The magic island of Euclidia is a weird place to discover, a difficult place to escape from,
and now it seems that it's going to prove an even harder job to stay away from it.
Jelly and Joan, Mrs. Gregory, and Captain Bradford stole one of the Euclidean submarines,
and with Joan at the control, they raced away from the island in safety.
Now they are nearly 400 miles from Euclidia, and that should be a safe enough distance
from anywhere.
But things move fast, the G-47 and his scientists.
We find Captain Bradford at the controls in the central section of the submarine,
with Mrs. Gregory at his side.
A strange sound had just reached their ears.
The submarine hesitates, then is tossed about as if a heavy shell had exploded near it,
and from the stern section, Joan screams at the captain to dive.
The submarine is being attacked.
We're diving, Tex.
You must have moved the right lever.
Looks like it, but we don't seem to be going down very fast.
Jerry and Joan are rushing up here from the stern, and Joan will know what to do.
I pulled this thing just as she told me.
You're doing everything that can be done, Captain Bradford.
But we're not diving very fast.
I thought you said this thing could dive like a fish.
Under proper conditions, these submarines will dive rapidly.
What's the matter, Joan? What's happening?
Euclidean magnetic bombs.
Magnetic bombs? What are they?
I will explain later. We must reach a greater depth at once.
I did everything you told me to, Joan, but we're sure going down might be slow.
Our danger is also increasing.
Those magnetic bombs are finding our range.
Let me have the controls, Captain.
Go to it, Joan.
Can I help you?
Yes, remain out of my way.
Okay.
I will use the emergency jets.
All of you must hold firmly to the arms of your steel chairs.
The vibration may be sufficient to break the ship in half, but we must try it.
Hold your stations.
Now we're really diving.
Our speed must be terrific.
It feels almost like a power dive in a plane.
I think we will gain our freedom now.
This rate of descent will rapidly put us beyond reach of the magnetic bombs.
I could get seasick awfully easy.
I don't blame you, Jerry.
This wing's standard of Joan, Captain.
We are nearly free from the effect of the bombs.
In a few seconds, I will be able to reduce the speed.
Are we all right now?
I think there is no further danger from those magnetic depth charges.
However, I will continue our descent more gradually until we reach a depth of 3,000 feet.
We've got to go down over half a mile to be sure of losing those attackers.
Yes, Captain.
They were not in a submarine, were they?
No, Mother.
A Euclidean plane flying over us.
And they dropped those bombs from a plane?
Precisely.
But the explosions didn't do us any damage.
Except to rock the boat around a little, why go so deep?
Those are magnetic bombs, and their action is purely magnetic.
Had we remained longer at that depth, the pull of those release charges
would have paralyzed this submarine completely.
And naturally, that would have placed us at the absolute mercy of anyone who wanted to reach us.
But Joan, I don't understand that at all.
How could a bomb exploding in the water generate enough magnetic force to harm a 100-foot submarine?
Those bombs contain a charge of chemical which, when mixed with salt water,
produces a magnetic field in the water, a field with a large radius.
And the power is sufficient to render every instrument, every control on this boat useless
for a considerable period of time.
Boy, that's a new one.
It certainly is, Jerry.
I can imagine how it might work.
But one thing that isn't clear to me, Joan, any solution released in a body of water as large as the ocean
will become diluted to the point of uselessness almost at once.
That is true, Captain, but paralyzed instruments, magnetized controls, and helpless submarines
do not return to normal in an instant.
I can't think of a more terrible threat, a worse danger than a submarine without instruments, power, or controls.
Well, if they were going to capture us, well, they'd have to hang around the air dropping bombs
until we got ready to surrender.
That wouldn't give these Euclideans much trouble, would it, Joan?
Not when you remember that a Euclidean plane could easily afford to cruise 100 hours over our position
and still have sufficient fuel to return to Euclidia from our present position.
I'm sure it wouldn't take 100 hours or half that long for me to be ready to give up,
drifting along in eight tathoms of water, helpless.
Oh, no, Joan, I'd be ready to meet their terms long before the 100 hours was up.
Yeah, that wouldn't be so good.
Now, if that magnetism really got hold of us, we couldn't do anything, huh, Joan?
Not a thing.
The oxygen jets would be paralyzed and our air supply soon exhausted.
The emergency escape locks would not operate, and we could not leave the ship.
There would be only one thing to do.
Yes, I know what that would be, surrender.
I don't see how we could even do that.
If we can't leave the sub or get a message out of here, how could we let our captain know we were ready to give up?
How could we get to the surface to surrender?
There is one thing on board not affected by magnetism, our compressed air supply.
Our only resort would be to fill the space between the inner and outer shells of the submarine with compressed air
and float to the surface as the water was driven out of the stabilizing channels.
Even then, we could not leave of our own will.
It would be necessary for our captors to release us from without.
And now, Joan, will we be able to proceed toward home at a lower level?
To be sure, Mother, though our progress will be comparatively slow.
Just how slow do you call comparatively?
At a depth of 3,000 feet, the highest speed we may maintain consistently will be 11 knots.
11 knots at a depth of over half a mile?
I do not hope to exceed that.
I shouldn't think you would.
Golly, whiskers, 11 knots under a half a mile of water?
Well, our submarines think they're doing all right if they make 11 knots any time.
