Daughter of the Amazon: The Golden Amazon Saga, Book Five. John Russell Fearn
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The Amazon gave a wan smile. “You know, Chris, I have been so intent on trying to work this thing out, I’d forgotten all about him.”
“What puzzles me is, how do you contact Brodix? He’s in a Universe outside our own, isn’t he? Inhabiting a planet made up entirely of mathematical postulations?”
“True, but he is sensitive to thought-waves. He came to my aid before when I concentrated—my thoughts winging the gulf to him at almost instantaneous speed—so there is no reason why he should not do so again.”
“Instantaneous speed?” Chris puzzled, as the Amazon settled herself in a chair to begin concentrating.
“Certainly. Thought, Chris, is the swiftest messenger in the universe and untrammelled by physical laws.”
With that the Amazon closed her eyes and concentrated. But seconds crept into minutes and nothing happened. The Amazon opened her eyes and sat motionless, waiting for some sign of that pale mist that would announce the arrival of the queer gnome-like being whose knowledge was beyond all human ken. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Then half an hour had gone.
The Amazon sat frowning. Then she said: “I have it!” She got to her feet. “The Dark is between Brodix and me, and that Dark will not carry any radiation, not even thought-waves. I’m utterly cut off from him.”
“Then…what happens?”
The Amazon did not answer, but when she presently raised her eyes again and found Chris looking at, her she felt as though somehow he could read her thoughts. The fact seemed confirmed when he said simply,
“Abna.”
“Yes, Abna might be able to overcome the trouble. He understands many things that I do not—and vice-versa. But that is no answer to the problem because only Brodix can ever bring Abna back.”
“Without Brodix you’re utterly lost, then?”
The Amazon did not admit the fact openly, but her expression was sufficient.
“I never thought it would one day come to this,” Chris muttered. “That the Golden Amazon should find herself with a problem she couldn’t solve, and be cut off from those who might help her. The people, when they eventually hear of it, will lose a lot of confidence in you, Vi.”
“I can’t help it, can I?” the Amazon demanded angrily, her violet eyes glowing. “I have far-reaching knowledge, and know it—but there are limits, and I’ve reached them. I—”
She paused and snatched up the visi-phone as it buzzed.
“Yes? Miss Brant speaking.… Mr. Wilson? Yes, he’s here.”
Chris took the instrument. “This is Wilson,” he said, and listened attentively. The Amazon took little heed of him, lost in her own thoughts, until something in the tone of his voice made her glance up.
“And it has no insignia at all? From the direction of the outer planets? Yes, allow it to land in the usual way and have the spaceport controller make full inquiry.”
Chris switched off and said: “A fairly large space machine has been reported heading for Earth. It does not belong to any of the known space lines. No contact has been attempted with it so far.”
“From the direction of the outer planets, didn’t you say?”
“Yes.”
The Amazon motioned Chris to follow her. They went into the observatory and by the actuation of various switches the girl closed the roof except the trap through which the telescope projected. In consequence the observatory itself was thrown into total darkness. After a moment a glimmer of light came into being. The Amazon moved another switch and a screen glided into position where the scanning chair usually stood.
There was a click. Despite the daylight outside the light-wave trap in the instrument functioned perfectly and upon the screen appeared a vision of space. It changed rapidly as the Amazon spun wheels or played her fingers up and down a series of numbered keys.
Chris exclaimed abruptly, “There it is!”
The Amazon was already aware of the fact. She studied the screen intently. Clearly visible was a space machine totally unlike any used on the normal routes.
“That vessel is similar to the ones Abna used to have on Jupiter,” she said. “For all I know, they might still be on Jove since it was partly resurrected.”
The Amazon began moving swiftly. She switched off the instrument, restored the daylight, and then hurried into the house with Chris behind her.
“Where now?” he inquired, as the Amazon fled toward her bedroom.
“I’m going to the spaceport to meet that ship when it comes in. You can take me down in your car.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SON-IN-LAW TROUBLE
At the spaceport she gave orders that the unknown machine was not to be interfered with in any way and that it was to be allowed a free landing—then she spent her time wandering about the building, keeping herself alert for the loudspeakers announcing the vessel’s arrival. Finally the advice came through. Immediately she hurried out of the building and stood watching the machine come in.
Finally it settled. Obeying the girl’s orders, no mechanics hurried to the machine. It was left to itself. The Amazon crossed the broad space to where the machine stood, keeping her eyes on the airlock. She realized that her imagination was probably running riot, that what she expected would happen was decidedly unlikely— Then her thoughts stopped and she came to a halt in her advance. The airlock had opened and a figure was standing there, gigantically tall and broad shouldered, blond-headed, attired in the semi-Grecian style of a high dignitary of Atlantis.
“Abna!” the Amazon whispered, going forward again and staring at him fixedly. “Abna! Then my guess was right!”
“Hello, Vi.” He came forward, moving with his well-remembered dignity. But he was not smiling. His handsome face was cold, uncompromising. When he finally reached the Amazon he did not stoop to kiss her. Instead he looked at her intently.
“How did you get back?” she asked, recovering herself.
“From the Twenty-Fifth Plane? I don’t know. It just happened.”
“But it couldn’t—”
“I tell you it did! I didn’t ask to be sent back. I didn’t even want it. Viona and I were making out quite well— She’s with me.”
“She is?” The Amazon swung away and hurried to the vessel’s huge airlock just as Viona appeared in it. She was lightly clad, her copper-gold hair sweeping to her shoulders. But, like Abna, she was not smiling. Her sapphire blue eyes had a hard, staring light and the usual upturned corners of her mouth were dragged down. She looked bitter, resentful.
“Hello,” was all she said, as the Amazon embraced her.
“What’s the matter with you?” the Amazon demanded. “You and your father both look alike—disgruntled, embittered. Whatever differences we may have had we can surely meet again with a smile, can’t we?”
Viona did not respond. Instead she glanced behind her into the roomy control cabin. The Amazon looked also. Standing by the switchboard was a familiar figure—hatchet-faced, with the forehead of an intellectual, his heliotrope-colored eyes full of sardonic amusement.
“Quorne!” the Amazon exclaimed.
“It has been quite some time since we met, Amazon,” he commented, moving forward. “Possibly I am the cause of my wife and Abna looking so dispirited. They believe—or at least Viona does—that you intend to carry out your threat to destroy me now chance has brought me back again.”
“Kill my husband if you dare!” Viona breathed, her young face venomous. “I won’t stand for it, mother!