Читать книгу The Amethyst City - John Russell Fearn - Страница 6

CHAPTER ONE

ATTEMPT TO KILL

The people of Earth and the neighbouring colony worlds were enjoying one of the quietest periods they had ever known. The period when the people had been under the subjection of Sefner Quorne, master-scientist of Jupiter, was mere history. Sefner Quorne had disappeared and with him had gone the menace of his personality.

In fact the latter days of the twenty-first century were quite a pleasant time in which to live. Most of the people knew they owed their lives and present tranquillity to Violet Ray Brant, the Golden Amazon, but so completely did the super­woman disdain praise that there did not seem to be any point in publicly thanking her. In fact, this would have been impractical anyway.

She was 20,000 miles from Earth in her space machine, the Ultra. She was just at the close of destroying a small but dangerous planetoid, which had fallen into an orbit about the Earth. Brought to this position by four-dimensional mechanics, the planetoid had been used by the Amazon as a thought reflector, which ingenious scheme had brought Sefner Quorne to disaster and freed Earth from his domination. But that the planetoid should remain as an added satellite of Earth was unthinkable. It was too sensitive an object, and too useful a weapon for enemies.

Now it floated in space in the form of dust, a shimmering grey cloud catching the light of the sun, a cloud that was nothing more than cosmic drift and no longer of use in any form.

“A very necessary job completed, Relka,” the Amazon commented, gazing out into space.

Her sole companion was a squat, ugly, crocodile-like man of Jupiter, a clever scientist despite his extraordinary physical vestment. He breathed the Earth-normal atmosphere aboard the Amazon’s ship as easily as his native ammoniated hydrogen, thanks to an amazingly adaptive metabolism. He did not respond to the Amazon’s comment. Instead, he was looking at the Amazon intently, struck by her queer expression. In all the time he had known her, he had never seen her looking introspective. Yet that mood seemed to be gripping her now.

The prominence-girdled sun threw her features into strong relief, fea­tures so breathtakingly lovely they were phenomenal. But the Golden Amazon was no ordinary woman. Science had made of her a creature of tremendous scientific attainments, and matched it with an incomparably perfect body and almost eternal youth. The Golden Amazon was more of a legend than a woman. Only one thing stopped her being altogether desir­able—the streak of ruthless cruelty in her makeup. It was this that isolated her from normal beings—isolated her from everybody indeed save one. And he was dead.

“I find it difficult to understand your mood, Amazon,” Relka com­mented at length, standing by the switchboard. “I had expected you would be particularly cheerful at having destroyed that planetoid; instead, I find you moody, somehow different.”

The Amazon started out of her pre­occupation and glanced up. It was hard to read anything from the deep violet of her eyes. Though Relka spoke entirely by telepathy, and could read thoughts clearly, he found it im­possible to penetrate the mask the Amazon had drawn over her mind. Long since she had discovered how to keep her innermost thoughts private.

“I am entitled sometimes to think of things beyond the immediate present,” she answered, giving a little sigh. “I spend most of my life straightening out difficulties for other people—so much so that when I think of something concerning myself, I am looked at in wonder.”

“Concerning yourself?” the Jovian repeated. “What could there be?”

The Amazon turned a little in the controlling seat and looked out across space. There on the rim of the solar system floated the magnificent ringed world of Saturn. Relka looked toward it.

“You are thinking of what we saw there? That amethyst city amidst the screaming winds? That some­thing which we could not explain?”

“I am thinking not only of that, Relka, but of Sefner Quorne as well. He is not dead, remember—or at least we have not proved that he is. As long as he remains alive, anything can happen. It’s over a year since he disappeared, and nothing has happened in the interval. But I am not comfortable. I never shall be until I know he is obliterated. I have had many enemies, but none so dangerous as Quorne.”

The Amazon’s extraordinary eyes moved to look at nearer Jupiter. She contemplated it for a long time, going again over the moments that had been her last with Abna, the god-like master of Jupiter. He had died in the collapse of his laboratory, a collapse brought about by Quorne, formerly Abna’s chief adviser. Abna! There had only been one man in all the universe whom the Amazon had found it impossible to overcome. Though she pretended indifference to his death, she inwardly knew better. His demise had left a far bigger gap in her life than she had ever thought possible.

“We had better return to Earth,” she said, arousing herself. “Our work here is done.”

