CHAPTER XI
_Recaptured_
In Washington during those next few days, events of the Earth, Venus andMars swirled and raged around Georg as though he were engulfed in theIguazu or Niagara. Passive himself at first--a spectator merely; yet hewas the keystone of the Earth Council's strength. The Brende secret wasdesired by the publics of all three worlds. Even greater than its realvalue as a medical discovery, it swayed the popular mind.
Tarrano possessed the Brende secret. The only model, and Dr. Brende'snotes were in his hands. Washington had ordered him to give them up, andhe had refused. But now the status was changed. Georg held the secretalso--and Georg was in Washington. It left the Earth Council free todeal with Tarrano.
During those days Georg was housed in official apartments, with Maidavery often near him. Inactive, they were much together, discussing theirrespective worlds. The Princess Maida was hereditary ruler of the VenusCentral State--the only living heir to the throne. When Tarrano's forcesthreatened revolution from the Cold Country she had been seized byspies, brought to Earth, to Tarrano in Venia, and imprisoned in thetower from which Georg had so lately rescued her. Wolfgar for years hadbeen her friend and loyal retainer, though he had pretended service toTarrano.
In the Central State, Maida, too young to rule, had been represented bya Council. The public loved her--but a majority of it had gone astraywhen she disappeared--lured by Tarrano's glowing promises.
Maida told Georg all this with a sweet, gentle sadness that waspathetic. And with an earnest, patriotic fervor--the love of her countryand her people for whom she would give her life.
She added: "If only I could get back there, Georg--I could make themrealize the right course. I could win them again. Tarrano will play themfalse--_you_ know it, and so do I."
Pathetic earnestness in this girl still no more than seventeen! AndGeorg, sitting beside her, gazing into her solemn, beautiful face, feltthat indeed she could win them, with those limpid blue eyes and herwords which rang with sincerity and truth.
They sat generally in an unofficial instrument room adjoining thegovernment offices. A room high in a spire above the upper levels of thecity. And around them rolled the momentous events of which they were thecenter.
The time limit of the Earth Council's ultimatum to Tarrano expired.Already Tarrano had answered it with defiance. But on the stroke of itsexpiration, came another note from him. Georg read it from the tape toMaida:
_"To the Earth Council from Tarrano, its loyal subject----"_
A grimly ironical note, yet so worded that the ignorant masses would notsee its irony. It stated that Tarrano could not comply with the demandthat he deliver himself and the Brende model to Washington because hedid not have the model. It was on its way to Venus. He now proposed torecall it. He had already recalled it, in fact. He assured the Councilthat it was now on its way back, direct to Washington. He had done thisbecause he felt that the Earth leaders were making a mistake--a gravemistake in the interests of their own people. Georg Brende was inWashington--that was true. But Georg Brende was a silly, conceited youngman, flattered by his prominence in the public eye, his head turned byhis own importance. Dr. Brende had been a genius. The son was a mereupstart, pretending to a scientific knowledge he did not have.
"Trickery!" exclaimed Georg. "But he knows the people may believe it.Some of them undoubtedly will."
"And you cannot thwart your public," Maida said. "Even your EarthCouncil, secure in its power, cannot do that."
"Exactly," Georg rejoined. He was indignant, as well he might have been."Tarrano is trying to avoid being attacked. Time--any delay--is what hewants."
The note went on. Tarrano--seeking only the welfare of the people--couldnot stand by and see the Earth Council wreck its public. Tarrano hadreconsidered his former note. The Brende model was vital, and since theEarth Council demanded the model (for the benefit of its people) thepeople should have it. In a few days it would be in Washington. Tarranohimself would not come to Washington. His doing that could not help thepublic welfare, and he was but human. The Earth Council had made itselfhis enemy; he could not be expected to trust his life in enemy hands.
The note closed with the suggestion that the Council withdraw its patrolfrom Venia. This talk of war was childish. Withdraw the patrol, andTarrano himself might go back to Venus. He would wait a day for answerto this request; and if it were not granted--if the patrol were notentirely removed--then the Brende model would be destroyed. And if thepublics of three worlds wished to depend upon a conceited, ignorantyoung man like Georg Brende for the everlasting life, they were welcometo do so.
A clever piece of trickery, and it was awkward to deal with. One hadonly to watch its effect upon the public to realize how insidious itwas. Tarrano had told us--in the tower in Venia: "I shall have tobargain with them." And chuckled as he said it.
A series of notes from the Earth Council and back again, followed duringthe next few days. But the patrol was not withdrawn; nor was wardeclared. The Earth Council knew that Tarrano had not ordered the modelback--nor would he destroy it. Yet if the Earth forces were to overwhelmTarrano, and the model were lost, a revolution upon Earth could easilytake place before Georg could convince the people that he was able tobuild them another model.
