"Appleton, Victor - Tom Swift Jr 12 - In the Race to the Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Appleton Victor)

Tom could not keep a straight face any longer.
MYSTERIOUS RAIDERS 37
Bursting into laughter, he went over and switched off the repelatron.
Now that they were free again, the girls giggled at the trick he had played on
them. Phyl tried to assume a straight face, although her dark eyes danced with
laughter. "We ought to leave you flat, Tom," she declared. "But we'll forgive you if
you tell us how the trick was done."
"I aimed this repelatron straight at you, and switched it on before I left the
lab," Tom explained. "It's tuned to repel the cotton fabric in your dresses-so
naturally you couldn't move. The force wave held you pinned in place."
"Someday /'// invent something to hold my big brother down!" Sandy scolded
jokingly. "But never mind that now. Let's go get Bud."
Tom laughed. "Okay, we're on our way."
They hurried to the airfield and boarded Tom's heliplane, a sleek craft which
could take off vertically by rotors, and then convert to a speedy jet for forward
flight.
In less than half an hour they landed at Fearing Island. The control tower
informed Tom that Bud was at the tracking center. There, they found the young
pilot seated in front of the electronic brain.
"Time to quit! We have a date tonight," Tom announced.
Bud spun around, instantly jumped up, and said, "Hi, everybody!" Then he
added excitedly, "I just picked up a new message from space! Or rather, part of a
message."
38 THE RACE TO THE MOON
Tom's eyes blazed with interest. "What was it?"
"Just two symbols appeared on the scope, then the message stopped." Bud
handed him a piece of tape. "Here's the translation."
Tom studied the tape as Sandy and Phyl looked on anxiously. The
interrupted message said:
SITUATION DESPERATE. SENDING OUT----
"It's a shame the message was interrupted," said Sandy.
"Somehow the Brungarians must be able to interfere with our space friends'
frequency," her brother said thoughtfully.
"What can you do, Tom?" Phyl asked.
"Not a thing, I guess, except keep on waiting for the rest of the message."
"But we can't wait," Sandy protested. "Not if we want to get back for the
party!"
"How much time do we have?" Bud asked.
"Well, we're due at seven," Sandy replied, "and we have to go home and
dress."
Bud grinned. "We'd better work this out on one of Tom's Little Idiots."
These amazing miniature computers were the smallest and most compact
ever built. The operator simply "talked" his problem into a microphone, and the
computer then reeled off the answer on tape.
Tom laughingly produced a computer and Bud began supplying data to the
machine. "Now," declared the copilot, "this little gadget will tell us what time we'll
have to leave here."
MYSTERIOUS RAIDERS 39
Sandy and Phyl giggled at some of his remarks but pretended to be hurt as
he said, "Two hours for girls' primping, ten minutes for boys to shower and