Closing the power switches, she turned the enormous Ultra around in a sweeping arc and headed its nose toward the not far distant Earth. Relka was silent for a while, contemplating space, then he turned to the Amazon again.

“Do you think any good purpose could be served by going to Saturn again and exploring it? Quorne may be somewhere on that planet—even in that amethyst city we saw.”

“That city was an illusion,” the Ama­zon replied. “It defied all natural laws. Such a beautiful place surrounded by soft green pastures and illuminated by a hidden golden sun just couldn’t really be there. Saturn is too far from the sun to have so much light, for one thing, and for another his composition is such that one can only expect raging storms, eternal mist, and complete lack of inhabitants. No, I shall not return to Saturn. From here on I shall pursue my own particular scientific hobbies on Earth. I have lost my taste for roaming.”

“Because you have no congenial com­panion?” Relka asked, and the Amazon flashed him a sharp glance.

“Why do you say that? I couldn’t have a more loyal friend than you.”

“We work well together, Amazon, because we are of different worlds and cannot, therefore, be physically attracted toward one another. But that is not what you want. I get glimpses of your thoughts sometimes—usually they are centred on Abna. You miss him. You have never forgiven yourself for reviling him when he lived. You would like the chance to do it again.”

“I shall never forget Abna,” the Ama­zon admitted ambiguously, then she ceased speaking and her mind was masked again.

She returned the machine to Earth, settling it in the big hangar at the rear of her own residence. The Jovian paused as he opened the hangar’s door preparatory to stepping into her home.

“You wish me to remain, Amazon?” he questioned.

“If you will not find it dull, yes. I enjoy your scientific outlook. You can always return to your own planet if you tire of inactivity.”

The Jovian nodded, and entered the silence of the great residence, and thereafter it housed two of the most diverse beings it was possible to imagine—one a lovely woman, and the other a terrifying-looking creature with a skin like a crocodile. Yet they understood each other.

In spite of everything, however, the Amazon could not pin herself down to scientific experiments. She made several valiant efforts to interest herself in laboratory technique, exploring matters far beyond the average ken of Earth science, but her heart was not in it. For increasingly long periods she would stand at the bench, her violet eyes fixed on distance, her whole body rigid. Relka was becoming alarmed, though he did his best not to show it.

It was on the morning when the Amazon collapsed suddenly that he felt he had to speak. One moment she was working with an electrical machine; the next, she sprawled helplessly on the floor, and remained there with her eyes wide open and every muscle rigid. With his gigantic strength the Jovian had no difficulty in lifting her. He carried her to a divan in the lounge. But it was four hours before she be­gan to relax and return to normal.

“Amazon, just what is the matter?” his thoughts demanded. “A woman of your flawless physique should not be subject to this kind of thing. You have got to find out the cause!”

She was silent for a while, relaxed on the divan, her eyes half narrowed as she concentrated.

“Physically I was unconscious,” she said at length, “but mentally I was completely alive. I saw that amethyst city again. I also saw—Abna.” Her voice caught a little. “It was the most extraordinarily vivid dream I have ever known. Yet—just a dream.”

“Obviously, Amazon, you have got to rid yourself of these delusions—for that’s what they are. They are overriding you, clouding your judgment.”

She was silent, reflecting.

“I am your closest friend,” Relka con­tinued earnestly. “I have watched you slowly sink into these queer mental wanderings for over a year now. It alarms me. If the Amazon loses her powers of scientific genius, her gift for lightning thinking, what is to happen to everybody? You know perfectly well the System cannot live comfortably without your influence and guiding hand.”

The Amazon hesitated over saying something, then glanced up as the bell attached to the front door’s photo-electric circuit oper­ated. On a screen over the bell appeared the face of Chris Wilson, head of the Dodd Space Line, and husband of the Amazon’s foster sister.

“Come in, Chris,” the Amazon said, getting to her feet—and the impact of her voice waves released the front door’s complicated lock. Chris Wilson entered the lounge, then hesitated in some alarm, as he saw the mighty Jovian.

“Nothing to be afraid of, Chris,” the Amazon said, with a tired smile. “This is Relka of Jupiter—a trusted friend. Relka—Chris Wilson.”

“Greetings, Earthman,” responded Relka’s thoughts, and picking up courage, Chris Wilson came forward. He was a plump, grey-headed man of mid­dle age, neatly dressed, carrying a bulging briefcase.

“I’ve tried three times to contact you, Vi,” he said, “and assumed you were away in space somewhere. I need your signature to one or two documents.”

