MR. BASS'S PLANETOID
by Eleanor Cameron
No. 3 in the Mushroom Planet series
The Mushroom Planet series by Eleanor Cameron:
1 The Wonderful Flight to the Mushroom Planet, 1954
2 Stowaway to the Mushroom Planet, 1956
3 Mr. Bass's Planetoid, 1958
4 The Terrible Churnadryne, 1959
5 A Mystery for Mr. Bass, 1960
6 Time and Mr. Bass, 1967
Illustrated by LOUIS DARLING
An Atlantic Monthly Press Book LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
BOSTON • TORONTO
COPYRIGHT, ©, 1958, BY ELEANOR CAMERON
ALL RIGHTS RESBRVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK
MAY BE REPRODUCED IN ANY FORM WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NO. 58-5174
ATLANTIC-LITTLE, BROWN BOOKS
ARE PUBLISHED BY LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
Published simultaneously in Canada by Little, Brown &• Company {Canada) Limited
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
CONTENTS
Part One: The Problem
1 The Phone Call
2 A Ruined Dinner
3 SOS to Basidium
4 Mr. Theo Has a Hunch
5 A Gift from Out of Space
6 The Search
7 Dr. Topman Speaks Too Soon
8 Prewytt Brumblydge Begins
9 It's in the Bag
10 The Enemy within the Gates
11 The Most Dangerous Question
12 The Problem
Part Two: The Chase
13 The Detectives
14 Like a Little Swiss Watch!
15 The "Pheep" Fails
16 The Pit of Blackness
17 The Long Search
18 Of All People on Earth
19 A Momentous Decision
20 "When I Was a Boy in Aberystwyth -"
21 Waiting
22 Over the Gray Wastes
23 A Warning Voice
24 The Chasm
Part Three: The Return
25 A Most Unexpected Visitor
26 Of Course It Worked
27 Mr. Brumblydge Takes a Test
28 Only the Very Best Mushrooms
This book is lovingly dedicated to you, Mother,
who asked me a long time ago
to write stories for children
PART ONE
The Problem
CHAPTER 1
The Phone Call
They were all sitting around the dining room table - Dr. and Mrs. Topman and David, and David's friend Chuck - talking about that extraordinary person whose name was Prewytt Brumblydge.
"Certainly," Mrs. Topman was saying, handing a plate of hot biscuits to Chuck and a bowl of chicken gravy to her husband, "it isn't for Prewytt Brumblydge to take the risk of unraveling the world. I certainly don't want to be unraveled - not yet, anyway. Oh, but," she said, unfolding her napkin, "a contraption no bigger than a washing machine to do that - what poppycock, isn't it? Then his name for it - Brumblitron!" and she burst out laughing.
However, just as she laughed, the phone rang.
They all remembered that, afterwards: how, the minute she laughed in amusement at Mr. Brum-blydge's Brumblitron, the phone rang. And they all
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said later, when everything began happening at once, that it had startled them and they couldn't have told why. After all, Dr. Topman, who was a family doctor, was used to being called at any hour of the day or night.
"I suppose it's for me," he sighed, and got up to answer.
The telephone was in the hall right outside the dining room so that it was easy to hear everything that was being said. And now what a very curious conversation began to take place!
"Hello," said Dr. Topman in his kind, quiet voice. And then in a rather more urgent tone: "Hello? Hello? . . . It's long distance," he said, turning and glancing in at them where they sat in a circle under the cone of light over the dining table. "There seems to be some mix-up." Then he turned back again. "No," he said, "no, this isn't Tyco Bass. This is Dr. Frank Topman. Who, did you say?" And he sounded as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Dr. Frobisher! Why, this is a surprise. We were just speaking about -"
"Dr. Frobisher!" cried Chuck in the most tremendous excitement, shoving back his chair so suddenly he almost knocked it over. "The director of San Julian Observatory! That's where Prewytt Brum-blydge is!"
4
"Dad, could I -"
"David, be quiet! Sit down - your father won't be able to hear a word."
David sat, but looked as if he would burst, while Dr. Topman waved frantically for quiet and Chuck
5
stared at Dr. Topman's back as if he too would explode.
"Who, did you say?" Dr. Topman was asking. "I didn't quite . . . Oh, Prewytt Brumblydgel You mean he's . . ." And then there was a long silence. And finally, when Dr. Topman spoke again, he sounded dazed. "But I'm afraid that's impossible, Dr. Frobisher - impossible. That is, right now." Another silence, and then: "Well yes," he said in the strangest tone imaginable. "Yes, there is someone who might be able to help you - in fact two people; but I can't promise anything. They're my son, David, and his friend, Chuck; but, as I said, I can't promise anything. . . . Yes, yes, I think so. . . . Well, he could try. Would you like to speak to him?" Another silence, and then: "All right, Dr. Frobisher, just a moment."
