ERBzine 8247: ARKY ON MARS

Chapter 1

"The principle is simple," John Carter explained. "If you can hit the ball hard enough to clear Barsoom's field of gravity, it will continue to soar through space at the same speed until it strikes another object."

"And if it's aimed correctly, that object will be Jasoom," added Tars Tarkas.

"Not just Jasoom," replied John Carter. "But a certain place on Jasoom, where our key man is most likely to find it. Of course, even if you're off an infinitesimal bit, that could equate to missing Jasoom by millions of miles."

"I know, John Carter," said Tars Tarkas. "But I'll do my best to hit it onto the course you've calculated."

"If anyone can hit that ball hard enough, and accurately enough, it's you," said John Carter. "After all, I've seen you take your rifle and shoot a red dust ball off a malagor's back from 200 miles away."

Tars Tarkas grinned. "That was one surprised malagor!"

He leaned down and placed the ball on the tee centered on the peak of Olympus Mons, the mountain known to Barsoomians as Big Bertha.

"There's a some green powder on it due to flecks of dead skin from my body," said Tars Tarkas. "But I don't suppose that'll hurt it any. Has it been prepared properly?"

"It's all programmed," said John Carter.

"All right," said said the Thark. "Here goes...FORE!"

With that, the green giant whacked the ball with a picture perfect swing and both men watched in satisfaction is it shot into the stratosphere.

"Good shot," said John.

"Thanks," said Tars Tarkas. "Now let's get out of here and get something to eat. My stomach's growling."

Chapter 2

Professor Archimedes Q. Porter was a man of many talents, one of which was his great knowledge of archaeology. That was part of the reason he had the nickname of "Arky," but it was also a playful version of his name and, since moving to Arkansas from the more pleasant-sounding Maryland, he had also become a full-fledged Arky.

The professor came from a distinguished family, the great-nephew of the distinguished A.Q. Porter, now referred to as the elder prof, and he resembled the old man in many ways, with his capacity for learning and his great physical shape, maintained by taking daily walks.

In his spare time, the young professor amused himself by playing golf but on this day he was engaged up upon the green swards of the War Memorial Golf Course in a different kind of game -- Frisbee golf. He had been studying the aerodynamics of the flying disc made by the Wham-O Corporation and, on this day, was cataloging how many tosses it would take to throw the Frisbee from the tee to the point where it struck the flag on each hole.

The professor had also inherited a bit of the treasure-hunting yen from the senior Archimedes and the treasure on a golf course was balls lost by the other duffers. He was always excited to find a long-forgotten ball and always wore his cargo pants so he would have plenty of pockets in which to store the wayward spheres.

This morning he was doing quite well. First he picked up a shiny white Titleist 1 and then a pink Volvik. Next, he found a semi-personalized ball, which read: "Happy Birthday, Pop." Then he spotted another, one that he almost missed because its green tint blended so well with the grass. At first, he thought it was a lime green Volvik but then he realized the lettering took up much more space.
He saw the strange words on it and began reading them. "Och ohem och... " Suddenly the ball began glowing. "Yikes," said Arky, dropping the sphere. The light faded and he carefully picked it up again.
"Somehow that rings a bell," he said.
He slipped the ball into his pocket and continued his stroll. It was a good morning. He found two more golf balls before he concluded his walk.
As he rounded the last leg of the course, he saw the two nuns approaching. He had often watched them and noted that they, too, looked for golf balls, probably to sell to raise money to feed hungry orphans. But they wouldn't find many golf balls today. Arky grinned. You had to get up awfully early to beat him!

Chapter 3

Arky's cousin, Jane, was one of Arky's favorite relatives. The wife of John Clayton, Lord Greystoke, he who was also known as Tarzan of the Apes, Jane seemed eternally youthful, always with a sparkle in her eyes and great stories to tell of life in the jungle.

But the sparkle would have become fire if she'd known that he was filling one of her late mother's best antique dishes with golf balls. The bowl had been given to him one Christmas to "pretty up" his bachelor apartment, but Professor Porter, as he was called in academic circles, was a practical man who believed in using things rather than just letting them sit around and collect dust. For instance, he actually read his Edgar Rice Burroughs books instead of just lining them up like stately soldiers merely to decorate his shelves.

And he was known to play with the GI Joes he couldn't resist buying and would also carefully take his Corgi cars out of the bubble packs and run them on the dining room table, making "Rrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrrr" sounds as he did so.

On this particular evening, Jane had come for a visit at his Little Rock home and brought along a six-packk of ice-cold Perrier water. The professor made some special movie popcorn while Jane looked over his shelf of DVDs.

"We haven't played this one in awhile," she said. Arky looked at her selection. "John Carter!" he said. "I've only seen it once. Good! Put it on. It might give me an idea for something to post on Facebook.

