Tarrano the Conqueror, page 28 by Raymond King Cummings
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press her grief. Now that we had yielded, the Venus men, searching us for our weapons, cast us loose. We bent over Dr. Brende, Georg and I. Dead. No power in this universe could bring him back to us.
Georg pressed his lips tightly together. His face, red from the exertion of his fight, went pale. But he showed no other emotion. And, as he leaned toward me, he whispered:
"Got us, Jac! Say nothing. Don't put up any show of fight."
Elza now was standing against the wall, a hand before her eyes. I went to her.
"Elza, dear----"
Her hand pressed mine.
Our captors stood curiously watching us. There seemed to be at least ten of them--men as tall as myself, though not so tall as Georg. Swarthy, gray-skinned fellows--one or two of them squat, ape-like with their heavy shoulders and dangling arms. Men of the Venus Cold Country. They were talking together in their queer, soft language. One of them I took to be the leader. Argo was his name, I afterward learned. He was somewhat taller than the rest, and slim. A man perhaps thirty. Paler of skin than most of his companions--gray skin with a bronze cast. Dressed like the others in fur. But his heavy jacket was open, disclosing a ruffled white shirt, with a low black stock about his throat.
A shifty-eyed fellow, this Argo. Smooth-shaven, with a mouth slack-lipped, and small black eyes. But his features were finely chiseled; and with that bronze cast to his skin, I guessed that he was from the Venus Central State. He seemed much perturbed that Dr. Brende was dead. Occasionally he burst into English as he rebuked one of the others for the killing.
No more than a moment had passed. Georg joined Elza and me. We stood waiting. Georg whispered: "They killed Robins and his helpers. In there----" He gestured. "I saw them lying in there. If only I had--"
Argo was standing before us. "This is a very pleasant surprise--" He spoke the careful English of the educated foreigner. His tone was ironical. "Very pleasant--"
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