21 Jun 2009

Tom Swift Jr #35, Chapter 15: “You’ve Gone Too Far”

Posted by joncooper

“So what do we do now?” Irene asked.

“I think we need to make a trip out west,” Tom replied. “Now that we know what happened we need to find out who is responsible and bring them to justice.”

“Do you think it will even be possible?”

“Definitely,” Tom replied. “It would have taken a great deal of care and effort to poison the Tomasite, and there would only have been a few times in the production process where it would have even been possible. There aren’t many people who would have been at the right place and the right time. I think we can make a trip to the factory and get some good leads on who might have done it.”

“That’s true,” Irene said thoughtfully. “But even if we can’t prove who did it, we can at least show what really brought down the Eagle. That alone may be enough to get the nuclear hyperplane back in the air.”

“I’m afraid not,” Tom said glumly. “Our hyperplane will never fly again. To the public it doesn’t matter what destroyed the aircraft – they see it as a a flying bomb and they will never see it any differently. Xanthus found a great way to kill this project once and for all. I really have to hand it to him.”

Irene frowned. “So you think it was our Brungarian friend?”

“Who else?” Tom asked bitterly. “We know he was interested in the project – after all, he did send his men to come and steal my blueprints. Then once he had the plans he made sure that we could never use them ourselves. It was brilliant. Things couldn’t have gone better for him.”

Irene shook her head. “Maybe so, Tom, but we’ll get to the bottom of this. He will regret the day he decided to tangle with the Swifts! You just wait and see.”

Tom looked at her and smiled. “Thanks, Ace. You always have a way of making me feel better. I’m sure you’re right. But we had better be going – I think Dad’s already on his way to New York City. We need to get to the bottom of this before his nuclear power plant opens for business.”

“Don’t you think we should go ahead and tell him what we found?” she asked. “I mean, if we’re right then a lot of innocent lives could be in danger.”

Tom shook his head. “Not until we can know what happened. Right now we can’t prove anything. I mean, for all we know the poisoned Tomasite could have been the result of a faulty manufacturing process.”

“That seems really unlikely,” Irene pointed out.

“Sure, but it’s possible. Stranger things have happened. But besides that, we don’t have any evidence at all that Xanthus sabotaged Dad’s new power plant. It’s entirely possible that he only cared about the hyerplane. If I say something now and turn out to be wrong it’s only going to make things even worse. I’ve got to have an airtight case before I can go to Dad. Do you know how embarrassing it would be if he delayed the opening of the plant for what turned out to be a false alarm?”

“If you say so,” Irene said doubtfully.

Tom and Irene left the laboratory and walked to the airstrip. After securing a jet they took to the skies and began the short flight to the Tomasite factory in central California. Irene acted as pilot while Tom brooded.

At last Irene spoke up. “Don’t you think we should at least let Ned know we’re coming?” she asked.

Tom shook his head. “Ned’s not going to be there, Ace. I heard Dad say the two of them were traveling to New York City this morning. The opening ceremonies aren’t until tomorrow, but there was some sort of dinner tonight that the Governor was throwing in their honor.”

Irene frowned. “So we’re just going to land at the factory unannounced?”

Tom shrugged. “Why not? I’m a Swift, after all. Who is going to say anything?”

“I guess,” Irene replied. “I just don’t like it. It seems rude to arrive without calling first. Besides, do you realize that the only people in the whole world who know where we’re at are the flight controllers at Institute?”

“Word gets around,” Tom said off-handedly. “If someone wants to get in touch with us I’m sure they’ll find a way.”

Several hours later their private jet touched down at the airfield just outside the sprawling Tomasite plant. Tom was impressed with the size of the complex. The large compound was spread out over several square miles and filled with enormous building after enormous building, each dedicated to the production of different types of Tomasite. Tom knew that they were still severely back-ordered despite the plant’s enormous production capacity. It would be at least next year before they finally fulfilled all the orders that they already had, and more orders kept coming in all the time. The lightweight but immensely strong plastic was revolutionizing industry after industry.

After their plane had been safely stowed in the hangar Irene turned and looked at Tom. “All right, skipper, so we’re here. What’s the plan?”

