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

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something in the meantime, the whole Universe is going to be blotted out!’”

      “What!” Chris exclaimed. “Blotted out? How do you mean? Destroyed?”

      “No. That would be merciful. Something much worse. Matter will remain, but light and heat and all forms of radiation will become things of the past.”

      “I don’t understand, Vi.”

      “Come to my place right away,” she said. “I want to show you what I’ve discovered.”

      “I’ll come immediately.”

      The Amazon summoned one of her telepathic-responsive robots. It laid a meal and tidied the room. By the time Chris had arrived, he found the Amazon had changed into a sweeping gown instead of her coveralls, looking what she was—a superbly beautiful woman.

      “Sorry to drag you from your work,” she apolo­gized, as they settled down and the robot attended to the refreshment, “but as the head of the Space Line, as far as Earth is concerned, you should know the facts. I am not going to broadcast them to the world as yet. Time enough to do that if my efforts to find a way round the difficulty should fail.”

      “Fail?” Chris repeated, surprised. “I never knew you to admit such a possibility before. You, who created a sun when our own was destroyed; you who can destroy matter and build it up again—”

      “Chris, no menace or difficulty I have fought before equals this one. There exists in the depths of space—inconceiv­ably far away as yet—an ever-growing patch of non-space-time.”

      “What is that?” Chris asked. “Space is space, isn’t it, no matter how you look at it?”

      “Space is a loose term, Chris. The early scientists used to think that space was actually a medium in which radiation in all its forms could move. Without ether-of-space, as Eddington called it, there would be a total vacuum with no power to transmit radiation. It used to be thought that because of ether we see the stars by their light-waves, we feel the heat of the sun as his radiations are carried to us, and we hear radio, all because of the ether medium. Modern science subsequently showed that electromagnetic waves did not require any ether medium for their propagation. But they do require what we might call the fabric of space-time itself. Des­troy that and we are alone indeed.”

      “You mean it can be destroyed?”

      “I mean,” the Amazon answered grim­ly, “that it is being destroyed. That is the meaning of that Smudge—as I will call it—out in infinity. How it came into being I don’t know, but I do know that it is growing rapidly, expanding like an explosion, and at a speed greater than light itself. As it travels, all light and heat ceases. Stars which have been engulfed in it are giving no light or heat.”

      “Maybe they’ve been destroyed?”

      “No. The mass detectors, which oper­ate by displacement of bulk, show they are still there.”

      There was silence for a moment, and it was an uncomfortable one as far as Chris was concerned. Many a time in the past when a particular danger had threatened, he had discussed it first with the superwoman, just as he was doing now, but he had always found her confident of mastering the situation. It was a disturbing change to find her brows notched in uneasy thought and the coffee forgotten at her side.

      “It may go away as strangely as it was born,” Chris suggested, but the Amazon shook her head.

      “Things born in space do not go away like that, Chris. They grow. In the end, if space-time itself is wiped out, it will mean that all the hosts of the universe will exist in a silent, utterly cold tomb in which no light waves, no heat waves—nothing can ever move. Can you im­agine Earth like that? Absolute extinc­tion of life because it cannot see or keep warm. That is what it amounts to.”

      “How long will it take to get here—this Dark?”

      “As yet I haven’t worked it out. I can do so in thirty minutes on the computer.”

      They went into the observatory, and while the Amazon worked with the mathematical instruments Chris looked at a film recording the Amazon had made the previous night. He saw for himself the awe-inspir­ing sight of an island of night amidst the blaze of the stars.

      “Three years—maybe more,” the Amazon said finally. “It all depends whether its faster-than-light acceleration continues to increase exponentially, or whether it reaches an optimum speed and remains constant. If its present acceleration is maintained, then three years will see Earth blacked out—and to try and escape it by flying to other worlds will not do any good, since they too will succumb until all the universe is dark and dead.”

      “But Vi, a thing as gigantic as this couldn’t just happen. It upsets all known laws.”

      The Amazon was silent for a moment or two, then at length she made up her mind.

      “I’m going to take a look at that Dark at close quarters,” she said. “Teles­copically I cannot sum it up. Its dis­tance is so colossal that even though I travelled at the speed of light, I’d be several years reaching it.”

      “Then how can you reach it?”

      “I will use my dissembly trans­portation method—dissemble my body and recreate it in space near enough to the Dark to study it. My prototype apparatus was limited to the speed of light, but since then I have modified it to operate through the fourth dimension. By that means I can foreshorten space and transmit myself many times faster than light if need be.”

      Chris shrugged. “You’re talking way above my head, Vi. I shall have to leave it to you. Just let me know what you discover, and if there is anything I can do to help.…”

      “Hardly.” the Amazon said, smiling drily. “If this problem taxes even me, haw do you hope to grapple with it?”

      Chris did not respond. It was not the first time the Amazon had made him realize that compared to her, his brain was only equal to that of a new-born infant.

      CHAPTER THREE

      EVEN THE AMAZON IS BAFFLED

      After Chris had departed, the Amazon spent two hours sleep­ing and then, refreshed, she went calmly about the task of prepar­ing for her gigantic journey. She made her arrangements with the methodical precision of the true scientist. First she drew on a spacesuit, complete to the helmet—since she would resolve in the void itself at the end of her journey—and to it she fastened all the instru­ments she was likely to need. They included a brain-vibration telewriter, which, responding to her thoughts, would write down whatever notes she wished to make.

      This done, she set the dissembling equipment beam to the required distance as given on the computer, and then she threw in the time switch and stepped onto the transmission plate. Presently the moment of dissolution came and, though she was steeled to it from previous experience, it was again an exquisite anguish as every atom of her being was broken down into its energy equivalent—in­cluding the spacesuit—and hurled through hyperspace at an incredible velocity.

      During the transition the Amazon herself was as completely lost to consciousness as one under powerful anaes­thetic. The sense of returning life brought her to opening her eyes and she looked through the transparent visor of her helmet. She was suspended in empty space, just as she had calculated, so far from the nearest appreciable gravity

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