COMING OF THE GODS
By CHESTER WHITEHORN
Never had Mars seen such men as these, for they
came from black space, carrying weird weapons—to
fight for a race of which they had never heard.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1945.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Ro moved cautiously. He knew the jungles of Mars well, knew thedangers, the swift death that could come to an unwary traveler. Manytimes he had seen fellow Martians die by the razor fangs of Gin, theswamp snake. Their clear red skin had become blotched and purple, theireyeballs popped, their faces swollen by the poison that raced throughtheir veins. And Ro had seen the bones of luckless men vomited from themouths of the Droo, the cannibal plants. And others there had been,some friends of his, who had become game for beasts of prey, or beenswallowed by hungry, sucking pools of quicksand. No, the jungles ofMars were not to be taken casually, no matter how light in heart onewas at the prospect of seeing home once more.
Ro was returning from the north. He had seen the great villages ofthatched huts, the strange people who lived in these huts instead ofin caves, and wore coverings on their feet and shining rings in theirears. And having quenched his curiosity about these people and theirvillages, he was satisfied to travel home again.
He was a man of the world now, weary of exploring and ready to settledown. He was anxious to see his family again, his father and motherand all his brothers and sisters; to sit round a fire with them at theentrance to their cave and tell of the wondrous places he'd visited.And, most of all, he wanted to see Na, graceful, dark eyed Na, whosefair face had disturbed his slumber so often, appearing in his dreamsto call him home.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the jungle's edge. Beforehim lay a broad expanse of plain. And far in the distance rose thegreat cliffs and the hills that were his home.
His handsome face broadened into a smile and he quickened his pace to atrot. There was no need for caution now. The dangers on the plain werefew.
The sun beat down on his bare head and back. His red skin glistened.His thick black hair shone healthily.
Mile after mile fell behind him. His long, well muscled legs carriedhim swiftly toward the distant hills. His movements were graceful,easy, as the loping of Shee, the great cat.
Then, suddenly, he faltered in his stride. He stopped running and,shielding his eyes from the sun's glare, stared ahead. There was afigure running toward him. And behind that first figure, a second gavechase.
For a long moment Ro studied the approaching creatures. Then he gaspedin surprise. The pursued was a young woman, a woman he knew. Na! Thepursuer was a squat, ugly rat man, one of the vicious Oan who lived inthe cliffs.
Ro exclaimed his surprise, then his rage. His handsome face was grim ashe searched the ground with his eyes. When he found what he sought—around rock that would fit his palm—he stooped, and snatching up themissile, he ran forward.
At great speed, he closed the gap between him and the approachingfigures. He could see the rat man plainly now—his fanged, frothymouth; furry face and twitching tail. The Oan, however, was too intenton his prey to notice Ro at first, and when he did, it was too late.For the young Martian had let fly with the round stone he carried.
The Oan squealed in terror and tried to swerve from his course. Thefear of one who sees approaching death was in his movements and hiscry. He had seen many Oan die because of the strength and accuracy inthe red men's arms.
Despite his frant