“Say, what are those things?” he asked.
When Tom told him, Doc was amazed. “Those look like electroencephalograms!” he declared.
“You mean like graphs of human brain waves?”
“They sure do. That one there, for instance, looks just like a P-type alpha-wave pattern.”
Tom’s eyes sparked with interest at this odd coincidence. Was his hunch about life on the Green Orb right, after all? Did its radio waves indicate some human-type intelligence?
“Before we get sidetracked, though,” Doc said, Q 33
“I just had a call from the Fernwood Hospital.”
Tom’s face clouded. “About that workman who fell off the sign platform? How is he, Doc?”
“Out of his coma, but the fall must have caused a brain injury. He can’t speak, and they say he seems terrified of something.”
Tom frowned. “They have no idea why?”
“None. But that’s not all, skipper. About an hour ago he scrawled a message, asking to see Tom Swift. That’s why the hospital called.”
Tom glanced at his wristwatch. “Could we still get in to see him?”
Doc nodded. “If we can get there fast enough. Visiting hours are till nine o’clock.”
“Let’s go then. We’ll take an atomicar.”
The sleek, bubble-domed vehicle, another of Tom’s inventions, carried an atomic capsule which powered a small electric motor at each wheel for ordinary road travel. It also had a repelatron lifter and air jet for flying.
Tom and Doc took off from Enterprises and sped eastward. Soon after eight-thirty their atomicar glided down onto the hospital parking lot. At the reception desk in the lobby they were told that the patient’s room was on the third floor.
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