Tom Swift and the Mystery Comet (17 page)

"A minor point!" huffed the skeptic. "You’ve looked only in one spot."

"No, several spots, all underneath that suspect chandelier. Oh, and also," he went on, "there’s Foucault."

"You mean the Foucault Pendulum?" asked Sandy. "That one?"

"Right—very long-lined pendulums with heavy weights that swing frictionlessly on their own for hours or days at a time. Like gyroscopes, they don’t turn along with the earth, and so, as the earth turns under them, they appear to be slowly turning their angle of swing with respect to the ground or floor.

"But all I mean is to refer to the fact that long heavy pendulums keep swinging for a long time. That big heavy chandelier is just hanging free on its chain. Shouldn’t it still be swinging if it was used as you theorize, Dr. Sarcophagus?"

The defender of nondeviant science reddened but said, "Okay, Swift. What’s your opinion? Spectral monks? Intervention by
high-spirited
aliens? Shall we check the carpet for crop circles?"

In silent response the young inventor walked back and forth for a moment, staring up at the high windows on the far wall. "Just noticing where I can see the moon, which gives the limit of the moonlight beams that slant down to the floor. From Sandy’s description the ‘phantom’ must have stood about
there
, which
isn’t
directly under the chandelier, but a couple feet to the side. Something rising straight up would pass right by the chandelier and end up bumping the ceiling—and the slant of the ceiling would cause it to graze along to..." Tom removed from his pocket a pencil-thin electronic flashlight that projected a concentrated beam, and shone it upward. "
There
!"

Gasps filled the air. High above, a gray mass clung to the ceiling, dangling limply!

"It’s just cloth!" pronounced Sandy in disgust. "It looks like gauze!"

Tom nodded. "Some very lightweight fabric, which the haunter wore on top of the rest of his costume. That’s why you could see through the outer fringes of it."

"A balloon, isn’t it," stated Wolf.

"I’d say a balloon is taped inside the cloth sheet right at the middle, like a head that the gauze hangs down from."

Bashalli said, "The prankster releases the whole affair, and up it floats through the moonlight."

"That balloon would have to be pretty big," observed Sandy thoughtfully. "But... I didn’t notice any kind of bulge in the phony’s outfit."

"Sure!" Tom replied. "Which means the stalker had it on top of his head, maybe tied down around his neck with a string."

Sarcophagus waved a hand impatiently. "The wonderful world of speculation! Your conjecture doesn’t hold water, not in the face of other evidence. Such an arrangement would make the figure appear unusually tall, but Sandy has described someone not especially taller than the average man. I suppose you’ll say next that he lugged a helium tank around under his cloak to inflate the balloon on the spot! Or some other boys-book gimmickry."

"I thought you professional skeptics made a point of challenging lazy assumptions," retorted the youth coolly. "Maybe the person carrying the balloon
wasn’t
‘the average man,’ but the average
woman
!"

"For example," said Bashalli, "this one right here, who is looking in every direction
except
toward you, Thomas!"

"
Elka
!" exclaimed Wolf, astounded.

Marcus spoke up quietly. "She didn’t pull the stunt alone."

Elka had tears in her voice. "I... I suggested that we put together a little prank, a little fun, and Marcus went to the village to buy the cloth and one of those silvery Mylar party balloons. He was able to sneak it back to Kurenkastel in his backpack."

"So that’s where you two went wandering during the afternoon," said Wolf. "But this was not mere fun! It is unforgiveable, your frightening our guest in this manner."

"It may have been aimed at Sandra," Bashalli said knowingly, "but she herself was not the motive—not the
only
motive."

"You are my friend, Wolf, but you are always self-centered and insensitive to Elka’s feelings!" grated Marcus heatedly. "What sort of gallantry is it, shamelessly flirting with Miss Swift even in front of the very eyes of your
liebchen
Elka? She deserves better!"

The eyes of the young aristocrat flashed fire. "
Better
!—such as you, Marcus?"

"Could we just skip the duel this time?" groaned Bud.

Tom’s face was grim. He stepped closer to the tearful Elka and spoke in a low voice. "I have to ask you a question. I realize you meant no harm, knowing that Bud and Wolf are strong, healthy young guys. But please tell me—
was
it you who put that drug on the swords?"

