Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X

by II Victor Appleton

  CHAPTER IV

  ANOTHER TREMOR!

  Tom was appalled at this new danger. Shoving his drawing board back intoits wall slot, the young inventor hurried to his desk and made a numberof telephone calls.

  Within minutes, a group of five of his most trusted associates hadassembled in Tom's office. First to arrive were Bud Barclay, Ames, andGeorge Dilling, the Swifts' communications chief. They were joinedmoments later by Hank Sterling, the square-jawed chief engineer andtrouble shooter of Enterprises, and Arvid Hanson.

  Hanson, a hulking six-footer, made all the delicate scale models of TomJr.'s and Tom Sr.'s inventions. He was not only an expert craftsman,but, like all the Swifts' key men, a trained aircraft and space pilot aswell.

  "What's up, skipper?" Bud asked.

  "I guess you might call this a council of war," Tom replied.

  He divulged his fears that Brungarian scientists might hijack the brainenergy to be sent from Planet X, home of the Swifts' unknown spacefriends.

  "Bud, you recall Mother's remark last night about the danger that thisenergy may prove overwhelmingly powerful," Tom went on. "Well, justsuppose that our Brungarian pals fit it out in robot form, then turn itloose against us or our friends in other countries."

  Bud gave an awed whistle. "Boy, a thing like that might make even apowerful missile look like a toy!"

  Even if the brain energy proved too small to be harnessed fordestructive purposes, Tom went on, it might turn out to possesssuperintelligence. Gifted with all the scientific know-how of the spacepeople, it might be made to reveal those secrets to the Brungarians.

  "They might learn from it how to construct weapons or space craftpowerful enough to conquer the free world!" Tom ended.

  His listeners were grim-faced at the thought.

  "I'd say that's a far worse danger than any chance of their coming upwith a robot monster," Ames said.

  "Ditto!" Hanson agreed.

  "I think so too," Tom replied. "In any case, it's up to us to make surethe Brungarians don't switch that energy off course before it landshere."

  "Think their scientists are capable of such a stunt?" George Dillinginquired.

  Tom shrugged. "They're certainly far advanced in the fields of rocketguidance and telemetry. But actually we just don't know."

  Hank Sterling glanced hopefully at the young inventor. "Got any ideas,skipper?" he asked.

  Tom drummed a pencil on the table thoughtfully before replying. "Maybeour best bet is first to find out all we can about the lines of researchon which they're concentrating. That might be the tip-off."

  After a thorough discussion, it was decided that Ames and Dilling wouldfly to Washington at once and talk to the FBI and Central Intelligence.Their job would be to garner and piece together every scrap ofinformation on Brungarian scientists' accomplishments.

  "Let us know as soon as you get a general picture," Tom said.

  Ames and Dilling promised to do so, and the meeting broke up.

  Feeling somewhat reassured now that a definite plan of action had beendecided upon, Tom resumed work on his sketches. Although both theproblem and the solution were still hazy in his mind, a few ideas beganto take shape.

  A radio antenna would certainly be needed, to receive or transmitsignals at a distance. And repelatron units would give the brain a wayto exert force when it wanted to act. These were devices which Tom hadinvented to produce a repulsion-force ray. He had used the principle inboth air and space flight.

  A power plant might also be needed to generate additional energy in casethe brain's own energy was very small. Lastly, there would have to be acontrol system for use either by the brain itself or by its humanoperators.

  After an hour of work at top speed, Tom was rather pleased with onerough sketch. He was mulling over the idea when Chow Winkler and BudBarclay wandered into the office. Both were impressed when Tom explainedthe sketch.

  Chow stared at it, goggle-eyed at the thought of such a contraption"coming to life." "So that's the Ole Think Box, eh?" he muttered.

  Tom laughed. "Good name, Chow!"

  All three were startled as a voice suddenly broke in over the wallintercom. It was the operator on duty at the plant's communicationcenter.

  "Turn on your TV, skipper," the operator suggested. "We've just had anews bulletin that an earthquake tremor has been felt over in Medfield.There's a big plant there that makes rocket nose cones. A mobile TVcrew's been rushed to the scene in a helicopter and they're trying topick up the action with a television camera."

  "Good night! Another quake?" Bud gasped.

  Tom had already rushed to the videophone. Flicking it on, he switched toa commercial channel. Soon a picture appeared on the screen. It was apanoramic shot of a landscape, evidently viewed from a hoveringaircraft, with a large industrial plant just below.

