Triangle of Power. John Russell Fearn

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the Amazon murmured, and gazed outside.

      The endless stars were flung into infinity like diamonds on velvet. They were depthless, fantastically glittering, immeasurable. The sun blazed with his flaming girdle of prominences and eerie, space-flung corona; the moon sailed majestically, basking in her master’s light. Venus, Mars, Mercury—and more distant, the orbits of the giant outer planets and their scatterings of attendant moons. And beyond it all, like a great misty sluice pouring out of infinity, hung the Milky Way Galaxy, the swirling core from which Earth herself had been born in forgotten time.

      Abna said: “You said something about going to the end of the System for the honeymoon, Vi. Think we’ve got enough power to do it?”

      “Had I not thought that, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”

      Abna frowned slightly. “What kind of an answer is that for your husband? I only asked a simple question. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

      “Sorry, Abna.” The Amazon gave a faint smile. “I hadn’t quite realized—I’m inclined to get brusque when I’m thinking about something.”

      Withdrawing from the gentle grip Abna had on her shoulder, she settled at the control board and began the complicated task of plotting the course through space. Abna watched her for a while, then he looked puzzled.

      “Taking a chance, aren’t you?” he asked. “Pulling in so close to Jupiter, I mean? You know what kind of a gravitational pull he’s got; if we drop into it we’ll consume nearly all our power trying to get out.”

      “It won’t be the first time we’ve pulled away from Jupiter,” the Amazon smiled. “Besides, our honeymoon would hardly be complete if we didn’t pass close to the planet from which you came, would it?”

      “But that’s all over and done with, Vi. My own race and land are finished. You know that.”

      “Because the protective dome was smashed and allowed the poisonous air of Jove to sweep in and asphyxiate all your fellows—with the one exception of Sefner Quorne? That doesn’t mean that all the machines are not still use­ful, does it? Jove—the mighty city which dwelt under the dome, and of which you were king—could be revived, Abna. It would be a tremendous addition to the forces of science with which we intend in time to ring the Solar System.”

      “Yes, it’s a good suggestion,” he agreed, “but doesn’t it turn our honeymoon into a working tour? I thought we were going to abandon all our scientific notions for awhile and behave like a natural man and woman?”

      “We are not natural,” the Amazon said. “You and I are akin to god and goddess, Abna. Giant and giantess, in strength and knowledge. We can never be ordinary people.”

      “Do you regret it?” he asked, his hand returning to her slender shoulder; and she shook her blonde head.

      “Not now. I did once. I used to think I would like to be on a par with Ethel, my foster-niece; or Bee, my foster-sister. Just a woman, with perhaps children of my own. Then I realized how different life can be when there is all the universe before one—when there are still unexplored worlds to conquer and rule. I had a plan once—the conquest of the whole solar system and its control by Earth with me at the head. I still have that dream.”

      “With me to help you now?”

      “Of course.”

      For a moment Abna met the girl’s wide violet eyes. They were darkly unfathomable as usual, masked by their big curling lashes. Her beauty fascinated him. But her manner he could not understand. It was as though the ceremony in the Abbey had counted for nothing. She was still the quiet, coldly calculating woman with whom he had fought a battle of wits before chance had put all the aces in his hand and, rather than be beaten, she had agreed to marry him.

      “We’ve a long way to go before we’re anywhere near Jupiter,” she said at length. “Might as well have a meal and then relax. You fix it up while I make sure our course is correct.”

      Abna nodded and left the control room, heading for the big storage compartment where the essences and restoratives were kept. The Amazon watched him go and a thin, cold smile curved her lips. She continued with her course-checking un­til Abna announced that the meal was ready. With a nod she rose and went to the dining area. Her walk was steady, and the fixtures remained in place. Though the Ultra was hurtling at terrific velocity through free space, the gravity-nullifiers in the floor kept the weight down to earth-normal.

      “I don’t quite understand your attitude, Vi,” Abna said, as he handed over the compressed food concentrates.

      “No? You have the chance to read my thoughts, even as I can read your thoughts. There shouldn’t be any mystery between us.”

      “Shouldn’t be, but there is. As for your thoughts, they are completely sealed. You’ve learned the art of mask­ing them.”

      The Amazon smiled inscrutably. “Sometimes it’s necessary, Abna. Marriage does not mean being bought body and soul: there are some things I like to keep to myself. Don’t forget there are quite a few scientific secrets I have which you have not—and vice versa.”

      “But surely the very purpose of our marriage was to pool those ideas?”

      “Later, perhaps....” And the Amazon withdrew into her own mysterious per­sonality and said no more.

      Abna was a man in every sense ­of the word: the woman he had wed was a woman in form only. In all the time he had known her, though he fancied he had analyzed her nature and thoughts completely, he had failed—as all men had—in penetrat­ing the armour with which she had sur­rounded herself. The Golden Amazon’s body and mind were infinities apart.

      “Do you suppose,” Abna asked, “that Earth will be safe while we’re away?”

      “Why shouldn’t it be?” The Amazon finished her meal and sat back to regard him.

      “I’m thinking of Sefner Quorne. You remember he sent you a letter saying he’d do all manner of things. If he does act, we’ll be up against it, Vi. His science is far ahead of yours and mine combined. And don’t forget you can’t trace him, either. Now he has altered his bodily energy content, you can’t put an aura-compass on him.”

      The Amazon frowned in annoyance. The aura-compass, that infallible instrument of her own design, had the power of pointing to any given person if the aura—the electrical energy—of that person were known. Until Quorne had come into the scene the aura of every living thing had been changeless: he, however, had accomplished the miracle of altering his energy, and, the new aura number being unknown, he was virtually undetectable. It was not a happy thought for the Amazon. Sefner Quorne might be anywhere, waiting to implement his threat.

      “All I can say is, Earthlings must take care of themselves for a change, Abna.”

      She became silent again, as though waiting for something. Abna rubbed a hand drowsily over his forehead.

      “I feel uncommonly tired,” he said, puzzled. “A thing I’ve never experienced before. Sure the air’s all right in here?”

      “Far as I know.”

      He got up unsteadily, rubbed his fore­head again, then went to the air-con­ditioning apparatus. The gauges

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