I am confident we may plan on continuing at that speed.
That's very wonderful, Joan, and certainly surpasses anything we'd ever dreamed of at home.
But at that speed, will we be able to reach Los Angeles on our present supply of food and fuel?
I was wondering about that.
We will have more than enough fuel and food enough for a much longer time.
Well, say, now that we're talking about food,
and it looks like we might get a chance to eat a little without being shot at,
how about having our dinner?
Are you hungry, Jerry?
Well, if I'm not, I'm sure mixed up in my feelings.
We should not need more food at this time.
Oh, what's the matter?
You're afraid these Euclidean pills will make us too fat?
We had sufficient food for a definite number of hours.
It is not time for the next meal.
Never mind what the clock says.
My stomach is a lot more apt to be right about my being hungry.
Yes, I'm going to add my voice to yours, Jerry.
I could stand something to eat.
Well, if everyone else feels that way, I'll admit a huge appetite.
Looks like you'll just have to sit around and watch the rest of us eat, Joan.
I shall do nothing of the sort.
You will open a vial labeled S4, Jerry.
S4? What's the S4?
Oh, Jerry, what a horrible pun.
Didn't you like it?
It was pretty bad, son.
A more completely descriptive adjective would be atrocious.
Okay, if you don't like my puns, I'll eat all four of the pills,
and none of you will get any fried chicken.
Do you remember where you got the last meal, Jerry?
Oh, yeah, right out of here.
It sounds funny when you call a little bottle of four pills a meal.
They seem to satisfy us before, though, Jerry.
Jerry knows the food is satisfactory.
He is merely exercising his talents for discussion.
I believe you've got his number, Joan.
Number? What is your number, Jerry?
Oh, never mind.
Well, here's a little bottle labeled S4.
I'd like to ask what that label means, but, uh,
I don't want to run into any plans, as Jerry did.
The letter S designates sunset, or time for the evening meal,
and the figure four in Arabic numerals states the quantity.
Four people may be served from that vial.
S for sunset.
What was a Z for on the bottle we had at lunch?
Z for zenith, as Euclideans take their noon repast
when the sun is at meridian height, roughly 12 noon.
And what will our breakfast be labeled?
The morning meal is designated as D for daylight,
and the number of people following our breakfast will therefore be D4.
Oh, D4 for breakfast, Z4 for lunch,
and S4 for dinner.
Heh, does sound funny, Jerry, but I like what I had at lunch.
Uh, suppose you passed the steak.
Hmm. How will you have your steak, Mrs. Gregory?
Mmm, just medium, Jerry, not too well done.
Okay, one medium steak. You get pill number one.
What was yours, Joan? Steak, chop, macaroni?
I will have one of the pellets, Mr. Hall.
Mr. Hall.
You appear to be a gentleman of note, Jerry.
I don't think she meant it that way,
but here's your bacon and egg, Captain.
I think I'll have some pancakes and honey for mine.
I shall now restrict the angle of our dive to five degrees.
That will enable us to reach 3,000 feet in a short time,
and will also allow me adequate protection from the automatic pilot.
I will soundproof this ship,
fix the controls, and return to the stern section.
You must be very tired, Joan, and Jerry also.
I am tired, Mother.
Oh, I have felt a lot more chipper than I do now.
But if there's anything to do,
well, I can stick around and help do it.
Nothing in the world, Jerry.
You run along with Joan, get some sleep.
If you can sleep on those thin steel sheets, they call beds.
If the fatigue is sufficient, those cultures will seem soft.
I managed to get some rest on one.
The control is now entirely automatic, Captain.
Call me if you observe anything you do not understand.
I guess I can handle it all, Joan.
Uh, wait a minute.
How about the radio? Can we use it?
I would not attempt to send messages
until we have reached a point much nearer Los Angeles.
As we descend, it will be more and more difficult
for the Euclideans to determine our exact position,
though they will easily locate us
when we rise to the surface at the end of our journey.
I think we can well afford to wait a few hours
before sending any messages.
Right you are, Joan. Sorry I brought it up.
Come on, let's go back and iron out that steel on those bonks.
Don't forget to call us after the four-hour watch.
If there should be any extreme vibration of the submarine,
you will call me at once, Captain.
Right, Joan. Now go on to sleep and let Pat and me worry.
Well, I may be foolish, Tex,
but I'm not worrying a great deal.
You know, neither am I. Joan knows what she's talking about.
If she says we can reach Los Angeles in this thing
and be safe as long as we stay near the bottom,
well, I know we can do just that.
Hmm, but how we must have changed, Tex.
All in the few short months
since we left home on this cruise to find Joan.
Yes, we've seen a lot.
Become accustomed to some mighty strange things during that time.
Not that submarines are anything new,
but this is certainly a far better boat than anything we've got at home.
Yes, better than we have at home.
That's what I'm afraid of, Tex.
Not pursued and captured by those scientists.
Not G-47 and his threats.
I'm afraid because...
Well, because there's a terrible fascination in what we've learned.
I know just how you feel, Pat.
I've felt it, but I didn't like to say it.
After all our worry and struggle to get back home,
I wonder, will we ever be happy there again?
That's just what I meant, Tex.
I'm afraid we've... we've seen too much to give it all up.
Euclidia is a wonderful place.