CHAPTER XIII
DISASTER STRIKES
Tom was thunderstruck. "You didn't phone me? But, Dad, I got thecall--I definitely heard your voice!"
"That's impossible," Mr. Swift insisted. "Believe me, son, I sleptsoundly from the time I turned in until a little while ago."
There was a moment of stunned silence as both Swifts realized that thetelephone call had been faked! Then Tom exclaimed:
"Dad, this is serious!"
"Deadly serious, I agree," his father replied. "Are you calling fromyour lab?"
"Yes!"
"Stay there. I'll be right over," the elder scientist said.
When Mr. Swift arrived, Tom related his conversation with the mysteriouscaller. His father listened with worried eyes and a puzzled frown.
"It's bad enough that an enemy was able to get the information," Mr.Swift remarked. "But, potentially at least, it's even more dangerousthat he was able to imitate my voice so well. If he could fool you, Tom,he could fool anyone!"
"Are you thinking the same thing I am, Dad?"
"That it may have been some insider here at Enterprises?" When Tomnodded, his father gravely agreed. "Yes, son, it does look that way. Toimitate my voice convincingly, it would almost certainly have to besomeone who's had close contact with us--either at the plant or here inShopton."
The thought of a traitor at the experimental station was repugnant tothe Swifts and to Bud as well. Not only were all employees carefullyscreened, but there was a close, almost family relationship among thosewho took part in the exciting scientific ventures at Swift Enterprises.
Tom called Security and asked Harlan Ames to come over to the laboratoryat once. The security chief arrived within moments. Quickly Tom filledhim in on the details of the puzzling telephone call.
"Think back, skipper," Ames urged. "Was there anything at all you canremember about the voice that might give us a tip-off? I mean, was itdeep, or maybe a bit higher-pitched than you expected? Or anything aboutthe way the caller pronounced his words?"
Tom shook his head. "Nothing. That's the trouble. He spoke only a coupleof sentences, but so far as I knew, it _was_ my father calling!"
"Hmmm." Ames frowned. "What about background noises?"
Tom thought hard. "None. If I had detected any special sounds during thecall, I'm sure they would have stuck in my mind."
Ames tried another tack. He asked how many people had known about theexpected arrival of the brain energy from space. This was harder toanswer, but as Tom and his father enumerated the persons, it did help tonarrow the circle of suspects.
Besides the Swifts, Chow, Phyl, Ames, and George Dilling, there werethree groups who had had access to the information. One was the radiooperators at the space-communications laboratory. Another consisted ofArv Hanson and Hank Sterling and the workmen who had taken part inbuilding the energy container. The last group, which also included Hankand Arv, were the technicians who had actually gone to the hillside toawait the visitor from Planet X.
Tom scowled. "None of those people would pull such a trick, Harlan--anymore than the ones like you and Arv and Hank who are above suspicion.Most of them could have easily obtained the news without going throughsuch a rigmarole."
Mr. Swift nodded. "Tom's right. Unless, of course, they had some urgentreason for wanting to find out as soon as possible."
"Which makes me think it may have been an outsider after all," Tomargued. "Remember, the Brungarians may have intercepted the codemessages to or from our space friends." After a moment's silence, headded gloomily, "Whoever the caller was, he knew the energy wasarriving. And now he knows it's here!"
Bud interjected, "Well, if he was a Brungarian agent and he's hoping tosteal the brain energy, one thing's sure. No earthquake will demolishthis place as long as the energy is here at Enterprises."
"A comforting thought, Bud," Mr. Swift commented with a wry smile.
Again Tom frowned. "At any rate, Harlan, see if you can get a line onthat impostor."
Ames departed to begin a thorough check of all personnel at the plantwho might have been implicated. Bud went on an errand, as Tom beganshowing his father the accomplishments of the space robot.
"We've christened him Exman," Tom said.
By means of the electronic brain, he made the visitor do a number ofmaneuvers in response to orders.
"Wonderful!" Mr. Swift exclaimed, greatly impressed. "Let's see if hecan use his caterpillar treads as well as he does the wheels."
Tom brought a small flight of portable aluminum stairs which he used forreaching up on high shelves or tinkering with outsized machines. Tom wasuncertain at first how to code the command, having no symbol for stepsor stairs. Finally he moved Exman to the bottom of the steps andsignaled simply: _Go up!_
Exman paused for a moment, then attempted the ascent. His caterpillartracks clawed their way up the first step. Then, gingerly, he essayedthe next. The robot body tilted, but its gyro kept it from topplingover.
