“I’m afraid that leaves things wide open for Dansitt, Chilcote, and the others,” Tom said worriedly. “Dad, I think they’re still around Spaniel Island. I’m going to get the jetmarine into the ocean right away and rescue Uncle Ned, even if I never do anything else!”
“Hold on, son! I promised your mother you wouldn’t take off until you had perfected your escape suit. How about it?”
ESCAPE SUITS 77
Tom smiled. “I’ve been working on that as a secret project. Bud has dubbed the suit the Fat Man.”
Tom briefly outlined the principal features of the metal Fat Man. The body of it was egg-shaped and was five feet in diameter at the center. Inside an operator’s seat had been built, surrounded by a number of instruments. There was also a quartz vision plate. This window would serve as entrance to the Fat Man.
Tom pointed out that the suit was propelled by air pressure and was equipped with small ballast tanks which would enable it to be manipulated like a tiny submarine. Two such Fat Men were to be installed in the jetmarine next to the decompression chamber, which had been designed to be opened either from the inside or the outside.
Mr. Swift listened intently as Tom continued, “But my main innovation, Dad, consists of the Fat Man’s pantograph arms and legs. Hands and feet, too. I work them on button controls from inside. They’re almost human.”
The elder inventor raised his eyebrows. “How do you keep this gimmick from falling over?”
“Gyroscope!” Tom replied. “An automatic balancing brain.”
“I’m convinced,” Mr. Swift conceded. “But has it been tested with anyone inside?”