Over the next few weeks Tom Swift Jr. made rapid progress on his hyperplane design. One afternoon, however, he hit a snag. Irene noticed this the moment she stepped into Tom’s laboratory as saw the young inventor staring into space, doing nothing at all.

“Did you have a productive afternoon?” Irene asked, as she grabbed a stool and sat down in front of him.

“Hmmm,” Tom replied vaguely.

“I stopped by the physics lab after lunch,” the girl continued, while attempting to suppress a smile. “You’ll be glad to know that I was finally able to track down the switchboard operator and get her feedback on our reactor design! Her nephew’s three-year-old thinks we’re headed in the right direction.”

“Good,” Tom mumbled.

“It’s really terrific news,” Irene said enthusiastically. “Oh, and I also wanted to tell you that I have fish for sale.”

“What?” Tom said, startled. His eyes focused on Irene. “Fish?”

Irene laughed. “Ok, now I’ve got your attention. I was beginning to wonder there, skipper. Where have you been?”

“Wait. You got whose feedback on our reactor? Did I hear you right?”

“No, skipper, you didn’t. In fact,” she teased, “you didn’t hear me at all. You were lost in a world all your own. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Tom said slowly. “The heat transfer issue has me stuck. The math isn’t working, Ace, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Irene nodded. “Right. So let’s start at the beginning. Explain to me the thought process behind Project Desert Eagle.”

Tom looked at her, puzzled. “You’ve been with me all along! You know the story as well as I do. Why would you want to hear it again?”

The teenage girl shook her head. “You’ve got it backwards. What I want you to do is retrace your steps aloud. Verbally explaining the big picture will help you think through it. You need to start over if you want to avoid endlessly thinking in circles.”

“If you say so,” Tom said. “Hmmm. Ok. What I want to do is build an aircraft that can achieve a hypersonic velocity. My target is Mach 15. I’m calling it Project Desert Eagle because we’re going to build the plane in the desert and, um, the name just had a nice ring to it.”

“Great!” Irene said. “Keep going. Don’t stop talking until you’ve run out of breath.”

Tom laughed. “Got it. Well, to move a plane at that speed you need an awful lot of power, so the idea was to build an airplane that runs on nuclear energy. The atom can provide more than enough power to get the job done. In fact, in theory it could keep the plane flying for months or even years.”

“But there are two problems, right?” Irene prodded.

“Right. Although, actually, they’re kind of tied together. In a traditional nuclear power plant, nuclear fission is used to provide heat, and that heat turns water into steam, and that steam drives a turbine, and that turbine produces electricity. That’s great for commercial power plants, but it won’t work at all for an airplane. We don’t want to produce a thousand megawatts of electricity. What we want is thrust.”

“And how are you planning on obtaining that thrust?” Irene asked.

Tom frowned. “That’s the problem. In a traditional ramjet design, the high speed of the vehicle forces compressed air through a tube. A spark from combustion heats the air, and the heated air is passed through a nozzle in order to accelerate it to supersonic speeds. This translates into thrust. A scramjet works on a similar principle, except the combustion is handled supersonically.”

“But you’re using nuclear power, not combustion,” Irene pointed out.

Tom nodded. “Exactly! Hence the trouble. We can generate all kinds of heat, but I can’t find a way to use it effectively. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to transfer the heat efficiently enough to achieve anything close to hypersonic speeds.”

“Right! That’s problem number one. What’s problem number two?”

“It’s really more of an engineering challenge than a problem,” Tom conceded. “A ramjet will only work if it’s already moving at a high speed. This obviously means you can’t use it to get off the ground in the first place. The plane is almost going to need two thrust systems – one to accelerate to a speed where the ramjet can kick in, and then the ramjet itself.”

“Only it’s technically not a ramjet, since no combustion is involved,” Irene pointed out. “You’ll need to think of a different name.”

Tom grinned. “I suppose that naming a nonexistent device is the least of my problems! Did anyone in the lab have any suggestions?”

Irene was thoughtful for a moment. “Dr. Campbell seems to think that your basic idea is sound. When I talked to him about the heat transfer issue he suggested using electric arcs to heat the air. Oh, and Dr. Sample said something about adapting the hyperplane for use in orbit. He seems to think you could carry aloft a supply of hydrogen and use it for thrusting in space.”

“That could work,” Tom mused. “I’ll have to give those ideas some thought. Maybe some kind of energy discharge could rapidly heat the air. And it would be cool if we could use the hyperplane to reach outer space.”

“So what’s the plan of action?” Irene asked.

“Well, the problem is definitely the heat transfer issue. I’ll build some models and will start experimenting. I guess there’s a couple different things we could try.”

Irene nodded. “I’ll keep working on the design for the aircraft itself. It’s a challenge to build a frame that is stable at both subsonic and hypersonic speeds. This isn’t really something that can be tested in a wind tunnel very easily. Arv Hanson has been so much help.”

“Who?” Tom asked.

“Arv Hanson – our chief model maker.”

Tom frowned. “I thought that was Hank Sterling.”

Irene shook her head. “No, no. Arv makes models. Hank makes patterns. They’re two different things.”

“Are you sure?” Tom asked. “Is there really a difference between a model and a pattern?”

“Think about it! If you want a model of your hyperplane you go to Arv, and he makes it for you. Arv is the one who made all those working models that are in your dad’s office. Hank, on the other hand, takes your dad’s inventions and makes them into patterns that can be reproduced. They do totally different things.”

“Maybe I do remember Arv,” Tom said. “Is he a tall, heavy-set guy, about six foot tall, blond hair and a mustache?”

“You’re thinking of Hank,” Irene replied. “Arv is the one with the square jaw.”

“I thought Hank had the square jaw,” Tom replied. “I was sure of it. Arv is the thin one with the twin five-year-old girls.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Irene said. A horrified look spread over her face. “You don’t suppose I spent the afternoon talking to Hank and thinking he was Arv, do you?”

“Could be!” Tom said cheerfully. “I bet they get that a lot, though. They’re twins from Bavaria, you know.”

“They are not!” Irene said. “Arv is ten years older than Hank. How could they possibly be twins?”

“Time travel,” Tom said mysteriously. “Or aliens. It could be the aliens.”

Irene reached over and shoved Tom off his stool. Tom, flailing around, lost his balance and crashed onto the couch behind him. Irene helped him up and shook her finger at him. “That’s what you get for being ridiculous,” she warned. “Next time I’m going to toss you out the window.”

Tom glanced outside. “We’re on the ground floor, Ace. I think I’d survive.”

Irene snapped her fingers. “Say, Tom, I almost forgot. A few days ago your dad asked me to tell you to drop by his office. He said he wanted to talk to you about something.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “He told you this a few days ago? And you just now remembered?”

“I wouldn’t fret it too much,” Irene said cheerfully. “I’m sure if it was super critical he would have called you, or something.”

Tom removed his white lab coat and hung it in the closet. He started to walk out the door, but Irene stopped him. “Hey, brains, don’t you think you should maybe call him first to see if he’s in?”

“Right,” Tom said. “Thanks.” He turned around and reached for the phone that was hanging on the wall, and lifted up the receiver. “Yes – I’d like to be connected to my dad’s office, please,” Tom said to the lady at the switchboard.

“One moment,” Molly replied. A minute went by, and then she spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Tom, but there’s no answer.”

“Thanks,” he said, and then slowly put down the receiver. A frown crossed his face. “That’s weird.”

“That he’s not in his office?” Irene asked.

“No, that nobody answered,” Tom replied. “Shouldn’t his secretary at least be in?”

“You mean Miss Trent?” Irene said.

“Right,” Tom replied. “Julie is a model of efficiency. I can’t imagine her leaving the office unstaffed during business hours, no matter what is going on. I’m going to go investigate.”

“Sounds like fun!” Irene said. “I’ll go with you.” She walked over to the closet, hung up her lab coat, and pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, which she proceeded to load.

Tom groaned. “Please, Irene, let’s not start World War III today. There’s no reason to get excited.”

“You never know,” Irene said darkly. “The forces of evil might be lurking about.”

“If they are then we’ll let Harlan Ames and his men take care of it. We have a whole department dedicated to the security of this plant. They can handle the bad guys. We don’t need to panic.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Irene replied cheerfully, hoisting the gun over her shoulder.

Tom smiled. “I know you better than that, Ace. You just like shooting things! If my dad ever went on another hunting expedition to Africa you would go with him in a heartbeat. But we’re in civilized lands, and the forces of evil are not threatening the citadels of peace. Put the gun back.”

Irene sighed, but she unloaded the weapon and placed it back in the closet. “Ok, Tom, you’ve got a good point. Let’s go.”

Tom and Irene locked the laboratory and walked toward the parking lot. For safety reasons the business offices were located on the extreme opposite end of the grounds, as far away from the Swifts’ laboratories as possible. Years of experience had taught the office personnel that it was best to be as far away as possible when something new and untried was about to be tested.

The two young scientists got into Tom’s red convertible, and they drove the short distance to the office building. Once inside Tom used his private access key to take the elevator to the ninth floor, which was reserved for the executive suites.

“It’s quiet up here,” Irene remarked, as they stepped out of the elevator and into the plushly-decorated hallway. The hallway stretched to the left and right of the elevator, and was lined with doors. On the walls hung pictures of famous Swift inventions, separated by awards or the occasional mirror. The office of Tom’s father was the last one on the right.

“You know, it is four in the afternoon on a Friday,” Tom replied, as they started walking down the hall. “Maybe they all went home early. There aren’t many people with offices up here, and those that do are rarely here anyway.”

Suddenly Irene grabbed Tom. She pointed to a large mirror that hung in the hallway. “Do you see what I see?” she hissed.

Tom turned his attention to the mirror. In the reflection he could see a portion of his father’s outer office, where Miss Trent sat. The door to his father’s private office was closed, but Miss Trent was slumped over her desk!

Tom froze. “We need to alert security,” he whispered.

“Quiet!” Irene replied. “I think someone’s coming.”

Tom paused for a moment and listened. He could hear a creaking noise, as if someone was going through some cabinets.

“In here,” Tom said, grabbing Irene and pulling her into an adjacent office. After they were inside he quietly shut the door behind him. “From here we can call – ”

As Tom turned around he suddenly realized that he had made a big mistake. A man with a crowbar was behind the desk, rifling through one of its drawers. Loose papers were strewn everywhere. By the condition of the desk Tom could tell that the man had used the crowbar to completely tear it apart. The intruder, however, had heard Tom enter the office. The moment Tom closed the door he looked up. The intruder’s eyes narrowed, and he tightened the grip on his crowbar.

Irene froze. Tom instantly leaped into action, jumping over the desk and tackling the intruder head-on. The man saw him coming and attempted to step back, but he tripped over a chair and fell backwards. Tom hit him just as the man was falling, and the intruder hit the ground hard. The crowbar went flying.

By this point Irene had recovered. She grabbed the crowbar and raced over to help Tom. The intruder was still struggling, but the fall had dazed him, and Tom was able to subdue him. He took off his belt and tied the man’s hands behind him while Irene picked up the phone on the desk to call for help.

As Tom finished securing the prisoner Irene put the phone down in disgust. “It’s dead,” she said.

“The line’s been cut,” Tom said, nodding toward the phone jack in the wall. “I’m going to have to go to another office to call Harlan. Can you handle the prisoner, or would you rather find a phone while I watch him?”

Irene gripped the crowbar tightly. Her eyes narrowed. “Go make your call, Tom. I’ll handle this.”

The prisoner let out a short, guttural laugh. “Just wait until I get loose, miss. I’ll – ”

“If I were you I’d lie still,” Tom said quietly, as he stepped toward the door. “She’s one trigger-happy girl, and a crowbar happens to be her favorite weapon. I’ve seen her do things that would make your hair curl. Even Dr. Freeman has nothing on her.”

The intruder’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t,” he said.

Irene knelt down and looked him in the eye. “Try me,” she whispered. “I dare you.”

Tom carefully stepped out into the hallway. He glanced up in the mirror and saw that Miss Trent was still slumped over the desk. He spied a phone next to her. I’ve got to make sure she’s ok, he thought to himself. The intruder must have gone through my father’s office first, and then started working his way down the hall when we surprised him.

The young man quietly made his way to his father’s office and stepped inside. The office was divided into two parts. The glass-walled outer office was where Miss Trent sat, and where visitors waited for their appointments. Behind the secretary was the door to his father’s private office. It was closed.

Tom walked over to the desk. Like the desk in the other room, it was in wild disarray. That crowbar made short work of this piece of furniture, he thought to himself. As he picked up the phone he took the secretary’s pulse. She’s alive, but unconscious, he thought to himself. He sniffed the air and caught a faint odor of chloroform. So that’s how he did it!

The lady at the switchboard connected Tom to Harlan Ames, and he quickly and quietly explained that there had been a break-in.

“We’ll be there in just a moment,” Harlan said. By his voice Tom could tell that he was deeply concerned. “I can’t imagine how he got through security, but I’ll find out. Are you positive that there are no other intruders?”

Tom was about to reply when he heard a noise behind him. He turned around just in time to see the door open. A stranger was standing in the door, holding an electric rifle. It was pointed straight at Tom’s head!

“I’ve always liked your office, Tom,” Ned remarked to his friend. “There’s just something about it that stands out.”

Tom Swift Sr. smiled as he walked over to his desk and sat down. Over the years many visitors and dignitaries had graced his office, and nearly all of them shared the same opinion. What caught there attention wasn’t the beautiful mahogany walls, or the thick red carpet, or the tasteful modern furniture. The real attention-getters were the models of Tom’s famous inventions that decorated the room.

“I see you’ve got all the classics here,” Ned continued, as he slowly walked around the room. “Your giant magnet, the great searchlight, giant cannon, and the airplanes – yes, the airplanes! You always had a thing for building heavier-than-air machines, didn’t you?” Ned picked up a small model from a bookshelf and looked at it fondly. “I remember this one! This is your sky racer, isn’t it?”

Tom Sr. nodded fondly. “The Hummingbird. I used that to save my father’s life. It was one of the early ones.”

Ned put the model down and looked at the pictures that hung on the wall. “These really bring back memories. There’s you and your father, back in the old days. And there’s Mr. Damon! Man, I miss him. Do you remember the adventures we used to have? We don’t do things like that anymore.”

Tom smiled. “I’m getting a bit old to be trekking through the jungles of Central America, Ned. I’m not quite as young and foolish as I used to be.”

“Nonsense, Tom. Mr. Damon was an old man when he started accompanying us all over the globe. We’re just getting soft and set in our ways.”

Ned settled down into a chair and relaxed. “I need to start paying you personal visits more often. I’ve really enjoyed today. It’s felt like old times, seeing you in action.”

“If my son’s latest idea works out, you’ll be able to get here from California in a couple hours. You could start dropping by for lunch! Hypersonic flight will change the world.”

“Do you really think he can do it? I mean, I know he’s your son, but he’s still pretty young.”

Tom Sr. leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully into the distance. “That’s a good question. I think his basic idea is sound, but it’s going to take some effort, and it’s not like anything he’s ever done before. It won’t be easy.”

“Is it really wise to let him try to build a nuclear-powered aircraft? An awful lot can go wrong, you know. It’s not like he’s tinkering with a motorcycle. Atomic power isn’t for beginners.”

“True, but he won’t be acting alone – he has a whole company to help him out. Besides, I’ll be keeping an eye on him. He’s got a passion for this, and I don’t want to quench it.”

Ned started to reply, but there was a knock on the door, followed by a muffled voice. “Dad?”

“Come on in,” Tom said. The door opened, and Tom Jr. and Irene walked into the room.

“Thanks for coming,” Tom Sr. said warmly. “Please, take a seat. Ned and I called this meeting to talk about the future of the tomasite project. We’re going to be taking the company in an exciting new direction and I wanted the two of you to be the first to know our plans.”

Tom Jr. and Irene took seats, and Tom Sr. got up from behind his desk and began pacing around the room. “As you know, the tomasite test today was a success. There is still a lot of work to be done, but I think we’ve demonstrated that the material will work. Our next step is going to be working on a manufacturing process. Being able to produce it in the lab is great, but we’re going to need a different technique to create it on a massive scale.”

“I’ve already started thinking about that,” Irene said excitedly. “There’s so much we can do! I don’t think it will be that bad if we – ”

Ned help up a hand. “I’m sure you’re right, Irene. However, I’m afraid that my constitution just isn’t strong enough to handle the technical details of the process. Once you and Tom work it out you can send it to me and I’ll let my engineers make sense of your blueprints.”

“Fair enough,” Irene replied. “I think I can find it within my heart to take pity on an old man.”

Tom Sr. smiled. “Irene, your help on the tomasite project has been invaluable, and I took pains to emphasize that to the reporter that came here today. I want to make sure you get all the credit that is due to you. However, there are plenty of talented engineers here that can work out a manufacturing process. I want to put your amazing abilities to use in a slightly different area.”

“Ok,” Irene said slowly. “What, exactly, did you have in mind?”

“I want you to work with my son on his hyperplane project. After all, your area of expertise is nuclear physics. I think the two of you will make an amazing team.”

Tom Jr. sat up in his chair. “So you’re going to let us go ahead with the project?”

“Of course! In fact, I’m going to do more than that. I believe that nuclear energy holds the key to this nation’s future. With that in mind, we’re going to build a research center out west that is completely focused on experimental nuclear energy. After you have completed the reactor design we will build your test reactors there and, eventually, the hyperplane.”

Tom Jr. looked at Ned with surprise. “And you’re ok with this? I mean, isn’t it going to be a bit expensive?”

“Your father’s always been the one that drives the company,” Ned replied. “My role is to make sure the bills get paid so he can keep on inventing. If he wants to take the company down the nuclear road then I’ll be there to support him.”

Tom Sr. continued. “We’re going to be doing more at the Swift Nuclear Research Institute than just working on the hyperplane, of course. My next project is going to be building a large-scale reactor that is based on tomasite technology. I think it could serve an important role in meeting our country’s growing demand for energy.”

Irene grinned. “So the two of you are going to be working on opposite ends of the spectrum! The father will work on powering an entire state, and the son will work on powering airplanes.”

“I think my son’s job will be harder than mine,” Tom Sr. said. “Building a nuclear reactor is one thing, but building one that is small enough to fit on a plane is a different challenge entirely.”

“It will be a big task,” Tom Jr. said thoughtfully.

“Don’t be afraid to ask for help,” Ned cautioned. “You have a lot of resources here. Use them.”

“So where is this new facility going to be built?” Irene asked.

“I’ve found some remote property in southern Arizona that should work,” Tom Sr. replied. “It’s fifteen miles from the nearest ranch and about seventy-five miles south of Phoenix. We wanted to find a location remote enough to rule out any possibility of harming the public, and I think this site will do the trick. Ned still has a lot of paperwork to do before the government will let us set up shop, but we hope to begin construction within the next few weeks. If all goes well we should be able to open the first part of the facility in the spring of next year.”

“The first part?” Irene asked.

Tom Sr. nodded. “Phase I is focused on building laboratories for nuclear research and development, and creating space for my tomasite-based reactor. In Phase II we’re going to add facilities to create transuranium elements, which we will sell to various organizations and research institutions around the country.”

“So you’re going to start producing plutonium?” Tom Jr. asked in amazement.

“Eventually,” Tom Sr. said, laughing. “But not this year, and probably not next year. We’ve got a lot to do between now and then.”

Irene glanced at her watch. “Is there anything else you wanted to tell us?”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “That was the main news, I think. We’ll probably spend a couple hours hashing out some of the details, of course. You’re more than welcome to stay for that if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but we’ve got to be going,” Irene said. She grabbed Tom Jr. and headed for the door.

“We have other plans?” Tom Jr. whispered.

“Yes, we do,” Irene replied firmly.

“Oh,” Tom replied. He turned to look at his dad. “Um, I guess I’ll see you later, Dad. Great job on the tomasite, by the way.”

“Thanks, son,” his father replied warmly. “Don’t stay out too late!”

Once they were outside the office Tom Jr. turned to Irene. “What was that all about?”

Irene explained as they walked out of the building and toward the parking. “Look, Tom, they’re going to spend hours talk about permits and financing and taxes and all sorts of things that neither of us care about. Let them handle that – it’s their job. You and I are going out tonight. While they are talking about their future we are going to talk about ours.”

Tom paled, and Irene made a quick negative motion with her hand. “No, no, that’s not what I mean, silly. We need to talk about the hyperplane project. And maybe do a little celebrating. Today really was a big day, you know.”

Tom let out a huge sigh of relief. “Right. Ok, that makes sense. Where do you want to go?”

“I’ve already got the place picked out. Ever been to the Blue Catfish? It’s a little restaurant on Lake Carlopa. They have the most amazing clams! And shrimp – oh, their shrimp are like something from another planet.”

Tom shook his head. “Nope, I don’t think I have. Lead the way, Ace!”

* * * * *

An hour later, Tom Jr. and Irene were seated at an outdoor table beside Lake Carlopa. The sun was just beginning to set, sending brilliant splashes of red and yellow across the western sky. The lake was smooth and calm, and a handful of boaters were enjoying the early evening.

“You were right about this place,” Tom Jr. said contentedly. “I had no idea that crab-stuffed shrimp existed. That was an incredible meal.”

“Thanks,” Irene said. “My father took me here once. I just love the view.”

“By the way, how is your dad?” Tom asked. “I don’t get to see him much anymore.”

“He’s still working on the rocketry project,” Irene replied casually. “He seems to think that the world will be launching rockets into space within the next five years. The moon’s getting a lot closer these days. It won’t be too long before someone sets foot on it.”

Tom grinned. “And you think I’m going to be that first person.”

“I think you could if you wanted to,” Irene said simply. “You’ve got remarkable talent, skipper. I don’t think the sky is the limit for you.”

“I don’t know,” Tom said slowly. “That reporter didn’t seem to agree. He thought the idea of an atomic-powered airplane was total idiocy.”

Irene sighed. “You’ve been thinking about that blasted reporter all day, haven’t you? Why do you let things like that get to you? It’s not like their opinion matters. Who cares what he thinks?”

“But he’s right,” Tom replied. “Look. My father really is one of the all-time great inventors. He’s world-famous, and he deserves it. He casts a huge shadow. I just don’t see how I could ever measure up to him.”

“And how do you know until you try?”

Tom sighed and looked out over the lake. “I understand your point, I really do, but I just don’t know. He’s got a lot of faith in me, and I don’t see how I can keep from disappointing him. He’s a legend, and I’m just not.”

Irene began to feel frustrated. “Look. You are sixteen years old. So far in those sixteen years you have had no major inventions. Wait until you’re old and gray and then decide if you measured up to your dad or not. What you need to do is forget Peele and think about your dreams. The real question is, what do you want to do with your life?”

“You know, I don’t actually have to do anything,” Tom pointed out. “My family is incredibly wealthy. I could just sit on a beach somewhere and enjoy the sun.”

Irene laughed. “You hate beaches, Tom. You’re just not the kind of guy that can sit around and do nothing for years on end.”

“It beats letting everyone down,” Tom replied.

Irene stood up. “Let’s go for a walk, skipper. I think it would do you some good. It’s time to clear the cobwebs out of that brain of yours.”

Tom paid for the meal, and the two of them left the restaurant and began walking down a path that led around the lake. For a while the two walked in silence, enjoying the beauty of the outdoors.

“It’s going to be dark soon,” Tom said at last.

“That means the stars will be coming out,” Irene replied. “I love the stars. Sometimes I feel like they’re calling to me.”

Tom smiled. “I guess it runs in the family! I’m a bit surprised you didn’t study rocketry or orbital mechanics.”

“Nuclear energy is the future,” Irene said. “Chemical rockets may get us into space initially, but if we want to get serious about space exploration then we’re going to have to find something better. Liquid-fueled rockets just aren’t affordable, and they’re never going to be.”

“So what do you think is the answer?” Tom asked.

“The real question is, what do you think is the answer? After you’ve perfected the atomic airplane, the atomic submarine, and the atomic car, what are you going to do next?” Irene looked at Tom and arched her eyebrows. “You can’t tell me that space doesn’t call to you.”

Tom looked up in the sky and saw the moon, low on the horizon. He began to dream. “Space travel would be amazing, Ace. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be on the lunar surface and look up and see the Earth in the sky, a small blue marble floating in the total darkness of space. Can you imagine? Or to see the gas giants, or the rings of Saturn, or to take a ride on a comet as it approaches the Sun – ”

“You’ll have to bring me some pictures back,” Irene teased.

“And what if we put a colony on the moon?” Tom asked. “Of course, it might be best to build a space station first – it’s easier to fix problems in Earth orbit than on the moon – but the moon would be next. And then there is Mars, and the other planets, and beyond them, the stars…”

“Do you think there’s life out there?”

Tom shrugged. “There certainly could be. Dad claimed to have seen a Martian city through his giant telescope years ago. It was never seen again, but it could exist.”

“So you do want to explore the final frontier,” Irene said.

“Don’t forget the oceans!” Tom said. “The deep ocean is as mysterious as deep space, and practically as hard to reach. Who knows what we might find on the ocean floor?”

“Atlantis!” Irene said, laughing. “Or maybe the fabled city of gold.”

Tom shook his head, smiling. “Giant squid are probably more likely, Ace. But you never know. There’s so much that hasn’t been discovered.”

“Have you ever thought about building cities down there?” Irene asked.

“It might be possible with tomasite,” Tom said thoughtfully. “I bet it’s got enough strength to keep the water at bay, at least in the shallow parts of the ocean.”

“I bet you could do it without the tomasite.”

Tom looked puzzled. “What would keep the water out?”

“Magic!” Irene said mischievously. “You’ll think of something. After all, it runs in your family.”

The girl looked at took thoughtfully and took his hand. “Promise me something,” she said.

“What?” Tom asked curiously.

“Promise me than when you get to the moon you’ll send Peele a postcard, letting him know that the son of the famous Tom Swift may not be as great a fool as Peele thought.”

Tom laughed. “I don’t think there are mailboxes on the moon, Ace. Luna is not yet a regular route of the United States Postal Service.”

Irene smiled. “It’s the thought that counts, Tom. So, are you ready to get started on that airplane? We’ve got tomasite now, you know! The real work can finally begin – no more endless guessing and fudged figures.”

Tom hesitated, and Irene looked him in the eye. “Don’t back down on me now! You have been given a very rare gift. Don’t waste it.”

Tom looked at her innocently. “Are you talking about an incredibly talented best friend who’s always there when you need her?”

Irene was taken aback, and then smiled. “So you can be taught! I knew you had a romantic side in there somewhere. That’s very sweet. But, what I meant was, some people can only dream about the things they’d like to do with their life. You, though, are different. You’ve been given the talent and the resources to achieve whatever you care to try. Don’t let someone talk you out of that.”

“But what if I fail?” Tom asked seriously.

“Then try again until you succeed. Will you do it?”

“Tonight?” Tom asked.

“No, silly,” Irene laughed. “Tomorrow morning will be fine. We’ll meet in your lab around, say – ”

“Eleven?”

Irene shook her head. “Let’s try six. It’ll be good for you!”

“Six!” Tom exclaimed playfully. “Can’t we compromise and agree on ten thirty?”

“I know where you live,” Irene said mischievously. “I’ll be there bright and early to pick you up – or drag you out of bed, as the case may be.”

“Sounds good,” Tom said. He smiled. “After all, we must not disappoint the future!”

