The Secret of Gena Thal

by Rod Hunsicker

With her work done for the day, Gena Thal put away her surgical tools and washed her hands. Many hours of hard work spend dissecting the umba speciman had led to a wealth of notes over which she would spend many more hours studying. The red woman left her laboratory and walked to the chambers where she would prepare for supper.

Her nose twitched at the delicious aroma hailing from the kitchen. Gena Thal lived in a small house of her own, close to her father's home but far enough away for privacy. In residence with her were three slaves who had been with her for decades. Sheri was the head of the slave household as well as Gena Thal's personal nurse and scientific assistant. As she removed her laboratory robe, Tolina, the slave whose duties included personal care, quickly cam in and assisted her.

"The evening may be cool tonight, mistress," said Tolina in her soft whispery voice, "would you care to wear something warm?"

Gena Thal shook her head. "I'm a little tired tonight, Tolina. It really doesn't matter what I wear. Tell old Cronan to keep the house warm."

"Oh, mistress, that old codger may well be sleeping already. Why you don't get a younger house slave I'll never understand. He must be a thousand years old already," complained Tolina

"Cronan's been with my family a long time. He attended my father and my grandfather. Just tell him my wishes. He will wake long enough to carry them out."

Tolina crinkled her eyes. "Someday he will forget to raise the house at bed time, and assassins will come and steal our lives."

"What would assassins want with our lives, girl?" asked Gena Thal, growing impatient with her slave's rambling. "Hand me the blue scarf and be off with you."

Tolina brought the scarf and helped wrap its lenght about her mistress' shapely form. Then she scampered off to find the old slave.

Dinner was excellent, as always, and afterward Gena Thal sat in a large room with the telescope and meditated. Nights like these, when she was tired after working she felt more alone than usual, and her thoughts turned to her friends, most of whom were happily mated to men of their choice. Often she felt like an outsider among them because of her single status, so she avoided them by escaping into her work. However, the gossip about her was that she was an odd person, not at all like other women of her age or social class. Her father was a scientist, and that was not a prestigious occupation on Barsoom, but her grandfather had been a mighty warrior and a close friend of Tardos Mor, the Jeddak of Helium. That ancient freindship placed her family in a favored spot at court and softened any criticism she might recieve from overly curious detractors

Her musings were interupted by the door bell. Visitors were rare to her house, especially so late. She heard old Cronan open the door at the beckoning of a harsh voice all to familiar these days. Her spine iced as she was summoned to recieve her visitor, a nobleman of Helium, and a great warrior named Krep Zon.

He was a giant of a man with thick shoulders and arms. his harness was richly decorated but not at the expense of utility. He was very familiar with the weapons at his side. The small reception room was crowded with the smell of his masculine audacity. Gena Thal fought back a wave of weakness as she addressed the warrior.

"This is a late visit, Krep Zon. Is there s problem?"

"Only the same problem between us for the past two years, Gena Thal. I have come often to this house, drawn by your beauty, only to be repulsed by your rebellious attitude. I have spoken to your father, and he has agreed that it is time for you to marry."

The red girl summoned her courage. "Perhaps, but not to you."

Krep Zon shook his shaggy head. He had noticed Gena Thal more than two years ago at a party at the court of Helium. Never had he seen a woman so beautiful. He had many slaves on his estates and none of them compared to Gena Thal. In the manner of the men of his race, Krep Zon desired this woman above all else and would not rest until he had made her his.

"After what I have to tell you, you may reconsider that statement," he said slyly.

The red girl frowned and backed up a step. There was nothing that could make her love this man.

"I doubt it," she replied as dryly as possible.

"For some reason you consider yourself above me. Something special. Well, maybe you are special. It has become my knowledge just how special you are."

"What do you mean?" she asked

"I do not think you are aware of the conditions of your birth. That you were a premature hatchling, very premature. You should have been exposed to the elements at birth and properly disposed of. Instead you lived, cared for by that slave of yours, Sheri. Although not unlawful, this is a breech of proper conduct. The race will not stay strong if premature hatchlings are allowed to life...And you were allowed to live.

"What would Helium society think if it discovered that?"

Gena Thal retreated a few steps and lifted her hand to her lips for she did not trust herself to speak. This could not be true!

The huge red warrior laughed, and stepping toward heer quickly, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "It will be a small matter if the secret is held between man and woman. No shame need be placed on your family. True, we will not be able to have children, but I have children from other women and need no more. I want you to be my princess, Gena Thal. I want to be your chieftain."

