Rick Brant - The Electronic Mind Reader Part 3

Barby giggled. "I'm glad that you didn't have any doubts about our taking them in, Steve."

"Steve knows we're available any time he needs us, and for anything we can give," Rick said.

Steve smiled his thanks. "Well, now you can guess why I showed up with a hunk of artillery under my wing. I had to be sure there wasn't a reception party waiting. You never can tell about information leaks, no matter how careful you are, so I landed at the back end of the island with a squad of men and we went over the place with a fine-tooth comb. I didn't walk in until I was certain there wasn't a stranger on the island--including strangers you might not have known about."

Hartson Brant rose. "Well, I think we've settled all initial details except where we put the Millers--or rather, the Morrisons. Can you bring them tomorrow?"

Steve rose, too. "As Rick and Barby said, I didn't have any doubts.

How about tonight?"

"Tonight!" Barby gasped. "Are they here?"

"Almost. They're on a cutter offsh.o.r.e. If it isn't convenient, I can keep them overnight."

"Of course it's convenient," Mrs. Brant said firmly. "We'll put Mr.

and Mrs. Morrison in John Gordon's room. He's still out West. And we'll take the spare twin bed out of Hobart Zircon's room and put Janice in with Barby. Bring them ash.o.r.e right away, Steve. Barby and I will get busy, and Rick and Scotty can move the spare bed."

"Wonderful." Steve walked out to the porch and coughed twice. Rick hurried to his side just in time to see one of the trees in the orchard yield up a dark shadow that turned out to be a Coast Guard petty officer, carbine at the ready and a walkie-talkie slung over his shoulder.

"Let me have your horn, Smitty," Steve requested.

The coastguardman gave Rick a curious look as he handed Steve the phone.

The agent said, "Nevada, this is Texas. Deliver the goods."

The reply was, "Texas, this is Nevada. The package is in the mail."

Steve handed the phone back to the coastguardman and ordered, "Get the boys together and return to the s.h.i.+p, Smitty. Repeat their instructions. They don't know where they've been, and they don't know what they've been doing."

Smitty grinned. "Aye-aye, sir. That won't be hard. None of us really know where we've been or what we've been doing."

"Life is easier that way," Steve said. "Shove off, now."

"Aye-aye, sir." The guardsman faded off into the night.

"Let's move furniture," Steve suggested.

For the next few moments the house was a flurry of activity. Rick and Scotty dismantled the twin bed in Zircon's room, explaining only to the big scientist that unexpected company had arrived. Zircon, engrossed in a theoretical problem, scarcely noticed.

By the time Mrs. Brant was satisfied with arrangements and had counted the towels for the third time, Steve called from downstairs that the boat was arriving.

Rick, Scotty, and Barby ran to Steve's side and walked with him toward the landing where the Spindrift boats were moored. Dismal had paid little attention to the proceedings, but now, fearful of being left behind, the pup raced ahead of the group.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _The coastguardman gave Rick a curious look_]

The boat carrying the Morrisons--for so Rick was already conditioning himself to think of them--was approaching the dock. As the group hurried to meet the unexpected guests, two coastguardmen leaped from the big motor whaleboat and made it fast.

Dismal got there first. He barked furiously, trying to frighten off the invaders, then his barks suddenly changed to an anguished howl as a new voice joined in the racket. It was a feline voice, and a highly indignant one.

"Great grandma's ghost!" Steve exclaimed. "I forgot to tell you they have a cat!"

Dismal shot by them, followed by an enormous creature with glowing eyes that yowled at the top of its lungs, in what was probably very coa.r.s.e language to anyone who spoke cat talk. Dismal had at last met his match, and was beating an inglorious retreat.

Just as Rick was about to take up the chase and rescue his pup, the cat decided to break off the engagement. The ruffled fur subsided slightly as the animal turned from the chase and approached the four who had been hurrying to the pier. In the beam of Steve's flashlight Rick saw that the cat was a huge blue Persian, and though he knew little about cats, he recognized that this was an aristocrat of its kind.

