I asked, “But how does the cabbagite crystal allow the diving suit to move around underground--through solid earth?” Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that Eskew was shaking his head in sneering compassion for my slow-witted grasp of the technical details. But Marchare didn’t mind a bit, having had long experience with patent attorneys. “Well,” he said, “the energy from the crystal goes first to a selector unit. From there it passes to the surface of the suit by means of thousands of tiny wire leads. These leads connect to a wire fabric imbedded in the thin rubber from which the suit is made. Is that clear?” “Of course,” I assured him loftily, ignoring Eskew’s subdued snicker. “The control dials work this way,” continued Marchare. “Once the diver is underground he can cut off the energy field beneath the soles of his feet. Thus he will have something solid to stand on. When he walks, though, he will have to keep the soles of his feet pointed away from the direction of his advance, or retreat, because only the ground under his soles will always be solid. Either that, or he can adjust the controls each time he moves his foot. “The control built into the right hand will control the right half of the suit; the left-hand one will control the left, The energy field over the rest of the suit isn’t so important as long as it is strong enough to soften the surrounding earth. But even so we’re going to make it possible for the diver to control the energy field on the entire surface. That way he could even lie down if he wanted to.” “Since you haven’t finished the suit yet,” I said, “how do you know it will work?” Eskew looked up at me as though I had just taken a dime from a five-year-old. Marchare never turned a hair. “Oh, it will work all right. We’ve already made a great many tests. We’ve thrust objects through walls and rocks and metals. Hamilton hasn’t actually finished the diving suit. But when he does, you can rest assured it will come up to expectations.” “What,” I asked, “happens to the diver if the crystal stops functioning while he’s underground?” “Now there’s a disturbing thought,” mused Marchare. “I guess the suit would be lost. Gravity would pull it down to the center of the earth.” Eskew cackled mirthlessly. “And would the diver be burned up.” Marchare smiled indulgently. “A card, that Hamilton. Actually, there’d be no pain. Ham has timed the air supply to fail long before the diver can reach the center of the earth.” * * * * * The hair on the back of my neck relaxed a little. I forced myself to consider only the legal aspects of the subject at hand. “When will the suit be ready?” I asked. “In about four months,” grunted Eskew. “Possibly a little sooner.” “That’s good,” I told him. “I think the Patent Office may want a demonstration. If I can prepare and file the application within the next two weeks, the Office will probably take it up just about the time the suit is ready.”