“What about the missile’s zigzag motion?”
“That’s not so much of a problem as I thought, Dad. In generating the field, we were producing pulses instead of delivering a steady output, but I can fix that with a bit more work on the filter circuits.”
“Very good. Then you think your machine can handle our government assignment?” Mr. Swift asked.
Tom nodded eagerly. “With a larger, more powerful model, I’m sure I can bring back the Mars probe rocket. And I’d like to design a special 50 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
spacecraft to carry the machine. After we wind up this project, the government can use it for regular space salvage work.”
Tom sketched his ideas for the vehicle.
Mr. Swift was enthusiastic. “Get right to work on it Monday,” he advised.
“Uncle Ned can iron out the contract details with the government space agency.”
On Monday morning, however, Tom received an urgent call from Harlan Ames. “The police have found that clerk from the import shop,” the security chief told him.
“Benny Susak?” Tom asked excitedly.
“Right. But his capture may not help us much. He was hit by a car and so far hasn’t been able to answer any questions.”
Ames explained that a policeman had spotted a man trying to break into the shop the night before. The officer had gone after the intruder, who had fled despite a warning shot fired over his head. The man had darted across the street in front of a moving car and been struck down.
“He was rushed to a hospital,” Ames went on, “and later the police identified him as Susak. He’s in critical condition, so if we hope to talk to him we’d better get over there fast.”
Tom and Ames took off for New York City, and after landing, taxied to the hospital. A police lieutenant met them outside Susak’s room.
“You got here at just the right time,” Lieuten-THE SAFFRON CLUE 51
ant Murchison said. “Susak looks as if he’s coming to.”
They found the young man, swathed in bandages, moaning slightly. A doctor and a nurse stood at his bedside.
Presently Susak’s lips moved, but only a faint, mumbling sound came from them. Tom thought he caught the word “saffron” several times.
“That was it, all right-saffron,” Lieutenant Murchison agreed. “But what’s he trying to say?”
The injured man’s face bore a desperate look and perspiration beaded his forehead. A few minutes later he lapsed into unconsciousness. The doctor checked Susak’s pulse and examined his eyes, then looked up with a shrug.
“I’m afraid that’s all you’re likely to get out of him, gentlemen. He’s in a deep coma.”
As Tom left the room with Ames and Murchison, he was frowning. “I have a hunch Susak went back to the shop to get something vitally important-something that might incriminate him even worse or give away the whole plot.”
“Why wait three days to go after it?” Ames objected. “He made his getaway Thursday.”
“I think I can explain the time lapse,” the officer put in. “The owner, Lai Singh, lives in back of the shop. Susak probably didn’t dare break in while Singh was on the premises. But last night he was out.”
Ames nodded. “What about ‘saffron’?”
52 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
“Saffron’s used in East Indian cooking,” Tom said. “I tasted it in a dessert when we had dinner at Prince Jahan’s. There’s probably some in the shop and it may be connected with whatever Susak was mumbling about.”
“Let’s check it out,” Lieutenant Murchison said.
All three drove to the import shop in the police officer’s car. Mr. Singh had just opened the store.
“Saffron?” the elderly shopkeeper murmured. “Yes, we carry that.” He seemed puzzled, but led the way to the shelves at the rear and pointed to an array of jars and small baled packages of the yellow substance.
“May we examine your stock?” Tom asked.
“By all meansl” Singh gestured politely.
Tom ferreted among the containers. A moment later he gave a cry of triumph and pulled out a notebook from behind the jars.
“This yours?” Murchison asked the shopkeeper.
“No, no.” Singh seemed to be amazed. “My clerk Susak kept the shelves filled. He must have placed it there.”
The three examined the notebook eagerly.
“You really struck gold, skipper!” Ames exclaimed. “This is a code book!”
Its pages bore lists of merchandise items and business phrases with a code meaning for each. The book also contained instructions for invisible-THE SAFFRON CLUE 53
ink messages on invoices, purchase orders, and bills of lading.
