Free Tom Swift and His Giant Robot by Victor Appleton II Page A

completely identical. Now that they’re finished, I’ve given them both more dignified names, stamped on their backs."
    Tom had the robots turn around and face the lab wall. On the backs of the mechanical men, the words ATOR and SERMEK were inscribed in small block letters.
    "Those names are dignified?" asked Bud doubtfully. "Sounds like basic Martian!"
    Tom explained that Ator stood for atomic robot, and Sermek was a tribute to the science of servo-mechanics. "And now, Budworth," continued Tom, "how about joining me in a game of robot tennis?"
    "Have you gone off your rocker?" Bud cried.
    Tom laughed. "Don’t worry. I’m okay. My two giants are ready for a co-ordination test. I need your help. Not scared, are you?" He turned to Sandy and Bashalli. "You two can keep score—and make sure Bud doesn’t pull any fast ones."
    "A game of tennis between two giant metal magillas! You couldn’t keep me away, genius boy!" Bud whooped.
    "But Tom," Sandy piped up, "it’s not fair! Bud hasn’t mastered the remote-controller."
    Tom grinned broadly. "It’s not as bad as you think. The relotrol computer has recorded and ‘coded’ a number of tennis games already—Arv Hanson’s been doing the recording down at the country club courts. The robots already ‘understand’ all the basic moves, so the human controller’s task is pretty easy. You can pick it up with just a few practice runs."
    The six of them, four human and two robotic, stepped out into the bright sunshine. Tom had arranged for two portable control outfits, tuned to different frequencies, to be set up at each side of a makeshift tennis court in an open space near the lab.
    "My controls are going to need some pretty fast reflexes," Bud grinned. "Score will be 6-O in my robot’s favor!"
    "You’re on!" Tom laughed as he placed his racquet in the metal fingers of Ator, his robot. He eyed the windows behind them. "If my giant overcorrects," he warned, "we’re in for some broken-window bills!"
    After some practice, awkward enough to afflict the girls with fits of giggles, the boys seemed ready to proceed.
    "Toss you for first serve," Bud called, adjusting the magnitude-and-action blending controls. Sermek took a vicious slash at the ball.
    Tom laughed. "Net ball!"
    His robot took a swing. The ball bounded back across the court. The game was on!
    The extraordinary sight of two metal automatons whacking a tennis ball, darting for rebounds, and charging the net, drew a large audience of plant workers. They cheered and whistled each time a ball was missed or a clever drive completed. Bashalli led the cheers for Tom, Sandy for Bud.
    "Brand my hoppin’ horsehide!" cried Chow Winkler. "This sure is the confoundin’est game I ever did see!"
    Tom’s robot, Ator, had trouble gauging the service line, while Bud’s kept slamming out of the court on overhand returns. The boys’ hands flew from hand control to foot-angle directors and the robots’ Herculesium muscles were constantly reversing.
    At first the giants tended to exaggerate their motions, with the result that the game was clumsy and far from professional. As the game progressed, however, the automatons learned from repeated input to the relotrols. They grew more adept and play became subtle and fine.
    Suddenly Bud shouted, "Tom, this is for the time you took over Herbert in the skit!" Sermek drove a slashing ball to the corner of the court. Tom was unable to direct his robot to return it.
    In the end, Bud’s robot won the game, which had gone to deuce five times. Tom made Ator jump the net to congratulate the winning giant and the audience roared its appreciation of the show.
    Tom was pleased with the coordination of his metal men and told Bud and the girls that few things remained to be done now before the giants would be ready for shipment to the Citadel and their tests in the fury of the reactor chamber. "In fact," he said, "I’m thinking we might fly out early tomorrow."
    At this announcement Bashalli and