Tom Swift Jr - And His Space Solartron Part 10

Chow was baffled. "Well, brand my wild turkey soup, where did this come from?" he muttered, stroking the lizard with his finger. "Poor li'l varmint-I've never seen one so far from home before!"

"Confidentially, it arrived by flying saucer," Bud said with a straight face. As Chow glowered at him suspiciously, Bud exploded with laughter. "Okay, okay.

Don't get mad, old-timer. I just borrowed it from the zoology lab!"

Chow was too good-natured to take offense at the joke. Besides, he was touched by the sight of the little reptile from his home range. "Jest for that, I'm a- keepin' this critter for a mascot," he declared. "I'll call him Li'l Ole Alamo."

Tom smiled, patting Chow on the back-"You've earned a reward. And now, how about some grub, pardner?"

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The stout old Texan beamed. "Comin" right up, boss!"

After a quick lunch of frankfurters and baked beans, Tom prepared to give his second matter-making machine a tryout. The foil reflector was turned to face the sun. As the energy-conversion cells began to produce electricity, Tom fed power to the machine. The laboratory hummed with the tremendous flow of current.

"How's she perking?" asked Bud after several minutes had gone by.

Tom's face wore a pleased grin. "Really pouring out oxygen!" he replied.

"Good thing I arranged to pipe it into the station supply tanks, or we'd be s.p.a.ce- happy on the stuff!"

"Are you going to try to make solid matter?" asked Ted.

Tom nodded as he studied the wave pattern on the scope and adjusted several tuning k.n.o.bs. Then he pushed one of the element control b.u.t.tons. "We'll try carbon first," he explained. "That's a basic element in all organic compounds."

The young inventor stood by tensely as the s.p.a.ce solartron throbbed into action. He watched the control dials like a hawk, making frequent adjustments as the needles flickered back and forth.

Minutes crept by ... half an hour . . . then an hour. Finally Tom checked the receiving tank. It contained a thinly sprinkled deposit of a black powdery substance!

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"Magic!" Bud exclaimed. "Don't keep us in suspense, Tom. Is it carbon?"

Tom rubbed some between his thumb and forefinger. "Looks like carbon, all right," Tom replied, his heart pounding. "But I'll check to make sure." He tested the substance with his Swift spectroscope, then nodded without speaking.

"You don't look exactly overjoyed," Ted remarked. "This rates a cheer, doesn't it?"

Tom grinned wryly. "The machine works, if that's what you mean. But at this rate of production, it wouldn't do us much good on the moon or on a s.p.a.ce cruise."

"How come?" asked Bud. "Too slow?"

"Way too slow," Tom said. "It's the same old problem-not enough power.

Which means our real test run will have to wait until Arv gets those energy collectors finished."

Tom concluded his experiments by trying to make two more elements needed in food or fuel compounds-hydrogen and nitrogen. Since hydrogen gas is highly combustible, Tom throttled down the machine so as to produce only a small amount. However, the results showed clearly that, the solartron could generate either kind of gas in large quant.i.ties.

"My congratulations, son!" said Mr. Swift, after hearing Tom's report. "On the basis of this first test, I feel certain that your machine's performance will be up to all expectations when the energy collectors are ready. Meanwhile, perhaps.

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you fellows would like to help on my cosmic dust project?"

Tom, Bud, and Ted were eager to do so. Acting on Mr. Swift's instructions, they rigged a powerful set of electrodes on the hub of the s.p.a.ce wheel. The elder scientist busied himself setting up a special wave-generating apparatus inside the station.

When the setup was complete, Mr. Swift closed a switch, beaming out an ultrahigh-frequency ionization ray. The boys checked the electrodes every few minutes. Bit by bit, the cosmic dust particles began to build up around the positive electrode. By the time Chow sounded the dinner gong, the particles had formed a stone, possessing a metallic l.u.s.ter and looking somewhat like a small meteorite.

"Not bad for a first try." Mr. Swift smiled as he examined the results. "But I seem to be up against the same problem you are, Tom-my process works rather slowly."

