Fray wore his harness over a plain brown robe. His features were concealed by this robe, but the green man knew who he was. For the last year in Thark there had been rumors of a man lurking about their territory. There had been a few isolated incidents, and the Tharks had come out the losers. The stranger was rumored to possess a marvelous technology that always guaranteed him victory. His swordsmanship was said to be equal to John Carter's. The green man knew it to be true for he had met the stranger before. And the stranger had asked for Gator Nel to come and meet him personally.

Gator Nel had come for he was a little bit more intelligent and thus more curious than his fellows. This strange man had haunted him since the day Gator had backed down from the human in a fair fight, deciding to live and fight another day. Now he waited for the man to speak.

"Kaor, Gator Nel," said the human. He spoke pleasantly, without mirth or malice. "I am pleased that you have come."

"Am I a slave to run at your call, human? Your message said you have important business with me. Let's get to it," growled the green giant.

"If you were a slave, I would have no interest in you. I want to know who is that greatest green warrior on Barsoom," said Fray.

Gator Nel flipped his leg over the thoat and slid to the ground. Towering over Fray he speculated on the human's small size and large audacity. Then he laughed, a huge, mirthless laugh that mocked the man.

"And what would a little man like you want with such a warrior?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips. Although Gator Nel had seen Fray slay two green men with ease, it was his conclusion that it had been done with some sort of scientific trick rather than swordplay.

"The savagery and fighting heart of the green man of Barsoom is well known. I would like to test my mettle against one of their best," said Fray. He took a few steps closer to Gator Nel. "This is no joke."

The green man put his hand on the hilt of his long sword. Though few of his breed were cowards, Gator Nel was a little brighter than most of his brothers , and he knew there was something dangerous about this strange man. He wasn't sure if it was a technological advantage or a martial one. He had come to this meeting with Fray in the hope of discovering what the hooded man's advantage was and if he could use it for his own good. What interested Gator Nel particularly was Fray's ability to stop a bullet from hitting him. The last time Gator Nel had fought Fray this is exactly what had happened. If there was a way that the green men could become invulnerable to rifle fire, this would greatly enhance their ability to make war on the red men. Of course Tars Tarkas was at peace with Helium, since the coming of John Carter, but there were other red men to fight. The green men must live by plunder on a world swept clean of resources.

"Few red men can fight one of us man-to-man," said Gator Nel slowly. "We are too large and skillful for them. Could you meet one of us naked except for your sword? Is this the way you want to test your mettle?"

"Yes."

"What could you offer a champion to fight you? I see no riches behind you. No herd of thoats, no harem of women. I see no booty that a champion can claim once you are slain. What do you have to offer, faceless one?" the greenman taunted.

"The answer is in your own mind, green man," said Fray evenly.

Gator Nel reviewed what he had last thought. Obviously the man was reading his mind, but Gator Nel couldn't do the same to Fray. When he tried it was as though Fray wasn't there. In fact, the effort of trying made the green man's head swim so badly it took a severe mental effort to remain standing still.

"You refer to the time our bullets failed to reach you?" snarled the green warrior. He resented the difficulty he suffered when dealing with this puny human. Like most greenmen Gator Nel did not fear death. If anything he sought it in the glorious pursuit of battle. What discomforted Gator Nel about Fray was the impression that the human could slay him at any time, regardless of Gator Nel's own formidable combat skills.The green warrior took some comfort in the rationalization that it was Fray's technology that granted him superiority. Man-to-man, naked in the dirt, Gator Nel thought he had a chance against anyone or anything.

Fray restrained a smile. The green man's thoughts were easy to follow. His warrior-mind was fascinating to touch. Like most of his kind, Gator Nel structured his mind along a martial pattern against which all other concerns were almost trivial. This creature lived to fight. Love, and even sex was dimmed by his desire to be the best fighter and greatest chieftain. Barsoom was so miserly poor in resources that the only way these people could survive was to take what they wanted by brute force. So they developed a social structure that advocated that brutality. They selected their progeny according to these criteria. There was something different about Gator Nel, though. This was a mind that could think beyond the brutal subject matter that dominated most green men. There was a trace of depth to Gator Nel's mind, and Fray wondered if that depth reached down to an ancient time when the green men were a healthier race in a healthy world.

