Tom Swift and His Repelatron Skyway by Victor Appleton II Read Free Book Online

vanishing species—endangered animals, plants― "
    Tom cut him off impatiently. "Why exactly are you here, Mr. Creel?"
    "Bottom line? I want to go along with you."
    "To Ngombia?"
    "As a reporter, to document your environmental—choices. Could be in your best interest, you know. Nice publicity for good old TSE, noted kid inventor keeping the world safe for neat consumer stuff like breathing, eating, and drinking."
    There was an edge to Tom’s quiet voice. "I’m not concerned about ‘nice publicity’. We always consider very carefully the long-term ramifications of our projects. If Enterprises chooses to go ahead, what we do will be valid in terms of human values as well as science."
    "Sure. As decided by you , out of the public eye."
    Bud started to rise from his chair. Tom waved him back down. "I think you’ve made your point, Mr. Creel. Or is this your idea of a warning? Do you and your associates plan some kind of disruption or protest if you don’t get your way?"
    Creel smiled. "Just asking for a ride, Tom. I’m a poor freelancer. Saving the world doesn’t pay very well. It’s not like I could afford to launch a jungle expedition on my own. Let me tag along. I’ll do a little writing, keep an eye on the native flora and fauna—including the humans who might not be into falling under the plow of progress—that kind of thing."
    It was Tom who stood. "We don’t take passengers along on our project expeditions. Blame our insurance company if you like. Goodbye, Mr. Creel."
    Darcy Creel shrugged and rose to leave. "Class dismissed. But as far as warnings, Tom― "
    "I figured you’d have one."
    "Oh, it’s a friendly one. That jungle you’re going to is a pretty interesting place. I’ve heard rumors about huge animals of an unknown species existing in the Ngombian rain forest," Creel said. "It’s never been properly explored—you might make an outstanding zoological find. But don’t think of your company safari as an afternoon’s pleasant amble through the palm trees. Your people could be in real danger. And not from crazed tree-huggers like me."
    "What sort of danger?" Tom demanded.
    "Let’s just say there’s a monster in the woodpile." With that Creel slunk out through the door.
    "You know what’s amazing, genius boy?" grumbled Bud. "Guys like that actually have mothers !"
    "It’s a real insult, someone thinking the Swift family would ever endanger― "
    Bud gave Tom’s arm a playful punch. "You don’t have to convince me of anything, Tom. Let’s move on to something important."
    Bud, who was scheduled for some face-time training in the Workchopper, headed off to the hangar. Tom remained in the office, puzzling over the aluminum "birds."
    He had noticed that they were cut in several different patterns. Did the shapes have any significance beyond crude aerodynamics? he wondered. Could they represent some kind of religious symbols or totems that might mean something to a native African?
    "Seems pretty farfetched," Tom concluded. But nevertheless, he thought it might be wise to show a selection of the objects to an expert in the field of African art and tradition.
    But that would have to wait.
    Feet up his desk, Tom was debating whether or not to call the Ngombian Embassy in Washington when the question was resolved for him. Trent’s temporary replacement announced an incoming call from Ambassador Onammi. "Young Mr. Swift, I must tell you—there have been some developments in this matter that have left us very unsettled."
    "Has something happened?"
    "Something quite remarkable. The recorded camera data you transmitted to us― "
    "You received it, didn’t you, sir?" Tom asked.
    "And a shock! The man who visited you in our name— he is not War’kno Kwanu! "
    Tom was flabbergasted! "Good night! Because your embassy had told us to expect Mr. Kwanu, it never occurred to us to question his identity!" Tom asked if the man’s face was known to the Ngombian security authorities.
    "Indeed so, I am sorry