Tom Swift in the Caves of Nuclear Fire (17 page)

A loud buzzing awoke Tom. "What is it?" he murmured, then suddenly snapped awake. The alarm from the gas detector in the cave!

He checked his wristwatch.
Right on schedule,
he said to himself.

When the group breakfasted in the morning they found the gray sky growing formidably dark. Strong winds began to raise huge whirlpools of dust across the open spaces, and the boughs of the taller trees began to claw one another like animals.

Menacing black clouds boiled overhead in the savage churning of the turbulent air. Drops of rain spattered against the tents.

"Maybe we ought to get out of this area completely!" Bud suggested. "No telling what may happen when rain gets into that crevice."

Agreeing, Tom drove the tank a good distance from the mountain but felt it best not to travel among the trees in the tropical storm. Within seconds, visibility outside the cabin was reduced to zero as a drapery of torrential rain descended. The wind exceeded gale force.

"Look at that lightning!" Bud cried out.

Suddenly, like a sinking ship, the vehicle began to list heavily to one side.

"Good freakin’ grief!" Craig cried. "We’re going to turn over!"

The occupants clung to their seats. The angle of the tilt became increasingly great.

"There must be a soft spot under our right tread-rings," said Tom.

"Start up this contraption!" Bud demanded. "Let’s pull out of here!"

"Trying to move her now," declared Tom, "might mire us deeper."

The words were hardly out of his mouth when the entire vehicle shuddered and the cabin glowed lividly with an eerie light.

"We’ve been struck!" yelled Bud. "We’re on fire!"

In a moment Bud’s fears were allayed. Though the bolt of lightning had struck very close to the terrasphere, the vehicle was not on fire. A nearby tree, however, had been seared from top to bottom.

"Whew!" Bud exclaimed. "I don’t want any more of those!"

Tom gave his friend a quizzical look. "Have you forgotten, chum, that this bus is impervious to fire—even lightning?"

Bud looked sheepish. "I sure had."

Despite the soft spot, the tank was slowly leveling itself again, and presently Tom was able to use the tread-rings safely.

"Ah, bless those gyro-supes of yours, Tom!" breathed Mandy Akwabo.

"What does Greek soup have t’do with anything?" demanded Chow.

"I believe our colleague is referring to the tank’s supergyros," Ry corrected the westerner. "Say, I wonder what the lightning and wind are doing to the tunnel opening?"

The young scientist wondered too. He hoped any accumulating or streaming rainwater would be absorbed or dispersed before reaching the subterranean pit.

To the intense relief of the occupants of the terrasphere tank, the storm showed signs of subsiding. The wind dwindled in velocity and the rain frittered away into scattered droplets. Suddenly the black thunderheads seemed to open up like a door, admitting slanting rays of yellow sunlight.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Tom.

Craig commented wryly, "So’s a leopard, Sci-Fi—and these sudden storms can be just as deadly."

After contacting the
Sky Queen
by radio and verifying with Doc Simpson that the storm had done no damage in that area, Tom returned to the great opening in the mountainside and prepared to reenter the earth.

This time Hank Sterling and Bud were left behind to keep watch, and Chow and Craig were included in the tank cabin.

"Brand my lightnin’ bugs, this place is lit up like Abilene on the fourth o’ July!" remarked Chow as he gazed out the cabin window at the passing tunnel wall.

"I believe the excess moisture in the air has increased the phosphorescence of the rock," was the Professor’s explanation.

As they arrived at their former stopping place and disembarked, Mandy commented to Tom, "Now we shall see how well the trolls and gnomes did their work."

"Take a look," Tom urged.

The group approached the point where the rock wall had stopped them before.

"What in the world happened here?" boggled Arv Hanson.

The rock barrier had vanished! The tunnel was now yawning wide before them!

"Ah, yes, I see," said Ry Cully with a glance at Tom. "Your hypothesis was correct."

"Explain it, boss!" Chow demanded.

"No black magic involved this time," replied Tom with a broad grin of triumph. "You see, the entire ‘plug’ filling the corridor was fresh rock that had fallen from the ceiling, and most of it had never been exposed to the antiproton gas. Unlike the rock in the walls, which is laced with Inertite—the gas disintegrated the unprotected parts aeons ago—the new rock was still vulnerable. The rush of gas through the hole made by the blaster was enough to dissolve it away." He pointed to the floor of the new passageway. "See that layer of powder? Inertite that was left behind."