Tom glanced around the area and pointed to a low building in the distance. “I’ve never been here before, but that building looks quite different from all the others. My hunch is that it’s the administrative building. Let’s head that way.”

Irene nodded. “Of course! They’ll have all the records. Only let’s not walk there, shall we?” The teenage girl walked over to a jeep that was parked outside the hangar and started it. Tom got in with an amused look on his face. “What?” the girl asked. “It does say ‘Property of Swift Construction Company’ on the side. Nobody will mind us borrowing it.”

“If you say so,” Tom said, grinning. Irene then floored the accelerator and the jeep shot across the plant. Tom grabbed at the door for support.

“I figured there was no time to waste,” Irene explained innocently. Tom shook his head but said nothing.

After the jeep reached the administrative building the two got out and walked inside. In the foyer was a desk with a receptionist. “May I help you?” she asked.

Tom spoke up. “I’m Tom Swift, and this is Irene Goddard. We’re here to inspect some production records. Could you point us in the right direction?”

The receptionist’s eyes lit up at the mention of the famous Swift name. “Of course,” she said brightly. She handed Tom a clipboard. “If you’ll sign in I’ll have someone direct you to the right place.”

Tom wrote his name and the current time on the clipboard and then handed it to Irene, who did the same. The receptionist then took the clipboard back from her and gave visitor badges to both of them. A moment later they were approached by a security guard.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet a Swift,” the guard said as he shook Tom’s hand. “I understand that you wish to see our production records?”

“That is correct,” Tom answered.

“Right this way,” the guard replied. He led them down a series of corridors and then into the basement. Once they had reached the lower level he led them down another corridor and up to a locked steel door that was labeled RECORDS. The guard then took out a keychain and unlocked the door for them.

“Everything you need should be in here,” the he said. When he opened the door Tom gasped. Beyond the door was an enormous room that stretched for hundreds of feet in all directions. Rows upon rows of filing cabinets filled the cavernous area. Bright lights hung from the ceiling but did little to dispel the gloom.

“Is there anything else I can do?” the guard asked.

“Thanks, but I think we’re good for now,” Irene replied.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” the guard said. The two teenagers then walked inside the room and shut the door behind them.

“Now let me see,” Tom muttered to himself. He walked up to the nearest filing cabinet and read the labels on the outside. “It looks like these are organized by date. We know more or less when the Tomasite for the Eagle was produced, so it’s just a matter of finding the right area and then going through the paperwork.”

“I can’t believe they’ve accumulated so many records so quickly,” Irene replied. “They haven’t been open that long!”

Tom laughed. “It’s not as bad as it seems. Most of these filing cabinets are empty. See?” he said, knocking on the nearest one as they walked by. It let out a hollow sound. “I think the ones we’re looking for are located in the back of the room.”

Tom and Irene began walking in that direction, scanning each cabinet for the right date. Irene eventually shook her head. “There has got to be a better way to do this, skipper. One day you need to invent a more modern way of storing massive amounts of information. This is such a pain.”

“Dad thinks they’ll eventually use electronic brains for this sort of thing,” Tom said vaguely, as he quickly read filing cabinet labels. “He says you’ll be able to access an entire library’s worth of data with the touch of a single button.”

“Oh, sure,” Irene remarked sarcastically. “And you’ll need an entire city to house the brain, and an army of engineers to keep it working. That will never work.”

“You could be right,” Tom agreed. He opened up a filing cabinet drawer and started going through it. “Man, but they produce a lot of Tomasite here,” he muttered to himself. “Irene, can you check that cabinet over there? I think this cabinet only has purchasing records. That one should have the production run details.”

Over the next half-hour the two combed through pages of documents. Eventually a picture started to emerge.

“There’s no doubt about it!” Tom said excitedly. He held up a typed document triumphantly. “Look at this! This is the formula that was used to produce the poisoned Tomasite, Ace. It’s been altered! The Tomasite wasn’t poisoned during the manufacturing process – it was poisoned before the run even started.”

“And the instructions were followed scrupulously,” Irene agreed. “I have here the purchase order for the raw materials, including the rare earth elements. And here are the confirmations that each shift followed the instructions to the letter.”

