The Golden Amazon by Thornton Ayre

Book Details

Four novelettes of Violet Ray who as an infant was spaceship-wrecked on Venus and was raised by Venusians. She develops a phenomenal strength that avails her when she fights evildoers around the spaceways and becomes known as The Golden Amazon.

The Golden Amazon (1939) – Violet Ray, mystery woman of space, comes to Earth on a mission of destruction, and Chris Wilson follows into the void, seeking revenge
Chapter I – Mutiny—2040 A.D.
Chapter II – Twenty Years After
Chapter III – Pursuit to Venus
Chapter IV – True Colors

The Amazon Fights Again (1940) – Chris Wilson and the Golden Amazon found themselves in serious trouble on Venus when Vi’s supernatural strength suddenly deserted her
Chapter I
Chapter II – Doublecrossed
Chapter III – The Mighty Fallen
Chapter IV – The Master Mind

The Golden Amazon Returns (1941) – The best weapons against the Amazon were her own children, reasoned Welgand, so he kidnapped them — and led her into a trap!
Chapter I
Chapter II – Solar Vengeance
Chapter III – Desperate Straits
Chapter IV – Settling of Accounts

Children of the Golden Amazon (1943) – The Golden Amazon and her two children were seeking the secret of life, and in an amazing scientific cavern they found it— but others sought the secret, too….
Chapter I
Chapter II – Grim Surprise
Chapter III – Master of Zombies
Chapter IV – Problems Solved

John Russell Fearn (1908–1960) was a British author and one of the first British writers to appear in American pulp science fiction magazines. A prolific author, he published his novels under various pseudonyms such as Thornton Ayre, Polton Cross, and Vargo Stratten.

The Golden Amazon has 9 illustrations.

Files:

1. GoldenAmazon.epub

Excerpt: The Golden Amazon

Chapter I

Mutiny—2040 A.D.

COMMANDER BEDSON stood in the control room of the Earth-Mars space liner with his technicians beside him. “Red Tanner again, eh?” he asked the chief engineer grimly.

“Yessir. He’s making trouble in the rocket rooms and he’s got the men right with him. You know his line—better wages and conditions for the rocket men.”

“Better wages!” Bedson exclaimed in exasperation. “My God, does the fool think I run the damned service? We all want better wages—but when a service is only at the beginning it can’t pay much. We are just the pioneers, so we’ve got to put up with it . . .”

“Trouble is, trying to pacify him,” the chief engineer muttered.

“You’ve got to pacify him, Mr. Dutton!” the Commander snapped. “We can’t afford to have trouble below. We’ve passengers to think of, and that special supply of Saturnian bacteria for analysis by the Martian laboratories. With cargo like that aboard-—” Bedson broke off and took a deep breath, stared through the port with his hawkish eyes. “Besides, right now we’re dangerously close to the Venusian gravity-field. The slightest error in power might wreck the ship. Get below, Mr. Dutton, and keep strict order at all costs.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

The engineer turned to the door, then he paused as it flew open under the force of a mighty kick. Red Tanner, the source of all the trouble, stood on the threshold, a flat metal flask clutched in his hand.

“Drinking again, eh?” Dutton breathed. “Now I get it! No wonder you’re all burned up! Put that damned elephant-juice away, Red, and get back to work—”

“Aw, shut up!” Tanner broke in sourly. He levered his vast bulk into the control room and stood among the officers, swaying on his feet. In size he was colossal—a six-foot-six giant of a man, nearly naked, covered in the soot of rocket exhaust, sweating, damp hair trailing down his powerful, ugly face.

“Listen, you . . . !” He faced Commander Bedson and eyed him narrowly. “I want my rights, like the rest of the guys below. They’re all with me—hundred percent. See? We’re about through with struggling down there in heat and light gravity for a schoolkid’s money! I’ve got a wife and baby daughter to keep at home. How the hell am I expected to do it on the wages I get?”

“You knew the rate of pay when you took on,” Bedson snapped. “Back to work! Else you’ll go back to prison where you came from!”

