Tom Swift in the Race to the Moon (11 page)

Breaking the connection, Tom activated the ship intercom. "Okay, buckle your seat belts, everybody," Tom said. "We’ll be using a strong acceleration for a time." Looking around him in the command deck compartment, he was glad to see that neither Anton Faber nor Evan Glennon seemed the slightest bit nervous at the prospect of spearing off into space. They appeared as calm as the others in the compartment—Tom, Bud, Sterling, Hanson, and Chow Winkler. "Everything all right?" Tom asked them.

Dr. Faber nodded and smiled, his keen gray eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. Evan Glennon beamed at the young skipper with jovial heartiness.
"Gad I ni fynd,
laddie! In other words, let’s go!"

Tom switched on the repelatrons again, taking a reading of the earth below. Watching the needles, the youthful astronaut fed power to the radiators. The mighty spaceship responded instantly, zooming away from Earth on a tangent with such a powerful acceleration that the crew were shoved deeply against their seat-cushioned. "Brand my stardust!" grumbled Chow. "Almost knocked my hat off!"

"It’ll only last for twenty minutes or so," Arv Hanson reassured him. "Then we start decelerating."

"This is how we make up for the time we’re spending on our stopover," added Tom.

Tom had made a decision to make a stop en route at Earth’s other moon, Nestria. He intended to take on board one further crew member whose knowledge of space biology and medicine might prove helpful.

Though the first period of acceleration made the passenger’s feel heavy as lead, they experienced no real discomfort. Still, Chow expressed relief when, at the midpoint of the trip to the tiny satellite, the acceleration eased away while Tom rotated the spaceship so that its "down" orientation now pointed away from the earth.

"Feel better now, cowpoke?" asked Arv.

"Sure do. I got more’n enough weight on me without—
awp!"
The feeling of pressure had abruptly resumed, sending Chow thudding back in his seat. "What in consarnation—?"

"I told you, Chow," commented Hanson with an innocent smile. "Now we go through the deceleration phase to counteract the speed we’ve picked up. You realize, don’t you, that deceleration generates as much G-force as acceleration?—just in the opposite direction."

"Sure," muttered the Texan sourly. "Any dang fool would know that!"

Soon enough the ship was in view of Nestria, and the repulsion thrust that was slowing them—reacting not only against the entire moonlet, but against several more distant celestial objects—was reduced almost to zero. The spherical asteroid, 41 miles in diameter and a dark auburn in color, loomed ahead. They were now more than 50,000 miles from their home world.

"Looks like a mighty rugged territory to live on," observed Dr. Glennon. "But what are those white patches I see? Not clouds—not in space, eh?"

"That’s just what they are, Doctor," explained Bud. "Tom has a couple machines down there that make air for Little Luna, enough to breathe. Clouds form just like they do back home. There’s even rain now and then!"

The
Challenger
made a half-circle about the satellite, scarcely needing its repelatrons due to Nestria’s almost negligible gravitational force. Finally Tom announced that they were nearing their immediate destination, the twin surface bases of Astra-Volkon and Base Galileo. These two installations, side by side, represented the Brungarian and American research teams, respectively.

"I wonder how the Brungarians down there will greet us," mused Hank as the dual space-towns grew larger before his eyes. "After all, we’re competing against their own countrymen."

Tom pointed out that the central government of Brungaria was officially unaware of the planned expedition of the Sentimentalists faction. "Or if they do know about it, they may not want to announce the fact. They probably find it a source of embarrassment."

The ship penetrated the shallow atmospheric envelope with ease, and settled down onto the craggy surface of Nestria on its four shock-absorbing landing struts. An enthusiastic delegation from both camps was on hand to greet Tom and Bud, in shirtsleeves, as they exited by way of the elevator, leaving the other passengers aboard.

"Welcome back to Little Luna!" shouted young Kent Rockland, bounding forward in the asteroid’s slight gravity to pump Tom’s hand.

"Wow!" exclaimed Bud. "Tom told me to expect changes up here, but you folks have really gone to town!"

When Tom had left Nestria along with the other Swift expeditioners, only three Americans had remained behind. In the ensuing period, a regular trade route had been opened up between the moonlet and the earth, with the Enterprises outpost in space as a way-station. Using small cargo capsules and spacecraft too fragile to return all the way to Earth, both the Brungarian and American settlements had grown rapidly as researchers from around the world had set up shop.

