But when Ted told him of the danger, Randy bounced out of bed with no further prompting. Ted switched on a light, and just as he was reading the air-pressure gauge on the wall, he heard a shrill whistle in the house. It was the air alarm that had gone off automatically. Ted could see that the gauge read dangerously low.
If he and Randy and the others did not get into space suits in a hurry they would suffer serious consequences, one of which could be an attack of the “bends.” At worst, they would lose consciousness and die of anoxia—oxygen starvation.
Even before Ted could leave the room to rouse his mother and sister, both were standing at the boys’ door.
“We’ve got to get on space suits right away!” Ted told them. “It looks like all the air pressure in the house is leaking out!”
They went immediately to the closet and began dragging out space dress in a mad flurry of fear. They pulled on the suits and helmets with haste and inflated the airtight outfits with fresh, pressurized oxygen from the small tanks on their backs.
“What do you think has happened to the air drum in the basement?” Mrs. Kenton asked her son over her helmet radio.
“I don’t know, but Randy and I can go down there and see,” Ted answered.
The boys went downstairs, made a light, and walked over to the giant metal tank recessed in one of the walls. Checking the gauges on the tank, Ted turned to Randy with a frown.
“There’s nothing wrong with this,” Ted said.
“Then where is the trouble?” Randy asked.