Tom was eager to run the final tests on his new midget power plant. Now that his atomicar was ready for public presentation, the only step re-CAPSULE EXPLOSION 27
maining was to install the atomic power capsule -provided it checked out satisfactorily.
“A big if!” Tom thought wryly.
A steel-and-concrete booth, radiation-shielded by Mr. Swift’s amazing plastic, called Tomasite, had been built in one corner of the laboratory. A special exhaust system was provided to dispose of dangerous atomic vapors. The booth also had a quartz-glass window and outside control panel. Inside, mounted on a test stand, lay the power capsule-about the size of an ordinary automobile battery but far lighter in weight.
Tom was just completing the electrical hookup when an alarm bell clanged.
He jerked to attention. “The main radar alarm!”
Flicking on the radarscope, he saw a blip of light moving in a rapid curve about the center of the screen-evidently an aircraft!
Tom snatched up the wall phone and dialed the control tower. “What’s going on out there?”
“A small jet’s circling the plant,” the tower operator reported. “The pilot requests permission to land. Says his name is Simon Wayne.”
“What’s his business?” Tom asked.
“He claims he wants to see you personally on an important matter.”
Tom hesitated. “Okay. Set him down.”
Tom left his glass-walled lab and went outside. He shaded his eyes as he looked skyward. A sleek jet, bearing a red-and-black insigne, came whis-28 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
tling down onto one of the concrete runways. Tom hopped into a jeep and sped out to meet it.
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122