And His 3-D Telejector, page 9
part #24 of Tom Swift Jr Series
"Stop!" Horst blurted. "You don't have to go on - I realize you've got the goods on me!"
Tom switched off the telejector and Ames said with relish, "For your information, Horst, we're turning this video tape over to the police."
"No! Please!" The engineer begged. "There's no need for that! I'll be ruined!"
"Not only ruined," Ames said. "You'll spend the next few years in prison for blackmail."
Horst looked as if he were about to collapse. "Can't we make a deal?" He whined. "I'll do anything!"
Ames began to question him about Flamm and Sturko and the disease plot. Horst vigorously denied knowing anything about them and sounded as if he were telling the truth.
After a conference with Tom, Ames told Horst they would not press charges provided he signed a full confession and handed over the negative and all prints of the blackmail photograph. Horst eagerly agreed and produced the negative and several prints from his zippered case. Then a stenographer was called in to take down his confession.
After Horst had slunk out of the office, Fosburg turned to Tom. "I'm sorry for what happened. I hope you won't hold it against me."
"Without your help," Tom said, "we never would have turned the tables on Horst."
"Thanks." The company president shook hands with the young inventor. "Incidentally, I'd like to congratulate you on your 3-D television. It's one of the greatest feats of electronic engineering I've ever seen. When you're ready to market your TV, I hope you'll consider licensing Teletron to produce the set."
"A license will be available to all manufacturers," Tom told him. "As a matter of fact, Enterprises will be sending out a publicity release on my invention very soon."
Minutes later, Tom and Ames were jetting back to Enterprises. Bud, who had already heard of the blackmail plot, came running out to meet them as they landed. He roared with glee when he heard how they had cornered Horst.
"Boy, I wish I'd been there to see his face!"
"I hope I never see it again," Tom declared.
The young inventor was anxious to check the condition of Felix Wong and Arv Hanson, so Bud drove him to the infirmary. A nurse informed the two boys that Doc Simpson was conducting experiments with Pedro Uzcudun. Tom and Bud took the elevator to the top floor and found the medic just removing the EEG electrodes from Uzcudun's scalp. Both looked disappointed.
"Any luck?" Tom inquired.
Doc Simpson shook his head. "Not yet. Pete thought he was on the verge of picking up something, but we weren't able to get any results."
Uzcudun got up from his chair glumly. "You know, amigo, I fear this location may be part of the trouble. I am used to being alone and up in high places while I tend my flock. The sky there seems so close. Perhaps here, I shall never be able to receive any messages."
Tom mulled this over, then asked Pete, "How would you like to bunk out by yourself for a while in a cabin up on a hill?"
The Basque shepherd's face brightened. "A fine idea, I think! Is it possible?"
"Sure thing." Tom turned to Bud. "Remember that shack at the foot of the hill where we waited for the brain energy from Planet X?"
Bud grinned. "How could I forget old Exman!"
"Okay, here's a hurry-up job. Get a work crew and erect a house trailer on the hilltop. Install this electroencephalograph in it. And run a phone extension line up from the old shack."
Bud saluted. "Can do, boss! We'll have it ready before we knock off this evening!"
As Bud left, Tom asked about Felix and Arv.
"No improvement," Doc reported, his face grave. "Their fever was slightly higher last time I checked, and both are still in a coma."
Worried, Tom went to his lab and resumed work on the camera gear for the probe robots. About five o'clock Ames came into the laboratory. Tom was intent on the electron lenses he was constructing, but when he glanced up, he could tell by Ames's expression that something was wrong.
"Trouble?" Tom asked tersely.
"More blueprints are missing - and they weren't mislaid. They're plans for some of your most important inventions." Tom started to break in with a question, but Ames went on, "Yes, no need to ask - it's an inside job, skipper. Someone at Enterprises is working for your enemy."
Tom was shocked by the news. "Any leads?"
"Not yet, but don't start worrying. Leave that to me. You have enough on your mind."
Tom's jaw tightened. "Okay. Anything else?"
"We got a line on Mulver, but it's not much help. He lived over in Carterton."