Two slips of paper were tucked in the back of the notebook-apparently copies of recent messages, jotted down by Susak. One ordered the clerk to frame Prince Jahan by planting a fake note in the hollow bronze Buddha, which Susak was to wrap up with the prince’s next purchase. The other message read: SWIFTS TO RETRIEVE MARS ROCKET. TS WORKING ON NEW
INVENTION TO DO THIS. WARN HIMALAYAS HE WILL” ALSO USE IT TO
CAPTURE SHIP IF SIGHTED.
SNOWMAN
Tom, Ames, and Lieutenant Murchison hurried to police headquarters to go over the book more carefully.
” ‘Snowman’ must be a code name of the spy at Enterprises,” Ames deduced. “Maybe Rakshi! Tom, could he have been eavesdropping outside your lab when the lookout spotted him?”
“He may have been trying to with a pocket receiver-but the bug was already switched off,” Tom replied. “Anyhow, there was an announcement about the rocket over the noon newscasts that day. And within an hour word got all over Enterprises that I was going to adapt my new invention for the retrieval job.”
54 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
“What about the warning that you’ll use your invention ‘to capture ship if sighted’?” Ames asked. “I take it that refers to the rocket ship that crashed into the space outpost?”
Tom nodded. “I’m afraid there was talk around the plant about that, too. But this proves there is a spy at Enterprises-probably among the trainees!”
Ames informed Tom that the Vishnapurians were being kept under close watch. Lieutenant Murchison suggested that all the records and correspondence at Singh’s shop be checked to see if any earlier code messages could be found.
“Good idea,” Ames said.
As Tom flew back to Shopton, he kept turning the mystery over and over in his mind. What was behind the sinister spy plot? And how did the weird yellow rocket ship tie in?
That afternoon, as Tom was busy in his lab, he had an unexpected visitor-Prince Jahan.
“I have been completely cleared, thanks to you, my friendl” Jahan announced joyfully. “And now there is one more favor I wish to ask. You and Bud, and Sandy and Phyl, must cancel all your plans, starting a week from today.”
“How come?” Tom asked with a surprised grin.
“Because you will be flying to Vishnapur with me and my fellow students-as palace guests for the great summer Festival of Chogyal!”
CHAPTER VII
THE GODDESS OF DOOM
TOM was taken aback by the unexpected invitation. “That sounds great,” he said. “But I’m afraid I won’t be able to get away.”
Jahan’s handsome face clouded. “You must, Tom!” he pleaded. “Now that you have lifted the shadow of suspicion from my head, my friends and I have made special plans to return home and celebrate! Can you not take a short vacation and join us?”
“But Vishnapur’s halfway around the world. And honestly, Jahan, this Mars rocket job may-”
Suddenly the young inventor paused as a thought came to him. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “How long does the festival last?”
“For a week everyone in Vishnapur does homage to Chogyal with dancing, feasting, and merrymaking,” Jahan replied. “A week you will never forget! …
Please come, Tom.”
55
56 POLAR-RAY DYNASPHERE
“Okay-gladly-if I can arrange things with my father. And if Bud and the girls agree to go.”
Jahan beamed. “I shall count on you all!”
When Bud heard the news he eagerly accepted. That evening Tom broached the matter to his father.
“The technical problems connected with my rocket retriever are all licked now,” the young inventor reported. “Our spacecraft to carry the machine will be a cinch. Its repelatron drive will be the same as the propulsion system in the Challenger-in fact simpler, since the ship itself will be much smaller.”
“The basic conformation is all worked out?”
“Right, Dad. I can start mocking-up the fuselage tomorrow with Arv, and I’ll ask Hank to assign the systems engineers. Art Wiltessa can follow through on my static-field device.”
Mr. Swift considered a moment. “Then you can have the project well under way by the end of the week?”
Tom nodded eagerly. “Yes, but it will need supervision while I’m gone-if I go, that is. Could you possibly find time to handle it?”
Sandy, who was perched on the arm of her father’s easy chair, wheedled, “Just think-we’re invited as palace guests! A chance of a lifetime to enjoy a week of Oriental luxury!”