"Inner tight?"
sputtered the Chow. "Oh, you mean that new paint you cooked up!"

"Yes, pard. It’s like Tomasite. The only difference is that Inertite is immune to antiprotons, whereas Tomasite is inert to gamma rays and alpha and beta particles."

Chow, completely bewildered by Tom’s explanation, scratched his head. "Don’t you bother runnin’ through the alphabet, Tom. I don’t savvy nothin’ ’bout them rays an’ things!" he snorted. "I’d ruther take my chances ridin’ one o’ them convict cow ponies."

"Convict cow ponies?" Tom asked. It was his turn to be puzzled.

"Sure!" Chow answered. "Them poor black an’ white critters with all the fancy stripes!"

"Oh, you mean a zebra!" Tom grinned and gave Chow an affectionate look.

"That antiproton gas is pretty dangerous!" commented Hanson, regarding the tunnel in awe. "Will it ever have any practical uses?"

"It’s only a matter of learning how to harness the gas," Tom declared. "Already I see the possibility of using it to form completely new isotopes. In fact, with it, I’ll be able to imitate the isotopes found in the rocket from space—the capsule we recovered from the Atlantic."

"Brand my pot covers!" cried out Chow. "What you talkin’ about—icy topes from Mars?"

The others laughed and Tom informed the Texan that he had already made some amazing discoveries about the gas. "It’s out of this world," he said with a wink at the others.

"What are you going to call this new gas?" Craig asked.

"Exploron," Tom replied.

Dressed in their antiradiation suits, the crew now hiked through the newly-open corridor, noting any spots that might be a tight squeeze for Terry. In a minute they had reached the far end, where the walls of the corridor funneled together, leaving only an opening the diameter of the lost earth blaster.

"This is it!" Tom announced. He tossed some of the white powder into the air, and it was immediately whisked through the opening.

"Can you widen the hole enough for Terry to get through?" asked Craig.

Tom shook his head. "She doesn’t have to—just her nose." He explained that he would widen the opening just enough for the crane boom and descent sphere to be able to pass through. "We’ll lower the cabin from there, while the tank section stays on this side."

As expected, this last layer of rock proved the toughest of all, requiring the use of special diamond-tipped tools from the tool locker. But after much slow and strenuous work, there was a sudden loud sound and several broad sections of rock suddenly cracked and tumbled forward out of sight with a whoosh of wind. "This time I’m glad to eat my words," said Tom, puzzled. "Looks like there’ll be plenty of room for the whole platform to enter after all!"

"A gift of Mother Nature!" said Mandy. She stepped closer to the opening, the edges of which were alive with trembling colors reflected from somewhere ahead and below. Suddenly she cried out in alarm as a segment of the floor, broad as a doorstep, suddenly cracked and tilted forward.

"Just back up slowly," directed Tom. "Don’t make any sudden moves. We’ll toss you a rope."

Suddenly Mandy shrieked as the fragment beneath her feet broke loose completely and slid toward the opening!
In an instant she had pitched over the edge and into empty space!

"No!"
cried Ry Cully.

But then a weak and wavering voice came to their ears by way of the inter-suit communicators. "I’m—I’m okay!" gasped Mandy. "I just slid a few yards down a slope, onto a ledge. But I don’t think I can climb up! And I’m not directly below—I slid at an angle, and I’m a dozen feet off to your left."

"We’ll lower a rope to you," said Tom. "We can put a weight on it and swing it to the side." But the project proved more difficult than expected. Putting any weight on the cable caused it to gouge into the lip of the opening, which in turn caused more rock to crack and crumble away; nor could anyone stand at the edge to guide it.

"You’ll have to drive the tank into the passage, then lower one of the cables from the crane arm!" Cully urged in frantic tones.

"We have to test the strength and composition of the rock," Tom replied, an expression of anguish in his eyes. "Otherwise the weight might cause the whole floor to shatter and collapse into the pit."

A change seemed to pass over Ry Cully’s face. Fear and dread were replaced by resolve. "Young man, this is absurd! Unreel one of the crane cables and hand me the end. I shall pass it through these loops on my suit and lower myself down to the ledge."