Arky dumped the fiery hot corn into the concave side of his favorite Frisbee and sat down on the couch, next to Jane, holding the flying disc between them where both could easily reach in. It wasn't too long into the film before the cave scene was playing out before them and the dying Thern began muttering "Och...ohem..."

"That's it!" shouted Arky. "Now I remember!"

"Remember what?" asked Jane.

"The golf ball! The golf ball!" cried Arky. He jumped from the couch and opened the cupboard where he had hidden the antique bowl and fished out the green ball, noting as he did so that his hand was still discolored from touching it earlier. "Probably dead Thark skin," he thought to himself.

"Watch this, Jane," he said, turning to her.

"Och...ohem...och...tay...wyees....." For a moment he hesitated. Should he say the next word or not? Surely, nothing would really happen. It was just a story, after all. He grinned, winked at Jane, and said: "Barsoom!"

There was an instant of extreme cold and utter darkness.

Chapter 4

Arky knew he was on Mars. Not only that, but he knew he was standing atop Olympus Mons. He had seen plenty of photos of Olympus Mons on the internet, as he had virtually explored the Red Planet courtesy of NASA photos, dreaming of what it would be like to ride a thoat across that barren and forbidding landscape.
He also knew the atmosphere of Mars was extremely thin. But he took a breath. After all, he really had no choice. Yes, the air was thin, but breathable, and apparently enough to sustain human life, as long as he took it easy.
In fact, the lesser gravity of Mars made it simple for him to take it easy since it required very little energy for him to move about. Like all newcomers to Mars. he took a few wild spills until he learned just how much power to place into each footstep, but he soon mastered the knack.
There was nothing else to do but head down the mountain. Arky hoped he would run into friendly denizens and yearned most of all that he might meet John Carter himself. Still in his left hand was the popcorn-laden Frisbee he had been holding while clutching the golf ball portkey in his other hand as he recited the Thern incantation. He began munching handfuls of the treat as he headed down the mountain.
Soon he picked out a cloud of dust made by a horseman, heading toward him. But wait, that wasn't a horse. It had to be a thoat, thought Arky. He stood and waited. Then he saw that a small flier was coming up behind the thoat. He hoped both riders were friendly because there was no place to hide. They came near and Arky could see that a giant green man was astride the thoat and the flier pilot appeared to be man of about 30 with dark, close-cropped hair and keen grey eyes. There could be no doubt but that this was John Carter, Warlord of Mars, flying alongside his favorite green guy, Tars Tarkas.
"Well, here you are," smiled Carter as he came within earshot.
"Hi," said the professor, "You can call me Arky."
"Yes, I know," said John Carter. "We've been expecting you."
"Me?" asked Arky. "How did you know I would come here?"
"My Thark friend here hit that golf ball your way on purpose," said Carter, "because I read on Facebook that you walk the course picking them up. I cannibalized the guts of a Thern amulet to make that special golf ball."
"Wow!" said Arky. "I'm glad I was smart enough to figure out how to use it."
"Get in," said John Carter, indicating the rear seat of the small flier. "We'll get back to Helium right away. Dejah Thoris has made dinner reservations for us."
"But, is that thing safe to fly in," protested Arky.
"Son, this is Barsoom," said Carter. "We don't have bicycles or mass transit. You're going to have to learn a few new things if you want to earn your keep. Now have a seat."
Arky had never liked flying but he sucked it up, climbed onto the flier, and held on as best he could, though he had a look of apprehension on his face.
As the flier lifted off, he heard Tars Tarkas laughing, and recalled that Tharks only laugh when they are seeing something awful happen to someone or some thing.

Chapter 5

Arky finished his meal of roast zitidar and washed it down with a last glug of mantalia.

"That was delicious, better than anything I've had on Earth!" Arky grinned.
Dejah Thoris smiled. "I'm glad you like it. The Well-Fed Jed is one of John's favorite restaurants, so I'm glad they didn't disappoint."
She smiled at the Warlord, who grinned back at her and patted her hand. Dejah motioned for the slaves and they came over and began clearing the dishes away.

Dejah stood up. "Well, I have some shopping to do in the Barsoomian Bazaar, so I'll leave you men to talk," she said. She gave us all another luscious smile and then disappeared.
John Carter turned to me. "Before we get down to business" he said, "it's time to exchange some information. I'll go first. I have a question. What's that thing you've got tucked into your belt?"
"Oh, that," said Arky. "That's my favorite Frisbee."
"Uh....I see," said John Carter. "Frisbee indeed. Well, you must have some questions, too."
"Yes, I do," said Arky. "But my first question is: Where's the restroom? It's been several hours since I downed two bottles of Perrier water back on Earth and I've chased it with this mantalia."
"Of course," said John Carter. "Right over there past those potted plants. There's a little hallway and you'll see the door with the fighting man on it."
Arky made his way across the dining area where guests occasionally stole glances at the odd-looking stranger who was important enough to dine with the Warlord of Mars.
The door to the men's room opened into a nicely tiled room with mirrors and white commodes with shiny brass fittings. Arky breathed easier. Since this was Mars, he didn't know quite what to expect. He wouldn't have been surprised to find anything much better than just a hole in the floor, but he was relieved, in more ways than one.

