A murmur of amazement went up from the spectators-then cheers when they saw the flat white ribbon of highway floating in the air without visible support. The repelatron rays held it firmly at the height of a ten-story building.
“Wowl” Bud gasped to Arv Hanson. “I’d like to see Burlow Engineering or anyone else top that for a road-paving demonstration!”
The whole span was almost completed when Arv suddenly tugged Bud’s arm.
“Hey, what’s that? Part of the show?”
A small aerial platform-one of the “flying carpets,” or “repelatron donkeys,” which Tom had designed for short-haul transport work on the moon-was sailing toward the scene of the demonstration. A pudgy figure in a cowboy hat could be seen perched atop the platform.
110 REPELATRON SKYWAY
“Good grief!” Bud exclaimed. “It’s Chow!”
The cook maneuvered his flying carpet alongside and stepped boldly out onto the skyway. The crowd broke into laughing applause as Chow waved his hat and began walking across the span.
But the next moment the cheers gave way to gasps of alarm. Evidently the plastic had not fully hardened-Chow’s boots were sinking deep into the still-soft material! The spectators could see him teetering wildly, trying to extricate his legs from the gooey mass. But his frantic efforts only worsened the situation-in seconds he sank up to his knees!
“He’ll fall through!” Arv cried in horror.
“Won’t the rays hold him up?” Bud asked.
“Not a chance! The transmitters are only tuned to repel the highway material!”
“Help! Help!” Chow screamed.
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