“Concerning what?” The Amazon looked impatient.

“Well, you are still a director of the Dodd Space Line, or had you forgotten?”

“Sorry,” the Amazon apologized. “I’m not quite myself.”

“I’ll go back to the lab,” Relka said. “You will wish to talk in private.”

He departed and Chris gave the Ama­zon a puzzled glance as he put his briefcase on the table. She was pacing slowly up and down, pushing an amber-tinted hand through her thick mass of golden hair.

“What’s the matter, Vi? It would sound ridiculous if I asked if you are well. You’re never anything else.”

She glanced at him abstractedly, then without speaking, signed the documents he spread out for her. This done, she raised her unfathomable eyes to look at him.

“Chris, I think Sefner Quorne is at work,” she said, and his face clouded.

“There has always been that possibility, of course. You saw him disappear on Saturn, but never found out any more.”

“Things are happening to me,” the Amazon continued. “Things that could not happen in the ordinary way because my will and body are normally so strong. I think Quorne is at work with long-distance hypnosis. For a year I have not been complete mistress of myself. I am lazy, have little interest in science, and keep going off in long spells of meditation. Everything culminated this morning when I collapsed. For four hours I was mentally in chains.”

Chris Wilson’s eyes searched the Amazon’s perfect features.

“And what happened during that period? Can you remember?”

“I saw the amethyst city of Saturn, and Abna. I was with him in that city. I spent what I might call the most phy­sically satisfying time of my life there.”

“But I thought you said Quorne was back of everything.”

“I believe he is. By long-range hypnosis he could suggest anything. He would naturally not give any hint of himself being present, so he used as bait the one person whom I would go to the ends of the universe to see again—Abna. Since Abna is dead, it can only be Quorne who produced that illusion. The reason is plain. He is on Saturn and is trying to lure me there. My reasoning is that for over a year he has been trying to pin me down mentally, and now he has succeeded. He is throwing out a bait, knowing he can never come to Earth and deal with me because I’d be too quick for him.”

Chris reflected for a while. “Well, you know more about these things than I do. I suppose it is possible—but I thought Saturn was a planet of hurricanes, gaseous mud, and death. And I also thought the amethyst city, from what you told me earlier, was an illusion.”

“Possibly so, but Quorne knows I saw it on my first trip to Saturn when I was chasing him, and he knows how anything unusual excites my curiosity. He might even have transported hypnotic projectors from Jupiter and be using them on Saturn. Whatever the answer, I am satisfied it is a bait.”

“I suppose you’re right. It—it couldn’t be Abna himself, could it?”

The Amazon shook her head. “I have accepted the unalterable fact that he is dead, Chris. No, it’s Quorne—and I feel I should accept this challenge, even though I am convinced it is a trick.”

“That sounds like taking needless risks, Vi, and I never knew you to do that.”

“I have to take it because Quorne has got to be destroyed. No world is safe as long as he lives. I don’t know where he is—so I fancy that if I go to Saturn he’ll make sure I find him because he’ll try to destroy me. It’s worth that risk to try to destroy him.”

Chris smiled a little and patted the Amazon’s steel-strong arm.

“I learned long ago not to waste time arguing with you, Vi, so it’s up to you,” he said. “All I can do is wish you good luck.”

With that he turned away and left the lounge. The front door opened automatically for him and closed again. The Amazon stood thinking for a while, her eyes bright at the thought of action again. Nothing was more calculated to bring her to virile life than a challenge.

A faint sound behind her made her turn suddenly. She frowned, not observing anything different in the lounge. Then she saw that something had been added to the big polished table in the room’s centre. It caught the incoming sunlight and reflected a myriad entranc­ing colours. Puzzled, she gazed down in wonder at a superbly wrought casket. But how it had got there was a mystery.

Picking it up, she turned it over and over in her hands, searching for the lock. She found it presently, a diamond stud inset into the basket’s metal. The stud clicked under pressure, the lid flew up—then from the casket’s interior there sprang something utterly incredible.

The Amazon jumped back as an object like a small snake fell to the carpet. She watched it in amazement. It was growing with tremendous rapidity, both in length and breadth. In perhaps a dozen seconds it was six feet long and six inches wide. There did not seem to be any distinct type of head, only a flattish extension of the main length with two vicious eyes, lidless and hypnotic.