After doing what he came to do, he stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. Immediately he noticed there was no regular faucet he could reach easily, but rather a single lever up much higher. But he could see no spigot. Then he looked down and observed the stain around the drain and the blue deodorant cake. He realized he was looking into the basin of a commode designed for the much taller Tharks and the high lever was a flush handle. Embarrassed, he turned and looked for the real sink. Again, he found two, one at normal height and the other with the sink about the level of his head. He washed his hands and then began looking for a towel rack but instead, the restroom attendant, a shapely lass, handed him a towel. He thanked her and she smiled sweetly. He dried his hands, crinkled the towel and tossed it into what he hoped was a waste basket.
He started to push open the door but heard the Martian girl speak. "Excuse me, sir," she said, somewhat hesitantly. '
"Yes?" smiled Arky, attempting to put her at ease.
"I hope you don't mind my asking. But what's that round thing you have tucked in your waist harness?"
"Oh, that's just my Frisbee," grinned Arky.
"I see," she said, looking slightly uncomfortable and demonstrating that she didn't see at all.
As he left the restroom, he wondered if the question had been asked merely to slow his departure on the chance that he might remember to offer her a tip.

Chapter 6

As Arky approached his table, he saw John Carter and Tars Tarkas look up at him expectantly. Suddenly, he had a rush of deja vu. He saw himself as Michael Corleone, returning from the Italian eatery's restroom where he had snatched the hidden gun from behind the overhead toilet tank.
He saw John Carter as the rival Mafia gangster and Tars Tarkas as the crooked police captain.
But Arky, of course, did not have a gun. He had only his Frisbee. And, he would never even think of harming John Carter or the great green giant. He shook his head vigorously to clear the thoughts which had come, unbidden, to his mind.
As he took his seat, John Carter offered: "You have some more questions?
"Yes," said Arky. "I thought you said in A Princess of Mars that there were no mountains over 4,000 feet in height on Barsoom. Since NASA has photos and readings that show that Olympus Mons is 14 miles in height, doesn't that mean you were wrong in Princess?
John Carter looked at Arky with a trace of annoyance but managed to maintain his overall good humor. "It's the theory of relativity," he replied. "In other words, it's all relative. NASA also has pictures of Earth's North Pole, yet the space agency has not discovered the entrance to Pellucidar.
"As you know," the Warlord said, "ERB's books are scientifically accurate. Now take Tarzan at the Earth's Core. Jason Gridley explained that the North Pole opening to Pellucidar had not been discovered by explorers simply because it was so immense that it eluded detection. He said, '...the polar opening is so large that a ship, a dirigible or an airplane could dip down over the edge into it a short distance and return without ever being aware of the fact...'
"The same principle works on heights, as well as depths. Olympus Mons is so high that the mountain doesn't look like a mountain. It's mass requires a base that is wide beyond belief. Thus, the slope is so gradual that it is difficult to determine exactly where the slope begins. However, if you could determine that point, and stand there, you would not be able to see the top of the mountain because its peak would lie beyond the horizon.
"Therefore," John Carter explained, "you could ride your thoat for miles up the mountain and when you got, say, 6,000 feet above dead sea level, you might think you were still on the open plains. At the time of Princess, I had not even been anywhere near Olympus Mons and my 4,000-foot remark was in reference to other mountains which rose more directly and distinctly from their bases. I'll take one more question," he said, looking at his watch. "Then we have to get down to business."
"Okay," said Arky. "I only have one more question anyway. You mentioned Facebook. Do you mean to tell me that you have the internet here on Mars? I mean Barsoom?"

Chapter 7

John Carter had a ready answer when Arky asked him if the internet is available on Barsoom.

"Oh yes indeed," said John Carter. "And I have a Facebook account. I seldom post. I'm one of those lurkers most of the time. But I enjoy reading what all of the members of the ERB groups have to say, especially when it's about his Mars series."

"How do I find you on Facebook?" asked Arky.

John Carter chuckled. "Nice try," he said. "But I'll tell you this much. My Facebook identity is not what you might think it would be, but it's such that, when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense. And if you read all the posts carefully, you can probably figure out the ones that are by me. Those are the only clues you're going to get."

"Fair enough," agreed Arky. "I didn't know you could get the internet on Mars."

John Carter smiled indulgently. "The big technology breakthrough," he explained, "was getting the internet to Earth! After Ras Thavas and his assistant, Alo Gor, invented it, we had to figure out a way to make it available on Jasoom as well."

"You mean the internet was invented on Mars?" Arky exclaimed.

