The Romance of Atlantis Read Online Free PDF Page B

were supervised, and no more than a thousand decenari could be spent on any campaign—an inconsiderable amount. At one time there had been a movement to give women the right to vote. Salustra had vetoed the proposal. “They would vote in the beginning as do their fathers, their husbands and their sons,” she said. “Therefore, there would be only a multiplication of the proportionate masculine vote. After a while, they would be governed by appearances and vote for only the handsomest and most personable men. They would all be actors or models.”
    She never thought of herself as a woman, and was considered colder, more ruthless and more indomitable than even her father. Occasionally, Lazar had been moved to pity and generosity. But not Salustra. A matter was right or wrong; either it was an infringement of the national law or it was not. Some declared her cruel; others defended her as hard but fair. And fairness without mercy can be a terrible thing. Just as she met with the provinces four times a year, she conferred for diplomatic reasons with the ambassadors of the small southern kingdoms and Althrustri. Althrustri’s two ambassadors habitually wore an air of quiet defiance before the queen.
    “Althrustri,” they murmured, “is as great as Atlantis.”
    “The strong have no need of diplomacy,” she said dryly, “certainly not such diplomats as you.”
    They reported back regularly to their master about this extraordinary woman. She had no illusions about the Emperor Signar’s ambitions. She knew Althrustri to be younger, more vigorous, hungrier for dominion than Atlantis. She kept a wary eye to the north, she heard the protestations of friendship from Signar’s ambassadors without comment. She bore no resentment. Signar merely represented the inevitable. As well resent the storm, earthquake or flood. Youth was always in hot pursuit of age. Atlantis had had her day: Althrustri’s was coming. Nevertheless, she would delay the hour.
    “Be peaceful,” was her watchword. “Make no overt act, but let all see that your sword is well sharpened.” Her ministers, save Mahius, had urged disarmament. To make a constant show of nuclear aircraft and ships and missiles, together with disintegrating rays, was to tempt war, they said. Let the northern neighbor see Atlantis disarm, and it would soon follow suit. Salustra had smiled incredulously. How could so-called wise men be so simple? “A disarmed man is a temptation to his enemies,” she replied. She told her people: “If you love Atlantis and would enjoy peace, arm to the teeth.”
    The people had so trusted her that they had voted a larger arsenal of weapons. Signar had been compelled to give Salustra a grudging accolade. “This is a leader,” he told his distresssed ambassadors, “though she leads a sick and craven flock.”
    The Althrustri were not sufficiently advanced technologically to match Atlantis in any nuclear race. But through espionage, through promises, to Atlantean malcontents and traitors, of petty principalities and high offices, they had stolen what they could not create. They had touched off their first blasts in the glacial wilderness north of their bleak capital city of Rayjava. Huge gaping holes had been torn into mountains of ice, and clouds of heavy mist had vaporized, hovering over the ice caps like a thick blanket. After a while, the water level immediately south of Althrustri had risen noticeably, but they thought nothing of this, not knowing enough of the weapons they had stolen to understand their long-range action. And in his contempt for the consequences, Signar made it clear he would not hesitate to use the atom in attack. “What other reason for weapons, but to subdue one’s adversaries?”
    He despised the Atlantean regime’s reluctance to curb him when they had the chance. “Except for their Empress,” he said scornfully, “they are all women.”
    Beyond his plan of annexing Atlantis, there was a mounting interest in this