To see with the naked eye where they were going was impossible: the infra-screens did it instead. Piercing the night they reflected on to an area in front of the control panel a complete relief map of ice-bound, snow-covered London in the grip of its unnatural Arctic night. There were the deserted streets, dark ghostly buildings, and amidst them all, the bulk around Charing Cross which marked the entrance to the main underground shelter.
There may be trouble when we land,” she said, glancing up at Abna as he stood beside her. “Not from the people but from the law officials. They probably know that I am still alive and, if so, they’ll have orders to arrest me. We’ll deal with that when we come to it.”
Abna nodded. Going over to the storage locker, he opened it and brought forth fur suits. In the few minutes that remained before landing, while the automatic pilot could still be used, he and the Amazon donned them — then once more back at the controls, the girl brought the massive vessel down in the deserted Strand, locked the switchboard by means of a combination lever, and then hurried to the airlock.
Once outside, with small flashlights, she and Abna found themselves battling with a screaming wind and blinding snow. They floundered across the empty space which was Charing Cross and eventually gained the entrance of the station which had become the exterior section of London’s chief shelter.
The big metal doors of the place were closed, white barriers in the snow. Raising her gloved hands, the Amazon pounded heavily, and Abna did likewise. Finally a slide moved up at eye level, a slide with a two-inch thick glass. A face was visible beyond and a voice spoke by loudspeaker system.
“Who is it? Identify yourselves.”
“Refugees,” the Amazon answered. “For heaven’s sake let us in!”
“Names?” the guard insisted. “I must have your names and check them with the index—”
The Amazon reflected swiftly, trying to think of two names which would do the trick. Abna, however, acted otherwise. Raising his huge gloved hand he drove it suddenly with shattering power into the glass panel. The blow went through the two-inch thickness, showering glass on the astounded guard. He was even more astounded when the gloved hand seized him by the throat and fingers tightened with terrifying power.
“Open the door!”Abna commanded. “And do it now!”
The guard struggled and writhed, but the more he did so the more the gloved hand tightened remorselessly on his windpipe. At last, gasping, he pulled an automatic switch and the twin doors rumbled slowly apart. Immediately Abna released his hold and he and the Amazon darted into the vast interior of what had once been a railroad station.
Now the entire area was brightly lighted, the space taken up by the hundreds of clerks and similar workers who had to deal with the shelter’s inmates. In the distance, the stairs which had led to the underground railway had been altered in design and over the top of each were directions concerning to which shelter each stairway led.
“What about your names?” the guard insisted. “I must have them!”
“You can have mine, anyway,” the Amazon replied curtly, tossing aside her hood and face mask. “Or is that necessary?”
The guard stared at her cynical face, the glint in her violet eyes, the tumbled masses of her golden hair.
“The—the Amazon I didn’t—”
Suddenly his hand flashed down to the weapon he was carrying but before he had completed the action Abna slammed out his left fist. It lifted the guard straight off his feet, and he dropped on his face and stayed there.
The Amazon said: “I thought it would be known that I had returned.” Her hand whipped inside her fur suit and yanked a proton gun from her belt. She levelled it at the clerical staff as she advanced toward it.
“I’m not here just for the fun of it or to pass the night,” she stated. “Whereabouts is the shelter which has fallen in and buried Miss Wilson? Hurry up, somebody — answer!”
“Th-there,” one of the girl clerks stammered, pointing to the central stairway which had been converted. “And Miss Brant—” she ventured as the Amazon swung away.
“Well?” The Amazon looked back over her shoulder, Abna beside her, lowering his face mask.
“I’d like you to know that we don’t all feel against you — like that guard. We’d like you back, especially at a time like this—”
“Save it till later,” the Amazon interrupted.
