All Episodes

September 24, 2025 25 mins
Dive into The Gods of Mars, the captivating 1918 science fiction novel by Edgar Rice Burroughs, and the second installment of his iconic Barsoom series. This groundbreaking tale not only shaped the landscape of science fiction but also left an indelible mark on beloved franchises like Star Trek and Farscape. While Burroughs drew inspiration from the pulp fiction of his era, particularly westerns and swashbuckling adventures, his unique pacing and compelling themes paved the way for the soft science fiction genre. Join the fearless John Carter, a master of hand-to-hand combat and a charmer of enchanting alien women, whose character set a precedent for later icons such as Captain James T. Kirk and James Bond. Picking up after the events of A Princess of Mars, this sequel follows John Carters unexpected return to Barsoom (Mars) after a decade apart from his wife, Dejah Thoris, and their unborn child. However, his arrival is anything but ordinary, as he finds himself trapped in the Valley Dor‚Aîthe one place on Barsoom where no one is permitted to leave, believed to be the Barsoomian afterlife.
Mark as Played
Transcript

Episode Transcript

Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:01):
This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in
the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please
visit LibriVox dot org. The Gods of Mars written by
Edgar Rice Burroughs and read by J. D. Weber on
the south shores of Lake Superior. Chapter fourteen, The eyes

(00:23):
in the dark, my son, I could not believe my ears.
Slowly I rose and faced the handsome youth. Now that
I looked at him closely, I commenced to see why
his face and personality had attracted me so strongly. There
was much of his mother's incomparable beauty in his clear
cut features, but it was strongly masculine beauty, and his

(00:43):
gray eyes, in the expression of them, were mine. The
boy stood facing me, half hope and half uncertainty in
his look. Tell me of your mother, I said, Tell
me all you can, of the years that I have
been robbed by a relentless fate of her dear companionship.
With a cry of pleasure, he sprang toward me and
threw his arms about my neck. And for a brief moment,

(01:04):
as I held my boy close to me, the tears
welled to my eyes and I was like to have
choked after the manner of some mad'ling fool. But I
do not regret it, nor am I ashamed. A long
life has taught me that a man may seem weak
where women and children are concerned, and yet be anything
but a weakling in the sterner avenues of life. Your stature,

(01:24):
your manner, the terrible ferocity of your swordmanship, said the boy,
are as my mother has described them to me a
thousand times. But even with such evidence, I could scarce
credit the truth of what seemed so improbable to me,
however much I desired it to be true. Do you
know what thing it was that convinced me more than
all the others? What, my boy, I asked? Your first

(01:46):
words to me? They were of my mother. None else
but the man who loved her, as she has told
me my father did, would have thought first of her
for long years. My son, I can scarce recall a
moment that the radiant vision of your mother's face has
not been ever before me. Tell me of her. Those
who have known her longest say that she has not changed,

(02:07):
unless it be to grow more beautiful. Were that possible
only when she thinks I am not about to see her.
Her face grows very sad and oh so wistful. She
thinks ever of you, my father, and all Helium mourns
with her and for her. Her grandfather's people love her.
They loved you also, and fairly worship your memory as

(02:27):
the savior of Barsoom. Each year that brings its anniversary
of the day that saw you racing across a near
dead world to unlock the secret of that awful portal
behind which lay the mighty power of life. For countless millions,
a great festivals held in your honor. But there are
tears mingled with thanksgiving, tears of real regret that the

(02:47):
author of the happiness is not with them to share
the joy of living. He died to give them. Upon
all Barsoom, there is no greater name than John Carter.
And by what name has your mother called you? My boy?

Speaker 2 (02:59):
I asked the people of Helium, asked that I be
named with my father's name. But my mother said no,
that you and she had chosen a name for me together,
and that your wish must be honored before all others.
So the name that she called me is the one
that you desired. A combination of hers and yours. Carthoris
Exoter had been at the wheel as I talked with

(03:20):
my son, and now he called me, she is dropping
badly by the head, John Carter, he said, So long
as we were rising at a stiff angle, it was
not noticeable. But now that I am trying to keep
a horizontal course, it is different. The wound in her
bow has opened one of her forward ray tanks. It
was true, and after I had examined the damage, I
found it a much graver matter than I had anticipated.

