Conquest of the Amazon

by John Russell Fearn

  “What about it?” the Amazon asked quickly. “Is it safe enough for the people to go below?”

  He nodded. “The shelter’s finished and the shaft can be sealed off safely. The test will come when that load of ice settles above. If the shelter stands up to it it will be okay. There are only small details to finish, such as drainage, crop planting, and the like.”

  “You’ll see us when we’ve revived the sun,” the Amazon told him. “If we don’t succeed this is the last time we’ll see each other, I’m afraid.”

  There was confidence in Chris’ smile as he shook hands with the girl and then with Abna.

  “You’ll do it between you,” he said — and then dashed away to attend to the details of getting the people below.

  The Amazon and Abna raced back through the headquarters office to the laboratory. Beyond it, in the hangar, the chief engineer was supervising the clamping of the pick-a-back machine to the top of Abna’s strange craft. “All in order?” the Amazon inquired, and he nodded. “Yes. It should be okay, Miss Brant. Everything just as you ordered it.”

  “Thanks. You better go and take your men with you. You have just time to get below before the glacier arrives.”

  The men departed swiftly. Abna glanced at the Amazon. “Get your image and put it in this subsidiary machine,” he said. “I’ll check up on all needful things in the vessel.”

  He climbed quickly through the airlock and into the craft, and he and the Amazon started to work at top speed. Even so it took them fifteen minutes to get all the details straight. Then the Amazon climbed into the machine’s control room.

  As she closed the airlock door Abna switched on the power — that mysterious degravitative power which only seemed to be understood by him.

  The men who guarded the doors of the hangar roof set them sliding apart and the ship darted out into the blackness of the afternoon and was gone.

  The people moved below to their new quarters, and Chris gave a sigh of relief as standing in the brilliant cold lights of the vast underground cavern, he watched the massive slide closing into position, sealing the buried city from the upper world, perhaps only until scientific wizardry rekindled the sun.

  “Pity we can’t see the glacier coming,” Ethel remarked, as with her mother she stood at her father’s side.

  “I’m thankful we can’t,” he responded. “We’ll feel it when it smashes down the upper cavern and the remains of what used to be Charing Cross station.”

  Ethel nodded. Perhaps it was a mercy that the x-ray screens, which later would give a view of the outer world through the solid rock and ice, were not yet completed.

  “I wonder,” Ethel mused, as she watched the sealing valve close the shaft, “if the rest of the people surviving in the world have kept themselves safe?”

  “Up to a week ago they had,” her father replied. “We were in touch by radio until then. Most of the big cities have their shelters in all parts of the world.”

  A hush fell on the multitude of people who had gathered at the base of the shaft. They just could not bring themselves to move or take up the threads of existence again until they knew what their fate was to be. Most of them motionless, their faces drawn and strained, they stood waiting.

  Then the glacier arrived, signalling its approach by a series of concussions from somewhere above as ice-locked buildings were smashed to atoms before the irresistible advance. A slow moving landslide, over a mile high, pushing everything inexorably before it, the glacier rolled across the space where the shelter lay, and the din of those countless tons of frozen matter on the move was well nigh unbearable below, sending shattering vibratory waves of sound through the rock which stung the eardrums and tortured the nervous system.

  The shelter — as must all those throughout the country which had experienced the glacier’s arrival — quivered violently as if in the grip of an earthquake. The glacier had become far bigger than before, having accumulated entire mountains on its way, pulverizing them as it travelled. Now the colossal pressure bore down on the shelter and the racked, tortured people within stood their ground as the din increased and the vibration became a terrifying thing that it seemed must bring the metal-lined walls crashing in upon them:

  The people began to fall like so many toys, prostrate before the concussive effect of the waves of sound. The buried shelter swayed, the metal walls creaked under the strains - but they did not give way.

