Tom Swift and the Mystery Comet (15 page)

"Oh
man
, guys, someone must have been following us," exclaimed Lett. "He overheard us talking to the owner of the first shop, then phoned a crony to go ahead and dope-up the swords at the other."

"Has to be something like that," Bud confirmed with a shaky voice. "After we took the package out of the shop, it was with us constantly."

"You mean, you never left it in the van?" asked Tom.

"Not even!" insisted Lett. "When we made one sightseeing stop, the only one, I held the box in my hand the whole time, with the lid on it."

"Well, however it happened, I can tell you this—we have to call the police," Tom declared. "The tamperer couldn’t have known which package you’d pick. He must have doped all the swords in the shop!"

"To poison innocent purchasers, the wretched
schweinhund
!" barked Enzbach. "
Mein Gott!
I will speak directly to the commander of the police myself—he’s a friend! You, innkeeper!—you must lock up that room, until the police come for the evidence."

The agitated group milled about for a time, and several of the students left, as did the ambulance personnel. Those who remained finally decided to have supper at the inn. "Nice big meal’ll do wonders. Mighty good way t’ flush out that there snake poison," Chow pronounced.

Bud gave the Texas chef a sly look. "It’s always worked before."

As they ate supper at the inn, Tom explained to Wolf and his companions why he had come to Germany. Dr. Feng told them how he had learned of the secret alchemy center from the old manuscript fragments. "The collegium was dedicated to Hermes—called Mercury in Latin—the legendary messenger of the gods," the professor related. "My interpretations suggest very strongly a location in the Bavarian Alps between the town of Achenpass and a tiny mountain village called Steurenen. As I have told you, it was said to be concealed underground, within a system of caves, and now the precise place is lost to history."

Wolf von Enzbach raised a hand, a hand accustomed to command, and silence fell. "
Herr Professor
Feng, a good thought occurs to me. This region, west of Steurenen—a branch of the Enzbachs have lived there since the fifteenth century, in Kurenkastel."

"A castle?" interrupted Sandy. "You mean a real castle?—knights in armor and a moat and all that?"

He smiled. "A real castle indeed, though the moat is long dry and the suits of armor stand empty. As is true of many such places, it is mostly a museum now, administered by the Bureau of Antiquities and Heritage. But nonetheless my grandfather’s brother, Great-Uncle Helmand, is the legal owner of the property and dwells there half the year."

Tom asked, "Do you recall—has he ever mentioned anything about the Sanctum Never Seen?"

"No, not to me—but listen! Growing up I stayed there many a summer, and have often come across a legend, an old story told among the village people. The gist of it is that the god Mercury himself claimed one of the high valleys for his earthly court and dwelt there, and is buried beneath in a secret crypt!"

Sandy was startled and wide-eyed! "
Goodness
!"

"Merc’ry," repeated Chow Winkler. "That’s the feller who wears a bowl on his head and’s got them bitty little wings on his feet—you know, the one who delivers flowers."

"And how is it a
god
can
die
, any-so-hoo?" Lett challenged humorously.

Dr. Feng chuckled. "These folk tales need not be logical. Yet in their own way they record the truths of history, like scraps of newspaper. I have run across some similar references in the manuscripts. It’s one reason for my interest in that specific area, a few hundred square miles. But I didn’t realize Kurenkastel belonged to the Enzbach family,
jungen
Wolf."

"Please, my new comrades, permit me to extend an invitation of behalf of my Great-Uncle," pronounced Enzbach soberly. "We have now some weeks before instruction resumes. I wish you, all of you here at this table, to come and stay as our guests for as long as this search continues. Use Kurenkastel as your home base, as it is said, and enjoy our hospitality. What an honor it would be, to discover the crypt of Mercury in what may be called our backyard!"

"The sanctum may indeed be a kind of crypt," smiled Dr. Feng, "but not of a god; rather a brotherhood of alchemists whose beliefs and loyalties upset the medieval
ecclesia
and the civil authorities who served it. Somehow I sympathize with these wisdom-seekers and their plight—a fact Sarcophagus will undoubtedly make much of."

"What do you intend to do now?" asked Sandy.

"My dear, that is up to your illustrious brother," was the reply.

