Tom struggled out of the depths of sleep, got up, and groped his way over to the wall phone.
"Tom Swift Jr. speaking."
A familiar voice asked, "Did it come?"
"Oh, hi, Dad!" Tom replied, yawning. "Yes, Exman arrived in fine shape.
We"ve put him to bed. Tell you all about it tomorrow morning."
"Okay, Tom."
As Tom hung up, Bud roused and switched on a lamp. He had awakened in time to catch only part of Tom"s words. "Your father?" he inquired.
Tom nodded sleepily and was about to go back to bed. But Bud, still fascinated by the s.p.a.ce visitor, decided to have a peek at Exman. He got up and opened the door to the laboratory. A yell from him brought Tom rushing to his side.
"Hey! It"s gone!"
The spot by the night light where they had left Exman was now deserted!
Tom found a wall switch and pressed it. As light from the overhead fluorescent tubes flooded the room, the boys gave laughing cries of relief.
Ole Think Box had merely moved himself to another corner of the room!
"Guess he didn"t like that little chum we left on for him," Bud said with a chuckle.
"Let"s leave him where he is," Tom agreed.
The two boys went back to the adjoining apartment and were soon asleep again. Several hours later they were rudely awakened by a loud crash of gla.s.s and a heavy thud.
"Something"s happening to Exman!" Tom cried.
With Bud at his heels, the young inventor dashed into the laboratory.
CHAPTER XII
EXMAN TAKES ORDERS
A strange sight greeted Tom"s and Bud"s eyes. In the first rays of sunlight, the s.p.a.ce robot was moving back and forth about the laboratory in wild zigzag darts and lunges.
As he rolled toward a bench or other object, the brain energy seemed to send out invisible waves that knocked things over! Already the floor was strewn with toppled lab stools, books, and broken test tubes. The heavy thud had apparently been caused by a falling file cabinet.
"Stop him!" Bud yelped.
Exman was heading straight for a plate-gla.s.s window! Reaching from floor to ceiling, the gla.s.s formed one entire wall of the laboratory.
"Oh, no!" Tom tensed, realizing that it was hopeless to try to stop Exman in time.
But an instant later, the rolling robot stopped of its own accord, as if registering the fact that its energy waves were now striking a fragile surface. The thick pane of gla.s.s vibrated in its frame.
"Good grief!" Tom wiped his brow. "Let"s corral that thing before he wrecks the whole lab!"
Exman was already rolling off on a new tack. The two boys managed to grab him before more harm was done. The brain energy in its container seemed to calm under their touch.
"What in the name of s.p.a.ce science triggered it off?" Bud wondered out loud.
"Time. It must have reacted to the pa.s.sage of time," Tom conjectured.
"I suppose it just decided to explore this place." He added a bit nervously, "The sooner we can communicate with this energy, the better!"
"But how?" Bud asked.
Tom"s brow furrowed. "Say, I wonder if Exman might understand a direct order?"
Tom backed a few paces away from the s.p.a.ce robot, then said in a loud, clear voice, "Come here!"
Exman remained fixed to its spot.
"Move right!" No response. "Move left!" Still no response.
"Guess you"re not getting through, skipper," Bud commented with a grin.
"No," Tom agreed. "I can"t predict what kind of energy this brain will respond to. Being only energy, it must respond to other energy and sound is our form of energy. The problem is the same as with radio waves, which are also energy. We must figure out how we can vary the energy, so it can transmit information to Exman."
"What _do_ we try?" Bud asked. "Or is it hopeless?"
"I"ll try communicating with it via the electronic brain, which I have adapted to fit this problem."
The boys cleaned up the wreckage caused by Exman in his dawn venturings.
Then Tom went by jeep to the computer laboratory, made connections to his electronic brain, and wired it for remote control. Then he returned to the private laboratory. There Bud watched as he hooked up the leads from the computer to a transmitting-receiving decoder with a short-range antenna.
"Speak, O Master!" Bud said, imitating a squeaky robot voice. "Sound off loud and clear!"
Tom grinned and tapped out a command on the keyboard: _Move backward._
Exman rolled backward! Bud gave a whoop of delight.
Tom signaled: _Move forward._ Obediently Exman rolled toward him.
_Stop._ Exman stopped.
"Hey, how about that?" Bud exclaimed happily. "It really savvies those electronic brain impulses!"
"And minds them--which is equally important," Tom added.
A moment later the brain energy seemed to become impatient. It spurted off in its wheeled container toward a laboratory workbench.
_Crash!_ A rack of test tubes went sailing to the floor with an explosion of tinkling gla.s.s.