Wolf boldly cut across her startled protest. "It is impossible! All afternoon, beginning to end, Elka was at my side, or in front of me. There was no opportunity."

"Nor did I ever leave sight," added Marcus. "Several can verify my whereabouts throughout the day."

"Then I guess I’m wrong," concluded Tom apologetically. "We’ll have to leave that
scientific investigation
for another day." Tom turned and eyed the fuming Dr. Sarcophagus. "Doctor, now you know a little more about me. It’s my feeling of curiosity, call it a self-centered
whim
if you want, that makes me question the safe normal answers and look a little harder. We Swifts have a family trait. We don’t accept limits just because other people say we should. If that’s just an excuse to indulge in imagination—sometimes it works pretty well, don’t you think?"

"What I
think
is that I need some sleep!" snapped the man sourly.

The next morning—not too early—the pursuit of the newest clue commenced. The skyship made a startling sight in the bright sunlight, hovering near the walls of the old medieval castle. Standing on a terrace the Graf’s servants gawked in astonishment.

"Not Wolf, though," Bud pointed out.

"Actually, I invited him to join us," replied Tom. "But he said he’d be busy all morning. I don’t think he’s very interested in science."

"At least not
this
field."

Tom went forward and took over the controls from Slim Davis, joining Lett Monica, Dr. Feng, and the inevitable Dr. Sarcophagus. Chow had declined, joining the girls and some of the others on a sightseeing trip through tiny Steurenen and then on through the local mountains. "I’ll keep an eye out fer avalanches," the westerner promised.

The
Queen
streaked toward the Berg der Weissen Konigin. When they reached the low hill, barely noticeable, Tom descended to the searchlight bay, followed by Lett and Sarcophagus. As Bud copiloted next to Slim, the young inventor extended the boom and switched on his aerial telesampler. He aimed the gunlike transmitron unit at the ground as the craft maneuvered in slowly widening circles about the hilltop. Sample readings began to accumulate, each one analyzed instantly even as it materialized.

"If there was ever something down there, I see no trace now," commented Lett. "No old ruins. Just boulders and mountain brush."

"Well—I’m disgusted to admit that I hope you come across something," Randolph Sarkiewski muttered grudgingly. "I’ve never doubted the value of the science of archaeology, only its many mutated offspring."

"Those that led to our finding Atlantis, for instance?" needled Tom with his eyes on the readout dials.

"So
you
choose to call it. I’m still waiting for the promised mystic crystal revelations."

"Slim! Bud! Hold it!" Tom called over the intercom suddenly. His eyes were fixed on the analysis output monitor. Then he lifted the transparent recovery tank for the others to see.

"Look!" Tom’s face was flushed with excitement. At the bottom of the receptacle, divided into containment cells, was a tiny smudge shining with a silver gleam!

"Got some mercury ore?" Dr. Sarcophagus blurted with uncharacteristic eagerness. "Cinnabar, perhaps?"

"Not ore!
Pure mercury!
"

"But genius skipper," objected Lett, "I thought mercury was never found in a natural setting, unrefined."

Tom’s eyes glistened like the silver sample! "It’s not!—and that means what the telesampler has snatched up isn’t just a vein of natural ore!
The beam must have penetrated into some artificial chamber inside the hill!
"

Pinpointing the precise location of the "catch," Tom directed the
Sky Queen
to hover steadily as he took more samples. "There’s no doubt at all!" he declared happily. "Pure mercury, probably right out of the beaker! As well as glass, copper, steel, wood cellulose—all manner of substances you’d expect to run across inside the Sanctum Never Seen!"

"How deep is the chamber?"

"Roughly forty feet beneath the top of the hill, which is still high above the valley floor. Bud says they’ve confirmed it with the other instruments."

"All right, all right," hissed Dr. Sarcophagus. "I suppose you’ve earned a good gloat. You’ve found
something
interesting. As to what it
really
is—we’ll see!"

WHILE Slim Davis steadied the Flying Lab, the air-launch hangar deck was extended from the underhull and a ladder was lowered some twenty feet further to the hillside. Tom, Bud, Lett, Dr. Feng, and Mr. Sarkiewski scrambled down hastily.

"Over here, near this rock!" Tom cried, leading the way. "The LRGM shows a long open space, an underground corridor, passing almost directly below. Looks like it connects to the main chamber we’ve detected."