"Base Galileo now has a population of 43," declared Kent proudly, "with a baby on the way!"

"It is the same with Astra-Volkon," added a Brungarian. "Though with us,
two
babies!"

Tom and Bud could only afford a few minutes to walk through the base and inspect the cultivated patches where the Nestrians were beginning to grow their own food.

"I’ll take you to see Vi now," said Rockland. He led Tom and Bud to the small prefabricated enclosure that was home to Dr. Violet Wohl during her stay on Nestria. The vivacious Enterprises employee came bounding out to meet the visitors from Earth.

"Tom! Bud! I’m so excited by all this I can hardly talk!" she cried. "Henrick has been watching your new ship through his telescope during its approach." Dr. Henrick Jatczak, a world-famous astronomer and, now, permanent resident of Nestria, was a treasured friend of all of them.

"How’s he doing these days, Doc Vi?" Bud asked.

She laughed and pointed. "Take a look!" The frail, dark-haired scientists was ambling up the dirt path between structures, waving a vigorous greeting.

"I feel like a young man again!" he exclaimed heartily. "Under this low gravitation and with Violet’s attentive care, my heart problems are in remission."

"How wonderful!" Tom said, shaking the man’s hand warmly. "What’s new here at the base? New discoveries?"

Kent Rockland and Violet Wohl exchanged veiled glances. "There
is
something we need to report to you, Tom," said Kent quietly. "Not everyone knows about it just yet."

"What?" asked Tom worriedly. "Not a problem with the atmosphere-making machines?"

Kent shook his head. "No, something weird and possibly dangerous—a phantom figure!"

Tom’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. "What do you mean—
phantom?"

"A little walking figure, like a human but much too small," Wohl responded. "It wears some kind of protective garment with a helmet, and flees when anyone approaches."

As Tom’s and Bud’s mouths dropped open in amazement, Dr. Jatczak added: "I can quite understand your skepticism, you two. But I have seen this phantom myself, with my own eyes. It is my considered opinion that it can only be an extraterrestrial intelligent being, Tom—perhaps one of the beings who first moved this satellite into—"

Bud interrupted with a sudden startled cry. "G-good grief, look! There it is!"

Tom followed Bud’s gaze to a spot between two craggy boulders not thirty feet distant. He started violent at the sight that met his eyes.

Was he dreaming?

A tiny figure in a green spacesuit was making its way toward them!

THE BIZARRE figure moved with a hesitant waddling gait, as if uncertain whether to approach. Tom looked into the being’s eyes, visible through a slitlike helmet visor, and felt the hairs at the nape of his neck bristle. It gazed back at Tom questioningly through two black, beady eyes. There was no possibility that the creature was human. It was barely two feet tall, if that!

Suddenly Dr. Wohl darted forward, as if to seize the creature and protect the others. "Doc Vi!" Tom shouted in dismay.

She scooped the creature up in her two hands—and flipped up its opaque helmet.

The stranger proved to be a small, delicate rhesus monkey!

"Meet Nicky!" exclaimed Violet Wohl, cradling the tiny creature affectionately as the other inhabitants of Nestria shouted with laughter. "One of my test subjects for space medicine—and my favorite!" As Tom and Bud joined in the laughter, she added with a pleading look, "You
will
let me take him along on the moon ship, won’t you, Tom? See, we’ve already made him his own little space suit!"

"After that entrance, I wouldn’t turn him down!" Tom chuckled. "From here on he’s our ship’s new mascot."

"Cute little cuss," said Bud. "Here, let me hold him." Violet passed Nicky to Bud. Halfway there the monkey sprang out of her grasp and landed on Bud’s shoulder. "Hey! He likes me!" the copilot cried. But a second later he let out a surprised yelp as the monkey twisted his ear and started to climb over his head. Reaching up Bud tried to corner him, but his chattering quarry evidently thought of Bud’s head as a new kind of palm tree. The little monkey darted up and down, right and left across the geography of the athletic youth’s upper body, playing a fine game of keep-away.

Finally Dr. Wohl retrieved Nicky as the onlookers roared with laughter. "He’s really very sweet and docile," she said apologetically. "Most of the time!"

Bud pushed his dark hair back into place and grinned. "So am I."

"Most of the time!" Tom gibed.

