Free The Romance of Atlantis by Taylor Caldwell

unspeakable. Yet I am ever pleasantly surprised when a friend does not betray me.” She put out a hand reassuringly as Mahius flinched. “They shall pay, either at my hand or Signar’s. No ruler trusts him who betrays his own people.”
    “They are so numerous, Majesty.”
    “Yes, the rotten apple is not worth saving.”
    He laughed mirthlessly. “Thou dost agree with the High Priestess Jupia, who prophesies some terrible catastrophe.”
    The Empress snorted. “That old crone. She has been preaching doomsday ever since Sati closed her womb. How else can she express her frustrations?”
    Her eyes ran over the glittering assemblage, lingering on the distinguished Nobles and Senators grouped around tables that had been lowered so that the feasting guests could sit or recline comfortably. They seemed oblivious of the multiplying threats to their country’s very existence. Masking an expression of disgust, she turned back to Mahius. “What else say these scientists of thine?”
    Mahius shrugged. “Goleta and Molanti agree that the recent tremor was responsible for not only this accursed heaviness in the air but certain erratic movements in the ocean tides, which may affect all electric output before long.”
    Salustra laughed bleakly.
    “As any can see—” she pointed to slaves waving heavy fronds “—the palace cooling system has already stopped functioning.” She rested her chin in her hand. “Knowest thou for sure whether this atom-breaker was exploded underground or in the atmosphere?”
    He nodded soberly. “I cannot be sure, Majesty, but even underground, it still might generate enough heat to thaw the frozen sea and send it tumbling down on our heads.”
    She shook her head. “My scientists tell me that the subterranean earth mass safely contains an atomic blast and the ensuing radiation, but in the atmosphere there is a continuous chain reaction, with ever more heat and energy building up until the very skies take fire.”
    Mahius gave an expressive shrug. “As thou knowest, the Atlantean atmosphere-changer was used but once, on an invading army of marauding dinosaurs. They not only vanished, but the vast territory they foraged vanished with them.”
    Her brows knit together. “And how long ago was this, Mahius?”
    “Many centuries, Majesty.”
    “And we have not used one since.”
    “We are too civilized, Majesty.”
    She made a wry face. “Not civilized, Mahius, decadent, degenerate, cowardly. We cannot stand the thought of inflicting death on millions, yet is it not as horrible to kill but one person? If that one life is of no importance, then a million times naught is no more important.”
    As usual when he sat long, the Minister’s tired eyes became bleary and his gray head began to nod.
    Tyrhia had looked up brightly from the young man so free with his hands.
    “So solemn, Salustra, on my birthday?”
    The incongruity of Tyrhia’s demeanor, in the face of a very real national danger, nettled Salustra more than she would have thought. “How like her mother,” she found herself thinking, even while admiring her brittle prettiness.
    Before Salustra could frame a reply, a smoking brazier was thrust before her. She poured a goblet of wine upon it in honor of Sati. The fragrance of the perfumed libation hung in the warm atmosphere, as the shapely slaves, glistening in their nudity, moved on light feet to serve the guests.
    Salustra continued to talk seriously to Mahius. She drank little of the weak wine, and then only with a wry mouth. “Thou wilt remain for the later feast, Mahius?”
    He looked at the Empress with pleading eyes. “There will be women later, of course, Majesty?”
    Salustra’s lip curled a little, and she inclined her head.
    “No righteous virgins; no women with weak wine in their veins. But there will be females, I assure thee, Mahius.”
    Mahius looked at her directly, and there was something in that steadfast regard that caused her to drop her eyes.
    She glanced around