Tom Swift on the Phantom Satellite (15 page)

"And listen, guys—we can’t let the boys from Brungaria get ahold of it!" Bud warned heatedly.

"Getting ahold of this object may be why they came to the satellite in the first place!" speculated Tom. "In any event, we’ve got to get to the
Titan
as quickly as possible!"

The explorers were half afraid that the cube-device would somehow prevent them from leaving. But their worries were unfounded. They arrived back at the derrick tank with no difficulty. "Okay, let’s get out of here!" Tom urged.

The foursome made good time on the last leg of their northward journey, though their impatience made the trip seem unbearable. But finally they came rumbling out of the hills and saw the base camp ahead, with the
Titan
towering serenely nearby and the atmosphere-making machine whirling away above.

"Look at that blue sky!" exclaimed Kent. "They’ve got an atmosphere established here too!"

"Wait’ll we tell them what we’ve found," Bud chortled. "I’m in the mood for another celebration dinner!"

But Tom spoke a word of caution. "Let’s stop here and get out," he said softly. The spaceship was still a good hundred yards distant. "Something’s wrong." He glanced toward the sun. "It’s only five o’clock, but—"

"Right, skipper," said Bud.
"Where is everybody?"

The base camp seemed deserted!

They exited the tank, removing their helmets slowly. The air was thin but good-smelling and easy to breathe. They began to trudge forward, looking about the ground, leg muscles tense and ready to run back to the waiting tank.

"I see no signs of struggle or attack," murmured Dr. Jatczak.

"Come in, Titan!"
Tom signaled repeatedly over his transiphone. No response! "They must be on board, but not wearing their spacesuits and away from the communications panel," he said, puzzled. As if to prove his statement, one of the wide freight hatches at the base of the ship suddenly flew open. Chow Winkler popped out like a cannonball and came bouncing toward them across the open space, arms waving. His was wearing an earthly costume—bluejeans, boots, and a western shirt.

"Come on, buckaroos! Get inside pronto!" he cried frantically.

"What’s wrong with the camp?" Bud demanded.

Chow pointed skyward and screeched,
"Look behind you!"

The boys whirled in alarm. Hovering overhead like some sinister bird of prey was a huge saucer-shaped object, bright yellow in color, topped by a low curving dome!

"Good Lord above!" Jatczak cried out. "A spaceship!"

"It’s your space friends, Tom!" Bud jabbered in a panic. "They must be mad because we disturbed their cave!"

"Spaceship nothing!" Tom retorted. "Listen—it’s a helicopter!"

"It’s them Brungarians!"
yelled Chow. "Now come on!"

Now they all could see that the saucer was held aloft by whirling chopper blades attached, not above the fuselage, but in a circular opening on the underside surrounded by the ring-shaped lower hull. As Chow spoke, small round panels flashed open on the inner wall of the lower fuselage. Three long, snakelike tubes whipped into view—metal tentacles of jointed segments, apparently motorized in some manner. Each tentacle was armed with a wide suction cup on its tip! As the saucer-copter approached, the tentacle tubes groped menacingly toward the Americans.

"Run!" Bud shouted.

The four travelers and Chow dashed for the safety of the
Titan,
but the rotund cook and frail Dr. Jatczak could not keep up with the others.

A scream of terror split the air!

Tom turned quickly. What he saw made his face blanch in horror. Firmly gripped on his broad back by one of the huge suction cups, a tentacle was hauling Chow up into the enemy ship!

AS CHOW was drawn into the dark opening beneath the enemy ship, Tom’s blood ran cold. Yet he was powerless to aid the faithful Texan.

Tom himself was wildly dodging the writhing tentacle that was aimed at him. No time to reach the
Titan
now! Jatczak and Kent, too, were ducking and weaving in a frantic attempt to evade capture. Heedless of his own safety, Bud sprinted back to help the frail astronomer. And now the third tentacle, having deposited Chow in the ship, came snaking down again in the direction of Bud Barclay!

At that moment Tom felt a strange vibration from his sidepack, and a tingling, electric feeling that seemed to penetrate right through his spacesuit. The cave rocks! In a panic Tom scooped them up out of the pack, raising them up in his gauntleted hands to toss them aside. But as he lifted them, they seemed to come alive, semi-transparent and glowing with a strange green fire.

