Victor Appleton - Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X

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"No harm?" Bud snorted. "You had Swift Enterprises in a real lather when
we found out."

Nolan spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "I'm truly sorry," he
repeated.

"How were you able to find out how my father's voice sounded?" Tom
asked.

"I listened to a recording of a speech he made at the Fourth of July
rally here in Shopton," Nolan explained. "I borrowed the tape from a
local radio station. Guess that's how your security men got onto me."

"What did this fellow Runkle look like?" Ames asked.

Nolan thought for a moment. "Oh, he was past middle age, I should say.
Grizzled hair, thick-lensed glasses. And he was quite heavy-set."

"Hmm. Then it certainly wasn't Narko," Ames murmured to Tom.

The young inventor nodded. "I believe I know him. The name just came
back to me. I met a Professor Runkle in New York about a month ago, at a
scientific convention. He was a member of the visiting Brungarian
delegation."

"We'll check on him," Ames promised. He turned back sternly to the young
actor. "All right, Nolan, I guess you can go. But I warn you--no more
impersonations."

After more flustered apologies, the actor hurried out, obviously
relieved.

"What a dumb egg he is!" Bud muttered.

"In a way he may have helped us," Tom pointed out. "If the Brungarian
rebels hadn't found out about Exman, we couldn't have lured them into
that kidnap plot. It's already helped us to save the Bona Fide Submarine
Building Corporation."

Monday morning Ames reported that Professor Runkle had left the country.
Tom was not sorry, since an arrest and public trial might have led to
dangerous publicity about Exman. The probings of a sharp-tongued defense
attorney might even have tipped off the Brungarian to Tom's real purpose
in letting the space brain be hijacked.

Meanwhile, a telephone call from Washington announced that State
Department men were flying to Enterprises to confer with the Swifts
about taking official action against the Brungarian attacks. The group
arrived by jet after lunch. Thurston of the CIA was also present.

"The problem is this," a State Department official said as they
discussed the matter in the Swifts' office. "Should we bring charges
against Brungaria before the United Nations? Or should we rely on other
means, short of war, to block the Brungarian rebel coup?"

Mr. Swift frowned thoughtfully. "It might be difficult to prove they
were responsible for the earthquake attacks," he pointed out.

"I'd say it's impossible," Tom said, "unless we give away the secret
about our electronic spy." He paused, then added, "Sir, if the State
Department will agree, I'd like more time before you make any official
moves."

The Quakelizors, Tom argued, seemed to offer protection against any
future quake waves, unless the power of the shocks was greatly stepped
up. Meantime, working through Exman, Tom might be able to provide the
Brungarian loyalists with valuable information. "I'm hoping it will help
them overthrow the rebel clique and their brutal allied military
bosses."

The State Department men conferred, then Thurston spoke up quietly, "In
our opinion, it's worth a gamble."

After the group had left, the Swifts resumed their sensing experiments
in Tom's private laboratory. They were hard at work when the signal bell
suddenly rang on the electronic brain.

The two scientists rushed to read the incoming message. It said:

EXMAN TO SWIFTS. ONE ENEMY EARTHQUAKE PRODUCER IS AT...

Here the message gave precise latitude and longitude figures. It went
on:

RUIN OF SWIFT PLACE IN ONE WEEK.

Tom and his father gasped in dismay. "I thought the New York-New England
Quakelizor was going to protect us!" the young inventor exclaimed. "Our
enemies must have located another earth fault with Enterprises right in
its path!"

Hastily opening an atlas, Tom fingered the location of the proposed
source of attack. It was Balala Island off the coast of Peru.

"Dad, that settles it!" Tom declared grimly. "It's clear now that those
Brungarian rebels want to destroy us and use Exman in some way to
conquer the earth!"

"I don't doubt that you're right, son," Mr. Swift said grimly. "We must
act fast! But how?"

