Tom Swift and the Electronic Hydrolung | Page 7

permit the craft to rise, Tom guided the Sea
Hound back to the surface. Then he reversed blade pitch for air flight
and gunned the atomic turbines. The seacopter rose steeply above the
billowing South Atlantic.
Tom radioed a terse report of their experience to the task-force
commander and in turn was told that none of the naval craft had either
sighted or picked up any sign of a strange sub.
As they streaked homeward, Chow was still fuming. "Why don't we
post a dummy sub there to scare off the varmints?"
"I'll pass the idea along to the Navy," Tom said with a grin.
Night had fallen when the searchers arrived back at Fearing Island.
Tom cleared with the tower and landed, then went by jeep to base
headquarters. He called Enterprises and learned that Bud's condition
was improved, and that Mr. Swift had returned that afternoon. He
spoke to him about the mystery sub.
"This is bad news indeed, son," Mr. Swift said, after hearing how the
attacker had defied detection. "You'd better inform Admiral Walter. He
had to fly back to Washington."

"I'll call him right away," Tom promised.
The admiral was equally disturbed when Tom succeeded in reaching
him. "We must find that missile as soon as possible--at any cost," he
said. "Tom, you Swifts have had considerable experience in undersea
dredging. Could you send a team of engineers to assist us in the work?"
"Yes, sir," the young inventor replied. "I'll assign men to the job first
thing tomorrow."
After hanging up, Tom hopped back to the mainland with Chow in a
Pigeon Special. This sleek little commercial plane was manufactured
by the Swift Construction Company in charge of Ned Newton.
Early the next morning Tom and his father drove to Enterprises, and
the young inventor plunged into the job of organizing an engineering
crew for the missile hunt. Art Wiltessa, a crack underwater specialist as
well as engineer, was placed in charge.
By noon the group had taken off for the South Atlantic in a Swift cargo
jet. A small portable model of Tom's atomic earth blaster was included
in their equipment. A jetmarine and a diving seacopter were also
dispatched from Fearing to assist in the operations.
"It's apt to be a long-drawn-out job--and dangerous," commented Mr.
Swift as he lunched with Tom in their office.
"Yes. Digging in that silt could be almost as bad as working in
quicksand."
Mr. Swift's deep-set blue eyes took on a thoughtful gleam. "Speaking
of silt, son, I've found the ideal spot for my secret deep-sea farm."
"You mean for growing those plants you use in making Tomasite?"
Tom asked.
The elder scientist nodded. Tomasite, a revolutionary plastic which Mr.
Swift had developed, possessed amazing insulating properties against

both heat and radiation. One of its secret ingredients came from certain
plants found only in Far Eastern waters. Mr. Swift hoped to transplant
them locally.
"The site is near Fearing Island--about fifty feet in depth," he added.
"You may have a tough time finding gardeners, Dad," Tom pointed out.
"Men can't work that far down for very long at one time."
"It'll be a problem," Mr. Swift conceded. He finished his coffee, then
looked up with a twinkle in his eyes. "How about figuring out a
solution for me, Tom?"
"A new kind of air lung?" Tom was intrigued!
CHAPTER IV
AERIAL ATTACK
"Yes, son," Mr. Swift went on. "What's needed is a new type of
breathing device--one that will eliminate bulky air tanks and permit a
skin diver to stay down for long periods."
"Quite an order, Dad."
Grabbing a pencil, the young inventor began sketching. In both his Fat
Man suits and his osmotic air conditioner, Tom had already perfected
ways of drawing oxygen from sea water.
"But a small gadget for skin divers," he said, "will take a fantastic job
of electronic miniaturization." After a pause he added, "It could really
speed up recovery of the Jupiter prober, though."
Lunch over, Tom hopped a jet scooter and sped off to his private
laboratory. The modernistic glass-walled structure--designed by Tom
himself--had every tool of modern scientific research, from electronic
microscope to helium cryostat.

As always, whenever he was absorbed in a new idea, Tom was eager to
get to work. "Let's see what I'm shooting for. A small container, slung
around the diver's neck?... No, too dangerous. Better hook it to his
weight belt, with a tube to his face mask."
Using a plastic foam "breadboard," Tom began experimenting with
various circuit designs. He worked through the afternoon and returned
to the problem early the next morning.
He was interrupted by a message from Art Wiltessa, reporting no luck
so far in finding the missile. Later, shortly before lunch, Tom received
another call, this time from Admiral Walter.