That afternoon, two teenagers hurriedly walked toward one of the large experimental testing centers on the Swift Enterprise grounds. It was a beautiful day in early Fall, and a wide blue sky stretched to the horizon. The trees that lined the sidewalks were already showing tinges of yellow and red, and the warm summer air was beginning to cool. However, the beauty of that day was lost on Tom Jr. and Irene. They were discussing the tomasite stress tests that were to be conducted in a few minutes, and worries of a catastrophic failure were dominating their minds.

“Now are you sure this is going to work?” Tom Jr. asked Irene.

The young scientist bit her lip. “Kind of,” she said. “It should work. It ought to work. I’ve done the math. The basic idea is sound. I’m sure of it.”

“It should work?” Tom Jr. asked, unnerved. “Irene, there’s going to be a reporter there! Do you know what will happen if it fails? There’s a lot riding on this!”

“I know, Tom,” Irene said nervously. “Believe me, I know. I’ve done everything I can, but there are just so many things that could go wrong! Tomasite is a hideously complicated material, and the smallest impurities can ruin it. But I think we’ve got it this time. Your dad does believe in it, you know. He thinks we’re ready.”

“I know, I know,” Tom said. “But the last time you did a radiation test it led to a cascade failure in the tomasite and you blew up most of the testing center. It was not a success. I’m surprised that no one was killed!”

“But we didn’t have a reporter there then,” Irene said. “Your dad knew we weren’t ready. This time is different. I trust his judgment, I really do. If he thinks it’s then it’s time.”

“But this is insane,” Tom complained. “Why not test it first and then bring in a reporter, after you know it works?”

“It’s not your dad’s fault,” Irene said. “Your dad promised the paper six months ago that he would demonstrate the miracle plastic he’d been working on all these years, and he set today as the demonstration date. At the time he thought all the problems were behind him. He had no idea it would take him this long to solve the radiation shielding issue.”

“Would it kill him to postpone the demonstration a day or two?” Tom asked irritably. “What’s one day, Irene? One single day!”

“Your dad is a man of his word. If he tells someone that he’s going to do something then he does it. He told the reporter that he was going to demonstrate tomasite today, and so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. If it works then it works, and if it fails then it fails. He’s not going to hide, Tom.”

“I know, but – ”

“Just stop it,” Irene said firmly. “That’s quite enough. We’re going to go through with this, and we’re going to give it our best shot. If all you can do is moan about it then I suggest you sit this one out.”

“Sorry,” Tom said, abashed. “You’re right. I’ll behave. We’ll make it through this.”

“Yes we will,” Irene said.

The two at last reached the testing center and entered the building. Inside the foyer they found that Tom Sr., Ned Newton, and the reporter from the newspaper had already arrived. Ned Newton was Tom Sr.’s lifelong friend and companion. For years Ned had been responsible for the financial and business end of Swift Enterprises, and now operated the Swift Construction Company. Ned always liked to be on-hand whenever his friend demonstrated a new scientific marvel, and had flown in from California just to be present at the tomasite test.

“There you are!” Tom Sr. said, beaming. “Peele, I’d like you to meet my son, Tom Swift Jr.. Tom, this is Vince Peele from the Shopton Evening Bulletin.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Peele said, shaking Tom’s hand firmly. “Your father is a great man, son, a great man. Maybe one day you’ll grow up to be like him.”

“Um, thanks,” Tom Jr. replied uncertainly.

“And this is Irene Goddard,” Tom Sr. said. “She has proved invaluable in my work on tomasite. I couldn’t have done it without her!”

Irene blushed. “Not at all, sir. My assistance was very minor. It was an honor to have helped.”

Peele reached over and shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, it really is. I’ve heard great things about you! If this plastic is everything I’ve been told then it’s going to change everything, yes it will. You’re going to be famous!”

“Right this way,” Tom Sr. said, ushering them down a long corridor. “This is one of our most modern testing centers. We can subject our material to a wide variety of conditions, to simulate the actual stresses it might encounter in the real world.”

As Tom Sr. explained the purpose of the various testing laboratories, Tom Jr. walked beside Irene. “You’re going to be famous?” he whispered.

“He’s a reporter,” Irene whispered back. “Don’t take it personally. Young people in science just makes for good copy, I guess. Remember, Tom, he’s looking to sell newspapers, and flashy headlines will do that.”

“Doesn’t he realize what I’ve been working on?” Tom Jr. asked. “I mean, there’s a reason why I haven’t been helping Dad on the tomasite project. My ideas for the application of nuclear power will change everything.”

“Lots of people have ideas,” Irene replied. “If you want people like him to take you seriously then you’ve got to take it beyond an idea and actually build it. Give it time, skipper. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

Tom’s father led them to a door at the end of the hallway that was labeled TENSILE STRENGTH TESTING. Tom Sr. removed a keychain from his pocket, unlocked the door, and let the group into the room. Inside they found a large piece of machinery that took up the bulk of the laboratory.

Tom Sr. walked over to the machine and removed a small piece of material that was about three inches long and one inch in diameter. The rod was made of a green translucent substance. “This is a sample of tomasite,” he said, as he handed the sample to the reporter.

Peele took it from Tom and looked at it with great interest. “So this is what you’ve been working on for the past ten years! It’s amazing to at last see it in person. I know we’ve already discussed this in the foyer, but can I get a quote for our readers on why this material is so important? If you don’t mind, how will this impact the field of science?”

“Certainly,” Tom Sr. said. He took the sample from Peele and handed it to Irene, who secured it in the tensile testing machine. “What you see here, Vince, is the future of Swift Enterprises. I believe this plastic will revolutionize everything that we do. I’m especially interested in its applications in the field of nuclear energy.”

“Because of its remarkable properties?” Peele asked, as he jotted down shorthand in his notebook.

“Exactly! An indestructible, lightweight plastic that is impervious to all forms of radiation would be a tremendous boon to the field. Atomic energy would become much safer and more efficient. It could open up an entirely new way of doing things!”

“The atomic applications are really unlimited,” Tom Jr. said, speaking up. “I believe that this material can lead to a whole line of atomic-powered transportation. An atomic-powered car or plane, for example, could operate for months or even years without needing to be refueled.” His eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “It could end our reliance on fossil fuels and truly open up the nuclear age!”

Peele laughed. “An atomic-powered car! That’ll be the day, son. So, Tom, what is the first test that you’re planning on conducting?”

“The first property I want to demonstrate is this material’s remarkable strength,” Tom Sr. replied. “There are many different aspects to material strength, but today I’m going to focus on tensile strength.”

When the reporter looked confused, Irene spoke up. “It’s just a measure of a material’s ability to handle stress,” she explained. “It so happens that a material’s tensile strength doesn’t depend on the size of the sample, and we don’t have a lot of tomasite right now, so it’s a good fit for us.”

“Of course,” Peele said, nodding his head and taking notes. “We’re on the cutting edge of science here! Tomasite is probably the rarest substance in the universe right now. In fact, I bet you just made this batch a few hours ago, didn’t you? It’s hot off the presses!”

“Actually – ” Irene said.

“Shhh,” Ned replied, cutting her off. “Discretion, Irene, is a virtue.”

“So how does this work?” Peele asked. “Are we going to stand around and watch?”

“Yes, but from the safety of an adjoining room,” Tom Sr. said. He nodded toward the right, where they saw a large plexiglass wall that was beside a narrow door. Through the window they could see a small control room. “The point of the test is to pull on the material until it breaks, and I’d rather be behind a protective shield when it finally gives way.”

“Right – safety first!” Peele said cheerfully. The group walked through the door and entered the shielding area, where they sat down at a small table that faced the tensile machine. From the control room they had a clear view of the machine and the tomasite sample.

“These levers control the operation of the machine,” Tom Sr. said. “This button here begins the test, and this gauge allows us to see how much stress is being put on the material. Today we’re going to measure the force in psi, or pounds per square inch. Vince, would you care to begin the test?”

“It would be an honor,” Peele replied. He pushed the button. Immediately the psi gauge began climbing as the machine pulled on the sample. They could feel the machine throbbing as it worked to apply stress to the material.

“This worked last time, didn’t it?” Tom Jr. whispered to Irene.

She nodded. “It’s the radiation test that gets us. But I’m feeling more confident now.”

“I wish I did,” Tom Jr. replied. Irene shot him a warning look, and Tom remained silent.

As the group watched, the force pulling on the tomasite rod grew from 10,000 psi to 20,000 and then to 30,000. When it reached 36,000 psi Tom Sr. announced that they had reached the tensile strength of structural steel. Peele looked impressed as the tomasite showed no signs of snapping.

The stress continued to increase, and soon reached 100,000 psi. As the indicator crossed 120,000 psi Tom Sr. spoke up again, saying that they had now reached the tensile strength of titanium. Still, the tomasite showed no signs of yielding.

As the minutes ticked by the force continued to build. Peele whistled when the psi level exceeded one million. “Unbelievable,” he said quietly, jotting down some notes. “Your plastic makes steel look like tissue paper!”

Tom Sr. smiled. “We’re just getting started. Give the machine a few more minutes and I’ll show you what real strength looks like.”

Minute by minute the force continued to build. The group watched silently as the stress level exceeded two million psi, then three, then four. Peele’s eyes kept growing wider. “How high is it going to go?”

“Nine point one three five,” Irene replied matter-of-factly. “We’ve done this before, you know. Basically, tomasite is about 250 times stronger than steel. It’s all made possible by a very clever and complicated molecular arrangement.”

“What’s really amazing is that even that is far from the theoretical limit of what we can do with that atomic structure,” Tom Sr. pointed out. “We’re really just getting started.”

Sure enough, when the gauge read 9,135,000 psi the tomasite snapped violently, startling the group with a sudden deafening noise. Tom Sr. shut down the machine, smiling.

“A very impressive display!” Ned Newton said. “I can certainly see a market for something like that. And you tell me you know how to manufacture it in large quantities?”

Tom Sr. smiled. “That will come next, Ned. We can talk about that after the demonstration. There are still two more tests that we need to run.”

Peele nodded, jotting down notes. “And what is next in your bag of tricks?”

Tom Sr. led the group back out to the hallway and down to another door, which was labeled SHOOTING RANGE. As Tom opened the door and let the group inside he explained the purpose of this test.

“One of the advantages to tomasite is that a very thin and lightweight coating can provide a tremendous amount of strength. While it is possible to build entire structures from the material, it’s also possible to use it as a coating to reinforce existing objects. This room is intended to demonstrate that.”

Inside the room they saw a long shooting lane that extended about a hundred and fifty feet. A painted line on the ground marked the start of the lane, and spent cartridges littered the ground around the line. To the left of the lane was a large gun rack that sported a wide variety of weapons.

“You have a nice collection of firearms here,” Peele said, as he walked over to the rack. “You used to be a big-game hunter, didn’t you?”

Tom Sr. nodded. “I don’t get out much anymore, but back in the day I did a lot of hunting in Africa. I bagged quite a few elephants, as I recall.”

“I never cared for hunting,” Tom Jr. replied.

Irene laughed. “I don’t think you even know how to use a gun. Weapons just aren’t your thing, Tom.”

“That’s your loss, son,” Peele said. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about what your dad dad in South America with the giants. He was one of the best! A true legend.”

Tom Sr. spoke up. “As you can see, about a hundred feet down range is a paper target, which is tied to a clothesline near the ceiling that stretches from the firing line to the end of the range. Behind the target is a quarter-inch-thick piece of tomasite, and behind the tomasite is a piece of delicate, fragile glass.”

“Oh, I get it,” the reporter replied. “You’re planning to shoot the target, hit the tomasite, and then show that the glass is unscratched. Very nice! So who is going to demonstrate this for us?”

“I’ve got dibs on this,” Irene said, grinning. She walked over to the wall and grabbed a Thompson submachine gun, then went to a nearby cabinet, unlocked it, and took ammunition from it to load the weapon.

Peele’s eyes grew wide. “You’re pretty serious about this! I was expecting a shotgun or something. Are you telling me that tomasite can stand up to fire from a fully automatic weapon?”

“We’re about to find out,” Irene said grimly. “This gun a real classic, sir. The M1 can fire 600 rounds per minute – and not just any rounds, but .45 caliber. If tomasite isn’t indestructible then this ought to blow it to shreds.”

She then took some ear plugs and protective eyewear from the cabinet and handed them out to the group. After making sure that everyone was ready she carried the loaded weapon over to the firing line, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger.

An explosion of noise filled the room as a stream of bullets tore the paper target to shreds. The force caused the tomasite sample to dance around, but it did not shatter. After a few moments Irene eased her finger off of the trigger.

As the echoing gunshots died down Tom Sr. pulled on the line that held the target and gently wheeled it back to the firing line. Meanwhile, Irene made sure that the gun’s safety was on and that there was no remaining ammunition. When she was satisfied that the gun was empty she put it back on the gun rack and relocked the cabinet.

“Amazing,” Peele said. He took the target off of the line and held it up to the light. The thin piece of tomasite was not even scratched and the glass behind it was in perfect shape, even though the paper target that had been taped to the tomasite surface was almost completely obliterated.

“You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” Ned told Tom Sr. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, and I still find it hard to believe. That plastic of yours has got to violate at least six different laws of physics.”

Irene laughed. “You’d be surprised at what little Swift magic can do.”

“Shall we proceed to the next test?” Tom Sr. asked.

“There’s more?” Peele asked. “You’ve already sold me, Tom. What I’ve seen in the past half hour puts tomasite up there as one of the greatest wonders of the world.”

“We still have the most important test ahead of us – the radiation test,” Tom Sr. replied. “That is where the real miracle lies. If tomasite can act as a safe radiation shield then our job will be complete.”

As the group walked out of the shooting range Ned walked over to Irene. “This is going to work, right?” he asked.

“Of course,” Irene said firmly. “This will be just like all of the other tests you’ve seen Tom do.”

Ned paled. “I sure hope not. I remember when he was testing his electric rifle, and – ”

“Are you coming with us?” Tom Sr. asked. Tom and Peele were already halfway down the hallway.

“Sorry,” Ned replied. He hurried to catch up with them.

Tom Jr. and Irene lingered behind. “Now’s your chance to run,” Tom Jr. said playfully. “It’s now or never!”

Irene smiled. “And miss your dad’s greatest triumph? I don’t think so! We’re going to make history, Tom. You wait and see.”

“That’s true – one way or the other,” Tom said dryly.

Irene stuck her tongue out at Tom and marched down the hallway. Tom laughed and ran after her.

As the two entered the radiation testing laboratory they saw a small machine mounted on a pedestal. The curious gun-like device was the only thing in the empty concrete room, and it was pointed toward a small opening in the far wall. Through the opening they could see a Geiger counter, which was connected to some wires.

“This device is a radiation emitter,” Tom Sr. explained. “When I active the emitter it will send a beam of intense radiation through that opening and to the Geiger counter on the other side of the wall, which will measure the radiation level. However, during the test I am going to lower a one-inch-thick sheet of tomasite over the opening. The material should prevent the radiation from ever reaching the Geiger counter, proving that it is an effective radiation shield.”

Peele nodded. “Sounds good, Tom. A real experiment in aperture science! But where are we going to watch the test? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be anywhere near that emitter when it’s turned on.”

“I second the motion,” Ned added. “My doctor has put me on a strict no-radiation diet.”

Tom Sr. smiled. “The control room is right next door, gentlemen. We’ll monitor the test from there.”

After Irene made sure that everything was in place the group walked into the control room. Tom Jr. smiled when he saw that the control room had one small door, no windows, and was protected by thick concrete walls.

“Looks like you’re not taking any chances,” Tom Jr. whispered to Irene.

Irene shrugged. “Luck favors the prepared. Besides, Ned is tired of paying to rebuild the lab.”

“You better believe it,” Ned said in a low voice, after overhearing Tom’s whisper. “You’ve already exceeded your rebuilding budget for the year, young man. The Swifts can’t level any more structures until next April.”

Tom Jr. nodded while attempting to suppress a grin. “Thanks! That’s good to know.”

When everyone was ready Tom Sr. walked up to the wall and threw a large, heavy switch. A red overhead light went on, indicating that the emitter was beaming dangerous radiation at the target in the other room. The group saw that a gauge on the wall was reporting intense levels of radiation.

“As you can see,” Tom Sr. explained, “there is an exact match between the radiation being emitted and the radiation being detected by the Geiger counter. This indicates that the system is working flawlessly. Now it is time for the real test. Peele, would you care to lower the tomasite panel into place?”

Irene reached over and grabbed Tom Jr’s hand. Her knuckles turned white. “This is it,” she whispered quietly. Tom Jr. nodded but said nothing.

Peele reached over and pressed the button labeled TOMASITE SHIELD. A moment later the level of detected radiation dropped to zero, even though the emitter’s output had not fallen. The tomasite was blocking the radiation!

“Yes!” Irene shouted, startling the group. “It works! I knew it!”

Everyone laughed, and Peele jotted down some notes in his notebook. “Indeed it does, young lady! You and Tom have a lot to be proud of. You have truly produced one of the great marvels of this age!”

“Congratulations,” Ned said, clapping his old friend on the back. “I can hardly wait to get this product to market! Next year could easily be our best year ever.”

Tom Sr. shut down the test and shook Peele’s hand. “Thank you so much for coming today. Is there anything else I can do?”

Peele nodded. “Come to think of it, there is one more thing. Would you mind if I took a few pictures?”

An early morning fog gently drifted over the highway as Tom Swift Sr. guided his silver sports car down a winding country road. The fog reduced effectiveness of his headlights, but he could easily see that the little-used road was completely deserted. Had he been driving at a normal hour he could have enjoyed the beauty that can only be found in the rolling hills of upper New York State. At the moment, however, darkness obscured everything but the road directly in front of him.

Tom Sr. glanced at his watch and saw that it was 5:18 AM. He yawned, and then turned on the radio. It’s much too early for a Swift to be awake, he thought. I’m getting too old for this kind of thing.

The middle-aged scientist was on his way to Swift Enterprises, and had decided to take a seldom-traveled backroad instead of the usual highway. In the old days this part of the state was sparsely populated, but Swift Enterprises was rapidly turning the rural community into a modern metropolis. The transformation had started a generation ago when his father, Barton Swift, had fallen in love with inventing. His passionate interest in science had proven so successful that the small business he started eventually grew into a multinational corporation that had become synonymous with state-of-the-art technology. When Tom became an adult his father turned the family business over to him, and he had guided the company through two world wars and pioneered many of its most amazing inventions.

As he made his way through the hills that surrounded Lake Carlopa he let his mind wander to his latest research project. Tom Sr. loved driving along the backroads that surrounded his home in Shopton, New York, as it gave him time to think before he got caught up in the hectic pace of the plant. Although it’s not like anyone’s going to be there this early, he thought wryly. We Swifts are famous for working late into the night, not getting up before the sun sees fit to shine. But I suppose this time it can’t be helped.

It took him about twenty minutes of driving before he could see the bright lights of Swift Enterprises on the horizon. The four-mile-square complex was packed with every kind of scientific laboratory and was home to some of the world’s most pioneering projects. The campus was so successful that its sister firm, the Swift Construction Company, was kept busy mass-producing the many breakthroughs that originated from within the plant.

Tom Sr. pulled his car up to the main gate and rolled down his window. George Manfield, the night-shift guard, looked at him and nodded in recognition. “Good morning, Mr. Swift. You’re hear mighty early today.”

“Much too early, George,” Tom replied, yawning. “I don’t know how you manage to work all night.”

“I’ve been doing it for twenty years, Tom. You get used to it after a while. I hate to bother you, but mind if I see your badge?”

“Sure – no problem,” the inventor said. He patted the front of his shirt absently, and then realized that his security badge was not pinned to his shirt. Tom frowned. “Hold on just a second – I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”

The guard nodded patiently. “Whatever you say, Mr. Swift. You’re the boss. My shift doesn’t end for another hour.”

Tom Sr. grabbed the briefcase from the seat beside him, popped it open, and began rifling through it. His heart sank when he saw that its contents were in wild disarray. Papers with important hand-written formulas were strewn about at random, mixed in with mail from his house and memos from other departments. When he saw that he had written a grocery list on the back of a bill of lading he sighed deeply. I’ve got to get more organized, he thought grimly. If I ever give my grocer a request for fissionable materials I’m likely to make the morning paper. Ned would never let me hear the end of it.

After a few minutes of digging Tom at last located his badge, and handed it to the guard.

“I’m glad you found that,” George said, as he flipped the switch to open the gate. “I can’t let you in without that badge. It’s policy, you know. Can’t run things the way we used to, apparently.”

“I know what you mean,” Tom Sr. said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Having to turn around and go back home to get the badge would have been awful.”

“Eh, it wouldn’t have been as bad as that. Your assistant Irene is here, you know.”

Tom looked surprised. “She’s not my – that is – she’s already here? When did she get in?”

The guard shrugged. “Same time as usual. You know Irene! She’s a nice girl, she is. Always one to lend a hand, but a bit feisty. If you ever forgot your badge and she found out you would be in for it, famous scientist or not. Especially after what you put her through last week.”

Tom winced. “That was an accident, George. Zinc dust can be flammable, you know, and I did pay for the damage to her car. But – um, thanks.”

George nodded, and Tom drove through the gate. As he had expected, the company grounds were largely deserted, except for the observatory. The fog that had plagued his drive to the plant was only a minor nuisance on the grounds, and he was able to get to the building that housed his private laboratory without incident.

I have got to find a better way to handle security here at the plant, Tom Sr. thought to himself, as he gathered up the contents of his briefcase and got out of the car. These badges are terrible – they’re easily lost, and easily forged. Maybe my son can think of something. After all, if he can design an atomic power plant then surely he can come up with a thief-proof security fence. How hard could it possibly be?

Tom Swift Sr. had two children, a sixteen-year-old son named Tom Swift Jr. and a fifteen-year-old daughter named Sandra. Tom Swift Jr. had showed a remarkable talent for invention, and his father was certain that he would follow in the Swift family footsteps. Tom Jr. had recently displayed an interest in nuclear energy, and his father was excited to see what his son would do in the field.

After making a mental note to talk to his son about designing an electronic security system Tom walked into the deserted building and used his key to enter his laboratory. When he stepped into his laboratory he heard a cheery voice call out to him. “Good morning, Mr. Swift! Help yourself to some breakfast – I’ve left some food on the table for you. Oh, and there’s some coffee too.”

“Thanks, Irene,” Tom Sr. said gratefully, as he set his briefcase down. Over in one corner of the lab was a small battered table and a set of blackened chairs, where he often ate when he was too busy to make it to the company cafeteria. Sitting on the table was was a plate of freshly-made donuts and a pot of steaming coffee, which was resting on a hot plate. Tom had not taken the time to eat before leaving home, and was glad that Irene had thought to provide breakfast.

Irene Goddard was hard at work in the main part of the laboratory. At the moment the seventeen-year-old girl was bent over a spectrophotometer, carefully reading off numbers and jotting them down on a clipboard. Irene was wearing a clean white laboratory coat, and had piercing green eyes and short red hair that was tied in the back with a black ribbon. At five-foot-two she was shorter than average, but she had a keen intellect and an infectious sense of humor. The teenage girl had already graduated from one of the country’s most prestigious universities with a degree in nuclear physics, and was one of Swift Enterprise’s most promising employees. Tom Sr. had known her since she was a small child, for he was good friends with her grandfather Robert Goddard, the famous rocket scientist. When Robert’s son Michael moved his family to Shopton the Swifts became close friends with them, and their daughter Irene had grown up with Tom Jr..

Tom Sr. poured some coffee into a cup and grabbed a donut. “How did you know I didn’t eat before I got here?” he asked.

Irene looked up from the scientific instrument and laughed. “You and Tom are just alike – you never, ever think about food. I still don’t know why you aren’t suffering from malnutrition or something. Have you ever thought about hiring a cook?”

“We already have one,” Tom Sr. said, as he munched on the donut. “Who do you think runs the cafeteria that feeds the hundreds of people that work here?”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t actually bring the food to you. That’s what you two need – some personal attention. Someone to interrupt your solitude and remind you that you, too, require nourishment to survive.”

“These are remarkably good donuts,” Tom said thoughtfully, as he took another one from the plate. “Come to think of it, where did you find donuts this time of morning? I didn’t think the cafeteria opened until seven.”

“It doesn’t,” Irene said, as she placed a material sample into a magnetic resonance machine. “I had my mom make those this morning before I came in.”

Tom’s eyes grew large. “Oh, dear girl, please tell me you didn’t wake up your poor mother at five in the morning to fix breakfast for me.”

Irene’s eyes twinkled. “Ok, I won’t – it was four, actually. But c’mon, she was already up. It wasn’t a big deal or anything. We Goddards are early risers, you know! Runs in the family.”

Tom sighed, and then finished his breakfast. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Irene. But at least this is the last time I’ll have to come in this early for a while. At least, it will be if everything goes well.”

“It will,” Irene said. “I can feel it! Today is going to be the day. You wait and see if it’s not. I have a way of being right about these things.”

Tom smiled. “It’s been ten years, Irene. I’m ready for this project to be over. It will be nice to think of something other than polymerization. So tell me, what have you gotten done this morning?”

Irene grabbed the clipboard, and the two settled down to work. Over the next several hours the two scientists continued to refine several gallons of chemicals, putting them through a battery of tests and removing any lingering impurities. When they were at last satisfied with the consistency of the shimmering blue liquid they poured it into a special container, placed the container into a large industrial-grade oven, and began the curing process.

“There’s got to be an easier way to do this,” Irene remarked, after the oven settings had been double-checked. “Making the liquid acetates is not that hard, and reacting it to make it form plastic isn’t that hard either. But the quality control process is a real killer. That one step has led to so many failures.”

“True, but that’s the way it has to be for now,” Tom Sr. replied. “It only takes a very small impurity to destroy the chains and make the plastic useless. Once we can prove this process works I’m sure we can design a better way to manufacture tomasite. But for now it pays to do it the hard way. As a wise man once said, quality is severe drudgery.”

A voice spoke up from the laboratory door. “So you are going to name the miracle plastic tomasite!” Tom Swift Jr. said excitedly. “I had no idea you decided to take Mom’s advice and name the plastic after its famous inventor. When did this happen?”

Irene turned around and laughed. “So the sleepy inventor has finally made it to work! I was wondering when the skipper would grace us with his presence. How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long,” Tom Jr. said, smiling. “You two looked busy, so I thought I’d wait until you started the curing process.”

“Thanks,” his dad replied. “It has been a busy morning. But about the name – well, all I can say is that your mother is very persuasive. She has a way with these things, son! I learned a long time ago it’s best to take her advice.”

Tom Jr. nodded. “I’m sure mother will be pleased! It is a great honor. But how long have you two been here? Apparently I’ve missed all the fun.”

Irene glanced at her watch. “We’ve been here about six hours, I guess. Or at least I have. Your dad got here a little later than I did.”

Tom Sr. looked surprised. “You mean it’s almost noon? I’ve completely lost track of time! Ned’s going to be arriving soon for the demonstration and I don’t have anything prepared.” Tom Sr. removed his lab coat, tossed it onto the back of a chair, grabbed his briefcase, and ran out of the room. “I’ll be back,” he called out. “Keep an eye on the tomasite!”

“You got it,” Irene replied.

After his father left the young Tom Swift Jr. grabbed a stool, set it in front of the oven, and stared through the window thoughtfully. Irene shook her head. “You know that tomasite takes a full hour and twenty minutes to cure, Tom,” she said. “Staring at it isn’t going to make it go any faster. Besides, it’s blazing hot that close to the oven. You’re going to get a sunburn or something.”

