CHAPTER XXXII
_Departure_
Georg and Maida were very busy in Industriana; and now Elza and I wereadmitted to their activities--Elza and I, with our new-found love andhappiness neglected for the greater thing, the welfare of the nationupon which hinged the very safety of Venus itself; and Mars; and our ownfair Earth.
Industriana, greatest commercial and manufacturing center of Venus, hadbeen given over momentarily to the preparations for war. The _Rhaals_had at last turned from industry to the conquest of Tarrano.Preparations were almost completed; our armies were to start within avery few times of sleep.
I had had no experience in warfare; but the history of our Earth hadtold me much of it. The enlisting and training of huge armies of men;arming them; artillery; naval and air forces; commissary and supplies; agigantic business organization to equip, move and maintain millions offighting men.
Ancient warfare! This--our modern way--was indeed dissimilar. It was,from most aspects, simplicity itself. We had no need of men in greatnumbers. I found something like a single thousand of men being organizedand trained. And equipped with weapons to outward aspects comparativelysimple.
On all the three worlds the age of explosives of the sort historyrecords, was long since passed. Electronic weapons--all basically thesame. And I found now that it was the power for them, developed,transformed into its various characteristics and stored for individualtransportation and use, which was mainly engrossing Industriana.
I had opportunity, that first night, of meeting Geno-Rhaalton--thepresent head of that famous Rhaalton line, for generations hereditaryleaders of their race.
We found him, this Geno-Rhaalton, in a secluded, somber little office ofblack metallic walls, grey hangings and rug, a block of carved stone hisdesk, and a few of the stiff-backed stone chairs, each with its singleprim cushion.
The office was beyond sight and sound of the busy city. His desk wasempty, save for the array of apparatus around its edges--the clickingtabulators which recorded, sorted, analyzed and summarized for him everyminute detail with which the city was engaged.
Machines of business detail. We had them, of course, in the Inter-Alliedoffices of Greater New York. I have seen our Divisional Director voiceinto a mouthpiece the demand for some statistical summary computed up tofive minutes before, and covering his entire Atlantic Division. He wouldhave it, recorded in cold print before him, within a moment.
Yet, compared to the Rhaalton efficiency, our own methods seemedantiquated indeed. This man was in touch with every transpiring detailsimultaneously; yet not confused by them, for every detail was alsocombined into a whole--to be examined for itself if he wished. Visuallyas well, the entire city lay before his gaze--the walls of the officewere lined with rows and tiers of small mirrors; receivers andmouthpieces connected him with everything. Sights, sounds, and evensmells of the various factories were available to him--smells when hissense of smell might be necessary for the testing of some elusive gas.
Without moving his physical body his presence was in effect transportedwherever throughout the city he wished to be. A man of tremendousconcentration, to handle but one thing at a time; with all the power ofhis brain to give instant decision, and then to forget it utterly.
I found him a rather small man; smooth-shaven; grey-haired; a grave faceand demeanor, with dark eyes solemn with thought, yet twinkling oftenwhen he spoke. A man of flabby muscles and gentle voice; seeminglyunforceful, and with a personality likable, but hardly dominating.
Instinctively I found myself comparing him to Tarrano. Tarrano's strong,wiry body. The flash of his eye; his inscrutability, always suggestingmenace; the power, the genius of his personality--the force radiatingfrom him which no one could mistake. His intellectual power--hisconcentration--certainly the equal of this little leader of the_Rhaals_.
Tarrano the Conqueror! Tarrano--man of destiny--risen from nothing andby the sheer genius of his will throwing three worlds into chaos, at onestage combining two worlds into his self-created Empire; and menacingthe third. Surely Tarrano was a greater man than this Rhaalton. I knewit; much as I hated Tarrano I was forced to admit it.
Yet as I stood there acknowledging the soft-spoken greeting of Rhaalton,I had the swift premonition that Tarrano was going down into defeat. Andthat this little man, without moving from his desk or raising his voice,would be the main factor in bringing it about.
And I wondered why such a thing could be. I know why now. Tarrano, withall his genius, lacked just one quality which this little man had inabundance. The milk of human kindness--humanity--a radiating force theessence of which paradoxically was the unforceful gentleness of him. TheAlmighty--as we each of us in our hearts must envisage our God--is just,but gentle, humane in His justness. And with all the genius in theuniverse--the war-like power--the weapons--the cohorts--all thewonderful armament of war--you cannot transgress the Will of theAlmighty. Against all human logic of what should be victory--you willmeet defeat....
The thoughts fled through my mind and vanished into the realities of thepresent. Rhaalton was saying:
"We will be ready within another time of sleep. Jac Hallen, you wish, Isuppose, to go out with our forces?"
"Oh yes," I said.