Now Dr. Topman put down the receiver, turned, and came slowly into the dining room. He studied them all for the fraction of a second with a puzzled look on his face as though he couldn't for the life of him think what was going to happen next.
"Dr. Frobisher wants to speak to you, David," he said. "He needs your help. He says he must get in touch with Tyco Bass at once, because Prewytt Brumblydge has disappeared and taken all his papers with him - everything." 6
For a moment nobody moved or spoke.
Then David got up from the table, stumbling in his haste. And his hand, as he picked up the receiver, was cold.
"Hello, Dr. Frobisher?" he said in a rough, uncertain tone that startled even himself.
"Yes," said the firm voice at the other end. "Yes, I am very sorry to be calling you like this right at dinnertime, David, but I really did not know what else to do. You see, I absolutely must get in touch with Tyco Bass, and when I called his number, the one I used to call all the time, I was put onto your line when there was no answer there. What on earth has happened to him?"
"Why, you see, Dr. Frobisher -" began David, his mind spinning, "you see Mr. Bass blew away - or that is, he - he - "
"He WHAT!" cried Dr. Frobisher, his voice rising in stunned amazement.
"I mean - it's just a way we had of talking," went on David in desperation. "Really, he's gone on an awfully long journey. And because he left his house and his observatory for us to take care of, the telephone company switches Mr. Bass's calls onto our line. And I just don't see, Dr. Frobisher, how we can possibly get in touch with him now -"
7
"You mean, David, that there is absolutely no way that you know of for Tyco Bass to be reached?"
"Well - I'm not just . . ," stumbled David. "Look, let me think a minute, will you, Dr. Fro-bisher?"
"Certainly. Perhaps that would be the best idea. But please try to think as quickly as possible. This is a long-distance call and the matter is urgent - most urgent!" Now Dr. Frobisher was silent, but David could positively feel the waiting going on at the other end of the line.
Mr. Bass, he thought - Mr. Bass, where are you? And he saw him: his dear friend Tyco, with his large, almost bald head, his small face and enormous, kindly eyes. He it was who had sent the two boys off on their first journey to Basidium, the Mushroom Planet, which Tyco Bass himself had discovered. Nobody else in the whole world had any knowledge of it besides its discoverer and Mr. Theo Bass (who now lived there), and Chuck and David and their families. Tyco had fixed up their space ship with everything it needed for the flight: a small rocket motor, an oxygen urn, tanks filled with a fuel into which he had put a remarkable creation of his, atomic tritetramethylbenzacarbonethylene, and had painted both the inside and outside of the ship
8
with a liquid silicon sealer and protector against the dangerous rays of the sun.
How am I to get in touch with him? David asked himself. How can I possibly . . . ? Then the word signal flashed into his mind. Of course! He and Chuck would have to signal Mr. Theo on Basidium, and ask him if he knew where Tyco was. They would have to go to Mr. Bass's house and signal at once.
"Dr. Frobisher, I'm going to try to get hold of the only person I know who may be able to tell us where Mr. Bass has gone. Now, as soon as I've -"
"Person? What person?" demanded Dr. Frobisher anxiously.
"Well, he's a cousin of Mr. Bass's, and his name's Theodosius. Chuck and I'll have to go over to Thallo Street and -"
"Fine! Please do! Now did Tyco Bass keep a diary, any sort of notebook in which he put down his doings, his observations, anything that might. . . ?"
"Yes, Dr. Frobisher, he had a notebook he called Random Jottings."
"NO!" hissed Chuck fiercely behind his back. "NO - don't tell him!"
"But it's in his own - "
"Good! Good!" cried Dr. Frobisher in triumph.
"Now, I feel we are getting somewhere. This notebook, now - these Random Jottings - I must see them. They may speak of his plans, of this trip he's taken. There may be some mention of a certain object which I absolutely must have - "
"Oh, but, Dr. Frobisher, it's not just a diary exactly. It's all about his inventions too. And nobody can read it; it's in his own private language - "
"Nobody can read it? Confound it, anyway! Well, we shall not lose heart. Now first of all, with your and your friend's permission, David, I really feel that the house must be searched from top to bottom for that object I mentioned. As it is quite necessary that I find it before anyone else can get hold of it, there is not a moment to be lost. So in that case -"
"But, Dr. Frobisher - "
"It is now," rolled on Dr. Frobisher's large, firm voice, "it is now, by my watch, twenty-five minutes of seven. If I leave immediately, I should arrive in Pacific Grove in about an hour and a half. Could I meet you at Tyco Bass's house?"
