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Tarrano the Conqueror

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<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> <h3>Playground of Venus</h3> After a trip uneventful—save that to me, taking it for the first time, it was an experience never to be forgotten in a lifetime—we landed at the Great City of Venus. We had sent no messages during the trip, and with our grey-blue color, I think we escaped telescopic and even radio observation by the Earth. Into our vessel's small instrument room, where Tarrano spent most of his time, reports of the news occasionally drifted in. But his connection—small and inadequate—was often broken. Nor did Tarrano this time seem interested in having Wolfgar, Elza and me learn the news. Yet it was not unfavorable to him. I gathered that the Earth formally had accepted his declaration of war. Relations with Venus—and with Mars also, had been discontinued. The mails no longer left. The helios were stopped. But, so far as I could learn, the Earth was undertaking no offensive action. For the present, certainly. Soon we were beyond reach of all messages save helios, which were not in operation. And in another day news began reaching us from Venus. But from this Tarrano barred us. I saw Venus, as we dropped upon it, first as a tremendous lovely crescent of silver beneath us. A crescent first, and, as hours passed, the darkened area took shape. A ball hanging there in space. Growing almost momentarily larger. Soon we could distinguish cloud areas. Then the land—the water. A ball filling half our lower segment of sky. Then all of it. We reached the Venus atmosphere, passed through cloud masses, and out again into the brilliant sunshine. Below us, glowing with the glory of mid-day, lay the Venus Central State. Rolling hills with distant mountain peaks, the highest of them far-away, glittering white with the sunlight on their snow-caps. A land of warmth and beauty. Dazzling green, with a luxuriant vegetation, tropical yet strange. As we dropped lower, I sat alone, gazing downward. We were passing over the land now, at an altitude of no more than twenty thousand feet. A vivid land. Vivid sunlight; inky shadows; a green to everything—a solid, brilliant green. Amid it, spots of other colors; splashes of yellow; patches of scarlet as though some huge field were massed with scarlet blossoms. And trailing silver threads—rivers and streams. Or again glittering silver lakes nestling in the hills. A fairyland of beauty. Yet as I gazed, it seemed not the fairyland of a child. Not childish, but mature; for I could not miss in its aspect, a warmth, a quality of sensuousness. A land of dalliance and pleasure of the senses. And I realized then why the Venus people derived all their advancement of science and industry from Earthly and Martian sources. A hand of luxury and physical ease. People, not primitive—but decadent. I became aware of Wolfgar at my elbow. "It is very beautiful, eh, Jac Hallen?" "Beautiful—yes. You've been here before, Wolfgar?" He nodded. "Oh yes. Soon we will reach the Great City. That too is strange and beautiful." Elza saw us together and joined us. The Great City presently came into distant view. Wolfgar, with that gentle voice and smile characteristic of him began to describe to us what we should see. Abruptly Elza said: "I have never really thanked you, Wolfgar. You saved my life—there when Tara attacked me." He gestured. "Your thanks are more than such a service deserves." As though the subject had suggested Georg and Maida to him, he added, "I am wondering where Georg Brende and the Princess Maida may be." I fancied then that I saw a quality of wistfulness in his eyes. A gentle little fellow, this Mars man. Queer and brooding, with strange thoughts not to be fathomed. He added as though to himself: "I have often wondered—" Then stopped. Elza and I had discussed it. We felt sure that Georg and Maida had been taken to Venus. They could have had only a few hours' start of ourselves. Yet this vessel we were in was unusually slow. We felt convinced that they had already arrived on Venus—had been there perhaps already for a day. We discussed it now with Wolfgar as the Great City came under us; but soon we fell silent, gazing down into this beautiful capital of the Central State. It lay in a broad hollow, a large, irregular circular bowl surrounded by gently sloping hillsides. The bowl was entirely filled by water—a broad flat lake of silver which from this height showed us its pearly bottom. On the water—seen from above—the houses seemed floating—clusters of lily pads on a placid shining pool. They were, in reality, flat cubical buildings solidly built of rectangular blocks of stone, standing just above the water level on solid stone foundations. Always green and white—stones like blocks of smooth, polished marble, set in green and white patterns. Balconies and cornices of what might have been gleaming, beaten copper. Flat roofs, edged with scarlet flowers. Some of the buildings were low and small. Others of several stories, pretentious and ornate. One very large, like a palace, standing alone on its verdant island. The houses were mostly gathered in clusters of various shapes and sizes. Yet a semblance of order prevailed. Winding streets of open water lay between the groups. There were trellised walks and arching spider bridges, sometimes over the streets, sometimes joining one house to another. Here and there I saw lagoons of open water, dotted with small green islands like parks—islands on which the vegetation grew far higher and more luxuriant than any even in the tropics of our Earth. Vegetation always under careful training and control. Profuse with flowers, vivid and gigantic. The houses too, were roofed with gardens—sometimes with pergolas and trellises of the aerial scarlet blossoms. Occasionally—these latter details I observed as we descended close upon the city—I saw houses with a tiny swimming pool on the roof—a private pool hidden in masses of colored flowers. A playground—the playground of Venus. It seemed very backward—uncivilized. And then Wolfgar pointed out the surrounding hillsides. On them, cleared of their vegetation, our modern civilization stood gaunt and efficient. Towers, aerials, landing stages, aerial trams, factories, tall stacks over the dynamo houses belching thick black smoke, which artificial wind-generators carefully blew away from the city. In the midst of their hillside ring of necessary modernity, the people of the Great City had kept their playground inviolate. Work, science, industry—all necessary. But the real business of life was pleasure. Art, music, beauty.... And I am not far from thinking that unless abused, their formula is better than ours. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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