Tom Swift and the Mystery Comet (13 page)

"Everyone’s a specialist these days."

Sandy begged to go along until her listeners begged her to stop begging. She and her luggage quickly became part of the working vacation.

Tom decided to include Bashalli Prandit as well. "We can use another skeptic, Bash," joked Tom over the phone.

She giggled. "Oho! Like a doctor’s second opinion! And no one can deny that I’m
not at all
reticent in my opinions."

"We’ll give you and San a couple days to tour Heidelberg while we fly south—unless you’d prefer hunting for buried monastic schools in the Bavarian Alps?"

"Please no, Thomas, serving endless slices of Bavarian Cream Pie has soured me on the entire region."

Under the pressure of time, preparations for the trip were completed in a matter of hours. As the great skyship was already parked on its airfield landing pad, it was decided that the flight crew and passengers would rendezvous at dusk, with Chow providing one of his colorful dinners aboard. After-dinner conversation came and went, and the more feminine members of the group retired to their comfortable staterooms.

Minutes later, Enterprises pilot Slim Davis at the controls, the
Queen
was spearing upward into the night sky on its jet lifters. Beyond Shopton, the craft rose from six thousand feet to their approved flight level, then gradually increased speed until they were streaking westward at almost Mach 2.

Presently Bud and Chow decided to hit their respective sacks in the crew bunkroom. Too energized to sleep, Tom joined Lett Monica and Dr. Feng in the viewlounge on the top deck, with its floor-to-ceiling panes. "I suspect that you Swifts live constantly in the midst of an adventure," the professor murmured. His goateed face wore a Buddha-like smile as he gazed out at the stars and the glowing scar that was Tarski, the mystery comet.

"It sure seems so, I must admit," Tom said with a grin. "Maybe that’s the difference between being an inventive tinkerer and what Dr. Sarcophagus calls a
real scientist.
"

"In that, he is a fool," grumbled Feng. "There are times when even sedate scholars are called upon to engage in derring-do. Yet it is true enough—such things are not easy at my time of life. Personally, I’m beginning to prefer a quieter—"

"I see I’m not the only one who can’t sleep!" came a vocal interruption as Randolph Sarkiewski appeared ominously in the doorway arch. "I thought I’d come forward to make observations on upper-atmospheric phenomena. Please don’t mind me and my big ears, hm?"

"Feel free to join us," said Feng in icy tones. "One must be hospitable to fellow journeyers."

As Sarkiewski plunked down in an anchored easy chair, Lett asked: "Tom, was that your telesampler machine that I noticed being loaded aboard?"

"Yep," replied the youth. "I plan―"

Dr. Sarcophagus broke in. "Is this the model that blows itself up? American technology’s most elaborate exploding cigar? Remind me to hold on to my glasses." He seemed to feel the tranquil conversation required a bracing dose of sarcasm.

"No," Tom forced himself to say politely. "It’s not the large space model you saw, but the small test prototype."

"The nice one that only draws bolts of lightning," Lett added carelessly. "So you repaired it, Skipper?"

"Arv Hanson reconstructed it, with some improvements. I plan to use it during our search in the mountains. Now that I’ve installed a small-scale version of the X-raser transmitron, we should be able to detect clues well below ground level."

Dr. Sarcophagus flashed a smug look. "Clues to a marvelous fortress of ancient occult wisdom from the Great Beyond. Lemme tell ya, Tom—if you actually manage to find anything,
I’ll
end up below ground level myself—from shock!"

The next morning when the girls awoke, the huge craft was already winging over France at supersonic speed. Soon after, Middle European time, the
Sky Queen
set down on a cleared field at Sembach, northwest of Heidelberg, as Enterprises had arranged. Chow Winkler served them a tasty brunch.

Slim volunteered to keep watch aboard the
Queen
, as he had visited the city previously. Tom’s group skimmed through the countryside toward the famous old university town in a rented touring van, large enough to comfortably accommodate the boys, the girls, Lett, Chow, and the two warring older men, who took care to sit far apart.

As they approached Heidelberg, Sandy and Bashalli were overwhelmed by the beauty of the scene. The town nestled on the River Neckar in a valley of the green-wooded Odenwald Mountains. Above it towered Heidelberg Castle. The river, which flowed westward into the Rhine plain, was spanned by picturesque bridges, with white-winged sailboats cruising on its placid blue surface.