“Oh, I know,” Tom said absently. “I’m just thinking.”

Irene got another stool and sat down beside him. She was silent for a few minutes, and then spoke up. “You’re worried, aren’t you, skipper?” she asked quietly.

Tom nodded, but said nothing.

“Do you think your dad is going to fail?” she asked.

The young inventor looked at her. “Do you?” he asked.

Irene shook her head. “Your dad never fails, Tom. It might take him a while, but he always finds the solution. Don’t you remember what he told us? ‘Every question has an answer, and it’s our job to find it.’ That’s what your dad does, and he’s better at it than anyone else on the planet.”

“Dad did fail once,” Tom pointed out. “With the diamond makers. His attempts to produce artificial diamonds completely failed. They could do it, and he couldn’t.”

Irene shook her head. “That’s not the same thing. The diamond makers weren’t using technology to produce diamonds. They were using a freak of nature – a special mountain surrounded by a lightning storm. If your dad had a mountain like that he could have done it just as well. Besides, he actually figured out how to do it with technology, remember? The problem was back in the day he couldn’t get enough temperature and pressure to actually form diamonds. With all the advances that have been made in the past thirty years I bet he could do it today.”

“But he hasn’t,” Tom replied.

“Of course not! Your dad’s not insane, you know. It’s not cost-effective. It’s a lot cheaper to mine diamonds out of kimberlite pipes.”

“I guess,” Tom said. He looked back into the oven and nodded toward it. “But what about that, Ace? Is that going to work?”

“Of course,” Irene said fiercely. “Today is the day, skipper. It’s going to work this time. I know it.”

Tom smiled. “So you really believe that it’s possible to produce a plastic that is indestructible, lightweight, and impervious to radiation? Really?”

Irene looked him in the eye. “Yes, Tom. I do. If your dad says it can be done, then it can be done. End of story.”

Tom laughed. “That’s what I like about you, Ace. I happen to agree, by the way – dad will make it work. I just hope today’s demonstration goes well. Do you remember what happened last time?”

Irene blushed. “That building has been mostly rebuilt, I’ll have you know, and there were only minor injuries. Besides, we found out that it only happened because of a slight flaw in the quality control process that caused the molecular monomers to become explosively unstable in the presence of gamma radiation. We’ve spent hours this morning checking the sample, and it will not happen again. This time it is going to work.”

Reassured, Tom Jr. relaxed and began to smile. “I’m sure you’re right. At any rate, we’ll find out in a couple hours. The demonstration is right after lunch. Which reminds me – that tomasite is going to be curing for at least another seventy minutes. How’d you like to play a quick game of chess?” His eyes twinkled. “I should have enough time to beat you before it comes out of the oven.”

Irene smiled. “Hey now – I seem to recall winning the last time we played. But what about the reactor you’ve been designing? I don’t think I’ve seen your latest blueprints. Didn’t you bring them with you?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah, I did, but I’m kind of stuck until Dad gets the tomasite perfected. The whole idea behind the miniaturized reactor is that we can use tomasite for shielding, and without actual tomasite to experiment on I’m left with pages of guesswork. Things would be a lot easier if I had some real numbers to work with.”

“I know,” Irene said sympathetically. “I could tell that the delays have been getting to you. But you’ll get there, Tom. Sometimes it just takes longer than you’d think. Besides – ”

“I’m only sixteen,” Tom finished. “I know. I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. Which is why now is a perfect time to be enjoying the company of a distinguished fellow scientist in a ruthless battle of wits.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be off somewhere splitting atoms?” Irene asked coyly, as she walked across the room to get the chess set.

“Positive,” Tom said. “After all, if you’re right, I’ll have actual tomasite this afternoon and can resume my work then with far greater accuracy. Why spend an hour crunching numbers that I’ll just have to re-crunch?”

Irene grabbed the chess set out of the filing cabinet, walked back across the lab, and set it in front of Tom. She sighed. “You’re not very romantic, Tom. You know that, right? That was your opening to say something warm and friendly. Something other than a deep concern about the accuracy of your arithmetic.” She grinned. “Although I agree that is clearly of the utmost importance.”

Tom laughed. “At least I come by it honestly. But don’t give up on me yet, Ace. With your careful guidance I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it eventually! So do you want to be white or black?”

A bolt of lightning flashed across the dark sky, briefly distracting Tom Swift Jr. from the blueprints he had been reading. The nineteen-year-old scientist looked out his laboratory window and quietly watched the thunderstorm rage outside. The Citadel was located in southern Arizona and was bone-dry for most of the year, but Tom had visited the lab on one of its rare rainy days. Looks like quite a storm out there, the young inventor thought to himself. But at least there’s peace in here. I could use a little of that after what I’ve been through.

It had been a long day for Tom, and he was glad to at have a moment of respite. The famous inventor was curled up in an overstuffed easy chair, browsing through the contents of an old yellow binder. Every now and then he would stop on a page and smile. The documents he had in his hands were bringing back memories, and it didn’t take him long to get lost once more in his thoughts.

The past few months had been particularly stressful for him. Ever since he returned from his first interstellar voyage he had been trying to put together an expedition to Neptune. It was there that he had been forced to abandon the Challenger after it was all-but-destroyed in a fierce battle with the Space Legion, and his thoughts had been there ever since. Tom had created many amazing inventions in his career, but the Challenger had a special place in his heart. It was the Challenger that took him to the moon when when he was racing against odds to beat the Brungarians. It was the Challenger that had taken him to Venus as he fought to save Bud Barclay’s life. It had even taken him hundreds of light-years into deep space during his successful attempt to save an alien race on Mars. But now the ship of his dreams was slowly orbiting the great gas giant, waiting for its creator to come and rescue it.

He would have been out there and back by now but the rescue attempt had proven more difficult than he had first imagined. Since there was no viable way to tow the enormous ship back to Earth, he decided to mount a mission to repair it in space – or at least patch it up enough to fly back to Earth. This translated into a lot of sleepless nights as he worked to gather the necessary parts and manpower. The mission was complicated by the fact that a group of aliens on Mars wanted to go with him to establish a colony there, and that meant an enormous amount of coordination had to take place. His space friends were eager to help, but he had never been involved in an interplanetary joint venture before, and was rapidly learning that he’d much rather leave business management to his father and just stick to inventing. And, if all that wasn’t enough, Tom had also run into serious difficulty when trying to perfect his latest invention, the claytronic stones.

The combined stress eventually proved too much for Tom and he decided to flee his home in Shopton, New York and seek a little solitude in his private laboratory at the Citadel. The facility had been built by Swift Enterprises years ago to manufacture plutonium, but fusion technology was quickly making nuclear fission obsolete. While it was still a viable business, Tom knew that the plant’s days were numbered. As lightning flashed across the Arizona sky Tom gazed out the plate-glass window, browsed through the old binder, and became lost in a sea of memories.

After several hours of bliss the young man was rudely interrupted with a person materialized in the middle of his laboratory. Startled, Tom quickly set the binder down and leaped to his feet, and then smiled when he saw who it was.

“Bud!” he said, walking toward the individual. Bud Barclay had been his best friend and loyal companion through many adventures. The two had battled vicious enemies at the bottom of the sea, in the depths of space, and in the jungles of South America. As much as Tom was enjoying his solitude he valued the presence of his friend.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Tom asked, as he shook his hand and offered him a seat. “I thought you were on Fearing putting the last touches on the rescue mission. Aren’t we supposed to leave next week?”

Bud nodded. “Well, I was, but then I had a question to ask you, and nobody knew where you were. I’ve spent hours trying to track you down! Do you realize that I was about to file a missing persons report?”

Tom laughed as the two friends sat down. “I haven’t been gone that long, fly boy. But you’re right – I suppose I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

Bud grinned. “All you have to do is disappear for a few minutes and the whole world falls apart! But I don’t blame you, skipper. I’ve been trying to get you to take a vacation for months. It’s about time you started taking my advice!”

Tom stretched out in the chair and relaxed. “And so I’ve done exactly that! It’s been nice and peaceful here this evening, with no one to pester me but the wind and the rain. In fact, I bet you’d still be looking for me if I hadn’t installed Transmittatons everywhere. If you ask me that device makes it entirely too easy to zip from place to place. A man can hardly get a moment’s peace anymore!”

“Matter transmission is the best thing you’ve ever done, Tom. Do you know how long it would have taken me to fly from Shopton to the Citadel? But thanks to your genius, I can just press a button and – whammo! – here I am. Going to the Citadel was a nice touch, by the way. We’re hardly ever here. I even checked out Nestria and the Outpost in Space before I thought of your old plutonium plant.”

Tom smiled. “You really have been everywhere! Man. But we have been here occasionally, you know. Back when I was working on my Giant Robot we were here all the time. But I suppose that was quite a few inventions ago.”

Bud nodded. “I remember that! Those were good times – I still can’t believe you got that ungainly contraption to play tennis. Although you know, maybe we’d spend more time here if it wasn’t named the Citadel. Do you realize what a terribly unglamorous name that is?”

Tom laughed. “You and your penchant for renaming things! Do I have any inventions left that you haven’t suggested renaming? I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

Bud smiled. “Hey, what’s a sidekick for other than offering brilliant and witty suggestions? But, seriously, Tom. Why not call it Atom City or something? You could have people lining up to come out here! We could charge admission or something after the plant gets mothballed.”

Tom glanced at the binder on the table, and a soft look appeared on his face. “If anything, Bud, it should have been named the Irene Goddard Research Institute. If it wasn’t for her Dad never would have survived to build this place. The Citadel wasn’t our first nuclear project on this particular piece of real estate, you know.”

Bud saw the folder on the table and picked it up. “Project Desert Eagle! Wow – now there’s a blast from the past. You quit giving your inventions cool project names shortly after I came on board.” Tom’s friend looked at him and smiled. “So that’s why you’re here. You’ve been thinking about the hyperplane project, haven’t you?”

Tom clasped his hands together and nodded. “You really can’t blame me, you know. It was my very first invention after I graduated from school. I’d have to say that it was my biggest success and my most dismal failure. It was the start of my career as an inventor, and it came closer to destroying Swift Enterprises than anything else I’ve ever done. But I have to say I owe it all to Irene.”

“And your trusty sidekick,” Bud quipped. “But say, I don’t think I ever heard the whole story. I only got involved at the very end, when you decided to invade Brungaria all by yourself.”

Tom nodded. “I remember that. The whole incident was so classified that I don’t think even Sandy has heard the real story. But – since you were involved – how would you like to hear the whole story?”

Bud settled down into the chair with glee. “Sounds like a blast, skipper! I’m ready for a long tale of science and adventure.”

Tom smiled. “It all started on the day my father perfected tomasite…”

Tom Swift Jr. found himself alone in his laboratory late one November evening. Through the window the eighteen-year-old inventor could see that the sun had set and the stars had begun coming out. Although it was warm inside the lab, outside he saw that a fresh layer of snow had fallen, transforming dreary upstate New York into a winter wonderland.

“My work on the kronolator took so long that I missed Fall altogether,” Tom thought wryly. He had returned to Swift Enterprises only a few weeks ago after an extended stay with his space friends on Mars. The previous months had been some of the busiest of his life, as he attempted to break the light barrier and visit an extrasolar planet hundreds of light-years from Earth. During that adventure Tom had lost all track of time and now realized that Thanksgiving was only a few days away.

After making a few final adjustments to a machine on his workbench Tom walked over to his closet and selected a black suit coat. “I think this dark tie ought to go nicely with my navy-blue shirt,” Tom thought to himself. He put on the coat, walked over to a mirror, and inspected his outfit carefully. As he removed a small bit of lint from his sleeve he heard a buzzing sound come from the door.

The young inventor leaned over and glanced at a nearby television screen, which showed his sister Sandra standing outside his lab. She was wearing a long, black dress and was holding a stylish matching purse. Tom reached over to the wall and pressed a button on the intercom. “You can come on in, Sandy. You do have access to my lab, you know.”

“You’re not really going to make me dig for my ID card, are you?” Sandy asked. “I just did my nails, and besides, it’s impossible to find anything in this purse. Can’t you just open the door?”

Tom sighed and pressed a red button. The massive vault door that guarded the only entrance to his lab gently opened. Sandy quickly stepped through it, and the door shut and locked behind her.

“So how does this look?” Tom asked, turning away from the mirror and toward his sister. “You look great, by the way!”

“Thanks, Tom,” she said. She then stared at Tom’s outfit and frowned. “You don’t happen to own another tie, do you?”

“What do you mean?” he said, glancing down at his tie. “Is there something wrong with this one? I didn’t see any stains on it.”

Sandy shook her head. “No, it’s just that you wore that same tie the last time we had dinner at Gulliver’s. In fact, that’s the only tie I’ve seen you wear in years.”

Tom laughed. “I’m more at home in a striped t-shirt, Sandy. Ties just aren’t my thing. Besides, this evening we’re not going to Gulliver’s.”

“We’re not?” Sandy asked, confused. “I thought you said we were celebrating your birthday at a fancy restaurant downtown.”

Tom shook his head. “You may have thought you heard the word ‘downtown’, but that’s not the word I used. Yes, we are going out with the family to celebrate my birthday, and yes, it’s a classy establishment. But it’s not located downtown.”

“Oh,” Sandy said. “Sorry. Then where are we going?”

“Now that’s the million-dollar question,” Tom said. “The rest of the family is already there – Dad took Mom, Phyl, and Bud over earlier today. He offered to take you as well, but I wanted to do it personally. You are my sister, you know, and this is something a little unusual.”

“Unusual?” Sandy asked. “What’s the name of this place? Have we been there before?”

“Bud was actually the first one to find out about it,” Tom replied. “He told me, and I told Dad. Mom and Phyl didn’t know about it until earlier today, so you’re not the only one who isn’t up-to-speed.”

Tom walked over to his workbench and gently slid a framed oil painting of Aurum City over to the left, revealing a small green square. He gently placed his right index finger over the square and held it there for a second. The square emitted a soft white light, and then clicked. As Tom returned the painting to its original position a metal plate descended over the lab’s only window. The lights in the lab dimmed, and all the security cameras in the room went dead.

An unseen robot suddenly spoke in a quiet monotone. “The room has been secured.”

“What’s going on, Tom?” Sandy asked. “This isn’t one of your new inventions, is it? Do you know how long it took me to get dressed up for dinner? If you’re planning on taking me on some crazy adventure – ”

“This is an invention, yes, but it’s not mine,” Tom corrected. “And we really are going out to celebrate my 35th birthday. We just can’t get there from here, so we’re going to do something that’s highly classified. So highly classified, in fact, that officially it does not exist.”

“Now wait a minute, Tom. Doesn’t 19 come after 18? How could you possibly be 35?”

Tom sighed. “It’s a long story. I built the Flying Lab in 1954 at the age of 18, right?”

“Right,” Sandy said.

“So I was born in 1936,” Tom replied.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what year you were born!” Sandy chided.

“It doesn’t come up very often,” Tom said. “Anyway, this year is 1971, so if you do the math I must be turning 35.”

“1971!” Sandy said, astonished. “I don’t remember it ever being 1955.”

“You can blame Victor Appleton II for that,” Tom said wearily. “Didn’t you ever wonder how it was possible for all those adventures to happen in one year? I mean, think about it. Doesn’t that seem awfully unlikely?”

“I guess,” Sandy said. “I never really thought about it. But who’s this Victor guy?”

“Eh, you might call him a fan of mine. He meant well, but he inadvertently messed up the timestream. I didn’t get it all fixed until this morning, and it took me hours to assess the damage. Technically it’s 1971.”

“I don’t feel any older,” Sandy said.

“I’ll give you Victor’s address so you can send him a thank-you note,” Tom replied.

“I think we’ll stick with you turning 19,” Sandy said at last. “I don’t particularly want to be 34 just yet. You haven’t actually tried to float this timestream theory by anyone else, have you?”

Tom thought for a moment. “Bud and Dad know about it, but no, I haven’t issued any press releases to the general public.”

“Then let’s keep it that way.” Sandy looked down at her watch. “Shouldn’t we be going? I really don’t want to be late.”

“Right!” Tom replied. He walked over to the far wall of his lab and examined it for a few seconds, and then placed his palm firmly on a section of the wall. Sandy could not see anything special about that section of the featureless concrete wall, but after a moment the outline of a doorway began to emerge. After ten seconds a door-sized portion of the wall had simply vanished. Through the hole Sandy could see only blackness.

“Ok, so what am I seeing?” Sandy asked.

“Nothing, yet,” Tom replied. He removed a remote-control from his pocket and entered a series of numbers. A series of notes then sounded from the dark hole in the wall.

“Am I hearing In the Hall of the Mountain King?” Sandy asked, perplexed. “I mean, seriously?”

“That was Bud’s idea, not mine,” Tom Jr. remarked as he put the remote back in his pocket. “He thought it’d be funny. It just tells us that the machine has received the address and is working on establishing a connection. This will take just a minute.”

“So this is a transporter of some kind?”

“Kind of,” Tom said. “It’s like the Transmittaton, only it doesn’t transport us across space or time.”

Sandy frowned. “That pretty much eliminates everything, Tom. So what does it do?”

“You’ll see,” he said, his eyes shining. “It’ll tell us when it’s ready.”

After another minute ticked by, the utter blackness was replaced by a deep, deep blue. A faint light appeared to emanate from small vortexes that swirled in its midst. Out of the void a deep note sounded.

“There we go! It’s all set. Are you ready?” Tom asked, smiling.

“I’m not stepping into that thing until I know what’s going to happen!” Sandy said firmly.

“It’s going to take us to the restaurant,” Tom said soothingly. “You won’t feel a thing. Trust me. Just take my hand and let’s go.”

Sandy bit her lip nervously, then grabbed Tom’s hand. Together the two of them walked through the doorway. The two felt a slight sensation of vertigo, and then it was over. Sandy found herself standing on a stretch of green grass beside a two-lane highway. In front of them was a classy diner, surrounded by old oak trees. The sun was just beginning to set, and a few clouds dotted a dazzling yellow and red sky. A soft wind gently blew Sandy’s long blond hair.

“I thought you said that thing didn’t transport people across space,” Sandy said.

“It doesn’t,” Tom replied. He let go of Sandy’s hand and the two started walking toward the diner. “The scientist that developed it calls it the negative zone. It’s actually for transporting people between universes.”

Sandy stopped in her tracks. “Between what?” she demanded. She suddenly noticed that there were no cars in the parking lot of the diner, although it appeared to be full of customers. “And why is the parking lot empty if this is such a popular place?”

“You can’t get here by car,” Tom replied. “Or by plane. This is actually an island between universes. The negative zone is the only way to get here.”

“Ok,” Sandy said slowly. “But – ”

She was interrupted by a middle-aged gentleman who had just left the diner. He spotted them crossing the parking lot and called out to them. “Tom!” he said, beaming. “You’re Tom Jr., correct?”

Tom walked over to him and shook his hand. “Dr. Hartson Brant! I haven’t seen you in months. How have you been?”

“Very well, I’m pleased to say,” Dr. Brant replied. “Things have quieted down considerably since our run-in with the racing aquadisk. But I hear you’ve been pretty busy lately!”

“The trip to Thanatos was amazing,” Tom replied. “But say, you really should come and see us at Swift Enterprises sometime! You’re welcome whenever you can make it.”

“I’ll be sure to let Rick know,” Dr. Brant replied. “He’s always looking for a bit of excitement! But I know you’ve come here for your birthday, and I don’t want to keep you waiting. It’s nice to meet you at last, Sandy.”

As the gentleman walked off Tom turned to his sister. “He runs a scientific research foundation on a place called Spindrift Island. It’s really quite amazing.”

“What’s that about a racing aquadisk?” Sandy asked. “That sounds like something you would invent.”

“It was invented by a Swift,” Tom admitted. “Just not me. I’m hoping its inventor will be here tonight. I’d like to get his opinion on a few technical issues I’m having with my claytronic stones.”

“And just what is this place?” Sandy asked, as she walked with Tom toward the diner’s entrance.

Tom nodded toward a brass plaque mounted beside the door, which simply read Tom’s.

“You have a restaurant named after you?” Sandy asked in amazement.

“Kind of. Come on in! Dad made the reservation weeks ago, so we shouldn’t have to wait on a table.”

Inside the door they were met by a tall, blond woman wearing an attractive green uniform. A classy nametag proclaimed her name to be Nancy.

“Good evening, Tom,” she said brightly. “And this must be your sister Sandra! It’s so nice to meet you at last – Tom has told me so much about you.”

Sandy smiled, a bit uncertainly. “Thanks,” she said at last.

Nancy turned her attention back to Tom. “The rest of the party has already been seated. Right this way, please!”

“Nancy’s actually a detective,” Tom whispered to his sister. “She works here occasionally, when she’s in-between cases. It’s a good way to pick up new clients. Frank and Joe know her better than I do – they’ve actually worked with her before.”

“Who?” Sandy asked.

Tom nodded over to one corner of the restaurant, where two teenagers were seated in a booth, engaged in a lively discussion. One had dark hair and the other had light blond hair. “Frank and Joe Hardy. They’re detectives too, actually. I’ll try to introduce you to them later.”

As the waitress led them to the back of the restaurant Sandy took a moment to look the place over. From the outside it looked deceptively small, but inside she could see that it was very roomy. The entire place was made of a very elegant, deep-colored wood, and the lights were kept dim enough to create a sense of intimacy. Each table was set with fine crystal plates and glasses, and the silverware appeared to be made of genuine silver. Even the napkins were embroidered with an elegant T.

What surprised her the most, however, were the interior decorations. The walls of the restaurant were tactfully decorated with pictures of inventions. Some of them she recognized as belonging to Tom and his father, but others were a complete mystery to her. “What a strange place,” she thought. “Who puts pictures of spectromarine selectors on their wall?”

When they reached the rear of the restaurant Sandy saw that they had been given a private room. A long, mahogany table was positioned in the center of the room, and a crowd of people were milling about, talking. She recognized her father, her mother, Phyl, Chow, Ned Newton, and Bud Barclay, along with several other people she did not recognize.

“Your menus are on the table,” Nancy said, as she ushered them into the room. “Bess will be your waitress this evening. She’ll be with you in a moment.” With that, she departed.

“Sandy!” Bud said, as soon as she entered the room. “I’m glad you could make it. You look terrific!”

“Thanks,” Sandy said. “I just can’t believe you’re actually wearing a suit. The last time we went out for Tom’s birthday – ” and then she stopped. “Come to think of it, you weren’t there, were you?”

“I’m afraid not,” Bud said. “I missed his 18th birthday, and I didn’t know him when he turned 17. But say, let me introduce you to a few people!” He led her over to two strangers that had been talking to her father. To her surprise, both of them had blond hair, and they both looked amazingly like her brother. The older of the two introduced himself first. “I’m Tom Swift,” he said, shaking her hand.

“And I’m Tom Swift as well,” the younger one said. “But since we all answer to the name of Tom you can call him Tom III, and me Tom IV.”

“Tom four?” Sandy asked, as she sat down at her seat.

Tom IV sighed. “It’s a long story, and I won’t get into it now.”

Sandy put her purse down on the table and gave Tom IV a steely gaze. “Young man, I highly suggest you do get into it now. A few moments ago I was about to go out to dinner with my family. Now I find myself in some other universe that is apparently filled with clones of my brother.”

“Just a minute,” Tom Jr. said, interrupting. “Where are the other Toms?”

Tom IV spoke up. “Tom V was here earlier, but he got a call and had to go. He said he had to stop a group of terrorists from sabotaging a robotic competition.”

“No, that was last time, ” Tom III said. “I thought he said something about a force shield.”

“That was my adventure, not his,” Tom IV argued. “I’m positive that somebody was trying to sabotage something, and he had to go stop it.”

“As you can see, we really weren’t paying too close attention,” Tom III told Tom Jr. “Sorry. But he apologized for missing your birthday and said he would try to make it next time. He left his gift over there in the corner.” He nodded toward a long table next to the door, which was piled high with presents.

“But what about the TSL Swift?” Tom Jr. asked. “He’s always here!”

Tom III shrugged. “He didn’t RSVP, so I guess he’s busy. Last I heard he was working on a time machine.”

“No, I don’t think he’s built one of those yet,” Tom IV said. “I believe he was building his subocean geotron.”

“If you ask me he’s already built a time machine,” Tom Sr. commented. “He keeps going back and forth in the time continuum. I don’t know how he keeps his head on straight. Now you’ve done some time traveling of your own, haven’t you, son?”

Sandy interrupted. “What is going on here?”

Tom IV spoke up. “I’m sorry, Sandra. I know this all seems a bit weird. I think this affects everybody that way. Even I was shocked when it first happened.”

“You have no idea,” Sandy said.

“But I do have a sister named Sandra,” Tom IV replied. “She’s kind of like you, actually, and she would so freak out if I brought her here. But I’m getting off target. This all started a while ago when I accidentally developed a way to travel between universes. I called it the negative zone.”

Sandy nodded. “That’s what Tom called that weird machine in his lab. He said it transports people between universes.”

“That’s exactly right,” Tom IV said. “Only your brother has a very much refined version. You should have seen the first model! Man, but was it awful. I won’t go into what happened the first time I tried it. It’s sufficient to say that it was a long time before I messed with that technology again.”

Tom IV paused a moment to gather his thoughts, and then continued. “One thing that I did learn during that adventure was that there were other universes out there, complete with other Tom Swifts. In my own universe I am Tom Swift Jr. and work at Swift Enterprises, just like your brother.”

“Only your plant is located in California,” Tom Swift Jr. replied.

Tom IV nodded. “Personally I like California a lot better – beautiful beaches, lots of sunshine, and no snow whatsoever.”

“I’m with you there!” Bud agreed.

“I think we’ll stick with New York,” Tom Sr. replied. “But go on with your tale.”

“Well, one day I got to thinking, and wondered what other Tom Swifts might be out there. People say that space is the final frontier, but it’s small potatoes compared to parallel universes! So I rebuilt the negative zone and started experimenting. What I discovered was a vast treasure trove of amazing people and places.”

“I think I get it,” Sandy interrupted. “You built this diner as an in-between-universe type place, where you and your friends could get together and meet. And to get here you installed your invention in the other universes you’d found.”

“Exactly,” Tom IV said. “It took a lot of work, but I think it was worth it. I’ve met some of the most amazing people, and I know I’ve only started scratching the surface.”

A waitress then entered the room, carrying a small notebook. “And what can I get you to drink?” she asked.

After everyone gave their order she left the room, and the crowd took their seats around the table. Tom Sr. sat at the head of the table. Sandy ended up sitting between her brother and Bud, across from Tom III and Tom IV.

“So let me see if I have this straight,” Sandy said slowly, as they looked over their menus. “You’re Tom IV and you live in California in an alternate universe. Did you also invent a Flying Lab, and a jetmarine, and a rocket ship, so forth?”

Tom III laughed. “Not hardly! No, his first invention was a flying skateboard.”

“But I thought my brother said that one of you invented a subocean geotron,” Sandy said.

“That was TSL,” Tom Jr. corrected. “His universe is the closest to mine. Some things are different, but a lot of his main inventions are the same. Tom Swift III and IV come from totally different universes, though.”

“Yeah,” Tom IV said. “My most recent invention was a quantum force shield.”

“I’ve got to get one of those,” Tom Jr. commented. “That would have been so useful when the Space Legion took over the Challenger.”

“True, true, but I just don’t think our worlds are ready for inter-universal travel,” Tom IV said. “I mean, really. Can you imagine if word of this place leaked out?”