"The particles may acc.u.mulate faster as the attracting surface increases in size, Dad," Tom pointed out. "Let's continue the experiment tomorrow. I'm eager to see how this works out."

The next morning, however, while the station crew was eating breakfast, Arv Hanson arrived by shuttle rocket from Fearing Island.

"The luxium and conductate leaves are finished, Tom," he reported. "So are the frameworks of foil tubing. I made up enough for a dozen energy collectors."

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"Good work, Arv!" Tom approved. "Let's get them unloaded and we'll a.s.semble one in my lab."

With Arv and Bud a.s.sisting-Ted would remain with Mr. Swift-Tom set to work immediately. Each set of luxium-conductate leaves was installed in the crisscross framework of tubing and folded over until there was a great pile. Then the wiring was connected. Hours went by. It was midafternoon before the job was finished.

"Whew!" gasped Bud wearily. "That was like working a four-acre crossword puzzle!"

"This is only the beginning, fly boy." Tom grinned. "We still have to test twelve more."

Finally, with more a.s.sistance, the work was accomplished. Each of the huge energy collectors was neatly folded and baled into a compact bundle and transferred to the s.p.a.ceship one by one.

"Are you still going to use helium gas for inflating the tubes?" asked Arv.

"Yes," Tom replied. "But first I'd like to get Dad's advice on the proper inflation pressure."

The young inventor hurried into his father's laboratory, only to find it empty. A crewman told him that Mr. Swift and Ted Spring had gone outside the station to work on the cosmic dust experiment.

Tom donned his s.p.a.ce suit and went out through the air lock. To his amazement, neither Ted nor Mr. Swift was in sight around the s.p.a.ce wheel.

When Tom came back inside, thinking the crewman had been mistaken, he used the 100 .

loud-speaker system, but still he could not locate his father and Ted in any of the station compartments.

Worried, Tom said to Ken Horton, "Where are they?"

"I know they went outside," Ken insisted. "They both checked with me personally, but they never checked in. And your dad laid down that rule himself for keeping tabs on every person at the outpost."

"They're not there now," Tom replied tersely.

Fearing that the two might have drifted off into the void, Tom ordered the station telescope brought into play. But a complete sweep of the surrounding area revealed no trace of the missing pair.

Meanwhile, the radio and radar operators were busy at their sets. They too failed to make contact. Repeated call signals brought no response, and the radarscopes showed no object within range which might be a s.p.a.ce-suited human.

By this time Tom was frantic with worry. Bud tried to console him, saying Mr.

Swift surely would not have done anything foolish, but Tom could not be comforted.

"They're gone," he insisted. "Probably lost." Tom gripped a nearby bulkhead nervously. "Shall I notify Mother and Sandy? And how about Mrs. Spring? She's apt to go to pieces if she thinks anything has happened to Ted!"

Chow Winkler had come out of the galley as soon as he heard the news. The stout cook laid A STARTLING DISAPPEARANCE 101.

a hand on Tom's arm as the young inventor paced back and forth. "Now look here, boss," Chow said sympathetically, "wearin" a hole in the deck ain't gonna help none. How 'bout callin' Harlan Ames? Mebbe he can give you some kind o'

lead."

"Good idea, Chow," Tom agreed.

Within a few moments he had contacted Ames at Enterprises and explained the situation. "Have you heard from Dad?" he asked.

"No, Tom. This is serious. Haven't you any idea what happened to Mr. Swift and Ted?"

"Just one theory," the young inventor replied. "They may have gone a distance from the outpost and been caught in some freakish magnetic stream and couldn't use their radios. No telling how far it might have carried them. Well, since you haven't heard from Dad, I'm going out in the Challenger and find him!"

"I'm glad to hear that," said Ames. "And for the time being, I think you'd better keep the disappearance of your father and Ted a secret. No point in frightening your mother or Mrs. Spring unnecessarily."