"Of course," said John Carter. "In fact, most of Earth's technology comes from concepts that were originally developed on Barsoom. When you live for thousands of years, you can only get smarter. Ras Thavas has developed his keen mind in a number of areas, and the invention of the internet was just something he whipped out in his spare time."

"You're quite an inventor yourself," noted Arky. "I'm kind of surprised that it wasn't you who invented the internet."

Carter smiled shyly. "Well," he said, "as you know, I don't like to brag. But I did add one little innovation to the internet after Ras invented it. You see, he was thinking only in terms of black and white. I'm the one who made the internet available in color."

"Well, we'll be eternally grateful to you for that," said Arky.

"Good," said John Carter. "Now, I'll answer the question you have not asked. Why did Tars Tarkas and I hatch a plan to draw you through space to Barsoom?"

Chapter 8

John Carter, Tars Tarkas and Arky, aka Professor Archimedes Q. Porter, had left The Well-Fed Jed and were gathered around a small table in the apartments of the Warlord of Mars in the city of Greater Helium.

"The Therns are causing trouble again," said John Carter. "We had pretty much wiped them out and destroyed their deceptive religion, but some survived and they've got the thing revved up again. Now those evil megalomaniacs want to take over the world."

"That's too bad," said Arky. "But what has that got to do with me?"

"We need a Caucasian to infiltrate their ranks," said the Warlord. "They know me, of course. They've also become familiar with the face of Ulysses Paxton. For crying out loud, they even know what Betty Callwell looks like, so we can't use her, either, even if we could find her!"

"Use her for what --wait, wait," Arky stuttered. "Betty Callwell?"

"Yes, she was here," said John Carter. "Transferred over from Cosoom a few years ago. She had to get out of Dodge there real fast, if you know what I mean. As you probably know, she has the gift of interstellar travel, too."

"But, but," said Arky. "In Escape on Venus it said that her dead body ended up back on Earth."

John Carter rolled his eyes at Arky. "Ah, how soon we forget. My dead body has been on Jasoom a couple of times, too."

"Oh yeah," said Arky. "I get it now. But if you need a member of the white race to infiltrate the Therns, then out of all the people on Earth, why pick me? Why not someone, say, like Prince Harry?"

"Harry's too well known on Earth," said Carter, "with pictures of him and Meghan always showing up in those tabloid magazines. And as you know, the Therns have agents on Earth who probably read those magazines. If things go badly, we'd rather use someone who's not going to be missed as much as Prince Harry. I know that may sound callous, but I'm just trying to be practical."

"And," continued Carter, "I know you are an adept students of ERB. You've read the books as well as the comic book interpretations. For crying out loud, you've even read some of the Wild Adventures and ERB Universe entries. You're quite familiar with the other classics as well --the ancient Greek myths, Poe, Lovecraft, Shakespeare and that crowd, so you're well-rounded mentally. And, you have kept yourself in great physical condition, so you can hold your own in a fight."

"Well, that's all true," said Arky. "From ERB I know the ways of the Therns and I know I could keep up my end in any intellectual discussion with them. But there's one major thing you're overlooking: Therns are bald and I still have some hair on my head."

John Carter smiled. Behind him entered a friendly looking man in a white tunic, with a long black comb stuck in his left breast pocket. The man was carrying a device that resembled electric clippers. "You have hair now," said John Carter. "But we can deal with that."

Chapter 9

A few swift strokes of the barber's whirring clippers and Arky's hair had decorated the floor quicker than that of a Marine recruit at boot camp.

"You're looking more like a Thern all the time," grinned John Carter.

"I don't want it to seem like I'm trying to get out of this," said Arky. "but I thought of another problem. How are the Therns going to be able to understand my Earth language?"

John Carter jabbed Tars Tarkas in the thigh with his elbow and said, "You hear that Tars?"

"I hear and comprehend, John Carter," said the gargantuan green man.

"Hey!" said Arky. "I understood him!" Then, other memories came to him. "And Dejah Thoris. I understood her! And the girl in the restroom!"

"What?" said John Carter. "What do you mean, the girl in the restroom?"

"The restroom attendant," said Arky. "She handed me a towel and asked about my Frisbee."

"Darned Thern spies," swore John Carter. "They're everywhere! What kind of a place do you think Helium is, Arky? We don't allow women in men's restrooms!"

"Oh..." said Arky. "Well, nowadays on Earth we do, at least in the Land of the Free."

"Anyway," said John Carter. "You're wondering why you could understand the people who spoke to you. You mantalia was spiked with a drink we call The Voice of Barsoom."

"I thought that was something the movie made up," said Arky.

"It was," said John Carter. "But Ras Thavas liked the idea and went to work on developing a formula right away. You see, everyone here already speaks Barsoomian, so we have no need of language classes. There just aren't that many newcomers arriving to make employment of a full-time teacher cost effective. So, with this drink available now, we can just give non-Barsoomians a quick shot and, voila, they can speak and understand our language.

