Twin of the Amazon by John Russell Fearn

Author:John Russell Fearn [Fearn, John Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-08-18T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER VIII

Consciousness returned to the Amazon with the awareness that a white-clad arm was striking downwards towards her. Instantly she flung up her hand and stopped the arm in its plunge, jolting from the hand a long needle-pointed glass tube which splintered on the metal floor.

In a sudden surge full consciousness returned to her, and with it the knowledge that the operation had been flawlessly performed. She was again, to all intents and purposes, herself—and she was holding the wrist of the surgeon who had performed the operation. His tawny eyes were no longer blank: they were blazing with homicidal fury as he tried to wrench himself free of her grip.

It took the Amazon perhaps three seconds to grasp what had been intended. The contents of the splintered tube were bubbling and fuming on the floor, eating into the metal. Some distance away Kerrigan lay unconscious with his fallen guns near by. The Amazon’s eyes jolted from Kerrigan back to the master-surgeon; then she gave a slow, deadly smile.

“So, my friend, you were not quite quick enough?” she enquired. “The moment you emerged from the hypnosis and realized the nature of the operation you had performed you tried to destroy me, did you?”

Suddenly she strained with all her power and ripped in twain the central belt pinning her waist. Her hand tightened on the surgeon’s wrist with steady pressure—tighter and tighter still until she saw perspiration gloss his features.

“I’m not fool enough to attempt to choke you,” she said. “I’ve learned that that is useless on a Martian anatomy. I just want to hold you until I get free...”

She drew up her perfectly shaped legs with sudden convulsive efforts and the last two sets of straps broke. Immediately she slid off the table and to her feet, and though she was a good sixteen inches shorter than the seven-foot Martian, her tremendous grip on his wrist twisted him round to the position she required.

Then she released him—so suddenly that he could not understand why. He stared for a second, and a blinding light seemed to explode in his face. He hurtled backwards across the operating table and reeled into the instruments. Springing herself forward in the light gravity, the Amazon dived on him, whirled him up, and then planted a bone-smashing blow on his jaw which slammed him half-senseless into the wall.

She watched him sagging and glanced quickly about her —then her gaze settled on a distant row of corked glass acid-carboys. She looked back at the acid on the floor, still eating into the metal, which had been intended for her. That decided her.

“I like to pay in kind, my friend, if I can,” she said, and before the surgeon could grasp her intentions her steel-strong hands had whirled him off his feet.

In the lesser gravity she swung him round in a circle and then released him, watching as his flaying body landed in the midst of the glass carboys. They broke, fumed, and flowed—And she listened dispassionately to the man’s screams.

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