  Chris Wilson, flat on his back, clinging desperately to consciousness, slowly began to realize that the frightful quaking was subsiding. The glacier was moving on and had left behind its main mass, a mile thick perhaps, with this shelter buried under it — to remain forever sealed unless two scientific brains battling with a cosmic catastrophe could somehow restore chaos to normalcy.

  The Amazon and Abna, far out in space, were not permitted to see what happened when the great glacier arrived over London’s main shelter, for the glacier brought with it such huge air disturbances that dense clouds hid the scene below from view — a fact which caused a troubled look to settle on the Amazon’s features.

  “I’d like to have known how they fared,” she muttered, seated with Abna at the control board. Do you suppose we might find out by radio?”

  “Unlikely. Solar interference for one thing, and the electrical storms generated on the surface by the movement of the glacier for another. Not that I think you have any need to worry. I’m sure the shelter would survive.”

  The Amazon, typically, since she could not do anything about the matter, put it on one side for the time being and turned to study the atomium-detector. The needle pointed diagonally upward, roughly in the direction of the pale shadow which was the moon. Beside the detector was another instrument which set the course, its needle lying exactly parallel with the detector finger.

  “I wonder what happened to Arnside?” the Amazon mused, looking through the telescopic sights. “I don’t see him anywhere, and I certainly don’t think he’d ever have the nerve to fly to the outer solar system. He must be lingering somewhere, waiting to spring something.”

  “We can deal with him if he does,” Abna responded. “I have weapons on this vessel which are even more deadly than those on your Ultra. Some of them can even work through the fourth dimension, by which a straight beam can be made to turn a corner — or so it appears.”

  Abna studied the instruments for a while made some calculations, and then said:

  “At our present speed we should reach the area where the atomium is located in something like two hours. In the meantime I’d like to take up our conversation from where it was interrupted by the arrival of the glacier.”

  The Amazon did not look at him. She kept her eyes to the telescopic sights. “About me, you mean?” she asked.

  “Yes. When all this is over, Vi — when we have restored the sun, if we can — what do you suppose we are going to do? You surely don’t intend that you will continue your scientific experiments back on Earth and that I will go back to my people on Jupiter?”

  “Why not?” she asked. “There is always something to be learned. You are aware of that yourself. You do not understand synthesis of life. I do not understand the fourth dimension. Those two subjects alone are worth a lifetime’s study, are they not?”

  “Perhaps, but I have the feeling that a woman of your turn of mind is seeking something far more satisfying than the mysteries of the fourth dimension. You are not a dabbler, Vi, playing with this experiment and then that; there must be some purpose behind the work you do.”

  “Yes, there is,” she admitted, “Call it a dream, if you like, but at least I have made part of it come true. I am trying, planet by planet — excluding Mercury so near to the sun, and Pluto so far away — to create a union of the Solar System, to bring all the planets together under one government — a sane, sensible government. To that end I have brought the moon under Earth’s jurisdiction; then came Venus after a good deal of trouble, and then Mars — which led to the present solar disaster whe
n I flung the remainder of the Martian race, bent on ruthless invasion of Earth, into the sun.”

  “If the sun recovers, then, and you continue with your plan, Jupiter will come next,” Abna pointed out. “He’s the next world in order from the sun — the first of the outer planets.”

  Chapter XX

  The Amazon smiled. “Yes, I had intended Jupiter to be next for colonization. Now that can never be. You and your race will never consent to being controlled by a universal government which has its headquarters on Earth and me at the head.”

  “You!” Abna looked surprised. “So far you haven’t tried to rule the Earth. Do you mean that you intend to?”

  “If the sun recovers, yes. Up to now I have always allowed government to be handled by others — but they have never ruled with a great deal of sense, and I also believe it is a mistake to have different countries with different governments. It destroys all chance of unity because of opposing ideologies - so henceforth I shall personally rule, and I am convinced that if I bring the sun back the people of Earth will want me as their leader, which is something I have always hoped for since that long gone day when I was outcast for trying to rule the world by force.”

