Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Amazing Stories January, February, March 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazines
They were bent upon rapine and slaughter--and what greater prize than the Queen herself?]
QUEST OF THE GOLDEN APE
By IVAR JORGENSEN and ADAM CHASE
_How could this man awaken with no past--no childhood--no recollection except of a vague world of terror from which his mother cried out for vengeance and the slaughter of his own people stood as a monument of infamy?_
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CONTENTS
CHAPTER I Mansion of Mystery II The Great Clock of Tarth III The Man in the Cavern IV John Pride's Story V Question Upon Question VI On the Plains of Ofrid VII The White God VIII The Brown Virgin IX In Custody X The Road to Nadia XI On the Ice Fields of Nadia XII Volna the Beautiful XIII The Journey of No Return XIV Land Beyond the Stars XV The Golden Ape XVI The Raging Beast XVII The Prison Without Bars
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CHAPTER I
_Mansion of Mystery_
In a secluded section of a certain eastern state which must remainnameless, one may leave the main highway and travel up a winding roadaround tortuous bends and under huge scowling trees, into woodedcountry.
Upon a certain night--the date of which must remain vague--there camea man who faced and was not turned back by a series of psychologicalbarriers along this road which made it more impregnable than a steelwall. These barriers, which had kept out a hundred years ofcuriosity-seekers until that certain night, were forged by thescientific magic of a genius on a planet far beyond the sun....
The man who boldly followed his headlights up the road was of middleage with calm, honest eyes and a firm mouth indicating bargains madein his name would be kept. He pushed on, feeling the subtle force ofthe psychological powers against him but resisting because he vaguelyunderstood them.
He left his car presently and raised his hand to touch the hardoutline of a small book he carried in his breast pocket and with thegesture his determination hardened. He set his jaw firmly, snapped onthe flashlight he had taken from the dash of his convertible and movedon up the road.
His firm, brisk steps soon brought him to its end, a great iron gate,its lock and hinges rusted tight under the patient hand of Time. Itwas high and spiked and too dangerous for climbing. But someone hadsmashed the lock with a heavy instrument and had applied force untilthe rusted hinges gave and the gate stood partially open. From thelook of the metal, this could have been done recently--even in thepast few minutes.
* * * * *
The man entered and found a flagstone pathway. He followed this for atime with the aid of his flashlight. Then he stopped and raised thebeam.
It revealed the outline of a great stone mansion, its myriad windowslike black, sightless eyes, its silent bulk telling of long solitude,its tongueless voice whispering: _Go away, stranger. Only peril andmisfortune await you here._
But I am not exactly a stranger, the man told himself, approaching thedoor and half hoping to find the scowling panel locked.
But it was not locked. The ponderous knob turned under his hand. Thepanel moved back silently. The man gripped his flashlight and steppedinside.
The knowledge that he was no longer alone came as a shock. It wasbrought to him by the sound of labored breathing and he flashed thelight about frantically trying to locate the source of the harshsound. Then the bright circle picked out a huddled form on the floornearby. The man moved forward instantly and went to his knees.
He was looking into an incredibly ancient face. The skin was so deeplylined as to hang in folds around the sunken eyes. The mouth was but atoothless maw and the body so shrunken as to seem incapable ofclinging to life. The voice was a harsh whisper.
"Thank God you have come. I am dying. The opening of the gate took allmy remaining strength."
"You have been waiting for me?"
"I have been waiting out the years--striving to keep life in my bodyuntil the moment of destiny. I wanted to see _him_. I wanted to bethere when the door to his resting place opens and he comes forth toright the terrible wrongs that have been done our people."
The strength of the ancient one was ebbing fast. The words he spokehad been an effort. The kneeling man said, "I don't understand allthis."
"That matters not. It is important only that you keep the bargain madelong ago with your sire, and that you are here. Someone must be with_him_ at the awakening."
The newcomer again touched the book in his pocket. "I came because ourword had been given--"
The dying man picked feebly at his sleeve. "Please! You must go below!The great clock has measured the years. Soon it tolls the moment. Soona thundering on the Plains of Ofrid will herald the new age--theFighting Age--and a new day will dawn."
While the visitor held his frail shoulders, the dying man gasped andsaid, "Hasten! Hurry to the vault below! Would that I could go withyou, but that is not to be."
And then the visitor realized he was holding a corpse in his arms. Helaid it gently down and did as he had been directed to do.