"Bravo!" Mr. Swift applauded encouragingly. But the next instant Exmangave up! He slid back to the floor again with a heavy bump. Then hebegan whirling and darting about madly.
"Good night! Exman's gone berserk!" Tom cried.
Now wafts of smoke could be seen issuing from the robot's wheels. He wasbanging wildly about the laboratory, leaving a trail of havoc.
Bud, who had returned, opened the door to come in. Instantly Exmanlunged toward him, antennas sparking fiercely and wheels smoking. Budslammed the door hastily.
The Swifts, too, found it wiser to take cover. They crouched behind alab workbench until the frenzy was over. Presently Exman subsided androlled to a complete standstill.
"Good grief!" Tom stood up cautiously and eyed the creature. It made nofurther move. Bud poked his head through the doorway for a wary look,then re-entered the laboratory.
"What made him blow his top?" Bud asked.
Then Tom heard a quiet chuckle from his father. "Actually, boys," theelder scientist said, "I think we should be encouraged."
"_Encouraged?_" Tom stared at his father.
[Illustration (Tom Jr. and Tom Sr. watch as Exman tries to climb stairs)]
Mr. Swift nodded. "Yes, the whole thing was rather a noteworthyreaction. I believe Exman was displaying a fear complex about navigatingup those stairs."
Tom gasped, then broke out laughing. "Dad, you're right! I'll bet whenits body tilted over, the brain wasn't sure whether the gyro would keepit from being wrecked. It just shows Ole Think Box is getting more humanall the time!"
Bud ventured to pat Exman on its "back." "Relax, kid," he said with achuckle. "You're among friends and we wouldn't dream of letting you gethurt. You're too valuable!"
Mr. Swift stroked his jaw thoughtfully. "Valuable, yes, if we can onlyget it to communicate. Tom, I believe the first project we should workon is a way to make Exman talk."
After the debris had been cleaned up, the two scientists pulled upstools to the workbench and began to discuss the problem. Bud, seeingthem absorbed, and realizing the discussion would soon be far beyond hisdepth, snapped a grinning salute at Exman and quietly left thelaboratory.
"Dad, the toughest part won't be the speech mechanism itself," Tompointed out. "There are several ways we could handle that--by modulatinga column of air, for instance, or by some sort of speaker diaphragm. Thereal stumper will be how to teach him our spoken language."
Mr. Swift nodded. "I'm afraid you're right. If the inhabitants of PlanetX communicate telepathically, or by some sort of wave transfer, they mayhave long since forgotten any concept of a spoken language."
The Swifts batted several ideas back and forth. Then Tom snapped hisfingers.
"Wait, Dad! We have the answer! The electronic brain!"
Mr. Swift's eyes lighted up. "Of course! The machine already translatesthe space code into written English. All we need do is add a device toconvert the machine's impulses into sound!"
In two hours the Swifts had put together a mechanism designed to
workthrough a tape recorder. This was hooked up to the electronic brain.
After recording for several moments, Tom reversed the tape and switchedon the playback. A squeaky jumble of noises could be heard. But one wordseemed to come through fairly distinctly. "Universe!"
"It's talking!" Tom cried out.
"Trying to, but not succeeding very well," Mr. Swift said.
Nevertheless, the two scientists were jubilant at this firstbreakthrough. Eagerly they began making adjustments--both on theelectronic-brain hookup and the converter mechanism. Tom was just aboutto switch on the tape recorder again when the telephone rang.
The young inventor was annoyed at being interrupted at such a crucialmoment, but picked up the phone. "Tom Swift Jr. speaking."
"You have an urgent call from Washington," the operator informed him."Just a moment, please."
Bernt Ahlgren was calling from the Pentagon. The defense expert's voicewas strained.
"Tom, there's just been another attempt to cause an earthquake here inWashington!"
Tom gasped. "What happened?"
"It failed, thanks to you. But Intelligence believes an attempt will bemade on New York City very soon. We need your help to stop it. How nearcompletion are the other shock deflectors?"
Before Tom could answer, he heard excited voices at the other end of theline. Then Ahlgren broke in again abruptly.
"A news flash, Tom! The Walling range-finder plant has been demolishedby an earthquake!"