Tarrano the Conqueror
Chapter VIII: Unknown Friend

Public Domain

“Sit down.” Tarrano motioned us to feather hassocks and stretched himself indolently upon our pillowed divan. With an elbow and hand supporting his head he regarded us with his sombre black eyes, his face impassive, an inscrutable smile playing about his thin lips.

“I wish to speak with you three. The Lady Elza----” His glance went to her briefly, then to Georg. “She has told you, perhaps, what I had to say to her?”

“Yes,” said Georg shortly.

Elza had indeed told us. And with sinking heart I had listened, for it did not seem to me that any maiden could resist so dominant a man as this. But I had made no comment, nor had Georg. Elza had seemed unwilling to discuss it, had flushed when her brother’s eyes had keenly searched her face.

And she flushed now, but Tarrano dismissed the subject with a gesture. “That--is between her and me ... You have been following the general news, I assume? I provided you with it.” He rolled a little cylinder of the arrant-leaf, and lighted it.

“Yes,” said Georg.

Georg was waiting for our captor to lay his cards before us. Tarrano knew it; his smile broadened. “I shall not mince words, Georg Brende. Between men, that is not necessary. And we are isolated here--no one beyond Venia can listen. As you know, I am already Master of Venus. In Mars--that will shortly come. They will hand themselves over to me--or I shall conquer them.” He shrugged. “It is quite immaterial.” He added contemptuously: “People are fools--almost everyone--it is no great feat to dominate them.”

“You’ll find our Earth leaders are not fools,” Georg said quietly.

Tarrano’s heavy brows went up. “So?” He chuckled. “That remains to be seen. Well, you heard the ultimatum they sent me? What do you think of it?”

“I think you’d best obey it,” I burst out impulsively.

“I was not speaking to you.” He did not change the level intonation of his voice, nor even look my way. “You are to die tomorrow, Jac Hallen----”

Elza gave a low cry; instantly his gaze swung to her. “So? That strikes at you, Lady Elza?”

She flushed even deeper than before, and the flush, with her instinctive look to me that accompanied it, made my heart leap. Tarrano’s face had darkened. “You would not have me put him to death, Lady Elza?”

She was struggling to guard from him her emotions; struggling to match her woman’s wit against him.

“I--why no,” she stammered.

“No? Because he is--your friend?”

“Yes. I--I would not let you do that.”

“Not let me?” Incredulous amusement swept over his face.

“No. I would not--let you do that.” Her gaze now held level with his. A strength came to her voice. Georg and I watched her--and watched Tarrano--fascinated. She repeated once more: “No. I would not let you.”

“How could you stop me?”

“I would--tell you not to do it.”

“So?” Admiration leaped into his eyes to mingle with the amusement there. “You would tell me not to do it?”

“Yes.” She did not flinch before him.

“And you think then--I would spare him?”

“Yes. I know you would.”

“And why?”

“Because--if you did a thing like that--I should--hate you.”

“Hate----”

“Yes. Hate you--always.”

He turned suddenly away from her, sitting up with a snap of alertness. “Enough of this.” Did he realize he was defeated in this passage with a girl? Was he trying to cover from us the knowledge of his defeat? And then again the bigness of him made itself manifest. He acknowledged soberly:

“You have bested me, Lady Elza. And you’ve made me realize that I--Tarrano--have almost lowered myself to admit this Jac Hallen my rival.” He laughed harshly. “Not so! A rival? Pah! He shall live if you wish it--live close by you and me--as an insect might live on a twig by the rim of the eagle’s nest ... Enough! ... I was asking you, Georg Brende, of this ultimatum. Should I yield to it?” He had suppressed his other emotions; he was amusing himself with us again.

“Yes,” said Georg.

“But I have already refused--today in the garden. Would you have me change? I am not one lightly to change a decision already reached.”

“You’ll have to.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Of one thing I am sure. I cannot let them declare war against me just now. I have no defense, here in Venia. Scarce the armament for my handful of men. Your vessels of war would sweep down here and overpower me in a breath--trap me here helpless----”

“Of course,” said Georg.

