Tom Swift Jr #35, Chapter 17: Critical Mass

“I think that went rather well!” Ned Newton remarked to his friend Tom Swift Sr.

Tom nodded absently. The two men had been in New York City all day and had spent the evening at the Ritz Carlton hotel, attending a celebration hosted by the state governor. Dignitaries from all over the country had flown in to attend the black-tie affair. Everyone wanted to be at the invitation-only event to wonder at the latest miracle from Swift Enterprises. The following day would see the opening of the world’s first commercial nuclear power plant, and Tom Swift Sr. himself would be there to bring online his greatest invention. Even for Swift Enterprises this was a bold step into the future.

The press had been talking about the new power plant for days, running stories about the wonder of the atomic age and the grand promise of cheap, clean electricity that was now just around the corner. The coverage had finally pushed from the headlines all mention of his son’s accident with the hyperplane, a fact that still weighed heavy on his mind.

“I wish my son had been here,” Tom said at last, as the two men left the hotel and walked into the street. A doorman called a cab for them, and the two were soon on their way to another five-star hotel just down the road.

“Did you remember to invite him?” Ned asked.

Tom smiled wryly. “I did indeed, but he was not interested in coming. From what I could gather he is still very upset over the hyperplane. He definitely took its failure personally, and I really don’t blame him. I would be upset too.”

“You did what you had to,” Ned replied, sighing. “It was really unfortunate, especially since the Falcon was such a success. We actually had customers lined up to purchase as many of them as we could produce. I don’t even want to think about how much money we lost on that when the government forced us to cancel the product! Maybe we can revisit it one day, but right now the world just isn’t ready.”

“Perhaps,” Tom said. “But what if Irene was right? What if we did just give up too easily? Never before in the history of Swift Enterprises have we canceled a project due to public pressure. My son may have been able to perfect the jet if we had just given him time.”

“Everyone has a failure at some point,” Ned replied. “What matters is how you deal with them. Tom just needs to move past it and work on something else. After all, he’s got his whole life ahead of him.”

The cab stopped and the two men got out and walked into the hotel. When they entered the lobby a man behind the counter called out. “Mr. Swift!”

“Yes?” Tom replied as he walked over to the hotel manager.

“We have a message for you. A call came in several hours ago.” He handed Tom a sheet of paper.

“What is it?” Ned asked curiously.

“A message from your California plant,” Tom said, frowning. “Someone there wants me to go over my Tomasite formula. Apparently they’re concerned about it.”

“Oh?” Ned said. “Should I be worried?”

“I don’t think so,” Tom replied, as he folded the message and placed it in his pocket. “Whatever it is can wait until I get back to the Institute. For the next few days I’m going to be right here monitoring the operation of my new power plant, and I don’t need anything to distract me from that.” Tom thanked the manager, told Ned goodnight, and went up to his room.

The next day Tom got up early, had a quick breakfast at the hotel with Ned, and then headed out to the plant. Ned had some business to take care of but he was still able to show up several hours later. The plant was located on a long, narrow island just off the coast of the great American city. When Ned arrived he saw that people and vehicles were everywhere and a sizable crowd had gathered just outside the gate. As he went through security and entered the grounds he noticed that the press were already being admitted even though the actual opening ceremony was still an hour away.

Ned found Tom in the control room. To his surprise he was not giving orders but simply standing to one side and watching his employees operate with smooth efficiency.

Ned walked over to him and nodded in approval. “It looks like everything is going well.”

“It is,” Tom remarked. “The truth is we’ve been producing power since yesterday morning. It takes a lot of time to bring a reactor online. What will happen in an hour is that the power will start flowing into the city’s power grid.”

Ned grinned. “I’m pretty sure that fact is lost on the public! They seem to have this idea that at the stroke of noon you’ll push a button and everything will start humming right then.”

“With sparks flying and the crash of thunder reverberating across the landscape,” Tom grumbled. “That’s reporting for you, I suppose. But what can you do?”

“Is there any way I can help?” Ned asked.

His friend shook his head. “At this point there isn’t even anything I can do. I think everything is in place. The event itself should go very smoothly.”

