. Their downcast, sullen faces were the very picture of how I felt inside.

I was living a fan boy fantasy. I was about to marry a princess of Mars. Why was I so unhappy?

# CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

I woke up the next morning when a tremor shook the palace. I heard rumbling sound off in the distance, and felt several more tremors as I yawned myself awake. At first I thought perhaps it was something to do with the wedding celebration, though it did strike me as strange that such a lazy city was capable of making such a loud, persistent noise.

Then Dayla rushed in, her eyes wide in panic. "My darling! Stewart, get up!"

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"They arrived this morning," said Mel. "Thousands of them! They have come to destroy us!"

"Who?" I said. I slid out of bed and wandered over to the window. Beyond the borders of Barris, I saw them – thousands of them, mean, green, and armed to the teeth. They were on foot, on beasts of burden, and giant war machines with catapults and cannons. The Underworlders had come to town, and they were open for business.

"Well," I said, "Here we go again."

Within minutes I was dressed, sword in hand, headed down to the main floor of the palace. I suppose it should not have surprised me to find Prince Orrin and his attendants running here and there with armloads of their possessions.

"Going somewhere, Prince?"

"To safety!"

"Yeah?" I said. "How you plan to get there? The bugs have you surrounded."

"Thanks to you!" said Orrin. "You have doomed us all, Stewart Stewart John Jones!"

"Me?" I said. "What did I do?"

"You killed the queen of the Underworld!"

"Oh yeah," I said. "I did, didn't I?"

"The Underworlders consider this an act of war! They mean to level our beloved city."

"And you're just gonna let them?"

"The king of the Underworld has massed his entire army. He's vowed to destroy us all!"

"You do know these guys are just, big bugs, right?" I said. "They're not that hard to kill."

"They are warriors, Stewart Stewart John Jones!"

"And what are you?" I said. The prince ignored my plea and went on, carrying his things.

I ran outside and saw the entire city was in full evacuation mode. On the one hand, I was relieved it had not occurred to them to bargain with the bugs and simply hand me over. After all, I was the guy who wasted their queen. But at the same time, I was thoroughly disgusted and fed up with the people of Barris and their lack of any will to fight.

"Men and women of Barris," I shouted, getting some of their attention. "What are you? Are you the lucky children of great men? Or are you a great people yourself? It's high time you all take a stand to defend your territory. The bug people cannot stop us if we band together!"

Those who stopped to listen resumed their flight as soon as I was done speaking. "Come on, people!" I shouted. "We can stop them! Believe me, we can defeat them!"

Orrin walked out of the palace with Dayla. "Give all the speeches you want," he said. "My people are not going to die for you."

"I'm not asking them to die for me," I said. "I'm telling you to fight for your city!"

"Why should we?" said Orrin. "We are not fighters."

"No, you're not. You're the lazy children of great men who have no concept of loyalty, duty, or love. You believe in nothing except pleasure and living for the moment. You are nothing like your forefathers, the real rulers and builders of Mars!"

Orrin interjected. "King Barris said..."

"Barris Shmarris!" I said. "All that filthy traitor did was prolong the inevitable for a bunch of ungrateful children! The real kings of Mars were proud men who could stand and fight to defend their families and their country. Is there no one left of their kind here in Barris?"

No one bothered to answer. They were all too busy fleeing. Dayla touched me softly on the arm.

"My brother is right," said Dayla, taking my hand in hers. "The Underworlders will crush us where we stand. We have to go."

"You want to run away too?"

She pleaded with her eyes. "We have no choice!"

I was so disappointed I shook her hand loose. "You do have a choice!" I yelled at her. "You can be a leader, stand and command your people to fight!"

"My people do not know how to fight!"

"It's not that hard!" I said. "It's all punching and kicking and swinging blunt implements of destruction!"

"We will all die!" she said. "We are hopelessly outnumbered!"

Almost on cue, a horn sounded. The people of Barris froze. The Underworlders sent up a terrifying, hissing shriek. Another rumble shook the ground, and a herd of kerrguns stormed into the city. Men and women of Barris ran faster than I had ever seen them, diving out of the way of the approaching herd.

We soon saw that it was not just a herd but an army. The Mountain Men had arrived in full force, and leading the way atop his armored was Grimnaught. The people of the city gathered, looking on with fear and awe as the new general of the Mountain Men slid down from his mount.

"Earthman," shouted the Mountain Man. "Her majesty's forces have come to stand with you and defend the city of Barris."

"Her majesty?" Orrin snorted. He nodded toward Dayla. "Her majesty is right here!"

Grimnaught grinned at the prince. He turned and pointed toward a tall kerrgun in the middle of the pack. On top was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, adorned in gold jewels and dressed in a gown of flowing white silk. Words can't describe the shock I felt when I recognized the girl beneath all the glamour and glitz.

"Stewart Stewart John Jones, is that your wife?" said Orrin.