Again, the signal bell interrupted. This time, Exman gave a number of
military details, evidently picked up from orders issuing from
Brungarian rebel headquarters. They concerned incoming troop movements
from the north and operational plans for crushing out the last pockets
of resistance by loyal government forces.

Tom recorded them with TV tape, then snatched up the telephone and
called the Central Intelligence Agency in Washington. He relayed the
information from Exman and asked if American agents could transmit it to
the loyalists.

"Don't worry. Well see that it reaches them," the CIA chief assured Tom.
"Many thanks. This _could_ have important consequences."

As Tom hung up he decided on a bold move. "Dad, I'm going to lead a raid
on Balala!"

"A raid!" The elder scientist was electrified.

"According to the atlas, the island is barren and deserted," Tom said,
"so no friendly power will object if we land there. If it's being used
as an enemy base for quake attacks against our country, we have every
right to investigate. I might be able to learn the secret of the
setup--perhaps even put the equipment out of commission."

"Nevertheless, a raid by a United States force could lead to trouble if
the base there puts up any resistance," Mr. Swift said gravely.

"That's why I intend to handle it myself," Tom declared. "I'll take all
responsibility."

Tom Sr.'s eyes flashed as he recalled some of his own hair-raising
exploits in younger days. "All right, son," he said, putting a hand on
Tom's shoulder. "I know I can trust your judgment. Good luck!"

Again Tom issued a call for volunteers. Bud, Hank Sterling, Arv Hanson,
and Chow were all eager to take part. Within an hour they were taking
off for Fearing. At the rocket base, they embarked in the _Sea Hound_,
Tom's favorite model of his diving seacopter. A powerful central rotor
with reversible-pitch blades, spun by atomic turbines, enabled the craft
to rise through the air or descend into the deepest abysses of the
ocean. Propulsion jets gave it high speed in either medium.

Loaded with equipment, the _Sea Hound_ streaked southward through the
skies--first to Florida, then across the Gulf and Central America into
the Pacific. Here Tom eased down to the surface of the water and
submerged.

It was near midnight when the _Sea Hound_ rose from the depths just off
Balala. The lonely rocky island lay outlined like a huddled black mass
against the star-flecked southern sky. No glimmer of light showed
anywhere ashore.

"Maybe no one's here," Bud murmured.

"Don't bank on that," Tom said. "They wouldn't be apt to advertise their
presence to passing ships or planes."

Tom nosed inshore as closely as he dared from sonar soundings, finally
easing the _Sea Hound_ up to a rocky reef that fingered out from the
beach. Then he, Bud, Hank, and Arv clambered out, armed with wrecking
tools and powerful flashlights.

Chow, in spite of his muttered grumblings, was ordered to stay aboard
and guard the ship with the other two crewmen who had come along.

Tom led his party cautiously ashore from the reef. They probed the
darkness of the beach. Their footfalls sounded eerily in the night
silence, broken only by the soughing of the sea wind and splash of
breakers.

"Good place for spooks!" Bud whispered jokingly.

A steep draw led upward among the rocky slopes. A hundred feet on, Tom's
group found the black yawning mouth of a cave. The yellow beams of their
flashlights revealed a tunnel leading downward inside. Tom checked with
a pocket detector. Its gauge needle showed no field force caused by
electrical equipment in operation.

"Okay, let's go in!" Tom murmured.

Cautiously they moved into the tunnel. Then suddenly ahead of them a
powerful dazzling light burst on, nearly blinding the searchers!

CHAPTER XIX

A FIENDISH MACHINE

A chill of fear gripped Tom and his companions as they blinked
helplessly in the glare! Had the enemy detected them the first moment
they had set foot on Balala Island? Had they walked blindly into a trap?

Gradually Tom's eyes and those of his friends adjusted to the dazzling
radiance. A door, blocking the tunnel just ahead, had slid open and the
light was pouring out of a room beyond.

"What happened?" Arv gasped.

