He drew out a tiny pocket transmitter. “I don’t dare leave this off any longer. We’ll stand up in plain sight of the window. I’ll be covering you with my gun, as though I’ve just managed to subdue you after a struggle. Then I’ll start pumping you for secret information. Make your answers sound good.”
“Okay. Do you know anything about science?”
THE MIDNIGHT VISITOR 117
“Very little,” Warturo answered.
“I’m sure,” said Tom, “that the reason you were sent here was to test your loyalty to Jantree, not to get any secrets from me. The Brungarians would know, even under the threat of death, I wouldn’t tell anything vital. Well, here goes. I’ll cover up for you with something that makes sense.”
Warturo flicked on the radio and slipped it back into his pocket. He and Tom got to their feet, with Warturo holding his gun in the young inventor’s ribs.
“Okay, Swift,” he snarled. “Now give me the answers!” His voice had assumed a heavy accent.
“Wh-what do you want to know?” Tom replied in a husky, frightened tone.
“That new spaceship of yours-how does it work?”
“I’ve developed a new meson engine, working on a system of pion propulsion. The power transmission depends upon a reflex baffle chamber.”
“Have you tested the ship?” Warturo went on.
Tom pretended to hesitate. “N-no-not exactly. You see, it’s not really perfected yet.”
“Come on, quit stalling!” Warturo growled. “We know different, so tell the truth.”
“All right, I-I admit we’ve flown it once or twice. But not beyond the atmosphere. Some bugs showed up.”