The others took their places inside the cabin.
"Good luck, son!" Mr. Swift forced a smile as he gave Tom a parting
handshake.
"Don't worry, Dad. I'll be back soon!" Tom assured him. The nature of
the trip had been described only vaguely to Mrs. Swift and Sandy in
order to keep them from worrying.
The short hop overwater to Fearing Island was soon completed. Lying just
off the Atlantic coast, Fearing had once been a barren, thumb-shaped
expanse of scrubgrass and sand dunes. Now it was the Swifts' top-secret
rocket base, tightly guarded by drone planes and radar.
As the helicopter approached its destination, Tom radioed for clearance,
then whirred down toward the landing field. The barracks, workshops, and
launching area of the base lay spread out in full view. Cargo rockets
bristled on their launching pads, along with Tom's spaceships, including
the mighty _Titan_, and the oddly shaped _Challenger_ and _Cosmic
Sailer_.
North and south, the island was fringed with docks. Here the recovery
tugs and fuel tankers were moored, as well as the Swifts' fleet of
undersea craft.
Tom had chosen a cargo-hauling jetmarine, named the _Swiftsure_. It was
a larger version of his original two-man jet sub, the _Ocean Dart_. He
had given orders the night before to have it ready for sea by morning.
By jeep and truck, Tom's group sped across the island to the dock. Exman
was quickly lowered aboard through the sub's hatch.
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