Tom Swift and His Deep Sea Hydrodome Read Free Page A

doctor and clutched his father’s hand, relieved.
    For the time being, there was nothing for Tom to do but wait and hope that further tests would disclose no hidden injuries. As the minutes dragged by into hours, the young inventor thought ruefully of the many times when he himself had come face to face with death, not only at sea, but in the desert of New Mexico, the frozen wastes of the Antarctic, and the bleakness of outer space. In his latest adventure, he had used his advanced ultrasonic cycloplane to outwit an unprincipled, avaricious scientist seeking riches in the New Guinea jungle, heedless of the cost to human life. Now Tom was reminded that his projects also put those closest to him in danger.
    But all medical signs were positive, and by late afternoon of the following day Tom and Damon Swift had returned to Shopton by means of the Sky Queen, Tom’s mammoth Flying Lab, while Slim Davis piloted the Sea Hound to its berth on Fearing Island off the coast of Georgia.
    Arriving home at last, Tom left his father in the care of his mother and sister Sandra, then drove back to Swift Enterprises. He was anxious to test the composition of the gas sample, which he had carried along with him on the Sky Queen .
    Checking into the office he shared with his father, the metal flask in hand, he was delighted to find Bud waiting for him.
    As they shared a bear hug, Tom exclaimed, "Didn’t expect to see you back till next Monday, flyboy!"
    "When Sandy phoned me about your Dad, I figured I’d had enough of rich food and little cable cars ‘climbing halfway to the stars’," replied the dark-haired youth jokingly. "Besides, I feel fine. But how’s your Dad doing?"
    Tom gave Bud the reassuring reports, and described the mystery of the undersea mountain and their exciting discovery. "Leave it to you to turn up something wild wherever you go! So if it turns out to be helium, it’s a major find? How come? Is Enterprises planning to get into the party-balloon business?"
    Grinning, Tom replied, "Helium’s valuable for quite a bit more than balloons. Nowadays liquified helium, the coldest common substance known, is used to supercool electronic circuits to improve conductivity and make them more sensitive. A plentiful source of the gas would be a real boon to scientific research, and could have big technological implications, too."
    "I see," said the young pilot thoughtfully. "And since it’s in international waters, the U.S.A. had better be the firstest with the mostest. But how in the world do you plan on tapping a gas well at the bottom of the ocean? I mean, this goes way beyond undersea oil drilling, Tom."
    "You’re right, chum. But I have a few ideas."
    "You usually do," Bud pronounced. "No, correction—you always do!"
    Tom winked and stepped over to the wall, where he touched a button. A combination worktable and drafting board slid out from the wall, silently. Tom picked up a sheet of stiff paper on which a number of sketches had been made. "Remember this?"
    Bud nodded. "Sure do. You showed it to me in the hospital—if I wasn’t just hallucinating. It’s the pressurized dome you want to set up in the city of gold, for underwater work teams to live in."
    "That’s right. I call it a hydrodome— hydro means—"
    "I know, genius boy. Water. A guy has to know Greek and Latin to work around here!" Bud took the sketch and looked it over again. The proposed structure was a round, bulging tank of metal, about sixty feet in diameter, dotted with circular portholes of the same composite of quartz and Tomasite plastic, called Tomaquartz, used in Swift undersea craft. Deep-sea researchers in protective gear along the lines of the Fat Man suits would use the hydrodome as a workspace and living area while investigating the submarine city and its environs, remaining beneath the sea for weeks or months at a time. They would come and go through an airlock, and oxygen for breathing would be extracted directly from seawater by a new