Tom pointed downward to a pedallike plunger inserted in the tunnel
floor. "This must be a switch," he explained. "When I stepped on it
accidentally, it must have opened the door and flashed on the lights."

Bud whistled. "Wow! Let's be thankful it wasn't a booby trap!"

"Maybe it is," murmured Hank grimly.

Steeling their nerves, and with every sense alert, the searchers
advanced into the secret room.

Tom suddenly gave a cry of amazement. "The earthquake machine!"

A huge hydraulic device, with massive steel bed and supporting pillars,
looking somewhat like the enormous body presses found in automobile
plants, stood embedded in a recess in one wall.

Tom rushed to the machine and examined it in fascination. A powerful
diesel generator stood nearby with banks of complicated electrical
equipment, amid a spider-web tangle of wiring. Tom assumed this gear was
for timing and synchronizing the shock waves. Evidently the whole setup
was operated from a single control panel in the wall, studded with knobs
and dials.

"What a job of design!" Tom exclaimed in awe. His eyes roved over every
detail of the equipment while he poked here and there with his hands. He
was getting the "feel" of the setup almost as much by touch and handling
as by his superb technical intuition. "Boy, I hate to admire anything
those Brungarian rebel scientists do, but this is really masterful!"

"Yes? Well, don't go ga-ga over it," said Bud. "Let's do what we came to
do and scram out of here. This place makes me jumpy!"

Tom appeared oblivious. "It seems like vandalism to wreck such an
engineering achievement! Also, and this may sound strange to you," he
went on in a doubtful tone, "are we _really_ justified in taking the law
into our own hands?"

"They're trying to wreck _our_ setup, aren't they?" Bud retorted. "Think
of the destruction they've caused already! Do you want to stand by and
see Enterprises destroyed too?"

"Bud's right," Hank Sterling spoke up quietly. "Take a look at this."

He beckoned them over to another corner of the cave and pointed to a
series of notations, crudely scrawled in white chalk on the cave wall.
Half hidden behind a clump of rock, they would have escaped casual
notice.

Tom read them and gave an angry gasp. A list of places and dates,
already checked off, showed the quakes that had occurred so far. The
last notation, not yet checked, said: SWIFT ENTERPRISES and was dated
five days ahead.

"Okay, that's all the convincing I need!" Tom said grimly.

He issued quick orders. Hank and Arv were to rush back to the _Sea
Hound_, get an underwater pump from the gear carried aboard, and install
it just off the beach. From there, they were to run a pipe line up into
the cave, using special plastic tubing which hooked together in a jiffy.

"Cover the piping with sand and gravel, so it won't be noticed," Tom
added. "In the meantime, Bud and I will go to work on this setup here."

"Aye-aye, skipper!" Hank and Arv responded.

As they hurried out through the tunnel, Tom and Bud set to work with the
tools they had brought along. The diesel was partly dismantled, sand
poured into its fuel feed, and the generator windings ripped out. The
boys then tore off and tangled all wiring leads to the electrical
equipment, took apart much of the equipment itself, and smashed the
control panel.

"Boy, if those Brungarian creeps get this setup working again, they're
_really_ geniuses!" Bud said as he and Tom paused a second.

"This is only the beginning, pal!" Tom said. "Let's tackle the machine!"

The huge earthquake device was a far more difficult proposition to
disable. Its heavy structural parts had to be disassembled or pried
apart, one by one. Both boys were streaked with sweat as they finished.

By this time, Hank and Arv had the piping installed halfway into the
tunnel. Spurred on as if by a sixth sense of danger, Tom told them to go
back to the beach and get the pump working while he and Bud connected
the few remaining pipe lengths into the machine room.

Minutes later, their job done, Tom and Bud rushed out to the mouth of
the cave and waved their flashlights. Soon the water could be heard
boiling through the pipeline. It gushed out with a roar, flooding the
machine room.

"Let's go!" Tom cried, yanking Bud's arm.

