Atmosphere! And the rocket ship was slicing through it at thousands of miles an hour. Immediately grey clouds blanked down on the portholes lighted presently by a fiery glow as the outer plates fused and sizzled under the stupendous friction.
Down and down, faster and faster, with a terrible din deafening her ears. The Amazon shut her eyes and clenched her fists, tensed for the terrific impact of striking Earth. The heat became insufferable, and the spent air scorchingly hot.
Then the crash came. It hurled her two feet up from the floor and back again, a crumbled heap in a corner of the little cabin. The vessel still seemed to go down and then up again, amid the din of exploding jets of steam and rupturing hot plates.
Rocking gently to and fro, the rocket ship stopped its wild plunging. Stunned, the Amazon lay motionless, entirely unaware that the walls had split by the abrupt plunging of the white-hot vessel into the Pacific ocean. Now the water was commencing to trickle through, collecting in a pool on the floor, rising steadily, giving the rocket a keel which prevented it rocking. Utterly knocked out, the Amazon lay where she was.
But outside the rocket things were happening. From grey vapours and storm clouds a queerly designed, wingless machine glided down silently, and came to rest on the water. Here in these once sub-tropic regions the temperature had not yet reached freezing point. The odd machine moved rapidly until it was touching the sides of the fallen rocket. A man appeared through an opened airlock. He was tall, massively built, covered from head to foot in a curious one-piece garment which had the gleam of gold. Even his hair and ears were imprisoned in a rubber-like cowl.
With a lithe movement he leaped to the rocket and seized the edge of the topmost riven plates. With the strength of a Hercules he bent them gradually away from each other and then jumped down into the narrow darkness. In the space of a few moments he had swept up the unconscious Amazon in his arms and carried her to his own vessel. He closed the airlock and then sat down beside a complicated control board, watching as the Amazon slowly recovered on the wall bed on which he had lain her.
He smiled to himself as he noticed the strength and slenderness of her figure, the yellowness of her skin, the almost breathtaking beauty of her features even in unconsciousness. Turning, he picked up an instrument like a hypodermic needle and bent over the girl, plunging it into her arm. She stirred, gasped a little, and then opened her eyes.
She could not believe what she saw. The features of her rescuer were strong, apparently young, and most certainly handsome. He loosened the cap from his ears and head as she stared at him, and there was released a shock of vividly blond hair, as golden as her own. Eyes, a curious shade of reddish blue, considered her in kindly good nature.
“Better?” he inquired, putting a powerful arm behind her shoulders and raising her slightly.
“Much better, thank you.” The Amazon jerked free of his grip with an indignant glance. “What — what happened? Where are you from?”
The stranger stood up and the Amazon’s wide violet eyes followed his stature from head to toe. He was possibly six feet, eight or ten inches tall, and muscled like a Greek god. The strength of his frame was visible even through the close-fitting gold-hued tunic he was wearing.
“I am afraid,” he said, in the quietest of voices, “that you would have died had I not rescued you from that rocket. It had burst and water was pouring into it. So I brought you here.”
The Amazon glanced about the unfamiliar control room, and the equally, unfamiliar control board. She had never seen a machine quite like this in all her experience. Then she noticed the hermetically sealed windows and the big rubber sheath over the airlock.
“This is a space ship,” she ejaculated suddenly.
“Yes, indeed,” young giant agreed gravely.
“Then...” Frowning, the Amazon set her feet on the floor and scooped the disordered hair from her face. “Who are you?” she insisted.
“My name is ... “ He seemed to hesitate. “Abna,” he said.
“Oh?”
Abna smiled and white teeth gleamed. “You are limiting your range, Miss Brant,” he told her. “Recently you travelled much farther than Mars or Venus. You went nearly as far as Saturn, operating between his orbit and Jupiter on one occasion, while on another you spent a lot of time between Jupiter and Mars in the region of the asteroids.”
“I cannot see,” the Amazon said, “what that has to do with it.”
“I am Abna of Jupiter,” the giant explained. “Or at least that is what you call my world. We know it as Vaz, but that is beside the point.”
The Amazon’s violet eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t believe you,” she said bluntly, standing up. “Jupiter has a high ammonia content in his atmosphere. Such a man as you, essentially Earthly — even if you are on the big side — could never have evolved on a planet like Jupiter, with his huge gravitation. I would be more inclined to expect someone reptilian.”
“Perhaps,” Abna said, “my appearance is occasioned by the fact that though I was born and raised on Jupiter, my ancestry belongs to Earth.”
“Impossible!”
“Not at all. You must have heard of Atlantis. Like every body else you must have wondered what became of the survivors of the continent of Mu?”
Chapter IX
The Amazon did not look up. In fact she was somehow feeling the indignity of being so much smaller than the man who had saved her. The top of her head barely reached his massive shoulders. Besides, his smile was irritating to her.
“Atlantis vanished at the time of the Deluge,” she said. “Or so say our records. And the Azores represent the spot where Atlantis and the continent of Mu once stood, the Azores being the actual mountain tops of the sunken continent.”