(03:43):
Not only was the forced angle at which we were
compelled to maintain the bow in order to keep a
horizontal course greatly impeding our speed, but at the rate
that we were losing our repulsive rays from the forward tanks,
it was but a question of an hour or more
when we would be floating, stern up and helpless us.
We had slightly reduced our speed with the dawning of
a sense of security. But now I took the helm

(04:05):
once more and pulled the noble little engine wide open,
so that again we raced north at terrific velocity. In
the meantime, Cathors and Exodar, with tools in hand, were
puttering with the great rent in the bow in a
hopeless endeavor to stem the tide of escaping rays. It
was still dark when we passed the northern boundary of
the ice cap, and the area of clouds below us

(04:27):
lay a typical Martian landscape, rolling oach or sea, bottom
of long dead seas, low surrounding hills, with here and
there the grim and silent cities of the dead past,
great piles of mighty architecture, tenanted only by age old
memories of a once powerful race, and by the great
white apes of Barsoom. It was becoming more and more
difficult to maintain our little vessel in a horizontal position.

(04:50):
Lower and lower sagged the bow until it became necessary
to stop the engine to prevent our flight, terminating in
a swift dive to the ground. As the sun rose
in the l light of a new day swept away
the darkness of night, our craft gave a final spasmodic plunge,
turned half upon her side, and then, with deck tilting
at a sickening angle, swung in a slow circle, her

(05:12):
bow dropping further below her stern each moment to hand
rail and stanchion. We clung, and finally, as we saw
the end approaching, snapped the buckles of our harness to
the rings at her sides. In another moment, the deck
reared at an angle of ninety degrees, and we hung
in our leather with feet dangling a thousand yards above
the ground. I was swinging quite close to the controlling devices,

(05:34):
so I reached out to the lever that directed the
rays of repulsion. The boat responded to the touch, and
very gently we began to sink toward the ground. It
was fully half an hour before we touched. Directly north
of us rose a rather lofty range of hills, towards
which we decided to make our way, since they afforded
greater opportunity for concealment from the pursuers we were confident

(05:57):
might stumble in this direction. An hour later found us
in the time rounded gullies of the hills, amid the
beautiful flowering plants that abound in the arid waste places
of Barsoom. There we found numbers of huge milk giving shrubs,
that strange plant which serves in great part as food
and drink for the wild hordes of green men. It
was indeed a boon to us, for we all were

(06:19):
nearly famished beneath a cluster of these, which afforded perfect
concealment from wandering air scouts. We lay down to sleep,
for me the first time in many hours. This was
the beginning of my fifth day upon Barsoom, since I
had found myself suddenly translated from my cottage on the
Hudson to door the valley beautiful, the valley hideous. In

(06:39):
all this time I had slept but twice, though once
the clock round within the storehouse of the Thns. It
was mid afternoon when I was awakened by some one
seizing my hand and covering it with kisses. With a start,
I opened my eyes to look into the beautiful face
of Thuvia, my prince, My prince, she cried, and in
ecstasy of happiness, tis you whom I had mourned as dead.

(07:01):
My ancestors have been good to me. I have not
lived in vain. The girl's voice awoke Exeter on Carthoris.
The boy gazed upon the woman in surprise, but she
did not seem to realize the presence of another than I.
She would have thrown her arms about my neck and
smothered me with caresses had I not gently, but firmly
disengaged myself. Come, Come, Thuvia, I said, soothingly, you are

(07:23):
overwrought by the danger and hardships you have passed through.
You forget yourself as you forget that I am the
husband of the Princess of Helium. I forget nothing, my prince,
she replied, you have spoken no word of love to me,
nor do I expect that you ever shall. But nothing
can prevent me loving you. I would not take the
place of dejah Thoris. My greatest ambition is to serve you,

(07:45):
my prince, for ever is your slave. No greater boon
could I ask, No greater honor could I crave, No
greater happiness could I hope, as I have before said,
I am no lady's man, and I must admit that
I seldom have felt so uncomfortable and embarrassed as I
did that moment. While I was quite familiar with the
Martian custom, which allows female slaves to Martian men, whose

(08:06):
high and chivalrous honor is always ample protection for every
woman in his household, yet I had never myself chosen
other than men as my body servants, and I ever
returned to Helium. Thuvia, I said, you shall go with me,
but as an honored equal, and not as a slave.
There you shall find plenty of handsome young nobles who
would face Issus herself to win a smile from you,

(08:29):
and we shall have you married in short order to
one of the best of them. Forget your foolish gratitude,
begot an infatuation which your innocence has mistaken for love.
I like your friendship better, Thuvia, You are my master.
It shall be as you say, she replied simply, but
there was a note of sadness in her voice. How
came you here, Thuvia, I asked, And where is tars Tarkas?