As they reached the beach and joined Hank and Arv, Tom's keen ears
picked up the drone of a plane somewhere in the darkness.

He gave a yell of alarm and pointed skyward. A ghostlike jet came
zooming into view, boring straight toward them. All four broke into a
mad dash for the seacopter.

They were halfway out on the reef when the plane leveled out of its dive
with an earsplitting whine.

"Hide!" Tom shouted, fearing a bomb might be dropped.

[Illustration
(Tom and friends are attacked by a ray gun from an airplane)]

All leaped for cover among the rocks. At the same instant, a fiery beam
like a bolt of lightning shot from the plane. It seared the spot on the
reef they had just vacated!

"A ray gun!" Bud gasped.

The plane's speed had already carried it far past the island. Before it
could maneuver around for another pass, Tom and his companions were on
their feet, racing for the safety of the _Sea Hound_.

They were aboard and clamping shut the hatch lid as the jet made its
second pass. This time its fiery ray glanced harmlessly off the
seacopter's Tomasite sheathing. Seconds later, the _Sea Hound_ had
darted off beyond reach into the ocean waters.

"Whew! We really broke all speed records that time!" Arv panted.

The others looked at him with wan but triumphant grins. Then they began
to speculate on what the beamlike bolt was, who was in the plane, and if
their enemy knew who Tom's group were.

Dawn was streaking the sky when the seacopter arrived at Fearing Island.
The adventurers flew back to Enterprises at once. Tom and Bud snatched a
few hours' sleep in the apartment adjoining Tom's laboratory.

Later in the morning the whole group gathered in Tom's laboratory to
recount the raid to Mr. Swift and Harlan Ames. A bell signal from the
electronic brain brought them rushing to the decoder. Grim news awaited
them. The message said:

EXMAN TO SWIFTS. YOUR ENEMIES ARE NOW SURE I AM SPY. THEY PLAN
TO DESTROY ME.

"No! It mustn't happen!" Tom cried in dismay. "Dad, I'll rescue him
myself!"

His words were greeted with shocked protests from the others.

"Don't be crazy!" Bud said. "You wouldn't have a chance!"

"It would be suicide!" Arv Hanson declared.

Chow grabbed his young boss by the arm. "Brand my cayenne pepper, before
I'd let you make a blame fool move like that, I'd rope an' hawg-tie you
myself!"

Ames interjected the most convincing argument. "I know how you feel,
Tom," he said sympathetically, "but I'm positive the United States
government would never permit such a risky undertaking."

Tom was beside himself with anxiety. Not only had he worked and
struggled to make the space brain's visit a scientific success, but also
it was he who had thought of the scheme to use Exman as a spy. In Tom's
eyes, if the Brungarian rebels were to destroy the brain's body, it
would amount to murder! The young inventor knew that the destruction of
the "body" would not destroy the energy, but that it would be "lost" as
far as the earth was concerned.

Who knew, Tom asked himself, what priceless secrets the "brain" might
ultimately yield to earth's scientific researchers? If the Brungarians
were to succeed, this might deter the Swifts' space friends from ever
attempting another visit to our planet!

In despair, Tom turned to his father. "You know how much is at stake,
Dad!" he pleaded. "Isn't there something we can do?"

Mr. Swift had been silent, thoughtfully drumming his pencil on the
workbench. He looked up.

"Tom, I can think of only one thing," he said. "Perhaps our friends on
Planet X can help us. They said they would have no control over the
energy until it was ready to return home. But maybe we can get them to
help us transfer the energy back here--not by any means of earth
transportation, but by some extraterrestrial means known to their
scientists."

Tom's eyes kindled with hope. "Dad, that's a terrific idea!" he
exclaimed. "Let's try!"

A message was quickly beamed out into space. Minutes went by. Then the
machine signaled a reply. It said:

WE WILL ATTEMPT RESCUE IF YOU WILL ARC A POWERFUL RADIO BEAM
FROM POINT OF ORIGINAL EARTH LANDING TO POINT WHERE ENERGY IS
NOW.