Trembling in his grasp, the red girl stumbled through her shocked mind and searched for the strenght to resist this man. This was no less that blackmail. Where she had only disliked Krep Zon before, now she hated him. It was this hate that gave her the strenght to resist. She twisted out of his hands and retreated to the doorway leading out of the reception room.

"I don't even know if this is true. You could be lying to get your way. What a dishonorable way to act," she cried,/P>Krep Zon folded his arms over his massive chest. "Look into the matter, Gena Thal. Discover the answers for yourself. Then come to me. You will know it is the best thing you can do.

"In two weeks I will call again. Let us hope you will be more cooperative." Krep Zon bowed his head slightly and left her home.

"Is this true?"

Sheri raised her teary eyes and faced the red girl. "Is it true that you are alive and healthy? Yes, it is true. I am only a slave. I cannot speak of matters beyond my station."

Gena Thal insisted on a confrontation with this woman, a slave she had known all her life, and a person she valued as much as her parents. "I must know the truth. Was I a defective egg?"

Sheri turned her back to the red girl. Gena Thal seized her, whirled her around and continued to insist until her slave broke down under the barrage.

"You were an early hatchling. Only half the time spent in incubation. Your parents were barren, all their eggs defective. Though your egg was smaller than permissible, they kept it, and when it hatched early they kept the hatchling alive against all reasonablecustom. I was a nurse, and they put you in my care. So helpless at birth. It was a struggle to keep you alive. But I did it. Here you are. There is no sin in that," said the slave proudly.

No sin in that. Her parents had done something that should not be done. It was common believe that the race should be kept strong through the strict judgement of each egg's suitability. There were few weaklings on Barsoom because they were weeded out and destroyed long before hatching.

For her to survive was a shame to that vernerable, noble practice. A terrible shame.

"I should not be alive. No wonder I am different. Odd, my friends say. I shouldn't be alive," moaned Gena Thal as she covered her face with her hands. Sheri embraced her.

"Don't say that! Don't ever say that. Look at what you've dome in your life. Your work. And many people care for you. So many other people are without value. Not you! I don't regret keeping you alive. Surely you realize you are worthy of life despite what others might think."

"It hardly matters now," replied Gena Thal, suddenly sober and turning colder as she faced the harsh reality of her secret. "Now Krep Zon shall have me. My father cannot help me. Even the Jeddak of Helium will despise me if he learns my secret."

"You don't know that. Maybe people won't be as horrified as you think," said Sheri.

"You can't believe that. No one will side with me. I'm doomed."

Sheri softly patted the red girl's hair. "I know one man who will side with you."

Gena Thal brushed aside her slave's hand. "Do not mention his name! Even now he sits in Lothar with his orovar friends, people like himself with whom he shares more in common than with me. He rarely writes and never visits anymore. I am lost to him."

"He is working on an important project. Very important to Barsoom. He told you that," said Sheri.

"Spending time with zombies in the hope of recreating an ancient world. Perhaps he dreams of white skinned women with auburn hair. Maybe that is what he's trying to recreate," pouted Gena Thal.

"You don't know that, Gena Thal," said Sheri, "you should have gone out to visit him like he asked you last year."

"That's not the way its done. Men court women, not the other way around. I'll not humiliate myself under a guise of scientific curiosity," she retorted proudly. Gena Thal squared her shoulders and lifted her pretty face with a defiant tilt.

"Don't worry, Sheri," she said in an even tone, "I know a way to handle this problem. I won't be forced by that brute's hand."

The red girl kissed her slave on the cheek, turned and walked away briskly. Sheri watched her go and worried about what she might be planning. She called forth one of the other slaves in the house.

"Quickly, go and find the panthan, Cormuc Fan. Tell him I have an important job for him that must be attended to immediately," she commanded the slave, nearly pushing him out the door.

Fray held the plant in his hand while the apparitions of Lothar hovered about and aided in his work. Deep below the city of Lothar, the mummified men of that city loosened the manifestations of themselves for greater mobility. Like ghosts they\ floated about the room, adding a spooky atmosphere of an already gloomy chamber. For several years Fray and the Lotharians had been working toward this goal: the manifestation of a plant they believed would create oxygen for Barsoom's starved atmosphere. It was a plant that Fray's people had used in terraforming other worlds in the past. One of his father's highest achievements. The offworlder believed they were close to making the plant, called aoleo in his language, a reality.

"It is almost completely solid," said Tario. the Jed of Lothar was smiling. He thought success was near.

"We have nearly defined its reality signature. Once that is done your powers of visualization will manifest the plant. It breeds rapidly, is relatively harmless, and creates oxygen abundantly. And it does so in a dry environment which is crucial on Barsoom," replied Fray. For nearly five years they had been working on this project.

