Mr. Swift chuckled. “When you put it that way, my dear, how can I refuse? . .
. Anyhow, son,
THE GODDESS OF DOOM 57
this Mars rocket project is my responsibility, too, and I can wind up my bionics experiments soon. So the answer is Yes.”
Mrs. Swift readily gave permission for the trip, then Sandy telephoned Phyllis Newton. Phyl at once consulted her parents, and the Newtons, too, gave their consent.
Next day, at the experimental station, Tom explained the trip to Harlan Ames and added, “Spending a week with those trainees may give me a chance to spot the real spy. What’s more, that Snowman message indicates to me that the rocket ship is based in the Himalayas. Touring Vishnapur, I may be able to pick up a real lead!”
Ames agreed but warned, “The whole Himalayan frontier is an international trouble spot, skipper. So watch your step.”
Tom promised to be cautious on any flights over the rugged mountain chain.
The next few days were spent in frenzied activity. Tom worked long hours and twice slept overnight at the plant. But after a restful weekend, he was fresh and eager for the trip.
Late Sunday evening the Sky Queen took off. Included in Tom’s party were Chow and several crewmen. Prince Jahan and the other trainees were delighted at the chance to ride in the huge, atomic-powered Flying Lab.
“I have to stop off in Bombay on some company business,” Tom told Jahan as they streaked across
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the moonlit Atlantic into the westward-sweeping dawn. “Perhaps you and some of the other students would escort the girls around the city while Bud and I do our errand.”
“We shall be delighted to do so!” Jahan said.
After the prince had left the flight compartment, Bud asked, “What’s this errand?”
“Remember Mr. Singh telling us that he gets all his Indian and Vishnapurian goods from Mukerji and Sons in Bombay?” When Bud nodded, Tom continued.
“I’d like to visit that outfit and see if we can pick up any clues on how those spy messages were transmitted.”
“Smart ideal Let’s give it a try.”
At supersonic speed the flight took just over three hours. It was midmorning in Bombay as the plane swooped down over the mud-brown Arabian Sea. They landed at Santa Cruz Airport on the outskirts of India’s bustling west coast metropolis.
After clearing customs, Tom inquired about the firm’s address, which was on Dadhabai Naoroji Road near the waterfront. He and Bud took a taxi into the city.
“Did you notice Rakshi putting on that big-shot act for the girls?” Bud grumbled as they sped along a wide, modern expressway.
Tom grinned. “Relax, pal. They’ll be too busy seeing the sights to fall for his line.”
Part of the route into the city led through grimy THE GODDESS OF DOOM 59
factory and tenement districts. When they approached the heart of Bombay’s business section, however, the boys were thrilled by its skyline of office buildings and modern, glass-tiered apartments along the wide palm-fringed avenues. Red double-decker buses and sleek sports cars jockeyed their way through the heavy traffic.
The taxi stopped at a building labeled mukerji and sons. The establishment seemed to be both a store and a warehouse. Entering, Tom and Bud walked up to a counter heaped with merchandise. A babu, or clerk, in a high-collared white coat and a dhoti came fonvard.
“May I help you, sirs?”
Tom pretended they were tourists on a shopping tour of Bombay. He chatted with the clerk and mentioned the import shop in New York. “Mr. Singh told us he obtains his goods from your firm,” Tom went on, “so we thought we’d stop in and look around.”
A stout man in a business suit had come out from the stacked aisles behind the counter. He beamed at the boys. “Mr. Singh is a good customer of ours. I am most happy to have you visit us. Permit me to introduce myself-Ved Mukerji, the present owner of this firm.”
Tom introduced Bud and added, “I’m Tom Swift.”
“Not the famous young inventor?” Mr. Mukerji exclaimed. “This is indeed an honor!”
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The stout man insisted upon showing the two boys over his entire establishment. The back of the building was used as warehouse space. On the upper floor, clerks were busy checking goods from all over Asia, while in the office three young Indian women, clad in graceful flowing saris, were engaged in filing and typing. Tom found it hard to believe that any of the three could be connected with the spy plot.