“I don’t know, Tom. I’m slowly warming to the idea,” Sandy replied. “I mean, my brother just got himself turned into brain energy. After you’ve seen that you’ve seen everything! Now what about you, Tom III? Do you also live in California?”

Tom III shook his head. “Nope. I live in Shopton, but it’s located in New Mexico, of all places – and I don’t even like the desert! But I spend most of my time in space anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“He’s the only Tom I’ve found so far that doesn’t really invent,” Tom IV remarked.

“That’s true,” Tom III said. “I mean, I’ve built a few things – like a hyperspacial drive, and my robot Aristotle – but mostly I explore the galaxy and get into lots of trouble.”

“I don’t know how you can stand it,” Tom Jr. said. “I’ve always got to be inventing something.”

Tom Sr. spoke up. “Now that is the truth. I believe you were even inventing something when you were imprisoned on the Challenger.”

“Now that’s dedication!” Tom III said. “What are you working on this time?”

“I’m experimenting with programmable matter,” Tom Jr. replied. “It’s a bit tricky to do, but I think it has a lot of promise. We’ll see, though. There are so many problems to work out.”

At that point Bess returned with their drinks. “And what would you like for dinner?” she asked. After taking their orders she left the room.

“I get the feeling you’ve met here before,” Sandy said. “How long have you guys known about each other?”

“A few months,” Tom Jr. said. “It’s been a pretty recent development. Bud was actually the first one to find out about it. He kept trying to tell me, but I was so wrapped up in my work on the kronolator that I didn’t pay any attention. But once I returned from Mars I met with Tom IV and we installed the negative zone in my lab.”

Tom IV nodded. “We were going to get together to discuss your brother’s recent adventure on Thanatos, but then Bud mentioned he had a birthday coming up. So we figured we’d celebrate that instead, and would put off our discussion of Thanatos until later. By the way,” he said, turning to Tom III, “you don’t happen to have a copy of that report, do you?”

“Of course,” Tom III said. “I finished writing it last week.” He reached down to a briefcase that was resting beside his chair and pulled out a stack of documents.

“Ah, I see you’ve brought the notes!” Tom Sr. said.

“Notes?” Sandy asked. “You mean they get written reports of my brother’s adventures?”

Tom Jr. nodded. “And we’ve got reports of everything they’ve done. Tom III has spent a lot of time putting them together. They’re in my lab – I’ll show them to you one day. They make for some excellent reading.”

Sandy grabbed a copy of the report and looked at it. “Tom Swift and his Extrasolar Planet?” she asked incredulously.

“You’ve got to call it something,” Tom III said. “I considered calling it Tom Swift and his Kronolator but that just didn’t have the same ring to it. Incidentally, Tom, nice job on your faster-than-light drive. You took a completely different approach than I did.”

“Your approach works too,” Tom Jr. said. “We should compare notes sometime, and see how the Challenger compares to the Exedra.”

“I thought you’d abandoned your ship around Neptune,” Tom III replied. “Are you going to rescue it?”

“I know the answer to that!” Sandy said. “He’s already putting a mission together to go repair it. I bet we’ll be back at Neptune by the end of the year.”

“I’m surprised he’s waiting that long,” Tom III said. “What’s the hold-up?”

“I’ve been trying to coordinate a joint venture with my space friends,” Tom Jr. explained. “They’d like to come with us and explore the Space Legion’s now-abandoned fortress. Plus there are a few logistical hurdles, and I’d like to finish my claytronic stones before going out there. They could come in handy.”

Tom IV shook his head. “Man, but are you lucky! I can’t believe you can fly all over the solar system and meet with aliens on Mars and nobody bats an eye. Has the government found out yet that you’ve developed a working interstellar drive?”

“I think Ned sent out a press release,” Tom Jr. said vaguely. “In a meeting last week he said the Swift Construction Company has started building a factory to manufacture kronolators. He thinks they’ll be hot sellers, even at the astronomical prices he’s charging.”

“I have also been engaged in high-level talks with Washington,” Tom Sr. said. “The government is aware of our recent activities.”

“And they don’t mind?” Tom IV said. “Wow! Recently the Hardys and I got mixed up with an alien and my government had a cow. They have a zero-tolerance policy for that kind of thing. It almost got us killed.”

“You’re just out of luck,” Tom III said sympathetically. “I meet with aliens all the time.”

“Yeah, but it’s different for you,” Tom IV said. “You live in a space-faring society that’s used to that sort of thing. Where I come from space flight is still Big News.”

“I’ve just got to read those reports,” Sandy said. “I’m sorry, but this is way over my head. You’ve lost me. I’m intrigued, but I’m lost.”

“You’ll get up to speed soon,” Tom Jr. assured her. “It’s not as intimidating as it seems.”

“How many people know about this?” Sandy asked.

“It is a top, top, top secret,” Tom Jr. replied. “The only people we’ve told are the people right here in this room. Even our government doesn’t know.”

“I don’t intend on telling mine,” Tom IV replied. “They get so upset over things like this.”

“So why tell me?” Sandy asked. “I mean, we could have just gone to Gulliver’s tonight, and you could have kept this little club all to yourselves. It’s pretty unusual for me to get mixed up in things like this.”

Tom IV. smiled. “Because you’ve begun to have adventures of your own, Sandy! Adventures that qualify you for a seat at Tom’s. Piloting the Cosmotron Express was just the start. In the not-too-distant future you, Phyllis, and Bingo will begin to investigate the last flight of the Silver Cloud.”

“Bingo?” Sandy asked. “Is that a person?”

Tom Jr. shrugged. “Don’t look at me. He’s the one with the time machine.”

“You’ve got a time machine?” Sandy said, startled.

Tom IV shook his head. “It’s more of a time trigger. But you don’t want to go there, Sandy. At one time in my universe I was actually the grandson of Barton Swift, just like your brother, but then things went bad and I’ve never been able to put the pieces back together. Time travel is a can of worms you do not want to open.”

“TSL is going to open it,” Tom III pointed out. “I don’t know how it will play out, but that’s what I’ve heard.”

“I pity him,” Tom IV said. “He’ll never be the same.”

Bess returned, carrying a bewildering array of plates. A robot followed behind her, holding the rest of their dinner.

“Aristotle!” Tom III cried out, as he saw his robot carrying the party’s dinner. “What are you doing here?”

“If Rob is qualified to work here then surely I also possess the necessary talent,” the robot replied. “I refuse to be outdone by that ignorant biped.”

“Who’s Rob?” Sandy whispered to her brother, as Bess handed them their food.

“A robot that Tom IV built,” Tom Jr. whispered back. “He’s the chef – but just for tonight. Tom thought it’d be a good experience for him.”

“Chow would go nuts if you replaced him with a robot,” Sandy said.

“Shhh, he’ll hear you,” her brother cautioned.

“Can I get you anything else?” Bess asked brightly.

“I believe we have everything we need,” Tom Sr. said. Bess and Aristotle then walked out of the room. Before they started eating, however, Bud rose to his feet.

“This meal looks truly amazing, but before we eat I propose a toast to Swifts. May their adventures never end!”

The dinner lasted for hours, as they laughed and talked far into the night. It was an evening that Sandra would never forget – the first of many enchanted evenings at Tom’s.

Sandra Swift sat on the bridge of the Cosmotron Express and looked through the window at the giant planet Neptune. Her father, Tom Swift Sr., sat beside her. A few hours ago the bridge had been a flurry of activity, but it was now empty except for the two of them. A clock on the wall indicated that it was almost midnight.

Bud Barclay stepped out of the elevator and onto the bridge. “So there you are,” he said. “I figured I’d find you here.”

Sandy turned her head and smiled. “I don’t get to visit Neptune very often, you know,” she said teasingly. “I’d better make the most of it while I still have the chance! Dad is threatening to ground me for the rest of my life.”

Tom Sr. laughed quietly. “You gave me quite a shock, young lady! I still don’t know what possessed you to come out here and rescue us, but I’m glad you did. You handled yourself like a true Swift.”

“Speaking of Swifts, how’s my brother doing?” Sandy asked Bud. “Has he regained consciousness? I heard the initial report, but nothing since then.”

Bud nodded. “He’s fine. He came to a little while ago, and then drifted off to sleep. The doctor tells me he had a rather nasty blow to the head. He’ll be fine, though. After all, the Swifts are legendary for being hard-headed.”

“I think you’re coming down with a bit of that yourself, Bud,” Tom Sr. said. After all of the stress of the past few days he finally felt able to relax. “I’m surprised you were able to drag my son out of the Challenger. He’s never been one to abandon ship, and he really hates losing. I still remember what it was like to lose the Red Cloud when the ice caves collapsed. Tom’s never had to deal with that before.”

Bud agreed. “I was by his side an hour ago when he regained consciousness, and I talked to him for a few minutes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that we would have to leave the Challenger behind, though. Someone else will have to break that news to him.”

“What’s that?” Sandy asked, surprised. “I thought it was salvageable.”

“I’m afraid not,” Tom Sr. replied. “It’s suffered more damage than I first thought. Both the fusion plant and the solar collectors are destroyed, and the robots did quite a job on the interior. It will take weeks of work to make it spaceworthy again, and we don’t have the resources with us to fix it or to tow it back home. One day we’ll have to make another expedition out here and repair it. Until then it will remain a satellite of Neptune.”

“Oh – that reminds me,” Bud replied. “I knew I came up here for a reason. The crew has finished moving the Challenger‘s Transmittation to Hangar 4 and they need your help putting it back together.”

“I’m on my way,” Tom Sr. said. “Are you sure they’ve moved all the parts? I’d hate to get halfway to Mars only to find out that we’re missing a key component and can’t beam the translators to the surface.”

“That’s what they tell me, but only you or Tom would know,” Bud replied.

Tom Sr. nodded. “I’ll go check, then. If everything is there I’ll let you know, Sandy, and you can take us to Mars. I believe our space friends are expecting us to arrive no later than tomorrow afternoon.”

Sandy nodded. “I’ll get you there on time, Dad. Don’t worry.” Tom Sr. then walked over to the elevator and took it downstairs, leaving Bud and Sandy alone on the bridge.

Bud sat down beside Sandy and relaxed. “Man, it’s been quite a day,” he said at last. As he settled down into the chair he could feel his body cry out in pain. He had spent a few hours in the infirmary himself, getting his broken ribs x-rayed and cared for.

“And how are you, Bud?” Sandy asked. “I’ve heard you weren’t exactly uninjured yourself.”

“Eh, you know how doctors are,” Bud said flippantly. “They tell me it’ll be weeks before I can start fighting evil robots from outer space again. It’s awful.”

Sandy shot Bud an anxious look. “I just can’t believe you guys. Are you crazy? Do you know how close you came to dying out there? If you had done so much as lost your grip on the gun in the elevator you would have both fallen, and – ”

Bud saw that the stress of the day was finally getting to Sandy, and he tried to calm her down. “We’re fine, Sandy, honest, and we’re going to be on our way home in a moment. I won’t say that I didn’t have my doubts, but we got through it, and that’s the main thing. It was really brave of you to come out here and rescue us.”

Sandy looked at Bud and tried to smile. “I’m sorry, Bud. I’m just not used to all of this. I really had no idea what it was actually like, being out here, on one of your adventures. Please tell me they’re not all this dangerous.”

“Sometimes they are, but not always,” Bud said. “I remember when the asteroid pirates took over Nestria and we flew the Challenger into the antimatter barrier for the first time. Let me tell you, that was tense. But there are a lot of good times too, Sandy. It’s not all bad.”

Sandy sighed. “You do realize that most people go their entire lives without getting their consciousness trapped in an alien machine, right? Has Tom ever considered finding a new hobby? I hear that gardening can be a real blast.”

Bud laughed. “You say that as if your brother deliberately caused all this! I’d watch your back, though, Sandy. You’ve already started taking the first steps into the wild world of Tom Swift. Before you know it you’ll be caught up in your own adventures, and then Tom and I will have to come and rescue you.”

The intercom beeped, interrupting Bud. Sandy switched it on, and Tom Sr.’s voice came through the intercom. “It looks like we have everything we need, Sandy. You can take us to Mars.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll take care of everything. We should be there by morning.”

For the next few minutes Sandy worked at the controls, first contacting the alien fleet and then laying in the course for Mars. When everything was set she engaged the repelatron drive, and the ship began moving away from Neptune. It did not take the planet long to disappear from view.

Bud glanced at the radar console and saw that the alien fleet was keeping pace with the Cosmotron Express. “Say, you never did tell me what happened when we were trying to escape from the Challenger,” he said. “Why didn’t the space friends take care of the robots for us? I mean, after all, that was the plan!”

“They were kind of busy,” Sandy said, as she monitored the ship’s systems. When she was satisfied that everything was in order she turned her attention back to Bud. “I’d better start at the beginning. As you know, Uncle Ned and I took this ship to Mars, where we met with the space friends’ fleet. We then charted a course for Neptune and set out.”

“I’m guessing all their ships are robotic,” Bud replied.

Sandy nodded in agreement. “Well, as it turned out, we beat you to Neptune by about a half-hour. As soon as we got close to Neptune everything went nuts. It turned out the Space Legion actually had a fairly tough fleet, and the battle got pretty intense. We mostly tried to stay out of it until the Challenger appeared, and it showed up right in the thick of things. That’s when the fight got really ugly. We began beaming you out as soon as we could, but it didn’t take long to start sustaining damage.”

“Like your propulsion system and transporter,” Bud said.

“Exactly. One the transporter went out, all we could do was hope that the rest of you would be able to find a way off the Challenger. The space friends had their hands full, and we were dead in space. I figured Tom would find a way to get you guys off the ship, but when everyone but you and him were beamed over and then we didn’t hear anything else, we – ” and Sandy stopped, as her emotions rose to the surface. “We thought we’d lost you,” she said softly.

“We were just delayed a bit,” Bud said easily. “You know how it goes. Some aliens just don’t have any respect for your calendar or to-do list. But man, this time our space friends really had bad timing. It figures that they would remove the robots from the Challenger just minutes after we abandoned ship. Oh well. At least we were able to salvage enough parts from it to get this ship going again. It would’ve been a long walk home.”

After a moment Sandy spoke up. “Somehow I have a feeling it won’t be long before you and Tom are out here again. You know he won’t rest until he gets his ship back.”

“And somehow I have a feeling that you’re going to want to join him on that little expedition,” Bud said. “I just can’t believe it. Whatever happened to staying home and knitting? I hear that crocheting is all the rage these days.”

“If you’re looking for a sedentary girl that stays at home, Bud, you shouldn’t date a Swift,” Sandy retorted. “Just don’t make me come and rescue you again. After all, what if I had been the one at the dentist?”

Bud laughed. “Just get us to Mars, Sandy. I’m going to go get some sleep. It’s good to be back.”

The following afternoon, the Cosmotron Express was in orbit around Mars. Every single person on the ship had gathered onto the spacious bridge, filling it to capacity. Even Tom Swift Jr. was present, sitting comfortably in a chair. He was bruised and had his arm in a sling, but his blue eyes were as sharp as ever, and he had an expression of pure joy.

“Well brand my spacedust, Tom, but that there is a bee-you-teeful sight,” Chow Winkler exclaimed. He was standing in front of the window on the bridge, gazing out at the planet below. The ship was in low orbit around Mars, and everyone could see the beautiful mountains and canyons of the Red Planet. Today the view was simply breathtaking.

“One day it will be even more beautiful,” Tom Jr. replied. “These two translators that we’re about to beam down will give our space friends everything they need to bring Mars to life. Eventually this planet will look just like their original home world.”

“At least, it will if you have anything to say about it,” Bud replied, needling his friend. “I sense another project in your future!”

Tom shrugged. “You could be right. There’s always another invention on the horizon.”

“We’re receiving a transmission from the planet below,” James Nathan announced. He paused a moment as the ship’s electronic brain decoded the message. “It appears that the space friends are ready to receive the translators.”

Tom Jr. smiled. “Beam the translators to the planet, James, and give our space friends our regards.”

James pressed a few buttons on the console. A moment later Sandra Swift spoke up. “We’ve had a successful transmission.”

Everyone cheered. “You did it, Tom!” Bud said, clapping his friend on the back. Tom winced. “Sorry,” Bud replied, grinning.

“I’d have to say this was a joint effort,” Tom Jr. said. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you. This has been an amazing experience.”

“And one that I hope we never, ever go through again,” Tom Sr. said.

“I second that motion,” Ned Newton agreed.

“We’re getting another message from the surface,” James Nathan replied. “Our space friends are asking us to stand by.”

Tom Jr. smiled. Bud looked at him and frowned. “You’re up to something,” Bud said accusingly.

“Let’s just say I have a hunch,” Tom replied.

A few minutes ticked by. “So what’s next on your agenda, Tom?” Ned Newton said at last. “Now that you’ve conquered the ocean floor and the depths of space, what’s left?”

“It’s hard to say,” Tom replied. “There is so much that needs to be done! We’ve only just begun to explore the stars, and there are still frontiers on our own world that we haven’t touched. It’s impossible to say where we’re going to go next.” It would not long, however, until Tom was soon deeply involved in his next great invention, Tom Swift and his Claytronic Stones.

James Nathan spoke up. “We’re being hailed from the surface, sir. The space friends are requesting permission to come aboard.”

Tom Jr. and his father exchanged glances. “This is it!” Tom Jr. said excitedly. “All these years of effort have come down to this moment.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “Let’s not keep them waiting, Son.”

“Tell them that permission is granted,” Tom Jr. announced.

James relayed the message to the surface of the planet. Moments later, the bridge was filled with a soft, white light. When the light faded they saw a tall, elderly gentleman standing in the middle of the bridge. The man was easily six and a half feet tall, and had brown eyes and thinning grey hair. He was dressed in a long, brown robe, tied about the middle with a white belt. He scanned the crowd for a moment and then saw Tom Jr. sitting in a chair.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Tom,” he said, as he reached out his hand. “Allow me to extend the warmest thanks to you on behalf of my people.”

Tom Jr. struggled to get up out of his chair. Bud helped him to his feet. “We’ve been honored to know you,” Tom Jr. said. “Have we met before?”

“Indeed we have,” the man said, smiling. He grasped Tom’s hand and shook it firmly. “Don’t you remember? When I traveled to your world you made a most elegant metal case for me. I believe I aided you in fighting a mortal enemy – the Brungarians, or something like that.”

Tom’s eyes widened, and some of the crewmembers gasped. “You mean you’re Exman?” Tom said.

“I prefer the name Jack, but Exman will work,” he replied agreeably.

“Hey Tom,” Bud said, nudging his friend. “Not to interrupt your historic occasion or anything, but why can you shake his hand? I didn’t think projected light was that solid.”

Jack turned to Bud. “We have not been idle during all those years we spent on Mars, young Barclay. For some time we have known how to leave the translators and retake physical form, much as you yourself did. The problem was that our translator had been damaged over the centuries, and was nearly destroyed in a violent earthquake not long ago. Had you not brought these replacements our race would have perished. Thanks to all of you, however, we have been given a new lease on life. We are in your debt.”

“It was kind of touch and go there for a while,” Bud said. “We were glad to do it and all, but if it’s all the same with you I’d rather not tangle with the Space Legion again!”

“They have been dealt with,” Jack told Bud. “Rest assured that they will not trouble you any longer. They will survive, but their ability to trouble others has been forever taken from them. All of you have truly accomplished a great deal in a very small amount of time.”

Jack then turned and addressed the entire crew. “It is my pleasure to invite all of you to our city on the planet below. Please, come and be our honored guests. There is much we would like to show you, and it has been many generations since we last sat down with your people face-to-face. Preparations are now under way for the evening meal, and we would like for you to share it with us.”

Bud smiled. “How can you turn down an offer like that, Tom? You know what they say – it’s sure to be a real out-of-this-world experience!”

“Where are you, Tom?” Bud Barclay asked quietly. He was standing in the doorway to the transporter room, still clutching his EMP emitter. It was pitch black. “I can’t see a thing!”

A hand reached out and grabbed Bud. “There you are,” Tom Jr. said. “C’mon – Dad’s lab is just down the hall, to the right.”

Tom started sprinting down the hallway in the darkness, and Bud ran after him as best he could. Bud suddenly slammed into the far wall and gasped in pain. After reorienting himself he touched the wall and began feeling for the laboratory door. Over to his right he could hear Tom muttering.

“It’s not taking my ID card,” Tom said at last.

“You do realize the power has been turned off, right?” Bud said.

“I know,” Tom sighed. “At least the electromagnets holding the door closed should be dead. Here – help me slide the door open.”

Bud finally reached the door, and together the two of them were able to slide it into the wall. Inside the lab they could see a few faint lights, but they were not bright enough to illuminate the room. Tom and Bud quickly stepped inside and then slid the door shut again.

Tom walked over to the right and fumbled around in the darkness. Bud heard a thud, then a crash, and then a few groans.

“Are you all right?” Bud asked.

“Just give me a minute,” Tom replied. A moment later a beam of white light pierced the darkness.

“I knew there was a flashlight around here somewhere,” Tom said. He directed it around the room and saw that he had knocked over a telejector. Small electronic parts and bits of broken glass were now scattered all over the floor.

“Where are all those faint lights coming from?” Bud asked.

“Some of Dad’s equipment is powered by solar batteries,” Tom explained. “I think we’re safe in here for the moment.”

Bud walked over to the center of the room and picked up Tom’s holographic penetrator, which he aimed at the door. He gave his EMP emitter to Tom. “If anything tries to get in through the door I’ll be able to spot it and shoot it.”

“Sounds good,” Tom said distractedly. He was scanning his father’s workbench, looking for something. “We need time to come up with a plan.”

“I’m way ahead of you,” Bud replied. “Let’s go to the hangar, grab the Extrasolar II, and get out of here. We can zip over to the Cosmotron Express and they can take us back to Earth.”

Tom shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I get my ship back, Bud. The Space Legion is not going to get away with the Challenger.”

Outside they heard a clanking noise. It grew louder, and then faded down the hall.

“They’re looking for us, Tom,” Bud said. “It’s not going to take them long to realize that we left the transporter room and came here. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. We’ve got to abandon ship while we still can.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Tom insisted. “There’s just got to be. We know the Transmittaton is still functional. If we can somehow restore power to it – ”

“And how are you going to find the robots, Tom? The transporter can’t detect them! The Cosmotron Express has a lot better chance of retaking this ship than we do.”

As they argued, Bud noticed that the door to the lab was starting to slide open. Tom and Bud immediately stopped talking. Tom clicked off his flashlight and quietly crouched behind some equipment, and Bud activated the holographic penetrator and peered onto its display. As the door slid open he could see the outline of a robotic hand pushing against the door.

Bud fired the penetrator’s EMP emitter, and then fired it again. The hand jerked off the door and threw off sparks, and finally disappeared out of his range of vision. Bud waited a moment and then slowly walked up to the door, using the penetrator’s display to work his way through the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Tom whispered.

“Quiet!” Bud ordered.

After Bud made it to the crack in the door he scanned the hallway with the penetrator. Once he had verified that there were no other robots in sight he dragged the downed robot into the lab and slid the door shut.

“If we left it outside it would be a dead giveaway,” Bud explained. “But Tom, we’ve got to get out of here. We can’t retake this ship by ourselves. We need to go while we still have a chance.”

Tom sighed, and turned his flashlight back on. “I guess you’re right. Let’s go.”

“Leave the flashlight off – it’s a dead giveaway,” Bud said. “I’ll lead with the penetrator. Just put your hand on my shoulder and stay behind me. We’ll go to the stairwell and then take the stairs to the hangar.”

Tom turned off the flashlight and got into position. Bud then crouched behind the door, slid it open, and scanned for robots. None were in sight. The two cautiously made their way to the stairwell at the far end of the hallway. All around them was complete darkness. When they were halfway to the stairwell they felt the floor start to rumble.

Bud grabbed Tom and hustled him into a doorway. “What’s that?” he asked.

Tom frowned. “I’m not sure, Bud. It could be – ”

Before he could finish, they both heard a metal grinding sound in the stairwell up ahead. A bright light suddenly shone from beneath the cracks of the stairwell door, followed immediately by a thunderous explosion! The door was blown into the hallway, narrowly missing Tom, and smoke poured out of the ruins.

Bud used the penetrator to scan through the smoke. “This is bad,” he said. “Very, very bad.”

“The stairwell has collapsed?” Tom asked.

Bud nodded. “It’s now buried under tons of steel. The robots must have wanted to make sure that we remained trapped down here.”

Tom stared thoughtfully at the penetrator’s display. “At least they can’t get to us now.”

“Right,” Bud said. “Because there is no way they could possibly cut a hole in the ceiling and drop down on top of us. Evil metal robots from space are incapable of cutting holes. Or of taking the elevator, come to think of it.”

Tom winced. “Ok, so maybe I was a little off-base there. But the elevator is not a bad idea. Why not use it to reach the hangar?”

“How are you going to climb up the shaft with no power, Tom?” Bud asked.

“Come with me,” Tom said. He and Bud raced back to Tom Sr.’s lab, where Tom took out his flashlight and made his way to the workbench. He scanned it for a second and then grabbed two silver machines that looked like futuristic pistols.

“Ah, repelatron guns!” Bud said. “I see what you’re thinking.” He took one from Tom and put it in his pocket as Tom turned off his flashlight. The two of them then ran out of the lab, down the hallway, and to the elevator.

Bud scanned the hallway. “I’m not seeing any more robots,” he said at last. “I don’t like it.”

“They probably know the elevator shaft is our only way out,” Tom replied.

“Which makes me like it even less,” Bud replied. “But at least we’re on the lowest level of the ship. They can’t come at us from both directions.”

Tom pointed his repelatron gun at the elevator door, switched the gun into low-power mode, and pulled the trigger. The doors held for a second, then buckled, and then collapsed inward. Before stepping into the shaft Bud took a few steps back and used his penetrator to scan the area. Before he had completed his search, however, a small metal sphere dropped down the shaft and landed on the floor. It began to give off a soft white light.

“Tom – run!” Bud shouted. Tom saw the bomb and began running away, but he was too late. The sphere erupted into a ball of flame and blew the elevator shaft apart. A violent shockwave hurtled Tom down the hallway, where he violently crashed into the far wall. His flashlight clattered to the floor. Bud watched in horror as he slumped to the ground, unconscious. He quickly grabbed the flashlight and raced over to his friend.

“Stay with me, Tom,” Bud whispered as he checked his pulse. He glanced over to the elevator shaft and saw that the blast had blown a wide hole where the elevator doors used to be. There was a clear path up into the shaft.

“This is going to be tough,” Bud thought. He was still in pain from his own encounter with the robots, and knew it would be difficult for him to carry Tom upstairs. Bud first checked Tom’s injuries. “Hmmm. A nasty blow to the head, but no obvious signs of bleeding. There may be internal injuries, though. He hit the wall pretty hard.”

Bud quickly thought the situation over. The infirmary was located several levels upstairs, which placed it well out of reach. “The lab probably has medical supplies somewhere, but I really don’t have that kind of time. I’ve got to get Tom out of here before the metalheads realize we’re still alive.”

As carefully as he could Bud hoisted Tom over his shoulder and carried him into the elevator shaft. He then took out the flashlight, turned it on, and put it in his shirt pocket. The flashlight shot a brilliant beam of light straight up into the shaft. After making one last scan with his penetrator he backed into a corner, aimed the repelatron gun at the floor, and held down the trigger. The force of the repelatron pressed him into the corner of the shaft, and they both started to rise off the floor.

