Tom Swift and His Spectromarine Selector (14 page)

BOOK: Tom Swift and His Spectromarine Selector
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"Somebody’s
popularity sure went south," Bud declared. "Maybe the king and queen were welcoming a foreign diplomat."

Fascinated, Tom moved along to other nearby murals. In each one, the apparent center of interest had been crudely obliterated. "It’s just where you’d expect to see the depiction of a person, or group of people," Tom pointed out. "But…" Suddenly the youth sucked in his breath.
"Bud!"

Bud ran to his side—and gasped. "I knew it! The space people!"

Next to the obliterated figure was the image of a strange object resembling a spacecraft!

"Tom, that sure looks a lot like the rocket capsule we recovered in the
Ocean Arrow!"
gaped George.

"It’s similar," Tom concurred. "But not identical. Look at these rounded edges. It’s also a little like something Bud and I encountered on the moon—a sort of flying saucer. We called it the Space Ark."

"But the source is the same, Tom!" cried Bud. "Way back when, Aurum City must’ve been visited by those aliens from Planet X!"

"We know they made at least one voyage to Earth centuries ago," Tom explained to Ham and George. "We found their symbols carved on some Mayan ruins in Mexico, telling how their spaceships had crashed and their exploration armada had died off. The inscriptions mentioned something—it was hard to understand—about ‘the preparers.’ They might have been referring to some much earlier voyage."

Tom added that he would put together an organized project to study the murals and inscriptions throughout Aurum City, aided by retroscope. "Right now, though, I suppose we’d better concentrate on fulfilling the provisions of our contract."

"You’re probably right," Bud conceded. "Miss Gabardine can be something of an
armada
all by herself!"

When the explorers emerged back onto the street it was nearing suppertime. Tom drove the spectrosel back to the
Fathomer,
the others following. A crowd had gathered in front of the mantacopter near Chow’s long dining table.

"Hi, everybody!" Tom called out cheerily. "Wait’ll you hear what we discovered!"

"We discovered something too, skipper," said Slim Davis. "That is, Lieutenant Fraser did."

Tom now realized that the faces of the crowd were glum. "What’s going on?"

Fraser stepped forward. "Look at this." The Navy man held in his hand a thick metal cylinder resembling a small thermos bottle. Its once-smooth surface was caked with rust.

"Where did you get this, Brian?"

Fraser gestured with a shoulder. "In the ruins, about a block in from the
Deepwing
. I saw the top sticking out between a couple fallen columns. I was just wandering around, relaxing before dinner. Not looking for anything in particular."

"What is it, pal?" Bud asked Tom.

The young inventor turned it over in his hand, silent. "Nothing ancient, certainly. This was machined by modern equipment. But
we
didn’t bring it here—the rust proves it."

"But what the hey, man, if
we
didn’t—" began Ham Teller. Then he stopped in dismay.

"Exactly," said Tom Swift very quietly. "Someone else brought it and left it in Aurum City years ago. And by international law, as I understand it, that would put our claim—and the legitimacy of this entire project—in doubt."

"In which case all this human effort and government funding will have been wasted," added Julienne Gabardine, as if compulsively.

Her pronouncement won her a Texas glare. "Jumpin’ Joe Jehoshaphat!" Chow muttered. Tom said nothing and tried to unscrew the top of the container. It wouldn’t budge.

"I’ll get the acetyline equipment," offered Hank Sterling, darting off toward the manta.

Bud and Chow stared in dismay at their young leader. The same thought ran through the minds of all the men and women. Tom felt sick with disappointment to think of the United States losing out after the efforts and hard work of himself and his crew!

A sound from Chow made Tom look up. To Tom’s bemused amazement the cook was glaring in pop-eyed fury at Brian Fraser, his round face turning red.

"You low-down sneakin’ traitor!"
the Texan bellowed. "I suppose you’re plumb happy that Uncle Sam may lose this city! Wa-aal, I’ll wipe that ornery smirk off your face!"

Lunging forward, Chow lashed his big rough-hewn fist square at Lieutenant Fraser’s jaw!

CHAPTER 17
A RUSTY CLAIM

CHOW’S powerful blow caught Lieutenant Fraser by surprise. He reeled backward, but recovered quickly, standing in mute astonishment as he rubbed his jaw.

"Chow!" gasped Slim Davis. "What in the world’s wrong with you?"

"
‘Wrong with me’
my panhandled belly-button!" snarled the cook. He whirled and faced Tom. "Boss, all along this here rattlesnake’s been stabbin’ us in th’ back right in front o’ our eyes!"

