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

it was decided to hold her for a few days and then turn her over to Ras Thavas
if the claimants could not come to some agreement among themselves. This
decided, one of the jeds addressed us men prisoners.
"How many of you will serve us as officers of our troops if you are permitted to
live?" he asked.
The only alternative being death, we all proclaimed our willingness to serve as
officers. The jeds nodded. "We shall now determine which of you are best fitted
to serve as officers of our fighting men," said one; and, speaking to an officer
standing near us: "Fetch seven of our best warriors."
We were then led to one side of the room, where we waited. "It looks like
fighting," said John Carter with a smile.
"I am sure that nothing would suit you better," I replied.
"Nor you," he said; then he turned to the officer with whom he had talked on the
way from the prison. "I thought you said the seven jeds were hormads," he said.
"They are."
"They don't look like any of the hormads I have seen."
"Ras Thavas fixed them up," said the officer. "Perhaps you don't know that Ras
Thavas is the greatest scientist and surgeon on Barsoom."
"I have heard as much."
"You have heard right. He can take your brain out and put it in the skull of
another man. He has performed that operation hundreds of times. When the seven
jeds heard about it they selected seven of the best looking officers and
compelled Ras Thavas to transfer their brains into the skulls of these officers,
You see they had been hideous creatures, and they wanted to be handsome."
"And the seven officers?" I asked.
"They went to the culture vats, or rather their brains did the original bodies
of the seven jeds went with them. Here come the seven fighting warriors. In a
few minutes you will know which of you are going into the vats."
We were now taken to the center of the room and lined up facing seven huge
hormads. These were the least malformed that we had so far seen, but they were
still most repulsive looking creatures. We were furnished with swords, and an
officer gave us our instructions. Each of us was to engage the hormad facing
him, and those of us who survived without a serious wound would be permitted to
live and serve as officers in the army of Morbus.
At a command from an officer, the two lines advanced; and in an instant the
chamber rang with the clash of steel on steel. We men of Helium believe that we
are the best swordsmen on Barsoom, and of us all, none is so great a swordsman
as John Carter; so I had no apprehensions as to the outcome of the contest so
far as he and I were concerned. The creature attacking me depended upon weight
and brute strength to overcome me, which are the tactics most generally adopted
by all of them, since they are not endowed with any great amount of
intelligence. He evidently hoped to cut through my guard with a single terrific
stroke of his heavy weapon, but of course I am too old a hand at fighting to
fall victim to any such crude method of attack. As I parried his cut and stepped
aside, he rushed past me awkwardly; and I could have run him through easily, but
I had learned in my first encounter with these monsters that what would
constitute a lethal wound to a mortal man would cause a hormad no inconvenience
whatsoever. I should have to sever one of his legs or both his arms or
decapitate him to put him out of the fighting. That, of course, gave him a
tremendous advantage over me; but it was not insuperable. Or at least that was