"
Ja
, and there lies the question," nodded one of the student corpsmen, whose name was Marcus. "
Herr
Swift, how shall you pursue this peculiar search?"

"Before you answer, Thomas," interjected Bashalli teasingly, "please note that he is
not
asking for a detailed ‘well-Bud’ sort of account.
Ja
?"

"Okay. Then to be mercilessly
brief
," began the young inventor good-naturedly, "I have a new experimental machine aboard my Flying Lab that allows me to take molecular samples from the ground, or a distance
under
the ground, without landing. Then it gives a reading on the composition. I don’t really know if it’ll add much to what our other instruments come up with, such as the LRGM gravity-differential mapper and the penetradar system. But it might—and it’ll sure be a good test for a technology I plan to use on my manned probe to Comet Tarski."

"We have read in the news of your planned trip," remarked the nurse-trainee Elka, from deep within the left arm of Wolf von Enzbach. "To make a friend of the great comet!—
Wünderbar
! How wonderful!"

"In this search Tom Swift’s telesampler may well play a valuable role," declared Dr. Feng. "For you see, the sentence fragments in my manuscripts may refer not to the god Mercury, but rather may mean that the alchemy center was located near a deposit of the
metal
mercury—the strange-sounding term
The White Queen
was often used to signify it. Such key ‘magical’ substances are usually given mythic names in the Green Language of the secret alchemists. The chief ore of mercury is cinnabar—which often occurs near the outlet of hot springs. There are many such in Germany, eh?"

"So if Tom scoops up underground cinnabar, start looking for skeletons nearby!" Bud added.

Giving the Heidelberg students several hours to make necessary arrangements, Tom and the Americans took the van back to the
Queen’s
temporary airfield. Letting off the others, Tom drove the van back to its rental lot, and was then shuttled back to the jetcraft.

As Tom boarded, he found Bud awaiting him, a pensive look on his face. "Listen, Skipper... Slim just told me that Doc Sarc went out again this afternoon, right after he returned here with you."

"Yes, he said he wanted to do some sightseeing nearby, in the village. It’s only a few minutes walk."

"Uh-
huh
. And Slim says he came strolling back a few hours ago. Then he went to bed."

"I know what you’re thinking, flyboy, and I’m thinking about the same thing," said Tom seriously. "Sarkiewski could have used his time to set up that chemical trap for you and Wolf."

"Isn’t he the logical suspect?" Bud urged. "He could have been the source of that threatening note and the phone call, and he’s obviously some kind of weirded-out wingnut with a fanatical obsession. Who knows what crazy people like that might decide to do? This whole stupid ‘challenge’ to you might have just been a gimmick to get onto Enterprises grounds and do―"

"Sabotage?" The crewcut youth smiled at his friend. "It could be. He didn’t object to going along on this trip. He’d have been recognized if he himself tried to follow you in the city, but he may have hired someone to be his eyes and hands."

"Right! Maybe he went out to give somebody a paycheck!"

But Tom was trying to be objective and cautious. "Bud, you can put together
any
kind of theory if you start from the premise that your suspect is just plain
nuts
. Those warnings may have just been the work of some hero-worshipping prankster who wants to get in the... books. And I can’t imagine any reason—even a paranoid lunatic reason!—for Sarcophagus to try to take out you and Wolf von Enzbach. Besides," he continued, "there’s a very different scenario on my mind."

"Hunh? What?"

"That poison-sword stunt may not have been aimed at Barclay, Swift, or Enterprises at all. What if
Wolf von Enzbach
were the target?"

Bud was startled, but he conceded, "Didn’t think of that. Maybe it’s a political thing—he’s a pretty powerful guy, it seems."

"Or—it may be something more personal," Tom said with a brow wryly wrinkled. "It looks to me like Elka is his girlfriend—or at least she thinks she is. Your duel basically came about because Wolf was flirting with Sandy..."

Bud rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Got it. Crazed with jealousy! And Elka has nurses’ training, too. She probably knows all about that heart drug and where to get it."

"And who knows where she was during the afternoon? Or what she was doing?"

"Aw
maaaan
," groaned Bud. "Looks like the
Queen’s
flying to that castle with a real load of trouble on board!"

THE FLYING LAB covered the miles in minutes, landing near Kurenkastel at the edge of a small Alpine lake. As morning crept across the overlooking peaks, the breakfasters were thrilled at the majestic beauty of Bavaria.