“Exactly so,” Abna agreed. “Please sit down, Miss Brant. You must be shaken after that fall you took.”
“I am perfectly all right, thank you.”
For answer he took her shoulders in his big hands, much as a strong man might hold a child. She attempted to pull loose but to her amazement was unsuccessful. The grip failed to dislodge and she was thrust gently but firmly into a sitting position on the wall bed. Then, as she gazed in wonder, Abna took a tool from the bench under the control panel and clipped through the manacles still on the Amazon’s wrists, finally casting the metallic clamps aside.
“Now,” he said, taking a fixed chair near her. “Let me explain.”
The Amazon just looked at him. For the first time in her life she had come across a man who was unaffected by her vast physical strength.
“There is ample evidence,” Abna said, “to show that the people of Atlantis were brilliant scientists; your own scientists admit that. They were. They knew the Deluge was coming and made preparations to avoid it. Knowing that in future ages the inner circle of planets would be invaded by Earth colonists they chose a more distant world — namely Jupiter. On that planet there is one area which we converted to our own use — one solid continent 800 miles across, surrounded by the ammonia vapours and terrific storms which are Jupiter’s normal lot. But on that one continent we thrive in an atmosphere rather like Earth’s and artificial means keep the gravitation suited to our constitutions.
“We have a scientific race thousands of years ahead of anything Earth can produce, chiefly because we started so much sooner. So you see I am really a man of Earth. Nor is there much difference in our ages. I am, by Earth standards, nearly sixty. You are fifty-five, but have the secret of almost eternal life, thanks to the experiments of a scientist when you were only three years of age. We too have means to prolong life indefinitely.”
“You seem to know quite a lot about me,” the Amazon commented.
“I know all about you,” Abna stated. “I have made it my business. Incidentally, my father is the chief scientist of our race, which ranks next in position to the actual ruler of the surviving Altanteans. In all there are about 3,000 of us.”
“And where on Jupiter is this continent you speak of?”
“Your astronomers call it the Great Red Spot, the only solid area in a molten world. Naturally, so that we shall not be visited by unwanted people we take care to render our continent apparently empty. It is a simple matter. Polarizing radiations which blank out light-waves and make the continent appear lifeless. Actually, there are cities, an artificial sun, progress, peace — everything.”
The Amazon relaxed slightly, impressed.
“Ever since the outset of your career on Earth we have followed your activities with interest,” he resumed. “Chiefly by means of our radio-television instruments which enabled us to both watch and hear events on Earth, as well as learn the language. I was fascinated by your scientific skill and proud isolation. You represented to me everything that a woman should be — but our instruments were not powerful enough to reveal you in detail. That chance came when you worked for so long near our planet. Every day I studied you by x-ray telescope. I wanted to speak to you, to say how much I admired you — so finally I decided that I would. At that moment you departed for your own world. I trailed you by instruments, but you had a long start on me and I did not catch up until recently when, imprisoned in that rocket, you plunged into the ocean.”
“Yes, simple when explained,” the Amazon admitted. “Since you have studied my activities for so long you must know my ambitions, the things I have done—”
“We are all agreed back home that you are the greatest scientist the Earth has recently produced.” Abna said seriously. “And certainly the most beautiful one. Though of course your science is still far behind ours.”
“I see.” the Amazon smiled cynically. “I assume then that you are also aware that I am trying to find a way of curing the dying sun?”
“We conjectured that that was the purpose of your special experiments. We had no definite information, though, since our contact with Earth was lost when the sun spots produced interference.”
“You say you have an artificial sun lighting your world?” the Amazon asked after a moment or two.
“Yes,” Abna smiled a little. “I know what you are thinking, Miss Brant — that we might be able to hand on to you the secret of our synthetic sun so that you can save this dying one of yours. Unfortunately the information would avail you nothing. Our sun — since we on Jupiter are at such a tremendous distance from the natural one — merely gives light, not heat. Jupiter has enough internal warmth of his own to keep us comfortable. A synthetic sun for light alone is simply created, especially when it has only to serve an area some 800 miles in radius. Your problem is much vaster — to rekindle a dying star so it can again bring life back to the freezing inner planets.”
“Given time,” the Amazon said, brooding. “I will solve it. I have the means, almost within my grasp.”
The giant was silent for a while, considering her. Then he said: “If there is anything I can do — or my knowledge of our advanced science can do — you have but to say so.”
A puzzled look came into the Amazon’s eyes. She searched Abna’s handsome face quickly.
“Abna, tell me something. Do you really mean that you crossed space to this freezing world just to meet me?” “Certainly. I would have crossed the universe if necessary. My race has many beautiful women, many clever ones, but throughout my life I have looked for one particular type of woman — and I have found her.”
“Clearly,” the Amazon said quietly, “you don’t know all about me, Abna, otherwise you would realize that you are wasting your time.”
“Are you convinced that I am?”
The Amazon did not answer. For once she could not think of the right words. There was a simple directness about the man which threw her off balance. He was utterly unlike any man with whom she had dealt before. Finally she said: “From a purely scientific viewpoint, Abna, we might make something of a partnership, since that is what you desire. You will at least learn that I am not the kind of woman to be swayed by anybody else. I’m a law unto myself I—”
She paused as she found him smiling at her.
