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Updated: May 7, 2025
Soon after lunch, Tom, Bud, and Arv took off for Fearing Island. When they arrived at the base, the plastic coating with its myriad tiny "mikes" and "speakers" was speedily applied to a jetmarine under Arv's supervision. Tom, meanwhile, wired the control unit and also installed the analyzer sonar in the Sea Hound. "Want to be 'It' for another underwater game of hide-and-seek?"
'Na, yer can't do thet now; it's bigamy, an' the cop tikes yer, an' yer gits twelve months' 'ard for it. 'But swop me bob, Liza, I can't go on like this. Yer knows the missus well, there ain't no bloomin' doubt abaht it, she knows as you an' me are carryin' on, an' she mikes no bones abaht lettin' me see it. 'She don't do thet?
Here I am, eating my heart out with longing to know whether good old Siwash has dusted off half a township with Muggledorfer again, and what do I get to read? Four yards of Gale; five yards of Jarhard; two yards of Ohell; and a page of Quincetown, Hardmouth, Jamhurst, Saint Mikes, Holy Moses College and the Connecticut Institute of Etymology.
"Happy Christmas," William murmured politely. "Sime to you an' many of them. 'Ow are you, Missus? Kid looked arter you all right? That's right. Oh, I sye! Where's the grub come from? Fair mikes me mouth water. I 'aven't seen nuffin' like this not fer some time!" There was a torrent of explanations, everyone talking at once. He gave a loud guffaw at the end.
I was aht lite last night. 'Were yer? 'Me an' 'Arry went ter see the ply. Oh, Liza, it's simply spiffin'! I've never see sich a good ply in my life. Lor'! Why, it mikes yer blood run cold: they 'ang a man on the stige; oh, it mide me creep all over!
"And if you do," the other resumed, falling into step with him, "I'll bust you right where you're thickest." "Eh?" "I'll bust you wide open. Oh, me 'n' that gal in the leather frame had a long talk while I was sick in St. Mikes, and she asked me to keep you in the middle of the trail. Well, I'm the little guy that can do it." "Bill!" Evan Thomas's eyes were twinkling.
I 'aven't got any father, no more'n you 'ave, so I can feel fur you. Your ma 'as to do typewritin'. Mine does charrin'. It's much the sime thing." "Is it?" asked Rosemary. "Angel doesn't like typewriting so very well. It makes her shoulder ache, but it isn't that she minds. It's not having enough work to do." "Bless your hinnercent 'eart, charrin' mikes you ache all over!
In television shows he had directed the firing of weapons shooting blank charges cut to a minimum so they wouldn't blast the mikes. He knew what motions to go through, but nothing else. They did not explore in the same direction as their first excursion.
He hastily switched on his mike. "Okay, hold your fire! I guess we have no choice!" The jet turned back on its westerly course, and Tom followed obediently. Meanwhile, Bud had warmed up the other radio and contacted Enterprises. Tom switched mikes long enough to report their position, course, and speed, adding: "Tell Security to alert Vignall Air Force Base pronto!"
We absorb all sonar impulses that hit the ship and transmit them out the opposite side of the hull, instead of letting a ping bounce back and show up on the sonarscope of any hostile sub on the lookout for us." Most of the job, he went on, would be tedious detail work. It would consist of attaching hundreds of mikes and speakers all over the hull to pick up and transmit the sonar pulses.
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