Carrying a small suitcase and bag of medical instruments, and with her pet hugging her neck, Violet Wohl entered the
Challenger
and was shown around, introducing Nicky to the other expeditioners, who were delighted by their tiny new comrade.

"Brand my flyin’ chuck wagon," Chow gabbled excitedly, "I think I’m in love—more so’n with them there rats you had last time, Doc Vi! And this ship of Tom’s—this sure is some buckboard, ainnit!"

"Goodness, it surely is, Chow," she replied.

"Even our polar expedition seems pale by comparison," Dr. Faber added, a trifle breathlessly, as he shook hands. "But there are more fantastic moments to come for us, Doctor, I do believe!"

As Tom was showing Dr. Wohl to her private quarters, Arv Hanson’s voice blared over the ship intercom:
"Tom Swift, please report to the control deck!"

Tom rushed to comply, taking the interdeck ladder. "What’s up?" he asked Hanson, who had been on duty as command officer while Tom was off-ship.

"We just received an encrypted message from NATO headquarters, relaying a report from Cairo," Hanson said excitedly. "The radio-telescope at Al Qaddriz is tracking a moving signal-source in space, apparently on a lunar trajectory!"

"Deep-space radar tracking should have warned us!" Tom exclaimed.

"They must have radar-trapping capability. But look, chief!" The crewman pointed to the gleaming bank of monitors. "I’ve been able to isolate their signal and lock on."

A tiny blip of light was visible on one of the screens! Tom studied the digitized frequency readout beneath. "They’re surely not intending to emit this signal, Arv. It must be a byproduct of their propulsion system. Can you make out any more detail?" Tom asked.

Arv studied several dials and adjusted the signal filter for maximum strength. "She’s traveling fast," he reported.
"Very
fast, high constant acceleration." He brought up another set of figures and his face blanched. "Skipper!—They’ve already passed the 40,000-mile mark!"

"Swell," Tom grated. He grabbed up the intercom microphone. "Attention, everyone—assume liftoff stations. We’re departing immediately at high speed.
Destination moon!"

Even through the deck floor Tom thought he could hear Chow Winkler’s foghorn cheer!

"Da iawn!"
Evan Glennon cried. "Very good! And about time, lad!"

As the others strapped down, Tom Swift leapt to the intercom and barked out orders. A bustle of activity followed as Violet Wohl and the
Challenger
’s other passengers hastily donned their space suits, a precautionary measure for what promised to be a desperate sprint moonward. The sudden break in tension seemed to fill everyone with new vim and enthusiasm.

"Good luck, Tom," radioed Kent Rockland from Base Galileo.

"And from me as well," came the voice of Dr. Jatczak; "luck and Godspeed to you and Violet and all of you brave souls. How wish I were going with you!"

"If we make the moon safely, this won’t be our final voyage," Tom told him. "You’ll be on the next expedition, Doctor."

Helmets were clamped on, and Tom took his place in the flight compartment.

"Here goes!" he murmured.

As he fed power to the repelatrons, each unit was represented on the display before him as a point of light, glowing lines connecting the points to the repulsion targets at which they were aimed. The lines thickened and brightened as the computers tuned the emitting antennas more precisely. Tom made careful adjustments to the strength and angles of the force beams, not wanting to affect the rotation or orbit of the minute space rock that was Nestria. The
Challenger
began to rise.

Abruptly strange, woozy vibrations racked the huge spaceship, and it began drifting sideways toward the dome of the Astra-Volkon settlement. Hank Sterling exclaimed in alarm, "Tom! We’re—"

"I’m on it!" the young inventor shot back, tersely. His hands jumped about on the controls.

Bud uttered a moan of alarm—it appeared certain that the lower rails of the ship would strike the dome! But then his moan became a gasp as the ship took off like a comet, beaming its thrust broadly against the bulk of the moonlet. Sharing the motion of Nestria in her orbit, they had been hurtling along at a high velocity all along. Tom now directed the repelatron force in such a way that the ship left Little Luna’s orbit and started on a long, graceful curve toward her great elder sister in space.

As things settled down, Bud demanded: "What happened down there, skipper?"

"The Lunite in the force-emitters developed some sort of resonant feedback as they reacted against the Lunite veins in the crust," was Tom’s answer. "Wasn’t all that hard to compensate."