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Updated: June 29, 2025
We'll take off as soon as I can get back to the base!" With a hasty good-by to his father, and farewells to his mother, Sandy, and Phyl by phone, Tom dashed out of the building. He sped to Arv Hanson's workshop, and the new hydrolung suits were loaded onto a small pickup truck and taken to the airfield. While flying back to Fearing Island in a helijet, Tom received a radio flash from his father.
"Right if I can do it." After that job, Tom added, he hoped to adapt his own antidetection methods to make hydrolung wearers safe from underwater detection. "And if the Jupiter prober hasn't been found by that time, Bud, I'm going to request the Navy to let us take over the search alone." Bud gave a whistle of excitement at the possibility of new undersea adventures ahead. "Count me in, pal!"
"But first I must figure out a way to make our own craft invisible, so to speak. It's the only way to protect our American crews, Chow, if we hope to do any secret digging for that lost missile." "Want another suggestion, skipper?" Bud put in. "This one is about the hydrolung." "Sure. Speak up." "How about putting some sort of communications system into our hydrolung gear?
"Go get your swim trunks, fly boy. Let's give it a tryout in the tank." "Swell idea! Be back in a jiff!" After a quick change, the boys strapped on the new hydrolung equipment. Before adjusting his face mask, Tom mentioned that he had inserted scrambling circuits into the communicators to foil any enemy eavesdroppers.
When Tom told him about the dolphins, he too burst into laughter. The porpoises rose into view and convoyed the launch all the way back to the island. The boys were so jubilant over the performance of the new hydrolung gear that Tom decided to press his search for the Brungarian sea-prowlers immediately. Soon after lunch they took off in the Sea Hound and headed for the South Atlantic.
"Just as we thought!" he snarled. "A couple of low-down Brungarian rebels! And up to their usual amateurish spy stunts!" The raiders' eyes blazed, but they maintained silence. Both, however, kept darting looks of keen interest at the Americans' hydrolung gear.
Then he turned over the controls to Zimby and began stripping down to don a hydrolung suit. "Gallopin' guppies! What're you aimin' to do?" Chow exploded. "Go out and look for that missile," Tom said calmly. "It's what we came for." "Are you loco, boss? What about that sub Bud just spotted? Mebbe it's Mirov's bunch!" Tom refused to be dissuaded.
The hookup would be powered by the solar battery in the hydrolung power unit, by connecting wires through the breathing tube. "That's neat, Tom," Bud said. "Need any help?" "You can mold us a pair of new face masks big enough to cover the earphones," Tom suggested.
Tom and Bud donned their hydrolung gear and went over the side, each clutching containers of the space plants. Reaching bottom, they glided about in the shadowy green water, embedding the plants at far-spaced intervals. The Tomasite-producing plants had been almost completely devoured. A few fish were darting about, but they swam off quickly at the boys' approach.
The next morning he eagerly tackled the job of adding sonar protection and sonar detection features to his electronic hydrolung. What an amazing fish man the wearer would be, Tom thought, if his project succeeded!
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