  A TV commentator's voice was reporting developments. "Few visible signsof a tremor," he said. "As you can see, the rocket-plant personnel andthe people of Medfield are making desperate attempts to evacuate.Fortunately, most of them have already left the immediate area."

  A few cars and trucks could still be seen speeding along the ribbonlikeroads within view of the hovering television camera.

  "Oh--oh!" The commentator's voice broke in again. "Notice that tallstack just over the plant--see how it's starting to tremble!... It'sbeginning to crumble!... This must be it!"

  Suddenly the whole scene seemed to explode. Plant buildings collapsedlike toy houses built of cards, while at the same time huge rocks andtrees were uprooted as a yawning crack opened in the ground below.

  The three watchers in Tom's office stared in horrified dismay. But amoment later the picture on the TV screen became jerky and distorted,then faded out completely.

  After a brief interval, a studio announcer came on. "The relaytransmitter must have been knocked out by the quake. We return you nowto our regularly scheduled program, but will keep you informed asbulletins come in."

  "Great balls o' fire!" Chow gulped as Tom turned off the set. "I surehope all o' those poor folks in cars got away safe!"

  Tom rushed to a wall shelf and pulled out a book on geology. He leafedquickly to a section dealing with known earthquake faults and thedistribution of quakes. When he looked up at the others, his face wasgrim.

  "What's wrong, skipper?" Bud asked tensely.

  "That quake," Tom replied, "wasn't in a patterned zone any more than theFaber one was!"

  Chow's jaw dropped open in a comic look of dismay. "You mean this hereole earth we live on is gettin' all busted up an' twisted aroundinside?"

  "I wish I knew, Chow!" Tom paced worriedly about the office. "It justseems queer to me that both of those quakes should have destroyed vitaldefense factories!"

  On a sudden impulse, Tom snatched up the telephone. His two companionslistened as he put through a call to the FBI in Washington. Withinmoments, a friend at the Bureau, Wes Norris, came on the line.

  "Look, Wes," Tom said, "is there any chance this quake that justhappened at Medfield and the earlier one at Faber Electronics might havebeen caused by underground H-bomb blasts?"

  "As a matter of fact, we're checking on that very possibility," Norrisreplied. "In other words, sabotage. Things are pretty hot around heresince that news on Medfield came in, so I can't talk much right now,Tom. But I can tell you this," Wes concluded, "we _are_ investigating,and I do mean thoroughly!"

  Bud and Chow were shocked when Tom reported his conversation with theFBI agent.

  "Brand my rattlesnake stew!" Chow exploded. "Any ornery varmint that'dcause an earthquake ought to be strung up like a hoss thief!"

  "I agree, Chow," Tom said. "But how do we find out for sure?"

  After closing time at the plant, Bud drove home with Tom. Both Mrs.Swift and Sandy were upset as the boys discussed the situation.

  "Tom, if this was deliberate," Mrs. Swift pointed out, "Enterprises maybe next on the enemy's list!"

  Tom did his best to allay his mother's fears, but inwardly he
himselffelt apprehensive. Any large-scale sabotage plot would be almost certainto include Swift Enterprises, America's most daring and advancedresearch center.

  When his mother went upstairs to her room, Tom suggested to Bud thatthey drive to the nearby State Police post. Here he confided his fearsto Captain Rock, an old friend of the Swifts.

  "You have some request in mind?" Captain Rock inquired.

  "How about making a search for any signs of suspicious digging orunderground activity in the vicinity of Shopton?" Tom said. "There wouldhave to be an excavation of some sort in order to set off an undergroundblast."

  Captain Rock mulled over Tom's suggestion. "Sounds like a big job, butI'm afraid you're right, Tom. We can't risk a similar disaster here."

  "We'd better move fast, too," Bud put in. "Those two quakes so far cameonly a day apart!"

  Rock picked up the telephone and barked out orders. Within half an hour,several carloads of troopers were covering the outlying roads thatconverged on Shopton. Firemen and Chief Slater's town police force werealso pressed into action. They would search every cellar in town forsigns of recent digging.

  Bud rode in one police car and Tom in another as a house-to-house searchwas conducted along the highway that ran past Enterprises.

  At one weather-beaten house, where Bud stopped with a state trooper, anold man came to the door.

  "What you fellers prowlin' around for?" he asked.

  "Bomb emergency," the trooper said laconically. "We have orders tosearch every house cellar for underground openings."

  Grumbling, the old man let them enter. He followed them down a ricketystairway. A moment later Bud stumbled and gave a yell. The trooper swungaround just in time to see Bud drop from view!