The Secret of the Ninth Planet | Page 8

rocket helicopters popped into sight, hovered over the valley on streaming jets, and settled down.
"They're U.S. planes!" gasped Burl, jumping to his feet and going to meet them. "It must mean that they know we stopped the machines."
"Obviously," said his father, striding with him to greet the helmeted man who was now stepping out of the lead machine. By this time the last of the squad had landed, and the khaki-clad soldiers in them were already disembarking. "I imagine that all over the world the sky turned a little brighter. It must have been apparent at once."
The leader of the 'copter men reached them. He was a tall, bronzed man, wearing the service coveralls and markings of a captain of the Air Force. He stretched out his hand. "You must be the Dennings. I'm Captain Saunders. I've been asked to bring you back with me right away so that we can get a complete report on this affair. How fast can you get ready?"
"Why," said Burl, "we're ready right now. As soon as we can dump our packs aboard. But, gee, you mean go back where?"
Saunders smiled grimly. "To California. We just left there. I have been given urgent orders to waste no time. So will you oblige?"
The two Dennings looked at each other. This was important, all right. They realized that these planes had flown on fast rockets the instant the sky had cleared. Possibly there was still a crisis one they had not heard of.
They did not pause to ask further questions. Mark Denning asked the captain to dispatch one of his 'copters to the camp beyond the mountains to tell Gonzales to load up and start back for Lima. This order given, the two Dennings climbed into the rocket 'copter, and Saunders took the controls.
With a whoosh, the squat craft lifted on its rockets, its jet-driven fan carried it up, folded, and the rocket engine took over. On upward into the stratosphere they hurtled, across the Western Hemisphere, across the face of jungle and isthmus, across the barren mountains of Mexico, and in a matter of less than half an hour, settled down in the wide open field of a U.S. Air Force base in southern California. It was all so swift, so sudden, that to Burl it seemed like a dream. There had been so many days in the field, in the peace and quiet of the high mountains of the Andes. There had been the slow hunting around age-worn ruins; the careful, deliberate sifting of tons of soil and sand for tiny shards; then this: the urgent message, the trek, the weird building, the strange, body-filling shock, and the control over the Sun-theft globes, followed by the swift transition over thousands of miles.
Here he was in his home country weeks sooner than he had expected but not to return to his home and school. No, for he felt that somehow an adventure was beginning that could lead anywhere. Perhaps his adventure had actually ended, but he saw now that he would be questioned, probed, and asked to recount his story over and over.
Burl and his father were met at the port by a group of officers and escorted rapidly to a room in a large building. Here there were half a dozen men in civilian clothes. One by one, these men were introduced, and as each one was named, Burl wondered more about what was to come.
There was a general from Army Intelligence. There was a high member of the State Department. There were three noted astronomers among them the surprisingly young Russell Clyde and the elderly and famous Dr. Merckmann. There was an aircraft manufacturer whose name graced a thousand planes, and an engineer who had contributed to the conquest of the Moon.
The general, Walton Shrove, asked them to sit down. He was in charge of the affair. It turned out to be a careful questioning of their story. It was not a hounding of questions as in a police quizzing, or a baiting from newspapermen eager to get a scoop. Rather, their questions were deliberate and intelligent. They drew out the full account of what Burl and his father had seen in that valley, and of what the Sun-theft globes appeared to be like in operation. They concentrated deeply on the curious experience which had placed in Burl the charge that enabled him to control the machines.
"Would you mind," the general asked Burl, "if we subject you to a series of medical and electronic tests to determine whether this charge is still with you?"
Burl shook his head. "I'll go along with anything you say."
"Very well," the general smiled. "We'll make our purposes clear to you afterward. But we want to get this over as soon as we can."
Burl left the room in company