"I refer to the thing you want. What all green men want. An advantage over the red men. Or at least an equalizer. While your gunsmiths can make and repair rifles and pistols, you are not technologically equipped to compete with the red men on a grander scale. That day, one year ago, when we faced each other it wasn't fear that stopped you from attacking me it was curiosity and greed. You saw a military advantage and wanted it for yourself. Or at least for the green warriors of Barsoom. The other two green men who died that day were limited to their lust to kill, while you showed true courage and a knowledge of warfare by stalling your lusts until you obtained the greater prize. This is why I have called you, today, Gator Nel."

Gator Nel laughed harshly. His large hand closed on the pommel of his long sword. "Are you saying I am easier to manipulate than my brothers?"

"In a way. A good way. You are more intelligent. Thus you see options beyond the cleverness of a shrewd warrior Whether you are manipulated is for you to decide."

Gator Nel wanted to kill this human. But he wanted his power more. His wide mouth split in a vicious grin. "How will you deliver the prize to us if you are killed? And you surely will be."

Fray pointed to a spot behind Gator Nel. The green warrior turned and saw a two-man flier hovering about twenty yards away at a height of 70 feet.

"That is mine. In it is all my knowledge and secrets. When I die, if I die, it will deliver itself to you to do with as you will. Is this sufficient?" asked the robed man.

"I am unsure. How will we unravel your secrets?"

Fray smiled in the shadow of his cowl. "I can't do everything for you, green man. The prize will be yours. All your man has to do is kill me. What do you have to lose?"

Gator Nel lifted his massive fist and shook it at Fray. "You will die, human. Our fighter will be Quater Dot, if he agrees. Most of our tribe believes he could kill Tars Tarkas himself in fair combat. You will die, most assuredly."

"We shall see," replied Fray, keeping his doubts about that bold claim to himself.

Fray arrived in his flier a few minutes early. It had taken him ten years to find a downed flier, collect the parts from here and there, and transform a piece of junk into the technological marvel that he now owned. Ten long years of labor to reconstruct a war machine common to those found on his own world. He had arrived naked on Barsoom, like all arrivals, armed with only his magnificent body and advanced technological skills. This advent was ten years in the waiting. He leaped from his flier onto the mossy arena floor. He was naked, except for his long sword. His red hair blazed in the sun as he walked slowly to the center of the circle where his opponent waited.

Quater Dot was a atavism among green warriors. He stood 17-feet tall, truly a giant among giants. His intermediate set of limbs were set in a way that provided him with greater ability to go on all fours. Fray believed that the green men were once centaurian in form and function. For some reason they had selected in the past half million years to become more and more bipedal. That may be because of the domestication of the thoat. Their dependency on their great mounts changed their society and form, though it was possible, in Fray's mind, that the green men were subconsciously trying to become more like the red men of Barsoom, who obviously dominated the planet.

But this warrior before him was a pure green Barsoomian war machine. As Fray approached Quater Dot rolled his jaw until his great tusks pointed at the human with a menacing intent. The green giant laughed and roared and mocked his much smaller opponent and glared at him with protruding eyes. Quater relied on primitive posturing, and the waving of his eight foot long sword, to intimidate his foe. He didn't talk or shout like other green men would.

As he got within the green monster's range, Fray felt a knifing of fear. Reaching out with his telepathic abilities he discovered that Quater Dot was qualitatively different from the other green men he had fought. With the others, Fray had been able to read their intentions in combat, and thus knew what they were going to do just a instant before they had done it. His own swift sword had been enough to use that moment to his successful advantage.

But Quater Dot was different. His mind was totally immersed in his actions to the degree that thought and action happened at the same time. Fray would have no telepathic advantage here.

Gator Nel stepped out of the circle of green men and addressed Fray. "You have what you wanted, human. And when you die, we will have what we want."

With the experience of a veteran, Fray never looked at Gator Nel. It was a ploy to distract his attention from the enemy in front of him. Nothing must distract him from his opponent or he would surely die.

Quater Dot attacked as soon as Fray was in good range. His long back humped over in an arch as he down slashed at his much shorter opponent. His attack was furious and blinding. Without telepathic aid, Fray fell back on his own skills, struggling to defend himself. In the first few moments of contact, Quater Dot learned that he had no strength advantage over the human. He had tried to beat down on him from above, while keeping the shorter man too far away to strike. But Fray managed to catch the green man's blade each time it came close in a brilliant display of defense.