"Wa-aal, brand my big ole cow-eyes!" Chow Winkler enthused. "This whole place looks like one o’ them carved cuckoo clocks!"

"And how does it compare with where you are from, Chow?" asked Wolf’s friend Marcus.

"Ain’t nothin’ compares with Texas, son."

As the sun rose higher, Wolf led them to the great door of the castle, or
Schloss
, nestled on higher ground at the base of a mountain and overlooking the lake. The huge decorous ruins had once been a summer home of the royals of Bavaria. Wolf told Sandy and Bashalli—the others were permitted to overhear—that it had been first been constructed in the ninth century, and wrecked three hundred years ago by a French king’s army.

"A good thing, perhaps," he added with a chuckle. "As you see, it was built and rebuilt century by century in such a jumble of styles it makes a more beautiful ruin than it was a piece of architecture. This part, the museum and living area, is modern—built in 1802."

"Long as it has indoor plumbing," remarked Dr. Sarcophagus.

"Aw now, I’m
sure
it does," Chow assured him.

Wolf continued unfazed. "A frequent guest here in the old days was a poet—Josef Victor von Scheffel," he said. "He wrote the words of many of our favorite student songs at Heidelberg."

"Don’t be misled, though," one of the girls said to the Americans. "We
Deutchlander jungen
are not stereotypes from old operettas,
hein
? We hold all those things to our ears and dance to what is ‘now,’
jawohl
?"

"Same in Brungaria," observed Lethal Monica. "We are mojo more cool than our fudzy elders."

"
Some of us
feel an obligation to uphold the dignity of tradition," muttered Wolf haughtily.

"And
others of us
feel sentimental folk traditions should be put on the shelf next to magic wands and love potions." No one bothered to turn to look at Dr. Sarcophagus.

In the great vaulted foyer the group was welcomed by Wolf’s great-uncle, an elderly but vigorous man, and his decorous wife Alyse. Graf von Enzbach was blind and walked the familiar halls with a cane, yet nonetheless wore a monocle in one eye as a symbol of ancient aristocracy. The girls liked him at once, but had to stifle a giggle as he bowed and brushed their fingertips with his jutting Kaiser Wilhelm moustache. "I do not require eyes to see that I am in the presence of loveliness," he said suavely, in perfect English.

The Americans shook hands with him, thanking him for his hospitality. "Pleased t’ meetcha, Graf," said Chow. "An’ you too, Graffiti." The Countess smiled graciously.

Wolf gave the visitors a long tour of the castle and its many treasures of art and history, a longer tour than Tom, who was anxious to commence his scientific mission, would have liked. After an early luncheon, during which the Count and Countess told Tom what little they knew of the old legends, Tom politely excused himself and his search team.

"These charming
frauleins
will not be bored while you search," promised Wolf. "There remains much I can show them."

"No doubt," said Bashalli.

The
Sky Queen
lifted into the air. "They should put a resort hotel up here," chuckled Slim Davis. "Or maybe a nature park. Look!" He pointed and the passengers glimpsed wild deer feeding among the tangled greenery of the slopes.

"Not far away, you would find the mountainsides terraced with vineyards and, in the right season, the air sweet with the scent of grapes and berries," commented Dr. Feng. "In fact, Heidelberg probably got its name from
Heidelbeerberg
, meaning Huckleberry Hill."

"Zat so?" responded Chow Winkler. "I know me a song about that! ‘I got me a thrill on Huckleberry Hill.’"

"No yodeling before the yodeling hour, wrangler," said Bud sternly. "It’s the law."

"Let’s get to work," Tom directed.

They flew a methodical pattern among the peaks, skimming low through narrow valleys and across broad meadows of mountain flowers. Lett accompanied Tom below in the searchlight bay, where the rebuilt telesampler was based. "Thanks for all your patience, genius boy," said the Brungarian. "I know teaching me how to run your machine goes well beyond the astronaut training routine."

Tom nodded. "I’m glad to give you a wider view of what I do and how I do it."

"And
I’m
glad to watch you give it." Standing behind them in the open hatchway to the cramped compartment, Dr. Sarcophagus had an urge to comment which was, as always, irresistible.