Moments later, a further message followed, giving technical instructions
on how to project the beam. It ended:

NOTIFY US WHEN SETUP IS READY.

"Yahoo!" Chow whooped. "Brand my space guns, I reckon we'll get Ole
Think Box home safe after all!"

"He's not home yet, Chow," Tom cautioned, grinning but still tense with
worry. "Glad you said that, though. It reminds me that the first job on
our hands is to build a new think box for Exman!"

With hope alive, Tom turned icy calm and buckled down to the work at
hand. Before beginning construction of a new space robot, he contacted
Exman via the electronic brain and asked him for his exact location in
Brungaria. The answer came in precise latitude and longitude.

Next, Tom radioed instructions for the rescue plan. As soon as Exman was
notified that the invisible force from Planet X was ready to transport
his energy, he was to unlatch point five of his star head. He would then
be free to attach his energy to the rescue beam and be arced back to the
hillside spot near Enterprises, where Tom would have a new robot body
waiting.

Exman replied tersely:

MESSAGE UNDERSTOOD. WILL COMPLY.

Tom snapped out orders. "Hank! Arv! Bud! And, Dad, we can sure use your
help too! Every hour may be precious! We must construct a replica of
Exman's robot container as fast as possible!"

Every resource of Swift Enterprises was convulsed into action. But for
all their scientific miracles, the staff could not perform magic. The
complicated robot device required hours of highly skilled construction.

Darkness had fallen by the time the energy container was ready.
Meanwhile, a powerful transmitter and directional antenna had been set
up at the hillside spot. Extensive reports on the condition of the
ionosphere poured into headquarters.

The Swifts and their small group of trusted associates trucked the new
robot and the electronic brain out to the site. Tom then signaled his
space friends that he was ready. They responded with the exact time for
the rescue attempt. Tom transmitted the information to Exman, who
replied:

DANGER NEAR. BRUNGARIAN SCIENTISTS READY TO DESTROY ME.

"Great bellowin' buffaloes!" Chow gulped. "Please make it quick, Tom! We
got to save that space critter!"

Tom glanced at his illuminated watch dial. The countdown ticked by.
Suddenly his hand closed a switch, transmitting the rescue beam. More
moments passed as the Swifts and the watchers strained their eyes toward
the night sky.

"Here it comes!" Bud yelled suddenly.

A fiery bluish-white light had suddenly flamed into view. It grew
steadily larger. Tom poised the container and opened one point of the
star head.

Now the blue fireball was arcing down over the hillside, trailing its
orange-red comet tail. It hissed into the container and Tom snapped shut
the star head.

The next moment, the young inventor wavered and slumped unconscious!

CHAPTER XX

THE ROBOT SPY'S STORY

"Tom!" his father cried. Anxiously the others crowded around the lanky
young inventor, who had fallen beside the new robot.

"Stand back! Give him air!" Bud urged. "How is he, Mr. Swift?"

The elder scientist was feeling Tom's wrist. "His pulse is beating, but
it's a bit weak. He must have received a terrific shock from all that
energy!... Tom!... Tom, son, can you hear me?"

The young inventor moaned and stirred faintly but his eyes did not open.
His cheeks and lips seemed colorless in the glow of Mr. Swift's
flashlight. Chow was terrified, hovering about helplessly.

"I'll call Doc Simpson to bring a pulmotor!" Hank exclaimed.

"Yes, do, Hank!" Mr. Swift pleaded. "Quick!"

An ambulance arrived a few minutes later. Doc Simpson and an attendant
leaped out, and the resuscitation equipment--specially designed by the
Swifts for their plant infirmary--was hastily unloaded.

Anxious moments followed, but finally Tom began to respond to the
treatment. Soon his eyes were open and he regained full consciousness.
As Doc held a paper cup of water for him to sip, Tom smiled wanly.

