At a lazy hasteless pace, we were passing along what I saw to be a broad river. The Riola Amazonia[16] I afterward learned it to be. Heavy banks of luxurious foliage, dark and silent. Inundated in places. And after a few moments we slackened, turned sharply into one of the inundated coves and nosed slowly amid a tangle of the jungle bank.
[Footnote 16: Evidently the upper Amazon.]
And then I saw, hidden here in the recesses of this pathless forest, a small inter-planetary flyer, painted a hazy grey-blue. Around and over it the vegetation had been carefully, cunningly trained. A few cautious lights illumined it now; but without them, and even in daylight, I knew that from above it could never be seen.
Our party entered it--a small but surprisingly luxurious vessel. The foliage from above it was cut away by ready workmen; and in half an hour more we were rising from the forest. Straight up, into that cloudless sky. The land dropped away beneath us; visually concave at first as the circular horizon seemed to rise with us. The sky overhead fortunately was empty--nothing in sight to bar our outward flight. And we carried no lights.
In a moment or two, so swiftly did we gather velocity, the lights of Venia--a distant patch of them--were visible. Then, further away, I presently saw the grey expanse of open sea. And as we mounted, the simulated concavity of the Earth turned convex. I had never seen it thus--had never been so far above its surface before. A huge grey ball down there which was our Earth. Outlines of sea and land. Then continents and oceans, enveloped by patches of cloud area. A grey ball, changing to a glowing, vaguely dull red; then silver. Dwindling--gleaming brighter silver on one side where the sunlight struck it.
We were in the realms of outer, inter-planetary space!
After a trip uneventful--save that to me, taking it for the first time, it was an experience never to be forgotten in a lifetime--we landed at the Great City of Venus. We had sent no messages during the trip, and with our grey-blue color, I think we escaped telescopic and even radio observation by the Earth. Into our vessel's small instrument room, where Tarrano spent most of his time, reports of the news occasionally drifted in. But his connection--small and inadequate--was often broken. Nor did Tarrano this time seem interested in having Wolfgar, Elza and me learn the news. Yet it was not unfavorable to him. I gathered that the Earth formally had accepted his declaration of war. Relations with Venus--and with Mars also, had been discontinued. The mails no longer left. The helios were stopped. But, so far as I could learn, the Earth was undertaking no offensive action. For the present, certainly.