Tom stepped forward and put a calming hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Brian’s a US Navy officer, Chow."

"Sure enough, he’s got a blame yoonee-form with them little yeller fishes on it, but he’s a fake, jest like that Cromwell!"

"I take it you have evidence, Mr. Winkler," challenged Miss Gabardine, pen and notebook at ready.

"Sawr it with m’ own two Texas eyes, ma’am," he replied. "Y’see, I got to thinkin’ about the other day, that there chili-fungus attack. I brought out m’ kettle, then went back inside the sub to get me a ladle. When I got back to the table, Mr. Loo-tenant was already sittin’ down—first one. You know what, Tom? I’ll jest
betcha
what we started comin’ down with warn’t natural, but somethin’
he
put in the kettle, dee-liberate!"

Bud spoke up, defending the man he regarded as a friend. "Now come on, Chow, Brian came down with the infection too. In fact, his was the worst case."

Chow nodded. "Yeah, I know. That’s what threw me off, jest like it ’as supposed to! But I got my suspicions up, and I tried t’ keep an eye on him. Then, ’bout an hour ago, what do I see but Fraser come sneakin’ out o’ the sub, real fast, like he don’t want n’body to notice him. Went straight off into the ruins, over where he says he found that can. Shor didn’t look to me like he was wanderin’ around seein’ the sights, like he said!"

"So you think he planted the canister himself," Tom stated. When Chow nodded, the young inventor asked: "Did you actually see Brian carrying the canister?"

"Wa-aal, no," Chow admitted. "But it’s mighty small. He coulda been holdin’ it off on his other side, where I couldn’t see it."

Fraser suddenly smiled. "Maybe I could have—you know? It looks mighty suspicious, far as I’m concerned."

"Brian, come along with me and Bud," Tom ordered. "Oh—Chow, take the Lieutenant’s service revolver, please. Stash it some place."

"Now you’re talkin’, son."

With Brian between them, Tom and Bud walked away from the group, not speaking until they’d put in some safe distance.

"So how about it, Commander Swift?" asked the Navy man. "Think I’m the guilty party?"

"Chow can get a little excitable, Lieutenant," Tom responded. "But there’s nothing the matter with his eyes, and, no offense, he’s a good judge of character too. So what’s your side of the story? Do you dispute what he says he saw?"

"No, not a bit," was the answer. "But it’s what your man
didn’t
see that makes the difference!"

"What didn’t the cowpoke see?" asked Bud.

"Let’s tell it right," began Brian. "He’s correct—I
was
lying back there, because it all had to do with matters we’d agreed to keep confidential. No, I didn’t just amble down one of the streets and run across the canister. I was following someone."

"Centas?" was Tom’s easy guess.

"You got it. I saw him through the window of the
Deepwing;
I think he’d just left the
Supermanta
. He wasn’t walking through the open spaces between the mantas, but was skulking along half-hidden in the shadows of the ruins—that’s what caught my Navy eye. I waited until he’d turned down one of the streets, then went after him."

"Guess that’s when Chow saw you," Bud said, "right when you left the sub."

"Yes, and you can bet I was cruising along with all deliberate speed, because it looked to me like the Professor was carrying something."

Tom nodded. "The canister!"

"Couldn’t see it, unfortunately. Anyhow, I saw him turn into a courtyard area, just beyond where the spectrosel had stopped for the day. He was out of sight for about a minute. Then he reappeared, but it was easy to tell that whatever he’d been carrying was no longer with him."

"I get the picture," declared the young inventor angrily. "He planted that cylinder where it would be discovered by the work crew."

"Must’ve had it somewhere in his big suitcase the whole time," Bud added. He grinned at Fraser. "Man, I just knew you had an explanation!"

Brian chuckled. "And I wish Chow didn’t have such a big hard fist!"

"I’ll pull him aside and get you off the hook," promised Tom. "But now the question is, just what do we do? Centas could just deny our charges—all of them. We need real proof."

"I know," Brian said soberly. "You don’t accuse an internationally prominent scientist without having all your ducks in a row. And of course I didn’t actually
see
him carrying the canister. He could cry coincidence—though I, for one, don’t believe it."

"Believe
me,
genius boy here will come up with something!" proclaimed Bud proudly, squeezing Tom’s shoulder.

From the
Deepwing
Tom used the inter-ship communications system to speak to Chow in the galley of the
Fathomer,
thanking him for his alertness and explaining that Fraser had actually been carrying out a task Tom had given him. "Sort of a secret mission, pard—I couldn’t explain it in front of the crowd, and I can’t give you the details just yet. I’ll just spread the word that I investigated the matter and cleared him."