"You've been communicating in Barsoomian since your first sip at The Well-Fed Jed and you never noticed any difference. Up until that time, I was speaking English to you but I switched to Barsoomian after I saw that white mustache on your face."

"You know, at the time," said Arky, "I thought that I tasted just a hint of root beer in that mantalia."

John Carter beamed. "That was another one of my innovations," he said. "I talked Ras into adding that flavoring into his formula."

"I only wish," said Arky, "that you'd had some vanilla ice cream to go with it. It's been a long time since I've had a root beer float."

John Carter's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I should have picked Prince Harry after all," he said.

Arky realized instantly that he needed to act a bit more serious. "Okay, what do I do next?" he asked.

"Now we need to get you a decent harness, put you through a little swordsmanship training, tell you the plan, and get you on your way," said John Carter.

"How will I get there?" asked Arky.

"You'll be able to draw a one-man flier from the motor pool," said John Carter. "We've outfitted one with Thern trappings and colors and we'll show you how to use it, of course."

"I don't know," said Arky. "I'm not really sure I can fly one of those things."

"But you know how to ride a drive a car," said John Carter. "We have fliers that handle muck like vehicles. So you'll be right at home."

Chapter 10

A dwarf with long, pointed ears and skin akin to that of The Incredible Hulk, stood in the arena holding a sword that was bigger than he was.
"This little runt is supposed to teach me how to use a sword?" Arky thought.,
"If a swordsman you would be, then pay attention you must," said the pint-size pedagogue.
"I need to let you know," said Arky. "That I do have some background in sword-fighting. I have a genuine King Kull sword at home and I've practiced a lot of moves that I've seen Arnold Schwarzenegger do in Conan movies."
"Up your mouth, shut!" roared the shrimp. "As say your Frenchmen, en garde."
Arky whipped his borrowed Barsoomian pig sticker to the ready and prepared to duel, even though he didn't want to hurt the sawed-off swordsman. However, the little guy came at him like a small ball of fire, swinging his sword at Arky from everywhere and yet being nowhere that Arky stuck his blade.
Before long, Arky was soaked in sweat and the muscles in his sword arm felt like burning coals. Finally, the little monster had mercy on him and stopped. "Pretty good you are," he said.
"Really?" said Arky. "I thought I was doing lousy."
"No, good you are," the munchkin replied. "Twice, within two feet of grazing me, you come. Only one who come closer was John Carter."
"And how close did he come?" asked Arky.
The midget scowled as he absent-mindedly rubbed a long scar on his right wrist. "That, we not talk about," he grimaced.
Despite the compliment, the sword lessons continued for two weeks. And in the evenings Arky was checked out on the one-man flier he would be using. At first, it was frightening, and he feared falling off. But at last it became as natural as cruising through the city along Broadmoor Avenue.

<> Finally, John Carter came to him. "We think you're ready," he said. "Now here's the plan." Just in case any Thern spies were close by, John Carter began whispering in Arky's ear, cupping his hand over his mouth to thwart any Thern lip-readers with binoculars. The Arky smiled and nodded as the Warlord explained.

Chapter 11

Arky, his directional compass set for the Thern compound in the Mountains of Otz, pulled his furs more snugly around him, making sure to cover his newly bald head, which had been kept that way by followup visits from the Barsoomian barber. He wondered what he was getting into. It was flattering that John Carter had trusted him for a special mission, but what if something went wrong?

Arky was as brave as Tarzan, his uncle by his marriage to Jane, and his son, Korak, and as his flier sped toward his date with destiny he stirred his resolve by reflecting on the exploits of the Claytons. He also brought before his mind visions of other great writers from whose pens and characters he drew inspiration -- Edith Hamilton's Hercules, Robert E. Howard's Conan the Barbarian and King Kull, and his other uncle's Biker Babes of Barsoom. Arky was determined that his actions at the Mountains of Otz would become a Mountain of Hope for the future of Barsoom.
Fortified by reflecting on the achievements of these valiant stalwarts, Arky unwrapped the zitidar sandwich Dejah Thoris had made for him and munched idly away at it as Cluros and Thuria sped past above and as he skitted over dead sea bottoms and patches of ochre moss below. A mystical refrain began running again and again through his head:
"Vista on vista marching, hills on hills,
"Slope beyond slope, each dark with sullen trees,
"Our gaunt land lay...."
And as the gorgeous red Martian dawn broke across the horizon, he could look down upon the Otz Mountain Range and beyond it the shimmering blood-colored waters of the Sea of Korus, lapping at the shore of the Valley Dor.

Detail slowly emerged from the tops of the gray-colored mountains as his craft drew nearer, and soon he could make out signs of human habitation. His craft began to slow and he could see that it was headed for a flat area ahead, where several figures -- presumably a Thern greeting party -- stood awaiting his arrival, probably in response to the radio message John Carter had arranged to be sent.

Arky quit pedaling and turned on the automatic pilot to glide into a perfect landing.

