Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X

WALL OF WATER!

Minutes went by before the signal bell rang on the electronic brain.  Both Tom and Bud dashed over to the machine as it began to spell out the incoming message on tape: 

    ENERGY WILL COME TO THE SPOT YOU SUGGESTED. WE CAN CONTROL
    FLIGHT COURSE BUT WHILE THE ENERGY IS ON EARTH YOU WILL BE IN
    CHARGE.  WE WILL HAVE NO CONTROL FOR TWENTY-ONE DAYS.  THEN WE
    WILL RECALL ENERGY TO BRING US IMPRESSIONS AND DATA OF YOUR
    WORLD.

The two boys stared at each other excitedly as the transmission ended.

“Wow!” Bud murmured.  “If Planet X is a peaceful place, Ole Think Box is sure in for a jolt here on earth!”

Tom grinned fleetingly at the reference to Chow’s nickname for the robot creature.  Then he became serious, knowing that Bud’s words were all too true.  The space visitor might also take back impressions of the suffering and warlike threats that some earth countries inflict on one another.  Maybe one day, Tom reflected, it would be different.

In the meantime, the young inventor realized he had an awesome responsibility.  He must not only make the best use of the brain energy during its stay on earth, but also keep it from falling into the hands of treacherous Brungarian plotters.

Tom’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of girls’ voices.  Sandy and Phyl were standing in the doorway of the space-communications laboratory.

“Talk about deep thinkers!” Sandy said teasingly.

“Goodness, we had no idea we’d be interrupting a session of the brain trust,” Phyl added with a mischievous sparkle in her brown eyes.  “Maybe we should go away again, Sandy!”

“Hey!  Hold it, you two!” Bud exclaimed.  “What do you think, Tom—­are these the visitors we’ve been expecting from outer space?”

“Well!  I like that!” Sandy pouted.  “Do we look like a couple of little green people?”

Tom chuckled and seized the opportunity to do a little teasing of his own.  “I think it’s just your pointed heads that fooled us, Sis.”  Then, as the two girls broke down in laughter, he added, “Why the unexpected visit?”

Sandy and Phyl explained that they had come to invite the boys to a picnic cruise on Lake Carlopa the next day.

“And while we’re here, since it’s practically quitting time anyhow,” Sandy went on, her blue eyes twinkling, “we might even let you drive us some place for dinner.”

“Guess they’ve trapped us, Bud,” Tom said with a grin.  “Okay, it’s a deal.  But first we have something to show you.”  He took the girls to his laboratory to show them the robot creature.

“It’s marvelous!” Sandy exclaimed, and Phyl agreed.

Early the next morning Bud called for Tom and Sandy in his tomato-red convertible.  Then they stopped at the Newtons’ house to pick up Phyl.  Each girl had packed a picnic basket for the day’s sail.

“Hmm.  Looks as though we’re going to be well fed,” Bud commented jokingly.  “What’s on the menu, girls?”

“Chicken and ham sandwiches…”  Sandy began.

“Pickles, olives, hard-boiled eggs, potato salad…”  Phyl went on.

“Chocolate cake, milk…”  Sandy took up the list.

“Stop!  You have us hungry as bears already!” Tom warned.

“Right!” Bud agreed.  “Come on!  Let’s get this cruise under way!”

The two couples drove to the Shopton Yacht Club dock on Lake Carlopa.  There they boarded the Sunspot, a beautiful thirty-foot sailing ketch with auxiliary engine which Mr. Swift and Mr. Newton had purchased for a frequently promised but not yet realized joint family vacation.

The craft was equipped with twin gravitex stabilizers, mounted one on each side of the hull.  These gave it amazing smoothness even when plowing through rough seas.  They were adaptations of a device Tom had invented for his space kite and Cosmic Sailer.

“Oh, what a gorgeous day for a sail!” Phyl said, aglow with enthusiasm.

The sky was a cloudless blue.  Under a hot summer sun, a brisk breeze was ruffling the lake into tiny whitecaps.  The two couples cast off eagerly and were soon scudding out across the water under full sail.

Tom and Bud wore swimming trunks under their slacks.  Unfortunately the girls had forgotten to bring their suits.  When the Sunspot reached the center of the lake, the boys hove to, stripped down to their trunks, and dived overboard.  Meanwhile, the girls sun-bathed on deck.  Soon it was time for the picnic lunch, and all four ate with healthy young appetites.

“Jeepers!” Sandy whispered to Phyl with a giggle.  “After a feast like this, we’ll have to go on a diet!”

“Don’t say it,” Phyl warned, “or Tom and Bud will use that as an excuse for never taking us out ag—­”

She broke off with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked.

Breathless with fright, Phyl pointed off to starboard.  The others paled.  An enormous wave was sweeping across the lake, straight toward the ketch!

“Jumpin’ jets!” Bud gulped.  “It’s like a tidal wave!”

