"That’s what heroes and genius boys do, hmm?"
Casting about for a change of subject, Bud snapped a mental finger and said, "Um, say—shouldn’t you be telling me about your latest invention?"
"Like in the books?"
"Forget the books!" responded the black-haired youth sharply. "What about that space-scooper gadget you mentioned?"
"Want to hear about it?"
"Jetz, since when do you ask?"
Tom smiled. "Okay. I call it a telesampler."
"Naming it’s a good start."
"I have to name ’em quick or they get nicknamed. Want to see it? I’ve been fooling around with it in my electronics shop just down the hall."
"Absolutely!" Bud exclaimed. "Let’s head down to the lab and see what’s on the slab."
"Huh?"
"Nothin’. Something my Dad says."
As they walked the few dozen steps to the door of Tom’s mini-lab—one of many throughout Enterprises’ four-mile-square complex—the young inventor gave Bud a preface. "I started working on the idea quite a while ago, when Dr. Tarski identified the comet by telephotometry, long before it was visible to the eye."
"Heading in from Comet Central, hmm? The Kuiper Belt?"
Tom shook his head. "This one’s an oddball. It’s coming into the plane of the solar system at a high angle—possibly from interstellar space; so I guess it does have a little special interest after all."
"Could it have come from some other solar system?"
"That’s not a likely scenario, flyboy. It probably originated in a cloud of interstellar material not orbiting a star but floating free—leftovers from the galaxy’s early days. Some random collision jarred it loose and sent it on its way."
"Got it," Bud nodded, "and I know the astronomers have all said it won’t come near the earth."
"No, but it does cross the earth’s orbit more or less, about a third of the way ahead. Then it’ll snap around the sun and head back out into deep space. But it’s got itself roped by the sun now, and it’ll be orbiting back in, oh, a few million years or so."
"I’ll keep an eye out."
They entered the lab and Tom gestured toward one of the work counters, littered with wires, components, and test equipment. "The telesampler!" Tom said grandly. "Or at least—the telesampler in the making."
Bud approached the counter and walked around it, eyeing the heap of technology. "Hi there, Swift invention!" he said jauntily. "So this is your super space scooper. Does it work, Skipper?"
"Good enough for a demo. I’ll switch it on and set the focus to―"
Tom stopped as a low, wavering humming sound seeped into the lab from the hallway beyond, like a drone from some distant world.
Bud’s face brightened with a mischievous grin. "Get your telesampler bench rig ready, Tom!" he urged in muffled tones. "Chow's coming!"
Tom admitted he was ready for a spark of diversion. The two conferred in whispers for a moment.
Then the door swung open and a plump, cowboy-booted figure came clumping into the room, pushing a lunch cart in front of his ample midriff. "Thought I hear’d Buddy Boy in here. Soup's on, buckaroos!" he boomed. "An’ looky here at this chocolate cake I jest baked!"
"Mmm, boy! Looks delicious!" Bud said. He reached one hand down behind the laboratory workbench, out of the cook’s view, then pulled out his fingers globbed with chocolate frosting. "Tastes delicious, too!" Bud added, licking off the icing with loud lip smacks.
Chow blinked in surprise. He looked at the cake, then stared at Bud, goggle-eyed. "B-b-brand my beefsteak, what's goin’ on here?"
Although Bud was ten feet from the lunch cart, a hunk had just been gouged out of the cake frosting!
Chow’s eyes, bulging more than usual, fixed on Tom. "Time t’ mess around with my ole bald hat-rack, huh. Okay boss, what’s this here whipsnipper doin’ this time?"
"Don’t panic, old-timer," Bud said soothingly. "I don't aim to eat it all up—not in one gulp, anyways." He thrust his fingers out of sight again and in a moment was licking off more
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