Tom Swift and the Visitor From Planet X by Victor Appleton II Page A

outside-the-box genius stuff Tom’s always getting into!
    In an hour his red convertible was parked next to the old theater that now bore the sign "Church of Informatics Soul Science Fortress of Knowledge, Shopton Congregation." More discreet lettering advised that visitors, and donations, were welcome.
    Bud, using a pseudonym, had been ushered from the tastefully decorous lobby into the office of the pastor of the Fort Shopton church, who introduced himself as Speaker Scott Anderman. He was a slim, youngish man, not even thirty, with a ready smile and a visage as bland as an open face sandwich. "But I’m not gonna fall for that!" Bud snorted inwardly, seating himself before the man’s wooden desk.
    "Well now, Mr. Newton," Speaker Anderman began.
    "Oh, please call me Ike," Bud said.
    "Ike. You’re here on a quest, aren’t you— Ike?" Was there a hidden taunt in his words? The man’s empty-sky blue eyes seemed to focus on Bud’s gray ones.
    The athletic youth shifted uncomfortably. "What’s that mean? A quest?"
    "Quest. As in question. Don’t we all have questions about the world, about our place in it? About our happiness?"
    "I suppose so, sir." Bud glanced away. The guy’s trying to hypnotize me! he thought. That must be how it starts!
    Anderman nodded, and the nod seemed friendly and sympathetic, which made Bud all the more suspicious. "Your questions are your quest, Ike. You seek information. Informatics supplies what you seek."
    "That’s—great." Bud realized that he sounded less than persuaded.
    "We all began with skepticism," laughed the man gently. "Me too! But the process one goes through—called Confirmation—leads you from the world’s skepticism to the other side."
    Bud tried to keep his voice level. "The other side. That’s what you call ‘the higher plane,’ isn’t it?"
    To Bud’s surprise, Speaker Anderman looked unnervingly pleased. "I see you already know about Informatics Soul Science. Wonderful! You’re not a ‘zero-leveler,’ and we can move forward rapidly."
    "I—I did speak to someone, a friend of mine at work, who had an interest in the church. He mentioned something about... special counseling sessions?"
    "Mm-hmm. The first phase of Confirmation." Anderman leaned forward in his chair toward Bud, eyes still locked on. He said softly, "You have secrets."
    Good night, does he know who I am? "Secrets? What do you mean—Scott?"
    "We all have secrets. Secrets burden us down through life, like weights. To enter the Higher Plane, you must shed that pain. Do you see? The Confirmation Series, three weeks of daily private sessions with trained and enlightened church elders—that’s where you lay the burden aside and ready yourself for the white robes of knowledge. No more secrets, Ike. We free your soul."
    I’ll bet you do! "I think I understand," Bud said. "And then—is that when you become one of those ‘Prime Movers’ my friend told me about?"
    The man’s attitude seemed to chill as he shifted back in his chair. "This friend of yours wasn’t a very good friend of ours if he flaunted our private spiritual gifts to an outsider."
    "He never went all the way into the Church, actually. He didn’t realize—"
    "It doesn’t matter." The Speaker shook his head dismissively. "Religions all have their sacred languages and rituals. You’ll learn. We’ll provide you with better ‘secrets’ than the toxic ones you now hold within. And the new secrets will not be secrets at all, but truths. Truths are our treasures." Bud involuntarily followed Anderman’s glance toward one of the office walls. A colorful poster bore the legend: "Truths are our treasures.—Eldrich Oldmother".
    Bud said he would think about what Anderman had said. "Yes—you will," the man replied. "And then, I believe I’ll see you again."
    "Goodbye, sir."
    "Later—Ike."
    Bud turned over the odd-feeling interview in his mind as he pulled out of the parking lot. What had he learned, exactly? Only that this guy’s a