CHAPTER XV
KIDNAPED!
The message which Tom signaled in code over the electronic brain said:
WE HAVE A DANGEROUS PLAN. IF PLAN WORKS, YOU MAY BE EXPOSED TO ENEMY TAMPERING. WILL THIS BE SAFE? CAN YOU STAND THIS?
There was a tense pause. Then the signal bell rang on the machine andthe keys began to punch out a reply on tape:
NO ONE CAN ALTER THIS BRAIN NOR CAN THEY CHANGE ITS PURPOSE. THEY CAN ONLY DESTROY THE ENERGY HOLDER.
As Tom finished reading the message aloud, Chow gave a whoop of delightand the whole group burst into spontaneous cheers.
"Terrific, skipper!" Bud exclaimed, clapping his pal on the back. Theothers gathered around to add their congratulations.
Mr. Swift, beaming with pride, gave Tom a quick hand-squeeze. "It's anamazing achievement, son. And it may prove to be the key for unlockingthe secrets of space, if and when we have time for some research afterthis crisis is over."
"I sure hope so, Dad," Tom murmured. Though jubilant, the young inventorrealized that this was only the first step in his plan to checkmate theBrungarian rebels.
_The real perils still lay ahead!_
Tom called Harlan Ames and asked him to come to the laboratory for aconference. When the security chief arrived, he was as impressed as theothers with the way Tom was able to communicate with Exman.
"The problem now," Tom said, "is how do we have him kidnaped?"
Chow, wary as a coyote, offered his opinion that the safest way would bemerely to leave the space robot unguarded somewhere about the grounds ofEnterprises.
Ames shook his head. "Too obvious. They'd suspect a trap." Tom agreed.
"Wal, then, how about truckin' him along the highway hereabouts, as ifyou all were sendin' him down to Washington?"
This, too, was vetoed on the grounds that a shrewd espionage agent wouldguess that such a valuable prize would never be entrusted to a slow andvulnerable method of transport.
"Then what about an air flight?" Hank Sterling suggested.
"Brand my six-guns, that'd be jest beggin' to git yourself shot down!"Chow fumed.
"Not if we used a plane like the _Sky Queen_, equipped with jetlifters," Hank argued. "If any hijack planes jumped us, they'd have tolet us come down safely in order to get their hands on Exman. We couldland on the water or just hover while they made the transfer."
"And after they had it safe aboard their own plane, they'd blast yoursto smithereens!" Chow retorted.
Tom, too, thought a plane flight unwise, but for different reasons. Itmight look suspicious to the Brungarians after the Swifts had beenwarned by one aerial hijack attempt. Also, they might be deterred byfear of war, thinking that the United States Air Force would doubtlessbe alerted to the possibility of attack.
"So right," Ames agreed. After a thoughtful pause, he added, "Tom, whatabout transporting Exman by submarine? We know that every spy apparatusin this hemisphere is constantly trying to probe what goes on at FearingIsland, where our subs are based."
"No doubt about that," Tom conceded.
"So," Ames continued, "any move to Fearing would certainly make theBrungarian agents prick up their ears. Their own spy subs probably wouldcome prowling around the island and detect the departure of a Swift sub.And they might feel that an undersea hijack attempt would be a fairlysafe gamble."
The others looked thoughtful, then slowly nodded in agreement. Ames'sreasoning sounded highly logical.
"Tom, you'll insist on going, I suppose," Mr. Swift said somberly.
"Of course, Dad. After all, the kidnap plan was my own idea," Tomreplied. "Another thing I'll insist on is that you _don't_ go. We haveMother and Sandy to think of, and it's not right that both of us riskour necks."
Realizing that it was hopeless to dissuade his son, and realizing thebasic fairness of Tom's position, Mr. Swift did not argue. Bud, Hank,Chow, and Arv immediately volunteered to accompany the young inventor onhis dangerous mission.
Tom gratefully accepted their help. He asked all hands to assemble onthe Enterprises airfield at six the next morning for the flight toFearing.
After the others had left, Tom and his father resumed their experimentswith Exman. Mr. Swift suggested adding a device to the radio equipmentto make it disintegrate if tampered with. "Before those rebelBrungarians can learn the secret of your electronic spy."