"Aw, brand my golden gloves, boss!" gulped the cook. "I shor did make a fool o’ myself! I jest hope Brian’ll accept an apology."

"He already has," Tom assured him. "But this whole thing’s a secret right now. Savvy?"

"Savvy!"

After supper, Tom turned his attention to the canister. The top was cut open, and the contents gently deposited on the dining table—a few pieces of golden bric-a-brac, and a rolled-up sheet of parchment. Tom held it up for the crowd of watchers to see. It was covered with a scrawl of writing, evidently from an ink pen.

"What’s it say, Tom?" called out Nina.

Tom scanned the document with a frown. It was written in some foreign language. "I’m afraid I can’t translate it, Nina," Tom murmured.

His voice sounded so glum and heavyhearted that Bud and Chow both looked at Tom. He returned their glance grimly.

"Gosh, skipper," Bud blurted out, "you’re not going to tell us you were right after all about someone finding Aurum City before us, are you?"

Tom shrugged unhappily. "Could be. This letter may even be an official claim to the city of gold by some explorer from another country. If so, our expedition is too late."

"I’m gonna bet it’s jest a big fake!" Chow exclaimed.

"Yes. But of course you thought the same thing about the Lieutenant," remarked Miss Gabardine coldly.

"Speaking of the Lieutenant," came Brian’s voice as he stepped nearer, "let me take a look at that. I’ve been trained in several European languages." Tom handed the parchment to him, and Fraser studied it keenly for a moment. "Well, folks, it’s in Kranjov, the language of Kranjovia." The officer paused. His eyes were grim and troubled.

"Bad news?" asked Hank Sterling.

Lieutenant Fraser nodded. "I’m afraid so. This was written by three submarine explorers from Kranjovia—" Gasps and groans drifted through the crowd. "I’ll read you what’s written here."

He proceeded to translate aloud:

WE, THE UNDERSIGNED, HAVE DISCOVERED THIS SUNKEN CITY AND HEREBY OFFICIALLY CLAIM IT FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF OUR BELOVED COUNTRY, THE DEMOCRATIC WORKERS REPUBLIC OF KRANJOVIA. WE HOPE TO RETURN SAFELY BY SUBMARINE TO OUR NATIVE LAND. BUT IF ANY ACCIDENT SHOULD BEFALL US, THIS LETTER WILL PROVE THAT WE WERE THE ORIGINAL DISCOVERERS OF THIS SITE. WE ARE CONFIDENT THAT ALL OTHER NATIONS WILL RESPECT KRANJOVIA’S PRIOR RIGHTS.

"It’s followed by three signatures, with the names printed beneath," Brian continued. "Fritz Branov, Yannos Gurr, Igor Jadenko, of Deep-Submersible XD-19, Serpentupol, Democratic Workers Republic of Kranjovia."

"Is it dated?" asked Slim Davis.

"August 8th of the year 1971." Fraser handed the paper back to Tom.

"Then… then it’s definite that our expedition is too late," Arv Hanson said falteringly after a moment of dead silence. "The United States can’t take over Aurum City?"

"I’m afraid not, Mr. Hanson" Miss Gabardine replied quietly. "Even if those explorers died before reporting their discovery, the only honorable thing our country can do is to acknowledge their claim."

George Braun gave a tight-lipped nod. "We can hardly expect foreign powers to respect other countries’ rights unless we do the same," he muttered. "But it sure goes against the grain to hand all this over to Kranjovia!"

Bud got up and paced angrily about the space in the middle of the crowd of dismayed expeditioners. "What a rotten break!" he gritted. "They hire a mob, steal a sub, attack our guys with torpedos—and they get the city of gold as a reward!"

"Of course, we haven’t yet authenticated the document," noted Fraser. Tom and Bud could tell that he was carefully avoiding a glance in Professor Centas’s direction. "If this is a phony, we might be able to prove it. It may have a giveaway in it."

Julienne Gabardine interrupted in surprise, "What do you mean? Are you suggesting the canister could have been planted here
after
our arrival?"

"I sure am—or at least some time after the discovery of the site by Tom, in the
Ocean Arrow."

Suddenly everyone turned to Tom, startled, as the young inventor barked out a laugh! "It
is
a phony! I can prove it!"

CHAPTER 18
CUT OFF

THE CROWD was thrilled—yet astonished.

BOOK: Tom Swift and His Spectromarine Selector
13.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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