“They used our own efficiency against us,” Tom said wryly. “Xanthus knew that we were sticklers for detail and quality, and he used that to ensure the Tomasite was poisoned to perfection! I’m impressed.”

“But they made one mistake,” Irene replied. “There aren’t many people who could have altered the instructions. They must have been changed the moment they were received, or someone would have noticed the difference. That means we can limit the suspects to – ”

“Quiet,” Tom hissed. “Did you hear that?”

Footsteps were coming toward them!

Tom quickly gathered up the documents and stuffed them into his jacket, and then silently closed the filing cabinets. A moment later a man wearing a black suit appeared at the end of the hallway. As soon as he saw them he pulled out a gun and started firing!

Tom grabbed Irene and pulled her out of the way as bullets whizzed by. The two darted down another aisle of filing cabinets, desperately trying to stay out of the line of fire. Tom desperately tried to knock some cabinets over to slow the shooter down but they were too heavy to move.

“You can’t get away!” the armed assailant shouted. “I have the door covered.”

“What are we going to do?” Irene whispered, as they darted down another long corridor of cabinets.

“We’ve got to find a way to disable him!”

“But how?” Irene asked.

Tom heard another gunshot behind him. “Let’s split up. You go that way, away from the door, and I’ll draw his attention. I have an idea.”

“Be careful,” Irene pleaded, and then ran off. After listening for a moment Tom climbed on top of a filing cabinet and crouched down low. As Irene ran for cover he heard the assailant slowly making his way around the room.

Tom stopped breathing as the gunman walked right past the filing cabinets where he was hiding. At just the right moment Tom jumped on top of him, crushing him into the ground. The gun went off with a thunderous roar! The shock of the noise startled Tom, which allowed the gunman time to grab his jacket with one hand. Tom desperately wriggled out of it just as the gunman took aim with his weapon. He quickly smashed the attacker’s hand against a filing cabinet and the gun clattered to the floor. Before the gunman could react Tom kicked it out of reach.

His assailant glanced inside Tom’s jacket and saw that the incriminating evidence was still stuffed into an inner pocket. To Tom’s surprise he stuffed the jacket under one arm and bolted for the door. Tom ran over to the gun, picked it up, and shouted at Irene to follow him. Before they could reach him, however, the attacker ran out the door and disappeared.

“What just happened?” Irene said breathlessly as she reached Tom. “I heard gunshots! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, except he got away with our evidence,” Tom said curtly. He yanked open the door and ran into the hallway. It was deserted.

A moment later he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The security guard ran toward him with his gun drawn. “I heard gunshots,” he explained. “What’s going on?”

“An armed man just attacked us and ran out of here!” Tom said. “He must have ran right past you.”

“I didn’t see anyone,” the guard said. “What did he look like?”

“He was wearing a black suit with a dark blue tie, and had neatly-trimmed brown hair” Irene said. “He was about 5′ 10″ and was carrying Tom’s jacket. You couldn’t have missed him.”

“I guess I did see him after all,” the guard replied. “I thought he was an executive! He didn’t seem to be in a hurry so I didn’t give him a second look.”

The three of them ran upstairs and down the hallway to the building’s entrance. When they got outside they saw a jeep roaring toward the airfield at high speed. It was being driven by a distinguished-looking man in a suit. There were no other vehicles in sight.

“How are we going to follow him?” Tom asked anxiously.

“I’ll raise the alarm,” the guard said. “We’ll secure the area! He won’t be able to leave.”

“What should we do?” Irene asked, as the guard ran off to alert the rest of the plant’s security team.

Tom thought a moment. “Go downstairs and find the paperwork on Dad’s nuclear power plant. We need to find out if Xanthus sabotaged it as well. Meanwhile, I’ll stick around and accompany the guard when they go to apprehend the assailant. I’ve got to make sure he still has those papers on him! If he doesn’t then I’ll lead a team to search for them.”

“Good idea,” Irene replied. She walked back into the building and left Tom outside. He sat down on the front steps and waited for the guard to reappear. I can’t believe I let him escape with the evidence! Tom thought bitterly. I should have known Xanthus would station a lookout. I underestimated him yet again.