This delay--while Tarrano was held virtually a prisoner in Venia--wasdecided upon at the instigation of Georg himself. He--Georg--wouldaddress the publics of the three worlds. With Maida beside him toinfluence her own public in Venus, they would convince everyone thatGeorg had the secret--and that he alone would use it for the publicgood.
Youthful plans! Youthful enthusiasm! The belief that they could winconfidence to their cause by the very truthfulness in their hearts! Thebelief that right makes might--which Tarrano would have told them wasuntrue!
Yet it was a good plan, and the Earth Council approved it, since itcould do no harm to try. And it perhaps would have been successful butfor one thing, of which even at that moment I--in Venia--was aware.Tarrano's trickery was not all on the surface. He had written into thatnote--by a code of diabolically ingenious wording--a secret message tohis own spies in Washington. Commands for them to obey. A dozen of hisspies were in the Earth government's most trusted, highest service--andsome of them were there in Washington, close around Georg and Maida asthey made their altruistic plan.
The attempt was to be made from the high-power sending station in themountains of West North America.[13] Our observatory was there; and theonly one of its kind on the Earth. It was equipped to send a radio voiceaudibly to every part of the Earth; and by helio, also to Mars andVenus, there to be re-transformed from light to sound and heardthroughout those other worlds. And moving images of the speakers, seenon the finders all over the Earth, Venus and Mars simultaneously. Thepower, the generating equipment was at this station; and no matter wherein the sky Venus or Mars might be, from the Mountain Station thevibrations of mingled light and sound were relayed elsewhere on Earth toother stations from which the helios could be flashed direct.
[Footnote 13: The Rocky Mountains, in the United States or possiblyAlberta.]
To Skylan, as the Mountain Station was popularly called, Georg and Maidawere taken in official aero under heavy convoy. Yet, even then, at theirvery elbows, spies of Tarrano must have been lurking.
The official flyer landed them on the broad stage amid deep, soft snow.It was night--a brief trip from the late afternoon, through dinner andthey were there. A night of clear shining stars--brilliant gems in deeppurple. Clear, crisp, rarefied air; a tumbling expanse of white, withthe stars stretched over it like a close-hung canopy.
They were ushered into the low, rambling building. The attempt was to bemade at once. Mars was mounting the eastern sky; and to the west, Venuswas setting. Both visible from direct helios at that moment--Red Mars,from this mountain top, glowing like the tip of an arrant-cylinder upthere.
In the brief time since the party had left Washington, the worlds hadbeen notified. The eyes and ears of the mill
ions of three planets werewaiting to see and hear this Georg Brende and this Princess Maida.
The sending room was small, circular, and crowded with apparatus. Andabove its dome, opened to the sky, wherein the intensified helios shadedso that no ray of them might blind the operators, were sputtering asthough eager to be away with their messages.
With a dozen officials around him, Georg prepared to enter the sendingroom. He had parted from Maida a few moments before, when she had lefthim to be shown to her apartment by the women attendants.
As she moved away, on impulse he had stopped her. "We shall succeed,Maida."
Her hand touched his arm. A brave smile, a nod, and she had passed on,leaving him standing there gazing after her with pounding heart.Pounding, not with excitement at the task before him in that sendingroom; pounding with the sudden knowledge that the welfare of this fraillittle woman meant more to him than the safety of all these worlds.
At last Georg stood in the sending room. The officials sat groupedaround him. Maida had not yet arrived from her apartment. There was asmall platform, upon which she and Georg were to stand together. He tookhis place upon it, waiting for her.
Before him was the sending disc; it glowed red as they turned thecurrent into it. Then they illumined the mirrors; a circle of them, eachwith its image of Georg upon the platform. The white lights above himflashed on, beating down upon him with their hot, dazzling glare. Thereflected beams from the mirrors, struck upward into the dome overhead.The helios up there were humming and sputtering loudly.
Beyond the circle of intense white light in which Georg was standing,the spectators sat in gloom behind the mirrors. Maida had not come. TheSkylan Director, impatient ordered a woman to go for her.
Then, suddenly, Georg said to this Director:
"I--these lights--this heat. It makes me feel faint--standing here."
Georg had stumbled from the platform. Between two of the mirrors, shadedfrom the glare, the perturbed Director met him. Moisture beaded Georg'sforehead.
"I'll--be quite all right in a moment. I'm going over there." He smiledweakly. A dozen feet away there was an opened outer casement. It lookeddown twenty feet, perhaps, to the deep snow that covered the station'sgrounds. The Director started with Georg; but Georg pushed him violentlyaway.
"No! No! You let me alone!" His accents were those of a spoiled child.The Director hesitated, and Georg, with a hand to his forehead, waveredtoward the casement. The Director saw him standing there; saw him sway,then fall or jump forward, and disappear.
They rushed outside. The snow was trampled all about with heavyfootprints, but Georg had vanished. From the women's apartment, theattendant came back. The Princess Maida could not be found!
And in those moments of confusion, from outside across the starlit snow,an aero was rising. Silent, black--and no one saw it as it winged awayinto the night.