“By yesterday.” Tom grinned. “But don’t break your neck, Arv. We’ll work on this together.”
The design of the space kite was beautifully simple. The pilot and copilot, with their control board, would be enclosed in the front part by a plain transparent plastic dome. Behind their seats, the dome was partitioned off by the flat 28 COSMIC ASTRONAUTS
“screen layers” of Tom’s cosmic reactor-the device for converting cosmic radiation into motive power.
From the center of the reactor, a cone protruded out behind like a stubby comet’s tail. This was to be the directional-aiming cone of the gravitex.
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29
“I’ll get to work on this at once,” Arv promised.
He began machining the metal parts from lightweight magnesium alloy. Tom, meanwhile, shaped the glittering nose dome out of transparent plastic on a molding press. Within hours, the finished model of the space kite was hanging from the ceiling of the laboratory. It had three slender, graceful landing supports.
“Prettiest thing I’ve worked on in months,” Arv declared as he paused to admire the result.
At that moment the outer door of the laboratory swung open. A food cart was rolled in by Chow Winkler, a plump, former-chuck-wagon cook. He 30 COSMIC ASTRONAUTS
was now chef on all Enterprises expeditions, and served meals to the Swifts whenever they were working in the laboratory.
“Soup’s on, buckaroos!” he boomed cheerfully. The Texan wore a green-andred shirt, cowboy boots, and a white ten-gallon hat. It was pulled so low over his eyes that it prevented him from seeing the suspended space-kite model.