(08:52):
The great thark I fear is dead? She replied sadly.
He was a mighty fighter, but a multitude of green
warriors of another hoarde than his overwhelmed him. The last
that I saw of him, they were bearing him wounded
and bleeding, to the deserted city from which they had
sallied to attack us. You are not sure that he
is dead, then I asked, And where is the city

(09:14):
of which you speak? It is just beyond this range
of hills the vessel on which you so nobly resigned,
a place that we might find escape. Defied our small
skill in navigation, with the result that we drifted aimlessly
about for two days. Then we decided to abandon the
craft and attempt to make our way on foot to
the nearest waterway. Yesterday we crossed these hills and came

(09:35):
upon the dead city beyond. We had passed within its
streets and were walking toward the central portion, when at
an intersecting avenue we saw a body of green warriors
approaching Tars. Tarkas was in advance, and they saw him,
but me They did not see. The thark sprang back
to my side and forced me into an adjacent doorway,
where he told me to remain in hiding until I

(09:56):
could escape, making my way to Helium if possible. There
will be no escape for me now, he said, for
these be the Warhoon of the South. When they have
seen my meddle, it will be to the death. Then
he stepped out to meet them, Ah, my prince. Such
fighting for an hour, they had swarmed about him until
the Warhoon dead formed a hill where he had stood.

(10:17):
But at last they overwhelmed him, those behind, pushing the
foremost upon him until there remained no space to swing
his great sword. Then he stumbled and went down, and
they rolled over him like a huge wave. When they
carried him away toward the heart of the city, he
was dead, I think, for I did not see him move.
Before we go farther, we must be sure, I said,
I cannot leave tars Tarkas alive among the warhoons to night.

(10:41):
I shall enter the city and make sure, and I
shall go with you, spoke Carthoris, and I said Exodar,
Neither one of you shall go. I replied, it is
work that requires stealth and strategy, not force. One man
alone may succeed where more would invite disaster. I shall
go alone. If I need your help, I will return
for you. They did not like it, but both were

(11:03):
good soldiers, and it had been agreed that I should command.
The sun already was low, so that I did not
have long to wait before the sudden darkness of Barsoom
engulfed us. With a parting word of instructions to Carthoris
and Exodar in case I should not return, I bade
them all farewell and set forth at a rapid dog
trot towards the city. As I emerged from the hills,

(11:24):
the nearer, moon was winging its wild flight through the heavens,
its bright beams turning to burnished silver, the barbaric splendor
of the ancient metropolis. The city had been built upon
the gently rolling foothills that in the dim and distant
past had sloped down to meet the sea. It was
due to this fact that I had no difficulty in
entering the streets unobserved. The green hordes that used these

(11:45):
deserted cities seldom occupy more than a few squares about
the central plaza, and as they come and go always
across the dead sea bottoms that the city's face, it
is usually a matter of comparative ease to enter from
the hillside. Once within the streets, I kept close in
the dense shadows of the walls. At intersections, I halted
a moment to make sure that none was in sight,

(12:06):
before I sprang quickly to the shadows of the opposite side.
Thus I made the journey to the vicinity of the
plaza without detection. As I approached the purluce of the
inhabited portion of the city, I was made aware of
the proximity of the warriors quarters by the squealing and
grunting of the thorts and the zididars, corralled within the
hollow courtyards formed by the buildings surrounding each square. These old,

(12:29):
familiar sounds that are so distinctive of Green Martian life,
sent a thrill of pleasure surging through me. It was
as one might feel on coming home after a long absence.
It was amid such sounds that I had first quartered
the incomparable dejah Thoris in the age old marble halls
of the dead city of Korad. As I stood in
the shadows at the far corner of the first square,
which housed members of the Horde, I saw warriors emerging

(12:53):
from several of the buildings. They all went in the
same direction toward a great building which stood in the
center of the plaza. College of Green Martian customs convinced
me that this was either the quarters of the principal
chieftain or contain the audience chamber wherein the Jeddak met
his jeds in lesser chieftains. In either event, it was
evident that something was afoot which might have a bearing