She motioned Abna and together they hurried to the opening of the one-time stairway the girl had indicated. Part of it indeed still was a staircase of the escalator type. It bore the two down into the brightly lighted underworld. When they had descended 500 feet down a shaft lined with gleaming metal they came upon the underworld refuge they were seeking,
From end to end it was packed with men, women and children. Some were on the move with their belongings; others were sitting brooding — and to the left, a group was busy with electric drills. The Amazon hurried toward them, and the people, recognizing her, fell back a little at her approach.
“Is this where the collapse is?” she demanded of the engineer in charge.
The engineer’s face lighted at the sight of his questioner.
“Then it was true!” he ejaculated. “You’re still alive, Miss Brant! Thank heaven for that!”
“Obviously I’m alive,” she said irritably. “Answer my question.”
“Yes, this is where we’re trying to get through,” the engineer agreed. “It’s a bad fall — Look for yourself.”
The Amazon was already looking. Where there should have been another shaft leading to lower caverns there was instead a large area of crushed metal plates, twisted stanchions, and crumbled rock. The whole shaft at this point had apparently gone rotten and caved in.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Simply folded up,” the engineer shrugged. “The folks in the lower cavern were buried. The moving staircase was smashed to bits as well; you can see parts of it there sticking up. Some of the people survived but quite a few are hurt. We’re in touch by radio and in another hour we ought to have got to them—”
“We’ll help,” the Amazon said quickly, stepping out of her furs. “You, too, Abna.”
“Willingly,’’Abna agreed, and flung his fur suit aside.
Chapter XIII
The engineer and his fellow technicians stared in wonder for a moment at the mightily muscled stranger; then pressure of events forced them to work again, But this time it was the Amazon who gave the directions, not the chief engineer — and he was content to relinquish himself to her greater knowledge.
Whirring and grinding, the atomic drills bit gradually through the débris while the men and the Amazon hurled aside the heavy material which the multiple excavators could not easily grasp.
So, within forty minutes a passage through the rock and rubble had been bored. The Amazon was the first to squeeze down through the narrow space and drop into the cavern below. Here she found about 100 people. The metal walls sagged dangerously around them, the only light they possessed coming from the batteries with which they had been operating their radio.
The Amazon glanced over the assembly swiftly, then her gaze moved to those who were lying flat, their relatives or friends kneeling beside them.
“Chris!” the Amazon exclaimed suddenly, and hurried over to the dirt-streaked man kneeling beside Ethel. Ethel herself, motionless, her face blood-smeared, was muttering incoherently.
“She’s dying, Vi,” Chris whispered. He was too stunned by the events to ask any questions of her reason for being present. “She got crushed in the rocks. Can’t last much longer.”
The Amazon glanced about her. Chris interpreted the action.
“My wife is in one of the other caverns,” he said. “Quite safe so far.”
The Amazon got up from her knees as Abna and the engineers, followed by others from the upper cavern, came down into view.
“Listen, you people,” she said, raising her voice. “You can think of me as you like, but it is
an undeniable fact that many of you may yet die if you don’t follow me from here on and ignore whatever other orders you may have been given. These shelters are rotten! They have got to be rebuilt before it’s too late. How many of you are prepared to throw Torrington’s lying propaganda overboard and follow me?” “All of us!” a man yelled. “We never did believe that bigmouthed money-bags anyway!”
“All right, then. Here are your first orders. Get everybody possible up to the higher cavern and there stop for the time being. Issue radio instructions for all those in deep caverns to come as near the surface as possible. Now give me a hand to get the injured out of here. I’ll deal with Miss Wilson; you folks look after the others.”
The Amazon returned to Ethel’s side and caught at the girl’s hand. For a moment Ethel’s incoherency seemed to leave her and she gazed into the steady violet eyes dully.
“Hello — Aunt Vi,” she whispered. “It’s nice to know you’re around again. Nobody but you can get things straight. I’m finished, Aunt...”
The Amazon pulled down the overcoat which Chris had thrown over the girl’s legs. She wondered how Ethel came to be alive at all, so mercilessly had the rocks crushed her legs and body.
“May I look?” asked Abna quietly.