“The hangars are two levels above us,” Bud thought. He looked down at the repelatron gun, which was humming quietly. “I sure hope this thing holds out. Man, am I hurting. Why couldn’t the artificial gravity have gone out with the lights? That would have made this so much easier.”

The climb in the darkness was excruciating. Bud held both the repelatron gun and the flashlight with one hand, and with his other arm he held his unconscious friend. Bud found it very difficult to hold Tom and maintain his balance, and he did not have a free hand for the penetrator, which he was carrying under his arm. He realized that if the robots found him in the shaft there was no way he could defend himself without dropping Tom. On top of that, it was very difficult to hold the repelatron gun steady. “The gun just wasn’t designed for this,” Bud thought wistfully.

When he finally rose to the floor that contained the hangar Bud saw that the elevator doors were closed. “I should have known,” he thought, grimacing. He gently backed off the power on his repelatron gun so that they would stop rising. After staring at the doors for a moment, he used the arm that was holding Tom to reach into his friend’s pocket, where Tom had placed his repelatron gun. Once he had the second gun in his grasp Bud aimed it at the door and fired.

The blast blew apart the two doors and knocked them into the hallway. It also jerked the gun out of Bud’s hand, and knocked Bud off-balance. As the gun clattered down the elevator shaft he struggled to hold onto Tom and keep from plunging into the darkness. In desperation he used his feet to push off of the elevator shaft wall and launched himself into the hallway.

As he landed he heard a clanking noise approaching. Bud dropped everything, grabbed the penetrator from under his arm, and did a quick scan of the hallway. He saw nothing.

“You’re out there,” he muttered. “I’ll find you yet.”

While still clutching the penetrator, Bud hoisted Tom over his shoulder again, turned off the flashlight, and started making his way down the hallway. It was pitch black, but the penetrator’s screen offered a view of the surrounding area. He crept slowly along one wall and continued to watch his back, convinced that something was following him.

When he had almost reached the hangar he heard something clatter down the hall. He whirled around just in time to see a small metal sphere roll toward him. Bud aimed the penetrator at it and fired an EMP blast. The sphere emitted a few sparks, but it did not explode.

Sweat poured off of Bud’s brow. He was becoming weak from exertion. “I’m almost there,” he told himself. When he reached the hangar door he stopped and looked at it. “Let’s assume this room is full of metalheads,” he thought grimly. Bud carefully opened the door and then stared firing wildly, raking the entire room with waves of EMP. He felt something shake the floor under him, and saw groups of brilliant white sparks flare all over the hangar. As he stood in the doorway and scanned the room he saw that there were four robots inside. All of them were on the floor, disabled.

When Bud stepped through the hangar door he heard a clanking sound behind him. He immediately lunged inside and slammed the door behind him. As he ran away from the door and into the darkness of the hangar he heard a tremendous roar in the hallway. The door to the hallway was blown open, but it remained on its hinges.

“I hate those bombs,” Bud thought. “Where’s a cesium force field when you need it?” He raced over to the Extrasolar II, opened the hatch, and gently placed Tom inside, all the while keeping an eye on the doorway. After securing the still-unconscious Tom in place he jumped inside the craft and closed its tomasite canopy. “I am so glad Tom coats these craft in an EMP-resistant coating,” Bud thought, as he powered up the ship. “You just gotta love inertite.”

Bud used the ship’s repelatrons to blast open the hangar door, and then flew the ship out into space. Outside everything was still. The planet Neptune loomed in the distance, and a small group of ships were flying toward it. Wrecked ships were everywhere, and a handful of live ships charted a course through them, heading toward a large fleet in the distance. Bud saw no signs of shooting.

“Let’s see,” Bud said aloud, as he scanned his cockpit display. “I’m seeing four ships heading toward Neptune. There are a couple dozen dead ships, and, wow, a whole bunch of active ones. There’s the Challenger, completely dead. And there, right in the middle of an army of alien spaceships, is the Cosmotron Express, with signs of heavy battle damage. Oh boy. This is clearly not my week.”

Bud opened up a communications channel. “This is Bud Barclay, calling the Cosmotron Express. How is life treating you these days?”

Bud heard Sandy Swift’s voice come in over the radio. “Bud! You’re alive! How is Tom?”

“Um, well, Tom has been better, actually. He needs urgent medical attention. But is that you, Sandy? What are you doing out here?”

“Just come on in,” Sandy replied. “We’ll have a medical team standing by.”

“Right. You want me to head toward you because all those big alien ships surrounding you are…?” Bud asked.

“Our space friends,” Sandy replied. “Come on in and I’ll explain everything. I think we’ve defeated the Space Legion once and for all.”

Bud then flew the Extrasolar II toward the Cosmotron Express. “It looks like we’ve done it again, genius boy,” he said to his unconscious companion. “Now we just need to get you patched up and head for home.”

The storage room that held the Challenger‘s crew was suddenly filled with a brilliant flash of white light.

“Looks like we’re headed home, boys,” Tom Sr. remarked sadly. “The kronolator just engaged.”

“We must have just begun the first leg of our journey back,” Tom Jr. said. “There will be another flash when the machine shuts down. Bud, can you help me track the bursts? I need to know when we reach Sol.”

“Sure, Tom. How many jumps does it take to get there? Was it four?”

“Six,” Tom Jr. corrected. “It’s a nine-hour trip. Each jump will last about an hour.”

“What if the robots make bigger jumps?” Bud asked.

“They can’t. The kronolator doesn’t have that much capacity. They might attempt fewer jumps, but then we’ll be able to tell by their duration.”

Tom Sr. yawned and sat down. “I’m sorry to leave you, boys, but I’m going to get some sleep. It’s been a long, long day.”

“All right, Dad,” Tom Jr. replied. He settled into a chair across from his father. “We’ll wake you up when we reach Sol.”

As his father started falling asleep, Tom Jr. removed a notebook and a green pencil from his pocket, and began making notes.

“Hey there! Where did you get those?” Bud asked.

“I had the translator beam them along when I was rematerialized,” Tom explained. “You didn’t think I was just going to sit here for nine hours and do nothing, did you?”

“I should have known,” Bud groaned. “You didn’t happen to bring a book along too, did you?”

“I’m afraid not, fly boy. But I do have two more pencils. Take your pick – do you want the red one, or the blue one?”

Bud shook his head. “No thanks – I’ll pass. What are you inventing this time? Something bigger than the kronolator?”

Tom smiled. “Not exactly. This is something much, much smaller. Submicroscopic, actually. It should be a fun challenge.”

“Just try not to get us killed again, ok?” Bud pleaded. “Once we deliver the translators to Mars we’re not going to have an escape hatch.”

“So you think we’ll get out of this?” Tom asked.

“Of course, Tom! We always do. You’ll figure something out, one way or another. I’m not worried.”

Tom stared at him. “You’re not? Honestly?”

Bud shrugged. “Ok, so I’m a little worried. But something will come up.” He looked over at his friend and began to ask another question, but the young inventor was already lost in thought. Bud sighed, took a seat, and prepared for a long wait.

Hours later, Tom Jr. nudged Bud. “C’mon, wake up! We’re almost there.”

“What’s that?” Bud asked sleepily. “Did I miss something?”

Tom smiled. “Only the entire nine-hour flight! According to my watch the kronolator should disengage in just a few minutes.”

Bud looked around and saw that Tom’s father and the crew was alert and watching the young inventor. He had obviously told them that something was about to happen.

“So what’s going on?” Bud asked.

“Wait just a minute,” Tom Jr. said. “It’s almost time for the kronolator to disengage.”

Four minutes later, the storage room was filled with a brilliant white flash of light. As soon as Tom saw the flash he grabbed his green pencil and pressed a hidden button on its side. At first nothing happened, but a few seconds later they heard the sound of a distant explosion. As the floor rumbled beneath them the lights suddenly went out, plunging the room into complete darkness.

“What’s going on?” someone shouted.

A moment later the emergency lights came on. A single bulb lit the room with a soft yellow glow.

“The famous green pencil strikes again!” Bud said gleefully. “Did you plant the bomb where we’d discussed?”

Tom Jr. nodded. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I’ve had to damage your fusion reactor. I needed to cut power to the ship to prevent the robots from escaping. Now we just need to sit tight and wait. Things should start tipping in our favor in just a few minutes.”

“So you and Bud had a plan all along!” Tom Sr. said. “I should have known. Why didn’t you tell me, Son?”

“I wanted to, but we were afraid our conversations were being monitored. I’m sure that there are listening devices in this room.”

“You’re probably right,” Tom Sr. conceded. “Is that why it took you so long to materialize after Bud?”

Tom Jr. nodded. “I needed time to arrange the simultaneous transmission of myself, the pencils, and the bomb. It had to be done all at once so that the Transmittaton would only activate a single time. I didn’t want the robots to become suspicious.”

“So both of you knew the real situation before you left the translator,” Tom Sr. said. “I take it Bud has just been playing along to make it look more convincing?”

“Exactly,” Bud replied. “The robots were easy to spot – even the cloaked ones. It turned out there are nineteen of those things on board. If you count the disabled one in your lab that makes it an even twenty.”

“But if you knew what was happening, why not plant EMP bombs to disable the robots – or maybe transport them into space? You must have known where they were.”

Tom Jr. nodded. “The problem was that a couple of them were in the hangar beside the translators. An EMP blast would have destroyed the translators as well, and I didn’t want to risk that. And there was no way we could transport them all at once – the Transmittaton can only handle one person at a time. By the time we got to the last robot they would have plenty of time for them to retaliate. Besides, our space friends were concerned that we wouldn’t be able to destroy them all simultaneously and one of them might destroy the translators in an act of revenge.”

“The space friends?” Tom Sr. asked.

“It was a little tricky to contact them from within the translator, but we found a way,” Tom Jr. said. “I figured out how to emit radio signals when I first contacted you in the room below the capitol, so it was just a matter of pushing a signal to one of the orbiting satellites and relaying it to Fearing.”

Tom Jr. was interrupted when members of the crew began disappearing, one by one. The abductions appeared to be purely at random.

“It looks like the cavalry’s here!” Bud said gleefully.

“Who?” Tom Sr. asked.

“The Cosmotron Express!” Tom Jr. replied. “The space friends told us the Space Legion had a base on Neptune, so I arranged for them to meet us there with a Transmittaton. That was the only risky part of the plan, since we didn’t actually know where they intended to go until later. I thought there was a chance they would proceed straight to Mars, but took a gamble. The Cosmotron Express doesn’t have a kronolator, but nine hours was plenty of time for the latest model to reach Neptune – and bring an army with it.”

“But Swift Enterprises doesn’t have an army,” Tom Sr. protested. “The Cosmotron Express isn’t even armed!”

“No, we don’t,” Tom Jr. admitted. “But our space friends do.”

Tom Sr. suddenly disappeared. Over the next few seconds a few more crewmembers were beamed off the ship, but then the evacuations stopped. Minutes ticked by, but nothing else happened. Tom and Bud were still in the holding cell, along with four crewmembers.

Bud spoke up. “I’m going to step out on a limb here and guess that something bad has happened.”

Tom Jr. nodded. “Somehow I knew it wasn’t going to be this easy. It never is. I guess it’s time for Act Two.”

“Remind me again what Act Two is,” Bud said. “I don’t remember discussing an Act Two.”

“That’s the part where we walk into the corridor and fight the robots with our bare hands,” Tom explained.

“Ah. You mean that Act Two. I was hoping that was just a bad dream.”

Tom shrugged and removed the red pencil from his pocket. Bud looked at it in disbelief. “You’re going to use a soldering iron to get us out of here?” he asked.

Tom shook his head. “No, I’m not. You are right, though. Normally the red pencil would be the soldering iron. But that didn’t seem very useful in our situation, so I’ve packed it with explosives instead.” Tom affixed it as near the door lock as he could and ordered everyone to stand back. The crew piled up chairs in one corner and crouched behind them to protect themselves. Tom then removed the green pencil from his pocket.

“Ah, radio detonation,” Bud said. “Nice! But you used that pencil just a few minutes ago! Why didn’t it go off then?”

“Because I hadn’t armed it yet,” Tom replied. He pressed the secret button, and the explosion went off in a thunderous roar. Smoke billowed out of the doorway, and a shockwave scattered the chairs.

Bud cautiously lifted his head over the chairs and peeked out. The metal door had been blown down the hallway, and the room was filled with debris. There were no robots in sight. “Someone must have heard that,” Bud said.

“I’m hoping our space friends have already eliminated the robots,” Tom replied. “If they haven’t then we’re going to be hurting. Quick – to the Transmittaton!”

The group of six ran to the door. Bud cautiously peered out of the doorway. After verifying that no robots were in sight they started running down the hallway. “The Transmittaton is down one level,” Tom whispered. “Let’s go!”

As they raced down the hall Bud stepped into a side-room and came out holding two EMP emitters. He raced to catch back up with the rest of the group. “I thought we might need these,” he said. Bud took one for himself and handed the other one to Donnie McGinnis.

“Don’t I get one?” Tom asked, as they ran down the stairs.

“Do you know how to shoot?” Bud asked.

“I hit the robot in the observatory,” Tom replied.

“He wanted you to hit him,” Bud argued. “Besides, you’ve got to work the Transmittaton and get us out of here. Leave the fighting to me.”

When they reached the door at the bottom of the stairwell Bud turned to Donnie. “You stay here and keep watch. I’m going outside to make sure that the coast is clear.”

Bud cautiously opened the door to the hallway. After firing a few shots down the hall he quietly crept toward the transporter room.

“I guess that’s one way to look for invisible robots,” Tom muttered to himself. “Where’s my holographic penetrator when you need it?”

As they watched, Bud reached the door that led to the transporter room. He cautiously cracked it open and peeked inside, then threw it wide open and started shooting. Bud tried to step out of the doorway, but before he could move something caught him in the chest and violently threw him against the opposite wall. His EMP emitter flew out of his hands, and he slumped down onto the floor.

A robot calmly walked out of the transporter room toward Bud. As soon as it stepped into the hallway, however, Donnie shot it twice. The robot collapsed onto the floor in a shower of sparks.

Tom started to run toward Bud when Donnie grabbed him. “Not yet,” he hissed. “Let me make sure there aren’t any more.” Tom nodded, and Donnie stepped into the hallway. After he had verified that the area was clear Tom rushed over to Bud, who had begun to stir.

“I’m fine, Tom,” he said weakly. Tom helped him to his feet. Donnie picked up the EMP emitter that Bud had dropped, and handed it back to him.

“Are you sure?” Tom asked. “You hit that wall pretty hard.”

“I think I broke some ribs, and my back is aching, but it’s nothing that won’t heal,” Bud replied. “But look, Tom, we can talk about that later. Get that invention of yours up and running and get us out of here, ok?”

Tom nodded, then helped Bud into the transporter room. As the five of them stepped onto the platform Tom started working at the terminal.

“I think we can run the Transmittaton on emergency power,” Tom said. He pressed a few buttons on the terminal and frowned. “It looks like there are other robots on board – someone is trying to get the fusion reactor back online.”

“All the more reason to get out of here,” Bud replied.

“Man, but there are a lot of ships in the area,” Tom muttered, as he looked at the screen. Little green dots were flying all around the area, and pages of data scrolled by. “There’s quite a fight going on out there.”

“We’ve gotta be going, Tom,” Bud replied urgently.

“Just give me a minute to find the Cosmotron Express,” Tom said. “There’s a lot of congestion out there.” He paused for a moment. “Ok, I think that one’s it.”

“You think?” Bud asked.

Tom pressed a button on the terminal, and one by one the remaining crewmembers disappeared. After the fourth crewmember disappeared, however, the Transmittaton powered down. The emergency lights suddenly went out as well, plunging the room into complete darkness.

“I think we’ve been noticed,” Tom said. “I had a feeling that kind of power drain wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. A reception committee is probably on its way here now.”

“And I bet they can see in the dark,” Bud commented. “I say we get out of here pronto!”

“I’m right behind you,” Tom called out.

Tom Swift Sr. suddenly found himself on the bridge of the Cosmotron Express. It took him a moment to orient himself. Yellow lights were flashing, and crewmembers were shouting out information. Outside the window Tom Sr. saw a fierce battle raging in space. Saucer-shaped ships were flying at high speeds, shooting energy weapons of some kind at each other. Beyond the battle the giant planet Neptune rested serenely in space. In the middle of the confusion Tom Sr. saw his daughter Sandy sitting in the pilot’s chair, giving orders. “When are we going to have the transport back online?” she shouted. “I need propulsion back online! We can’t stay here.”

“Sandra Swift!” Tom Sr. gasped. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Sandra turned her attention to her father. “Dad!” she said, beaming. “You made it! I was so worried about you. Ned must have beamed you right onto the bridge. But where’s Tom?”

“Last I saw he was still on board the Challenger,” Tom Sr. replied. “But why aren’t you at home in Shopton?”

Sandra flipped a switch on the ship’s intercom. “Ned, what’s the deal with the transporter? We’ve still got people over there!”

There was no response. A moment later Ned Newton’s voice rang out over the intercom. He was gasping for breath. “We got hit,” he said. “There’s been a hull breach in the transporter room. It’s a total loss.”

Tom Sr. gasped. “How many were killed?”

“We all made it out alive, but we’ve got severely injured people on our hands. A team from the infirmary is working with them now. I was at the terminal when the blast hit so I emerged pretty unscathed. But there’s no way we can repair that machine.”

Sandra clenched her fists and stared out the window into space. Outside she could see that the Challenger was at the heart of the battle, drifting helplessly in space.

“We’ve got to rescue them,” she said. “I didn’t come all this way to lose them.”

Tom Sr. walked up to the intercom. “Ned, why did you bring my daughter into this mess? And what are you doing here?”

“Sandra wanted to come and wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Ned replied. “Besides, Tom taught her how to fly all Swift aircraft, including this one. Do you realize that practically all of your experienced space pilots are out in space somewhere? It was practically impossible on such short notice to find someone who had actually flown this thing!”

“And so you chose my daughter as a pilot? Are you completely out of your mind? After my only son is nearly killed you decide to put my only other child in danger as well?”

“We were kind of in a hurry,” Ned replied. “But can we discuss this later? I need your help down here – if we don’t get the propulsion system back online we’re not going to make it.”

Tom Sr. sighed. “I’m on my way,” he said.

Sandy looked at her father. “”Phyl sends her regards, by the way. She would have come too, but she was at the dentist. Root canal, you know.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” Tom Sr. said, sighing. He glanced at the radar scope and paled. “There are dozens of ships out there! Whatever possessed you to come out here?”

“We’re letting the space friends do all the heavy lifting, Dad, although we can do a little fighting with the x-raser,” Sandy explained. “But mostly we just came to beam you guys off the Challenger. Our space friends don’t have beaming technology.”

“But how have you survived?” he asked.

Sandy frowned. “The inertite coating protects us from some of their energy weapons, and we’ve got a couple repelatrons to fend of missiles . Mostly, though, we’re not surviving. By the way, I’d grab a spacesuit before heading down below. We’re sustaining a lot of damage on the lower levels, and I can’t promise the hull integrity is any good.”

“Right – thanks. But don’t think our conversation is finished, young lady. It’s just – postponed.” Tom Sr. then made his way through the chaos on the bridge and headed into the elevator shaft.

“So how did that one go?” Tom Swift Jr. asked.

“Not so good,” Tom Sr. said, frowning.

A holographic image of Tom Swift Jr. was standing in the Challenger’s transporter room, and six potted plants were on the floor around him. None of the plants were recognizable. For the past twenty minutes Tom Jr. had been sending data from the translator to the Transmittaton in an attempt to create a live object, but he had not met with any success.

“I just don’t get it,” Tom Jr. said, puzzled. “We were able to fabricate an endless array of rocks without any problems. Why are plants any different?”

“Plants are a lot more complicated than rocks, Son. It’s possible that we may be getting some interference that’s blocking a portion of your data stream. If the Transmittaton is only receiving part of the signal it won’t be able to accurately reproduce the object.”

“But the translator is located right down the hall from you!” Tom Jr. objected. “The signal is traveling about thirty feet, tops. How much interference could their possibly be?”

“We can easily design a test and find out,” Tom Sr said. “Let’s try beaming the signal to the Transmittaton but have it not build the object. I’ll analyze the signal that it receives and we can compare notes.”

Tom Jr. nodded. “It sounds like this could take a while.”

“I’m afraid so. We’ve never tried using your invention to fabricate objects before. You have to expect a few problems.”

“And, unfortunately, there probably isn’t another way out of here,” Tom Jr. said. “All right, Dad. Let’s get started.”

An hour later Chow Winkler ambled into the room. The overweight cook gasped in amazement as soon as he walked in. “Well brand my germaniums, what’s goin’ on here?” he thundered. The transporter room was cluttered with dozens of different plant species. Some of them were intact and thriving, but others were clearly dead.

“Hey there, Chow,” Tom Jr. said, waving. His holographic image turned away from examining a large white Easter lily and faced the cook. “Where have you been? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

“Sorry ’bout that, boss. I had to feed the crew breakfast, y’know, and time sorta got away from me. But what are all the plants for? Are you tryin’ to start a greenhouse, or somethin’?”

Tom Jr. laughed. “Not exactly, Chow. We’ve been trying to use the Transmittaton to fabricate objects, and we’ve been testing the process with plants. It looks like we finally got it licked, though. The past six plants worked flawlessly.”

Chow nodded. “And just in time, too. There ain’t much room left in here. What was the problem?”

“It turned out it was my fault,” Tom Jr. admitted. “The signal I was generating from the translator wasn’t focused enough. Instead of sending the data over a narrow band of frequencies I was allowing part of the message to leak. The Transmittaton wasn’t getting the whole picture, so it was creating a mess.”

“I get it, boss. So what’s next?”

Tom Sr. spoke up. “I think we’re ready to attempt the extraction. Who wants to go first – you, or Bud?”

There was silence for a moment, and then Tom Jr. laughed. “Bud just told me that he needs to go first, since I’m the only person who knows how to work this thing. He doesn’t want to be marooned inside the translator for the rest of time.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Tom Sr. replied.

“What’s gonna happen, Tom?” Chow asked nervously. “You ain’t gonna produce hundreds of Buds, the way you made all those mushrooms that one time, are you?”

“Don’t worry, Chow – there’s no danger of that! Bud won’t actually be alive again until his brain energy is returned to the body that we’re about to make. There is only one copy of his brain energy, and it can’t be duplicated, so there can only be one Bud Barclay.”

“Whatever you say, boss. It don’t make no sense to me. It sure will be good to see you again, though.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Tom Jr. promised. The holographic image of him disappeared, and there was silence for a minute. Then the Transmittaton came to life, and there was a brief flash of light. When the light faded they saw Bud Barclay lying on the platform!

The figure was still for a moment, and then Bud groaned. His eyes fluttered open, and he attempted to rise to his feet. Tom Sr. rushed over to help him.

“Let’s not ever do this again,” Bud said weakly.

Tom Sr. smiled. “It’s good to see you again, Bud. How do you feel?”

“Like I just fell off a cliff,” Bud replied. “I feel awful. I think I’ll live, though.”

The two men quickly cleared off the platform to make room for Tom. Several minutes went by, but nothing happened.

“Where is he?” Tom Sr. said at last.

Bud shrugged. “He’ll be here. When he beamed me out he had to sit there and manage the whole process. He’s probably looking for a way to automate it, so it’ll happen without him sitting at the controls. Give him a little more time – he’ll show up.”

As Bud predicted, a few moments later Tom Swift Jr. appeared on the platform, wearing khaki pants and his trademark striped shirt. Tom groaned, opened his eyes, and attempted to stand.

“I see what you mean,” Tom Jr. said weakly. “This does feel awful. I guess our space friends still have some work to do on the rematerializing part.”

Tom Sr. helped his son over to a chair, where he sat down. “It is so good to see you again, Son,” Tom Sr. said. “I thought I had lost you.”

“We weren’t feeling too good either there for a while,” Tom Jr. commented. “It’s good to be back.”

Chow nodded. “It surely is, Tom. You two got a real talent for gittin’ into trouble, you know that?”

Tom Jr. laughed. “You’re not kidding! I just can’t figure out how I get into these situations. These things just seem to happen.”

“So what now?” Bud said, as he settled down into a chair and relaxed.

“I think it’s time to go home,” Tom Sr. replied. “Have you made a decision about the translators, Son?”

Tom Jr. nodded. “Yes, Dad, I have. It turns out the robots were right. If we take the translators back to Sol we will be dooming the human race. I’m going to personally destroy both of them.”

“Are you kidding?” Tom Sr. asked, aghast. “Those machines are home to millions, possibly billions of life forms! You can’t destroy them!”

Chow spoke up. “Do not worry, Mr. Swift. Your son is lying.” The image of Chow Winkler suddenly disappeared, revealing a black metal robot with two glowing red eyes.

Bud gasped. “You’re not Chow!”

“I had a feeling that would flush them out,” Tom Jr. said quietly.

Tom Sr. sighed. “I should have known. Chow would have been here right on time. You’ve already kidnapped the entire crew, haven’t you?”

The robot nodded. “We took control while you were distracted in here. It worked out rather well.”

“Are you Andy?” Bud asked. “Or are you someone else? I can’t tell you creatures apart.”

The robot turned its head to face Bud. “That is because the members of the Space Legion’s robotic tactical division are all identical, save for our serial numbers. I am not the one Mr. Swift named Andy. But you may call me Andy as well if you like.”

Bud shook his head. “I prefer the term evil killer robot, if it’s all the same with you. Truth in advertising, and all that.”

“What did you do to the crew?” Tom Jr. demanded.

“Oh, they are all safe. We have placed them in one of your storage compartments. We took the liberty of emptying it first, of course. And now you will join them.”

“There are a few things about all this I don’t understand,” Tom Sr. said. “First you try to keep us from going to Thanatos to get the translators, then you actually help us get the translators, and now you’re stealing them from us. Why the change of heart?”

“Don’t encourage him,” Bud pleaded. “He’s going to start monologuing, and we’re going to be here for hours. Once an evil villain starts bragging about their evil plan it’s almost impossible to get them to shut up.”

“Ignore him,” Tom Jr. pleaded. They suddenly felt the ship tremble slightly.

The robot spoke. “It makes no difference. We have now left the ocean floor and are headed into space. We will be back at Sol by the end of the day. There is nothing you can do about it. It will do no harm to answer your pathetic questions. We had you fooled all along.”

“On the contrary, I think I know exactly what you were doing,” Tom Jr. said boldly. “Your first plan was to keep us from ever going to Thanatos. Rather than reveal yourselves to us, though, you hired a couple local thugs and had them plant the jamming device and give us the warning on Rattlesnake Island.”

“Why would they do that?” Bud asked. “I mean, why use unreliable help when you’re a space-age killer robot?”

“I bet it’s the space friends,” Tom Jr. said. “They’re afraid of them!”

The robot interrupted. “The Space Legion is not afraid of those you call your space friends. We simply find it best to avoid their attention where possible. Why provoke an unnecessary conflict?”

“You mean, if they caught you the jig would be up,” Bud retorted. “They have you scared silly.”

The robot ignored him and continued. “Our original plan was indeed to prevent you from coming here. We knew the translator that housed your allies had become damaged in an earthquake and was about to stop working. If we could discourage you from going it would ensure their defeat.”

“But it would ensure your defeat as well,” Tom Sr. said. “Tom told me about the genetic meltdown that happened here. Our space friends weren’t the only ones on the verge of extinction.”

“It would be better for both races to perish than for our enemies to live,” the robot replied.

