Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X

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!