"We are grateful for your assistance, Fray," said Tario. "Your fundamental grasp of reality physics has accelerated our research in the right direction. Perhaps we can do something positive for our people now."

"Reality physics was essential to my function as soldier for my own people. Identifying reality signatures helped me to control or destroy targets in times of war using cyberpsychic applications. With your help and research I am able to use the same knowledge for the betterment of a society. It is to you that I am grateful," replied Fray

Brinh Pim entered the room at that moment. Fray had explained to him that all things that exist have a signature or code that defined and underlined their existance much as DNA does for living organisms. The science of his people had reached beneath DNA to isolate this principle with the help of viewing apparatus that was based on psychic abilities more than mechanical engineering. It had been a matter of integrating the principles of reality signature with the Lotharian mental magic to establish a technique for producing the nearly perfect plant before them.

"You have a visitor, Fray," announced the psychologist.

Fray frowned. "I am very busy now. Perhaps later."

"It is an urgent matter. A panthan has come from Sheri, the slave of Gena Thal. He has a letter for you. I am told that Gena Thal is in significant trouble."

Sighing, Fray placed the plant in a dish on the table before him. He motioned for Brinh Pim to lead the way up to the surface where the panthan waited.

Cormuc Fan was a man of medium height. His body was unusually broad however and heavily muscular in a natural way. His eyes were lighter than most red men and were close to a pale gold in color. Those eyes met Fray's straight on. He handed the letter to the offworlder.

Fray read it quickly. His frown deepened.

"You haven't read this message?" he asked the panthan.

"No," came the curt reply. Fray believed him.

"Is it a serious matter?" asked the psychologist.

"Yes, Gena Thal is in trouble. Her slave asks that I help her." Fray looked back the way he had come, obviously thinking of his work below. Understanding his plight, Branh Pim placed his hand on Fray's shoulder.

"A difficult choice?"

Fray smiled tightly. "No choice at all, my friend. Someone I care about needs me.

"No choice at all."

Krep Zon hurried through the chilly night. With him were one of his best warriors and the spy he had hired two years ago to obtain information on Gena Thal. This spy had recieved a lead concerning new information about the red girl. A time and place had been set up. Although it was still two days before Gena Thal must make her decision, any added information that could be used against her was welcome. Krep Zon and his small party moved stealthfully through the back alleys of a poorer section of Helium until they reached their destination. It was a small in whose doors had long since closed for the night. For a few coins its back rooms could be rented for dealings best not done in daylight. Krep Zon and his cronies made their way to one of these back rooms.

A sharp knock on the door caused it to open from within. The room was bare except for a table and several chairs. At the table was a heavily robed man whose harness bore no weapons. An unusual sign of peace and the signal that Krep Zon was in the right room. The robed man moved quickly behind the three red men and closed the door. A brown cowl of rough material hid his face in the dim light.

"Well, what can you tell me? It is a late hour that you have summoned me. I expect something valuable for this visit," said the huge warrior. He placed his hand on his sword to emphasize his warning.

The robed man bent over and checked the seam of the door. Satisfied the door was tightly sealed he turned to the red man.

"It is about Gena Thal that I will speak. Information that will make her more pliable to your will," said the robed man in nearly a whisper. "That is what you want, isn't it?"

"My wants are none of your business. How did you find out about my interest in Gena Thal?" asked Krep Zon

The robed man laughed and slapped the pockets of his robe. And laughed again. "There are no secrets in Helium, great warrior. Your spy left a trail. Not a good one, but I picked it up. It is my business to sell information. You understand?"

Krep Zon folded his arms across his chest. Later he would punish his spy for slipping up. If extortion is to succeed the fewer who know about it the better. For now he would deal with this person.

"Let's get to the business at hand. What do you know about Gena Thal?" asked Krep Zon. He was impatient to conclude this business for the hour was late and he seemed to be tired suddenly.

The cowled man rubbed his hands together. He stood near one of the room's corners with the three red men in front of him.

"Surely you would like a drink first?" he asked.

"I'll not trust anything you give me to drink, fool," cried Krep Zon. He pulled out his short sword and pointed it at the robed man

"Isn't that sword getting a little heavy for you?" asked the man in robes. "Be careful you don't drop it."

Sweat was forming on Krep Zon's brow as he struggled to hold out the blade. Then it slipped from his fingers. The room began to spin as his mind zoomed away from his body. With his last strenght he commanded his men to atack the robed man, but they were in the same situation and unable to respond.

