CHAPTER II – Thu­via, Maid of Mars sets the stage high above the Mar­t­ian ground, as a slen­der fli­er comes to rest atop the opu­lent palace of Helium’s nobil­i­ty. The rooftop land­ing bus­tles with rit­u­al, from the crisp salutes of war­riors to the jew­eled hands of noble­women who aid their guest with respect­ful care. Vas Kor, arriv­ing with cal­cu­lat­ed com­po­sure, steps from the craft to face the for­mal wel­come of Kar Komak, the Jed of greater Heli­um, and is soon enveloped in the cer­e­mo­ni­al rou­tines that sep­a­rate out­sider from hon­ored vis­i­tor. Every detail—the dig­ni­fied greet­ing, the lay­ers of pro­to­col, the care­ful scruti­ny exchanged in brief glances—reflects the deep tra­di­tions and polit­i­cal sen­si­tiv­i­ties that gov­ern Barsoom’s great hous­es.

In this atmos­phere thick with cus­tom and sus­pi­cion, Vas Kor seeks an audi­ence with the Jed. He appeals to the ancient laws of hos­pi­tal­i­ty, pro­fess­ing a mis­sion of peace rather than sub­terfuge, though his words car­ry a hint of urgency. The con­ver­sa­tion unfolds with mea­sured cau­tion; Kar Komak lis­tens in silence, nei­ther quick to trust nor overt­ly hos­tile, his man­ner that of a ruler weigh­ing each word for hid­den mean­ing. Vas Kor, aware of the stakes, frames his pres­ence as one born not from self-inter­est, but from a desire to avert war and serve the house of Heli­um. He implores the Jed to believe in his inten­tions, invok­ing the hope for peace as a sacred charge.

After a pro­longed exchange that touch­es on mat­ters both open and unspo­ken, Kar Komak sig­nals for his guest to be shown to quar­ters deep with­in the palace’s wind­ing cor­ri­dors. With the audi­ence con­clud­ed, the Jed qui­et­ly sum­mons his major­do­mo and gives care­ful instruc­tions to ensure Vas Kor’s move­ments will be close­ly mon­i­tored. The palace, a mar­vel of Mar­t­ian engi­neer­ing, tow­ers with its many guest cham­bers, each a tes­ta­ment to the planet’s ancient cus­toms and the grandeur of its rul­ing class. Vas Kor, alone in his assigned room, pon­ders the uncer­tain out­come of his mission—caught between the per­il of being revealed as a Dusar­i­an noble and the pos­si­ble advan­tage that might come from the Jed’s curios­i­ty or need.

Tak­ing advan­tage of the pri­va­cy, Vas Kor sheds his out­er gar­ments, reveal­ing beneath them the unmis­tak­able har­ness of a less­er Heli­u­mite noble—an emblem that grants both priv­i­lege and poten­tial dan­ger depend­ing on the observer’s loy­al­ty. He bathes and pre­pares him­self with the regal trap­pings of a house guest, care­ful to dis­play only what is expect­ed. The net­work of annun­ci­a­tors in the room makes it effort­less to sum­mon a ser­vant, reflect­ing the lux­u­ry and dis­ci­pline that per­me­ate Helium’s upper ech­e­lons.

Soon, at Vas Kor’s request, he is brought once again before Kar Komak. The Jed’s sum­mon­ing is swift and direct, a sign of both author­i­ty and intrigue. The inter­play between guest and host is a del­i­cate one: the Jed seeks to uncov­er the real motives behind Vas Kor’s vis­it, while Vas Kor aims to nav­i­gate these sus­pi­cions with both can­dor and strate­gic ambi­gu­i­ty. The encounter hints at the com­plex dance of Mar­t­ian pol­i­tics, where alliances shift with cir­cum­stance and every ges­ture car­ries mean­ing beyond the sur­face.

This chap­ter high­lights the grandeur and strict for­mal­i­ty of Helium’s soci­ety, draw­ing read­ers deep­er into the cer­e­mo­ni­al life and sub­tle ten­sions of Barsoom’s aris­toc­ra­cy. Through Vas Kor’s per­spec­tive, the text cap­tures both the awe inspired by the palace’s achieve­ments and the ever-present risk of polit­i­cal mis­step. In this world, iden­ti­ty is as much a mask as a truth, and sur­vival depends on read­ing the cur­rents of pow­er as skill­ful­ly as nav­i­gat­ing the skies. The chap­ter leaves Vas Kor and the Jed poised at the brink of a decision—one that may deter­mine not only the fate of their own hous­es, but the del­i­cate bal­ance of peace on Mars itself.