"It was," I said. "Now she is your queen."

"It seems you have a problem, prince of Barris," said Grimnaught.

"Yes we do," said Orrin. "But we don't need your help!"

"I was not speaking to you," hissed Grimnaught. He turned to me. "We got word of their march two days ago. Sorry we did not arrive sooner."

"You're just in time, far as I can see," I said.

"We could have fortified the city," said Grimnaught. "Destroyed the Underworlders with our long range weapons. Now we are facing a terrible war."

"From all I have seen, you guys are the best fighters on Mars," I said.

"Aye. But we cannot do it alone. Will the people of Barris stand with us?"

We all turned to the crowd of frightened faces. There was murmuring, whispering.

"You really expect us to defend our city?" said one man.

"Why would we do that?" said another.

"Your queen demands it," I shouted, pointing up at Mel. She rose up on her mount and shouted down to the mob: "I have come to fight for my people. You did not ask me, but here I am, ready to stand and defend your city. Will you leave me here to fight alone?"

There was more murmuring, but then the people began to drop their precious things, standing a little taller.

The first man who spoke had the final word: "We will fight."

Moments later, the doors of the palace armory were flung wide open. Men, women, and children lined up to receive armaments that had sat dormant for years. They would taste blood today, all of them.

For my own part, I ran up to my room to throw on some armor. Hextar and Briggin were not far behind.

"Can we at least help you with your armor?" said Hextar.

"No," I said. "But you can both head down to the armory and suit up yourselves."

This seemed to make the boys happy. They dashed out of the room, nearly trampling over Mel in the process. I was surprised to see her, still breathless from taking in her new found radiance. She smiled at me.

"Welcome home, your majesty," I said.

"How was that for a hero's return?" she said.

I nodded. "Not bad for a warrior queen."

"Warrior," she said. "I never would have believed that title would apply to me."

I smiled at her. "After fighting with you for days on end, I knew you had it in you."

A loud cry rang out in Barris as the king of the Underworlders called his men to readiness. I glanced out the window, then back to the queen.

"It's going to get ugly out there," I said. "You ready for a fight?"

She gave me a wink. "I have not had a good one in days."

"Then let's give them one."

I started to leave, but Mel grabbed me and kissed me. She kissed me harder and better than any of the girls I had ever kissed – all three of them up to that point.

And then she was gone.

I stood frozen for a moment, not knowing what to think or do or say. If I lived through this battle, I had a hard decision to make.

Unless one of them got killed. Or both.

Grimnaught and Orrin assembled the newly commissioned army of Barris at the rear of the palace. Nervous men and women helped one another with their armor and examined their weapons. I saw some of Grimnaught's men giving quick lessons on how to swing a sword. It would be ugly, but we would soon see if the people of Barris had any fight in them.

"Grimnaught," I said. "Any final instructions for the troops?"

Grimnaught turned to the people. "We will not wait for the Underworlders to come to us. We will slay them in the fields around the city!"

No one said a word.

"This is the part where you all cheer," I said.

The people obliged with a weak, but hearty shout.

Grimnaught turned to me. "Earthman, by your command."

I drew my sword and stepped forward. "Let every man and woman fight with all their might so that one day, they will be proud to tell their children they fought side by side with Stewart John Jones of Earth!"

Next thing I knew I was on my back, wrapped up like a burrito, hurtling through the sky. In all the excitement, I forgot where I was standing and gave my _Braveheart_ speech on top of the very same carpet that had brought me to Mars.

# CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I woke up in a suburb of Buffalo, New York, dazed, confused, and looking like a dork in my Martian armor. My sword was gone, probably lying on the back porch of the palace back on Mars. I packed the armor inside the carpet and walked into town, where I enjoyed a basket of wings before buying a bus ticket back to Indiana.

I picked up a copy of _GamerPlus Weekly_ in Cleveland that told me I had been gone almost two weeks. I expected my friends to be holding candlelight vigils and have my face on milk cartons when I arrived home. They did not. In fact about the only person concerned at all with what happened to me was Marty, who had taken advantage of my absence and become a squatter in my apartment.

Ted figured I had run off to try to sneak on to the set of the next Marvel Comics movie as an extra – a feat we had tried and failed to pull off during the filming of _Iron Man 2_ , thanks to Ted. (Long story involving Gwyneth Paltrow, a turkey sandwich, and a platoon of security guards.) Thus, Ted was more angry with me for going without him than concerned I might be in some sort of peril.

Being the only one of us with any real life experience with women and broken hearts, Howie figured I was off doing some thinking about Felicia. He wrote me a pretty nice email while I was a way, saying I was a good guy and deserved the best. If only he knew...

Well, he will know everything soon. Soon, I will publish my memoirs for the whole world to read and enjoy. They may lock me away for this, but I know it is true. I have a magic carpet and a chest of armor in the closet to prove it.