"But you said it appeared the mouth of the tunnel was blocked up, just as the legends say," cautioned Karl Feng. "How do we get access to the corridor?"

Bud pointed upward. "Here comes the answer!" A metal object, resembling a small torpedo, was descending toward them on a cable.

"The small earth blaster—the nonvaporizing mechanical model—will open up a safe crawlspace for us through solid rock," Tom explained. "We’ll angle it sideways and punch through the corridor wall."

The pulverizing hypersonic vanes of Tom’s digging machine penetrated the slab of underlying granite like a knife through cheese. Suddenly the deafening whine fell silent. "Okay, Skipper," radioed Slim from the control compartment. "The penetradar shows she’s broken through."

"Go ahead and pull her out and up," replied Tom.

"I can understand how a person might get swept-up by all this drama and excitement," declared Dr. Sarcophagus.

"What! Even a skeptical sci-guy like you?" remarked Lett Monica.

"Oh, I’m as human as anyone else, Monica," grumbled Sarcophagus. "The difference is—I fight it!"

The earth blaster had made a circular opening, just wide enough for each of them to pass through one by one at a crouch. Tom, holding his electronic flashlight, went first, Bud at his heels as usual.

They emerged in a downslanting tunnel, dank and odorous, that was clearly the work of man. Squared blocks of worked stone paved its floor, and the walls were lined with granite pilasters supporting a ceiling of solid rock.

"I believe the old traditions have been wrong in one regard, at least," said Feng in awe as Tom played his flashlight back and forth. "The Brothers of Hermes did not establish their monastery-collegium in an underground cave system. They constructed their sanctum of solid stone, and built up an artificial hill over and around it!"

"With hidden entryways," Tom observed. As he flashed the light beam one direction down the corridor, he added grimly: "Maybe just one of them—all the easier to collapse and seal up, unfortunately." Only ten steps further, the hallway was completely choked by boulders and rubble.

"I believe their attackers even put something like cement between the boulders," Lett pointed out.

"Extra insurance against escape by alchemy," commented Dr. Sarcophagus. For the moment his voice was faint and verging upon respectful. It was easy to believe that the dark, silent, brooding place was a crypt for the dead.

In the other direction, further downward, the corridor was intact, but the explorers could see no further than a wall where the passage cut sharply to the left. "But look," said Tom, nodding toward the wall. "Something’s carved on it."

Feng took a few steps closer and extended a trembling hand, touching the gouge in the face of the rock and following it, as dust and dirt flaked away. It curved in a complete circle. Just above this and touching it was a shallow, half-moon curve. Below the circle was a cross.

"The alchemical symbol for mercury!" Dr. Feng exclaimed in awe. "The White Queen!"

"
One
of them, at least," Tom reminded the scholar. "Hopefully this White Queen will tell us something about her big sister out in space."

"We must be near the alchemists’ secret chamber!" Bud insisted. "But where the heck is it?" The second leg of the corridor extended another twenty feet and stopped at a dead end!

Lett trotted to the end of the corridor and examined the wall. "Nope, no secret panel, not that I can see."

The others gathered behind him. "You may have to apply your digging machine again," said Dr. Feng.

Bud scratched his head. "Good grief, I’ve heard of bridges to nowhere, but why build a
tunnel
to nowhere?"

"Not unprecedented," noted Sarcophagus. "You find them in Egyptian tombs. Stops grave robbers, but the spirit of the pharaoh wafts right on through."

"That statement is
fairly
close to truth," commented Feng sarcastically.

As Tom rubbed his chin over the development, Bud was pacing about restlessly just outside the zone of light. Just as Dr. Sarcophagus started to dispense some further wisdom, the others heard Bud yell amid a clattering tumult. He had almost disappeared from sight, leaving a California-shaped gap in the side of the hall!

His head and shoulders, smudged with dirt, reappeared. "Come on!" he exclaimed. "There’s some kind of opening here! I leaned on the wall and fell right into it!"

"Why, this is most ingenious!" declared Dr. Feng as he examined the ragged edge of the opening. "It was once a door of wooden slats covered in plaster, to which a thin stone surface had been affixed for camouflage. But the wooden crosspieces have rotted through."