Tom Swift and His Repelatron Skyway (18 page)

"I’m an American!"

"Then why do you protect them? Nothing can wipe away the sins of your ancestors—
Ghiddua
!"

The two sides closed in on Ted Spring like a vise. Yet he didn’t run. He stood his ground in the middle of the skyway, speaking briefly over the cellphone he had plucked from his pocket.

The front lines hesitated slightly, each side primed for something to trigger and all-out battle between them.

Then came yelps of terror. The hanging end of the segment of skyway had suddenly dipped toward the ground!

"Listen to me, listen!" Ted shouted at the top of his lungs. "You’re all putting too much weight on the road. The support force-beams are starting to give way!" There were screams, but a terrified chaos seemed about to take hold, Ted again gained both groups’ attention. "Don’t panic! We won’t fall if we all move back down the ramp—just start walking."

"But they will not let us pass!" cried a Ghiddua. "The Ulsusus stand in our way!"

"Nobody wants to die," declared Ted Spring. He turned toward the Ulsusus. "We all have to get down off the skyway—together, understand? You’ll have to back up, back to the beginning!"

"If we turn our backs, the Ghiddua will shoot us!" protested a young Ulsusu man.

Silence fell suddenly. "If there’s any shooting, I’ll be here in the middle. And whether I’m Ghiddua or Ulsusu or just a plain old American, that’s not much of a reward for trying to help you. Everybody, calm down and go!"

Ted’s calm words seemed to have weight of their own. One by one the Ulsusus turned and began to walk back, followed by Ted, followed, finally, by the Ghiddua.

As the crowds dispersed at the foot of the ramp, Tom and Bud trotted up to Ted, who stood watching breathlessly. "Guess it worked," declared Tom. "Smart idea, Ted."

"Well, T-man, I’ve been tangled up in wild crowds before," his friend replied. "I figured if I had you turn down the repelatrons a little― "

"The amount was just right, fortunately. Any more and there would have been real danger, not just a scare."

"It was a scare to the good," Bud Barclay put in. "Sometimes little stampedes can mean a lot!"

The last few days of the project were almost fun, as Tom skimmed along in the Workchopper—which had now acquired the name
Dinosoarer
—while Bud drove away the occasional nosy T-Rex with a hand-held, gunlike sound projector that functioned like the tower sirens. Sometimes the boys gave in to plaintive demands and allowed Akomo to enjoy playing harmless "hunter" of the biggest game of all. If Tom had any drifting thoughts about his next invention, which in time turned out to be his
Aquatomic Tracker
, he kept them stored at the back of his mind.

In less than a week, the fantastic repelatron skyway had been completed, beginning to end. Before the first of the cars were allowed onto the soaring ribbon, there was a "golden spike" ceremony at the midpoint where the two segments fused into one, high above Ngombia’s central swamp—soon to be home to something equally astonishing.

"The Eldreth Dinosaur Park probably will become Ngombia’s greatest tourist attraction," Tom remarked to Professor Eldreth, who had been invited to the ceremony along with Mbonga and many other notables.

"I care nothing for the tourists," Eldreth retorted. "Only the science—and protecting my reptilian offspring!"

The Wanguru shaman-chief had also been persuaded to show his manly courage by attending the elevated ceremony. "
Wo! Idán aràbàrà! M’yuduma na k’yi Tom Swift!
" he muttered.

Hearing his name, Tom asked little Akomo, standing next to him, what Nkoru had said. "Nothing much worth saying, sir-sir," the boy replied. "He says ‘Tom Swift make very strong magic’ like an ignorant jungle person.
That
is just
so
Wanguru!"