Oh, in case anyone wants to know, as of this writing, I am dating Felicia. I went to see her before I even came to see the guys. I was very surprised to learn she was not mad with me at all. In fact the whole ordeal was kind of a bonding thing for us. We did go out for those breadsticks. We stayed for the beer and pizza, and next thing you know, we were a real item.

I haven't told the guys about that yet either. Knowing them, that will be a tougher story to buy than my trip to Mars. But just like everything else in this book, it's the truth.

In the immortal words of Criswell, "Can you prove that it didn't happen?"

# EPILOGUE

The following entry was posted to Stewart's personal blog the day he disappeared a second time. It has been two months since we last saw or heard anything from him. No missing persons reports have been filed because we're pretty sure he's somewhere trying to sneak onto another wickedly cool movie set without his life-long friends.

In the interest of full disclosure, Marty would like me to include the fact that missing persons reports have been filed on Dr. Pierson, the so-called expert on magic carpets that travel to Mars, and Felicia. You remember her, the girl Stewart failed to rescue from the robber at his work? I don't know how Stewart ever managed to get with her to go out with him, but yes, I can vouch for the fact that we did see him and her lip-locked the night they went missing.

The guys and I had been at Stewart's playing Magic for about four hours. We had all just finished reading this manuscript and were giving our notes and opinions on the story. Then Felicia showed up, and Stewart threw us all out. They had plans for her to see the original Star Wars for the first time, and we weren't invited because we "talked too much."

The blog you are about to read appeared on line at 6:21 AM the next morning. Three minutes later, Stewart changed his status to "On Mars." Read on and decide for yourself if the boy's full of crap.

\- Ted Merkin

Level 9 Dungeon Master

For those who wonder where I am...

I am headed back to Mars. I don't know how I will get there this time, but I don't have a choice. Yes, I would use the magic carpet, but it is gone. That's part of the reason why I have to go.

The other reason: Felicia.

Let me set the scene for you. Earlier tonight, I was enjoying a marathon session of gaming with the guys (Ted, Marty, and Howie), who had all just read my book _Martian Queen_ (I still think it's a dumb title), detailing my adventure on the red planet. Ted didn't believe a word of it. Howie wouldn't say he didn't believe me, but he didn't have to. And Marty, dear friend that he is, he sure wanted to believe me.

I pulled my Martian armor out of the closet to show off. Ted immediately dismissed it, saying it was identical to the set of armor he had bought off eBay from the movie _Ice Pirates_. We popped the movie in to take a closer look, and yep, there was a resemblance.

So then I had to get the carpet out. I laid it out on the floor and dared any of them to step on it and say, "Mars." They looked at it every which way, examined the patterns on it, weighed it in their hands, tested its aerodynamic qualities (throwing it at my head), but not a one of them would set foot on the carpet and say the magic word. I wouldn't say any of them were convinced, but I considered that a small victory.

Anyway, about half past midnight, Felicia arrived for our movie date. The girl had never seen the original _Star Wars_ , and I had insisted she come over that night so we could rectify this horrific injustice. She had to pull a double at Denny's, but I told her, just come straight over. Bless her heart, she even brought me Bacon and Cheese Fries.

So the guys cleared out, and we sat down to watch _Star Wars_. Twenty minutes into the movie, she notices the carpet. Having read my manuscript for herself, Felicia recognized immediately what it was. She got up, walked over, and checked it out herself. Then, I told her about the little dare I had with the fellas.

"No one had the guts to say it?" she said, stepping onto the carpet.

"Not a one of them," I said.

"What a bunch of chickens. I'll do it."

She didn't pause long enough for me to stop her.

"Mars!"

Felicia was rolled up in the carpet and flying out out my window before I could even scream the word, "NO!!!"

And that is why I have to go back.

I'm on my way to see Dr. Pierson. The man seems to know a little about travel between Earth and Mars, and I am hopeful he can help me find some alternate route. Of course as I discovered on my first visit, it's not just a matter of getting there physically, but in time. And if Felicia ends up in the same time I was in, I may have two bigger problems – Mel and Dayla.

Me with girl problems? If I wasn't living it, I wouldn't believe it either!

I don't know when I will be back, but some how, some way, I will return. Marty, keep the place clean for me. And if you're going to stay there, do me a favor and pay the rent. That'll even us up for DragonCon.

Tell you all about it when I get back.

\- Stewart John Jones

Master of Two Worlds

# ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Cosper is the founder of Righteous Insanity, a drama and film ministry providing resources to churches and ministries around the world. He is an award-winning script writer and director and an avid fan of science fiction and comic books. Previous works include _The Shell Collector, Cave World, This Would Make a Really Great Movie_ , and the sci-fi comedy film series _Fluffy_. He lives in New Albany, Indiana with his wife and two children.

For more about John Cosper, visit his website: www.johncosper.com