"Hasn't he gone back there?"
Ames shook his head. "No, his sister says he never returned from Shopton. But she got a mysterious card from him Saturday, postmarked New York with no return address."
"What did it say?" Tom asked, intrigued.
"That he had landed a big job and she might not hear from him for a while. No details."
Tom frowned. "Somehow I don't like the sound of that, Harlan."
"Neither do I."
Tom's evening meal was a bowl of soup urged on him by Chow. The young inventor worked for several hours more, trying to make up for the time he had lost because of Horst. When he finally went home, Mrs. Swift prepared a tasty snack for him. Then she and Sandy sat in the living room with Tom, listening to the late TV news.
They were startled as the announcer ended the newscast by saying, "According to a report just received, the famous young inventor, Tom Swift Jr., Has developed a new three-dimensional television system. No details are available, but knowing Tom Swift, we predict the TV world is in for a revolutionary surprise!"
"I thought it was still to be a deep, dark secret, Tom!" Sandy exclaimed.
"So did I," her brother said ruefully. He wondered whether the news leak had come from Horst, Fosburg, or someone at Enterprises.
The phone rang. Tom answered it.
"This is Pete Uzcudun, Tom," said an excited voice. "Moving up on this hill has turned the trick! Already I'm picking up something!"
"Call Doc! We'll be right with you!" Tom exclaimed. Pulling on his jacket, he dashed outside. Tom had purposely driven an atomicar home from the plant in case of a call from the shepherd. He slid behind the wheel, closed the transparent canopy, and zoomed aloft.
In minutes Tom landed on the hilltop near the trailer. Doc Simpson came swooping down in another atomicar. Uzcudun had dragged a comfortable chair outdoors and the portable EEG machine stood just inside the doorway. Doc attached the electrodes and Pete settled back to gaze up at the starry night sky.
"The Orb... The Green Orb," he muttered tensely. "The plot against Tom Swift... Is succeeding. . . . More trouble tonight."
Suddenly Doc Simpson gasped and grabbed Tom's arm. "Look, skipper!" He pointed toward Swift Enterprises, visible in the distance below. Orange flame and billowing smoke were shooting up from inside the experimental station!
CHAPTER XVI
THE GRIZZLY CLUE
TOM stared in dismay at the plant fire. "Come on, Doc!" He cried. "We may be needed!"
Without waiting for the medic to detach the EEG electrodes, Tom climbed into his atomicar and streaked toward Enterprises.
Nearing the plant, Tom's feeling of shock was intensified - the blaze was roaring up from the Special Projects building. Waves of heat buffeted his flying car as he landed near the crackling inferno.
Tom leaped out, shielding his eyes from the glare of the fire. "Good grief!" He thought. "All my special projects going up in smoke!"
The plant's warning siren had alerted everyone at the experimental station. Men, their faces livid in the light from the flames, were fighting the fire. A tank truck was already spewing Tomasite foam into the blaze and two more came speeding and clanging to the scene.
"Boy, this sure is a bad fire, skipper!"
Tom turned and saw the chunky figure of Phil Radnor. "How'd the fire get so far out of hand, Rad?" He questioned anxiously.
"Arson is my guess." The security man had to shout to make himself heard. "The flames broke out all over the building at once. They were sky-high by the time we got the alarm."
Tom took charge of the fire fighters and soon the flames were brought under control. Luckily, Special Projects had been closed for the night and no employees were inside, but the building was left a blackened, smoking shell.
The special chemical had cooled the ruins quickly. Tom, Ames, Radnor, and Doc Simpson entered the wrecked structure. The central workshop was a shambles. Tom felt sick as he examined the charred, twisted remains of the probe robots. The intense heat had buckled several metal beams in the ceiling.
"Definitely arson," Ames declared. "Nothing else could have caused such a holocaust."
A fire inspector arrived and Radnor reported that an arson expert from the State Police was on his way. Leaving them all to probe the ruins, Tom jeeped to the security office with Ames. Here he telephoned Pedro Uzcudun.
"Listen, Pete," he said, "did that message tonight seem to involve anyone besides me? Or did you pick up any more details later?"
