“Right-but that day is a long way off, I hope,” the young inventor added with a chuckle.
Presently Tom excused himself and Bud so that they could don their hydrolung suits. Harlan Ames, Enterprises’ lean, dark-haired security chief, accompanied the boys out of the base’s main building and climbed into a jeep with them.
“Neat job you did, skipper, fielding all those questions,” Ames remarked as they sped to Tom’s island laboratory.
“I still wish we could have skipped all the publicity,” the young inventor said.
“So do I.” Ames added dryly, “You’re hard enough to guard without broadcasting any plans.”
Fearing Island-a bleak, sandy dot off the Atlantic coast-had been converted by the Swifts into America’s first spaceport. Its launching area bristled with skyscraper-tall rockets, including Tom’s pioneering Star Spear. The island also served as a
4 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
submarine base for his diving seacopters and jet-marines.
Arriving at his laboratory, Tom strode to a shelf laden with chemicals and electronic equipment, uncorked a bottle of pills, and shook out three apiece for himself and Bud.
“Our final dose of space vitamins.”
‘Tour dad and Doc Simpson really gave skin diving a big scientific assist when they concocted these from those outer space plants,” Bud said gratefully.
“We hope so-but the real test of their effectiveness will be our days of underwater life,” Tom replied. “On shorter dunkings, they’ve done a great job of protecting our body tissues from antiosmosis troubles.”
“Down the hatch!” Bud gulped a swallow of water. “Okay-let’s get into our rigs!”
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