"Good idea, Dad. And how about our doing the job with Swiftonium?" Thiswas an unusual radioactive ore which Tom had discovered in SouthAmerica.
Mr. Swift nodded as he began work.
Tom watched admiringly as his father reconstructed the radio, coatingthe entire thing with a Swiftonium compound. He at once placed the setin a small oven which he raised to 50 degrees centigrade.
"When this cools, the set will be stable," Mr. Swift said. "But if youshould move any part of it after it cools, all of the organic parts,like the circuit boards, the insulation, the carbon resistors, etc.,will oxidize and disappear as gas. You will not even be able to tamperwith a single unit."
"Wonderful, Dad," Tom murmured when the device was finished. "I wish Ihad your know-how in microchemistry."
"And I wish I had yours in electronics!" the elder scientist declaredwith a chuckle.
After Mr. Swift had installed the device in Exman's star head, Tom usedthe electronic brain to inform the robot about the whole scheme.
Both Tom Jr. and Tom Sr. were delighted when Exman showed realenthusiasm. It replied via the printed tape on the decoder:
DO NOT WORRY, MY FRIENDS. I WILL NOT RESPOND TO ANY ATTEMPTS BY BRUNGARIAN SCIENTISTS TO COMMUNICATE WITH ME. MY PLANET IS WELL AWARE OF THEIR DANGEROUS AIMS. HAVING CONQUERED YOUR WORLD, THEY WOULD NEXT INVADE SPACE.
"Looks as though Exman's got their number, all right!" Tom said withsatisfaction.
Early the next morning Mr. Swift drove Tom to the Enterprises airfieldto meet his friends. Hank Sterling, Bud, and Chow were already on hand,and Arv Hanson arrived a few moments later. Tom and Bud left the othersto bring Exman in a small panel truck.
Soon the space robot was safely loaded aboard a transport helicopter.The others took their places inside the cabin.
"Good luck, son!" Mr. Swift forced a smile as he gave Tom a partinghandshake.
"Don't worry, Dad. I'll be back soon!" Tom assured him. The nature ofthe trip had been described only vaguely to Mrs. Swift and Sandy inorder to keep them from worrying.
The short hop overwater to Fearing Island was soon completed. Lying justoff the Atlantic coast, Fearing had once been a barren, thumb-shapedexpanse of scrubgrass and sand dunes. Now it was the Swifts' top-secretrocket base, tightly guarded by drone planes and radar.
As the helicopter approached its destination, Tom radioed for clearance,then whirred down toward the landing field. The barracks, workshops, andlaunching area of the base lay spread out in full view. Cargo rocketsbristled on their launching pads, along with Tom's spaceships, includingthe mighty _Titan_, and the oddly shaped _Challenger_ and _CosmicSailer_.
North and south, the island was fringed with docks. Here the recoverytugs and fuel tankers were moored, as well as the Swifts' fleet ofundersea craft.
Tom had chosen a cargo-hauling jetmarine, named the _Swiftsure_. It wasa larger version of his original two-man jet sub, the _Ocean Dart_. Hehad given orders the night before to have it ready for sea by morning.
By jeep and truck, Tom's group sped across the island to the dock. Exmanwas quickly lowered aboard through the sub's hatch. The others followed,the conning-tower hatch was dogged shut, and soon the _Swiftsure_ wasgliding off into the shadowy blue-green depths.
"What's your sailing plan, skipper?" Hank Sterling inquired. Thequiet-spoken, square-jawed engineer stood beside Tom at the atomicturbine controls and looked out through the transparent nose of thejetmarine.
"Go slow. Give 'em plenty of chance to pick up our trail," Tom replied.
For two hours they cruised at moderate speed. Nothing happened.Disappointed, Tom surfaced
and radioed his father for news, aftercutting in the automatic scrambling device.
"You're in time for an exciting flash," Mr. Swift reported jubilantly.
"What is it, Dad?"
"An attempt to earthquake New York has just failed!"