"This may sound loco, amigo, but I got a dim impression of someone or something very hairy or whiskery." Uzcudun gave an apologetic chuckle. "It made me think of a grizzly!"
When Tom reported this to Ames, the security chief shrugged. "Not much help, is it?"
"I'm not sure, Harlan." Tom rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Let's take a little ride."
Minutes later, their atomicar was swooping out of the darkness toward a gabled house overlooking Lake Carlopa. Although it was past midnight, lights showed in several windows.
Tom rang the bell. At last a bearded figure in shirt sleeves opened the door.
"Ah, good evening." Dr. Grimsey stared in surprise at his visitors but invited them in.
"Sorry to bother you so late," Tom apologized. "Something has happened at the plant."
The elderly scientist did not seem to understand. His wild shock of gray hair made him look even more bewildered. "I - uh -" Suddenly he broke off. His left hand, marked by the large mole, flew up to his ear. "Do forgive me! I was getting ready for bed when the bell rang, and in my hurry I neglected to put on my hearing aid."
He started to turn away but Tom urged him into a chair. "Please sit down. This news may be a shock." Torn shaped his words so Grimsey could lip-read. "I'll get your hearing aid."
The elderly man seemed perplexed, so Tom turned to Ames. "Write what I said, Harlan."
As Ames complied, Tom hurried upstairs to Grimsey's bedroom. Soon he returned with the hearing aid. The bearded scientist inserted it gratefully and beamed at Tom and Ames.
"Ah, that's better. Thank you."
"Can you hear me now?" Tom asked.
"Yes, perfectly."
Tom gave him a piercing look. "That's strange. Your hearing aid has no battery - I removed it." The young inventor held out a tiny dry cell.
Grimsey spluttered and leaped to his feet.
"Grab him, Harlan!" Tom cried out.
The whiskered man fought like a tiger, biting and kicking, but Tom finally subdued him with an armlock and Ames slipped on handcuffs.
Tom quickly removed the impostor's bushy wig and false whiskers. He also peeled the cleverly faked mole off the man's hand. Ames gaped.
"How did you wise up to him, skipper?"
"That word 'grizzly' is pretty close to 'Grimsey,' " Tom explained, "and he was sure hairy enough to fit Pete's description. As a matter of fact, he struck me as strange on his first day back at work."
"Then he set the fire?"
Tom nodded. "Probably by incendiary bombs which he concealed in the building before leaving the plant. He may have used a timer - or he could have ignited them by remote control. No doubt he also stole the plans."
"But how did this phony manage to take the real Dr. Grimsey's place?" Ames asked.
"The switch must have been pulled the evening Grimsey came home from the infirmary," Tom said. "But we'll let Mr. X explain."
Ames glared coldly at the impostor. "All right, mister. Start talking! Where is Grimsey?"
The only response was a sullen shrug. Ames finally called the police and the prisoner was taken off to jail. Then Tom and Ames searched for the missing blueprints and found them in the impostor's briefcase.
Next morning, over a late breakfast, Tom listened to a radio newscast. Again his new 3-D television system was mentioned. He drove off to work, very much annoyed at the news leak.
Minutes after he arrived at Enterprises, Mr. Swift landed in a cargo jet from The Citadel. Tom greeted him in their big double office and related everything that had happened.
"This leaves a big load on your shoulders, son," Mr. Swift said. "Can I give you a hand?"
"That would be great, Dad!" Tom exclaimed. "It has been months since we teamed on a project. But how about your atomic research?"
"Give me this morning to get things squared away and I'll be ready for you."
Ames came into Tom's laboratory later. "The switchboard's flooded with calls about your 3-D TV," he reported. "Newsmen, manufacturers, TV big shots - they all want the inside dope."
"What's being done about it?" Tom queried.
"Don't worry. Your dad's handling the calls so you won't be disturbed. Incidentally, we checked out that leak."
"Who spilled the news?" Tom asked.
"Fosburg, at Teletron. He blabbed to a reporter. When I called to check, he said he didn't think it would matter since we were planning a publicity release soon."