Tom proved himself right. Just before noon a large crowd of reporters and dignitaries gathered in a cordoned-off section of the control room, and they watched anxiously as Tom activated a switch. Power began flowing from the plant’s reactor into the city’s power grid. When Tom announced that the plant had been brought online successfully there were cheers, and reporters began taking pictures and asking questions.

It was three hours later when security finally escorted the last reporter out of the plant. After he left an exhausted Tom sank down in a chair. Ned looked at him with a slight smile. “You never were a publicity hound.”

“It runs in the family,” Tom said, sighing. “Next time I should let our publicity department handle this.”

“I don’t think that will ever work,” Ned replied, laughing. “The press demands their famous inventor! Nothing less will do. So what are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to head to my office and get some peace and quiet. What about you?”

Ned shrugged. “I think my work here is done, old friend. If you have no objections I’ll leave the plant in your capable hands and head back home.”

Tom bade his friend goodbye and headed into his office. Once there he sat down behind his desk, took out a sheaf of papers from a drawer, and placed them on the desk. Instead of poring over them, however, he leaned back in his chair and fell asleep.

Several hours later something jolted him awake. When he opened his eyes he saw a well-dressed man sitting peacefully in a chair in front of his desk. As soon as Tom saw him a chill ran down his spine.

“May I help you?” Tom asked.

“Oh no, my friend,” the man said with a slight smile. “You have already done quite enough. It is I who am hear to help you.”

“Thanks, but I don’t need any help right now.”

“Oh, but you do!” the man said earnestly. “You do. Things have been out of balance for a very long time, and I have come to make them right again. It is time.”

Tom frowned. “Have we met before?”

The man shook his head. “I have not had that privilege, I am afraid, although you have done so much to make me who I am today. But I have had the honor of meeting your son.” He removed a business card from the inner pocket of his suit and handed it to Tom.

The middle-aged inventor looked at it and gasped. “Xanthus!”

“In the flesh,” Xanthus said agreeably. “Truly, this is a moment I have been waiting for all my life. It is the culmination of a dream.”

Tom rose out of his chair, but Xanthus waved him back. “Do not attempt anything foolish, my friend. I may look harmless but I assure you I am armed. Even if you got past me, however, there is my man just outside.”

“How is this possible?” Tom asked, as he sat back down in his chair.

“Many things are possible when one is sufficiently motivated,” Xanthus remarked. “A fact that you yourself know.”

“My son said you had an Eastern European accent,” Tom said. “But that’s not what I’m hearing.”

Xanthus smiled. “I can have one of any number of accents when it suits me. But perhaps I should explain what I am doing. I know you must have many questions for me.”

“Not really. I do think you should leave before security finds out you’re here. Things could get ugly.”

“Ah, security! They will not intrude on the Great Man himself while he rests in his office. No, my friend, they will leave you in peace.”

Tom sighed. “So what do you want? You’ve already stolen the plans for my plastic, my reactor, and my son’s jet. What else his there?”

“Bah!” Xanthus shook his head. “I wanted none of those things. I merely stole them so the Brungarians would not guess my true purpose. They are hateful, the Brungarians, but they have their uses. As long as I gave them what they needed they were quite helpful indeed. They provided all the resources I required so I could at last bring balance.”

“I knew it!” Tom replied accusingly. “The moment I saw that wooden warning you left in my office I knew exactly what was going on. Talcap is unmistakable. I would have recognized it anywhere.”

Xanthus nodded. “Exactly. I am not a Brungarian at all. I am a Haargolander. I left the piece of talcap so you would know I was coming. You cannot say I did not warn you.”

“But that was not my fault! I had nothing to do with it.”

Xanthus leaned forward. “Oh, but what happened in my country was very much your fault. You wanted wood for your Ocean Airport, and of all the trees in the entire world you decided that only talcap wood from Haargoland would suit you. So what did you do? Do you even still remember?”

“Your government wouldn’t sell it,” Tom argued. “I had little choice.”

“Not selling it was our right,” Xanthus shot back. “Why should anyone be forced to sell merely because you wanted to buy? Did you inquire to find out why my country was not interested in selling? Or, perhaps, did you investigate to see if talcap could be obtained from other countries? Or maybe you could have obtained some seedlings and grown your own. Did you do that?”

