"Why not take your planes, fly over and clean him out before he's strong enough to fight you?" I asked.
Tarquin gazed at me, and he looked bewildered. "Osmand makes no war. We have our civil officers, but our army is small. We of Osmand, and of the other city states on this continent have lived in accord two thousand years without fighting. Garok will not invade us. But he does harbor criminals, and thereby makes trouble."
And that was that. War was simply out of mind. And why not. If ever there was a placid countryside, which we toured in the next two weeks, it was the continent upon which Osmand was built. There were farms, small factories, everywhere homes with large grounds, and men, women and children employed. Everybody greeted you with a smile, it seemed, and there was much singing. It got Jim like it did me, and I remember what a jerk Shadrak pulled us up with, when checking with him from the ship after a tour of the continent to the other cities—Nostran, Tula and Polis. Shadrak told us the invading horn of Noir had indeed accelerated its spread toward the system of Maj and would engulf it within no less than eight weeks.
Tarquin accepted our report from Shadrak, for in the legend that Earthmen would come, was a prophecy of destruction to Spor. "Yes," he said slowly, pacing his terrace, his family engaged in sports below, "we have been watching the dark cloud you call Noir. Our astronomers are uncertain of the result."
"We're not," Jim said. "Noir will blast every vestige of life from Spor. The Martians know. They offer refuge on their planet, till you find another Spor. We can remove the first thousand. The Martians will send other ships, if you agree."
"If we agree." Tarquin stood beside the terrace parapet, with the skyline of Osmand gilded in a low sun. A shaft of light struck a passenger plane bound for a landing field. Cries of children, picnicking across the river in a park, drifted to us. Tarquin twisted a bit of paper into a wad, tossed it to the lawn. Then he turned to Jim. "I'll radio the other governors," he said. "We must place this information before them all, and let the people vote."
"Elections," Jim cried. "That will take weeks. We've got to act now. Shadrak says the dark nebula has tripled its speed toward Maj in the last seven days."
"Yes," Tarquin agreed simply. "That has been noted too, from our observatory. Last night two stars were blotted out. I'm sorry, my friends, if we delay. But that is the way to act. Now, if you'll pardon me, I'll invite the governors for a conference."
To our surprise Tarquin summoned Garok with the others. He was unlike the others, a spare, square jawed man no older than Jim Drake, eyes tending to the shifty side and with the gift of an orator. He could hardly wait till Tarquin delivered his talk of our mission. I could see the other governors refused to be stirred as Tarquin. One, Dalin, a fat, amiable chap, laughed. "Nonsense," he exclaimed. "I'll grant you these young men may have come from Earth as they come, but they could be putting over a giant hoax," he added shrewdly.