Bash sighed over the view. "Oh, Thomas! Heidelberg must be the most romantic university town in the world! I have lived in several countries, but have seen nothing like this."

Dr. Feng smiled and nodded. "Many American writers, such as Washington Irving, Longfellow, and Mark Twain, have said the same, my dear."

Bud immediately began chortling a song from the famous Sigmund Romberg operetta
The Student Prince
. Sandy covered her ears. "Please! Let’s not get
that
romantic!"

Tom laughed. Bud protested with a gray-eyed wink, "Come on! It’s my kind of music!"

"Enchanting," remarked Lett. Bud and Tom noticed that he was gazing toward the girls, not the scenery. Each kept his thoughts to himself.

Nearer than the huddled red-slate roofs and old church spires rose a slender, modernistic tower. "That’s the Mengler skyscraper," Dr. Feng said. "This area to the north and west is the newer part of Heidelberg. We have many ardent preservationists in this wonderful old city, but alas, big new buildings always sprout up."

"Ye-aah," snorted Chow. "Same all over. They’re gonna turn th’ prairie back home into a blame parkin’ lot, an’ I don’t mean fer steers!"

Tom drove the van down an avenue running along the river, then headed on into the Hauptstrasse, or main street. The narrow thoroughfare, from the era of the horse and the hardy pedestrian, was crowded with traffic. Students whizzed by on motorcycles and motor scooters—even motorized skateboards.

"I see the ‘skate look’ is still fashionable," noted Bashalli. "Among the
younger
young inventors."

Dr. Feng deposited his luggage at his private lodgings, reserved for academics, and then directed Tom to his family residence in the city, introducing them all to his patiently stoic wife and eldest daughter.

Afterward, he guided the American and Brungarian visitors around the Old University and New University. The latter, he said, had been built partly with American funds. "Actually, compact little Heidelberg has no real campus. The University buildings are scattered all over town, on both sides of the river. What you see here are only a part of the whole university."

Feng told them Heidelberg had over twelve thousand students—many of them from foreign countries, including several hundred Americans. "And nearly half are now girls."

"Good—and phooey!" said Sandy. "There goes another romantic dream. I expected to see crowds of boys in uniforms marching around."

"You’re a few decades too late," Sarcophagus commented acidly. "There were plenty of marching boys in uniform here in the 1930’s. All over Germany, in fact."

In the ensuing silence, the skeptic eyed the pretty female students who lounged about the grassy courtyard of the New University with their books and friends and electronic necessities. "Oh well, who’s complaining?"

"
I
have no complaint," muttered Lett Monica cheerfully. Now Sandy and Bash noted the Brungarian’s admiring gleam cast in their direction.

"
Maybe
we should—park and walk around," Tom suggested uneasily. "Some of us only have a few hours to sightsee before we fly off."

Lett spoke up. "You know, genius boy, I wonder if my participation in your search is all that―"

"I consider it part of your training," stated the young inventor with polite insistence and a half-glance at Bud.

"Tomonomo, I
hope
this training of yours isn’t too
narrow
to be useful on Earth," Sandy said primly.

To which Bashalli added: "‘
If such narrowness be training, ’tis folly to be wise.
’ "

The girls giggled. The males wondered why.

Tom found an alley in which to park, and they began to tour on foot. Sandy and Bash were entranced as they strolled about the cobbled streets of the
Altstadt
, or Old Town, with its quaint baroque buildings. Dr. Feng showed his guests the ancient Gothic-style Church of the Holy Ghost. Then he glanced at his watch. "Perhaps it is time for some refreshment."

"Not much in th’ mood fer beer and sauerkraut," harrumphed Chow. "But mebbe they kin rustle somethin’ up fer a Texan."

The professor took the travelers to an old medieval-looking tavern, where they ordered sandwiches. The room was dark with smoke-stained oak beams. Musicians, a jazz combo, were playing at one end of the room.

"The typical student hangout," commented Dr. Sarcophagus. "You can smell it in the air, if you see what I mean. I give talks in places like this all the time."

"I don’t come to such places to
talk
, generally," Lethal Monica noted. "Guys, intellect is way overrated." He turned to Sandy and Bashalli. "Don’t you think so too, ladies?"

They only smiled, but Chow nodded in vigorous agreement. "Don’t hafta convince me o’
that
, son. That and mathy-matics."

