Tom Swift and His Space Solartron by Victor Appleton II Page A

"Poor li’l varmint—I’ve never seen one so far from home before!"
    "Confidentially, it just arrived by flying saucer," Bud said with a straight face. "Tom’s space friends figured you deserved a reward for ‘extraordinary valor in outer space’!"
    As Chow glowered at him suspiciously, Bud exploded with laughter. "Okay, okay. I just borrowed it—don’t know if it’s a him or a her —from the zoology lab! But it’s the sentiment that counts."
    Chow gave his young friend a good-natured nod. He was touched by the sight of the little reptile from his home range. "Jest for that, buddy boy, I’m a-keepin’ this critter fer my own mascot," he declared in his usual foghorn tones. "I’ll call him Li’l Ole Alamo."
    Tom smiled, patting Chow on the back. "You’ve earned him. And now, how about you and Alamo working up some grub, pardner?"
    The stout Texan beamed. "Comin’ right up, boss! What with ever’body else doin’ experee-mints around here, it’s about time I rolled out a few o’ my own."
    "Bud will be first in line, won’t you?" said Bashalli blithely as the young pilot gulped.
    After a quick lunch of cosmic-spiced frankfurters and baked beans, Tom prepared to give his matter-making machine another, more demanding tryout. The solar reflector was turned to face the sun, providing the full battery-changing setup all the power required for extended use. In space a couple hundred yards from the outpost, the two bales of folded transifoil floated at the ends of their output-tube links.
    "Don’t you have to unfold them, amigo?" Ken Horton asked Tom.
    "Sure do," the young inventor replied. He turned to a small crowd of watchers gathered at one of the spoke’s several small viewing portholes. "Ladies and gentlemen—the Remarkable Tom Swift Atom-Snatcher!"
    Tom threw a couple switches. At first there was no obvious effect, and Tom received a few curious glances. Then Bashalli gasped. Bit by bit, fold by fold, the four-acre collector lattices were opening up! Several minutes later the pair of rectangular grilles stood flat and rigid, gleaming in the harsh sun-glare. They floated in parallel, separated by what appeared to be five hundred feet or so.
    "Tom, how come there are two of ’em, anyway?" Ted Spring asked.
    "Because they work together, like two sides of a trap. The flux—which extends some ways out into space, incidentally—causes the hydrogen atoms to slow down in the area between the screens and forces them toward the tubes in the lattices. The atoms enter the tubes through submicroscopic pores and are electrically accelerated through the conduits and, finally, right into the solartron’s tank."
    As the solar-energy apparatus began to produce a stable current, Tom fed power to his machine. The laboratory hummed with the tremendous flow of electricity.
    "How’s she perking?" asked Bud after several minutes had gone by.
    Tom’s face wore a pleased grin. "Hydrogen input—solid! And Matty’s definitely making something in there—and a lot of it, too!" He drew off a quantity of gas and tested it. "Oxygen, folks! Good thing I arranged to pipe it into the station reserve tanks or we’d be space-happy on the stuff!"
    "Are you going to try to make solid matter this time?" asked Ted.
    Tom nodded as he studied the complex wave pattern on the oscilloscope and adjusted several tuning knobs. "We’ll try carbon first," be explained. "That’s a basic element in all organic compounds."
    The young inventor stood by tensely as the test solartron throbbed with a slightly different tone. He watched the control dials like a hawk, making frequent adjustments as the needles flickered back and forth.
    Minutes crept by, half an hour, then an hour. Finally Tom checked the receiving tank. It contained a thinly sprinkled deposit of a black powdery substance!
    "Magic!" Bud exclaimed. "Don’t keep us in suspense, Tom. Is it carbon?"
    Tom rubbed some between his thumb and forefinger. "Looks like carbon, all right," Tom