Chapter XI: Recaptured

In Washington during those next few days, events of the Earth, Venus and Mars swirled and raged around Georg as though he were engulfed in the Iguazu or Niagara. Passive himself at first--a spectator merely; yet he was the keystone of the Earth Council’s strength. The Brende secret was desired by the publics of all three worlds. Even greater than its real value as a medical discovery, it swayed the popular mind.

Tarrano possessed the Brende secret. The only model, and Dr. Brende’s notes were in his hands. Washington had ordered him to give them up, and he had refused. But now the status was changed. Georg held the secret also--and Georg was in Washington. It left the Earth Council free to deal with Tarrano.

During those days Georg was housed in official apartments, with Maida very often near him. Inactive, they were much together, discussing their respective worlds. The Princess Maida was hereditary ruler of the Venus Central State--the only living heir to the throne. When Tarrano’s forces threatened revolution from the Cold Country she had been seized by spies, brought to Earth, to Tarrano in Venia, and imprisoned in the tower from which Georg had so lately rescued her. Wolfgar for years had been her friend and loyal retainer, though he had pretended service to Tarrano.

In the Central State, Maida, too young to rule, had been represented by a Council. The public loved her--but a majority of it had gone astray when she disappeared--lured by Tarrano’s glowing promises.

Maida told Georg all this with a sweet, gentle sadness that was pathetic. And with an earnest, patriotic fervor--the love of her country and her people for whom she would give her life.

She added: “If only I could get back there, Georg--I could make them realize the right course. I could win them again. Tarrano will play them false--you know it, and so do I.”

Pathetic earnestness in this girl still no more than seventeen! And Georg, sitting beside her, gazing into her solemn, beautiful face, felt that indeed she could win them, with those limpid blue eyes and her words which rang with sincerity and truth.

They sat generally in an unofficial instrument room adjoining the government offices. A room high in a spire above the upper levels of the city. And around them rolled the momentous events of which they were the center.

The time limit of the Earth Council’s ultimatum to Tarrano expired. Already Tarrano had answered it with defiance. But on the stroke of its expiration, came another note from him. Georg read it from the tape to Maida:

“To the Earth Council from Tarrano, its loyal subject----”

A grimly ironical note, yet so worded that the ignorant masses would not see its irony. It stated that Tarrano could not comply with the demand that he deliver himself and the Brende model to Washington because he did not have the model. It was on its way to Venus. He now proposed to recall it. He had already recalled it, in fact. He assured the Council that it was now on its way back, direct to Washington. He had done this because he felt that the Earth leaders were making a mistake--a grave mistake in the interests of their own people. Georg Brende was in Washington--that was true. But Georg Brende was a silly, conceited young man, flattered by his prominence in the public eye, his head turned by his own importance. Dr. Brende had been a genius. The son was a mere upstart, 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 Earth Council, 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 he wants.”

The note went on. Tarrano--seeking only the welfare of the people--could not stand by and see the Earth Council wreck its public. Tarrano had reconsidered his former note. The Brende model was vital, and since the Earth Council demanded the model (for the benefit of its people) the people should have it. In a few days it would be in Washington. Tarrano himself would not come to Washington. His doing that could not help the public welfare, and he was but human. The Earth Council had made itself his enemy; he could not be expected to trust his life in enemy hands.

The note closed with the suggestion that the Council withdraw its patrol from Venia. This talk of war was childish. Withdraw the patrol, and Tarrano himself might go back to Venus. He would wait a day for answer to this request; and if it were not granted--if the patrol were not entirely removed--then the Brende model would be destroyed. And if the publics of three worlds wished to depend upon a conceited, ignorant young man like Georg Brende for the everlasting life, they were welcome to do so.

A clever piece of trickery, and it was awkward to deal with. One had only to watch its effect upon the public to realize how insidious it was. Tarrano had told us--in the tower in Venia: “I shall have to bargain with them.” And chuckled as he said it.

A series of notes from the Earth Council and back again, followed during the next few days. But the patrol was not withdrawn; nor was war declared. The Earth Council knew that Tarrano had not ordered the model back--nor would he destroy it. Yet if the Earth forces were to overwhelm Tarrano, and the model were lost, a revolution upon Earth could easily take place before Georg could convince the people that he was able to build them another model.

This delay--while Tarrano was held virtually a prisoner in Venia--was decided upon at the instigation of Georg himself. He--Georg--would address the publics of the three worlds. With Maida beside him to influence her own public in Venus, they would convince everyone that Georg had the secret--and that he alone would use it for the public good.