“What I don’t get is why that robot revealed itself in the observatory that night,” Bud said. “If you guys were trying to be all secretive then why give the game away? You had to realize that your story about time travel was pretty thin.”

“The security system at Swift Enterprises is very strong,” the robot said. Bud nearly burst out laughing, but a sharp glance from Tom silenced him. The robot continued. “We could not find anyone who was willing to challenge it, so we were forced to do it ourselves. Our original plan was to have a robot cloak itself with human form and complete the mission in that disguise, so that it would appear that a human was responsible. However, when our operative spotted Swift Jr. on the infirmary roof holding an EMP weapon we realized that our disguise was known.”

“You guys spotted me?” Tom Jr. said, astonished.

“We?” Bud asked, interrupting. “Who is this ‘we’?”

“The robots in the tactical division maintain constant communication with each other at all times,” the robot explained. “Contact is only broken when the division is dispersed across multiple planets – or star systems, in this case.”

Tom Sr. spoke up. “I believe I understand. Rather than challenging Tom, your group decided to change plans and have the robot pretend it was from the future.”

“But what about the Swift logos that were on the parts?” Bud asked.

“Paint is easy to fabricate, Mr. Barclay,” the robot replied. “We had hoped that the original human disguise would not be penetrated but we felt it wise to have a backup plan ready. It is always wise to have options.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “That explains why the robot I destroyed didn’t have the logo on it.”

“We had hoped you would not examine that machine,” the robot said. “It was a calculated risk. After this ship left Earth we could have overpowered you, but we were concerned that there would be difficulties getting to the translator. Since you and your Son are excellent at overcoming technical challenges it seemed best to have you on our side. As it turned out our fears were unwarranted, but we did not want to take any unnecessary risks.”

Tom Jr. spoke up. “So once you realized we were actually going to make it to Thanatos you decided to hitch a ride, help us get the translators, and then steal them for your own use.”

“Our plan goes further than that,” the robot said. “If that was the extent of our plan then you would already be dead.”

“I wondered about that,” Bud muttered.

The robot continued. “It is entirely possible that those you call your space friends will find a way to repair their damaged translator. We do not wish for that to happen, so we are going to use these two translators to trick them into revealing the location of their base.”

Tom Jr. snapped his fingers. “That’s it! You need us alive because you think our space friends will scan the ship for our presence and will get suspicious if only you robots are on board. And you know for sure they won’t give up their location if the translator isn’t here.”

“In fact we cannot be on board at all,” the robot replied. “Your friends are very adept at detecting our presence, so we will not be joining you on your trip to Mars. We will stop at one of the outer planets and return to our base, while this ship’s auto-pilot flies all of you to Mars. Once it arrives it will automatically contact your space friends with the good news. When your space friends reply with their coordinates this ship will inform the Space Legion, and we will invade.”

“This ship doesn’t have an auto-pilot,” Tom Sr. said.

“Something tells me it’s got one now,” Bud muttered.

“It is time to go, gentlemen,” the robot said. “I trust you will not be so foolish as to attempt to stop me from escorting you to the holding area.”

Bud glanced at Tom Jr., who shook his head. Bud let out a heavy sigh, but took no action.

The robot led them out of the room and down the corridor. At the end of the hall was a heavy steel door that led to a storage room. Beside it was an armed robot. When the group reached the door the guard robot unlocked and opened it. After Tom Jr., Tom Sr., and Bud were ushered into the room the guard closed and locked the door behind them.

Inside the surprisingly spacious room they saw Chow, James, and the rest of the crew. Most of them were sitting on chairs, but a few were milling about. It was clear at a glance that none of them had been injured. When the crew caught sight of Tom and Bud they eagerly crowded around and welcomed them back. Tom Jr. personally shook everyone’s hand.

“Checking to make sure they’re all real people?” Tom Sr. asked.

“Could be,” Tom Jr. replied nonchalantly. “It never hurts.”

“Hey, this really is a pretty big room,” Bud remarked, after the commotion had died down.

Tom Jr. nodded. “Normally it houses the space solartron, but we didn’t take it with us this time.”

“Oh, of course,” Bud said. “That makes sense. A device that turns sunlight into matter wouldn’t work very well in deep space, would it? But didn’t the robot say something about emptying the room? What was in here earlier?”

“All my galley supplies,” Chow groaned. “I had enough food in here to last all winter, Tom, and now it’s all gone. Those blasted robots made off with all my vittles.”

Tom Jr. was surprised. “How long did you think we’d be at Thanatos, Chow? This was just going to be a quick trip! I’ve actually got to speak at a commencement ceremony in two weeks. Who told you we’d be there for months?”

“You can never tell,” Chow replied vaguely. “There ain’t many grocery stores out in space, Tom. You gotta be prepared for anything.”

“So what do we do now?” Bud asked.

“Haven’t you asked me that before?” Tom Jr. replied. “In fact, come to think of it, haven’t you been asking me that ever since we got here?”

“Tell you what,” Bud replied. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll get us safely home and wipe out all the evil killer robots, I’ll lay off with the questions for a week or two. Deal?”

Tom Jr. smiled. “Deal. But don’t worry. All we need to do is wait.”

“Wait?” Bud said, surprised. “You mean, as in sit here and do nothing?”

“Something like that,” Tom Jr. agreed. “That is, unless you have your own super-secret plan for defeating a horde of invisible robots with only your bare hands.”

“So I guess we wait,” Bud said glumly.

James Nathan tapped gently on the door as he walked into the Challenger‘s transporter room. “Do you have a minute, sir?” he asked.

Tom Swift Sr. looked up from the electronic assembly he was rewiring. “Sure,” he said cheerfully. He stood up and stretched, and then laid his wire cutters down on a table.

James looked around the room and saw that it was almost usable again. When he had made his last status report to Tom Sr. a few hours earlier the Transmittaton had been lying in pieces all over the floor, but since then Tom Sr. had almost finished his work. There were only a few pieces of machinery that had not yet been reinstalled.

“It looks like you’ve been busy,” James remarked.

Tom Sr. nodded, and then yawned. “It took some time, but it actually wasn’t very hard. I just had to tweak it a bit to allow it to receive an external data stream, and that meant taking apart the main assembly. But overall it wasn’t too bad a job.”

“How long have you been awake, sir?” James asked. “Do you realize it’s six in the morning?”

Tom Sr. laughed. “And I haven’t had a bit of sleep all night, have I? It’s ok, James. I’ll grab Tom and Bud from the netherworld and then I’ll get some rest. I can last that long, at least.”

James nodded. “I wanted to tell you that the crew has returned with the second translator. Both of the units are now secured in Hangar 1. We are ready to depart on your command.”

“Wonderful! My son will be glad to hear that. By the way, what has our friend Andy been doing?”

“He helped bring both units on board, sir. I believe he is on the control deck right now, waiting for us to return to Earth.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “That’s fine. Speaking of departing, I told Tom to contact me at half past six. The Transmittaton should be ready by then. We’ll do a few dry runs, and then we’ll go for it. Once Tom and Bud are safely on board we’ll head for home.”

“Dry runs?” James asked.

“I’ve talked to Tom, and he thinks we can test our setup on a few common items, like rocks and shrubs. If we can successfully reassemble a number of complex objects then we’ll feel a little better about trying it on something more serious.”

“Very good, sir. Should I pass the news along to Fearing?”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “No, and don’t tell the robots either. We’ll wait until they’re actually back before we announce the good news. But do tell Chow. He really wanted to be here when Tom and Bud materialized.”

“You don’t trust the robots, do you, sir?”

Tom Sr. was silent for a few moments. “Let’s just say I don’t like taking unnecessary risks. Did I tell you that before I came in here I stopped to look at the robot I destroyed?”

“No, sir, you didn’t. Did you find anything?”

Tom Sr. nodded. “I didn’t spend a lot of time on it, but I did notice that the Swift emblem was not printed on the parts. Chances are Swift Enterprises didn’t build that one – or any of the others.”

“You’re expecting a rough ride home, then,” James said.

“I am,” Tom Sr. replied.

“I’ll warn the crew to keep their EMP emitters with them, sir,” James replied.

“I think I’ve found something, Tom,” Bud said excitedly.

Tom Jr. wheeled his comfortable leather chair over to Bud. The two of them were inside the translator interface room that Bud had discovered the previous day. They had spent the entire night looking for a history of the war that had devastated Thanatos. Even though they had not gotten any sleep, neither of them were tired.

Tom looked over the screen carefully. “I think this is it, Bud! Let me take a look at this. Do you think you can find any video footage?”

“Let me check and see,” Bud replied. While Tom read the report that Bud had found his friend rolled over to another console and began working. After half an hour Tom leaned back in his chair and let out a long, slow sigh.

Bud spoke up. “I didn’t read the report in detail or anything, but it looks like it roughly follows the outline given to us by the evil killer robots.”

Tom nodded. “More or less. Evidently at one time Thanatos was in a system with a class G star. Based on the timelines I’ve seen, I’m going to guess that the war happened about five hundred years ago. It could be a lot later, though – it’s hard to tie their dates to ours.”

“Class G, skipper?”

Tom explained. “A class G star is a yellow star just like our own sun. They’re not terribly common, but they do exist. This one appeared to have two habitable planets – Thanatos, and another world. I think there may have been several uninhabitable planets and maybe a couple gas giants, but these records don’t talk much about them.”

Bud nodded. “I’m guessing the Space Legion lived on the second world, and the two planets got into a fight. Right?”

“That’s exactly what happened. I think the second world was actually colonized by the first, though. What came to be called the Space Legion was just a group of colonists that created a society on the second planet. The two worlds lived together in peace for a long time, but eventually the Space Legion decided they wanted to control Thanatos. The problem was that the Space Legion was the weaker of the two. Our space friends may have been a race of mathematicians, but their grasp of theoretical physics was astounding, and their homeworld was well-defended.”

“So they were expecting the Space Legion to attack?” Bud asked.

“Not necessarily. There are other hostile aliens out there. The galaxy ghosts ended up being friendly, but what if things had gone the other way? I’m sure that there are all kinds of threats out there that we don’t even know about yet.”

“I get you. So if our space friends were so strong, what happened?”

“It was the genetic meltdown that did them in,” Tom replied. “When their race started to die their power faded, so they took what little strength they had left and poured it into building the translators. When they started converting themselves to energy beings the Space Legion struck, and struck hard. I don’t know what weapons they fought with, but they absolutely devastated Thanatos. It used to be like Earth, Bud. You’ve seen what it’s like now.”

Bud shuddered. “It must have been horrible. An entire race – gone, just like that.”

Tom shook his head. “That’s the thing, Bud. The race wasn’t wiped out. The translators were designed to find people who were dying and convert them. When the attack came they powered up and converted everyone at once. I think hardly anyone died. The planet was destroyed, but the race lived on. In fact, judging from this report, it looks like the Space Legion was the party that lost the war.”

“You’re kidding!” Bud said, startled. “How could they have lost?”

“It’s true that the Space Legion did a lot of things to this planet. They destroyed every living thing off its surface. They cracked its crust and turned it into a volcanic nightmare. But they still lost. Tell me, Bud. How many other objects are there in this star system?”

“What star system?” Bud asked.

“Exactly,” Tom replied. “The only object still left is Thanatos. Everything else is gone, including the home world of the Space Legion. You see, in their haste to defeat our space friends the invaders launched a weapon designed to make it impossible to enter hyperspace within a light-year radius. They wanted to keep the space friends from retaliating with their faster-than-light weapons and force them to fight with more traditional ships, which would give the Space Legion an advantage.”

“I take it something went wrong?” Bud asked.

“You could say that,” Tom replied. “The weapon ended up collapsing the gravity wells of the star and its planets and converted them into unstable singularities. The entire solar system was destroyed in a matter of hours.”

“But how did Thanatos survive?”

“It almost didn’t. The collapse started with their star and worked outward, and their planet happened to be the furthest away from the danger. That gave them enough time to use the growing singularities to transport their planet to another region of space. They were hoping to reach another class G star, but the wormhole collapsed while they were en-route and they ended up here, in deep space. The collapse had the nice side-effect of damaging space-time in this area and making it impossible to move the planet again. Then temperatures slowly dropped to what they are today, turning the planet into an uninhabitable nightmare.”

“I like the way you say things like move the planet, as if people did it every Saturday evening,” Bud said. “That’s the great thing about hanging around with Tom Swift. You get to hear all sorts of interesting phrases. But really, Tom. I’d like to see you try to move a planet.”

Tom grimaced. “I’d really rather not, Bud. This is the only case of planet-moving I’ve ever come across, and I can’t say it was a success.”

“I have to agree with you there, Tom. It sounds like both side lost.”

“Nuclear wars tend to be like that,” Tom replied, “and this war was fought with weapons much, much bigger than nukes. When two nations with that much technology get into a war it just isn’t possible to have a winner. But I think our space friends fared the best. Their world was devastated, but at least they had their translators. The Space Legion ended up with nothing.”

“So the entire Space Legion was wiped out?” Bud asked dubiously. “Then who was bothering us when you were building your subocean geotron?”

“That’s the other piece to this,” Tom replied. “Both the Space Legion and our space friends had colonies in our own star system, and they were apparently the only extrasolar colonies that both groups had. I know for sure that our space friends settled on Mars. I have no idea where the Space Legion settled. But both of them ended up marooned around Sol when their home star system was destroyed. The people on Thanatos couldn’t reach Mars, and vice versa. The two groups couldn’t even communicate with each other.”

“But at one point they must have had the ability to travel between Thanatos and Mars,” Bud argued. “What happened?”

Tom shrugged. “If you and I were stranded on a desert island I might know how to build the Challenger, but that doesn’t mean the two of us could build one ourselves with only palm trees and coconuts. It takes a civilization to build things like that, and once it’s gone it’s gone. Plus, I’m guessing our space friends on Mars are trapped in a translator of their own, and have only a very limited ability to communicate with the outside world.”

“Which is why they do everything via remote-controlled ships,” Bud said. “I get it. And our space friends seem to have the ability to drive the Space Legion off whenever they want, so the Space Legion can’t be doing very well these days. But what does all that tell us?”

Tom drummed his fingers on the desk. “It tells us a few things. First, the robot I met in the observatory told me that our space friends had died, which might be true. If their translator was damaged for some reason – and we know they have one, because they sent us Exman – that could have wiped them out. I suspect that they’re not all energy beings, since they still care about their food supply, but probably at least 90% of them are.”

“But didn’t the robot say that the translator was a weapon of some kind?” Bud asked.

“Not exactly,” Tom said. “The robot said that the Space Legion wanted it and was not able to get to it. That I can believe. If they are facing the same mutational meltdown that affected the space friends – and I imagine they’ve got to be, because they come from the same stock – then chances are they’re on the brink of extinction. They would want a translator really badly.”

“I’m positive the robot said something about using it as a weapon,” Bud insisted.

“It kind of did, in a roundabout way,” Tom replied. “It said the Space Legion wanted to use it to wipe out their enemies. We know that our space friends have remote-controlled spaceships. If the Space Legion had a translator they could come back from the verge of extinction and live to finish any wars they wanted to start. That is, if they had the necessary strength.”

“I guess I could see that,” Bud said grudgingly. “So you think the robots are telling the truth?”

“It’s very possible,” Tom admitted. “By the way, have you found any video footage of the war yet?”

“Kind of,” Bud replied. He pressed some buttons on the console. “It turns out that the capitol building used to have video surveillance, and the surveillance was still working when the enemy ships invaded. I think I’ve got some footage of the building being stormed, but that’s about it.”

“Let’s see it,” Tom said. Bud pressed another button, and a view of the courtyard outside the capitol appeared on the screen. The two watched as the sky grew dark and a torrent of energy poured out of the sky, striking buildings in the distance. A handful of sleek, saucer-shaped vessels flew across the sky. One of them broke formation and headed toward the capitol building. After bombarding it from a distance it landed in the courtyard.

“It doesn’t look like our space friends are putting up any resistance at all,” Bud said worriedly.

“They were probably being translated into energy beings while this was going on,” Tom replied. “I imagine their response to the attack came later.”

As they continued to watch they saw the saucer open and a stream of soldiers poured out. The troops scattered all over the courtyard, shooting at will. When one of them caught sight of the camera it fired at it, and the picture was lost. The last frame of the recording captured a black metal robot shooting an energy weapon at the camera. The robot had a skeletal form, a featureless head, and two glowing red eyes.

Bud gasped. “Tom – will you look at that!”

Tom whistled. “Boy, does that ever look familiar!”

“So much for your inventing Andy thirty years in the future,” Bud replied. “It looks like they stormed Thanatos centuries before you were born – ”

” – and now they’re using me to get a translator so they can live long enough to complete the war they started five hundred years ago,” Tom finished.

Tom stared at the picture of the robot for a few moments before speaking. “I think we’ve got a problem, Bud. Now, keep in mind I don’t understand everything that the robots have been up to. They did try to stop us from ever coming here in the first place. But something tells me that our metal friends are not going to let us deliver the two translators to Mars.”

“You’re not kidding,” Bud replied. “So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Tom confessed. “I just don’t know.”

It took Tom Swift Sr. less than a minute to reach the bottom of the large elevator shaft that led deep below the surface of Thanatos. Once there, he knocked the elevator doors open with his suit’s repelatrons and stepped through them into a small room. David, Mark, and Joe followed a few moments later.

“This looks like a large airlock,” Tom Sr. said, as they directed their lights around the room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were made of bare concrete, and the room was completely devoid of furniture. Directly opposite the elevator shaft was a massive iron door. It showed no signs of corrosion or wear. Beside it was a control panel that emitted a faint green light.

David spoke up. “My suit indicates that we’re about 640 feet below the ocean floor.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “The energy signature appears to be coming from directly behind that door. I think we’ve found it.”

“Do you think Tom and Bud are behind that door?” Joe asked.

Tom Sr. paused before answering. His voice trembled slightly as spoke. “If Tom were down here, he would have had to blast the elevator doors open just like we did, but the doors were intact. My son never made it here.”

There was silence for a moment, and then Mark spoke up. “Should we force this door open as well?”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “That might damage the equipment inside, and we don’t want to risk that. Let me try to open it using that control panel. We’ll only force our way in if there’s no other way.”

For a few moments Tom Sr. worked silently at the control panel. “I wish I’d brought my space dictionary,” he muttered. Then, suddenly, the door made a deep grinding noise and slowly slid open. Through the door they could see another small room, with yet another massive door barring the way.

The four men stepped through the opening into the room beyond, and Tom Sr. made his way to the second airlock door. After pressing a few buttons on its control panel the first door shut itself behind them, and they heard the sound of the room becoming pressurized. Tom Sr. checked the atmosphere readouts on his helmet display and was surprised to see that the room now contained a breathable air supply.

“Should we remove our helmets?” Joe asked.

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Tom Sr. replied. “We don’t know how long this atmosphere will last. I imagine it’s been a very long time since anyone has serviced this machinery.”

Once the air pressure stabilized the second massive door slid open, revealing a giant room that seemed to stretch forever into the distance. At first it was pitch dark, but as the group stood there and watched the room’s lights slowly turned themselves on, illuminating what appeared to be a giant morgue.

The party stepped out of the airlock and found themselves on a small iron walkway that was at least thirty feet off the ground. A ladder off to their left stretched down to the floor. In front of them were rows and rows of shelves, each of which contained a metal coffin. The shelves stretched more than a hundred feet into the air and ran the length of the room.

“This place is massive!” Mark exclaimed. “I can’t even see the end of the room. It goes on forever!”

“Doesn’t it remind you of Imlah Taltahni?” David asked.

“Kind of, only we’re not on Mars,” Joe replied.

“What are you talking about?” Tom Sr. asked, as he scanned the room for the energy signature.

“It’s a long story,” Mark said. “But say, is this room really what I think it is? You don’t suppose there are bodies in all of those, do you?”

“There’s one way to find out!” Joe replied cheerfully.

“Yeah. Let’s not find out that way,” David replied.

Tom Sr. suddenly spoke up. “There it is! At last. Look down there on the floor, gentlemen.” He pointed to a small control station located directly below them, where a large, black cube was resting. The cube measured five feet in every direction, and had space symbols engraved on its side. Flashes of blue light would occasionally streak over the surface of the device.

“That’s it, gentlemen,” Tom Sr. announced. “That device is definitely emitting the radiation we’ve been tracking.”

“It doesn’t look too large,” Mark said thoughtfully. “It should be easy to load it onto the Challenger.”

Tom Sr. nodded, then activated his suit’s repelatrons and flew to the floor. When he reached the cube he looked it over carefully. “Interesting,” he said, as he read the space symbols. “I can’t read all of them, but they claim this machine provides an environment of some sort.”

“So it’s providing the air in this room?” David asked.

“I don’t think so. The symbols seem to indicate that there is an environment inside the cube. I’m not sure what that means.”

As he studied the symbols, Mark walked over to the control station beside the cube and activated the display. “It looks like this thing still works,” he said.

Tom Sr. walked over and looked at it. “Hmmm. It looks like you were right, gentlemen. This place is indeed a morgue. The terminal displays what bodies reside in which receptacles. I can’t read all of this, but it looks like the room is empty. No, wait – I see two entries. They’re located four aisles to our right, then down the row a couple hundred feet. That’s odd. Why build such a large room and only house two bodies?”

David spoke up. “Maybe both cubes have rooms like this, but they used the other one first, and this was just used as overflow.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “Could be. Let’s go check out those two coffins. Maybe we can learn something there. I’d really like to know what that device does before I take it on board the ship.”

“Should we let the rest of the landing party know that we found the device?” Mark asked.

“I’m sure they’ve been monitoring our communications,” Tom Sr. replied. “Shouldn’t they already know?”

“I haven’t heard from anyone recently,” Joe said. “Hello? Is anyone else out there?” There was no response.

“That’s strange,” Mark commented. “The room must be blocking our signal.”

“The room was probably shielded to protect the device,” Tom Sr. said. “The planet’s atmosphere emits a lot of dangerous radiation that could be fatal to electronic equipment. We’ll go back to the elevator shaft in a minute and let the crew know we’re safe.”

As they turned the corner to go down the aisle they saw something that caught their attention. There, right beside the coffins they were about to investigate, was the wreckage of the Extrasolar I. The ship was battered almost beyond recognition.

Tom Sr. rushed over to look at it. A quick examination revealed that it did not contain any bodies.

“How did that get here?” Mark asked.

Tom Sr. shook his head. “I don’t know – it never would have fit through the elevator shaft.” He paused a moment as he fought to control his emotions. “Do you see any signs of Tom or Bud?”

All four of them looked at the two coffins beside the ship. Unlike all the other coffins in the room, each of these had a small display affixed to its side. The display was covered in space symbols and gave off a faint green light.

“It says the temporal seal is engaged,” Tom Sr. said curtly. He roughly pressed a button on each of the displays. After a moment there was a hissing noise, and the lid slowly opened. A cold, gaseous cloud rose out of the coffins and spilled over into the floor. Inside they could see the bodies of Tom Swift Jr. and Bud Barclay. One look at their condition confirmed their worst suspicions.

The blood drained from Tom Sr.’s face. “They’re dead,” he said weakly. “My son is dead.”

Bud stood up and stretched. “So what now, Tom?”

Tom Jr. started intently at the display in front of him. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, fly boy! Our first order of business is letting Dad know that we’re still alive. He’s probably worried sick. Oh, and we also need to find a way to get out of here.”

“What can I do to help? It’s nothing personal, Tom, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life inside one of your Exman suits. They’re nice and all, but I just don’t think Sandy would go for it.”

Tom smiled. “Now are you sure, Bud? I mean, I can always redesign my brain energy container. You could go around looking like a spherical, basketball-sized orb, or something. I mean, the possibilities are truly endless!”

Bud glared at Tom. “I am not going to be turned into a robotic, wisecracking sidekick, buddy. I don’t care if there are other Swifts out there that like to hang out with machines, but you are not going to join them.”

Tom laughed. “I would never dream of doing that, Bud. Don’t worry – we’ll get out of here one way or another. Come to think of it, there actually is a way you can help. You can read space symbols now, so why don’t you see if you can find any records of the war that destroyed this planet? We still need to discover the truth about those metal robots. Maybe if we can learn the real history of the war we’ll have our answer.”

“Sure thing, Tom. Oh, that’s another thing. Why can I understand space symbols?”

“It’s a side-effect of being inside the translator,” Tom replied. “You see, the information on these displays is really just a mathematical construct that your electric brain is converting into a visual display. The translator is feeding your brain with all the information it needs to translate the symbols into something that is meaningful to you.”

Bud shook his head. “I didn’t follow any of that, Tom, but I’ll take your word for it.” He grabbed a chair again and sat down at a keyboard. “You say that this console is safe? I’m not going to blow anything up?”

Tom laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Bud. If you just stick to logs and history reports you probably won’t get near anything dangerous. Let me know if you find any footage of the war itself. Or if you find a way to communicate with the other translator on this planet.”

Tom and Bud worked silently for several hours. Tom was the first one to speak. “I think I have something,” he said at last.

“That’s great, because I’ve got pretty much nothing. I’m just not a computer guy, Tom. I’m Bud Barclay, not Ben Walking Eagle. Alien computers are especially beyond my limited understanding.”

“Ben who?” Tom asked.

“Never mind,” Bud said. “Different time, different universe. What did you discover?”

Tom gestured toward the screen he had been working with. “It turns out the translator does have a way to communicate with the outside world. It’s not very sophisticated, but we can transmit information, including visible light.”

“So you can beam out a message?” Bud asked.

“I think I can do more than that. The translator contains a complete scan of every cell in our bodies – that is, the bodies we used to have. I think I can use that information to construct a holographic image that we can beam outside.”

“Can you even see outside?” Bud asked. “I didn’t realize we had a window.”

Tom smiled and pressed some buttons on the console. “I haven’t tried it, but I think we can get a video feed from the real world. Let’s try this and see what happens.” The picture on the display was suddenly changed to show the planet Thanatos, as it appeared from space.

“Nice!” Bud asked. “Can you find the Challenger?”

Tom worked at the console for a few minutes. “You know, I just don’t see it in orbit anywhere. I’ve found our satellites, but not the ship.”

“You don’t suppose they landed on Thanatos, do you?”

“I hope not! There’s no way they could have survived.”

Bud thought for a moment. “Can’t you track it somehow, Tom? Its repelatrons emit energy, right? Can’t you pinpoint it that way?”

Tom nodded thoughtfully. “That just might work. Give me a minute to work out the details.” A few minutes later Tom smiled in triumph. “Got it! This machine is amazing. It looks like it is located…” he referenced a map, and then grew pale. “Bud, it’s at the bottom of the ocean!”

Tom quickly redirected the viewer to the coordinates of the Challenger. There, at the bottom of the sea, was his ship. It was resting quietly, its repelatrons creating a sphere around it a half-mile in diameter. The ship was parked in the midst of the ruined city.

“Hey, that looks like Townsend!” Bud said. “I think the ship is parked right in front of the capitol.”

Tom nodded. “The city’s in bad shape, but that’s exactly what it is. I just can’t figure out how Dad got the ship to the ocean floor. Wow. What an accomplishment!”

“Hey Tom,” Bud said nervously, “I hate to bug you, but what are those little guys walking around the capitol building?”

Tom zoomed the viewer closer and gasped. There, beside the capitol building, were four of the black skeletal robots. They appeared to be talking with several people who were wearing repela-suits. From their gestures it looked like they were discussing an opening in the wall that was thirty feet above them. Tom’s nervousness subsided when it became apparent that the robots were not threatening the humans. “I don’t get it, Bud. Where did they come from? Why are they working with the crew?”

