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

me whereby I might eventually reach the side of Janai, or at least discover what
fate had overtaken her. I turned to Ras Thavas. "Could you restore Gantun Gur's
brain to his head if you wished to?" I asked.
"Certainly."
"Or could you put it in Tor-dur-bar's abandoned skull?"
"Yes."
"How soon after the removal of a brain do you have to replace it with another?"
"The liquid that I pump into the veins and arteries of a body will preserve it
indefinitely. The blood I have withdrawn is also preserved similarly. But what
are you driving at?"
"I want you to transfer my brain to the body that was Tor-dur-bar's," I said.
"Are you mad?" demanded John Carter.
"No. Well, perhaps a little, if love is madness. As a hormad I can be sent to
the Council of the Seven Jeds and perhaps chosen to serve them. I know I can be
chosen, for I know what answers to make to their questions. Once there, I can
find the opportunity to discover what has become of Janai. Perhaps I may even
rescue her, and when I have either succeeded or failed, Ras Thavas can return my
brain to my own body. Will you do it, Ras Thavas?"
Ras Thavas looked questioningly at John Carter. "I have no right to interpose
any objections," said The Warlord. "Vor Daj's brain and body are his own."
"Very well," said Ras Thavas. "Help me lift the new Tor-dur-bar from the table
and then lie down there yourself."
CHAPTER IX
MAN INTO HORMAD
WHEN I REGAINED consciousness, the first sight that met my eyes was that of my
own body lying on an ersite slab a few inches from me. It was rather a ghastly
experience, looking at one's own corpse; but when I sat up and looked down at my
new body, it was even worse. I hadn't anticipated just how horrible it would be
to be a hormad with a hideous face and malformed body. I almost loathed to touch
myself with my new hands. Suppose something should happen to Ras Thavas! I broke
out in a cold sweat at the thought. John Carter and the great surgeon stood
looking at me.
"What is the matter?" demanded the latter. "You look ill."
I told him of the fear that had suddenly assailed me. He shrugged. "It would be
just too bad for you," he said. "There is another man in the world, probably the
only other man in the entire universe, who could restore your brain to your body
were anything to happen to me; but you could never get him to Morbus as long as
the hormads rule here."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Vad Varo, a prince of Duhor now. He was Ulysses Paxton of Jasoom, and he was my
assistant in my laboratory at Toonol. It was he who transferred my old brain to
this new body. But don't worry. I have lived over a thousand years. The hormads
need me. There is no reason why I should not live another thousand years. Before
that I shall have trained another assistant, so that he can transfer my brain to
a new body. You see, I should live forever."
"I hope you do," I said. Just then I discovered the body of the assassin of
Amhor lying on the floor. "What's the matter with Tor-dur-bar?" I asked.
"Shouldn't he have regained consciousness before I did?"
"I saw to it that he didn't," said Ras Thavas. "John Carter and I decided that
it might be well if none other than he and I knew that your brain had been