Tom Swift and His Ultrasonic Cycloplane (19 page)

"But I didn’t plant that skull, Tom!" Hedron exclaimed. "The Iwooro warriors did that on their own—it’s a native custom."

"Very charming," added Bartholdis.

"Hedron has many
bigger
problems than being lovesick," Tom said. "At any rate, we’ll have the national police authorities take charge of all of you."

Tom now turned his attention to the Iwooro warriors, who stood like statues waiting nearby. He asked Ed Longstreet to try communicating with them in a local dialect. But Ed had scarcely begun to speak when a tall, imposing figure, his chest covered in tattoos, stepped forward. "That is not necessary," he said in cultured English. "I speak your language. I am
k’hongtu,
or chief, of the Iwooro. I am Ahtumik."

Tom was pleased and amazed. "We had no idea any of you spoke English."

"It is our custom that the one who shall become chief leave the village for a time as a young man, to learn of the world," responded Chief Ahtumik. "I was educated in Australia."

"I want to assure you," said Doc Simpson, "that we will use our medical knowledge to free your warriors from the effect of the shock weapon."

"No, you will not," Ahtumik said. "The weapon was never used on them—only the village men that were used as slave labor. It was the threat to our wives and children that caused me to order them to assist these men. Of course, they obeyed me without question."

Tom was puzzled. "But when you saw us sneaking up on you, in the streets of the city—"

Ahtumik shook his head. "Did you think we would betray you to our enemies? I told these men to stand and be silent—and so they were."

Ed asked if the Iwooro knew the origin of the hidden city. "Of course," said the Chief. "Was it not our own ancestors who built it, many centuries ago? We have much to tell you of our history—and the judgment of the gods, which reduced our population from thousands to this handful you see. We call ourselves The Rememberers."

"We can learn much from you," said Tom.

"Yes," agreed Ahtumik. "The question is—
how much shall we choose to tell you?"

Tom and his expedition, and his prisoners, returned to the
Sky Queen
by means of the cycloplane and Strang’s hidden helicopter. After a stop in the capital of Papua New Guinea, the Flying Lab headed home to Shopton, the
SwiftStorm
safely housed in its aerial hangar.

A few days later, Tom came to visit Bud in Shopton Memorial Hospital, where the athletic young pilot was recovering nicely.

"Back so soon, genius boy?" Bud joked. "What is it, a new project to get me up on my feet?"

Tom laughed. He wasn’t quite ready to tell his pal that something new was indeed in the offing. It would plunge Tom into the undersea mountain mystery that would lead to an ingenious new invention—his
Deep-Sea Hydrodome.

"No, flyboy, not a project. Just a little something I owe you."

Tom counted into Bud’s outstretched hand nine copper pennies. "There, pal—the famous
nine cents change.
And I’d hold on to them if I were you. You never know when a penny might come in
real
handy!"