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It was a painful business, but nothing to be compared to the pain produced by the "prober." They even tried to shave the hair from the affected spot. He bore it as long as he could. But it was too much. His left side shook and trembled. It was too terrible to begin to describe. "It's no good," he said, "it's more than you can expect any one to put up with. You'll have to stop it."
Grabbing a pencil, the young inventor began sketching. In both his Fat Man suits and his osmotic air conditioner, Tom had already perfected ways of drawing oxygen from sea water. "But a small gadget for skin divers," he said, "will take a fantastic job of electronic miniaturization." After a pause he added, "It could really speed up recovery of the Jupiter prober, though."
"How come you mentioned the Jupiter prober, skipper? Do you think those hijackers were after information?" Tom shrugged. "I'm wondering myself, Bud. If they were, it could mean our enemy hasn't found it yet!" When they arrived at the experimental station, Tom made a full report to Harlan Ames, the slim, dark-haired security chief. Ames listened thoughtfully but was as baffled as Tom.
"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!"
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