Quater Dot dropped to fours suddenly, lowering himself to chest on ground, and slashing accurately at Fray's feet. The human was nearly caught by this maneuver, but countered by leaping high in the air. Quater Dot pushed off the ground, as if expecting this defense, and came up with the point of his sword arching up to skewer the human as he came down. Fray beat down with his sword, twisted in mid air, but still took a wound on his left side that sprayed blood into the air. The Thark spectators roared at first blood. Their weapons clashed together in applause.

Fray scrambled on the mossy ground. Quater Dot's sword touched him again before he could raise a proper defense. And thus it went on. Quater Dot on the offensive and Fray on the defensive,. barely staying alive. Ten minutes later Fray was bleeding from a dozen wounds and the greenmen had yet to be cut.

Fray used his unearthly agility and leaping power to get behind the Thark. This was countered by those protruding eyes that caught Fray's attack and countered. Quater Dot confused the human by changing between a two legged to a four legged stance. This lengthened and shortened the green man's range and kept Fray at a disadvantage. The truth was that Fray just couldn't get past the green man's lengthy guard. The Thark was too good a swordsman to be fooled with tricks, too fast for the swift human, and had too long a reach whether up or down in stance.

As time wore on so did Fray. His strenght was leaving with his blood. There seemed no way to win. Then one way came to him.

He set the Thark up with a series of defensive parries designed to bait his opponent to thrust. When the Thark finally did, Fray didn't parry, he gambled, and took the blade in the meaty part of his left breast, just under the collar bone. The sword passed through, tearing flesh and muscle, but hitting no vital organs, as Fray virtually impaled himself on its length to get closer to his foe. With a lightning swift motion, Fray severed Quater Dot's swordhand and leaped back at nearly the same time. He landed in a crouch and rocketed forward immediately to attack with his sword. Quater Dot smashed down with a fist, deflecting the human's attack, but not before Fray's sword sliced into his abdomen. Quater Dot twisted and fell away from Fray who also hit the ground on a roll.

Still skewered by his foe's longsword, Fray's mind reeled from the agony of his wound. He telepathically shut down his own pain centers and forced his mind to clear. Up on his knees he realized he couldn't remove the sword by himself. Instead he looked around for the green warrior. Quater Dot was pushing himself up. He had no mental techniques to control his pain. He simply ignored it in a primeval effort to rise and destroy his enemy. He got up on four legs and used his last hand to cup his internal organs back in his belly. His eyes jerked spasmodically until he located Fray. His jaw lowered and his tusks pointed at the human. Every muscle in his body tensed as he poised to attack.

Quater Dot charged, more fury than fight, and ran himself into Fray's sword. Fray went down under 500 lb. of green warrior, showered by green man blood.

The Thark crowd was motionless. Soundless. Rarely had they seen such a magnificent battle. They were further stunned when Fray wriggled out from Quater Dot's body. He lifted to his feet and beckoned to Gator Nel.

The green man walked over to him slowly. Quater Dot's weight had made his wound worse. The red-headed man was swaying and close to fainting from lack of blood.

"Pull the sword out," he demanded of Gator Nel.

Gator Nel paused. If he should kill the human the booty might be his. If not the technology of this man will be lost to his people. The man had fought fairly against their champion, yet Gator Nel had no loyalty to this man.

"Pull the sword out, Gator Nel," asked Fray.

Gator Nel put his large hand on Quater Dot's sword. Roughly, he withdrew it from Fray's rigid body. Then he dropped it on the ground in front of the human. Immediately Fray's flier landed smoothly next to him. It opened up and Fray put a foot on the ramp.

"Quater Dot was the ultimate green warrior. And he died as such. There is more to life than that, Gator Nel. Try to learn something from what happened today."

"I learned I am a fool," Gator Nel growled.

"I don't think so," said Fray. "And neither do you."

Fray entered his craft and the door closed behind him. It rose and flew away. Gator Nel looked at the puddle of red blood where the human had stood. He understood the human. His message was to create, not destroy. Create relationships, technologies, sciences, and other things to improve the lives of his people. Gator Nel turned and looked at his brethren. Already they were returning to their lives. So many will die in violence, with nothing to show for it. Gator Nel would think about what he might do to show a difference from his life.