"What’s happened?" gulped Hank Sterling. "Jetz! Tom!" choked Bud. A swath of indicators on his board were flashing red! With a single sweep of hand he switched on the craft’s sophisticated automatic pilot system and rocketed out of his seat toward the metal stairs leading down to the bottom deck. Wisps of yellow-gray smoke were already billowing up the stairwell, and the air was tainted by the acrid smell of fried electronics. The youth was horrified by the sight that met his eyes as he leapt from the bottom step in the direction of the searchlight bay. The overhead lights, flickering dully, gave only faint illumination to a compartment thick with stinging smoke. Visibility zero! thought the copilot desperately. The searchlight bay must be on fire! Bud tensed to dash forward through the smoke. Then he drew back—a dark silhouette loomed up in the bay hatchway in front of him. As it came nearer, he made out two figures: Lethal Monica and, sagging and stumbling in the grip of his arms, Tom.
What do You think about Tom Swift And The Mystery Comet?
