Appleton, Victor – Tom Swift Jr 03 – And His Rocket Ship

He edged close to his boss and at once began to ask questions.

“Tom, when will that there kicker cut in?” he began.

“It’s set to go into action at an altitude of forty-one miles,” Tom replied.

“Forty-one!” Chow exclaimed. “Brand my nightmares, why do you wait so long?”

“Well, below forty-one miles there just isn’t enough sunshine, Chow.”

The cook heaved a great sigh. “Well, you should THE ROCKET LAUNCHING 57

have gone down to Texas then. There ain’t no place where there’s more sunshine than Texas,” he said.

Hank Sterling moved to the public-address-system microphone and looked at his watch which had been synchronized with Tom’s.

“All personnel leave the launching area at once!” his voice boomed. “X minus two minutes!”

Two mechanics ran for cover. The area was deserted. In the control office, Harlan Ames flicked the interceptor switch to neutralize the drones.

“X minus one minute!” Hank Sterling announced.

Every crewman on the tracking level crouched at his post as the seconds ticked toward zero. Electric movie cameras at several points were grinding the dramatic takeoff footage. The men who were to operate the radar plotting equipment nervously tested the points of the pen recorders.

Tom stood as rigid as a statue. In one minute he would know whether the tape recorder would set the machinery in motion to send the rocket on its space journey.

“X minus twenty seconds!” Hank’s voice was tense.

Tom gripped the railing of the platform, his eyes fixed on the poised rocket.

“X minus one!”

A multicolored cloud of gases burst from the takeoff motors and the giant rocket ship lifted itself clear of the ground. The fiery explosions shook the island.