Tom’s thoughts were interrupted when a voice called out to him. “Hey! Tom!” He looked up and saw a big, bright-red pickup truck idling in front of the administrative building. The pickup had a camper built onto the rear of its body and sported California license plates. The driver’s window was rolled down and a teenage boy with short blond hair was leaning out of it. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Man, but your dad is fit to be tied.”

My dad?” Tom said uncertainly.

“Yeah. Did you know he’s here?”

Tom looked astonished. “Are you kidding? When did he get here? He’s supposed to be – ”

“Yeah, I know. Tell me about it,” the teenager replied. “But look. He wants to talk to you. As in right now. He is so not pleased.”

Tom sighed. “This just isn’t my day. Where is he?”

“Inside, in his office,” the teenager said.

“Thanks,” Tom replied. As he turned to leave the teenager called out to him once more. “Hey, have you seen Bud anywhere?”

“Not that I know of,” Tom replied hesitantly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. When I find him I’ll send him in as well. Your dad wants to see you both. But look – I’ll catch you later.” With that, he rolled up his window and drove off.

What on earth is Dad doing here? Tom wondered as he walked back inside the building. He smiled at the receptionist and asked her where his father’s office was located. After receiving precise directions he walked up to a small room in the back of the second floor. He hesitated just a moment to gather his nerves and then carefully knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a voice said. He nervously opened the door and walked inside. Sure enough, his father was sitting behind an empty metal desk, wearing a stern look. The room was very sparsely decorated. It had a desk, some chairs, and a filing cabinet, but little else. I guess Dad doesn’t come here often, Tom thought.

The young man sat down in front of the desk and looked at his father. “Um, so what are you doing here?” he asked hesitantly. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you.”

“I imagine not,” his father said. “Look, Tom. You’ve done a lot of crazy things in your life, but this one has got to top them all. Did you even stop to think through what you were doing?”

“Look, Dad, I’m sorry,” Tom replied. “I really am! I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way. And it’s not my fault. I was sabotaged, dad. Things would have gone fine if – ”

If doesn’t cut it this time,” his father said angrily. “You put the entire universe in danger! I know you’re hurting, but what right did you have to do something like that? This time you’ve gone too far.”

“Now wait just a minute,” Tom said. “I put the entire universe in danger? Don’t you think you’re overreacting just a little bit?”

“You know the risks just as well as I do!” his father snapped. “I’ve read those papers. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

“Last time?” Tom asked. “What are you talking about? The Eagle flew exactly one time. One time! I feel really bad about what happened to Mark, but at the very worst it could only have destroyed a single city. In what possible way could it have destroyed the universe?”

Tom’s father froze. “The Eagle?”

“Of course,” Tom replied. “I came here to prove that it crashed because its Tomasite shielding was sabotaged. And I did prove it. The man with the evidence is being rounded up by security as we speak. It wasn’t my fault. Xanthus was behind this. The whole thing was just a plot to kill the hyperplane project.”

“Oh,” Tom’s father replied. His expression instantly changed from anger to fear. “But – that doesn’t make any sense. Who sent you here? How is this possible?”

“A guy in a red pickup truck,” Tom replied. “I’d never seen him before.”

Tom Sr. quickly stood up. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I really am. I didn’t realize what was going on. Please, just go back to whatever you were doing. I really did not mean to interrupt.”

“What? I don’t understand,” Tom Jr. replied.

“You will in time,” Tom Sr. said. “I’m afraid I can’t explain now – there’s something urgent I have to do.”

“But – ”

“It’s ok,” his father said. “Just go ahead and finish. When you’re done, look for me in New York.” With that, his father left the office and closed the door behind him.

What was that all about? Tom wondered. As he stood up to leave the door opened again. This time a tall, well-build teenager stepped through the doorway. He was wearing a leather pilot’s jacket. As he entered the office he walked up to Tom and shook his hand. “Have we met before?” he asked.

“Not that I know of,” Tom replied. “I’m Tom Swift. And you are?”

“Bud Barclay,” he said. “A guy in a red pickup truck told me to meet your father here. So, what have I missed?”

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