“Don’t you believe it?” she demanded.
“Why shouldn’t I?”
She continued: “I am looking for a mineral substance, crystallized energy, which I call atomium. After searching in vain for it in space, I believe it was the very substance which hit my coffin ship and hurled it to Earth. When I reach my laboratory and instruments I intend to search for its location again and, if need be, go in search of it in space. If I can only get enough of it I can find a way to use it to rekindle the atomic power of the sun. Just one thing makes me wonder if the stuff was atomium. It didn’t explode when it struck my coffin ship.”
“It hardly would,” Abna said. “This crystallized energy exists. We have known that for years, but impact does not detonate it. It demands supersonic vibration in the order of 3,000,000 vibrations a second. A frequency that high does not exist in outer space, and indeed supersonics cannot exist in a vacuum at all, only in atmosphere. So, to detonate the substance, you need supersonics and atmosphere.”
The Amazon’s eyes glowed. “At last I can talk to somebody who understands me!” she exclaimed. “Somebody who can argue a scientific theory.”
“Somebody who, in some respects, knows far more about science than you do,” Abna added, still smiling.
The Amazon got to her feet in proud disdain and Abna rose too — massive yet respectful of her sex.
“You’re proud of your knowledge, aren’t you?” she asked curtly. “Proud of knowing more about atomium than I do?”
“I am only proud of the fact that my knowledge can help you, Miss Brant.”
She turned away for a moment and considered; then she appeared to come to a decision.
“What I said about us being partners, Abna, stands. But first I have one or two personal issues to settle. Three men tried to murder me in that rocket ship and I think they should be taken care of. Not only are they a menace to me but to everybody. They’re supposedly world leaders, but interested only in making fortunes. It is even possible that they have built faulty shelters.”
“Such traitors exist in any community. I agree with you that they should be eliminated. Name those you mean and I can take care of them for you.”
“I prefer to do it myself, thank you. Right now I must get to Brazil. I have my laboratory there — my relatives, too. From that point onward we’ll decide what to do.”
Abna nodded and turned to the control board.
Chapter X
The westernmost shores of South America were fringed with ice when Abna flew his strange and immensely speedy craft above them, and indeed throughout the journey from mid-Pacific there had been evidence of icebergs and, here and there, pack-ice. The deadly cold was reaching its tentacles down gradually to the tropical regions.
The Amazon gave directions and finally Abna began to bring the machine down on the fringe of a forest.
“There, to the east,” the Amazon said, pointing through the bowed outlook window. “You see that white dwelling with the grounds round it, that is our destination. I built it myself originally as a place to which I could retire when I wanted to experiment in peace ... then I sold it to the husband of my foster-sister — a Mr. Wilson.”
“Head of the Earth terminal of the Dodd Space Line,” Abna murmured, nodding. “Yes, I know.”
He touched the controls and the machine descended swiftly, finally alighting in the grounds of the white-fronted house. It had a deserted look.
“My relatives said they were coming here,” the Amazon said, frowning. “Unless something changed their plans—” Abna opened the airlock and stepped outside, helping the Amazon after him. Accustomed as she was to handling every situation for herself it came as quite a surprise to her to find she was accorded such chivalry. She even felt it necessary to comment — but before she could do so a lone figure came out of the home and hurried across the grounds.
“Chris!” the Amazon exclaimed; and as the giant glanced at her she added, “My foster-sister’s
husband.”
“Vi!” Chris came up at a run, his hand extended. “You’re here — alive and safe — after the things the council did to you. We heard all about it, that you were fired into space, and... There was nothing we could do and the news stunned us.” Chris stopped, considering the giant who towered over him smiling in his usual friendly fashion.
“This is Abna,” the Amazon introduced. “He saved my life when the rocket fell.” She sketched in the details.
“Atlantis?” Chris repeated vaguely, staring. Then he gave a shrug. “Well, I suppose it’s possible. With space travel an everyday fact why should we doubt Atlantis? New surprises are always turning up.”
“Are you alone here, Chris?” the Amazon asked, glancing toward the house. “What of Ethel and—”
“She and her mother have gone back to London.” Chris shook his head rather moodily. “I’m intending to follow them by the next air liner passing this route. There wasn’t room on the one they took. It’s no use staying here, Vi. Food’s running out; the tropics are so overcrowded with people they can’t be catered for. To my mind, it’s better to go to the big underground shelter section that has just been opened in London — the first of a series. From all accounts there are glaciers on the way and once they cover the British shelters there’ll be no escape from the underworld. I want to be down there with my wife and Rosy when that happens.”
“Yes, that’s understandable,” the Amazon admitted. “What about the scientific equipment I had under the house there?”
“I...” Christ hesitated. “I destroyed it, Vi.”
“Destroyed it? Great heavens, what for?”
“When the radio said you had been fired into space I couldn’t see any chance of you coming back, so rather than let your valuable instruments and secrets fall into the wrong hands, I decided to destroy everything.”
Conquest of the Amazon Page 5