On the ground, Arky turned off the ignition and set the emergency brake, then tossed an anchor over the side for good measure.

He stepped off his craft and walked with what he hoped was a confident swagger up to the Thern greeting party -- there were six of them -- and looked them over with disdain showing on his features. It was the type of look a superior Thern would, quite naturally, give to his underlings. It was designed to intimidate and to draw instant obdience to his orders.

"Take me to your leader!" Arky snapped.

Chapter 12

When Arky ordered the Thern greeting party to "Take me to your leader," he felt a bit silly. Those words were were so banal on Earth that speaking them there would have evoked laughter. But it was the kind of command the Therns were accustomed to hearing on Barsoom, and the half-dozen instantly obeyed.

The Therns marched toward the temple and Arky followed. His active imagination was once again at work, and he wondered if there was any significance in the number six, the number of men usually needed to carry away a dead body. Would they become his pall-bearers?

They entered an ornate doorway as guards stood at attention and they then navigated a hallway decorated with sparkling jewels and bedizenment of pure gold. Arky was impressed, but unfavorably. "Part of the spoils they've stolen from their unfortunate victims," he thought. He clenched his fists in anger.

The hallway opened to a spacious chamber where a larger-than-life figure sat on a plush throne.

The man was huge. He was obviously afflicted with gigantism, but fully two feet higher than Andre the Giant, perhaps a diminutive relative of Joog. He looked, in a way, ridiculous, especially with the yellow wig he wore as part of his position as high priest.

The six moved away, three to each side, and Arky stood alone in the middle, facing the monstrosity, whose name he knew was Shang-A-Lang, illegitimate son of former high priest Matai Shang.

"What do you want," growled the bloated beast.

"I bring news from the Thern underground in Helium," said Arky, patting the dispatch in the pocket at his side.

"We know about you," said the chief Thern. "You're in tight with John Carter and Tars Tarkas."

"What better way to learn their secrets," smiled Arky.

"What's that Frisbee for?" the Thern asked. He was the first Martian who already knew the word "Frisbee," and Arky knew how. He remembered that John Carter had suspected the female restroom attendant of being a spy.

"That's where I carry this," said Arky, yanking a mass of dark hair out of the backside of the Frisbee. "My own little wig disguise so John Carter wouldn't suspect that I was a Thern. Guess I won't need this anymore," he said, tossing it disdainfully on the inlaid floor. Immediately, one of the six Therns scurried over and picked it up and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket.

"You lie!" roared the high priest. "You are an impostor!"

Chapter 13

What was Arky's best move? He was surrounded by Therns in a Thern compound and he'd just been called an impostor.
The Jasoomian had been warned something like this might happen. To show panic would be fatal; to fight would be futile. He stood his ground, sneered, and retorted, "Anytime you're through playing games, I'll be happy to give you this secret report. Or would you rather that I push this self-destruct button?" He tapped meaningfully at the small white button on his dispatch pouch.
"Okay, okay," said Shang-A-Lang quickly, "let me have it. We just say things like that impostor bit to try to flush out any spies. Obviously, you're the genuine article."
Arky breathed easier. He hoped that his anxiety hadn't shown. As a member of Facebook, he had often had to use words to defend himself when he shot from the lip. Now, all of that practice was paying off.
He flipped open the flap of the pouch and handed the documents within to a court official, who walked them up to Shang-A-Lang. The glowering giant read them carefully, glancing occasionally at Arky.
He finished and handed them back to the court lackey. "Prepare the fleet," he said. "We're going to crush Helium."
The obese overlord looked at Arky. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Arky," replied the professor. He and John Carter figured he might as well use his real name, since it sounded a bit like a Barsoomian name.
"Sounds like the name of an American state," said Shang-A-Lang, grinning malevolently.
Arky was surprised at first that the Thern leader could make such a comparison, but then he remembered that there were Thern spies on Earth. They must have been making very thorough reports.
Shang-A-Lang spoke. "You check out fairly well, but I've never seen you before so I don't fully trust you. You'll ride on the command flier with me, and if I get the slightest reason to doubt you, I'll kick your butt right off the ship."