The Persian gave a meow of greeting, then walked up and rubbed against Barby's legs. It gave out a noise that reminded Rick of a wood rasp rubbing over a piece of broken pine. The cat was purring!

Barby had stamped her foot angrily at the sight of Dismal being forced to retreat to the house, but the cat was too much for her. "You beautiful thing!" she exclaimed, and picked the creature up. It responded by purring louder.

Rick grinned. On the pet level, at least, the Morrison invasion was off to a fast start. He hoped the incident wasn't symbolic.

CHAPTER III

A System Within a System

When Rick came down to breakfast the next morning, the day was already hours old for his father, Steve Ames, Julius Weiss, Parnell Winston, and Dr. Walter Miller alias Morrison. The scientists had been closeted in the library with Steve since dawn, their talks interrupted only by Mrs. Brant serving coffee to the group. Steve, too, had remained overnight.

Barby and Scotty were around the island somewhere with Janice. Mrs.

Brant and Mrs. Morrison were in the kitchen, getting acquainted and finding that they had friends in common.

It wasn't that Rick had slept late; he was on time. Everyone else had gotten up early. Rick told himself that he was the only calm member of the family, but underneath he was a little chagrined. If he had arisen earlier, he might have been able to take part in the talks now going on in the library.

The Morrisons had been so tired from the strain of getting out of Was.h.i.+ngton undetected, and from the trip in the confined quarters of the Coast Guard cutter that they had gone to bed almost immediately.

Dr. Morrison turned out to be a tall man with a kind, tired face, steel-rimmed gla.s.ses, and a shock of curly white hair. Mrs. Morrison was a pleasant, stylish woman whose reaction was a mixture of pure pleasure at finding herself in the comfortable Brant home and embarra.s.sment at the circ.u.mstances that had forced her to impose herself on strangers. Rick had liked both the Morrisons immediately.

His reaction to Janice was favorable, too. He admitted that she was a remarkably pretty girl, as dark as Barby was fair, and of about the same height and slimness. She hadn't said a great deal, and he decided at once that she was shy. Barby had taken to her immediately, and she to Barby. The last thing Rick had heard before falling asleep was the two of them talking and giggling in the room down the hall.

He walked into the dining room, hoping he wasn't too late for breakfast, and stopped short, stifling a laugh at the sight that met his eyes.

The Morrisons' cat, whose name was Shah, was crouched on one of the dining-room chairs. Dismal was sniffing around beneath the chair, obviously looking for the cat. As Rick watched, Dismal gave up the search and walked from under the chair. Instantly he was batted on the nose from above by a paw that moved with supersonic speed. Rick laughed as Dismal gave a cry of pure frustration and headed for the kitchen at a trot. The cat had been playing, since the blow was struck with claws sheathed. If Shah had wanted to hurt the pup, raking claws could have torn deep furrows.

Rick stroked the silky fur and Shah purred hoa.r.s.ely. He hadn't had much experience with cats, but he liked this one. The Persian had a sense of humor. Rick went into the kitchen and consoled Dismal, after bidding good morning to his mother and Mrs. Morrison. The pup rolled over on his back and played dead, his only trick. The boy scratched Dismal's stomach until the pup's hind leg flailed in delighted ecstasy.

"Am I too late for breakfast?" Rick asked his mother.

"Of course not. We'll be ready in ten minutes."

Rick wandered out to the screened front porch that was the Brants'

summer living room. The ocean was calm this morning. He searched the horizon for some sign of the Coast Guard cutter. There was none, which didn't surprise him. Steve was too old a hand to attract attention to Spindrift by having a government craft waiting offsh.o.r.e.

Barby, Jan, and Scotty were walking from the long, low gray laboratory building on the southeast corner of the island, past the place where the Sky Wagon, his plane, usually was staked down. His landing strip ran along the seaward edge of the island, from the lab building to the front of the house. However, the plane still carried the pontoons with which it had been fitted for the Virgin Islands trip, and for the time being, it was drawn ash.o.r.e at Pirate's Field.

Presently the trio joined him on the porch. Jan smiled and said good morning in her soft voice. Scotty said, "I thought you were going to sleep all day."