"Professor, I can’t allow—"

Cully cut him off. "There is no use arguing—I am
quite
intent! I weigh a good deal less than any of you other gentlemen, and I am the most logical choice for this task.
Now snap to it!"

Tom complied, and in less than a minute Ry Cully was lowering himself down the steep slope on the other side of the opening. Though the edge of rock above him was crumbling under his weight, he was able to nimbly step aside as pillow-sized boulders came bouncing down the slope. Pushing with his legs he swung his way over to Mandy and tied the free end of the cable to her suit; now both of them were strongly tethered.

"But what will you do now, Ryerson?" she asked. "If we put our combined weights on the cable, it will pull down the whole—"

"You will have to move in a very athletic manner, madam," said Cully. "You appear fit enough. And our ascent will be brief." He radioed Tom to back the tank away from the opening as rapidly as possible. Tom started the engines, then, giving Ry and Mandy a warning, threw Terry into reverse.

As the long cable yanked the two upward violently, they bounced twice against the slope, then cried out in pain as they were dragged over the edge of the opening, which was falling apart under the bite of the sliding cable. When Tom screeched Terry to a halt the two were a good twenty feet up the corridor away from the chasm—yet the floor had cracked and tumbled away almost to that very point.

"You are as brave as a warrior, Ry," breathed Mandy.

Ry seemed to like receiving the praise as much as Mandy liked giving it. "Why yes, I suppose so. And now I believe I’m going to—to faint!" He sat down but managed to retain consciousness.

Having ascertained that neither Mandy nor Ry had suffered any serious injury in their ordeal, Tom turned his attention to the walls and floor of the cave-end, trying to determine how far it would support the weight of the tank and sphere combination. He took a variety of samples and readings, proceeding methodically for more than two hours and studying the results in the passenger compartment.

"What’s the verdict?" asked Arv. "Did something counteract the hardening effect?"

"At the very end of the tunnel, the floor extends out onto a sort of overhang that is riddled with tiny holes—it looks like coral, in fact. The white Inertite-rich rock is just a thin crust over it, though it’s much thicker on the sides and above. With the gyros to stabilize the platform, we should be able to drive to within about eight feet of the edge without difficulty." He glanced at his wristwatch. "We’re within two hours of the next eruption, and I’d rather avoid that risk. Let’s go topside and return in the afternoon."

When they exited the mountain, Bud and Hank reported that all had been relatively quiet. "Not a creature was stirring, not even a wild boar," Bud quipped.

The expedition drove several miles away from the mountain, then lunched in the open without the antirad suits.

"Whoa, look’t that!" exclaimed Chow suddenly. A large zebra had stepped out of the bushes about twenty yards away.

"One of your convict cow ponies," said Craig.

"Wa-al, let’s jest see if’n he’s the friendly sort," said Chow with determination. He approached the beast, which backed away skittishly and then slowly approached again. Suddenly, to the surprise of his audience, Chow produced a length of stout cord from inside his suit pack.

"What’s he doing?" asked Arv.

"Don’t tell me he’s going to—" Tom murmured.

But he was! Chow made a loop and swung it like a lariat. In a moment he had lassoed the zebra by its vividly striped neck, and the animal was bucking violently in an attempt to escape.

"Charles, what you are doing is dangerous!" cried Mandelia. But if Chow heard the warning he ignored it. In another astonishing moment he had bounded up to the creature and thrown one plump leg over its drooping back.

"Yee-hah!"
cried Chow, waving an arm like a bronco buster.

"He’s nuts!" cried Bud. But the old cowpoke made such a droll sight on top of the struggling zebra—which was a few sizes smaller than a rodeo horse—that the watchers couldn’t help laughing and applauding as Chow was carried, violently jiggling, back and forth, in and out of the jungle.

"When you’ve had enough fun," Tom shouted, "we’ll get back to science!"

"Oh—I—I had me more’n enough fun—boss,"
Chow yelled in response.
"B-but this dang thing don’t s-seem to want t’ let me off!"
But finally he was able to make it back to the ground, though at some injury to both his dignity and his posterior anatomy. After working the rope noose off the zebra, Chow let the animal gallop way. It was obviously glad to be free of the antics of Chow’s peculiar species.

As the period of the latest eruption had passed by that time, the expedition returned to the mouth of the cave in the terrasphere tank.