Chapter 14

<> Arky stood on the deck of the Phaidor, the Thern flagship, as it led the armada of thousands of Thern fliers over the outer parapets of Greater Helium.
Shang-A-Lang stood nearby. "That secret dispatch had better be right," he said. "It reported that Helium's guard is down. Their fleet is supposed to be off to the north on some mission dreamed up by the warlord. Aggggkh. Warlord, my foot! By the time he comes back, we'll have dealt with his wench, Dejah Thoris, as well as whatever red-bellied minions he left behind. Then we'll surprise him by blasting him out of the sky."
"I can hardly wait to run this through some red Martians myself," said Arky, licking his lips and waving his long sword around, playing his role to the hilt.
But at that moment, about one hundred thousand Helium war flyers appeared as out of nowhere as their pilots disengaged the cloaking devices which had been perfected by Ras Thavas using the technology of the invisibility capability developed by Phor Tak. The Helium attack force swarmed about the Thern fleet, unleashing a fusillade of rocket fire which quickly started sending Thern ships into sickening death dives to the rooftops, streets and vacated playgrounds below. John Carter, always thinking ahead, had made sure the women, children and those who had lived long enough to be considered "old men," were in adequate shelters.
"Tricked!" cried Shang-A-Lang. "We've been played for suckers!"
He turned and glared at Arky, who was grinning.
"Why you dirty traitor," shouted Shang-A-Lang. "I'm going to carve you into bite-size bits of Ulsio bait."
Shang-A-Lang has his sword in his hand and instantly Arky was surrounded by three other Therns who had the points of their swords just inches from his throat. Arky could see that the Helium flagship was overhead and a boarding party was ready to drop down, but he knew succor would come too late. He had to rescue himself, or die.
Ever resourceful, Arky had anticipated this possibility. As the situation stood, if he fought back, four swords would run him through and he'd die. If he surrendered, they'd kill him anyway, and he'd still die.
Confidently, however, he said to Shang-A-Lang, "You win," and tossed his sword onto the deck.
Arky knew that, even if only for an instant, their eyes would follow the sword as it fell, and an instant was all of the time that he needed.
In many an action movie he'd seen, some violent acts were deliberately shown in slow-motion. There was something about slow-motion that added an intangible dose of realism to the happenings. Now, he himself seemed to see everything taking place in slow-motion. He saw Shang-A-Lang's triumphant grin, then the flash of perplexity on his face as he saw Arky's hand moving toward his harness, and then a look of shock and horror as he realized exactly what Arky was doing. Finally, there was a look which seemed to be a mixture of anger, regret, hatred, fear...and even resignation.
It takes longer to tell than it did to happen. Immediately upon letting go of his sword, Arky's hand had swept back to his harness and plucked the Frisbee from beneath his belt, his fingers latching onto the flying disc in perfect positioning for the anticipated action. In a smooth, coordinated motion, born from long hours of tossing his Frisbee at trees, power poles and an occasional squirrel on his morning Golf Course jaunts, Arky brought his wrist forward with the Frisbee in hand, letting it fly free at just the right millisecond, and saw it sail true toward Shang-A-Lang's wide head. He saw the Frisbee smash the bridge of the high priest's nose and watched as his opponent's eyes closed instinctively in fright and self-preservation. He watched as the Thern dropped his sword and stumbled backward, clawing in a futile effort to try to dislodge the small chunks of nose bone now imbedded in his mug. He backed into the railing of the airship, and then tumbled over it. The last thing Arky saw was the giant's two putrid feet disappearing over the edge.
Arky's other Thern attackers stood transfixed and devastated but only for a moment. But by the time they sought to renew their attack on the Arky, the boarding party had thumped onto the deck and had their full attention.
And then Arky saw a familiar, smiling face as John Carter walked toward him.

Chapter 15

"Well done," John Carter told Arky, clapping him on the shoulder. "Once again, an Earth man has become the savior of Barsoom."

"Aw heck," said Arky. "It was nothing, really. I just did what you told me to do. Happy to help."

"It's a good thing you had that Frisbee," said John Carter, "since we would have been a second or two too late to help you. We knew Shang-A-Lang would turn on you and we wanted to keep that from happening. Also, I figured my ship ought to try to get to this one as soon as possible, so none of my over-eager padwars would mistake you for a real Thern."

"Yeah, I've had enough of being a Thern," said Arky. "I'll look forward to my hair growing back, and resuming my walks on the golf course, picking up stray balls and throwing my Frisbee...Wait a minute! My Frisbee! Where is it?"

"I'm sorry to tell you this," said John Carter, "but after it gave Shang-A-Lang a bean bang it glanced off and went over the side of the ship."

"Oh no," said Arky. "That was my best Frisbee, and it would always have reminded me of this day."

"We'll see what we can do," said John Carter. "After we finish wiping out all of the Therns, we'll do a full search for it."

Arky swallowed hard and said, "Okay."

...

Two days later, John Carter brought sad news to Arky. "We've searched everywhere," he said, "and no Frisbee has been found. Probably picked up by some kid."

"Well, that's okay," said Arky. "I'm disappointed, but I do like giving away toys to kids sometimes. If I can picture it in the hands of some young red Martian, that will make me happy. Martian childhood is short, and this will give the kid a little extra fun along the way.

"I really need to be getting back to Earth, though," said Arky. "My Aunt Jane's going to be worried sick about me. I've been gone about a month now and, of course, I just vanished -- poof! -- right before her eyes!"

John Carter smiled enigmatically. "Ohhh, don't worry. I doubt that Jane has missed you at all."

"Well gee, thanks a lot!" scowled Arky.

