Tom Swift and His Ultrasonic Cycloplane by Victor Appleton II Read Free Book Online Page B

o’clock in the afternoon!
    Flying inland over the enormous island, they sighted dismal swamps, dense tropical rain forests, and towering mountain ranges. At some points, the ground was cleared in cultivated patches where the natives raised taro, yams, and vegetables. But most of the terrain appeared wild and forbidding.
    "And this is the twenty-first century. Imagine what New Guinea was like a few generations back." The voice behind Tom then asked, "Have you pin-pointed the spot where the crash occurred?"
    Looking up from his topographic flatscreen, Tom saw George Hedron entering the flight compartment.
    "Should be right about here, according to the—the final readings they transmitted." Tom pointed toward a spot on the screen, which they were rapidly approaching.
    Hedron frowned doubtfully. "That region is notorious for being poorly mapped. If Bud’s instruments were going haywire, the position he gave was probably way off."
    Tom nodded. "We have to start somewhere."
    Pointing just ahead out the curving viewport, Hedron called Tom’s attention to the fact that the area was blanketed by clouds. Hedron explained that fearful storms raged over this spot all the time.
    "I think a few miles beyond would be a better place to land. The clear valley there will give us a chance to search in all directions. Besides," added the zoologist, "it’s directly in Bud and Slim’s line of flight from their last reliable position."
    Tom looked at Hedron coolly. "I want to set down as close to the crash site as possible. I think the Queen can handle a storm."
    But soon enough Tom began to wonder if George Hedron weren’t right after all. The cloud deck became thicker and blacker, torn by startling flashes of brilliant lightning that seemed to dance from cloud to cloud. The Flying Lab swerved and vibrated, and Tom ordered all personnel to strap themselves in.
    "Never saw a storm like this one," gulped Arv Hanson, seated next to Tom.
    "It must be the same one that forced Bud and Slim down," said the young inventor. "I’d hoped it would have dissipated by now."
    Suddenly both men gasped as the deck tilted sharply forward. "The instruments!" cried Hanson. All the readout needles were wavering madly, and the radarscope was a flurry of static snow!
    Silently, Tom focused his energies on manipulating the controls of the great ship he knew so well. He poured power into the jet lifters. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the Sky Queen rose up out of the hurricane-like turmoil. In minutes it was hovering steadily in the stratosphere, high above the roiling clouds.
    "I won’t try that again," said Tom. "I guess George was right."
    Inputting the positional data for the spot Hedron had recommended, Tom turned the ship about. Ten minutes later he swooped downward toward a rough clearing. Tom switched on the jet lifters again and allowed the Sky Queen to settle gently onto the floor of a shallow valley. There was no sign of habitation, but the land had definitely been cleared by human hands some time in the past.
    The big skyship had hardly touched ground when the hatch opened and the men piled out. All were eager to explore the lush green surroundings.
    "Sure didn’t see no sign of any plane wreckage when we ’as comin’ down," Chow reported gloomily.
    "It might not be visible among the trees," Tom pointed out. "Remember, they might have ejected. We’ll split up into twos and scout around."
    Tom drew Hank as a companion. Together, they struck eastward through the forest. The air was spicy with the scent of tropical flowers, but insects were a constant nuisance. Overhead, the cries of strange birds broke the quiet of the jungle.
    "Sure hope we don’t meet up with any cannibals," Hank remarked jokingly. "Hey, what’s—!"
    He broke off with a gasp as he stumbled over a grassy hummock—a hummock which came to life! Rearing up on long, ostrichlike legs, it turned into a bird about five feet tall.
    "Good grief! What is it?" Hank goggled.
    "Cassowary, I