Bud shrugged. “I guess it’s not too big of a surprise. You figured they were on board when your holographic penetrator was stolen. I guess this confirms it. It looks like a lot has happened since we left.”

“I bet Dad went straight to the translator,” Tom said thoughtfully. “Let me see if I can find it.” Tom worked at the console and was soon able to locate the translator’s energy signature. “Hey, Bud, that’s weird. The translator is buried under the capitol building! It looks like there’s an elevator shaft that leads right to it from the basement library.”

“That is weird,” Bud said. “I don’t remember seeing anything like that in this reality. I think we would have noticed an elevator.”

Tom nodded, then snapped his fingers. “I bet it’s because this world doesn’t have a translator! All it’s got is this building, which is used to interface with the outside world. Since there is no actual translator the builders didn’t see a need to include it in this environment.”

“Whatever you say, Tom.” Bud said. “All I know is, I want our old reality to become our only reality. This energy aquarium we’re in just isn’t my thing.”

“It wasn’t a bad solution for our space friends, though,” Tom commented. “They can exist indefinitely inside the translator, and since the environment is made from energy they can manipulate it at will. It’s got its advantages, but I’m with you, Bud. I’ll take good-old-fashioned terra firma any day.”

Tom entered the coordinates of the translator into the viewer, and a picture of a giant room appeared on the screen. The room was lined with rows and rows of shelves, each of which contained countless coffins. At the front of the room was a control station with a giant black cube, which Tom confirmed was the actual translator.

“So you mean to tell me we’re inside that little thing?” Bud asked, incredulous.

“I’m afraid so,” Tom replied.

“I would have expected it to be a lot bigger. How can that possibly hold millions of energy beings?”

“That’s a good question,” Tom said. “It may be that the energy is stored in a very compact form. It’s also possible that the inside of the cube is larger than the outside. It may contain a lot more than five cubic feet of space.”

“Do what?” Bud asked. “How would that work?”

“Oh, you’d just distort space. Kind of like the way the kronolator distorts time. I haven’t tried it, but it’s theoretically possible.”

“Hey – is that your Dad?” Bud pointed to a small group of four figures that were standing beside a stack of torn metal. They appeared to be studying the contents of two coffins.

Tom redirected the viewer to get a closer look. “That metal debris does look like the remains of our ship, but I don’t know about the figures. I mean, come on, Bud. The suit helmets have a reflective gold coating! You can’t see inside them. How could you possibly tell which one is Dad?”

Bud shrugged. “He seems to be the one giving the orders, and I figured your Dad would personally lead the landing party. It’s just a guess. By the way, what are they looking at?”

Tom moved the viewer so they could get a closer look at the two coffins that were the object of attention. Bud paled when he saw the figures inside. “Hey, Tom. Don’t those two bodies look an awful lot like us?”

Tom nodded. “And they’re in bad shape too. Judging by the look of them I think we can safely say that we’re dead. Physically, at least.”

Bud shook his head. “So how are we going to get out of this machine?”

“Well, the good news is that I think it’s possible. The machine works both ways – it can take a person and convert them to brain energy, and it can put the brain energy back in the person. The problem is that it’s got to have a body to put them into. Putting ourselves back in those corpses isn’t going to help us any.”

“Should I be worried?” Bud asked. “I mean, we’ve been in some tight spots before, but being dead is new even for us.”

Tom smiled. “I’ll let you know when to worry, Bud. Right now let’s try to contact the landing party. I’m guessing that they are communicating by radio, so I’ll need to emit a visual hologram that speaks over our Swift radio frequency. Hmmm.”

Tom Swift Sr. was standing over the bodies of Tom and Bud. He had been in the underground vault for hours, unable to tear himself away. His first emotion had been anguish, followed by anger and despair. Now he felt completely spent. All that he had left was a feeling of emptiness.

Mark touched him on his shoulder. “The atomic earth blaster is working its way toward the second machine, sir. It should reach it in a couple hours. The crew is going to stop it right in front of the vault and then dig the rest of the way. We should be able to go back home tomorrow.”

Tom Sr. nodded, but said nothing. At last he stood up. “I just can’t believe they are actually gone, Mark. How could this have happened?”

Suddenly a brilliant flash of white light filled the room. Tom Sr. turned around, startled. There, standing a few feet away from them, were Tom and Bud.

Tom Sr. whirled around, looked at the bodies in the coffins, and then looked back at the figures in the aisle. “Who are you?” he demanded.

“Hi, Dad,” Tom Jr.’s voice sounded over their suit radios. “I am so sorry it has taken us this long to get in touch with you. I would have called sooner but we ran into a few technical difficulties.”

“You’re not kidding,” the voice of Bud Barclay said. “But old genius boy found a way.”

Tom Sr. took a step toward the glowing figures. “Tom and Bud are dead,” he said firmly. “Their bodies are right there. You are nothing but impostors.”

“Yes and no, Dad. Those are our bodies, but we are actually quite alive. I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.”

Tom and Bud spent the next hour talking to Tom Sr. and explaining what had happened to them. It took some convincing, but Tom Sr. at last understood what was going on.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive,” Tom Sr. said, with tears running down his face. “I had given up all hope, Son. Please don’t ever scare me like that again. You have no idea what it’s like to lose your only son.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Tom Jr. said. “I wish we could have reached you before you got to the vault. It just took us a long time to figure out what was happening.”

“It’s ok, Tom,” Tom Sr. said.

“I hate to change the subject,” Bud said, “but why are there evil killer robots outside?”

“I guess it’s my turn to do some explaining,” Tom Sr. said. He then told Tom what had happened on board the Challenger.

“I just don’t understand,” Tom Jr. said at last. “Maybe they really are from the future. Can they overhear our conversation?”

“No, Son, they can’t. This room is shielded, which is why we couldn’t locate your homing beacons. The translator must have moved you here right after the crash. In order to talk to the ship Mark is having to step outside into the elevator shaft. He actually just left a few moments ago to let the crew know that you’ve been found. They’re going to be overjoyed.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say we’re home free just yet,” Tom Jr. warned. “Right now I’d say we were, um – ”

“Undead,” Bud quipped.

“I think we can remedy that problem,” Tom Sr. said. “Didn’t you tell me that you created the hologram by accessing the scan the translator made just before you died?”

Tom Jr. nodded. “It’s extremely complete.”

“And right now you’re transmitting information from within the translator to me, so you can obviously relay data.”

“That’s right, Dad. But that won’t help us until we have a body that the translator can move us back into.”

Tom Sr. smiled. “Then the answer is obvious. You already have a machine that can convert energy into matter. Don’t you remember?”

Tom Jr. gasped. “The Transmittaton! We can just send it the information it needs to recreate us – ”

“And then use the translator to place you brain energy back inside your bodies,” Tom Sr. finished. “I’ll need to adjust your invention to receive a high-bandwidth signal, but I can handle that. I’ll return to the ship and begin work immediately. It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. By then the atomic earth blaster should have reached the other translator, and we can take them both and get out of here.”

Tom Jr. nodded. “Meanwhile, Bud and I will do a little more research. We still don’t know how to contact the other translator or whether the robots are actually telling the truth. I’d give a lot to know what those robots are actually up to, and what is really happening on Mars.”

“Sounds good, Son. Is there a way I can contact you?”

Tom Jr. shook his head. “Not that I’ve found so far. We’ll check back in later.”

“Ok, Son. Take care of yourself. I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

With that, Tom closed the connection, and the holographic image disappeared.

After Tom Sr. had confirmed that the Challenger‘s repelatrons were not buckling under the crushing weight of the methane ocean he walked over to James and began discussing the landing party. “Before we go any further I want to lead seven men outside to explore the area. Once we know what we’re dealing with we can plan accordingly. The energy signature we’ve been tracking is coming from beneath the capitol building, so our first priority will be to find a way inside. That is where Tom would have gone, and that is where we are most likely to find them.”

“Very good, sir,” James replied. “I will remain with the ship but will select seven of my men to accompany you. Given the conditions outside I suggest you wear repela-suits. The temperature out there is hundreds of degrees below zero.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “That was my plan.”

Andy spoke up. “What will you do if the path to the device has been lost?”

“When my son was planning this trip he realized it might have become buried,” Tom Sr. replied. “He wanted to bring along a subocean geotron, but it was far too large to get on board so instead he brought an atomic earth blaster. It should be able to drill to whatever depth we need.”

The robot nodded, but said nothing.

Tom Sr. instructed Kelly McGinnis, the ship’s radar officer, to continue searching for Tom and Bud. “Are you picking up any signs of interference?” he asked.

Kelly shook her head. “No, sir, I am not. The methane does not appear to be impairing our scanning equipment.”

Tom Sr. sighed. “The boys’ signal disappeared the instant they hit the ocean. Maybe the beacons really were destroyed. Or maybe they were transported to a location where their signal is being blocked. I don’t know. Just – don’t stop looking for them. Something happened to those two young men, and I am going to get to the bottom of it.”

James spoke up. “I have instructed my communications officer to stay in touch with Fearing Island. They have been told that we landed safely and will be kept informed of our progress.”

Tom Sr. looked surprised. “You mean to tell me you can contact George Dilling from the bottom of this ocean?” he asked incredulously.

“Not exactly, sir. But we can contact the satellites that we placed in orbit after we arrived, and they can relay the signal to Fearing.”

“Excellent! Good work, James.”

After the landing party had gathered their equipment Tom Sr. led them to the ship’s elevator, which they rode to the ground. The party consisted of eight men and the four remaining robots. Tom Sr. had given the robots no particular orders, and they chose to accompany him on his search of the city.

When they stepped out of the elevator they were almost overwhelmed by the gloom of their surroundings. Directly above them looked the Challenger, which lit the surrounding area as best it could. Its repelatrons had formed a sphere of force a half-mile in diameter and was keeping the methane ocean at bay. Within the sphere the ship’s lights illuminated the ruins, but beyond the wall of force was the utter blackness of the bottom of the sea. All around the landing party were ruined buildings, twisted pieces of metal, and shattered stones. No structure had survived intact, and many homes had been completely destroyed. The streets were filled with rubble. It was obvious to everyone that the city had been destroyed in a violent war.

As soon as they got outside Tom Sr. activated the repelatrons on his suit and flew up into the air, to get a good look at the surrounding area. The remainder of the party followed him, but the robots stayed on the ground.

Andy spoke up over their suit radios. “We do not share your ability to fly, Mr. Swift. We will search for an opening from the ground.”

The remark grabbed Tom Sr.’s attention. “So they claim to be from the future,” he thought, “and built by my son, but yet they lack simple repelatron technology.” Aloud he said “Very good, Andy. Let us know if you find anything.”

While the robots scattered around the ruined capitol building the rest of the search party flew around its exterior, looking for a way in. After a half-hour one of the crewmembers made a discovery. “I’ve found something!” he cried. About thirty feet off the ground a large hole had been torn in the side of the capitol building. Tom Sr. flew over to join the crewmember and pointed his suit light inside the crevice, where he saw a large room with a hallway beyond it.

“It looks safe enough,” Tom Sr. said at last. “David, Mark, Joe – come with me. The rest of you stay outside and see if you can find another way in. I want to know if you see any signs of instability.”

Tom Sr. flew inside the hole and cautiously dropped onto the room’s stone floor. The remaining three men followed behind him. As they shined their lights around the room they saw that it was in ruins. At one point it had been a large office of some kind, but a fiery blast had blown it apart and left burn marks on the floor and walls. All that remains of the room’s original furniture were a few fragments of twisted metal.

The party left the room and walked down the hallway, where they found a stone staircase. Large portions of the building had caved in, but they were able to slowly make their way downstairs.

“This building doesn’t look so bad from the inside,” Joe Taylor remarked. “I thought it was going to be a complete loss.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “It could have been a lot worse. We could see from the Challenger that most of the structure had collapsed, but I’d hoped that the central portion was still intact. All we really needed was a way to reach the machine below us. The rest of the building isn’t important to us right now.”

After walking down three flights of stairs they reached the ground level. Tom Sr. was delighted to find that the stairs continued to lead underground. He leaned over the railing to get a better look. “It looks like this building has a couple basements – four, by the look of it. We may be in luck!”

David Foster contacted the rest of the expedition over his suit radio. “Have you found another way inside?” he asked.

“Negative,” Donny McGinnis replied. “The building’s in awful shape.”

“Well, keep looking,” David replied. “If one part of the building is intact then other parts might be as well. We’re going to descend into the basement.”

Tom Sr. led the way underground. He passed the first basement and continued down.

“Aren’t we going to explore each level?” Mark Seaton asked.

“Eventually,” Tom Sr. said. “According to my suit the energy signature we’re looking for is originating from deep beneath the building. I’d like to reach it before we do anything else.”

When they reached the lowest basement Tom Sr. opened the door walked in. The group followed close behind. Inside they could see rows and rows of shelves, each stocked with books.

“This room looks intact!” Tom Sr. said, surprised. “I guess it was so far underground that it survived unscathed. Look at all those books! This must be a library of some kind.”

The four men separated and began exploring the room. David walked over to the nearest shelf and scanned the titles. “These characters look a lot like space symbols,” he said.

“That’s exactly what they are,” Tom Sr. replied. “Some of them I can read, but a lot of them are new to me. Apparently our space friends have had some contact with this planet.”

Andy spoke up over the suit radio. “This is their homeworld, Mr. Swift. If you could read those books they would tell you their history.”

Tom Sr. removed one from the shelf. “It’s frozen solid,” he remarked.

“Being at the bottom of a methane ocean probably didn’t do it much good,” Joe replied.

“You’re probably right. Here – let’s take a few of them with us. Maybe we can find some way to extract their contents without destroying the book. There might be a lot they can tell us.”

“I’ve found something!” David said. He gestured toward the far wall, where they saw a large, metal door. Beside the door were signs covered in space symbols.

“What do the signs say?” Mark asked.

Tom Sr. walked up to them and examined them closely. “I’m not exactly sure, Mark. It says that this elevator leads to a fallout shelter of some kind. That’s about all I can read.”

David tried to open the door, but it refused to budge. “I’ll handle it,” Tom Sr. said. After using his repelatrons to firmly anchor his position, he aimed a single repelatron at the door and fired. The force of the blast shattered the door and blew its pieces into the elevator shaft, where they fell into the darkness. Tom Sr. then stepped over and calmly looked down into the deep, bottomless hole.

“That’s what we’re looking for, gentlemen,” he said crisply. He then activated his repelatrons, flew into the shaft, and led the party down into the darkness.

Tom and Bud were standing in front of a large, brick building. It was late at night, and a beautiful array of stars filled the night sky. Two small moons were overhead, emitting a gentle glow that lit the empty city. The area was quiet, except for the sound of a breeze that blew down the wide streets.

“How did you ever find this place?” Tom asked. “This building looks just like all the others!”

“Remember how I was gone for hours?” Bud asked. “I checked building, after building, after building…”

“I get it,” Tom replied. “Now that’s what I call persistence.”

“I would call it wanting to get out of here. I don’t know about you, Tom, but I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life in the Twilight Zone.”

Tom laughed and led the way into the building. As soon as he stepped in the door he realized that Bud had struck gold. The room was enormous, covering thousands of square feet and housing dozens of pieces of electronic equipment. Every empty space on the walls was covered with a giant glass monitor. The ceiling consisted of large, white squares that emitted a soft yellow light. Comfortable leather chairs dotted the room.

“Woah,” Tom said. “They’ve got more stuff here then I have in my lab back home!”

Bud nodded. “Now you see why I didn’t want to touch anything! There’s no telling what this stuff does.”

“There’s one way to find out,” Tom replied. He sat down in a leather chair and rolled it over to a large keyboard that was covered in symbols. He examined it for a moment and the pressed a button. The entire room suddenly came to life. Pictures appeared on every display, and mathematical figures began scrolling by. Tom pressed another button, and the pictures shifted.

Bud shook his head in wonder. “Why do I get the feeling I would have picked the one button that blew everything up?”

Tom smiled as he continued working at the keyboard. “It’s not that bad, Bud. Remember, I’ve spent the entire day reading up on these people. I think I know exactly what is going on. The information on these screens is confirming my suspicions.”

Bud sat down in another chair and rolled over to Tom. “Please, do tell! You were about to explain how we can leave the land of Oz and get back to Kansas. I’m homesick, Tom. I want to see Auntie Em again.”

Tom laughed. “You’d better not let Sandy know you called her that! She’s been on your mind ever since we left Shopton, hasn’t she?”

Bud blushed. “She did ask me to send her a postcard, remember? I don’t want to let the poor kid down.”

Tom shook his head with mock seriousness. “If you don’t watch out she’s going to capture you and you’re going to end up an old, married man like Dad. Ah, here we go!” Tom pressed a button and then shouted in triumph. “I knew it! There you have it, Bud. Success!”

Bud looked at the blankly screen. “I see lines of meaningless data, Tom. You’re going to have to explain it to me in simple terms. What’s going on?”

“Hmmm,” Tom said thoughtfully. “I guess I’d better start at the beginning. Do you remember Exman?”

“Are you kidding? How could I forget? I mean, how often do we get alien visitors from outer space?”

Tom thought a moment. “Actually, that happens quite a lot. Don’t you remember the Green Orb?”

Bud shuddered. “Now there’s an adventure I’ve tried to forget. Talk about weird! But, ok. Most people rarely get visited by aliens. I’ll admit that you’re not ‘most people’. Even by our standards, though, Exman was a bit unusual.”

Tom nodded. “And why was Exman so strange?”

“Because he wasn’t a physical being! He was made out of some strange brain energy. You had to build a metal case for him just so that he could walk around and interact with the physical world.”

“Exactly!” Tom said. “Here’s what happened. As I told you a few minutes ago, our space friends learned that their DNA was rapidly mutating itself into oblivion. When they found this out it was too late to reverse the damage, so they started looking for other ways to survive. What they decided to do was build a machine that could turn them into energy-based beings – a translator, so to speak. They became a race of Exmen.”

Bud was taken aback. “Now, wait just a minute, Tom. I thought these people were pathetic at biology! Don’t you remember our moon expedition? They were so panicked about an illness that had struck their livestock that they sent some of their diseased animals to our moon so that we could find a cure. I don’t know about you, Tom, but to me, sending your cows to a primitive alien race in hopes that they can find a cure has to be one of the most clear-cut cases of desperation I’ve ever seen.”

“Cows?” Tom said, puzzled. “I don’t remember there being cows on that ship. But regardless, you’re right. They could not have built the translator on their own, but they didn’t have to. According to the history book I read, when our space friends realized they had a problem they started searching the galaxy for a race of biologists. I think the translator was a joint venture. The biologists provided the expertise necessary to do the conversion, and the space friends provided the mathematical know-how.”

“They provided what?” Bud asked. “What does math have to do with this?”

“Don’t you remember Exman? He was helpless in the physical world! The translator doesn’t just convert people to energy, Bud. It also provides them with an environment to live in.”

“You mean our space friends now live in a giant electronic brain?” Bud asked doubtfully.

Tom shook his head. “Not exactly. Our computers back home are good at executing instructions, but our space friends weren’t looking to build a giant simulator. They wanted to build an environment in which energy beings could live and interact. Think of Sandy’s aquarium back at home. Her fish can’t live outside it, but inside they are free to swim around and enjoy their surroundings. The translator acts like an aquarium for the Exmen. It provides them with a rich environment – one that is expressed in terms of higher mathematics. Our space friends found a way to translate those equations into something that the Exmen could perceive as a real place.”

Bud frowned. “So you’re telling me that millions of Exmen live in the translator that’s right here in this room?”

“Well, yes and no. First, remember that there are two translators on Thanatos, neither of which are located in this room. The machinery you see here just offers us a way to interact with the translator that resides at the bottom of the methane sea. From what I can tell based on these logs, the space beings that still live on this planet reside in the translator that’s north of here. They probably thought that living in the one under the sea was too great a risk, and I can’t say that I blame them. No, the one that rests beneath the sea is currently home to only two people.”

Bud’s eyes suddenly grew wide. “You’re not serious, Tom. You can’t be serious! Please tell me that those two people are not the two of us.”

Tom nodded. “You got it, Bud. This world that we see around us is being generated by the translator. It was modeled after the way Thanatos looked before the war happened and the planet was destroyed.”

“Now, woah there, Tom. Wait just a minute! Are you telling me that you and I have been turned into brain energy?”

Tom nodded. “It makes sense a lot of sense if you think about it. I knew all of this fit together somehow, but until I entered this room I couldn’t consciously put the pieces together. The reason that Townsend looks brand-new is because it actually is – the translator created it for us just a few hours ago. No one has ever lived here before. We don’t get tired or hungry because we’re now made of energy. Exman didn’t have to be fed, Bud, and neither do we.”

“But that’s crazy! How did we even get here? I don’t remember asking anyone to do this!”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out. Do you see this data on the screen?” Tom asked. Bud nodded. “You see, after our space friends built the translator they decided to put off becoming energy-based beings as long as possible. To accomplish this the translator was set up to monitor all life forms on the planet. In the event that one of them began to die the machine would scan them and convert them into brain energy. When we hit the ocean our ship broke up and we were moments away from death. So, the machine did what it was designed to do: it grabbed us and placed us here. It probably saved our lives, Bud.”

“I still don’t get it,” Bud replied. “These people were aliens, right? We’re not talking about humans here. Why did the process even work on us? How could we be that similar to them?”

Tom shrugged. “I admit this would be the first alien race we’ve seen that had any biological similarities to us at all. But that could be exactly why the space friends made settlements on Earth in the first place. It’s possible that of all the planets they’d found we were the only world that resembled them, so they made contact. After all, if you’re going to make colonies it makes sense to plant them on worlds that are like your own. I don’t have any proof of that, but it is a theory.”

“Where does the war fit in?” Bud asked. “And what about our space friends on Mars? After all, energy beings don’t need to keep herds of livestock around – they can just electrons for breakfast, or whatever it is they do.”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t know. I think I can find out, though, given a little time. The memory of these computers is pretty extensive.”

“And here’s another question for you, genius boy. How do we get out of here?”

Tom sighed. “I don’t know, Bud. I just don’t know. It may not be possible. Outside of this machine I think we may be dead.”

It took Bud about fifteen minutes to fly the Extrasolar I from the mesa to the city that Tom had spotted. During their short flight Tom experimented with the radio but was unable to pick up any ground stations. “Hmmm,” was all that he said.

As they approached the city Bud lowered the ship to an altitude of 1000 feet so they could get a better view of it. The metropolis appeared to cover roughly ninety square miles, and the river that meandered through the valley ran right through the heart of the city. Tom was surprised to see that the buildings were all stone and brick structures, exactly three stories tall, and tightly packed together. A network of wide, twisty roads wound its way through the city.

“It kind of looks old-fashioned,” Bud commented.

Tom nodded. “I’ve seen cities like that in Europe. A lot of towns there are centuries old and have grown up around ancient streets and buildings. That kind of looks like what happened here.”

Bud began looking for a place to land when he suddenly noticed something. “Hey Tom, I hate to mention this, but where are all the people?”

Tom removed a set of binoculars from the glove compartment box and used them to get a closer look at the city. “Well what do you know. There’s no one there! It looks like the town is deserted.”

Bud shook his head. “Freaky. Mind if I scout around a bit before we set down?”

“Be my guest, fly boy.”

Bud circled the city for a half-hour, carefully scanning for any signs of life. At last he admitted defeat. “I just don’t get it, Tom. What gives?”

Tom shrugged. “I’m not sure. Let’s land and take a look around.”

“Do you have any particular spot in mind?”

Tom thought for a moment. “Wasn’t there a big, important-looking building in the middle of the city? I seem to remember it having a nice, large lawn in front of it. Let’s land there. It might be the capitol or something.”

As Bud landed the ship he shook his head sourly. “You do realize that we have no idea what we’re getting into, don’t you? This place could have been ravaged by a horrible disease, for all we know. It could be a death trap.” The Extrasolar I landed neatly on a patch of lawn outside the imposing stone building. Bud killed the ship’s power and sighed.

Tom unbuckled his restraining harness, got out of the ship, and stepped onto the lawn. “If so, Bud, it’s a well-manicured death trap. Look at this grass! Even my lawn at home doesn’t look this nice. They must be using an incredible fertilizer.”

Bud exited the ship and joined his friend. “I don’t like this,” he muttered. “What gives? If this city is abandoned then it should be an overgrown wreck, but this place has clearly been cared for. But who’s been looking after it?”

“I’ve got no idea, Bud. To be honest, it doesn’t really worry me.”

“And that’s another thing.” Bud grabbed his friend by the arm and looked him in the eye. “What’s up with you? Ever since we got here you’ve been in some kind of daze. We’re in big trouble, Tom. Why aren’t you worried?”

Tom frowned for a moment. “That’s a good question, Bud. All I can say is that somehow this feels right. I think I was expecting this.”

Bud looked at his friend incredulously. “You were expecting to be abducted from Thanatos the moment we hit the methane ocean? Then why didn’t you warn me? I mean, c’mon, Tom. I could have stayed in bed this morning!”

Tom shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I wasn’t consciously expecting it, but when it happened, it made sense. It’s as if this confirmed a theory I had a long time ago and can’t quite remember. I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. Something tells me that this is where we need to be right now. That’s all I know.”

Bud nodded. “I don’t understand it at all, but I’ll play along. Now, believe me, if it was anyone other than you talking I would have called the guys with the in white coats, but I trust you, Tom. Just please, don’t be wrong. I’ve got a date with Sandy I don’t want to miss.”

Tom smiled. “You two have become quite the couple, haven’t you? I’ve noticed that you almost never miss a date with her.”

“Except when I get trapped underground when your subocean geotron malfunctions, or we get stranded in space, or something like that. You know how it goes.”

“What can I say? That’s what you get for hanging around the Swift family! Something tells me that one day Sandy is going to have adventures of her own.”

The building in front of them was a massive, imposing structure made of large blocks of reddish sandstone. Tall, narrow glass windows dotted its exterior, and a flight of stairs led up to two massive wooden doors. At the top of the building was a pinnacle with a device that Tom assumed was a clock of some kind.

As they approached the structure Bud noticed a large brass plaque hanging near the door. “Capitol Building, City of Townsend. Established 4319,” he read aloud.

Tom looked at him in amazement. “When did you learn to read space symbols?”

His friend shrugged. “I have no idea, Tom. Maybe I just picked it up from spending so much time with you. A day hardly goes by without you getting some message from space.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Tom said. He opened the building’s massive doors and walked inside. Bud followed behind him.

The two young men were startled to find that the building was completely deserted. Inside they found no carpet, no furniture, and no signs of life. They spent more than an hour combing through it before they made their discovery. The building had four basements, and on the lowest basement was a library, filled with shelves and shelves of books. Rows of soft, white lights hung from the ceiling and gently lit the room.

Tom walked among the shelves and quickly scanned the titles. “Now here’s an interesting one. ‘HISTORY OF THE MATHEMATICIANS’.”

Bud shook his head. “I don’t think you got that last symbol quite right, Tom. It’s more like ‘race of people who really loved math’.”

“It’s something like that,” Tom agreed. “I don’t think we have a word that quite corresponds. That term could be what our space friends call themselves.”

“I think I’ll stick with ‘space friends’,” Bud said. “Mathians just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” He looked around and shuddered. “Man. Doesn’t this place give you the creeps? I keep expecting Rod Serling to step out any minute and tell us we’ve entered the Twilight Zone.”