Tom grimaced. "My fault for mentioning it."
In spite of the mounting pressure, Tom found it hard to work. He felt depressed and worried about Dr. Grimsey, and the illness of Felix and Arv. Unable to concentrate, he went over to the Special Projects building in the hope of salvaging some parts from the ruined robots.
Tom's father found him poking about the burned-out workshop. "No wonder your lab didn't answer." The elder scientist smiled and added, "I've just had a call from the Council of Television and Advertising Executives."
"What about, Dad?"
"They're having a luncheon today, but their speaker was called away - so they want you to give a talk about your new 3-D television."
Tom demurred, but his father urged him to accept. "It'll do you good, son - get your mind off things. And it's a chance to give your new invention a great publicity send-off 1"
"Hmm. . . . Well, maybe you're right. Dad."
Tom took off for New York City by helijet, accompanied by Bud, who would help him handle the telejector equipment.
After the luncheon, Tom began his presentation by explaining his 3-D TV system. Then, while Bud panned the camera over the audience, Tom, projected their three-dimensional images near the speaker's platform.
The room rocked with applause.
"This will certainly shake up the industry!" A network vice-president exclaimed.
A doubting advertising agency executive rose to his feet. "Your demonstration's great," he told Tom, "but let's face it. This is bound to take years before it hits big. Look how long it took color TV to reach a wide public."
Tom grinned at the challenge. "It may take time," he agreed. "But why let that stop you, gentlemen? My 3-D telejector can revolutionize the entertainment and advertising field overnight - if you use your imaginations."
"Are you implying a laboratory scientist would know more about that than we would?" The executive retorted sarcastically.
"Take it any way you like, sir." Tom smiled politely. "I think I can promise you a spectacular example of what I mean in a few days."
He refused to say more, although the audience buzzed with questions.
"Tom Swift is a showman - I'll grant him that," Bud overheard the executive say. "He's already got everyone eaten up with curiosity!"
On the flight back to Shopton, Tom declined to tell even Bud Barclay what he had in mind. "Bear with me, fly-boy," he said with a chuckle. "I'm hoping to make your eyes pop, too!"
As they landed at Enterprises, Ames came speeding out in a car. "Hop in!" He told the boys. "The impostor who posed as Dr. Grimsey is ready to talk!"
"What changed his mind?" Tom asked on the way.
"Wes Norris convinced him he'd be charged with kidnapping or even murder if the real Dr. Grimsey wasn't found."
Norris, an FBI agent, was an old acquaintance of the Swifts. He and Police Chief Slater greeted Ames and the boys when they arrived at headquarters. Then the prisoner was brought into Slater's office.
"Tom Swift is here now, so let's have your story!" The chief barked.
The mystery man, haggard and shaven-headed, asked for pencil and paper. He wrote something on the paper, then held it up. The paper bore the single letter Q!
CHAPTER XVII
ROUNDUP RAID
TOM's eyes kindled as the man showed them what he had written. "What does the Q stand for?" Tom demanded tensely.
"It's a symbol used by a gang of scientific spies," the prisoner replied, "probably the most dangerous espionage outfit at large. They call themselves Group Q, and are identified by their special lighters."
"Let's get your name," Wes Norris put in.
"Kessler - Jeremy Kessler," the shaven-headed man told him. "I'm an engineer and physicist."
"You're a member of the gang?"
"I was a member. Once I talk, I'll need protection from their vengeance."
"You'll get it," the FBI man assured him.
"Group Q is now engaged in space communications research," Kessler began, "to help them carry out rocket and missile espionage."
"For what country?" Chief Slater asked.
"They have no national loyalty. Group Q sells its information to the highest bidder."
"And the Green Orb diner setup was part of their espionage activities?" Tom inquired.
Kessler nodded. "Flamm is one of the gang's top men. That revolving sign to pick up telemetered data was his idea. The diner made a good place to eavesdrop on your rocket crews."
After the Green Orb had appeared in the sky, the prisoner went on, Flamm had decided to change the name of the diners as an excuse to erect the green sign balloon. As Tom had suspected, the balloon contained a TV camera.
