“How about stepping up the air cooler?” Bud suggested.
“The system’s already overloaded,” Tom said. “I know it’s getting pretty uncomfortable in here, but as long as the temperature is bearable, we’d better put up with it. That’ll give us more survival time in the long run.”
Tom explained that whenever the air inside the kite was recirculated, a certain amount of oxygen was lost in the process, making the air slightly less breathable each time. Heat, too, could only be dissipated at a certain rate. Trying to cool the air too fast would make the whole cycle less efficient, and thus shorten the “safe” period in which the air would still be breathable.
“I get it,” said Bud, mopping the perspiration from his face. “In that case, how about some water?”
REPELATRON RESCUE 107
Tom hauled out the plastic “squeeze” canteen from under their seats. Each boy squirted himself a mouthful.
“Ugh!” Tom made a face. “It’s warm.”
“You said it,” Bud agreed. “Boy, could I go for an ice-cold bottle of pop right now!”
Suddenly the radio crackled. “Challenger to Tom! … Can you read me, skipper?” It was the voice of Slim Davis.
“Sure can!” said Tom eagerly, switching on his microphone. “Where are you, Slim?”
There was a moment’s pause as Slim checked his instruments. Then he replied, “We’ve logged a little over sixty thousand miles since take-off. It’ll be a while yet before we get there, but we’re on our way. How are you two holding out?”
“Okay so far,” Tom reported. “But this rig’s beginning to feel like a Turkish bath.”