I shrugged my shoulders, astonished at my indifference, but sighed deeply as I saluted the exquisite creature reclining upon a skin-covered couch with a background of huge white blossoms whose heavy fragrance consumed the air. She arose, watching me doubtfully, hesitatingly. I hurried to her and caught her hands tightly; the witchery of her eyes was upon me.
“Alpha,” I murmured.
“Yes,” she replied. “I know, I know. Ah, if it had only been, Virgillius!”
I dropped her hands.
“Do not reproach me,” she pleaded. “I love as you have taught me. I’ve learned the lesson well. The Image claims me in the form of the Vespa Prince. Benlial! ah, Benlial! brings immortality; I am for eternity the Alpha who united the white races. In less than a century the Vespa race is extinct, mentioned as history, submerged by the powerful Centauris. Fate mocks, linking me to a people whom formerly I ridiculed, scorned; yet I would not have it otherwise. I adore my Prince. Love brought immortality, yet I would renounce both if once again I could be the Alpha of Sol. I existed in a divine atmosphere, gazed upon with awe; I basked joyously in the glorious golden light of my spiritual grandeur. Priestess of the Sun has passed away forever—immortality is the reward for undying regret.
“Virgillius, you have made me a woman, given me a conscience, a heart throbbing with exquisite passion, but in creating me you neglected Fate, yet you gave me life and I am yours.”
I stared at her, this marvelous woman in her folly defied even Fate. Then I knelt before Alpha Centauri in reverence of her grand, almost divine nature.
“I would be a monster to permit the sacrifice,” I murmured. “Do not mar the perfection of my creation. Be happy, joyous, bright as the golden rays of the god you worship. May you exist always in the brilliant dream of the present. In ten day I leave Centauri forever.”
She drew in her breath sharply, then clung to me, alarmed.
“We can never part,” she whispered. “Virgillius, I have been blind.”