Tom was silent, so Xanthus continued. “Oh no, my friend. You did not. No, what you did was finance a revolution to overthrow the legitimate government of a sovereign nation, so that you could put into power people who were more sympathetic to your ends. That is what you did.”

“I was told there would be no bloodshed!” Tom said angrily. “What happened was not my fault.”

Xanthus looked at him bitterly. “Did you think we would not fight when a foreign power tried to seize control over our nation? Were you expecting us to go willingly as our families became slaves to a dictator? What exactly were you expecting, Mr. Swift? That you could simply do whatever you wanted and there would be no consequences? After all, if Tom Swift, the great humanitarian, wants wood then surely it is worth the lives of innocent people in a small, unknown country. Is that what you were thinking?”

Tom put his head in his hands. “What do you want from me?”

“I want balance!” Xanthus said angrily. “You cannot tell me you were not responsible for what happened to Haargoland twenty years ago. That revolution was made possible solely because of your financial support. Do you know what it did to my country?”

“It destroyed it,” Tom said quietly.

Xanthus stood up. “Do you know how many people died? Do you know how much was lost? My own brother was killed in the fighting. If it was not for you he would still be alive today.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom said. “I really am. If I could take it all back I would. But I can’t.”

“It is much too late for that,” Xanthus snarled. “Justice is balance. You destroyed my life, so I will destroy yours. You ruined my country, so I am going to return the favor. And I will use your invention to do it.”

Tom looked at him in horror. “What are you going to do?”

Xanthus sat back down in his chair and regained his composure. “You are a smart man, my friend. I believe you can figure it out.”

Tom thought for a moment. “If you melted down this reactor it would surely be a disaster, but I don’t see how you can do that. It has been designed specifically to – ” and then Tom suddenly remembered the message he had been given last night at the hotel. He froze.

“Go on,” Xanthus said encouragingly. “You are almost there.”

“You poisoned the Tomasite,” Tom said at last. “That’s why the Eagle crashed! You sabotaged the nuclear shielding as practice for your real goal – the destruction of this plant.”

“It had the side-benefit of destroying your son’s life,” Xanthus remarked. “It worked out well, I might add. I did not expect you to also pile misery onto your son, but I was pleased when you did.”

“I had no choice,” Tom protested.

“You say that a lot,” Xanthus replied. “You had no choice but to overthrow the Haargoland government. You had no choice but to destroy your son’s dreams. It simply had to be done.” Xanthus looked him in the eye. “You always have a choice, my friend. You have made your choice and I have made mine.”

“It’s not going to work,” Tom said flatly. “I hate to disappoint you, but the reaction is controlled by a computer. Even if you sabotaged the Tomasite it won’t do any good because the computer monitors the reaction and will simply shut it down at the first sign of trouble.”

Xanthus sighed. “I have the blueprints for this marvelous plant of yours. Do you think I did not realize that?”

Tom suddenly became very afraid. “What did you do?”

“Come, Mr. Swift. Is it not obvious? I simply sabotaged the computer as well. The operators will not know anything is going on, but the computer and the Tomasite are doing their work as we speak. For you see, my goal is not to simply cause a meltdown – not when I can harness your invention and cause your plant to destroy itself in a nuclear explosion!”

Tom gasped. “You’ll destroy the entire city!”

“You mean you will destroy the entire city,” Xanthus corrected. “The magic of Swift Enterprises will be blamed for destroying the largest metropolis in America. Your company will be destroyed and your nation will fall into chaos. What happened to your son will happen to you – only for you the infamy will be far worse.”

“You can’t do this!” Tom protested. “Millions of lives are at stake! What kind of monster are you?”

“That did not concern you when you overthrew the Haargoland government,” Xanthus said angrily. “Why should it concern me now?”

“Someone will find out and stop you,” Tom said desperately.

Xanthus shook his head. “It is too late for that. You foolishly decided that the entire reactor would be controlled by an electronic brain. Where are you going to find an unmodified one that you can use to shut down the reaction? Do you happen to have a spare one lying around?”

“I’ve got one at the Institute – it’s controlling my test reactor,” Tom said. “We can still stop this, Xanthus. You don’t have to do this.”

“You mean you used to have one at the Institute. I took the liberty of having it disabled yesterday. No, my friend, for you there is no hope. All you can do is wait for your inevitable end!”