Tom Swift and the Cosmic Astronauts by Victor Appleton II Page A

expeditions. But I’ll treat you to a bit o’ after-supper music, Western style!"
    As the diners settled back in their chairs, Bud mentioned to Tom that he had spent the morning in the astronomical observatory, which occupied one whole spoke of the space wheel.
    "They’re making a study of Venus," Bud reported. "In fact, they let me listen in on some of the signals they were picking up on the radio telescope—but I suppose a space genius like you knows all about such things."
    Tom grinned. "All planets emit such radio signals. It gives us a way to check on their heat, since the frequency of the signal depends on the planet’s surface temperature."
    "How do you like that!" Bud made a wry face. "And here I was hoping to surprise you with my keen technical know-how."
    "I’ve been impressed by what I have learned," remarked Felix Ming. "The astronomer, Professor Goldstone, told me that the surface temperature of Venus is a sizzling 900 degrees Fahrenheit—hot enough to reduce solid lead to a puddle."
    "And to think we’ve been there, or thereabouts," noted Hank Sterling. "If only we’d had time to make detailed observations of the surface."
    The outpost’s astronomers, Felix went on, had told him that the extreme temperatures could mean the planet has a hot core. But the most likely explanation is that the temperature is caused by sunshine, since the thick veil of carbon dioxide around Venus would cause a "greenhouse" heat-trapping effect. "They said Venus is a pretty energetic place, too. The entire surface is young, geologically speaking. The planet must have been subject to great upheavals in the last hundred million years or so."
    "They figure that means no life could exist on Venus at such a temperature," Bud ended. "They’ve scanned most of it with radar. It’s just a mass of barren rocks and desert."
    Tom frowned and set down his water glass. "Bud, that’s one point on which I disagree—I mean, about there being no life on Venus."
    "How come?" Bud asked eagerly. "Have you got any space clues which prove there is?"
    The young inventor shook his head. "No, my point is that we simply don’t know. I admit that no form of life on our planet could exist under such conditions. But remember, earth life grew up from the very first to fit in specifically with conditions here on earth. But that doesn’t prove a thing about life on other planets.
    "For all we know, entirely different forms of life—forms which we can’t even imagine— may have developed to exist under conditions on Venus. Nature is too vast and wonderful for puny creatures like us to say flatly that it can’t do certain things."
    "I see what you mean, Tom."
    Tom warmed to the subject, which was clearly a matter to which he had devoted much thought. "Another thing," he went on, "how do we define ‘life’? As a form of energy? Well, quantum theory tells us there’s energy, motion, and change in all things, even inanimate objects such as a stone. So by that definition, there must be ‘life’ on Venus."
    "Okay, I’m convinced," Bud said. "I must admit," he added with a grin, "you and your inventions have already made chumps out of too many experts who claimed ‘It can’t be done!’"
    Tom burst out laughing, breaking the sober mood. "That’s my pal talking! Let’s just hope this space-kite project doesn’t make a chump out of yours truly!"
    After disappearing from the mess compartment for a few minutes, Chow reappeared minus his apron, and wearing one of his favorite loud-colored cowboy shirts. His guitar cord was slung around his neck.
    "Uh-oh! Everybody run!" gibed Bud. But he turned his chair to listen.
    "Already promised Buddy Boy some gee-tar music tonight, so I sure can’t disappoint him," Chow announced with a wink at his audience. Then, after a few twangs, Chow broke into song in a voice slightly less foghorn than usual.
When I left good old Texas
To go roam wide and high,
Shore as hey never figgered
To wind up in the sky!
Oh, my