The Amazon glanced up. Ethel opened her eyes again at the new voice. For a second or two wonder overcame her agony.
“What — what a man!” she breathed. “If only—” She broke off, her face contorted with pain.
“Is this business beyond you, Miss Brant?” Abna murmured in the Amazon’s ear.
“I’m afraid it is. If only I had surgical instruments handy I could save her. It can’t be done otherwise. She can’t live long.”
“I have seen and cured worse than this.”
The Amazon stared, and so did Chris.
“Whatever you can do, Abna, do,” the Amazon urged. “She means a lot to me — more than I can explain. As if she were my own daughter.”
Abna nodded; then suddenly a queer change of expression came over him as he gazed at Ethel. A look of tremendous intentness came on his handsome features, while his reddish-blue eyes became fixed and unblinking. He raised Ethel’s slim shoulders and forced her to look at him.
“Don’t speak, Miss Wilson,” he said gently. “Just look at me, that’s all.” .
Ethel obeyed, and motionless, the Amazon, Chris, and the others still in the cavern watched. As far as they could tell, something like a miracle was being enacted before their very eyes — for, gradually, as Ethel remained rigid, her eyes staring into Abna’s, her crushed legs began to heal and fill out. The flow of blood ceased. Smooth skin appeared. Like a slow transformation in a movie she gradually became her normal figure again, was as unhurt as though she had never been touched.
“There,” Abna murmured finally, smiling and lowering his hands. “That feel better, young lady?”
Ethel blinked, passed a hand over her forehead, and then looked down at herself.
“In heaven’s name what did you do?” she gasped. “Who are you? A healer or something?”
“Not in the sense that you mean it,” Abna responded. “I am a scientist, the same as Miss Brant, but my science is of another order. We of my planet—which you call Jupiter— believe that any material thing is grosser than the mental state, therefore the mental power can force the material to obey it. That was what happened. By mind force I made you see yourself as you were before your accident. Your physical frame was compelled to yield to your mental outlook and ... Well, you are as sound as ever.”
Ethel got slowly on to her feet, her jaw sagging. “It’s — it’s much too deep for me,” she confessed, staring up at her deliverer.
“Then just forget it,” he suggested. “I’m glad I was able to help you.”
“You expect us to forget such a thing!” Chris exclaimed, gripping Abna’s hand in gratitude. “You have a queer idea of our mentality on this world, Abna!”
“I have a great respect for it. Most of it, anyway,” Abna responded.
“I just can’t begin to say anything,” Ethel muttered, her eyes fixed on the giant in girlish fascination. “My father did tell me about you, Mr. Abna — what kind of a wonder-man you are, but I never expected anybody like you!”
“We’re wasting time,” the Amazon said abruptly. “Abna, you are better able to deal with these injured people than I am, so I’m going to get busy with other matters. Since I am taking control it means that Torrington and his money grabbers have no place in the scheme of things. I’ll be back,” she added, and turned away.
In a few minutes she had clambered out of the lower cavern, pushing her way through the people. After a while she gained the side of the chief engineer who, with his men, was still labouring to make the shaft wider.
“Where can I find Torrington?” she asked.
“He has his headquarters over there.” The engineer nodded across the great space to a remote door.
“Trust him to choose a place where no subsidence can affect him,” the Amazon murmured, her eyes gleaming. “All right — thanks. And henceforth you’re taking your orders from me.”
“Suits me,” the engineer agreed.
Chapter XIV
The Amazon made her way swiftly through the throngs of people, reached the door in the metal wall inscribed “Headquarters—Strictly Private, and hammered forcibly on it. After a brief while it opened and an official in uniform appeared.
“Well?” he snapped, his hand on his gun — then he suddenly realized whom he was addressing.
“Don’t waste your time doing that,” the Amazon warned, whipping her own gun from her belt. “Take me to Torrington.”
He nodded and closed the door. The Amazon followed him across an expansive, comfortably furnished area. Torrington and his cohorts had certainly taken care that they would endure no hardships.