(13:14):
on the recent capture of Tars Tarkas. To reach this building,
which I now felt and imperative that I do. I
must needs traverse the entire length of one square and
cross a broad avenue and a portion of the plaza.
From the noises of the animals which came from every
courtyard about me, I knew that there were many people
in the surrounding buildings, probably several communities of the Great

(13:35):
Horde of the Warhoons of the South. To pass undetected
among all these people was in itself a difficult task,
But if I was to find and rescue the Great Thark,
I must expect even more formidable obstacles before success could
be mine. I had entered the city from the south
and now stood on the corner of the avenue through
which I had passed, and the first intersecting avenue south

(13:56):
of the plaza. The buildings upon the south side of
this square did not appear to be inhabited, as I
could see no lights, and so I decided to gain
the inner courtyard through one of them. Nothing occurred to
interrupt my progress to the deserted pile I chose, and
I came into the inner court, close to the rear
walls of the east buildings without detection. Within the court,
a great herd of thwarts and zitidars moved restlessly about

(14:19):
cropping the mosslike ochre vegetation which overgrows practically the entire
uncultivated area of Mars. What breeze there was came from
the northwest, so there was little danger that the beasts
would scent me. Had they, their squealing and grunting would
have grown to such a volume as to track the
attention of the warriors. Within the buildings close to the
east wall, beneath the overhanging balconies of the second floors,

(14:42):
I crept in dense shadows the full length of the
courtyard until I came to the buildings on the north end.
These were lighted for about three floors up, but above
the third floor all was dark. To pass through the
lighted rooms was, of course out of the question, since
they swarmed with green Martian men in women. My only
path lay through the upper floors, and to gain these

(15:04):
it was necessary to scale the face of the wall.
The reaching of the balcony of the second floor was
a matter of easy accomplishment, and agile leap gave my
hands a grasp upon the stone hand rail above. In
another instant I had drawn myself upon the balcony. Here,
through the open windows, I saw the green folks squatting
upon their sleeping silks and furs, grunting an occasional monosyllable, which,

(15:25):
in connection with their wondrous telepathic powers, is ample for
their conversational requirements. As I drew closer to listen to
their words, a warrior entered the room from the hall beyond.
Come Tangama. He cried, we are to take the thark
before cab Kadja. Bring another with you. The warrior, dressed
a rose and beckoning a fellow squatting near, the three

(15:46):
turned and left the apartment. If I could but follow them,
the chance might come to free tars Tarkas. At once.
At least I would learn the location of his prison.
At my right was a door leading from the balcony
into the building. It was at the end of an
unlike hall, and on the impulse of the moment I
stepped within. The hall was broad and led straight through
to the front of the building. On either side were

(16:08):
the doorways of the various apartments which lined it. I
had no more than entered the corridor than I saw
the three warriors at the other end, those whom I
had just seen leaving the apartment. Then he turned to
the right took them from my sight again. Quickly I
hastened along the hallway in pursuit. My gait was reckless,
but I felt that fate had been kind indeed, to
throw such an opportunity within my grasp, and I could

(16:31):
not afford to allow it to elude me. Now, at
the far end of the corridor, I found a spiral
stairway leading to the floors above and below. The three
had evidently left the floor by this avenue. That they
had gone down and not up. I was sure. For
my knowledge of these ancient buildings and the methods of
the Warhoons, I myself had once been a prisoner of
the cruel hordes of Northern Warhoon, and the memory of

(16:53):
the underground dungeon in which I lay still as vivid
in my memory. And so I felt certain that tars
Tarkas lay in the dark pits beneath some nearby building,
and that in that direction I should find the trail
of the three warriors leading to his cell. Nor was
I wrong. At the bottom of the runway, or rather
at the landing on the floor below, I saw that
the shaft ascended into the pits beneath, and as I

(17:15):
glanced down, the flickering light of a torch revealed the
presence of the three I was trailing down. They went
toward the pits beneath the structure, and at a safe
distance behind, I followed the flicker of their torch. The
way led through a maze of tortuous corridors, unlighted save
for the wavering light they carried. We had gone perhaps
a hundred yards when the party turned abruptly through a

(17:35):
doorway at their right. I hastened on as rapidly as
I dared through the darkness until I reached the point
at which they had left the corridor. There, through an
open door, I saw them removing the chains that secured
the great thark Tars Tarkas to the wall, hustling him
roughly between them. They came immediately from the chamber, so quickly,
in fact, that I was near to being apprehended. But