Fray pushed back his cowl and removed the weapons from the drugged warriors. He seated them each in a chair. The odorless gas he had released when striking his pockets had done its work and was nearly dissipated now so he removed his nose filters

Standing in front of Krep Zon, the white man began to infiltrate the warrior's mind. It was his intention to wipe out all memory of what he knew about Gena Thal. Fray thought it was better if life went on in Helium with the exception of any knowledge of Gena Thal's origin. He was reluctant to kill to achieve this goal, and so he resorted to mind control through drugs, psychic hypnotism and a fundamental knowledge of psychology.

So intent was he at his task that he failed to note the entrance of two men into the room.

At close quarters they wielded long daggers. One attacked Fray while the other set about cutting the throats of the men sitting down. Fray's attacker was silent in his attack, but at the last moment Fray turned, twisted and avoided a fatal cut. Instead, the Assassin's blade sliced through leather robe and surface flesh. Before the assassin could cut on the return swing, Fray completed his pivot and hooked a left hand onto the side of his head. Caught by surprise, Fray hit the man with all his strenght and caved in his skull at the temple. Fray kept turning and faced the second assassin, who was already coming at him.

Only his higher gravity speed and reflexes saved Fray from the assassin's knife. For several seconds they circled around each other. Three times the assassin cut Fray on his guard arm before he sensed an opening and went low for a vicious cut to Fray's leg. As the blade cut a six inch wound across the off worlder's thigh, Fray hit the assassin with a wild swing that knocked him backward. Fray picked up a chair and hurled it at the assassin. Following the missile, the robed man secured an armlock on the knife arm and broke it. He rolled on the man and subdued him with several quick elbow blows to the head.

Fray spend a few minutes binding his wounds. Krep Zon was dead. So was his spy. His warrior attendant was still alive because the second assasin hadn't had the time to finish him. Fray picked up the surviving killer and hoisted him on the table. He strapped him down and brought him back to consciousness. Brutally, he interrogated him and forced the name of his employer from his lips.

Gena Thal!

She waited for word about Krep Zon at the place she had agreed upon with the assassins. To her overwhelming surprise a familiar robed man walked up to her. With a small cry she sat down on a marble stool nearby. The sun was lifting in the morning sky when Fray stood before her.

Kaor, Gena," he said, sweeping back his cowl. He always called her by one name. At first it had been annoying, until she realized it was an act of caring. A sort of pet name.

"Kaor, Fray," she answered in a whisper. There was blood on his robes. "Are you hurt?"

"A few scratches," he said. He pointed at the stool. "May I sit with you. I'm a little tired."

They were in a small garden in the center of the city. Soon early morning risers would be walking about, either for exercise or to begin their daily work. The garden was cared for by community slaves who would also be arriving soon.

"Please, sit down," she said.

Nothing passed between them for a few long minutes. Fray wondered what element of fate had given her to him. many years ago he had prayed for a companion to share his life with on this harsh alien world. Often, if one prays the right way, an answer will come if a man is alert to recieve it. The day when he first saw Gena Thal, victimized by green men he had been a little reluctant to interfere, and thus nearly missed the gift that fate had given him. Such a complete gift. Her premature hatching was a part of that.

"Krep Zon is dead. You will not be bothered by him again," Fray said finally. She turned and stared at him with wide brown eyes.

"You killed him?"

He shook his head. "No, he was killed by your assassins. Let there be no secrets between us, Gena. You are a red girl of Barsoom. You acted in a customary way against an insidious threat. I understand that."

"Were you there?"

"Yes. I was solving the problem in my own way. Your assassins nearly killed me along with Krep Zon. They will not be bothering you again either."

Gena Thal's mind was whirling. She had almost caused him to be killed. She leaped to her feet and stepped away. Now he would not even share friendship with her.

"You must hate me now," she said. "I don't blame you if you do. I'm such a fool."

Fray rose and gripped her shoulders. leaning forward he kissed the top of her head.

"I don't hate you, Gena. I love you. On this world there may be no other for me than you. I realize that now. If you are a fool, I am a greater fool. If I had been with you that bully would never have insulted or threatened you. I should have been here, with you, protecting what I hope is mine."

She turned into his arms and looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and swollen with tears. Her lips were pouty and parted to catch her breath.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

He pulled her closer. He was nearly overwhelmed by her soft presense. His hand cupped the back of her head as he mingled his fingers in her long black hair. How he had longed to kiss those lips. Fool had been and understatement.

"I want to be your chieftain." He did kiss her then. Stepping back, he threw his sword at her feet and bent one knee before her. "You are my princess," he pledged.

Gena Thal wept as she sank to the ground until her face was level with his. This time she kissed him.

"You are my chieftain, Fray," she answered, "you are."

The End

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