Into the Abyss (Tom Swift, Young Inventor) (15 page)

When I opened my eyes, I saw my mother staring down at me, just like in my dream.

She burst into tears. They fell onto my face, wet and warm—but real!

And even though Mom was crying, she was smiling. “Oh, Tom!” she cried. “You’re alive! Thank goodness!”

“I’m … I’m alive?”

I was actually surprised, to tell you the truth. For a minute there, I was pretty sure I was dead. As it was, I was still gasping for breath.

“Dad?” I asked, still woozy and semi-hallucinating from the lack of oxygen.

My mom pointed up to the pod where the
Nestor
’s crane had just deposited the damaged
Verne-1
. Crewmen were working frantically to open the hatch. They pried it clear, and one of them peeked inside.

They’re alive!” he shouted, and a huge cheer went up from the entire crew.

Mom gave me a big hug, which I was too weak to really return. She helped me sit up, and that helped me get my bearings back.

The ship was still rocking in the choppy seas, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the waves we’d had on the way out here. Had it really been only yesterday?

Now it was Sandy’s turn to give me a hug. “Oh, Tom!” she said, “I am so jealous.”

“Huh? What do you mean, jealous?”

“You got to go to the bottom of the sea, and drive the submersible, and see all kinds of weird creatures—
and
rescue Dad! Meanwhile, I was stuck here on this nightmare of a heaving ship, blowing chunks for hours!”

“Believe me, you wouldn’t want to trade the past few hours with me.”

“Whatever. Next time, it’s my turn.”

I had to smile. “Sure thing, Sandy. You got it.”

Yo appeared, kneeling down beside me. “Hey, there,” she said, sniffing back a tear. “We were getting kind of worried about you.”

“Me? Nah, no worries,” I said, grinning. “Hey, I heard you were busy the whole time, fixing
Nestor
’s computers.”

Now it was Yo’s turn to smile. “Somebody had to do it,” she said coolly.

Bud leaned over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of me as I sat there, gradually getting my breath and strength back.

“Great job, dude,” I told him, reaching up a hand to high-five him. “You timed that cable lift just right. Another minute later and I’d have been dead, another minute sooner and I’d have been left behind on the sea bottom.”

“You could have just swam back up in that suit of yours,” Sandy said.

“No way,” I said. “I couldn’t have come up fast enough that way. My air would have run out too soon.”

My dad was being helped out of the
Verne-1
by Captain Walters. Everybody gave him a cheer, and he waved back, smiling. “At least we got one of the
seismic sensors down,” he said. “Did it send out the tsunami warning?”

“It did, sir,” Captain Walters said. “Apparently, there were no lives lost, and only moderate property damage on the Outer Banks of the Carolinas. Without the warning, though …”

Then this was all worth it,” my dad said.

That’s him—his mind is always on his mission, never on the danger to himself.

I turned back to my mom. “How did I get here?” I asked. “I think … I think I passed out while I was still underwater.”

“You did,” she told me. The crew had to send a pair of divers in to haul you out of the water and beat off those sharks.”

I closed my eyes. I had come so close to death—only seconds away, at best—that I still felt shaken.

Suddenly, a tall, athletic-looking guy with long silver hair tied back in a ponytail came up to me and shook my hand. “Well, now,” he said, “I finally get to thank you.”

Huh? Oh, now I recognized him, by the big purple bruise on his forehead. He was the guy I’d found
floating on the remains of his boat after the freak wave hit, who I’d pulled back to safety aboard the
Nestor
.

“Sure thing,” I said. “Glad you made it through.”

“I made it thanks to
you
,” he said. “Don’t think I’m going to forget that either.”

This guy looked familiar, somehow. Where had I seen his face before?

“I’m Warren Leland,” he said.

Then it hit me. Warren Leland’s face has been on the cover of every business magazine my dad’s ever brought home. He’s a multibillionaire businessman who also sails his yachts in the Americas Cup races and goes solo diving for treasure.

And I’d saved his life!

“I’d like to talk to you, young man, after this is all over, about that diving suit of yours. I think it might be a real moneymaker for my investors.”

“Um … sure,” I said, sounding like a real geek. “Sure thing.”

Then Dad came over, and we wrapped our arms around each other. Mom and Sandy joined in too—a big, Swift family-style sandwich.

“Son, you saved our lives,” he said, his chin quivering a little. The three of us—Holly, Bruce, and I—would never have made it without you.”

It’s not like my dad to get emotional—but at that moment, all of us were pretty close to losing it.

The
Verne-o
and the
Verne-1
were both trashed, and only one of the seismic sensors had been deployed.

But at least that one sensor had done its job. Besides, we still had each other.

“All right, everyone,” Captain Walters shouted, “let’s head for shore!”

“Amen to that!” Yo said. “I’ve had enough of the ocean for the next ten years!”

But wouldn’t you know it, Yo changed her mind. It was only three weeks later when she dropped in on me while I was in my underground lab at Swift Enterprises.

I was at my work table, tinkering with my brandnew wristwatch, complete with a reconstituted Q.U.l.P. I was just putting the finishing touches on the watch when Yo knocked on the lab door.

“Come in!” I said.

She tiptoed in and shut the door softly behind her. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said in a loud whisper.

“You don’t have to whisper, Yo,” I told her. “I can take a break for a few minutes.”

“Oh. Good. Is that Q.U.l.P. you’re working on?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” She just stood there, biting her lip.

“Is there something you wanted?” I asked.

“I was just wondering …. I’m going to Puerto Rico for the week with my family ….”

“Fantastic!” I said. “Sounds like a great time.”

“Yeah … but I was wondering … what’s up with that diving suit of yours?”

“Huh?”

“Is that rich dude going to buy it from you?”

“Maybe. His engineers are looking over the design, and they’re supposed to get back to me.”

“Oh. So … it’s not here?”

“What, the suit? Oh, yeah, it’s right over there, in the corner.”

Oh! I thought, like, y’know, it might be …”

“No. I just sent them the designs and a sample of the material.”

“Cuz I thought maybe I could, like, borrow it for the week? I want to do some diving—nothing really deep or anything, but, y’know … do a little treasure hunting around some of those pirate wrecks?”

I laughed. “Sure, Yo. Take it with you. Enjoy. Bring home some gold doubloons.”

“You sure?”

“Totally.”

She gave me a big dimpled smile, ran over to the corner, and scooped up the suit. It was dented in a hundred places, and you could still see the squid’s sucker marks imprinted on the material—but it would be fine for Yo’s shallow-water diving purposes.

“You’re the best, Tom,” she said. “I’ll take good care of it.”

I shook my head and smiled. I could tell she was itching to put it on and show it off to everyone in her family.

“Have a blast,” I told her. “See you when you get back.”

She was out the door before I realized that I wasn’t even going to be here when she got back. I was heading to New York—to United Nations
Headquarters, in fact. I’m going to be testing out my latest invention—an instantaneous translator. It can handle any human language, turning it into any other as fast as you can say
bonjour
.

It’s going to put a lot of translators out of business.

They’ve got motorcycles, their cases are ripped from the headlines, and they work for ATAC: American Teens Against Crime.

CRIMINALS, BEWARE: THE HARDY BOYS ARE IN YOUR TRAIL

Frank and Joe are telling all-new stories of crime danger, deatthdefying stunts, mystery, and teamwork.

Ready? Set? Fire it up!