The boat was already rocking under the swells that preceded the oncoming huge breaker.

“Quick!” Tom yelled.  “Grab life jackets while I start the engine!”

The four leaped into action.  Every instant the terrifying wave rushed closer!  By now it was a twelve-foot wall of water!

Tom and the others had just put on the jackets and the engine had barely gunned into life when disaster struck.  The mammoth wave swept up the Sunspot and heeled it far over into the trough like a toy bark.  The next instant a cataract of water poured over the deck with stunning force!

“We’re going under!” Phyl screamed.

All four were swept overboard in the maelstrom!  Under the smashing impact of the water, the ketch’s mainmast bent and groaned.  A moment later came a crack like a gunshot.  The mast broke off, hung teetering by shreds, then toppled into the water.  As it fell, the mast struck Sandy a grazing blow on the head!

“Sandy!” Bud cried fearfully as he struggled in the swirling torrent.

Calling on every ounce of strength, he swam with powerful strokes toward the girl.  Sandy was dazed and limp.  Bud’s husky arm circled her tightly.  Then he began to fight his way toward shore.  Tom and Phyl—­each struggling in the turbulent water—­could only breathe a prayer of thanks as they watched the rescue.

  [Illustration (a huge wave capsizes the Sunspot)]

As the huge wave raced shoreward, the lake water gradually became calmer in its wake.  Tom was able to assist Phyl, and Sandy by now had recovered her faculties.

The Sunspot had capsized but could still be seen afloat, some distance away.  Rather than swim to it and cling to the hulk in the hope that a rescue boat would arrive, the four decided to continue on toward shore.  They knew that the aftermath of the tidal wave would keep all shore facilities in an uproar for hours to come.

As they neared the beach, the young people could see other overturned craft and heads bobbing in the water.  A few daring persons finally began putting out in motorboats and rowboats to pick up the survivors.

A hundred yards from shore, one of the boats took Tom’s group aboard.  Minutes later, they were scrambling out onto a dock.

“Are you all right, Sandy?” Bud asked, his arm still around her.

“I—­I think so,” she gasped weakly, “but I must have swallowed half the lake!”

“Take it easy, Sis!” Tom added, as Sandy swayed and shuddered from the shock of her recent ordeal.

Gently he made Sandy lie down and pillowed her head on a folded tarpaulin provided by the sympathetic boatman.  Phyl, though wan and white-faced, was in somewhat better shape.

“Tom, we must get these girls home as soon as possible,” Bud declared.

This, however, was not easily accomplished.  The tidal wave had caused devastation along the entire shore front.  Many docks had been wrecked, boats splintered like matchsticks, and buildings along the water smashed.

When Tom’s group reached Bud’s convertible, parked near the yacht club pier, they found the car completely waterlogged.  Its electrical system gave not even a faint sputter or spark.

“Oh, fine!” Bud groaned.  “The crowning touch!”

Eventually ambulances and private cars began to arrive to transport the injured.  Tom, Bud, and the two girls were given a lift to the Swift home where Sandy and Phyl were immediately put to bed by a worried Mrs. Swift.

Downstairs, Tom switched on the TV set.  A mobile camera crew from the local station was scanning the water front and interviewing witnesses of the disaster.  To the two boys, the most interesting note came in a statement by the announcer that a very slight earth tremor had been felt in Shopton.

“But no damage occurred except along the water front,” the announcer explained.

Tom gave a snort of anger, jumped up from his chair, and began pacing about the living room.  “Bud, I feel sure that wall of water was caused by a minor earthquake!” the young inventor declared.  “What’s more, I’ll bet it was man-made!”

Bud stared at his friend, appalled but feeling a hot surge of anger himself.  “If you’re right, pal, it’s the most fiendish sabotage I’ve ever heard of!  Think of all the lives that were endangered!”

Tom nodded grimly.  “I am thinking!”

Both boys jerked around to look at the TV set again as a studio announcer’s voice suddenly broke into the telecast: 

“Flash!  A severe quake has occurred at the headquarters of the American Archives Foundation, a hundred miles from Shopton.  The Foundation’s buildings, containing many priceless government and scientific documents, were badly damaged, and an underground microfilm vault was utterly destroyed.  Apparently this quake was part of the tremor felt here at Shopton.”

Within minutes the Swifts’ home phone began jangling constantly.  Some calls were from friends, others from strangers.  Many of the calls were routed through from the Enterprises switchboard.

One was from Dan Perkins of the Shopton Bulletin.  “What about it, Tom?” the editor demanded.  “I guess you know by now the public’s aroused and in a state of near panic over all these quakes.  What they all want to know is this:  are you, Tom Swift, going to find a way to stop all this destruction?”

Tom’s jaw jutted out angrily.  “Yes, I am!” he snapped.  “And you can quote me on that!”