“And so I must not let them do that. They want me to come to Washington with the Brende model--deliver it over to them. Yet--that does not appeal to me. Tomorrow I shall have to bargain with them further. I could not deliver to them the Brende model.” He was chuckling at his own phrasing. “No--no, I could not do that.”

“Why?” demanded Georg. “Isn’t the model here?”

“It is--where it is,” said Tarrano. He became more serious. “You, Georg--you could build one of those models?”

Georg did not answer.

“You could, of course,” Tarrano insisted. “My spy, Ahla--you remember her, the Lady Elza’s maid for so long? She is here in Venia; she tells me of your knowledge and skill with your father’s apparatus. So you see, I realize I have two to guard--the model itself, and you, who know its secret.”

He now became more openly alert and earnest than I had ever seen him. The light from the tube along the side wall edged his lean, serious face with its silver glow. “I’ve a proposition for you, Georg Brende. Between men, such things can be put bruskly. Your sister--her personal decision will take time. I would not force it. But meanwhile--I do not like to hold you and her as captives.”

The shadow of a smile crossed Georg’s face. “We shall be glad to have you set us free.”

Tarrano remained grave. “You are a humorist. And a clever young fellow, Georg Brende. You--as Elza’s brother--and as your father’s son with your medical knowledge--you can be of great use to me. Suppose I offer you a place by my side always? To share with me--and with the Lady Elza--these conquests ... Wait! It is not the part of wisdom to decide until you have all the facts. I shall confide in you one of my plans. The publics of Venus, Mars and the Earth--they think this everlasting life, as they call it, is to be shared with them.”

His chuckle was the rasp of a file on a block of adamant. “Shared with them! That is the bait I dangle before their noses. In reality, I shall share it only with the Lady Elza. And with you--her brother, and the mate you some day will take for yourself. Indeed, I have a maiden already at hand, picked out for you ... But that can come later ... Everlasting life? Nonsense! Your father’s discovery cannot confer that. But we shall live two centuries or more. Four of us. To see the generations come and go--frail mortals, while we live on to conquer and to rule the worlds ... Come, what do you say?”

“I say no.”

Tarrano showed no emotion, save perhaps a flicker of admiration. “You are decisive. You have many good qualities, Georg Brende. I wonder if you have any good reasons?”

“Because you are an enemy of my world,” Georg declared, with more heat than he had yet displayed.

“Ah! Patriotism! A good lure for the ignorant masses, that thing they call patriotism. For rulers, a good mask with which to hide their unscrupulous schemes. That’s all it is, Georg Brende. Cannot you give me a better reason? You think perhaps I am not sincere? You think I would not share longevity with you--that I would play you false?”

“No,” Georg declared. “But my father’s work was for the people. I’m not talking patriotism--only humanitarianism. The strife, suffering in our worlds--you would avoid it yourself--and gloat while others bore it. You----”

“Youth!” Tarrano interrupted. “Altruism! It is very pretty in theory--but quite nonsensical. Man lifts himself--the individual must look out for himself--not for others. Each man to his destiny--and the weak go down and the strong go up. It is the way of all life--animal and human. It always has been--and it always will be. The way of the universe. You are very young, Georg Brende.”

“Perhaps,” Georg said, and fell silent.

Tarrano abruptly rose to his feet. “Calm thought is better than argument. You have imagination--you can picture what I offer. Think it over. And if youth is your trouble----” His eyes were twinkling. “I shall have to wait until you grow up. We have a long road to travel--empires cannot be built in a day.”

He paused before Elza with a grave, dignified bow. “Goodnight, Lady Elza.”

“Goodnight,” she said.

He left us. We stood listening to his footsteps as he quietly descended the tower incline. At his summons, the barrage was lifted. He went out. From the balcony we saw him cross the spider bridge, with Argo at his heels. As they vanished into the yawning mouth of an arcade beyond the bridge, again came that rose-glow in the other tower. We saw again the girl with flowing white hair standing there. And now she was waving us back.

 
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