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palace steps were trying to shove the others back. In a rout they tumbled into their boats and scurried away. Maida's voice, striving to reassure them, was unheard.
And presently the scarred, trampled garden was empty and silent.
The rebellion, checked thus at its start, was quelled. Throughout the city that night--for the slaans to hear whether they would or no--the broadcast stations flung their stentorian tones to the people; a speech by Maida; her promise of better things to come for the slaans; the end of Tarrano's brief rule; a reorganization of past conditions. Maida herself had never been in control in the Central State. The luxury--the license-of the ruling class had been no fault of hers. She promised fair treatment now to the slaans. She was to marry Georg Brende, the Earth man.
Maida did marry Georg. With the many stirring events--a time when disaster and death threatened us all--so soon to follow, I shall not pause to describe the wedding. A quaint, yet magnificent spectacle. Maida in her regal robe; Georg looking every inch a ruler. Their barge of white leading the procession--a barge of white flowers, its sides lined with maidens to fend off the deluge of blossoms with which the onlookers assailed the bridal couple. The arrival at the marriage island, where on an altar the quaintly garbed holy man immersed them; and the solemn men of law united them as one.
It was a night of rejoicing throughout the Great City; and on every mirror in the Empire it was pictured for those who could not be present.
A time of rejoicing. Yet then--as always those days--my heart was heavy. Elza was held by Tarrano. We knew he had taken her to the City of Ice. There was of course, no radio communication with the Cold Country. We had tried eavesdropping upon it, but to no avail. Tarrano's close-flung barrage checked every wave we could send against it.
Time passed--a month or more. We were worried over Elza naturally. Yet the saving grace was that we kne