  “There is one way in which Jupiter can come into your plan,” Abna said. “By your uniting with — that is marrying — me.

  The Amazon gazed broodingly out of the window on to the depthless majesty of space and the dying sun.

  “Why not?” Abna persisted. “We are two of a kind — both scientific, both young in physique. We each have a different science; we each understand something the other does not. Together we could pool our knowledge and the United Solar System would be infinitely nearer being realized. Remember there are other worlds you still have to master after Jupiter - Uranus, Saturn, and Neptune. What they contain we don’t know because we have been at no pain to find out.”

  “No man ever talked to me like this before,” the Amazon said.

  “Probably no man had cause to as I have.”

  For a long time the Amazon was silent; then she said: “Suppose we talk of this again when we have less on our minds?”

  “But surely you can say whether or not you have any regard for me?”

  “I admire your scientific prowess, Abna.” The Amazon’s violet eyes contemplated him frankly, a vague, half-puzzled light in their depths. “And as a man you leave little to be desired. As for love - it is only an emotion, and a rather foolish one. No union is based on love; it is physical attraction every time.”

  Abna sighed and gave a slight smile. “All right, we’ll discuss it again later,” he agreed.

  The Amazon turned back to the telescopic sights. There was no sign of the Ultra. Then as time passed she gave up looking for the vanished Arnside and concentrated with Abna upon the task of locating the mass of atomium which the detector showed existed.

  They came within range of it unexpectedly when they had reached 200,000 miles from Earth. It was moving swiftly away from them following an erratic orbit in its soundless sweep through the void.

  “That’s it!” the Amazon cried, pointing through the window. “Whether it’s the same chunk which hit me when I was in the rocket ship I don’t know, but it’s certainly possible— And the size of it!” she went on eagerly. “There’s enough power there to blow a couple of planets into dust!”

  “From the look of things it’s following an orbit round the moon,” Abna said, studying the mass. “Our job is to grab it and take it to Mercury, then see how much more of it we can find.”

  While he controlled the vessel, swinging it in close to the enormous grey mass, the Amazon handled the magnetic grapples, finally anchoring the stuff and tailing it along in their wake as Abna headed in the direction of Mercury. He could only lay his course by calculations since the planet itself, due to the feeble light of the dying sun, was not even visible.

  “I suppose,” the Amazon said, looking through the rear port upon the trailing atomium, “that we haven’t enough here for our purpose?”

  “I doubt it. The sun’s area is tremendous. I estimate that we’ll need twice as much to get an effectual core of energy.”

  “You’d better insulate this stuff, Abna, so it doesn’t affect the detector needle.”

  He got up. “All right. Take over for a while.”

  The Amazon did not particularly like having to admit that neutralizing the atomium’s attraction was something she did not understand. She watched silently as he switched on one of his instruments which, he explained, generated an insulative shield round the stuff and prevented it affecting the detector. The Amazon glanced at it. The needle was now pointing straight ahead instead of to the rear.

  “More atomium somewhere, right in our track,” she commented. “All the better.”

  Abna returned to the control board, leaving his neutralizing radiation in operation. The Amazon went to the window again. For a few seconds she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be showers of stars, clearly discernable against the moon’s rocky, deserted face.

  “The Ultra!” she ejaculated. “Exhaust from the firing tubes! That’s what that was!”

  Abna turned and looked at her sharply. “Where?”

  “On the moon, just a moment ago. That’s where Arnside must have been hiding. He’s probably kept track of our movements with the telescope ever since we left Earth. Now, although we can’t see him at the moment, I take it that he’s following us.”

  She hurried across to the telescopic sights and swung them through a wide arc, studying the void intently; but it was impossible to see the Ultra against the star-dusted backdrop. In normal circumstances the glare of the sun would have picked the vessel out as a silver pencil but the present exhausted red glow failed to provide the least telltale reflection, and since he was in space moving at a fixed velocity Arnside had no further use for the rocket tubes either, so their exhaust did not give away his position.

