Remembering Bud’s comment about party-balloons, the young inventor smiled.
Bronson’s image nodded. "Not such a far-fetched idea, Tom—you yourself make use of buoyancy in your underwater launch system in—what’s that island called?"
"Loonaui, sir." Swift Enterprises used an aquatic lift stage to launch spacecraft to the orbiting Enterprises space station from a base in the mid-Pacific.
"On some of the future rocket and satellite launchings, we think helium balloons will be used as a booster stage. In other words, the launching platform will be raised to the outer limits of the atmosphere by means of these balloons. Gets us above the thick part of the air, you know."
"That will save fuel," Tom agreed, "but it will take immense quantities of helium if the method is widely used."
"That’s just it!" Bronson said. "We need a new source of helium in a hurry and this undersea bed could be the answer. Listen, Tom, let’s all work hand-in-glove on this. I’ll have some of our deep-sea Navy boys look the site over and do their own analysis—just a formality, you understand. Meanwhile, I’ll put together a liaison team to keep Enterprises connected to us. They’ll work with you directly and report to my office. Sound good?"
Tom groaned inwardly but replied, "That’s fine, sir." Swift Enterprises had not always had a positive experience working "hand-in-glove" with government agencies and officials.
During the ensuing week Tom applied himself to several scientific projects. The preeminent task was to adapt his hydrodome design to the necessities of longterm work at a much greater depth than anticipated. The sturdy material he had intended to use, a lightweight combination of Tomasite plastic sandwiched between layers of magtritanium alloy, proved too weak to withstand the terrific pressures found at the base of the undersea mountain. Extended over that many square yards, the dome would crumple at a touch, Tom thought glumly. But what can we use? He experimented with Tomaquartz for a time, but found that the substance could not be manufactured in the large sheets required. Guess I’ll have to rethink the overall configuration of the dome, he concluded.
To give his mind a break from the immediate problem, the young inventor turned his attention to the data he had collected on the satellite Nestria during his recent trip there in his rocket ship the Star Spear. Enjoying the freedom of movement guaranteed by his atmosphere-making machine, which had produced a livable earthlike environment on the tiny asteroid, Tom had spent several days in a cave studying the artifacts left there for him by his mysterious space friends, extraterrestrials who communicated with Earth via deep-space radio.
The main subject of Tom’s studies was a cube-shaped device of peculiar composition which appeared to function as the key component of a "gravity concentrator" affecting the entire moonlet. The cube was fastened to the cave floor by some unknown means and could not be moved; furthermore, it was impervious to x-rays and other such instrumental probing. Yet Tom had been able to study the energies that flowed around it, energies which also coursed through the veins of bright crystal that suffused the crust of Nestria. Tom had named this strange semi-metallic substance Lunite, in recognition of the satellite’s original nickname, Little Luna.
One afternoon Tom, joined by Bud, was hard at work in one of Enterprises’ shielded high-energy lab chambers, setting up a sample of Lunite in a strong viselike clamp. Above, attached to a wall, was a spherical device, black in color.
"You sure you want to do this, genius boy?" Bud asked nervously. "Last time you tried that generex machine on stuff from space, we just about dissolved like a cold remedy in a glass of water!"
"Pal, that window pane is made of ten layers of Tomaquartz with sheets of Inertite sandwiched between. I can’t believe anything could get through it!" Then Tom chuckled.