Tom noticed a group of male students around one table. They wore small, narrow-visored fraternity caps and broad sashes of gold, silver, and black across their chests.

"They belong to one of the old student corps," Dr. Feng explained. "But nowadays such fraternities have gone rather out of fashion. Yet it endures. I’m told it is a protest against modernity."

"Against modernity. Ever considered joining, Feng?" needled Sarcophagus.

The group from Shopton sat along a large wooden table that had seen many an elbow in its time. As they ate, the two American girls drew admiring glances from the students. A tall, handsome young man, with close-cropped blond hair, seemed particularly taken with Sandy. "
Entzuckend
! Lovely!" he muttered aloud—loud enough to be heard across the room. Bud growled something under his breath.

Presently the student arose and came over to their table. Smiling, he made a quick heel-clicking bow and said to Sandy, "Visitors from America, I believe. If I am not too bold, perhaps the
gnädige fraulein
would care to dance?"

Sandy smiled up at him prettily. "I’d love to, but I wouldn’t know how to dance to that music."

"I shall teach you, mademoiselle. Or if you like, I shall have them play something more suited to your delicacy."

Bud jumped up from his chair—a tardy jump that required several nudges from Chow and Bashalli. "Sorry, pal, you’re too late. She’s dancing with me."

"No I’m not," corrected Sandy mischievously. She turned to the German and said, "This
boy
has been hanging around me all day. Bud is very sweet, but really—!"

"Miss Swift is with me," repeated Bud. "Go click your heels someplace else."

The student’s smile froze. "I was speaking to the
gnädige fraulein
. Shall we allow her to choose?"

"Sandra is quite adept at choosing," Bashalli remarked.

Bud reddened. "You heard me, buddy. Now if you’ll please march out of my way—"

Tom groaned. Realizing her joke had exceeded its bounds, Sandy smiled and murmured hastily, "Bud, please don’t be silly!"

Her remark only seemed to irritate Bud further. Stepping forward, he started to elbow the student aside. The young German curtly brushed his arm away. Bud, already at boiling point, mistook the gesture for an intended blow. His muscled fist lashed out and caught the student squarely on the jaw.

The German youth was knocked backward. He straightened up, eyes blazing. "You will pay for that
gemeiner flegel!
" he hissed at Bud.

"Aw now, mister," Chow fretted, "buddy boy here didn’t mean t’ break yer fleegle! Jest simmer down."

The man ignored Chow. "If you are not too much of a coward, we shall settle this quarrel with dueling sabers!"

"Any time you like!" Bud retorted to the student, who suddenly seemed taller than he had first appeared.

Tom sprang to his feet. "Good night, this has gone far enough! Nobody fights duels nowadays."

The student eyed Tom scornfully. "I can see that you know nothing about Heidelberg. Your companion has given unspeakable insult to me and to my family. Honor demands a response."

"It’s ridiculous!" Sandy insisted. "Please, Bud, can’t you just apologize to him?"

"Apologize?
He’s
the one who came barging over where he wasn’t wanted!"

The blond youth plucked a card out of a pocket and handed it to Bud. "I shall meet you at the
Grüne Jaeger
. It is an inn on the Neckar above Heidelberg. Anyone can direct you. Shall we say six o’clock?"

"Jest go ahead an’ do it, Bud!" urged Chow frantically. "If he wants ya t’say six o’clock,
say it!
"

The imperious student clicked his heels and bowed stiffly to Sandy and the others, then returned to his own table. Soon he was laughing and talking with his companions. The tavern owner, who had bustled forward, also shrugged and walked off.

Sandy seemed on the verge of tears. Bash tried to comfort her. Dr. Feng was the only one at Tom’s table who had remained completely calm. "Most unfortunate," he murmured.

"Good grief," Tom said. "This sort of thing doesn’t still go on in Heidelberg, does it?"

"Officially, dueling has been long forbidden," Feng replied, "yet duels still take place among fraternity students. The worst that results is usually a small facial scar. I think perhaps the young man would not have issued the challenge if he had recognized me as a member of the faculty."

"Or if his friends hadn’t observed this slur upon his well-guarded manhood," snorted Sarcophagus. "Same thing with you, Barclay. This is just what I mean—a preference for sentimental old rubbish instead of reason. Still infesting us in our new millennium."