Grins broke out on the faces of the crew as they heard Mr. Swift's wordscome over the loud-speaker. Bud let out a happy whoop.
"That's great, Dad!" Tom said. "Maybe we've got 'em licked on the quakefront. No luck so far, though, on our new project."
"Well, keep in touch and let me know at once if anything happens," Mr.Swift urged.
"Right, Dad!" Tom promised.
Again the _Swiftsure_ submerged. This time it was only a few minutesbefore Arv Hanson gave a cry of warning.
"Something on the sonarscope, skipper!"
Bud, Hank, and Chow hastily gathered around the scope to watch. The blipgrew larger rapidly. It was clearly another submarine, closing in on acollision course.
Tom put on a burst of speed, as if attempting to outrace their pursuer.But he was careful to gauge his knots by reports from the sonarscope, inorder not to widen the gap between the two craft. There seemed no dangerthat this would happen, although the _Swiftsure_ raced ahead faster andfaster. Still the enemy sub continued to close in like a maraudingshark, finally passing Tom's craft.
"Some baby!" Bud muttered respectfully.
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a missile streaked acrosstheir bow, in plain view through the _Swiftsure's_ transparent nose. Itsfoaming wake rocked the jetmarine.
"They're attacking us!" Bud cried out.
Tom slammed shut the turbine throttle, bringing his craft to a glidinghalt in the water. At the same time, he switched on the sonarphone.
"Orders to Swift sub!" a voice barked over the set. "Surface and heaveto! No tricks, or the next missile will not be across your bow!"
Tom blew his tanks and sent the _Swiftsure_ spearing upward. As theconning tower broke water, Tom and his men swarmed up on deck. Secondslater, a sleek gray enemy submarine knifed into view. Its hatch openedand several men climbed out.
To Tom's amazement, their leader was Samson Narko!
Chow let out a yelp of rage. "Why, you sneakin', double-dyed,bushwhackin' polecat!" the old Westerner bellowed. "We shoulda kept youhawg-tied, 'stead o' lettin' you go free!"
Narko ignored the outburst and raised a megaphone to his lips. "Handover your cargo and do it quickly!"
"What cargo?" Tom snapped back. "And what's the meaning of this outrage?You realize this is piracy?"
"I realize you will wind up on the bottom at the slightest show ofresistance!" Narko warned menacingly. "You know very well what cargoI refer to! Now do not try our patience!"
[Illustration (a submarine attacks the Swiftsure)]
Tom and his crew pretended to put up a blustering, indignant front. Chowwas especially convincing, with a blistering torrent of salty Texasinvectives.
Narko's only response was a barked-out order to his men in Brungarian.Quickly the enemy submarine maneuvered closer until the two craft werealmost chockablock. Narko and his men then leaped aboard the_Swiftsure_, armed with sub-machine guns and automatics.
"I'm warning you, Narko--" Tom began angrily. But Narko cut the younginventor short by a poke in his ribs with the gun muzzle, then issuedorders to two of his men to go below.
Moments later, Exman was being hauled up through the hatch andtransferred aboard the raider. The Americans glared in angry silence.
"Thanks so much, my stupid friends!" Narko taunted them with a jeeringlaugh. Then he followed his crewmen as the last one scrambled back tothe enemy submarine.
With laughs and waves, they disappeared into its conning tower. Thehatch was clamped shut and the raider promptly submerged.
Tom and his men were amazed, but delighted at not having been takenprisoner along with Exman. All of them broke into happy chuckles ofrelief.
"Wow! That's what I call fast service!" Bud exclaimed.
"It was sure a blamed sight easier'n I expected," Chow said. "Thoughtfer a while we might end up feedin' the fishes!"
"You put on a real act, Chow!" Tom said, clapping the stout old cook onthe back. "Well, they've taken the bait. Now let's hope it pays off--forus!"
The Americans swarmed below again, closed the hatch, and submerged. Tomtook his time in bringing the jet pumps up to speed. "Wonder if weshould pretend to proceed on course, or turn around and head for home?"he murmured to Hank.
Hank's reply was cut short by a yell from Hanson at the sonarphone.
"Missile coming, skipper! Straight at us!"