"Okay." he murmured, "I'm all right now. Sorry if I scared you, Dad." He
started to get up.

"It's a hospital bed for you, skipper. And no arguments!" Doc Simpson
said sternly. "What happened here?"

"I believe," Mr. Swift answered, "that our space friends, in finding a
way to move the energy back to us, had less close control over it on
earth than when they sent it from space."

By midmorning the next day, Tom had awakened refreshed from a good
night's sleep and felt normal again. Over Doc Simpson's protests, he
insisted upon dressing and hurrying over to his laboratory.

Here he found his father working intently amid a jumble of mechanical
parts, tools, and electronic equipment. Nearby stood Exman with a panel
open in his upper body, exposing the controls and output equipment.

"Hi, Dad!" Tom exclaimed as he strode into the laboratory. "What's doing
with Ole Think Box?"

Mr. Swift looked up with a smile of relief. "'Morning, son! All well
again? That's wonderful! I'm just giving Exman an artificial speech
mechanism. He's already briefed us via the electronic brain on the
situation in Brungaria. But I thought it would be even better if he
could tell us in person."

Details on the earthquake plot, Mr. Swift went on, had already been
reported to the Defense Department. Tom's raid on Balala Island had
effectively blocked further quake attempts.

The Brungarian rebels had become enraged by their failure to extract
Exman's secrets, and had decided to disintegrate the robot creature and
its brain energy. But the youthful Brungarian loyalist group had kept
them so busy with resistance outbreaks that they had delayed too long.

"Lucky thing!" Tom put in with an affectionate grin at Exman. "If they
had started to destroy him half an hour sooner, it might have been
pretty sad for Ole Think Box!"

Tom was intrigued by his father's design for an artificial speech
mechanism. After talking it over, they decided that Tom would go to work
on a central computer device to integrate all the senses. He would also
provide Exman with "ears," which would be sound-reception equipment. Mr.
Swift, meanwhile, would continue work on the speech mechanism and also
perfect the seeing equipment he had started earlier.

The day sped by as the two Swifts worked with feverish intensity. Lunch
was eaten from their workbenches, but the inventors reluctantly halted
at dinnertime.

After a tasty meal of fried chicken at home with Mrs. Swift and Sandy,
both Toms returned to the plant. Father and son labored until well past
midnight on their experiments. Then they snatched a few hours of sleep
and resumed their tasks early the next morning.

By early afternoon an atmosphere of excitement pervaded Enterprises. The
visitor from Planet X would soon be able to communicate directly with
his earth friends! Bud, Chow, Hank Sterling, Arv Hanson, and Art
Wiltessa gathered in the laboratory, along with several other Swift key
men. Mrs. Swift, Sandy, and Phyl also arrived to watch.

At last the sensing equipment was completed and installed. Exman was
ready to speak!

His voice came out haltingly, but as the words were selected from a vast
taped collection, they were clear and bold:

GREETINGS TO YOU, MY EARTH FRIENDS!

Sandy gave a squeal of delight and the room echoed with applause for
Exman's first effort. After a few adjustments, he was able to speak more
freely and smoothly.

Tom whispered to Phyl, "Confidentially, we had a dummy run before
lunchtime. At first, all Exman could do was croak like a frog."

Phyl, thrilled by the spectacle of a speaking space creature, gave the
young inventor's hand a squeeze. "Tom, he's just wonderful!"

Tom agreed. "Our country owes him a lot for exposing the Brungarian
rebel schemes."

To Tom's amazement, Exman's "ears" picked up his murmured words, even
above the babble of the spectators crowding the room.

"Your country owes you much, Tom Swift," the creature said. "You
conceived the idea of an electronic spy and found ways to block the
rebels' destructive earthquake plans."

As Tom flushed at the crowd's applause, Exman continued, "Unless I am
mistaken, you will soon learn that you have accomplished even more."

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