CHAPTER XVI
A UNIQUE EXPERIMENT
"Bearing?" Tom cried.
"One-seven-five!" Arv Hanson sang out.
Tom gunned his port jet turbine and swung the _Swiftsure_ hard right.The abrupt turn at high speed sent the craft sideslipping crazily like askidding race boat.
"Here she comes, skipper!" Bud yelled. He had rushed to the sonarscopewith the other members of the crew.
Tom's maneuver had carried them a good hundred yards off the missile'scourse. Now he yanked a lever, pulling the cadmium rods still fartherfrom the atomic pile, in order to increase power and jet-blast their substill farther out of range.
But suddenly the men at the scope blanched. "The missile's turning too!"Hank cried. "It's homing in on us!"
Unlike most Swift craft used on scientific expeditions, the cargo sub'shull had not been coated with Tomasite. This would have insulated itfrom all magnetic effects or any form of pulse detection. Tom had chosenthe _Swiftsure_ partly for this very reason, so that the Brungarianrebels could easily pick up its trail after leaving Fearing.
How ironic if his choice should prove fatal! As the thought flashedthrough Tom's brain, the missile came streaking into view through thesub's transparent nose.
By this time, Tom had flipped up the _Swiftsure's_ diving planes. Thecraft plummeted deeper into the ocean depths.
"Brand my whale blubber, she's turnin' again!" Chow gulped. Themissile's arc, as it veered around to follow, painted a streak of lighton the sonarscope.
Anxious moments raced by while Tom steered their craft in a deadly gameof tag with the sub-killer. Gradually the missile appeared to be losingmomentum.
"It's slowing down, all right!" Arv called out.
In a few minutes the missile had lost so much way that Tom was easilyable to outdistance it. The crew crowded to the scope, heaving sighs ofrelief. The missile, its velocity spent, sank harmlessly toward thebottom.
"Boy, what a close call!" Bud gasped weakly. "You played that thing likea toreador sidestepping a bull, Tom! Nice going!"
The others echoed Bud's sentiments, with fervent handshakes andbackslaps for Tom's skillful evasive action.
"Jest the same," said Chow, "I'd sure like to make Narko an' themBrungarian hoss thieves dance a Texas jig with a little hot lead sprayedaround their boot heels! Sneakin' bushwhackers! It's jest like I toldHank about his airplane scheme--they'd try to gun us down, like as not,soon as they got their hands on Exman!"
"I guess you had them figured right, Chow," Tom agreed wryly. "Well, atleast we've lost their sub!"
The Brungarian raider was no longer visible even as a faint blip ontheir radarscope. Evidently Narko had thought the jetmarine a surevictim and headed back to his own base.
Nevertheless, Tom steered a wary zigzag course back to Fearing. Whenthey arrived at the island, he immediately telephoned Bernt Ahlgren andWes Norris in Washington to report the hijacking of the space brain.Both men praised the young inventor for his daring scheme to outwit theruthless Brungarian rebel clique.
"If your idea pays off, Tom, we should be able to checkmate every movethose phonies and their allies make!" Norris declared.
"I'm hoping we can do even better than that," Tom replied. "Part of myplan is to help the Brungarian loyalists through Exman's tip-offs. Withsome smart quarterbacking, we might be able to rally the rightfulgovernment before all resistance is crushed out."
"Terrific!" Norris exclaimed. "Let's hope your scheme works!"
Tom had ordered the space oscilloscopes to be manned constantly, both atFearing and at Enterprises, in case of a flash from Exman. But no wordhad yet been received when Tom and his companions arrived at themainland late that afternoon.
Mr. Swift greeted his son warmly at the airfield. Tom had refrained fromradioing the news to Enterprises after the hijacking and the missileattempt. Any such message, Tom feared, might be picked up by the enemyand bring on another attack. But the young inventor had telephoned hisfather immediately after calling Washington.
Now Mr. Swift threw his arm affectionately around the lanky youth. "Youlook pretty well bushed, son. Why not hustle home and call it a day?That goes for the rest of you, too," he added to Bud, Chow, and theothers. "You've just risked your lives and the strain is bound to tell."
Tom urged his companions to comply. "But I'm sticking right here," theyoung inventor told his father. "I want to be on hand the minute Exmancontacts us."
