Contents ( 26)
- Swords of Mars
- Edgar Rice Burroughs
- Chapter 1 RAPAS THE ULSIO
- Chapter 2 FAL SIVAS
- Chapter 3 TRAPPED
- Chapter 4 DEATH BY NIGHT
- Chapter 5 THE BRAIN
- Chapter 6 THE SHIP
- Chapter 7 THE FACE IN THE DOORWAY
- Chapter 8 SUSPICION
- Chapter 9 ON THE BALCONY
- Chapter 10 JAT OR
- Chapter 11 IN THE HOUSE OF GAR NAL
- Chapter 12 "WE BOTH MUST DIE!"
- Chapter 13 PURSUED
- Chapter 14 ON TO THURIA
- Chapter 15 THURIA
- Chapter 16 INVISIBLE FOES
- Chapter 17 THE CAT-MAN
- Chapter 18 CONDEMNED TO DEATH
- Chapter 19 OZARA
- Chapter 20 WE ATTEMPT ESCAPE
- Chapter 21 IN THE TOWER OF DIAMONDS
- Chapter 22 IN THE DARK CELL
- Chapter 23 THE SECRET DOOR
- Chapter 24 BACK TO BARSOOM
"Is there no danger that I might unintentionally harm it?" I asked.
"I think not," he replied. "It is probably difficult for you to realize that that ship sees and reasons. Of course, its vision and its mental functioning are purely mechanical but none the less accurate. In fact, I should rather say, because of that, more accurate. You might attempt to win the ship to leave the room. It cannot do so because the great doors through which it will eventually pass out of this building are closed and locked. It might approach the wall of the building, but the eyes would see that it could not pass through without damage; or, rather, the eyes would see the obstacle, transmit the impression to the brain, and the brain would reason to a logical conclusion. It would, therefore, stop the ship or, more likely, cause it to turn the nose about so that the eyes could seek a safe avenue of exit. But let us see what you can do."
I had no intention of letting Fal Sivas know that I could operate his invention, if he did not already know it; and so I tried to keep my thoughts as far from it as possible. I recalled football games that I had seen, a five-ring circus, and the Congress of Beauties on the Midway of the 1893 Chicago World's Fair. In fact, I tried to think of anything under the sun rather than Fal Sivas and his mechanical brain.
Finally, I turned to him with a gesture of resignation. "Nothing seems to happen," I said.
He appeared vastly relieved. "You are a man of intelligence," he said. "If it will not obey you, it is reasonably safe to assume that it will obey no one but me."
For several moments he was lost in thought, and then he straightened up and looked at me, and his eyes burned with demoniac fire. "I can be master of a world," he said; "perhaps I can even be master of the universe."
"With that?" I asked, nodding toward the ship.
"With the idea that it symbolizes," he replied; "with the idea of an inanimate object energized lay scientific means and motivated by a mechanical brain. If I but had the means to do so—the wealth—I could manufacture these brains in great quantities, and I could put them into small fliers weighing less than a man weighs. I could give them means of locomotion in the air or upon the ground. I could give them arms and hands. I could furnish them with weapons. I could send them out in great hordes to conquer the world. I could send them to other planets. They would know neither pain nor fear. They would have no hopes, no aspirations, no ambitions that might wean them from my service. They would be the creatures of my will alone, and the things that I sent them to do they would persist in until they were destroyed.
"But destroying them would serve my enemies no purpose; for faster than they could destroy them, my great factories would turn out more."