The Lord of Death and the Queen of Life by Homer Eon Flint (classic novels .txt) 📕

But it was Billie who explained the invariable crop of hair. “No use to look for baldness; they don’t wear hats! Why should they, since there’s neither sun nor rain to protect their heads from?”

Mainly, however, the architect was interested in the building itself. To her, the most striking feature was not the tremendously arched dome, nor yet the remarkable system of bracing which dispensed with any columns in all that vast space. It was something simpler—there were no aisles.

“Now, what do you make of that?” the girl asked Van Emmon. “How do they ever get to their places?” But he could not suggest anything more than to recall an individual elevator scheme once proposed.

To Smith, one object of interest was the telephone system. Remarkably like those used on the Earth, one was located in each of the tiny glass cages. He was likewise puzzled to account for the ventilation system; each cage was apparently air-tight, yet no Venusian showed any discomfort.

But the geologist, for want of anything strictly within his professional range, interested himself in trying to fathom the moral attitude of these people. He was still suspicious of them, notwithstanding a growing tendency to like every one of their pleasant, really agreeable faces. There was neither solemnity, sourness, nor bitterness to be seen anywhere; at the same time, there was no sign of levity. In every countenance was the same inexplicable mixture of wisdom and benevolence that distinguished Estra. Nowhere was there hostility, and nowhere was there crudity. Somehow, the big geologist would have felt more at home had he seen something antagonistic. Essentially, Van Emmon was a fighter.

At last the four felt their attention lagging. Novelties always pall quickly, no matter how striking. Estra sensed the feeling and inquired:

“Which of you will do the honors?”

Instinctively the three younger folk turned to the doctor. He made no protest, but stepped at once to one of the microphones, put on his most impressive professional face, and began:

“My friends”—and Van Emmon noted a pleased look come into every face about them—“my friends, I do not need to state how significant this meeting is to us all. From what Estra has said, I gather that you have informed yourselves regarding us, in some manner which he has promised to make clear. At all events, I am exceedingly anxious to see your astronomical apparatus.”

At this a broad smile came to many of the faces before him; but he went on, unnoticing: “Certainly there is not much I could tell you which you do not already know; Estra’s use of our language proves this. I only need to assure you that we will be glad to answer any questions that may occur to you. It goes without saying that we, of course, are filled with delight to find your planet so wondrously and happily populated, especially after our experience on Mercury, of which, I presume, you are informed.”

Apparently they were. The doctor went on: “You may be sure that we are fairly bursting with questions. However, we are content to become informed as Estra sees fit to guide us.

“There is just one thing, more than any other, which I would like to know at this time. Why is it that, although you all show a great lack of exercise, and are continually eating, you never appear to be healthy?”

Instantly a Venusian in the fifth row, to the doctor’s right, touched his phone and replied: “It is a matter of diet. We have nothing but ‘absolute’ foods; if you understand what that means.”

And from that time on, despite the fact that the explorers asked questions which, at home, would have found hundreds ready and able to answer, on Venus only one person answered any given question, and always without any apparent prearrangement. For a long time they could not account for this.

The doctor motioned for Smith to take his place. The engineer looked a little embarrassed, but cleared his throat noisily and said:

“I am especially struck with the fact that each of you sits in a separate glass pew, or case. Why is this?”

The reply came from one of the few people present who showed any signs of age. He was, perhaps, sixty, and his hair was fast whitening. He said:

“For reasons of sanitation. It is not wise to breathe the breath of another.”

“Also,” supplemented someone from the other side of that vast pit— “also, each is thereby enabled to surround himself with the electrical influences which suit him best.”

Smith stepped back, pondering. The doctor looked to the geologist to take his place, but Van Emmon made way for Billie. At any other time she would have resented his “woman-first” attitude; now she quickly found voice.

“How are you able to get along without aisles? It may seem a foolish question, to you; but on earth we would consider a hall without aisles about as convenient as a room without a door.”

Immediately a Venusian directly in front of her, and on a level with her eyes, called out: “Watch me, madam.” And quite without an effort beyond touching a button or two, the fellow rose straight into the air, glass and all, and then floated gently over toward the middle of the hall.

“It probably appears complicated to you,” explained the Venusian whose side he had just left. “We make use of elements not found on your earth.”

Billie’s sang froid was not shaken. Instantly she came back energetically: “Apparently your method overcomes gravitation. Why haven’t you tried to travel away from your planet?”

And she looked around with the air of one who has uttered a poser, only to have another of the satin-clad people reply, from a point which she was not able to locate:

“Because enough such power cannot be safely concentrated.”