(17:57):
I managed to run along the corridor in the direction
I had been going in my pursuit of them, far
enough to be without the radius of their meager light.
As they emerged from the cell, I had naturally assumed
that they would return with tars Tarkas the same way
that they had come, which would have carried them away
from me. But to my chagrin, they wheeled directly in
my direction as they left the room. There was nothing

(18:18):
for me but to hasten on in advance and keep
out of the light of their torch. I dared not
attempt to halt in the darkness of any of the
many intersecting corridors, for I knew nothing of the direction
they might take. Chance was as likely as not to
carry me into the very corridor they might choose to enter.
The sensation of moving rapidly through these dark passages was

(18:39):
far from reassuring. I knew not at what moment I
might plunge headlong into some terrible pit, or meet with
some of the ghoulish creatures that inhabit these lower worlds
Beneath the dead cities of Dying Mars. There filtered to
me a faint radiance from the torch of the men behind,
just enough to permit me to trace the direction of
the winding passageways directly before me, and so keep me

(19:00):
from dashing myself against the walls at the turns. Presently
I came to a place where five corridors diverged from
a common point. I had hastened along one of them
for some little distance when suddenly the faint light of
the torch disappeared from behind me. I paused to listen
for sounds of the party behind me, but the silence
was as utter as the silence of the tomb. Quickly

(19:21):
I realized that the warriors had taken one of the
other corridors with their prisoner, and so I hastened back,
with a feeling of considerable relief, to take up a
much safer and more desirable position behind them. It was
much slower work returning, however, than it had been coming.
For now the darkness was as utter as the silence.
It was necessary to feel every foot of the way

(19:41):
back with my hand against the side wall, that I
might not pass the spot where the five roads radiated.
After what seemed an eternity to me, I reached the
place and recognized it by groping across the entrances to
the several corridors, until I had counted five of them in.
Not one, however, showed the faintest sign of light. I
listened intently, but the naked feet of the green men

(20:03):
sent back no guiding echoes, though presently I thought I
detected the clank of side arms in the far distance
of the middle corridor. Up this then I hastened, searching
for the light and stopping to listen occasionally for a
repetition of the sound. But soon I was forced to
admit that I must have been following a blind lead,
as only darkness and silence rewarded my efforts. Again, I

(20:25):
retraced my steps toward the parting of the ways, when
to my surprise I came upon the entrance to three
diverging corridors, any one of which I might have traversed
in my hasty dash after the false clue I had
been following. Here was a pretty fix. Indeed, once back
at the point where the five passageways met, I might
wait with some assurance for the return of the warriors

(20:45):
with tars Tarkas my knowledge of their customs lent color
to the belief that he was but being escorted to
the audience chamber to have sentence passed upon him. I
had not the slightest doubt but that they would preserve
so doughty a warrior as the great Thark for the
rare sport he would furnish at the great Games. But
unless I could find my way back to that point,

(21:05):
the chances were most excellent that I would wander for
days through the awful blackness, until overcome by thirst and hunger,
I lay down to die. Or what was that? A
faint shuffling sounded behind me, And as I cast a
hasty glance over my shoulder, my blood froze in my veins.
For the thing I saw there. It was not so
much fear of the present danger as it was the

(21:27):
horrifying memories it recalled of that time I near went
mad over the corpse of the man I had killed
in the dungeons of the Warhoons, when blazing eyes came
out of the dark recesses and dragged the thing that
had been a man from my clutches, and I heard
it scraping over the stone of my prison as they
bored away to their terrible feast. And now in these
black pits of the other Warhoons, I looked into those

(21:48):
same fiery eyes blazing at me through the terrible darkness,
revealing no sign of the beast behind them. I think
that the most fearsome attribute of these awesome creatures as
their silence and the fact that one never seized them,
nothing but those baleful eyes glaring unblinkingly out of the
dark void behind. Grasping my long sword tightly in my hand,

(22:09):
I backed slowly along the corridor away from the thing
that watched me. But ever as I retreated, the eyes advanced.
Nor was there any sound, not even the sound of breathing,
except the occasional shuffling sound, as of the dragging of
a dead limb that had first attracted my attention. On
and on I went, but I could not escape my
sinister pursuer. Suddenly I heard the shuffling noise at my right,