"I'll do that, Harlan," Tom promised. "And I'll keep you posted. Roger."

The Challenger was quickly prepared for takeoff. Besides Tom, Bud, and the regular crew, both Arv Hanson and Chow Winkler volunteered to go along.

"Never flew a search pattern in s.p.a.ce before," Bud remarked as Tom sent the mighty ship 102 .

zooming away from the outpost. "How do we do it?"

"By computer," Tom replied. "I've already fed in the data about the time of disappearance and the maximum possible speed they could make of their own volition. From here on, the ship will be guided by electronic brain in the most efficient search pattern."

Half an hour later, the radarman reported to Tom from the communications room, "Something on the screen, skipper! A fast-moving object, elevation twelve degrees, port forward quadrant. Can't make it out!"

Tom swiveled the repelatrons and swung the ship upward in a speedy turn. A streak of pips flashed across their radar screen.

"Only an extra large meteor!" Tom groaned, after chasing it for several moments.

Three hours went by as they circled the s.p.a.ce station in wide-ranging sweeps. But in spite of constant vigilance, they picked up no clues to the fate of Mr. Swift and Ted.

Weary and discouraged, but unwilling to admit defeat, Tom steered for the phantom satellite, Nestria. This tiny asteroid had been moved into orbit around the earth by some unknown creatures in outer s.p.a.ce, with whom the Swifts had established friendly communication. The s.p.a.ce beings had intended this as a first step toward visiting earth, but so far had been unable to master all the problems involved.

"Gonna take a look-see on Little Luna, boss?"

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Chow asked as the rocky moonlet loomed into view.

Tom nodded grimly. "It's a faint hope, Chow, but we have nothing to lose."

Months before, Tom had led a s.p.a.ce expedition to explore the satellite. He had christened it Nestria in honor of his mother, Mary Nestor Swift, but Bud's original nickname of "Little Luna" still clung.

Soon the asteroid filled their view panes. Rugged and barren, except for the installations planted by Tom's group, the moonlet's surface was shadowed by yellow craters and upthrusting crags of pink, gray, and blue.

Tom cruised around the satellite, remembering most of the terrain from his previous visit. Neither radar nor telescope, however, detected any sign of a recent landing.

"What do you think, skipper?" asked Arv, breaking the silence.

"Hopeless. I'm afraid," Tom replied in a dejected voice.

Suddenly Bud snapped his fingers. "Hey! Why not call your s.p.a.ce friends, Tom? They seem to know almost everything that goes on. In fact, maybe they had something to do with your dad's disappearance!"

Tom brightened at the suggestion. "Smart thinking, Bud. It's worth a try."

Some months before, the Swifts had received their first message from the s.p.a.ce people. It had been etched on a black meteorlike missile which 104 .

had plunged to earth at Enterprises. Tom and his father had been successful in translating the queer mathematical symbols on the missile. Later, they had "talked" to the senders in code, using a powerful transmitter. Incoming signals were picked up on a new type of oscilloscope which Tom had invented.

Arv now took over the ship's controls while the two boys hurried down to the radio compartment. Tom beamed out a message, explaining the situation and asking for information about Mr. Swift and Ted.

Minutes went by. Both boys watched the scope intently. But no symbols flashed on the screen.

Tom's heart sank. "Bud," the young inventor said grimly, "it begins to look as if Dad and Ted have been kidnaped!"

CHAPTER XII.

MESSAGE FROM NOWHERE.

"KIDNAPED!" Bud exclaimed. "You mean by your s.p.a.ce friends?"

Tom shrugged. "Perhaps. But more probably by some earth enemies of ours.

Don't forget, there are plenty of troublemakers like Hampshire. Also, spies and criminals who would do almost anything to learn the secrets of Dad's and my inventions."

Bud chilled as he realized the truth of Tom's words. More than once, not only back home in Shopton, but under the ocean and in wild corners of the globe, the young inventor had had to battle ruthless enemies who sought to steal the fruits of the Swifts' scientific genius.