“The what?” Tom asked.

“Never mind, Tom. I keep forgetting you don’t watch TV.”

Tom shrugged. “I’m more of the adventurous type. You’re more likely to find me in a cave in Africa then sitting in front of a television.”

“Which explains why we’re in the city of the undead, instead of back on Earth with the rest of the human race,” Bud joked. He watched as Tom took the history book off the shelf, settled down in an overstuffed leather chair, and opened it to its first page. “I take it you’re going to be here a while?” Bud asked.

Tom nodded. “If this book is about our space friends then it might offer us some clues. It’s worth looking into.”

“Could be. I’ll leave you to your book, Tom, and will go explore the city a bit. I’ll try to be back in a couple hours.” Bud then walked up the stairs, out of the building, and down a deserted street.

Tom Sr. was on the control deck of the Challenger, making the final preparations for their attempt to land on Thanatos. The day was far spent, but he was not willing to delay the search-and-rescue operation any longer than necessary. Most of his time had been spent working with the robots and helping them make the necessary changes to the ship’s control systems.

Earlier in the day he had a brief, private conversation with James Nathan. “You have to admit those robots are good at their work,” he had told Tom.

“If only I knew what work they were up to,” Tom Sr. replied thoughtfully. “Did you take the downed robot to my lab?”

James nodded. “I also rigged up the holographic penetrator as you ordered. If a robot attempts to get inside we’ll know about it immediately.”

“I’m telling you I don’t trust them, James. I don’t believe for a minute there are only four of those monsters left on the ship, and I don’t believe they’re here to help us. The answer is somewhere in that machine, and after we get to the surface I’m going to find out what is really going on.”

“Pardon me for saying this, sir, but what happens if they really are benevolent creatures that are trying to save the human race? I believe you were the one that told your son he should seriously consider that possibility.”

Tom Sr. stopped and thought for a moment. “If I find out that’s the case then I guess I’ll have to fix that robot. The blast shorted it out, but I think it’s still relatively intact. It should be possible to start it again. I bet their leader could tell us how to do it.”

By the end of the day Tom Sr. had to admit that the robots had done a thorough job rewiring the Challenger. After the final test was completed Tom Sr. turned to the lead robot. “I really believe this has an excellent chance of working.”

The robot nodded its head, a gesture that irritated Tom Sr. as much as it had its son. The only distinguishing feature of the machine’s head were its two red eyes. The robot had no nose, ears, or mouth. Watching it perform a human gesture gave Tom a fleeting feeling of horror. “I agree with your conclusions, Mr. Swift. I believe this ship is ready for departure.”

“Do you have a name?” Tom Sr. asked.

“I do not. But if you wish, you may give me one.”

Tom Sr. thought for a moment. “I think I’ll call you Andy,” he said at last.

“After your old nemesis Andy Foger, I presume?” the robot said, with no change in tone.

“Could be,” Tom Sr. replied. “Only time will tell.”

After checking with James to make sure that everyone was in place, Tom Sr. gave the order to descend to the planet below. The four remaining robots took positions on the control deck. The lead robot stood beside Tom Sr. and watched as he worked at his terminal.

On Tom’s command, the Challenger left its orbit around Thanatos and began descending into the planet’s atmosphere. Tom closely monitored the ship’s progress, and was pleased that it was able to enter the upper atmosphere with very little trouble. “Of course, the real test won’t happen until we get closer to the surface. How far are we from the ocean?” he asked.

James consulted the navigation console. “About a half-hour, sir.”

“Start watching for that homing signal as of right now,” Tom Sr. commanded. “Let me know the moment you find it.”

“Will do, sir.”

Tom Sr. nodded, and looked out the window as the spaceship slowly made its way through the planet’s atmosphere. The ship’s repelatrons created a wide void around it. In the distance Tom could see fast-moving clouds, which were occasionally lit by arcs of energy. It was hard to see anything through the utter darkness.

The mood was a somber one. Tom thought about what had happened that morning. He kept replaying the disaster in his mind, wondering if he had missed anything. “They’ve got to still be alive,” he whispered to himself.

When the ship was nearing the methane ocean James spoke up again. “We’re taking her down into the turbulent area, sir.”

Tom Sr. nodded and said nothing. Andy, the robot, stood behind him and watched silently. The ship slowly descended into the hurricane-force winds that raked the planet’s surface. They could feel a slight jar from time to time, but the ride was extremely smooth.

Andy spoke up. “The repelatrons are under a great deal of stress, Mr. Swift.”

Tom Sr. nodded. “I see that. So far, though, they’re staying out of the danger zone. I do have to hand it to you, Andy. Without the automatic controls you installed we would not have survived.”

The robot said nothing.

Everyone was silent as the ship approached the methane lake. This time, instead of striking its surface with tremendous force, the ship slid smoothly into the sea. The repelatrons forced the liquid methane far from the ship, creating a bubble nearly a mile across.

“As we descend we’re not going to be able to maintain that diameter,” Tom Sr. said. “The weight of the methane is going to be too great. I think we should be able to handle a half-mile, though.”

“I agree,” Andy replied.

“Are you picking up any signals?” Tom Sr. asked his crew.

“Not yet, sir,” James replied.

Out the window the crew could see absolutely nothing. James ordered his crew to turn on the ship’s giant searchlights, but they were not able to penetrate any distance. Visibility was zero.

Tom Sr. tracked their progress by radar, and as the weight of the methane above them grew too great he lowered the radius of the repelatron’s force wall. The city was located a mile beneath the surface, and it took them roughly an hour to descend to its depth. During that time the crew was unable to locate the signals from the homing beacons.

“We’ve reached the city,” James announced suddenly. Tom Sr. looked out the window but could see absolutely nothing. He checked the radar and saw that they were right above it. The radar coverage was good enough to allow Tom Sr. to make out a rough map of the city.

“It looks like the city is made up of a lot of small, stone buildings and wide, twisty streets,” Tom Sr. said. “Curious. I would have expected something more modern from a race capable of space travel.”

Andy spoke up. “Your space friends were a quiet race that spent their time studying the higher sciences. They had no love of grand buildings, but lived in the ancient structures built they their ancestors. You would have liked them.”

“Where would you like us to land?” James asked.

Tom Sr. consulted the radar map. “The energy signature the space friends told us about seems to be coming from underneath that large building in the middle of the city. Let’s land there. I think its lawn is large enough to hold the ship.”

James nodded and gave the order. A few moments later the Challenger landed at the bottom of the ocean. The ship’s repelatrons pushed away all the liquid methane within a quarter-mile radius, and its giant searchlights easily penetrated the now-empty space. Directly in front of the ship they saw a massive building made out of a reddish sandstone. At one time it must have been an imposing structure, but it was now in ruins. “It looks like it’s been bombed,” one of the crewmembers said.

“It was,” Andy replied. “At one time this was a beautiful world. Then one day the Space Legion attacked and turned it into what you see now.”

“And then time and erosion finished the job,” Tom Sr. replied. “If the boys are anywhere, though, that’s where they will be. They’ve got to be there!”

Andy spoke up. “I believe I see a sign on the side of the building, by the entrance.”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “It’s too far away for my eyes to see. Let me train the megascope on it.” A moment later a picture of a cracked, worn sign appeared on a large monitor. “It’s covered in space symbols,” James said.

“I can translate them for you,” Andy replied. “The sign reads ‘ Capitol Building, City of Townsend. Established 4319’.”

Late that night, Bud wandered back inside the capitol building’s basement. He found Tom still sitting in his chair, reading. Books were piled around Tom, who had obviously been busy.

Tom looked up as his friend walked in and took a seat. “Find anything?” he asked.

Bud sighed. “Yes and no. The city is more or less completely deserted, Tom. There’s one building north of here that has a bunch of working computer equipment, but every other building is completely empty. I didn’t search them all, of course, but I went into quite a few of them. They’re all the same.”

The mention of the computer equipment intrigued Tom. “You didn’t happen to experiment with the computers, did you, Bud?”

Bud shook his head. “You know me, Tom – I didn’t touch them! I was afraid I might press the wrong button and cause the world to end. I figured I’d leave that part to you.”

Tom nodded and was about to say something, but Bud cut him off. “It just doesn’t feel right, Tom. I’m nervous. Every single building was empty. Every street was empty. There’s no one in this whole city, but there’s also no dust, no dirt, and no signs of wear. It doesn’t make any sense! If this city has been deserted for ages then there ought to be evidence of decay. It looks for all the world like the entire city was built just this morning and then abandoned.”

Tom smiled. “I have a theory, Bud. I don’t know everything, but I’ve found some clues. It turns out that this is the home planet of our space friends.”

Bud looked surprised. “Are you sure, Tom?”

He nodded. “Oh, there’s no doubt! This history book goes back to the earliest time of their race, and mentions the city of gold that we found at the bottom of our ocean, the settlements we discovered on Earth, and the colony they founded on Mars. This is definitely their home planet.”

“Then where are all the people?”

“I’m getting to that,” Tom replied. “I won’t go into everything right now, but our friends had a real passion for higher mathematics. Humans are generalists, Bud – we’ve got experts in the physical sciences, experts in music, experts in biology, and experts in pretty much everything else. These people weren’t. Their whole civilization was built around mathematics, and they just didn’t care about other things. Even their written language was based on that concept.”

“Weird,” Bud said. “Why not surfing, Tom? I could understand a civilization built around the joy of beaches. They could have – ”

Tom cut him off. “The thing is, this single-minded devotion eventually got them into trouble. One day something happened that caused their world to be bathed in high levels of radiation. I don’t know if something went wrong with their atmosphere, or if their star changed, or what, but their DNA began mutating far faster than normal. However, they didn’t notice it – not at first. That’s what did them in.”

“You lost me, Tom. Mutations?”

Tom nodded. “In order for a race to remain viable the DNA it passes from generation to generation has to remain intact. DNA was designed to handle a certain amount of errors, but the more you accumulate the more problems you’re going to have, and it can be really difficult to fix things once you have a problem. These people started noticing that something was seriously wrong when they began falling ill with very strange diseases. By the time they realized what had happened it was too late.”

“Too late for what?” Bud asked.

“Too late for their species to survive,” Tom replied. “When this book was written they were only a few centuries away from a complete genetic meltdown. Their DNA had become so damaged that they were on the verge of not being able to produce viable offspring.”

Bud was shocked. “When did all that happen?”

“I don’t know, Bud. The book gives exact years, but I don’t know how to correlate that with our own calendar. All I know is they were just beginning a project to deal with their imminent extinction when the book ended.”

Bud sighed. “That’s awful, Tom. But how does that help us?”

Tom smiled. “I told you I had a theory, didn’t I? Well tell me, Bud. What time is it?”

Bud checked his watch. “Nine thirty-seven. Man! I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Have you been hungry or thirsty today?” Tom asked.

Bud shook his head. “I haven’t been tired either, come to think of it. In fact, I’m not even tired now.”

“Think, Bud. You don’t need food or rest. What does that make you think?”

Bud scratched his head. “That I’m dead?”

Tom laughed. “No, Bud, you’re not dead. But you might not be exactly alive either. For the moment let’s call it being undead.”

“Are you kidding me?” Bud asked.

“In a way I am. And in a way I’m not.” Tom grabbed a large book that was lying on the floor and opened it to a place he had marked. Bud realized that volume was an atlas. “Do you see this city?” Tom asked.

Bud nodded. “It looks like Townsend to me. I can see the river, the valley – yup, that’s it!”

Tom turned the book to its front, where it displayed a map of the entire globe. “According to these notes the planet described in this book has a radius of about 2000 miles, which is roughly half that of Earth, and its surface terrain just happens to match that of Thanatos. I didn’t realize it before, but the land forms on this map are quite similar to the ones on the extrasolar planet. In fact, the valley we’re in and the location of Townsend resembles floor of the methane ocean and the location of the underwater city. There are some differences, but there are even more similarities.”

Bud felt a chill go up his spine. “What are you saying, Tom?”

“I’ve got a hunch that we never left Thanatos, and that we made it to that underwater city. I believe I know what that mysterious device was meant to do.”

“And that is?” Bud asked.

Tom smiled. “Take me to that room you found that’s filled with computers, Bud, and I’ll show you!”

The crew of the Challenger had watched the progress of the Extrasolar I from the moment it left the hangar. Tom’s father had connected a large display on the control deck to the ship’s megascope space prober, and used its automatic tracking ability to monitor the progress of the shuttlecraft. Worry began to mount when Bud lowered the ship out of the upper atmosphere and started losing control.

Chow was the first to voice the crew’s concerns. “Those fellers are in a world o’ hurt. Ain’t there somethin’ we can do for ’em?”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “I’m afraid they’re on their own, Chow. All we can do now is pray for their safe arrival.”

“Bud is the best pilot in the business,” James said. “If anyone can make it it’s him.”

“That is what worries me,” Tom Sr. replied, with genuine concern in his voice. “What if he can’t?”

All conversation in the room ceased when the Extrasolar I drew near the methane ocean. “C’mon, Bud,” one of the crewmembers whispered. They all watched as the wind violently tossed the shuttle around in the sky. The picture on the megascope was so sharp that they could see right through the ship’s transparent canopy. Everyone could see that Bud was trying desperately to regain control over the ship.

“They’re getting too – ” James stammered, and then it happened. A powerful gust of wind slammed the Extrasolar I into the sea with tremendous force. A few people involuntarily gasped as they watched the shuttle get torn apart by the sudden impact. Their view of the crash was briefly obscured by an enormous methane wave, and then the picture went black and was replaced with the message “HOMING BEACON NOT FOUND”.

Tom’s father was the first to react. “The megascope has lost its tracking signal,” he said tersely. “McGinnis, do you see the ship on radar?”

The Challenger’s radar officer shook her head. “I’m no longer picking up a signal,” she said quietly.

“What about their suits?” Tom Sr. demanded. “There are tracking beacons in both of their repela-suits. Does that register? We may be able to rescue them with the Transmittaton if – ”

James spoke up. “We’re no longer reading those either, sir.”

Tom Sr. said nothing. Dark fears clutched at his heart, and waves of anguish washed over him. He struggled to keep from breaking down. “It can’t be,” he whispered to himself. “I can’t have lost them. They’ve got to still be out there. They’ve just got to be.”

He struggled to regain control over his emotions, and failed. With an uncertain voice he said, “Are you seeing any signs of debris or wreckage? If their beacons were damaged by the impact they may no longer be transmitting, or the signal may be so weak underwater that it cannot break through the planet’s interference.”

Over the next few minutes there was complete silence as the crew used the megascope to scan for signs of the missing vessel. Tom’s father was the first to speak. “I think I’ve found something,” he said, with obvious anguish in his voice. He redirected the megascope to a new set of coordinates. There, drifting underwater, was the transparent tomasite dome of the Extrasolar I. The ship itself was gone.

“That’s amazing!” James said, astonished. “How did you ever find a transparent piece of plastic in a dark ocean?”

“Because I wasn’t looking for just a stupid piece of plastic,” Tom Sr. shouted. “I was looking signs that my son might still be alive.”

“Tom’s gone, isn’t he?” Chow said quietly.

Tom Sr. calmed down and shook his head. “They’ve got to be there somewhere, Chow. I refuse to believe that they died. The beacons on those suits were designed to withstand anything short of a direct hit with a nuclear weapon. They’ve got to still be operating. Maybe – ” his voice trailed off.

“What would you like us to do, sir?” James asked.

Tom Sr. did not respond for several minutes. He just sat quietly and watched the tomasite dome drift slowly toward the bottom of the methane ocean. “The beacons and the canopy were both made of tomasite,” he said at last. “If the canopy survived – and it was much more fragile than the beacons – then surely the beacons survived as well, even though we can’t detect their signal. I’m guessing that the impact was too rough for the ship to stand and so it was destroyed. But I refuse to believe that it took its passengers with it.”

“But how’d they escape?” Chow asked.

Tom Sr. shook his head. “I don’t know, Chow. It doesn’t seem possible. But there’s no way the impact should have destroyed the homing beacons on the suits, and the suits were designed to operate in that methane sea. I think they’re still out there, and that something on the planet is blocking us from receiving their homing signal.”

James spoke up. “What about the beacon on the ship itself? We’re not picking that up either.”

“I know, James, I know. But if Tom and Bud are still alive, they’ll head toward that device they came all this way to get. We need to go find them, and our best best is to investigate that undersea city.”

Timothy Stryker, the ship’s communications officer, spoke up. “Excuse me, sir. I hate to bother you, but we’re getting a call from George Dilling on Fearing Island. He wants a status update, sir. What should I tell him?”

Tom Sr. glanced at his watch. “I guess it is time to report in,” he said heavily. “I had lost all track of time. Tell him – ” and then he stopped.

“Should I tell him that we’ve lost our communications lock on Tom?” Tim asked.

Tom Sr. shook his head. “No, Tim, tell him everything. Don’t mince any words. My wife deserves to know what has happened to our son.”

Tim nodded and relayed the message. Chow then spoke up. “So what’re you gonna do, boss?”

“We’re going to go after them,” Tom Sr. replied.

“But how’re you gonna do that? You’re not gonna take the other shuttlecraft, are you?”

Tom Sr. shook his head. “No, Chow, we’re not going to do that again. This time we’re going to take the Challenger.”

Tom Jr. heard Bud’s voice through their suit’s communication system. “Woah! What was that?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered opened. He saw that he was still strapped into his seat in the Extrasolar I. Bud was sitting beside him and slowly coming around. “We must have hit the ocean pretty hard,” Tom replied groggily. “All I remember is – ” and then he stopped in amazement.

The ship’s tomasite canopy was gone, and the shuttle was resting quietly on a small grassy knoll beneath a clear blue sky. Tom suddenly realized that the ship had been parked on a mesa that towered above a large, fertile valley. Behind them a waterfall thundered over a rocky ledge and turned into a wide river that snaked through the valley below. Large, old-growth trees clustered thickly around the river. On the horizon they could see a city of some sort.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Tom,” Bud remarked. “Do you think we’re dead?”

Tom shook his head. “I don’t think you get to take your flying saucer with you when you die, Bud. But I have no idea where we’re at. This doesn’t look anything like Thanatos.”

“Could we be delusional?”

Tom shrugged. “I guess it’s a possibility, but it doesn’t seem likely. This seems pretty real to just be a hallucination. Besides, in my hallucinations you make better jokes.”

Bud shook his head in confusion as he pressed buttons on the ship’s dashboard. “So let me get this straight, Tom. We collided with the ocean so violently that we lost our protective canopy and were magically transported to another planet. You didn’t put a warp drive in this thing that you forgot to tell me about, did you?”

“Nope, Bud, I’m afraid not. It does seem really unlikely, but here we are!”

“Really unlikely is putting it mildly, Tom! Thanatos is a dead, uninhabited wreck, and there were no other ships in the area. Do you really expect me to believe that someone beamed us up at the last possible second, transported us to another planet, and then beamed us down again safe and sound?”

Tom shrugged. “Not really. But all of your logic isn’t making the valley disappear, fly boy. I’m sure there is a perfectly logical explanation, but right now I can’t think of it.”

Tom unbuckled the restraining harness and stepped out of the ship. He used his suit’s sensors to check the environment. “Hmmm. My suit is telling me that the atmosphere is breathable and devoid of any life-threatening toxins. I’ll take the chance.” He stretched, removed his helmet, and took a deep breath of the warm summer air. “Ahhhh. Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

As Bud worked to remove his own helmet Tom took a better look at the area around them. A cool breeze was blowing across the mesa, and a bright yellow star was shining in the sky. As he listened he could hear birds in the distance. He knelt down and ran his fingers through the fresh green grass. “Amazing,” he whispered. “This could be somewhere on Earth, Bud. It’s uncanny.”

Bud stepped outside the ship and joined Tom. “Hey, that’s weird,” he said.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Take a look at the ship and tell me if you see anything strange.”

Tom turned around and studied the ship closely for a minute. “I don’t see anything offhand, Bud. Oh, wait, I get it. Where’s the hull damage?”

“Exactly! The ship is absolutely pristine, even though we hit the ocean so hard we both blacked out. How is it possible we didn’t even scratch the paint?”

“I have no idea,” Tom said. “Say, how long were we out?”

Bud looked at his watch. “Let me think. We left the ship around 8am, and it took us about an hour to get to the lake. My watch tells me it’s now three in the afternoon, so we’ve been out for a while. That’s assuming it’s still the same day. We could have been out for weeks for all I know.”

“That’s interesting. What I want to know is, why aren’t we floating somewhere in the methane ocean?”

“Beats me, skipper. So now what do we do?”

Tom got back in the ship and strapped himself in. Bud followed him a moment later. “Can you raise the Challenger?” Tom asked.

“Nope,” Bud replied. “I already tried that. I’m not picking up any vessels in orbit, either. We appear to be the only ship out there.”

“Very strange. Well, unless you have a better idea, I suggest we fly over to that city over there. Maybe its inhabitants can explain where we are and how we got here.”

“Sounds good to me!” Bud said. He lifted the shuttlecraft off of the mesa and flew it across the sky.

Hours later, Tom Sr. was still on the control deck of the Challenger. This time he was having a long talk with Ned Newton, who was located in California. George Dilling had relayed the call through Fearing Island

Ned was talking. “That sounds like a long shot, Tom.”

“I know,” Tom Sr. replied. “But if there’s even a chance that they’re still alive then I’m going to act on it. I’ve got to try.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? I didn’t think your ship was really built to handle that kind of weather. What’s going to keep you from suffering the same fate?”

Tom Sr. sighed. “I think Tom and I were both wrong, Ned. Tom felt that a smaller, sleeker craft would be more suited to flying in extreme weather conditions, and I agreed with him. What we failed to take into account is that his ship just didn’t have enough power to stand up against the wind. Once it hit violent turbulence Bud lost all control and they fell out of the sky. What you really want is a very, very large ship – one so large and heavy that the wind can’t buffet it about.”

“I think I understand. A stream can easily carry a pebble along, but it takes a raging flood to move a car. But what does that have to do with the Challenger?”

Tom Sr. grabbed a stack of papers from the desk in front of him and began combing through them. “I’ve been crunching some numbers, Ned, and I think we can beat the wind. Ah, here we go. My plan is to use the ship’s repelatrons to create a bubble of force around the ship. We’ll tune them to the makeup of the wind and keep it at bay.”

“Kind of like the way your deep-sea hydrodomes create enormous bubbles of air at the bottom of the sea,” Ned replied.

“Exactly. The repelatrons on this ship are pretty powerful. I think we can create a sphere that’s roughly a mile and a half in diameter, and depending on how we aim the other repelatrons we can make the ship appear to be much heavier than it is.”

“We’re still talking about 500mph winds,” Ned pointed out.

“But the wall of force should keep the winds from striking and damaging the fragile surface of the ship, and make it much harder to bounce us around. The repelatrons are designed to get this ship up to a speed of hundreds of thousands of miles per hour. Surely it can keep a 500mph wind at bay.”

Ned was silent for a moment. “I wish I could be there with you,” he said at last. “We usually do things like this together.”

“I know you do. I’ll be careful, and will stay in touch.”

“Please do. If I don’t hear anything from you within 72 hours I’m going to fix up the Cosmotron Express and come out there myself.”

Tom Sr. was taken aback. “Surely you’re not serious! Do you have any idea how expensive that would be?”

“I think so,” Ned replied. Tom Sr. could hear him rustling papers on the other side of the line. “I’ve been running the numbers on it since I heard the news. If you include the cost of the fusion drive, plus the kronolator, plus wiring and installation, it comes to around $2 billion – which is a lot, even for Swift Enterprises. We could probably get it done in a month, if we really pushed it. Which we would.”

Tom Sr. gasped. “I had no idea this setup was so expensive.”

Ned laughed. “You never were one to keep an eye on the budget, were you, Tom? But I am dead serious here. If you don’t come back I will come looking for you. The world is not going to lose its collection of Swifts.”

“Thanks, Ned,” Tom Sr. said warmly. “That means a lot.”

After signing off he began giving orders to prepare for landing on Thanatos. He picked up a stack of printouts and went over them with James. “I’ve got some figures here that should do the trick,” he said. “If we set up the repelatrons along these lines it should – ”

Tom Sr. heard a sudden scream behind him. He whirled around and gasped. Standing calmly in the middle of the control room was a black metal robot with a skeletal frame. It looked exactly like that one that had confronted Tom Jr. in the observatory. Its piercing red eyes were locked on Tom Sr.

“I apologize for startling you,” it said in a polite, even voice. “I mean you no harm.”

“Nobody move,” Tom Sr. said sharply.

“There is really no cause for alarm,” the robot continued.

“What do you want?” Tom Sr. demanded.

“I am here to lend you a hand, Mr. Swift. We would like to help you rescue your son.”

“We?” Tom Sr. asked.

The robot nodded ever so slightly in the direction of the stairwell. Four other robots suddenly materialized. Tom Sr. realized that they had been using their holographic projectors to blend in to the room. “I apologize for this deception. We felt that if you knew of our presence you would not allow us to join you on your quest.”

“You guessed rightly,” Tom Sr. replied. “What do you want from us?”

“As I said, we are here to help you. Your plan for descending onto the planet is a wise one, but it will not work as it is currently formulated. It is impossible for a human to react quickly enough to keep the ship steady. Your repelatrons must be computer controlled for this venture to succeed.”

Tom Sr. was taken aback by this. “I suppose that would help, but we don’t have the time or the resources to design a system like that. It would take weeks under the best of circumstances, and these are not the best of circumstances.”

“But we could do it in a few hours. Writing software is trivial to us, Mr. Swift, and we have all the necessary hardware. If you allow us to help you we can greatly increase your chance of success.”

“And if we don’t?”

The robot nodded toward another robot in the crowd, and it stepped forward. Tom Sr. saw that it was carrying the holographic penetrator that had been stolen from his son’s lab. The robot walked up to Tom Sr., handed it to him, and then walked back to its leader.

“I apologize for stealing that marvelous invention,” the robot said. “I was afraid that you would use it to locate us, and up to this point we wished to remain unnoticed. But that time has passed, and so I return it. I trust you have an EMP emitter nearby?”

Tom Sr. looked around. “I’ve still got mine with me, sir,” James said. He reached down under the desk, picked it up, and handed it to Tom. “I was afraid we might need it,” he explained.

“Your choice is simple,” the robot continued. “We would like to help you rescue your son. If you will allow us to do that then we will lend a hand. However, if you do not trust us then you can use that emitter to destroy us. It is your choice.”

Tom Sr. was astonished. “You can’t be serious!”

“It was never our desire to see your son and his friend perish, Mr. Swift. We came from the future to save him, not to watch him die, and if we can save him now then we will. We are here for the good of all mankind. There are many things we could have done to this ship had we wished to harm you or prevent you from coming here, but we left you in peace.”

On an impulse Tom Sr. aimed the EMP emitter at one of the machines and fired. As the electromagnetic energy struck the robot it staggered backwards, and bright yellow sparks flew out of it. Tom pulled the trigger again, and the robot collapsed onto the floor. Its red eyes went dark. The four robots around it made no attempt to move or get out the way.

“You’re serious,” Tom Sr. said at last.

The lead robot nodded. “Yes.”

Tom Sr. put the EMP emitter down. “Then come lend us a hand. I appreciate your offer for help.”

“At this point I do not ask you to trust us, Mr. Swift. I only ask that you allow us to lend you a hand. How you decide to end this mission is entirely up to you.”

“So you say,” Tom Sr. said cryptically.