CHAPTER XVII

  _Violet Beam of Death_

  We landed on a stage at the summit of one of the nearer hillsides. Ourcoming--unheralded since we had carried no sending instruments--createda furor. The workers rested to watch us as we disembarked. It was not sodifferent a scene, here on the hill, than might have occurred on Earth.We took a moving platform, down the hill, to the water's edge. A bargewas awaiting us--a broad flat vessel with gaudy trappings. A score ofattendants lined its sides, each with a pole to thrust it through theshallow water. And on its high-raised stern, beneath a canopy was acouch upon which Tarrano reclined, with us of his party at his feet.

  A royal barge, queerly ancient, barbaric--reminding me of the flat,motionless pictures of Earth's early history. Yet it was a symbol hereon Venus, not of barbarism, but of decadence.

  We started off. I may have given a false idea of the size of the GreatCity. Its lake, indeed, was fully fifteen miles or more in diameter.Half a million people lived on or close around that placid stretch ofwater.

  The news of Tarrano's arrival had instantly spread. Graceful boats, allpropelled by hand, thronged our course. From them, and from everyhouse-window, balcony and roof-top, a waving multitude cheered thecoming of the Master. The new Master, to whom so recently they had giventheir allegiance--the Master who in return was to endow them with lifeeverlasting.

  It was a gay, holiday throng--cheering us, tossing flower-petals downupon us as we passed majestically beneath the bridges. Yet among thesegaudily dressed women and men with the luster of wealth and ease uponthem, others mingled. Others of a lower class, poorly dressed, with thebadge of servitude upon them, enthralled in a social peonage which I didnot yet understand.

  "_Slaans_," Wolfgar called them. A term half of derision, half contempt.And Wolfgar pointed one out to me. A huge grey, surly-looking fellowpassing in a one-man shell or boat of tree-fibre. He gazed up at us ashe went by--a furtive glance of cold, sullen fury. Unmistakable. And Isaw it again on others of his kind--men, women, even children who gazedat us with big, round eyes. A dumb, sullen resentment, with asmouldering fury beneath it.

  During the trip, which may have taken an hour, I remarked somethingalso, which did not at the time seem significant but very soon I was torecall it and understand its import. Argo, of course, was still with us.As we embarked upon the barge, a man evidently an official of the GreatCity had paid his humble respects to Tarrano and then withdrawn to afurther part of the vessel, drawing Argo with him. I saw the two inclose conversation. The official evidently was telling Argo something ofimportance. I could see Argo growing indignant and then his eyesgleaming, a leer upon his cruel lips.

  During the trip Tarrano sat calm, half reclining on his couch--satwatching with his keen expressionless eyes the applause of themultitude. It was, I think, and I believe he felt it also, the height ofhis career up to that time--this triumphant entry into the greatest cityof Venus. He did not speak, just sat watching and listening, with a halfsmile of triumph pulling at his mouth. Yet I know too, that those keeneyes of his did not miss the sullen glances of the _slaans_.

  The weather, as always in the Venus Central State, was warm--a luxurioustropic warmth. And now I felt--as I had seen from above--the languorous,sensuous quality of it all. Music, mingled with the ripple of girlishlaughter and cheers, came from the houses as we passed. Soft, fragrantflower-petals deluged us. The very air was laden heavy with exoticperfumes from the flowers which were everywhere.

  We arrived at last at what appeared to be a palace--a broad, lowbuilding of polished stone, on an island of its own. It was the buildingI had noticed when first we saw the Great City from above. Gardens wereabout the building, and on its roof. Flowers lined its many balconies.

  We drew up to a stone landing-place.

  "The palace of the Princess Maida," Wolfgar whispered.

  But I had no time to question him. Attendants appeared. A queer mixture.Incongruous men of science, armed with belts of instruments. Theygreeted Tarrano humbly; escorted him away.

  Other attendants. Natives of the city, in the flowing, bright-coloredrobes we had seen everywhere. A group of them--laughing younggirls--descended upon us.

  "The Princess Maida bids you welcome."

  They hurried us into the building. I was surprised. Tarrano hadseemingly ignored us. It was quite as though we were honored guests,arriving in the Central State when Maida was its ruler.

  Led by the girls, we passed upward into the building past splashingfountains, cascades of perfumed water with tubes of silver lightgleaming in its midst; and were thrust at last into a room.

  The girls withdrew. Across the floor-polished stone, with heavy wovenrugs upon it--Georg and the Princess Maida advanced upon us.

  Our greetings were brief. I could have talked to them both for a day,questioning them; and they, no doubt, had as much to ask of us. But theywere solemn, grave and anxious.

  "Not now, Jac," Georg said to check me. "Elza dear--I have been soworried over you."

  "But----" I demanded.

  "Jac--the situation here--our own cause--the safety of our Earthitself--this Tarrano--"

  But Maida stopped him. "The very air has ears. Not now." Her glanceturned to Wolfgar; her slim hands went out to greet him. "Wolfgar, myfriend. It is good to see you here."

  Wolfgar knelt before her, gazed for one instant into her eyes, and thenwith head bowed, brushed the hem of her robe to his face.

  She laughed gently. "Stand up, Wolfgar. I would not be the PrincessMaida to you now. Only--your friend. Your grateful friend."

  There was a sudden soundless flash. From across the room a beam ofviolet flame darted at us. It struck just between Maida and Wolfgar, ashe rose from his knee. Both of them involuntarily stepped backward,apart from each other. And between them, breast high, the flame hunglevel across the room. Maida was on one side of it; all the rest of us,on the other.

  I turned. At the door, Argo had appeared. From a black object in hishand, the beam was streaming. He rested the black thing on a wall ledgeso that the beam hung level.

  "Stand where you are, all of you." He started toward Maida, behind thebeam from the rest of us.

  Georg made as though to leap forward, but Wolfgar restrained him. "Wait!You don't understand--that's death!"

  I saw now that the violet light had encircled us. Only Maida and Argowere outside it. He was approaching her, with a cylinder in his hand.The ray from it struck her without power of movement or speech. Hereyes, terrified, turned to us. Again Georg would have leaped, butWolfgar shouted, "Wait! That's death! Don't you understand?"

  Argo was leering. "Death? Yes! If you touch that violet light! Death, ofcourse. But you won't touch it! You will stand and watch--stand silentlyfor you know that if you shout, the vibrations will bring the beam uponyou. You won't move--you'll stand and watch me kill your PrincessMaida--not quickly--she is too beautiful for that. You, GeorgBrende--you, Wolfgar, traitor from Mars. You shall see your PrincessMaida die--this would-be traitoress to my Master Tarrano!"

  With all the strength of his puny body Wolfgar flung Georgbackward--safely away from the deadly violet beam. And then, withoutwarning, without a cry which would endanger us, the little Mars mansprang headlong, into and through the violet beam of death.