The Amazon moved warily, and moving was the very thing she ought not to have done. With bewildering speed the serpent flew at her, its coils lashing about her, pinning her arms to her sides. Immediately the coils began to tighten with a force such as she had never known. She began struggling frantically, realizing that here was something of demoniac strength. With every ounce of her strength she tried to force her arms away from her body and so tear free of that strangling grip, but even her supernormal muscles were useless. The thing went on tightening relentlessly, tiny needle-like suckers biting into her flesh. Close to her face the mouthless head with the boring eyes waved fantastically.

Gasping for breath, the Amazon reeled helplessly against the big table, then battered herself upon its edge in the hope that the blows would dislodge the reptile. It had not the slightest effect. It seemed to be steel-hard, and it went on still constricting. The Amazon lurched, her arms feeling as though they were being telescoped into her body, her lungs no longer able to function. She tried to shout, and had not the breath to do it. Choking, she toppled to the floor and made a last frantic effort to tear herself free. And again she failed. The coils felt like white-hot wire slowly cutting her on two. She lashed out with her feet and knocked over a tall ornamental stand; then she could do no more.

Her last effort brought Relka from the adjoining laboratory to investigate. He looked about him, then caught sight of the Amazon half unconscious on the floor, her face and neck purple, her tongue protruding. She gave a quick, anguished movement of her glazing eyes toward the hideous thing that was breaking her in two—then the Jovian hurled himself forward.

Seizing the tail and head of the reptile, he extended his mighty arms with every vestige of his vast strength. And very slowly the inexorable coils had to loosen—until at last with a sudden jerk he had whirled the reptile free. Immediately he battered it with blinding force against the wall. When it had fallen to the floor he lifted the big oak table, swung it high over his head, then crashed it down on the squirming thing threshing on the carpet. It vanished under the ruined table. A small length of tail protruded. It quivered, then ceased moving.

Struggling for breath, her clothing ripped, her flesh feeling as if white-hot wire had been wrapped about it, the dishevelled Amazon struggled to her feet. For several seconds she could not speak. She motioned to Relka and he raised the remains of the table and tossed them aside. The snake was dead, apparently, part of it crushed.

“Where in cosmos did it come from?” The Amazon stared at it. “It was sent to me in that magnificent casket lying on the floor over there. It was on the table.”

Relka reached down his scaly paw and picked up the reptile by the tail. He contemplated it, then his thoughts reached the Amazon as she rubbed her aching arms gently.

“This is an estiron, Amazon,” he explained. “One of the most terrible ser­pents known to my world. It kills by sheer constrictive power. It doesn’t live by atmosphere—otherwise this air of Earth would have killed it. It absorbs energy, stores it, and uses it as needed. It has the quality of evolving from birth to maturity at tremendous speed.”

“So I noticed.” The Amazon was still breathing hard. “It was no larger than a worm when it fell out of the casket: the next thing I knew it had flown at me.”

“It attacks all living things and tries to absorb their energy.”

The Amazon turned in disgust from the dead reptile and picked up the fallen casket from the floor. With it in her hands she went to the window and studied its exquisite workmanship.

“Would you say this came from your world too?” she asked Relka.

“Possibly. Certainly the snake did. This was a deliberate attempt to kill you, Amazon, and had I not been close at hand it would have succeeded. It begins to look as though your theory about Sefner Quorne is not so far wrong. He must have sent that snake. But how did it get here?”

“It suddenly appeared—which suggests four-dimensional transit, in which Quorne is a master. As you say, it was an attempt to kill me, and only Quorne could be at the back of it.” The Ama­zon frowned. “The only thing I do not understand is why he should try to bait me with hypnotic dreams on the one hand, and on the other try to kill me with a serpent. The two are dif­ficult to reconcile.”

“Possibly he believes you are not falling for his hypnotic bait, and so is trying to kill you by other means.”

“Possibly,” the Amazon admitted. “And he is either working from Jupiter with all the resources of the city which lies buried there under a broken dome, or else he is operating from Saturn, having had materials taken there. It would seem, though, since that thing is a Jovian snake, that he may be on the giant planet—which means I’m changing my plans. I am going to Jupiter first. If Quorne is not there, I shall go on to Saturn. He will find me only too ready to accept this challenge.”

She put down the casket on the window ledge and started attending to the minor injuries the reptile had inflicted.

“I hope I may come with you, Amazon?” Relka asked, and she looked back over her shoulder as she reached the doorway.

“Of course. I cannot imagine myself without you, much less so on the world from which you came.”