  “Thank heaven there’s no air,” the Amazon muttered, giving up her scrutiny of the void. “If there were he could detonate this stuff we’re dragging along and that would be the end of us.”

  “And him,” Abna pointed out. “The blast from a chunk as big as that would blow him to powder even at 500 miles — and the projector certainly cannot operate over that range. No need to worry on that score. He must have something else in mind.”

  The Amazon said nothing. She sat down and began to make calculations.

  “On Mercury,” the girl said at length, looking up, “there is likely to be a very thin atmosphere. Air of sorts. Normally when the sun is at his natural glory there is no air on Mercury. But now, with the sun’s heat no more than a glimmer, that atmosphere will have spread uniformly over the planet. It should be a temperate planet on the sunward side. And if there is air Arnside can detonate the atomium once we’re within atmosphere. That he will destroy himself as well doesn’t concern him, I think I’m convinced that his aim is to wipe us out, no matter what the cost to himself?”

  Abna shrugged. “We’ll have to risk it, that’s all. What we can do is put on speed to such an extent that we’ll outdistance him, and he may lose us.”

  He operated the controls, building speed upon speed, until presently the velocity became so tremendous that both he and the girl, in spite of their superhuman constitutions began to feel the strain.

  “We’re going to move a lot faster yet,” Abna said, turning a drawn face to the girl, “but it will be more than we can take sitting like this. I’ll have to set the course and let the machine carry on on its own until it achieves a constant velocity. Then we’ll be able to move again. One thing is certain — Arnside won’t be able to keep pace with this!”

  He snapped in the automatic controls, then got up and motioned the softly-sprung wall couches. He settled on one, lying flat out on his back; and the Amazon on the other — but whereas he gave himself up to the drifting unconsciousness occasioned by the stupendous pressure of acceleration, the Amazon remained with her wits about her, controllin
g her breathing, throwing no extra strain on her heart. She was accustomed to such ordeals as this, and hardened to them. Every muscle and nerve was under discipline. Unconsciousness would only come if she relaxed.

  For a long time she lay thinking, staring at the roof of the control room; then in the shadowless light her eyes moved to consider the young giant stretched senseless a couple of yards away from her.

  The Amazon preferred to test everything minutely before she accepted it. There was only one way to be sure of Abna, and that was to read his innermost thoughts. So far, the Amazon had never had the opportunity. He was unconscious, his mind uncontrolled, and she had the gift of reading thoughts by exerting her extraordinary mentality to the full.

  So she concentrated, gazing at him fixedly. With no calls upon her physique, she could give her mental power full play, and gradually she found herself in tune with the Atlantean giant’s thoughts. She examined them in detail with her usual mathematical precision. She saw that much he had said about his race and Jupiter, and the Great Red Spot had been true — but she also saw something else which he had never mentioned.

  It left her with a cold glint in her eyes and a tautness about her mouth. When she had finished concentrating she no longer wondered what answer she would give to Abna when the issue between them arose again.

  Chapter XXI

  When the ship had travelled far beyond the orbit of Venus and was still hurtling with incredible velocity toward Mercury, the required constant speed was achieved and the strangling pull of acceleration ceased. The Amazon got up from the couch and went to the outlook window.

  The vessel had almost completed the tremendous trip. The sun filled all the void, a titanic globe of deep red, his photosphere a mass of black fissures. He was not eye-shattering to look upon; no appreciable heat radiated from his gigantic bulk. Away to the right, in the accustomed spot, hung Mercury, a thin pink ring of atmosphere round his globe. The Amazon gave a grim smile as she realized that her calculation concerning air had been accurate. Where Mercury had never been able to retain a proper atmosphere envelope in normal times, he now had one when it was too late. When — or if — the sun became a white dwarf the air would freeze solid.