"Fine," I said, getting up.
But I had not said 'fine' at all, I realized. I had said vrazha-the Martian word that was its nearest equivalent.
I had spoken Martian!
"It works!" I cried. "What sort of machine is it that can achieve that so swiftly?"
"I do not know. We are content simply to use the things of the Sheev. We were warned in the far past never to tamper with their gifts since it might result in disaster for us! Their mighty civilization once suffered a disaster, but we have only a few legends which speak of it and they are bound up in talk of supernatural entities in whom we no longer believe."
Respecting what was evidently a deeply rooted custom never to question the Sheev inventions, I remained silent, though every instinct made me want to get at the language-teaching machine, probably a highly sophisticated computer containing an hypnotic device of some kind.
My headache had gone by the time we reached the upper levels of the palace and walked through the great hall out into the city. At the bottom of the wide, white steps two strange beasts were waiting.
They were about the same size as Shire horsesthe famous English Great Horse which had once borne knights into battle. But horses they were not.
Their origin seemed to stem from the same basic root as Man! They were ape-like creatures with wide kangaroo tails, their hind legs larger than the forelegs. They were on all fours now and saddles were on their backs. Their great heads, placid and intelligent, turned to look at us as we came down the steps.
I had a few qualms about mounting mine, since it did bear certain affinities to my own race, but once aboard it seemed natural that I should ride it.
Its back was wider than that of a horse and involved stretching one's legs out in front, and cupping the feet in the stirrups attached to another part of the harness up ahead. The saddle had a solid support allowing the rider to stretch backwards at ease. It was rather like being seated in a sports car, and was very comfortable.
In a kind of holster on my right were several lances, though I had no idea of their purpose. I found that by gentle tugs on the reins, the dahara would respond quickly to any command I made.
With Shizala leading the way, we trotted off through the plaza and down the main street of Varnal.
The city was as exquisite as ever under the deep yellow sun. The sky was cloudless and I began to relax, feeling that I could spend the rest of my life in Varnal and its surrounds. Here a dome caught the light and flashed brightly; there a little white house nestled between an impressive ziggurat on one side and a slender tower on the other. People moved about in a leisurely yet purposeful way. A fruit market was busy, but there was none of the noise and bustle of a similar Earthly market-place.
As we rode around the city, Shizala told me much about it.
The Karnala as a race had always been primarily traders. Their origins were the same as many races-they had started off as barbarian raiders and finally settled on one part of the country they had liked. But instead of turning to farming they had continued to travel as traders instead of raiders.
Because of daring expeditions to far parts of Vashu, they had become very rich, trading southern artifacts for northern precious metals, and so on.
The Karnala were also great artists, musicians and-what was highly worthwhile in terms of trade as well as everything else-the finest book producers in their world. The printing presses of Karnala, I learned, were of a flatbed type, not so fast as the rotary machines on Earth, but producing what appeared to my eye much sharper printing. The Sanskrit-like lettering I still could not read but, as Shizala took me round a small press, showing me some of the beautifully made books it produced, I soon learned to recognize many words as she pointed them out to me.
These books were in great demand across the whole continent and were a great asset to the Karnala, as were their artists and writers who produced the raw material.
Other industries thrived in Varnal. Their swordsmiths were also renowned throughout the world, I learned. The smiths still worked by the old methods, using furnace and anvil much as smiths on Earth worked-an earth that was yet to come, I realized.
Some farming was done now, but on a big scale and not by private landowners. Square miles of cereals were sown, I was told, and harvested all at once by volunteers from all over the Karnala nation. What was not used was stored in case of hard times, for the Karnala were well aware that a nation based on trade and industry cannot buy food in famine and will only survive if it can produce its own.
The absence of any places of worship was noticeable and I asked Shizala about this. She replied that there was no official religion of any kind, but for those who wanted to believe in a higher being it was better to look for Him in their own minds and hearts, not to seek Him in the words of others.
On the other hand, there were public schools, libraries, clinics, social centers, hotels and the like, and no one seemed under-privileged or unhappy in Varnal.
The Karnala political philosophy seemed to be one of armed neutrality. They were a strong nation and prepared for any attack. Besides this, an oldfashioned martial code still seemed to exist, because an aggressor never attacked without good warning.
After telling me this, Shizala added: "Apart from the more savage tribes, and they are no threat.
Those-and the Blue Giants."
"Who are the Blue Giants?" I asked.
"The Argzoon. They are fierce and without code or conscience. They dwell in the far north and only venture out on raids. They have only once come this far south, and then my father's army drove them away…" She bowed her head and tightened her grip of the reins.
"And never returned?" I said sympathetically, feeling I had to say something.
"Just so."
She jostled the reins and the dahara began to trot faster. I imitated her and we were soon galloping along the wide streets through which the delicate green mist wound, and up towards the golden hills-the Calling Hills.
We were soon out of the city and rushing through the strange trees which seemed to be calling for us as we moved among them.
After a while Shizala slowed her steed and I did likewise. She turned to me with a smile.
"I acted wilfully-I hope you will forgive me."
"I could forgive you anything," I said, almost without thinking.
She gave me a quizzical, intelligent look which again I could not interpret.
"Perhaps," she said. "I should mention…"
Again I spoke on impulse. "Let us not talk-we are interrupting the voices of the trees. Let us just ride and listen."
She smiled. "Very well."
As we rode I suddenly began to wonder how I was going to live on Mars. I had accepted that I would like to stay in the idyllic city of VarnalI would never willingly leave a place which sheltered such a graceful beauty as the girl riding beside me at that moment-but how was I going to earn my living?
As a scientist I could probably contribute something to the industries. It struck me that Shizala might be interested if I suggested that she elect me as some sort of Court Scientific Adviser! This would allow me to serve a useful function in the community and at the same time enable me to be close to her and see a great deal of her.
At that time, of course, I was acting almost intuitively. I had not as yet wondered if the customs of the Karnala would even permit me to propose marriage to Shizala-and, anyway, there was a very good chance that Shizala would want nothing to do with me. Why should she? Although she had not questioned what I had told her about where I had come from and how I had arrived on her planet, for all she knew I might be a lunatic.
My mind was confused as I rode along. At length we decided we had best return to the city and the palace, and I directed my strange steed back with some reluctance.