As Billie retired, Van Emmon noted with growing irritation that the continuously affable aspect of the Venusians had not altered in any way, unless it was to become even more genial and sure. The big man strode energetically to the microphone, and the other three noted a general movement of interest and admiration as the people inspected him.

“Why,” demanded he, “do we see no signs of contention? If you are familiar with conditions on the earth, you surely know that rivalry, in one form or another, is the accepted basis of life. But all of you, here, appear to be perfectly happy, and at the same time entirely sure of yourselves.

“We have just come from a planet where we have seen the principle of combat, of competition, carried so far that it seems to have wrecked the race; so you will pardon my curiosity, I am sure. From your faces, one would conclude that you had abolished self-interest altogether. Just why are you so—well, extraordinarily self-complacent?” And he thrust out his aggressive jaw as though to make up for the lack of chins about him.

“Because there is nothing for us to combat, save within ourselves.” This from a wide-faced chap in a bluish-white suit.

“But surely you have rivalry of some sort?”

“No.” Another voice added: “Rivalry is the outgrowth of getting a livelihood; on earth it is inevitable, because men do the work. Here, everything is done by machines.” Still another put in: “Discontent is the mother of ambition, but we are all content, because each possesses all he desires.”

But the geologist was far from satisfied. “Then,” said he vigorously, “if you have eliminated all contention, you have nullified the great law of contrasts. You say you are all rich. How do you know, if you have no poverty to contrast it with?

“On earth, we appreciate warmth because we have experienced cold; pleasure, because we know pain; happiness, because we have always had misery with us. If we have not had the one, we cannot value the other.

“If you have never been discontented, how do you know that you are content?”

For a minute or two it looked as though Van Emmon had raised an unanswerable question. There was no immediate reply. Even Estra looked around, as though in wonder at the silence, and seemed on the point of answering of his own accord when a voice came from a man far up on the left. He said:

“A little explanation may be wise. To begin with, you will agree that black is black because white is white; but it doesn’t follow that blue is blue because green is green, or red is red. Blue is blue because it is neither green nor red nor any other color. It is blue, not because it contrasts with these other colors, but because it merely differs from them.

“Now, we on Venus do not need poverty, in order to appreciate wealth. Instead, each of us is blessed with his own particular choice of wealth. Each is blessed in a different way; some with children, some with intellect, some with other matters; and the question of mere quantity never enters.”

“We do not need pain or misery,” spoke up someone else, “any more than you people on the earth require an additional color, in order to appreciate the variety you already have.” And then, from a Venusian with an especially strong voice:

“That we are really content, we know absolutely. For each of us, in his own distinctive way, is wholly and peculiarly satisfied.”

And it only added to the geologist’s irritation to have these striking statements made in a good-humored, impersonal fashion which totally disarmed all opposition. That the Venusians were perfectly sure of their ground, was undeniable; but they had such a cheerful way of looking at it, as though they didn’t care a rap whether Van Emmon agreed or not, that—If they’d only have shown some spirit! Van Emmon would have liked it infinitely better if one of them had only become hot about it.

At this point Estra rose in his chair. “I think you had best approach us from a fresh viewpoint,” said he in his unfailingly agreeable manner. The doctor nodded vigorously, and again Estra closed his eyes in that odd, hesitating way. Immediately every one in the place, with the exception of a single person in the lowest row, took flight in his or her little glass pew. In a moment the great vault overhead was fairly swarming with people; and in less than a minute the last of them had floated out through one of the arches in the walls.

Estra opened a panel in the central cage, and admitted the Venusian who had stayed behind. She—for it appeared to be a young woman—walked with about the same facility as Estra; but as soon as she had entered the space, took the seat Estra had vacated, and waited.

The action rather disappointed the doctor. He removed the interpreting telephone from his head, and asked:

“I rather thought we were going to meet one of your officials, Estra. We’d hate to go back home without having met your president, or whatever you call your chief executive.”

The two Venusians exchanged smiles, and to the surprise of the explorers the woman gave the reply, in language as good as Estra’s, but an even sweeter expression: “There is no such thing as a chief executive on Venus, friends.”

“I meant,” explained the doctor, rattled, “the chairman of your cabinet, or council, or whatever it is that regulates your affairs. Perhaps,” with an inspiration, “I should have said, the speaker of your congress.”

The Venusian shook her head, still smiling. She hesitated while selecting the best words; and the four noted that, while her features were quite as delicate as Estra’s, her face was proportionately larger, and her whole figure better filled out. No one would have said that she was pretty, much