Bud insisted upon staying with his pal. The two boys ate a quiet supperin Tom's private laboratory and finally lay down on cots in theadjoining apartment. But first Tom posted a night operator to watch theelectronic brain.
"Wake me up the second that alarm bell goes off," he ordered.
"Okay, skipper," the radioman promised.
No message arrived to disturb the boys' rest. Tom felt a pang of worryas he dressed the next morning, and then relieved the man on duty at thedecoder. Had the Brungarians somehow outwitted him? Surely Exman shouldhave reported by this time!
"Relax, pal," Bud urged. "Our space chum's hardly had time to learn anysecrets yet. Besides, those Brungarian scientists are probably givinghim the once-over with all sorts of electronic doodads. Why risk sendinga message till he has something important to tell us?"
"That's true," Tom admitted.
Chow brought in breakfast. "You jest tie into these vittles, boss, an'stop frettin'," the cook said soothingly. "I reckon Ole Think Box won'tlet us down."
Tom sniffed the appetizing aroma of flapjacks and sausages. "Guessyou're right, Chow," he said with a chuckle.
As the boys ate hungrily, Tom's thoughts turned back to the problem ofhow to equip Exman with senses. He talked the project over with Bud.Most of his ideas were too technical for Bud to follow, but he listenedattentively. He knew the young inventor found it helpful to have a"sounding board" for his ideas.
"Too bad I didn't have time to tackle the job before Exman waskidnaped," Tom mused. "Think how much more he could learn with 'eyes'and 'ears'!"
"Stop crabbing," Bud joked. "Isn't an electronic spy with a brain likeEinstein's good enough?"
Mr. Swift arrived at the laboratory an hour or so later. He found Tomsetting up an experiment with a glass sphere to which were affixed sixpowerful electromagnets. Two shiny electrodes, with cables attached totheir outer ends, had also been molded into the glass. Bud was lookingon, wide-eyed.
Tom explained to his father that he had blown the sphere himself,following a formula adapted from the quartz glass used for view panelsin his space and undersea craft.
"What's it for, son?" Mr. Swift asked, after studying the setupcuriously.
"Don't laugh, Dad, but I'm trying to produce a brain of pure energy. Asubstitute for Exman, so we can go ahead with our sensing experiments."
Mr. Swift reacted with keen interest and offered to help. "But remember,son," he cautioned, "at best you can only hope to produce an ersatzbrain energy--which will be vastly different from the real thing. Don'tforget, Tom, the mind of a human being or any thinking inhabitant of ouruniverse is based on a divine soul. No scientist must ever deludehimself into thinking he can copy the work of our Creator."
"I know that, Dad," Tom said soberly. "Man's work will always be a crudegroping, compared to the miracles of Nature. All I'm hoping to come upwith here is a sort of stimulus-response unit that we can use fortesting any sensing apparatus we devise."
The two scientists plunged into work. First, a bank of delicate gaugeswas assembled to record precisely every electrical reaction that tookplace inside the sphere. Then Tom threw a switch, shooting a powerfulbolt of current across the electrodes. The field strength of theelectromagnets, controlled by rheostats, instantly shaped the chargeinto a glowing ball of fire!
"Wow! A real hothead!" Bud wisecracked, trying to hide his excitement.
Tom grinned as he twirled several knobs and checked the gauges. Theslightest variation in field strength triggered an instant response fromthe ball of energy. Mr. Swift tried exposi
ng it to radio and repelatronwaves. Each time the gauges showed a sensitive reaction.
"Looks as if we're in business, Dad!" Tom said jubilantly.
Bud left soon afterward as the two Swifts buckled down to work on theproblem of perfecting an apparatus to simulate the human senses. Eachconcentrated on a different line of approach.
At noon they broke off briefly for a lunch wheeled in by Chow. Thensilence settled again over the laboratory.
Tom had rigged up a jointed, clawlike mechanical arrangement withsensitive diaphragms in its "finger tips." The diaphragms were connectedto a transistorized circuit designed to modulate the field current tothe electromagnets.
Suddenly the young inventor looked up at his father with a glow oftriumph.
"Dad, I just got a reaction to my sense-of-touch experiment!"
Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X Page 18