All eyes were glued to the megascope screen. Outwardly, the Astro-Meteor seemed perfectly shipshape and spaceworthy as it sped farther and farther away from the earth. Then, gradually, as Tom noticed its flight attitude shift on the screen, he realized it was veering off course.
“Dad! The ship’s stopped its probe!” Tom gasped. “It’s going into orbit!”
Mr. Swift had already realized this. Before he could answer, Chippy Holbrook’s voice came over the radio, strident with alarm: “Mayday! … Mayday! … Something’s gone wrong with the controls! I-I can’t bring us back on course!”
Tom seized the microphone. “Tom Swift to Meteor! … Let me speak to Bud Barclay!”
“N-no! That’s impossible!” Holbrook stammered back. “He’s too ill!”
162 MEGASCOPE SPACE PROBER
“You heard me, Holbrook!” Tom snapped. “Let me speak to Bud!”
There was a long pause. Then Bud’s voice came through, sounding weak and faint.
“Rescue us, Tom! … Please rescue us!”
The young inventor needed no more. “Roger! Wilco, Bud! Keep your chin up!” Tom switched off the mike and said tersely. “How about it, Dad?”
Mr. Swift could not refuse. “Go ahead, son. But first, check with Astro-Dynamics.”
“Good idea.” Tom flicked on the videophone and called their Key West telecaster. “Kane, please get John Clarke and Arnold Franklin. Tell them it’s urgent that I speak to them at once!”
“Will do, skipper!” Kane’s voice faded as he turned to snap an order to one of his crew.
People could be seen milling excitedly about the launching area. Evidently word had already flashed through the crowd that the Venus probe was in trouble.
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