"09 - Synthetic Men of Mars" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burroughs Edgar Rice)

descent, I had noticed clusters of small huts scattered about the island outside
the walls of the city wherever I could see, suggesting a considerable
population; and as I could see only a small portion of the island, which was of
considerable extent, I received the impression that it was inhabited by an
enormous number of people. I was later to learn that even my wildest guess could
not have equalled the truth.
After we had dismounted, we three prisoners were herded together; the arms,
legs, heads, and bodies which had been salvaged from our battle earlier in the
day were slung in nets so that they could be easily carried; the gates swung
open, and we entered into the city of Morbus.
The officer in charge of the gate was a quite normal appearing human being, but
his warriors were grotesque, ill-favored hormads. The former exchanged greetings
with Sytor, asked him a few questions about us, and then directed the bearers to
take their gruesome burdens to "Reclamation Laboratory No. 3," after which Sytor
led us away up the avenue that ran south from the gate. At the first
intersection, the bearers turned off to the left with the mutilated bodies; and
as they were leaving us a voice called out, "Do not forget, Vor Daj, that
Tor-dur-bar is your friend and that Teeaytan-ov is little better than an
experiment."
I glanced around to see the grisly head of Four-million-eight leering at me from
the bottom of a net. "I shall not forget," I said; and I knew that I never
should forget the horror of it even though I might wonder in what way a bodiless
head might be of service, however friendly its intentions.
Morbus differed from any Martian city I had ever visited. The buildings were
substantial and without ornamentation, but there was a certain dignity in the
simplicity of their lines that lent them a beauty all their own. It gave the
impression of being a new city laid out in accordance with some well conceived
plan, every line of which spelled efficiency. I could not but wonder what
purpose such a city could serve here in the depths of the Great Toonolian
Marshes. Who would, by choice, live in such a remote and depressing environment?
How could such a city exist without markets or commerce?
My speculations were interrupted by our arrival before a small doorway in a
blank wall. Sytor pounded on the door with the hilt of his sword, whereupon a
small panel was opened and a face appeared.
"I am Sytor, Dwar of the 10th Utan, 1st Dar of the 3rd Jed's Guard. I bring
prisoners to await the pleasure of The Council of the Seven Jeds."
"How many?" asked the man at the wicket.
"Three – two men and a woman."
The door swung open, and Sytor motioned us to enter. He did not accompany us. We
found ourselves in what was evidently a guardroom, as there were about twenty
hormad warriors there in addition to the officer who had admitted us, who, like
the other officers we had seen, was a normal red man like ourselves. He asked us
our names, which he entered in a book with other information such as our
vocations and the cities from which we came; and it was during this questioning
that I learned the name of the girl. She was Janai; and she said that she came
from Amhor, a city about seven hundred miles north of Morbus. It is a small city
ruled by a prince named Jal Had who has such a bad reputation that it has
reached to far away Helium. That was about all that I knew about Amhor.
After he had finished questioning us, the officer directed one of the hormads to
take us away; and we were led down a corridor to a large patio in which there