"Why, yes, Dr. Frobisher. Chuck and I'll be over there. We'll be trying to get hold of Mr. Bass's cousin, remember, and maybe Mother and Dad -"
"Fine, fine! Then I shall be seeing you shortly. You may expect me at eight. I have been at 5 Thallo
10
Street before, but if you could just leave the porch light on, that would be helpful. Good-by."
There was a click at the other end, and that was all.
11
CHAPTER
A Ruined Dinner
david, exhausted, hung up the receiver and went back into the dininti room.
O
"Dr. Frobisher's coming to Pacific Grove right away. He's driving down from San Julian and he wants to meet us at Mr. Bass's house at eight - precisely."
"Why, then, it must be terribly important," exclaimed Mrs. Topman, her eves shining.
"Yes, but he says he wants to search Mr. Bass's house!" wailed David. "He wants to search it from top to bottom for some sort of terribly important 'object' he needs. And he even wants to see the Random Jottings!"
"Well, what did you tell him about them for?" shouted Chuck angrily. "What a dumb thing to do!"
"But I couldn't think fast enough," shouted back David in a fury. "And you wouldn't have either, smarty, with Dr. Frobisher shooting questions at you one right after the other. But anyhow, if we can't 12
read Mr. Bass's jottings, then he won't be able to, either."
"Yes, but what about the safe up in Mr. Bass's observatory?" demanded Chuck, his eyes blazing. "We'll have to clear it out, that's what. Mr. Bass said absolutely no one but us was to know about the Stroboscopic Polarizing Filter, because then the whole world would find out about Basidium. And he said that was to be a dead secret. Why, if Dr. Frobisher ever sees the filter, he'll know enough right away to clamp it on the telescope, and then he'll spot Basidium, and we'll be sunk and all the Mushroom People'll be sunk - and it'll be your fault!"
David flopped miserably into his chair, feeling he couldn't possibly have been stupider. And yet Dr. Frobisher had overwhelmed him.
"Oh, Chuck, everything will straighten out," said Mrs. Topman. "We'll deal with all that when Dr. Frobisher gets here. But now about this Prewytt Brumblydge, Frank . . . what made Dr. Frobisher think his disappearance was anything to be worried about?"
"Well, Dr. Frobisher told me on the phone that he had asked Prewytt Brumblydge to give up the Brumblitron entirely. At first Brumblydge said this was a terrible thing to ask, but then after thinking
13
it over for a long time he finally promised that at least he would ask Tyco Bass's opinion first as to whether it was safe to go ahead or not.
"Then last night, quite late, Brumblydge just packed up his bags and took off. His landlady down in San Julian said he scrummaged around in his room at a terrible rate, packing up books and papers and clothing as if he were going to be away for a long time. And when she asked him what he was up to, all he said was that he would be back. But nobody knows where he's gone!"
"But, Dad, would Mr. Brumblydge run the risk of blowing up anybody but himself?"
"I'm sure he wouldn't - knowingly. No, the whole trouble is that Dr. Frobisher says there could be a chain reaction - and Prewytt Brumblydge, who has worked it all out on paper, says there could not. He says the only thing that could happen is that he himself might be blown up, and he's willing to take the risk."
"Think of that!" murmured Mrs. Topman.
David picked up the newspaper and stared at Prewytt Brumblydge's picture at the top of the column telling about his Brumblitron.
What large, bright eyes he had, and so cheerful did he appear that even his snub nose and small, upstanding ears seemed to express assurance. He 14
had a very high forehead, which was certainly to be expected. But then he had a round face and, under his chin, a little bow tie as neat as could be, which somehow offset that great forehead of his so that you weren't sure just what to make of him. He looked, said Mrs. Topman, like a small boy who has just thought up the most stupendous idea in the world, which perhaps he had.
"But what is this Brumblitron exactly, Dr. Topman?" asked Chuck.
"Well, it says here," answered Dr. Topman, running his finger down the column, "that when Mr. Brumblydge builds it, it will be a small black box, terribly heavy, sheathed with lead. And from this black box will go a great many wires, up to a huge saucer-shaped antenna netted like a cobweb. The cobweb will pluck certain rays out of the air and send them down into the black box to produce enormous quantities of energy."
" 'B-rays,' it said, didn't it?"