(22:32):
and looking saw another pair of eyes, evidently approaching from
an intersecting corridor. As I started to renew my slow retreat,
I heard the noise repeated behind me, and then before
I could turn, I heard it again at my left.
The things were all about me. They had me surrounded
at the intersection of two corridors. Retreat was cut off
in all directions unless I chose to charge one of

(22:53):
the beasts. Even then, I had no doubt but that
the others would hurl themselves upon my back. I could
not even guess the sign eyes or nature the weird
creatures that they were of goodly proportions. I guess from
the fact that the eyes were on a level with
my own. Why is it that darkness so magnifies our dangers?
By day? I would have charged the great banth itself,
had I thought it necessary, But hemmed in by darkness

(23:16):
of these silent pits, I hesitated before a pair of eyes.
Soon I saw that the matter shortly would be taken
entirely from my hands, for the eyes at my right
were moving slowly nearer me, as were those at my left,
and those behind and before me. Gradually they were closing
in upon me, but still that awful, stealthy silence. For
what seemed hours, the eyes approached gradually closer and closer,

(23:39):
until I felt that I should go mad for the
horror of it. I had been constantly turning this way
and that to prevent any sudden rush from behind, until
I was fairly worn out. At length, I could endure
it no longer, and, taking a fresh grasp upon my
long sword, I turned suddenly and charged down upon one
of my tormentors. As I was almost upon it, the
thing retreated before me, but a sound from behind caused

(24:01):
me to wheel in time to see three pairs of
eyes rushing at me from the rear. With a cry
of rage, I turned to meet the cowardly beasts, but
as I advanced, they retreated, as had their fellow. Another
glance over my shoulder discovered the first eye sneaking on
me again and again I charged, only to see the
eyes retreat before me and hear the muffled rush of
the three at my back. Thus we continued, the eyes

(24:23):
always a little closer in the end than they had
been before, until I thought that I should go mad
with the terrible strain of the ordeal. That they were
waiting to spring upon my back seemed evident, and that
it would not be long before they succeeded was equally apparent,
for I could not endure the wear of this repeated
charge and counter charge indefinitely. In fact, I could feel

(24:43):
myself weakening from the mental and physical strain I had
been undergoing. At that moment, I caught another glimpse from
the corner of my eye of the single pair of
eyes at my back making a sudden rush upon me.
I turned to meet the charge. There was a quick
rush of the three from the other direction, But I
determined to pursue the single pair until I should at
least settle my account with one of the beasts, and

(25:05):
thus be relieved of the strain of meeting attacks from
both directions. There was no sound in the corridor, only
that of my own breathing. Yet I knew that those
three uncanny creatures were almost upon me. The eyes in
front were not retreating so rapidly. Now I was almost
within sword reach of them. I raised my sword arm
to deal the blow that should free me, and then
I felt a heavy body upon my back. A cold, moist,

(25:28):
slimy something fastened itself upon my throat. I stumbled and
went down. End of Chapter fourteen.
Advertise With Us

Popular Podcasts

Stuff You Should Know
Dateline NBC

Dateline NBC

Current and classic episodes, featuring compelling true-crime mysteries, powerful documentaries and in-depth investigations. Follow now to get the latest episodes of Dateline NBC completely free, or subscribe to Dateline Premium for ad-free listening and exclusive bonus content: DatelinePremium.com

Cardiac Cowboys

Cardiac Cowboys

The heart was always off-limits to surgeons. Cutting into it spelled instant death for the patient. That is, until a ragtag group of doctors scattered across the Midwest and Texas decided to throw out the rule book. Working in makeshift laboratories and home garages, using medical devices made from scavenged machine parts and beer tubes, these men and women invented the field of open heart surgery. Odds are, someone you know is alive because of them. So why has history left them behind? Presented by Chris Pine, CARDIAC COWBOYS tells the gripping true story behind the birth of heart surgery, and the young, Greatest Generation doctors who made it happen. For years, they competed and feuded, racing to be the first, the best, and the most prolific. Some appeared on the cover of Time Magazine, operated on kings and advised presidents. Others ended up disgraced, penniless, and convicted of felonies. Together, they ignited a revolution in medicine, and changed the world.

Music, radio and podcasts, all free. Listen online or download the iHeart App.

Connect

© 2025 iHeartMedia, Inc.