“Not on your life!” Red growled, flinging his flask in the corner of the cabin. “I want results from you —and the lily-white higher ups who’re making all the sugar out of this racket. What do we get? Just plain nothin’, and food that ain’t fit for a Martian desert lizard . . . We drink— Yeah, we drink, to get some sweat under our rotten hides so we can go on working—for the likes o’ you! But it’s goin’ to end! And it’s goin’ to end now. See?”

Commander Bedson stood with his feet apart and his hands behind him, eyeing Red Tanner gravely.

“Red, either you get below or I’ll have you clapped in irons. You’ve one more chance— Get moving!”

“All I want are results!” Red breathed, his gray eyes gleaming. “I want you to sign a statement saying the conditions are rotten for us; I want you to try and get us better pay—”

“I can’t do it. That’s for the Board to decide.”

“You mean you won’t!” Red bellowed suddenly. “You’re too afraid of your own job, that’s why! By God, give me one chance to get even with the higher-ups! One chance is all I ask— And I’m making a start right now!”

He swung to the doorway again. “O. K., boys!” he roared. “Come and get it!”

He twisted back again into the control room, slammed out his mighty fist with terrific power. It caught the Commander under the jaw and sent him flying into unconsciousness before he had the chance to realize what had happened.

In dazed horror Engineer Dutton suddenly knew what had occurred. The rest of the men must have followed Red up from the rocket-rooms, had waited the outcome of the meeting before striking. And now —? Down there in the nerve-center of the ship there was nobody in control, nobody to fire the blasts against Venus’ decisive tuggings.

“Wait!” Dutton screamed. “Wait, you fools! It means death for the lot of us if—”

He went down with a blinding light before his eyes. Red stood over him, separated from the rest of the battle for a moment.

“Hell, but I wish you were that dirty rotten skunk of a brother of mine—” he whispered. “How I’d like to sock him like I socked you!”

He swung, fists clenched again, as an officer charged for him. Wild pandemonium descended on the control room— The noise of it spread through the entire mass of the great vessel.”

IN the dining room the Venusian pull was evident.

The ship was tilted sideways, hurling crockery, tables and people to one side with earthquake effectiveness. Mirrors splintered, women screamed, the pianist died at the grand piano as it slammed into his stomach.

Richard Ray jumped up shaking scalding soup from his trousers; then he clutched his frightened wife, Joyce, to safety in the nick of time as an electrolier came hurtling down in a thousand razor-edged shards.

“A wreck!” screamed a voice. “We’re falling toward Venus!”

“Man the escape ships!”

“The baby!” Joyce cried in sudden horror. Then with her husband beside her she turned and blundered with mad desperation through a darkened confusion of people that was smeared with starlight, Venuslight, and spurts of flame as electric wires fused against wooden paneling.

Somehow the two staggered up the jammed staircase to their cabin, snatched up the precious bundle from its cot and raced outside again. They clung to each other, fighting through the panic-stricken mob, jostled, and scratched, until suddenly they stopped in a dazzling flood of blinding spotlight.

An officer was visible, ray pistol in hand, standing at the airlock of a safety vessel.

“Women and children first!” he bellowed. “The first man that tries to pass this doorway will be shot down. . . . Quickly, please!”

Joyce hesitated for a moment, then she found herself pushed forward by Dick. She caught a glimpse of his tragic eyes staring after her, then he was lost in the crowd. Helplessly, her precious bundle clutched to her breast, she plunged through the airlock into the dim interior.

The rest was a mad nightmare to her. Women upon women seemed to pile on top of her. In vain the pilot cried out that there was no room. . . . He had to have space to work the rocket-tubes—

With a terrific effort Joyce did the only thing possible with the baby, raised her arms over her head and held it free of the press that hemmed her in with ever tightening force. . . . She felt the ship jolt into space at last, lost all feeling in her numb, anguished arms. From the midst of a half-faint she could hear frantic shouts.

“I must have room to control! I must have room!”

“My God, we’re falling— Falling!”

Joyce heard no more than that. Unbearable pressures beat round her heart and lungs. Darkness swamped in upon her in a vast roaring tide. . . .”

Excerpt From: Thornton Ayre. “The Golden Amazon.”