He smiled. "The eagerness of youth for danger! And yet is verynecessary--very laudable--"
He passed a hand across his forehead with a weary gesture--a gesturewhich seemed to me despondent. Could this be our vaunted leader? Myheart sank.
He added abruptly: "We shall conquer this Tarrano--but at what cost!"His smile was wistful. "We must choose the lesser evil."
Still gently, almost sorrowfully, but with a directness and clarity ofthought which amazed me, he plunged into a detailed account of whatGeorg was to do in command of our forces. My own part in it, alreadyplanned by him in detail. Maida's part. Elza's. The division of _Rhaal_maidens.
Girlhood in war! It seemed very strange. Yet the _Rhaal_ maidens weregoing as a matter of course, since there were some activities for whichthey were more fitted than the men. With all the _Rhaal_ maidens going,Elza and Maida would not stay behind. And though Maida--a wife--wasobjected to by Rhaalton, he had yielded finally to her pleading.
I will not now detail our plans or our armament. We had, in general, onethousand unmarried men, in five divisions of two hundred each. They werelargely _Rhaals_, with the few Earth men previously sent us; fiftyperhaps of the most loyal _slaans_; and a scattering of the other racesof the Venus Central State. A few--thirty perhaps--of the Little Peopleof Mars. In addition, another hundred men, individually in charge of thelarger apparatus and the vehicles. And the division of two hundredgirls.
Our journey to the Cold Country was to be made on flying platforms andvehicles of various sizes; some large to carry fifty passengers or more;others so small that only one person could be carried. These latter, thegirls were to use. I call them platforms. In this size they were not,literally speaking, much more than the transporting mechanism fastenedto the girl's waist.
There were also heavier vehicles carrying the larger apparatus; andseveral of fairly large size with food, clothing, housingequipment--supplies of all kinds for our maintenance abroad. A dozenvehicles also carrying huge skeleton towers, encircled at the top withray projectors. A vehicle with a single room--an instrument room fullyequipped by means of which Geno-Rhaalton at his desk would be in contactwith our every move. And largest vehicle of all--in aspect a solid,squat affair almost of a size for inter-planetary travel--our powerplant.
We started at dawn of the second morning after my own arrival inIndustriana. The girls were to travel to the borders of the Cold Countryon the larger vehicles, but they wished to start flying individually forthe first few helans of the journey for practice. Georg, Maida, Elza andI were to travel in the instrument room.
We massed upon a broad hilltop near the city. In the grey twilight ofdawn with a flush of pink in the sky where the sun in a few momentswould rise, I stood in the outer doorway of the instrument vehicle.A
round me was the confusion of departure. Eager young men; laughinggirls, flushed with excitement. The gayety of youth going to war! Youngas I was myself, I was struck with the drama, the pathos of it. Whatwould the home-coming be?
Georg, Maida and Elza were with me. Geno-Rhaalton stepped up to us.Bare-headed. A solemn little man, heavy-hearted.
"Good-by," he said simply. "I know you will do your best."
"Jac! Look there!"
I followed Elza's startled gesture to the soft, white clouds which weremassed in the sky above us. By what magic of science the thing wasaccomplished, I know not; but up there in the clouds a gigantic image ofTarrano was materializing! His head and shoulders. Arms folded; his facewith a sardonic smile leering down at us! Lips moving. And out of theair about us came his audible, broadcasting words.
_"Do your best, my friends!"_ Ironic mockery! _"Coming to conquerTarrano? Hasten! You are keeping Tarrano waiting most impatiently!"_
The giant voice died away into silence; the huge image melted into theclouds and vanished.
Rhaalton looked at us again, expressionless. "Good-by," he repeated. "Doyour best."
He turned away abruptly. And then as he walked with a despondent droop,I saw his shoulders suddenly straighten. He flung a hand into the air.The signal to start! From a tower in Industriana a puff of violet lightshot up to magnify the signal.
The girls, all in their places, rose into the air. Draperies fluttering,like graceful birds they rose, circled over us in an arc; and then in along, single line, with officers apart to one side marking them insquads of twenty, they sped into the dimness of distance.
The tower vehicles now were rising. Then the larger platform; the powerplant, like a floating building sailing majestically up.
"Come, Jac."
Elza and Maida were inside the instrument room gazing through one of itswindows; and Georg drew me within, closing the transparent door afterus. Through the windows I could see the line of vehicles following afterthe girls. Then our instrument room rose quietly, soundlessly. Theground dropped slowly away, then faster; and as we swung about I saw thehilltop beneath us. Its sides were lined with waving spectators;stricken momentarily with awe at the apparition of Tarrano, they hadalready forgotten it; from every vantage point of Industriana they werefrantically waving.
But the hilltop was empty, save for one lone figure--Geno-Rhaaltonstanding sorrowfully gazing after us.