There was a searing hiss, followed by a burst of light—not from the rocks, but from the grappler tentacles! To Tom’s utter astonishment, small sections of each tentacle vanished in puffs of smoke, completely disintegrated by some powerful force from the glowing rocks!

The severed ends of the tentacles convulsed, then fell limply to the ground in slow motion.

"Yahoo!"
Bud yelled in a frenzy of relief. "Give it to ’em, Tom! Blast ‘em, boy!"

Impulsively, Tom started to lift the rocks toward the Brungarian saucer, as if aiming them. But suddenly he checked himself. If he should destroy the enemy craft, war on Earth might result. And besides, he suddenly remembered, Chow was a captive in the saucer. His life could not be jeopardized.

As Tom hesitated, the useless stumps of the tentacles were withdrawn into the craft. With a rumble of concealed jets the saucer-copter soared off across the dark blue-gray sky and vanished behind the mountains.

Bud was disappointed and angry. "Why’d you let them get away, Tom? We had them!" But when he saw the anguish on his friend’s face, he apologized.

The other expeditioners now cautiously emerged from the spaceship. Unsurprisingly, Jason Graves was indignant that Tom had not started a shooting war with the Brungarian saucer. But when Tom explained, he grudgingly admitted that his young commander was right.

"We’ll save Chow some other way," Tom declared, gritting his teeth, and the others nodded vigorously.

Kent spoke up. "I still don’t savvy what happened, Tom, but those little marvels sure saved us!" The two rock fragments had ceased glowing and again seemed inert and harmless.

Tom admitted that he was completely baffled. "It seems impossible, but I have to wonder if, somehow, our space friends are monitoring us here and took control of those rocks themselves, to protect us."

"I see nothing impossible in that, Tom," declared Jatczak. "We must open our minds to incredible things. Consider this: perhaps the entire asteroid is functioning as a
super-computer,
energized by the cube device!"

"Good grief!" burst out Gabe. "That’s a thought!"

"Here’s one more," added Hank. "Tom, do you remember what happened when we tried to retrieve that specimen missile from the Atlantic?" He was referring to the recent operation involving Tom’s diving seacopter.

"Sure," said Tom. "Dad’s suction lifter blew a fuse, but we snagged the missile with cables."

Bud finished the account. "The metal cables started fizzing where they touched the rocket hull and the hull broke apart."

Hank nodded excitedly. "Right! First an electrical anomaly—then a disintegration effect!"

Tom snapped his gloved fingers. "And that’s what happened here, too—something similar, at least." He looked again at the two rocks in his hands. "The space people may use this substance as a key part of their technology. By studying it, we may be able to make it work for us!"

There was a confused babble of speculation. Then Hank said, "All of this reminds me—your Dad transmitted a long message to us while you were traveling, Tom. I haven’t gone over it, but I think he’s been able to translate those space symbols."

"All this future-minded speculation is well and good," said Graves hotly, "but may I remind you, one of our crew has been taken prisoner!" He turned to Jess Northrup. "Colonel, you represent the United States government here. I demand that you take action!"

"You do, do you? What do you have in mind, Jake?" Northrup seemed to smirk at Graves.

"Tom Swift is in charge," said Dr. Kutan in his customary calm voice. "I suggest we all allow him to consider the situation in an unhurried manner. A great deal depends upon his decisions, not only here on this satellite, but on Earth as well."

Gabe flashed a picture. "I’ll caption this one,
The Moment of Decision!"

"For the moment, let’s return to the ship," Tom said.

As they walked Bud asked Tom for his opinion about the strange saucer-craft. "Do you suppose that’s their spaceship, with chopper blades added on somehow?"

"I don’t think so," he replied. "It’s much too small for the size of the crew they seem to have brought, and I don’t see any indication of a real space propulsion system. My guess is, it’s some kind of exploration craft they brought with them, just as we brought the tanks. They may have planned to use that grappler-arm setup for rock samples."

"Or to steal the gravity device from us!" Bud retorted. "In any event, they must’ve been counting on you to create an atmosphere here. Mirov probably decided to bring the saucer when he learned through his spies what your plans were."

"Right. It’s clear they had early intelligence on the atmos-maker."

"One positive thing, though," Hank put in. "Since the air doesn’t extend up very far, that chopper-saucer won’t be as useful to them as they probably hoped. They’ll have to maneuver around the hills and mountains, just as if they were traveling on the ground."