At one of the many doors lining the walls the guard stopped and knocked timidly. There was no response.
“Here, let me do it!” the Amazon ripped the guard’s gun from his belt, threw it away, and then gave him a shove which sent him sprawling. Turning to the door, she hammered violently upon it, still received no answer, and so turned her proton gun on it. There was a transient blinding flame and the dispersal of acrid fumes. A kick sent the door swinging inward, and the Amazon stood on the threshold, staring into gloom.
She stepped quickly into the dark and to one side, preventing herself being a silhouette against the light of the adjoining room. Almost at the identical moment a gun blazed out of the dark and the bullet whanged close to her face.
“Evidently you were expecting me, Torrington,” she commented.
Her eyes, accustomed by now to the abrupt change, had the gift of seeing in the dark. She could descry the dim outline of a figure crouched behind a big chair, the light catching his gun. He was peering blindly into the gloom, apparently trying to take aim.
Swiftly as a tigress the Amazon crossed the room, whirled the chair to one side, and was upon the startled tycoon before he realized what had happened. Now in the dim reflected light from the chamber beyond he could see the girl’s merciless face. A steel grip on his wrist flung the revolver from his hand; a blow in the jaw knocked him reeling. With a heavy impact he crashed back against the wall.
The Amazon returned to the door, shut it as best she could with its broken lock, and then snapped on the light. Smiling coldly, she gazed at the metals king as he crouched by the far wall, his hair dishevelled, terror in his eyes.
“Just what are you planning to do, Amazon? I know you think that I was responsible for you being fired into space— but it was the wish of the people and the edict of the court.”
The Amazon began to move forward slowly. “There is no place for you in my plans, nor for those avaricious apes who have helped you. I mean Arnside and Swainson. I warned you that one day I’d take care of you all — and that is what I mean to do. Now get Arnside and Swainson.”
“I don’t know where they ar
e!” Torrington objected. “Don’t lie! Find them!”
“That shouldn’t be difficult,” a voice commented quietly, right behind the Amazon. “And drop that gun, Miss Brant!” Something hard dug in her back. She dropped her weapon, raised her hands, and turned, Morris Arnside and Swainson were considering her, both of them with revolvers. They had evidently crept in from the outer room and entered soundlessly.
“Now,” Arnside commented, “what did you want with us, Miss Brant? Or is it more to the point what we want with you? From what I can gather, you have decided to upset the Triumvirate, which is the government of we three men until the solar crisis has passed.”
A surprised look crossed the Amazon’s face. “So that’s it!” she ejaculated. “You are fools enough to think that one day the sun will recover and you will be able to spend your blood money? I wondered why you were so anxious to make your fortunes out of a catastrophe.”
“Certainly the sun will recover,” Torrington stated. “I am convinced of it — and without help from you. In fact I don’t think you’ll be around to see that recovery or any other.” He motioned. “Arnside, there’s some strong sash cord over there in that cupboard. Get it and tie her up. We can get rid of her through the shaft trap in the next room.”
Arnside nodded and turned away, leaving only Swainson with his levelled gun, and the Amazon made a tremendous leap and flattened Swainson to the floor.
Arnside twirled, his gun in his hand, but in a flying tackle the Amazon had reached him, her arms locked around his leg. He crashed over, half rose, then sagged again before a blow in the face which smashed his nose.
“This sort of horseplay won’t do you much good,” Torrington panted, his own gun now recovered and ready in his hand. “Get up, Amazon, and stand over there!”
She obeyed, but with one hand she dragged up Arnside’s limp body with her, holding him by the jacket collar. In so doing she covered herself against Torrington’s gun. He twisted to one side to aim again, but did not have the opportunity. Suddenly Arnside’s flailing body hurled through the air, cannoned into the metals king, and knocked him sprawling. Winded and dazed, he flung Arnside’s body away from him, only to find another one pinning him. A black-clad knee was jammed in his chest and fingers with the grip of steel pliers sank deep into his fleshy neck.
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