Tom Swift and the Asteroid Pirates Read Online Free PDF Page B

Nestria? "
CANT DO ALL YOUR WORK FOR YOU
NOT PAID ENOUGH
DOING OUR PART TO KEEP TAXES LOW
    The young inventor was annoyed by the response. " This is no time to play games! "
DEPENDS ON THE GAME
    Tom flicked off the unit with a sharp movement. "I’m not willing to wait any longer, Bud. Cobra or no, I’m taking the Challenger up to Little Luna to see what’s going on!"
    Bud cheered. "I’m with ya, Skipper!"
    Tom made a call to Fearing Island and spoke to Amos Quezada, chief ground controller of space missions. "What’s the latest from space? Any luck yet contacting Nestria?"
    "None. The blackout’s as solid as ever."
    "Nothing new from Horton at the outpost?"
    "Afraid not."
    "Well, tell him to keep trying. I’m taking off for the asteroid as soon as I can get to Fearing."
    "I can save you some time," Quezada offered. "Hannah Morgensteiff is up in orbit in the Challenger right now—your Dad’s survey flight. I could have her dip down above Shopton, and you could have one of your choppers drop you off."
    "That’s a great idea. Let’s put it together."
    Little more than an hour later, Enterprises pilot Slim Davis soared into the afternoon sky in the SwiftStorm , Tom’s wingless ultrasonic cycloplane. His passengers were Tom, Bud, and Enterprises’ chief engineer Hank Sterling, all of them suited-up for space flight.
    As the craft’s furiously whirling lift-cylinders carried them vertically into the upper stratosphere, Tom explained his plans to his comrades. "According to Hannah’s radio report, the Challenger crew didn’t detect anything dangerous around Nestria. Just the spherical interference zone."
    "No orbiting radioactive byproducts from the explosion?" inquired Hank.
    "None detectible, thank goodness."
    Bud was skeptical. "Fine. But then just what is that ‘spherical interference zone’, anyway? Maybe it’s like a tripwire, guys! We cross it and Blackie shoots a missile at us."
    Tom smiled half-heartedly. "Can’t rule it out, I guess. But unlike the drone rocket, we have a whole bunch of neat gadgets called repelatrons . Anything nosing too close’ll get tossed back into space."
    "Well, we had repelatrons in the XAIP, too," Bud persisted. "That explosion fouled them up, remember?"
    "We’ve readjusted the telespectrometers to protect them from the EMP effect, now that we understand what happened," explained Hank. "And if you’re worried about that anti-energy powder, the crystal stuff Li shot at us from his ship that time we were headed for the outpost ― "
    "—which, by the way , knocked out the re-pelatrons! ― " Bud interjected sarcastically.
    "— don’t worry. Great minds have figured out how to get around the refraction effect," concluded Sterling. Bud snorted.
    It was Slim Davis who spoke next. "Got the Chall up above on radar, boys. I’ll let the cybertron set us down on the landing deck."
    The SwiftStorm ’s robot brain brought the craft even with the flat vehicular deck that extended like a porch from the front of the huge, multistory spaceship. The cycloplane gently touched the deck and a conveyor-belt system drew it forward into the open portal of the Challenger ’s hangar-hold, which was then pressurized.
    "Best luck, guys," Slim called out as his three passengers disembarked. "Here’s hoping you don’t need it."
    "Seems like we always need it," said Tom with grim irony.
    In minutes the gyroscope-shaped spacecraft was zooming up to the edge of the atmosphere—and on into space, its bank of powerful repulsion-ray generators pointing earthward.
    "It won’t be long at constant 1-G," Hannah Morgensteiff, at the control board, said to Tom.
    In response the young space pioneer nodded tensely. "I’m going to feel every minute, believe me." He picked up a microphone and intercommed Hank Sterling in the main communications compartment. "Got anything for me, Hank?"
    "Not so far, Skipper," was the reply. "But as you say, we just might start to pick up a signal from close range. I’m