"Yes, and they're rather like cosmic rays. At least, when cosmic rays smash into our atmosphere from outer space, they break up, and part of the breaking up results in B-rays. Nobody knows much about them but Mr. Brumblydge, which is why he believes Dr. Frobisher is wrong about the possibility of an explosion. Because the action of B-rays is en-
15
tirely different from any other kind of action. Brum-blydge says, 'When I publish my findings, whole new realms of knowledge about light and energy will be opened up/ Then the article goes on to say that some scientists predict he will take his place beside Newton and Galileo and Einsteinl"
"Gee-whillikers!" said Chuck.
"But, Dad, why does Dr. Frobisher think the Brumblitron will explode?"
"Because," replied Dr. Topman, "hidden away in the little black box will be an unknown metal, a mysterious new substance that the B-rays will work on to produce energy. And Dr. Frobisher thinks that, just as cadmium is necessary to control the energy in an atomic furnace, so some sort of control is necessary in the Brumblitron. Otherwise a chain reaction might be started which would instantly unravel the world."
Now, at these words, David suddenly imagined a great burst of light between the orbits of Mars and Venus, and that was the earth disintegrating; and a medium-sized burst of light, which was the moon disintegrating; and a very tiny burst of light - and that was the end of Basidium!
"But what a funny way to say it," put in Chuck. "How could the world unravel?"
David stared at the table. For it was turning, in 16
this instant, into a mass of dancing particles, as though insects hummed in a net. Those particles were atoms, tiny blurs of energy that were knit together into the wood of the table; there it was (David blinked), hard to the touch, yet really a collection of infinitely small spinning worlds of furious activity. Think of that! Everything - salt, sugar, vinegar, milk, metal, glass, wood or flesh - everything you could see or smell or touch was made of atoms, blurs of energy knit together into whatever you were seeing or smelling or touching.
And Mr. Brumblydge's Brumblitron - if it went
out of control - might unknit all this; energy would be released all over the place, and the world would light up like a nova, or new star, and then disappear completely.
"But how, Dad?" exclaimed David in wonder. "How could it - what would happen?"
"Well, atoms split, you see," explained Dr. Top-man, "if you bombard them with enough force. And if you get one splitting atom to split another, which splits still another, and another, and so on, till billions of atoms go on splitting each other like strings of firecrackers - why, then you have a chain reaction."
David leaped up.
"Chuck, maybe everything depends on us - in a way. I mean, if Dr. Frobisher thinks nobody but Mr. Bass can help him, then it's up to us to find Mr. Bass. Come on, let's get over to the observatory right away. I promised we'd signal Mr. Theo before Dr. Frobisher gets there."
"Oh, but David - Chuck - your dinner!" cried Mrs. Topman in exasperation as the two boys raced down the hall.
"Mrs. Topman, we haven't got time to eat!" called back Chuck.
"We've got so much to do, Mom. And you be sure and come on over with Dad to Mr. Bass's the same 18
time as Dr. Frobisher. Eight o'clock, remember!" The front door banged.
"Oh, Frank," cried poor Mrs. Topman. "Really, it's just one thing after another. First, that foolish Horatio Q. Peabody crashing into the ocean only last night with the boys' space ship, then having to be rescued and dried off and loaned clothing and put on the train. And now - Prewytt Brumblydge. Of all the ridiculous names." But then she saw that her husband hadn't been listening to a single word.
"Annabelle," Dr. Topman said, getting up hastily from the table, "I'd better go too. I really ought to look in on old Mrs. Dunstable, and if I go now I can get through and be back by eight o'clock. So I might just as well run the boys over to Mr. Bass's." By this time he was out in the hall, and she heard him snatch up his doctor's bag. "I'll be back to pick you up - " Then for a second time the front door banged.
"Well!" was all she could say. And she stared furiously at those three deserted plates with her delicious dinner going to waste on them.
19
SOS to Basidium
ur. topman saw two figures hurrying down the block through patches of darkness and street light. One was square and solid, and that was Chuck, and the other was taller and slimmer, and that was David. He picked them up, and while they drove along Chuck talked sixty to the dozen about how they were going to signal Mr. Theo and exactly how it must be done.
But David was thinking.
"You know, Chuck, the most important thing of all is to get our space ship fixed up - "
"That old Horatio," interrupted Chuck hotly. "If it hadn't been for him! He has to blast off in our ship, all by himself, not knowing a single thing about what vector to take or how to set the controls; then after being gone for a whole month, he plunges smack into the ocean with it - "
"All right, but it's done, Chuck. Now we've got to
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...
allforjesus2001