Col. Northrup, meanwhile, told how the Brungarian craft had been sighted just a few minutes before the tank had arrived. It had made a series of low passes, trying to grab personnel off the ground, but had skulked away when the American crew fled into the
Titan
for safety. "Mirov’s turning out to be a pretty crafty Joe, Tommy."

Inside the ship the crew showered Tom and the others with questions about their strange finds. Despite Tom’s cautious replies, his own brain was seething with wild speculations. Obviously the cube possessed tremendous power. But what kind of power; power for what purpose? How was it controlled? Above all, why had the space people left it in the cave?

"Alright, Swift, you’ve had time to think. What about Winkler?" Graves asked in a booming voice.

"I’m not forgetting him," Tom replied, grimfaced. "There’s not much we
can
do, except wait."

"Wait!" Bud exclaimed, eager for action.

"I’m sure we’ll hear from the Brungarians," Tom said coolly. "They’ll probably hold Chow as a hostage and try to make us—"

Skree-e-e-e!
Tom’s words were drowned out by the shrill whine of a jet engine. Every head jerked upward as a silver blur streaked over the camp to a crash landing close by.

"Another message!" Bud cried out. He started forward until Tom commanded: "All of you stay here while I run a check. It may be explosive!"

After determining that the missile was not armed, Tom left the
Titan.
Dashing to the spot, he found that this was a much smaller projectile, the sort that could be launched from the saucer craft. But as before, inside was a tube containing a note. Tom beckoned the other members of his expedition to come forward. As they gathered around him, he read aloud:

TOM SWIFT, U.S. COMMANDER:

LEAVE THIS SATELLITE WITH THE ENTIRE PIRATE FORCE WITHIN IN ONE HOUR, OR THE MAN WE TOOK PRISONER WILL BE EXECUTED. IF YOU OBEY, WE DECLARE THAT HE WILL BE RETURNED TO THE EARTH IN OUR SPACE VEHICLE UNHARMED. IF YOU CHOOSE FURTHER AGGRESSIVE TACTICS, WE CANNOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN CONSEQUENCE. REPLY IMMEDIATELY ON THE WAVELENGTH STATED HEREIN.

A communications frequency was written at the bottom of the sheet above the signature of Streffan Mirov.

"Those skunks!"
Bud exploded, clenching his fists.

"Never mind all that!" Graves cut in. "What do we do now—clear out like a lot of whipped dogs and not even put up a protest?"

"Not on your life!" Tom snapped. He paced up and down, running his fingers through his blond crew cut. His brows were puckered in deep

thought.

"Mind if I float a little idea?" asked Northrup.

Tom looked at him and waited.

"I’m a bigger fish than our cook," he continued. "Let’s say we offered to make ’em a trade—me for Chow. We get Chow back, they get a better hostage, and just maybe I can use the authority of these stars on my chest to get Mirov talking."

"It’s a standard response in such situations," was Kutan’s opinion. "It may well prove effective."

"You’re a courageous man, Colonel!" exclaimed Graves. "An American hero!"

Tom nodded without enthusiasm. "I’m willing to make the offer and see how Mirov responds." He went to the communications control panel and tuned the radio to the frequency indicated. "Commander Mirov, this is Tom Swift. I am replying to your message."

As there was no response, Tom repeated the message several times.

"Maybe he doesn’t realize the terrain will block the signal," speculated Rafe.

"Naw, they’d have to’ve figgered that out by now," Northrup proclaimed. "Just give him a chance to find a good clear line of sight."

A voice finally erupted from the speaker, almost inaudible in a storm of static.
"This is Mirov. What do you have to say to me?"

Tom outlined Northrup’s proposal. He was somewhat surprised when Mirov answered almost immediately with,
"We accept this plan. Have Colonel Northrup drive to our base in one of your small vehicles. When we have him, I will authorize one of my officers to release the prisoner near your camp. Any sign of hostility toward our aircraft will mean—"
But the rest was lost to static.

"I can guess," muttered Tom.

"Time to go," Northrup said. "I remember the way." He shook hands all around and headed for the airlock. Minutes later, in one of the smaller tractor-tanks, he had disappeared around one of the rugged hills that ringed the small valley.

Tom glanced at the clock. "It’ll take Northrup several hours to arrive at the Brungarian base. I don’t imagine we’ll see Chow before sundown—maybe not until after daybreak tomorrow."