Tom Swift and His Outpost in Space by Victor Appleton II Page B

Loonaui Island—actually, to a tiny islet we’ve purchased about four miles offshore. There we’ll install the rockets in the aqualaunch shells, as we call them."
    "Those are your carrier vehicles?" asked one of the engineers.
    "Right. Basically, they’re long cylinders pumped full of pressurized helium, made of a special compound of Tomasite. The rocket sits in a round opening at the very top, like a cork in the neck of a bottle."
    "How do you get those aqua-blimp-things down to the ocean floor, genius boy? Weight them down with ballast?" Bud inquired.
    "No, we’ll pull them down on a cable setup. When we release them, they’ll rush up to the surface with increasing speed. When the tip breaks the surface—that’s the actual rocket, remember—we’ll ignite it, and off she’ll soar, already moving pretty fast. If all goes well, we should be able to launch three a day, which we could never accomplish at Fearing." Tom was referring to Fearing Island off the Atlantic Coast of the US, where Tom’s small rocket ship, the Star Spear, was based.
    With its solar-fed engines purring contentedly, the great silver stratoship streaked across the continent faster than the speed of sound. Soon they were soaring far out above the broad Pacific.
    Late that afternoon, Tom arrowed in for a landing on Loonaui. The lush tropical island was set like a green jewel in the sparkling blue waters below. Gentle rolling white breakers burst into foam against the outlying coral reefs.
    "Oh, man, I can feel that South Sea island magic already!" Bud sighed as he climbed out of the plane.
    "Well, don’t get too romantic, pal!" teased Tom. "We’ve got a lot of work to do."
    "Aye-aye, skipper!"
    Tom and his friends were driven from the small airfield at Jeanmaire, the capital of the Loonaui Islands Republic, to the northern end of the island where Mr. Swift had leased an aging hotel and grounds for use by the Swift Enterprises project. They were greeted by the crew of native Loonauians that Tom’s father had engaged during his earlier visit. A mammoth warehouse had already been constructed at the water’s edge, next to a modern pier.
    The people of Loonaui were strong, sun-bronzed Polynesians, with a sprinkling of other groups—Samoans, Filipinos, and even some direct descendents of the old French colonials. Most of them were friendly, but one man in particular, named Pali, seemed different from the others, both in looks and disposition. He wore a sulky, scowling expression. Tom noticed that he seemed to be a man with a following.
    "I wouldn’t trust Pali farther than I could throw a rocket," Bud confided in private.
    "Ditto," Tom agreed. "But I have no reason to discharge him. If I do, it may only stir up trouble."
    "Leave it to me," Bud said. "I’ll keep an eye on him and find out if he’s up.to anything."
    While Tom was busy setting up quarters for men and equipment that were to arrive from Shopton in large numbers, Bud mingled casually with the natives. He soon realized that he could find out little without knowing the native language. Fortunately, Bud managed to make friends with a good-natured native boy about twelve years old, named Kipu, who agreed to act as translator.
    Late that afternoon, Bud saw Pali and a group of friends stroll away from the work area. Summoning Kipu, he set out to trail them. Some distance away, he found the natives seated near a grass hut in a secluded grove of pandanus trees. Bud and Kipu crept up close enough to hear what was going on.
    Pali was haranguing the other men in their native language. Suddenly Kipu clutched Bud’s arm and turned to him with a look of terror.
    "Come! We must go back to your friends at once! I am scared trouble!"
    Tom was checking cargo lists in his palm-thatched cottage when Bud and Kipu burst in.
    "What’s wrong?" Tom asked.
    "We come to warn you!" cried Kipu, still wide-eyed with fear. "Pali is making great stirring-up. I heard him say you and the men with you are evil—that