2 - Blades of Mars by Edward P. Bradbury Page B

not hate it in any way.
                   It was while I was still in this philosophical
mood that we stumbled upon the vats.
                   The first indication of their existence that
we received was the smell. Breathing in the vapour, we felt a slight stiffness
in our muscles. Then we entered a hall over which crude gangplanks had been
placed, for the floor, which was sunken, was full of a noisome, bubbling fluid.
                   We paused beside the gangplank, looking down.
                   ‘I think I know what this is,' I said to Hool
Haji.
                   ‘The poison?'
                   'Exactly - the stuff which
they coated on those needle-poles to paralyse us.'
                   I frowned. 'This could come in useful,” I
said.
                   'In what way?' my friend asked.
                   'I'm not sure -I have a feeling that it might.
It will do no harm to take samples.' I pointed to the far wall.
                   On a shelf stood several
pottery flasks and a heap of poles with six-inch needles at their tips.
                   Carefully we crossed the vat by means of the
gangplank, heading towards the shelf. We breathed in as little as possible for
fear that our muscles would become paralysed altogether, causing us to plunge
into the vat, and we should either drown or die from an overdose of the stuff.
                   At last we reached the shelf, feeling stiffer
with every moment that passed. I took down two flasks of good, if weird,
workmanship, and handed them to Hool Haji, who stooped and filled them. We
rammed stoppers into the flasks and attached them to our belts, then we took a number of poles and left the hall of the vat
by the nearest exit.
                   Now the floor of the tunnel rose and this gave
us some hope.
                   I could see light glimmering from somewhere,
though I could not see its direct source.
                   Just as we turned into a small passage and saw
daylight coming through an irregular opening to one side of the passage, the
light was momentarily blocked out by the sudden eruption into the place of a
number of the large spiders I had seen earlier.
                   I drew my sword, which my blue friend had
returned to me, and he used one of the poles to flail about him at the
disgusting creatures. They paused only for a short time to attack us and then
scuttled past, disappearing into the depths of the city.
                   What I had at first thought to be a direct
attack was, in fact, nothing more than the nocturnal creatures returning to the
darkness of the city.
                   We clambered out of the window and stood once
again on what I can only call the 'surface* or roof of the city -a place of
unnatural cliffs and canyons all of the same darkly shining, obsidian stuff. It
still looked as if it had been moulded whilst malleable rather than constructed
in any fashion men would employ to build a city.
                   Our feet slipping on the smooth surfaces, we
stumbled along, now realising we had no real idea
where our ship was in relation to us!
                   I imagine we would have wandered like this for
many more hours - perhaps days - if we had not suddenly caught sight of Jil
Deera's stocky figure framed against the jungle beyond. We yelled to him and
waved.
                   He turned, his hand
on his sword-hilt, his stance wary. Then he grinned as he recognised us.
                   'Where is Vas Oola?' I asked as we walked
towards each other.
                   'He is still with the aircraft, guarding it,’
the warrior replied. 'At least' - he looked distastefully around - 'I hope he
is.'
                   'Why are you here?' asked Hool Haji.
                   'When you both did not