The Lord of Death and the Queen of Life - Homer Eon Flint (online e book reading txt) 📗

they have destroyed the elevator, and—”

A wave of clamor burst from below. “They’ve broken the barrier,” remarked Estra calmly; he turned to the door, then whirled at a crash which sounded from above. “Through the roof,” he added. He did not even glance at the balcony, where the two cars barred the way against any attack from that direction.

Next second he again quit the room. Myrin hesitated a moment, irresolute, and then followed him thoughtfully. They never saw her again. As for Estra, he came back in a moment carrying a small, white bundle, which stirred in his arms. He unhesitatingly handed the child to Billie. His mouth moved soundlessly as a muffled shriek arose from the other end of the corridor; there was a thud, a metallic crash, and a great roar of voices. The mob had broken in, and up, through the back of the house. The first of the attackers thrust his head and shoulders into sight not ten feet away.

Estra touched something with his foot, and a door shot across the corridor. There was an instant’s silence; then, the thunder of the mob, hurling itself against the door. The people were fairly snarling now. Estra closed the inner door.

“Estra!” shrilly, from Billie. She laid the baby down, and strode to the Venusian. “Let’s get out of here! The car’s on the balcony; nobody’s in the way to interfere! Why not—”

A grinding, ripping jar from above, and Estra shook his head. The smile was gone, and his mouth was set and grim. “They’d catch us before we went a mile,” he said, glancing at the infant, who had begun to cry, in a stifled, gasping way that tore at the nerves.

“Estra!” Billie pleaded; but he turned away. The doctor strode up to him and gripped his shoulder.

“What’s the good, Estra? What can you accomplish even if you—”

The Venusian tapped his forehead. “I can TELL!” he exclaimed, with a return of that exalted flush. “Just give me a chance to offer my sister’s discovery to the world, and I shall be satisfied!” He touched the package of leaflets. “These are not written as clearly as they should be; but if I cannot hold them back, then these”—fingering the papers—“these go to the friends down below!” He moved closer to the window, but his eyes were on the door.

A rending crash told that the corridor was now open to the mob. There was a rush, and then the storm of the people battering the last door.

“Van! Doc! Billie!” Smith had the window open, and was stepping into one of the cars. Kinney and the geologist were at his side in an instant. The girl held back.

“Estra!” she begged. She picked up the baby, and with her free hand tugged at the Venusian’s arm. “Come on! Don’t sacrifice yourself!”

The door bulged under the attack. The noise was ear-splitting. Nevertheless Estra heard, and shook his head without looking at the woman from the Earth. She dashed to the window, then came back. “Hurry! There’s a chance!” He stood unmoved, watchful and ready. “Estra! I want you to come!” Her face flamed. “Can’t you see? Can’t you see that I—I want you?” She gasped as the door shrieked under the strain. “Come—if you’re a man!”

The Venusian’s face changed. He turned, and stared at the girl with eyes that held nothing but blank amazement. The grimness left his mouth, his lips partly opened. He took a step forward and threw an arm about her shoulders.

“Billie—I’m sorry! I never thought!” A crack showed at the edge of the door, and a roar smote their ears. Estra backed to the window. “Go!” he shouted. “Go quickly, while you can!”

Billie stood stock still, gazing at him. “I’m going to stay!” she screamed. “I’ll take my chances with—”

He thrust her through the window. “You don’t understand!” he shouted, and took the baby away from her, despite all her strength. Then a wonderfully tender light came into his eyes. He gripped Billie’s hands, and spoke sorrowfully:

“Billie—I’m not what you thought! I’m not a man—I’m a woman!”

XV

BACK!

 

By the time Smith had driven the strange craft fifty yards, he had it under control. Billie glanced back; Estra was out on the balcony, now, and the mob was surging against the windows she had locked against them. She shifted the baby to the hollow of one arm while with the other she broke the cord of the packet.

At the sight, the crowd in the street gave voice. “Let us have it!” they were crying; they drowned out the uproar within the house. Estra did not even look at the other car.

Then the windows gave way. Like the breaking of a dam, a flood of Venusians poured and tumbled at Estra’s feet. She raised her hand, and shouted something Billie could not hear; then, scarcely without pause, the crowd bore down upon her.

And even as she was crushed against the railing, with one hand she dropped the baby to eager, upstretched arms below; and with the other she tossed the package high in the air. There it broke apart, the air caught it, and the thousands of leaflets fluttered down upon that street full of sympathizers.

Leaflets, each of which described a discovery which was to give to women the power of abolishing the opposite sex, of making Venus a world not only one in country, one in industry and one in thought, but—one in sex!

The thunderous meaning of Estra’s last action almost made Billie forget that it was, in truth, the woman’s last act. For next moment her lifeless form was being crushed beneath the feet of that supremely cultured, marvelously civilized mob; for it was only a mob, despite its astounding advancement; a mob which had retained all the brute’s fanaticism, and all the male jealousy of the female.

For they were all men.

 

The four had been on Venus almost twenty-four hours when Smith, knowing the condition of the machinery in the cube, warned the others that they must return. Secretly, he was tired of the Venusians’ continual smiling; for they had fairly outdone each other to show the visitors all that could be shown. But it was Van Emmon who thought to ask for Estra’s wonderful library.

“These chemicals and metals you are giving us,” he said, making a regular speech of it, “are extremely welcome; they will enable us to perform experiments otherwise out of our reach.

“But Estra’s books will mean still more to the people of the earth. If there is no one else with more need for them, who is going to put in a claim, then why not let us have them?”

Apparently the Venusians did not like the idea very well. “They must have thought it was like letting a monkey play with a rifle,” the doctor afterward put it. But, for lack of a leader with any motive for objecting, and because Estra had no living relatives to claim the library, somehow that incredible collection of intellectual gems got into the possession of the four. Nothing was said about it during the quiet leave-taking, and when the cube finally rose away from the roof, Van Emmon’s face beamed with happiness and a great sigh of satisfaction escaped him.

“Well”—looking at the books—“they kind of make up for the fact that the folks didn’t ask us to call again!”

And he turned and went straight to the kitchenette, where he proceeded with great speed and efficiency to set out the following:

Canned Soup. Canned baked beans. Fried bacon and egg. Coffee. Peaches.

“Come and get it!” he shouted. The doctor tore himself away from the books; Smith crawled out from the beloved machines; Billie came out shortly from her cubby-hole, and slipped into her seat in a highly excited manner. There was a brightness in her cheeks, and a noticeable change in her usually assured manner. This timidity, so utterly new to the girl, seemed most pronounced whenever Van Emmon chanced to look at her; which was quite often.

All four were ravenous. They had been away from the cube a day and a night, and “all we had to eat was something to drink,” as Smith complained. Nothing whatever was said except “Please pass that” and “Thanks,” for fully fifteen minutes.

At last they were satisfied. The doctor went back to the books; Smith returned to his oil-can and wrench. But Billie stood by the table, and began helping Van Emmon to clear up. In a moment they were face to face.

“Van,” she said softly, and looked up at him wistfully. “Van—do you like me better this way?” Her eyes were almost piteous.

Into the man’s face there came a look of amazement followed by one of admiration, and another of genuine delight He gave a little laugh, and unconsciously threw out his hands.

“Much better, Billie.” Neither of them cared a particle whether Smith or the doctor saw that Billie, very simply and naturally, walked right into Van Emmon’s arms. “Much better. Besides, you’re really too graceful to wear anything else.”

 

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