"That's not what I meant," said John Carter.

"Well," replied Arky, "what did you mean?"

Chapter 16

John Carter and Arky stood in the foothills of Olympus Mons, about 150 miles away from the peak.
"It's like this," explained the Warlord. "It's a little improvement I made on the Thern amulet mechanism when I transferred it to the golf ball. There's a kind of a time travel device in there, so you'll return to your apartment at the exact same moment you disappeared. So if Jane notices at all that you've been gone, it will be nothing more than the blink of an eye, and she'll probably think she imagined it."
"That'll be so much easier for her," said Arky, "and a lot less explaining for me."
"Well," said John Carter. "You may still have a bit of explaining to do, but we won't worry about that right now. Are you sure you want to hike up Olympus Mons? I could get you up there in no time in my flier."
"No," said Arky. "I have to do this. Whenever a mountain climber goes up a mountain, he always has to climb back down. I've already come down from the top of this mountain. Now, I need to earn the right to have been up there by actually climbing it."
"Sounds good to me," said John Carter. "I've never actually climbed this thing either, so let's get going. It's going to take awhile."

....
At last the pair stood atop the 14-mile-high peak. The air was extremely thin and it was harder to breathe than when Arky was on his way down, due to the extra muscle exertion in the relentless climb. John Carter had thought to bring along some air packs he'd invented that helped both of them out.
"One thing before you go," said John Carter. "Helium will always be grateful for what you've done, and Tardos Mors and Mors Kajak asked me what reward would be most fitting for you.
"Aw," said Arky. "You don't have to give me anything. There's nothing better than being in my own ERB adventure."
"Well, I think you'll like this, though," said the Warlord. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a circular plastic object which he handed to Arky.
"A Frisbee!" said Arky. "You got me a Frisbee! And -- omigosh! -- it's a Pluto Platter! I missed out on one of those when I was a kid."
"Take a close look at it," said Carter, "it's been custom-made." Arky examined the flying disc and noted the names of the planets on it. "They're all written in Barsoomian lettering!" he exulted. "This is amazing. Thank you!"

Arky hesitated. "Something else?" asked John Carter.
"I just wonder," he said, "Would it upset the delicate ecological balance of Barsoom if I were to take home a pocketful of soil from the top of this mountain?"
"Help yourself," said John Carter. "We don't piddle around with that environmental stuff on Barsoom. This is a dying planet, remember. So what the heck?"
"Thanks," said Arky. He reached down and grabbed a handful.
"Wait," said John Carter, "use this." He dumped the Ptor Farms equivalent of celery sticks out of a plastic baggie from his backpack.
"I didn't know you had these baggies on Mars," said Arky.
"I saw them on earth and told Ras Thavas about them and he invented them for Martians," said John Carter.

Arky filled the plastic bag with dirt and put it in one of the pockets of his cargo pants.

"Oh by the way," said John Carter, "since you'll be taking the golf ball back to Earth that means you can come and visit us again any time."

"I might do that," said Arky. "If I hold Aunt Jane's hand when I say the magic words, will it bring her along with me?"

"I think it will work that way," said the Warlord. "But you might give a trial run first, maybe holding onto your pet cat.

"Now to make the time travel part work," said John Carter. "With my adjustments, you have to use a different incantation than the one you used to get here."
Carter told him the magic words and Arky held the golf ball in his right hand, his Pluto Platter in his left, nodded and smiled to John Carter, and recited the formula: "There's no place like home. There's no place like home."

Once again there was that moment of darkness and cold, and then he was standing once again in his apartment, looking into the face of Aunt Jane, who was still sitting on the couch where she had been when he had originally used the golf ball to go to Barsoom. On the TV screen, the DVD was playing the scenes of Taylor Kitsch making his first awkward movements on Mars in "John Carter."

"Well," said Jane. "What's this all about. So you've got a golf ball in your hand and you said some funny words. So what?"

Then, she looked again. "Wait a minute," said his aunt. "Why are you standing instead of sitting on the couch? Why are you bald? Where'd you get that different Frisbee and what happened to the rest of the popcorn that was in it?"

Arky sighed with resignation. "Turn of the TV," he said, "and I'll tell you a much better Martian story."

...

A few months later, when Arky went to an archaeological convention in Woodland Hills, Calif., he skipped a couple of sessions and took a cab ride over to Ventura Boulevard in Tarzana, where he had arranged to visit the offices of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. He wasn't going there to pitch a book based on his adventures on Mars, but just to meet the folks who ran the place and maybe get a peak inside the fabled warehouse.

He found the quiet, nearly camouflaged little office, and headed down the short walk to the front door. On the way, he stopped to inspect a large tree beside the walk. He opened his briefcase and extracted a small plastic bag with red dirt, opened it, and surreptitiously scattered the contents around the base of the tree.

"You made Barsoom famous but you never got to go there," he said out loud. "But Barsoom has finally come to you."