Daughter of the Amazon: The Golden Amazon Saga, Book Five. John Russell Fearn

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      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! I’m warning you! Sefner may be your enemy, but he’s my husband—and I still love him.”

      “Bless the girl.” Quorne murmured, smiling. “You see how much faith she has in me, Amazon? Be a shame to spoil her young dream, wouldn’t it?”

      The Amazon clenched her fists, her expression showing the mental struggle she was undergoing.

      “This situation is one we cannot discuss here,” she said. “I think it might be better to go to my home and talk it over. There is so much to be explained—”

      “This control room is every bit as private as your home, Amazon,” Quorne told her. “Viona—come inside and sit down. Tell your father the Amazon wants to clear up a few points.”

      Viona hesitated, then looked outside and called to Abna. After a moment or two he entered the control room and remained by the door, massive arms folded, a troubled look on his handsome face. Only Sefner Quorne seemed at his ease, lounging in an upholstered chair.

      “None of us know how we came back from the dimensions in which we were lost,” he said. “It happened abruptly. For myself, I was alone in the twenty-seventh matter plane, where I had been ever since that mathematical meddler, Brodix, hurled me. Then, without warning, I was on Saturn in the city of Millennia. Beside me were Abna and my wife.”

      “Correct,” Abna confirmed, catching the Amazon’s glance.

      “And the baby?” the Amazon asked. “Did it come with you? Was it born?”

      “It was not only born,” Viona answered, “but the child is now two years of age—”

      “But it isn’t two years since—”

      “Time,” Viona interrupted, “passes much more quickly in those planes. The child is alive. It came back with me to the normal world. At the mo­ment he is asleep in one of the rear cabins of this machine.”

      Quorne added: “I think it was the child who restored us to normal.”

      Already completely bewildered, the Amazon could only gaze in amazement. Quorne did not explain any further, but Abna did.

      “Something happened to the child quite suddenly,” he said. “Viona and I had made the best of life in the Twenty-Fifth Plane, finding it pretty much the same as the normal world with endless supplies of natural food, but no living beings. The child behaved quite normally for the two years following his birth, then he seemed seized with something that I can only call a fit of profound concentration. You never saw such a look on the face of a two-year-old child. Viona and I could only stare at him—and as we did so our surroundings clouded, changed position, and we were back in Millennia.”

      “And so was I,” Quorne added. “And at that moment, for the first time since my transportation from things normal, I felt satisfied with life. A strange inexplicable longing which had constantly possessed me in the other plane was gone.”

      “Brodix withheld you from complete­ness by retaining a factor in your make­up,” the Amazon told him. “The riddle is how you got it back again—how all of you came to be returned to normal. Naturally, the idea of a two-year-old child being responsible is ridiculous.”

      Quorne said: “Sefian—as we have called the child—has inherited my scien­tific tendencies and those of Viona, which she in turn inherited from you. He—”

      “On the surface,” Abna broke in, “he is a perfectly normal child. It was only on this one occasion when he behaved so strangely.”

      “I would like to see him,” the Amazon said, rising. “Or maybe you object. Viona?”

      Viona did not answer, but there was a sullen look about her mouth. The Amazon ignored it and followed Abna into one of the compartments. She moved to where the child was lying, and as Abna had said, there was nothing abnormal apparent. Sefian was a black-haired youngster with a high forehead, rudiments of a very straight nose, and cheeks with dimples.

      “Vi,” Abna said quietly, as the Amazon turned to leave again, “before you go I’d like a word.”

      “Very well.”

      Abna СКАЧАТЬ