Before leaving, Tom bought several shawls from Kashmir and some silver cuff links as take-home gifts. Bud plucked a curious-looking pin off the counter.
“I’ll bet Sandy would go for thisl”
The pin was of black onyx carved in the likeness of a four-armed woman wearing a necklace of skulls. Her eyes were tiny red rubies.
Tom grinned. “Unusual-but a bit gruesome.”
“Nahin! he mat chhuo-No! Do not touch this!” The clerk darted forward and tried to take the pin, but Bud held on to it. “What’s the matter? Isn’t it for sale?”
“Certainly you may buy it,” said Mr. Mukerji. He spoke sharply in Hindi to the clerk, then turned back to the boys. “The pin arrived in a shipment from Vishnapur, and Chandra here-my chief clerk-rudely wished to keep it for himself.”
Bud offered to forego the purchase, but Mr. Mukerji insisted he take the pin and named a low
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price. “The carved figure is Kali, the Hindu goddess of death,” Mr. Mukerji explained. “My clerk may have feared the pin would bring you bad luck. No doubt that was the true reason for his concern-was it not, Chandra?” The clerk shrugged sullenly.
After leaving, Tom and Bud taxied along the scenic Marine Drive, then up past beautiful hanging gardens to the top of Malabar Hill. With Chowpatty Beach spread out below, the boys had a breath-taking view of the seaside city.
It was now almost noon, so the boys had the tax-iman take them to the Taj Mahal Hotel overlooking the water, where they were to meet the others for lunch.
Nearby stood an imposing arch which the driver said was called the Gateway to India.
Tom and Bud waited in the hotel lounge. The two girls soon arrived, escorted by Prince Jahan and three other young engineers from Vishnapur, including Rakshi. Sandy was delighted with the Kali pin, but Rakshi gave Bud an angry glare.
“It is not at all a becoming pin for a beautiful American girl to wear,” he muttered.
“I think it’s wonderful!” Sandy said, pinning it to her dress.
Over lunch, the girls told how they had watched an Indian movie scene being filmed.
“We found out that Bombay produces even more motion pictures than Hollywood does,” Phyl added.
THE GODDESS OF DOOM 63
Suddenly Tom’s pencil radio buzzed. It was a call from the Sky Queen. The plane’s radioman reported that the American consulate wanted Tom, Bud, and the whole group of Enterprises trainees to pay a good-will visit to a technical school in Bombay at two o’clock that afternoon. Reporters and news photographers would be on hand.
Tom groaned. “I suppose word of our arrival leaked out at the airport.”
Jahan’s eyes twinkled. “As a prince I am not bound by the usual rules, Tom.
So please extend my regrets and say that I had a prior engagement-as guide for two young ladies.”
The girls were delighted to have company for the afternoon.
“Let’s visit those cave temples at Elephanta we’ve heard so much about,”
Phyl suggested.
Sandy and the prince readily agreed. After saying good-by to Tom and the others, the trio taxied to the ferry landing where they boarded a motor launch for the island of Elephanta, six miles across the harbor.
The beautiful little island had two long hills with a valley between. Picnickers were lounging among the trees. The girls and Prince Jahan accompanied other tourists from the landing stage to the main cave, Ganesh Gupha. It had been excavated in a terrace of rock. Wide steps, flanked by stone elephants, led up to the temple entrance.
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Inside, Sandy and Phyl were struck with awe by the huge sculptures of Indian gods and goddesses. Most imposing of all was the Trimurti-a three-headed figure of Siva, Vishnu, and Brahma, carved from living rock.
“It’s almost spooky!” Phyl murmured.
Other sightseers were milling about as they came out of the temple.
Suddenly Sandy gave a little scream. “That man! … He snatched my Kali pin!”
She pointed to a turbaned, bearded figure dashing down the temple steps.
Prince Jahan darted in pursuit, as the thief fled among the trees and up the hillside. He was poorly dressed in a ragged, high-collared achkan and dhoti.
Cresting the hill, he headed down toward the opposite shore of the island. Jahan was twenty yards behind.