The Lost Kafoozalum
smashedagainst his legs and pinned him down in the angle between the wall andthe floor. His legs are hidden by it.
Because of the spacesuit he does not looked crushed; the thick clumsyjoints have kept their roundness, so far as they are visible; only hishands and head are bare and vulnerable looking.
I am halfway down, floating on minimum gravity, before it reallyoccurs to me that he may be still alive.
I switch to half and drop beside him. His face is colorless but he isbreathing all right.
First-aid kit. I will never make fun of Space Force thoroughnessagain. Rows and rows of small plastic ampoules. Needles.
Pain-killer, first. I read the directions twice, sweating. Emergenciesonly--this is. One dose _only_ to be given and if patient is not ingood health use--never mind that. I fit on the longest needle and jabit through the suit, at the back of the thigh, as far towards theknee-joint as I can get because the suit is thinner. Half one side,half the other.
Now to get the computer off. At a guess it weighs about five hundredpounds. The beam-lever would do it but it would probably fall back.
Antigrav; the personal size is supposed to take up to three times theweight of the average man. I take mine off and buckle the strapsthrough a convenient gap. I have my hands under the thing when M'Claresighs again.
He is lying on his belly but his head is turned to one side, towardsme. Slowly his eyelids open. He catches the sight of my hand; his headmoves a little, and he says, "Lizzie. Golden Liz."
I say not to worry, we will soon be out of here.
His body jumps convulsively and he cries out. His hand reaches mysleeve and feels. He says, "Liz! Oh, God, I thought ... what--"
I say things are under control and just keep quiet a bit.
His eyes close. After a moment he whispers, "Something hit the ship."
"A homing missile, I think."
I ought not to have said that; but it seems to make no particularimpression, maybe he guessed as much.
* * * * *
I was wrong in wanting to shift the computer straight away, therelease of pressure might start a hemorrhage; I dig out ampoules ofblood-seal and inject them into the space between the suit and theflesh, as close to the damage as I can.
M'Clare asks how the ship is lying and I explain, also how I got here.I dig out the six-by-two-inch packet of expanding stretcher and readthe directions. He is quiet for a minute or two, gathering strength;then he says sharply: "Lizzie. Stop that and listen.
"The fuse for the Andite is just under the antigrav. Go and find it.Go now. There's a dial with twenty divisions. Marked in black--you seeit. Turn the pointer to the last division. Is that done?
"Now you see the switch under the pointer? Is your boat ready? I begyour pardon, of course you left it that way. Then turn the switch andget out."
I come back and see by my chrono that the blood-seal should be set; Iget my hands under the computer. M'Clare bangs his hand on the floor.
"Lizzie, you little idiot, don't you realize that even if you get meout of this ship, which is next to impossible, you'll be delayed allthe way--and if the Incognitans find either of us the whole plan'sruined? Much worse than ruined, once they see it's a hoax--"
I tell him I have two Andite sticks and they won't find us and on anight like this any story of explosions will be put down to suddengusts or to lightning.
He is silent for a moment while I start lifting the computer,carefully; its effective weight with the antigrav full on is onlyabout twenty pounds but is has all its inertia. Then he says quietly,"Please, Lizzie--can't you understand that the worst nightmare in thewhole affair has been the fear that one of you might get injured? Oreven killed? When I realized that only one person was needed to pilot_Gilgamesh_--it was the greatest relief I ever experienced. Now yousay...." His voice picks up suddenly. "Lizzie, you're beaten anyway.The ... I'm losing all feeling. Even pain. I can't feel anythingbehind my shoulders ... it's creeping up--"
I say that means the pain-killer I shot him with is acting asadvertised, and he makes a sound as much like an explosive chuckle asanything and it's quiet again.
The curvature between floor and wall is not helpful, I am trying tofind a place to wedge the computer so it cannot fall back when I takeoff the antigrav. Presently I get it pushed on to a sort of ledgeformed by a dent in the floor, which I think will hold it. I ease offthe antigrav and the computer stays put, I don't like the looks of itso let's get out of here.
I push the packaged stretcher under his middle and pull the tapebefore I turn the light on to his legs to see the damage. I cannotmake out very much; the joints of the suit are smashed some, but asfar as I can see the inner lining is not broken which means it isstill air-and-water-tight.
I put a hand under his chest to feel how the stretcher is going; it isnow expanded to eighteen inches by six and I can feel it pushing out,but it is _slow_, what else have I to do--oh yes, get the helmet.
I am standing up to reach for it when M'Clare says, "What are youdoing? Yes ... well, don't put it on for a minute. There's something Iwould like to tell you, and with all respect for your obstinacy Idoubt very much whether I shall have another chance. Keep that lightoff me, will you? It hurts my eyes.
"You know, Lizzie, I dislike risking the lives of any of the studentsfor whom I am responsible, but as it happens I find the idea ofyou--blowing yourself to atoms particularly objectionable because ... Ihappen to be in love with you. You're also one of my best students, Iused to think that ... was why I'd been so insistent on your coming toRussett, but I rather think ... my motives were mixed even then. I meantto tell you this after you graduated, and to ask you to marry me, notthat ... I thought you would, I know quite well ... you never quiteforgave me, but I don't-want-to-have to remember ... I didn't ... havethe guts to--"
His voice trails off, I get a belated rush of sense to the head andturn the light on his face. His head is turned sideways and his fistis clenched against the side of his neck. When I touch it his handfalls open and five discharged ampoules fall out.
Pain-killer.
Maximum dose, one ampoule.
All that talk was just to hold my attention while he fixed the needlesand--
I left the kit spread out right next to him.
While I am taking this in some small cold corner of my mind isremembering the instructions that are on the pain-killer ampoule; itdoes not say, outright, that it is the last refuge for men in theextremity of pain and despair; therefore it cannot say, outright, thatthey sometimes despair too soon; but it does tell you the name of theantidote.
There are only three ampoules of this and they also say, maximum doseone ampoule. I try to work it out but lacking all other informationthe best I can do is inject two and keep one till later. I put thatone in my pocket.
The stretcher is all expanded now; a very thin but quite rigid grid,six feet by two; I lash him on it without changing his position andfasten the helmet over his head.
Antigrav; the straps just go round him and the stretcher.
I point the thing up towards the trap door and give it a gentle push;then I scramble up the rungs and get there just in time to guide itthrough. It takes a knock then and some more while I am getting itdown to the next partition, but he can't feel it.
This time I find the door, because the roar of noise behind it acts asa guide. The sea is getting up and is dashing halfway to the door as Icrawl through. My boat is awash, pivoting to and fro on the grips ofthe front "limbs."
I grab it, release the limbs and pull it as far back as the door. Imaneuver the stretcher on top and realize there is nothing to fastenit with ... except the antigrav, I get that undone, holding thestretcher in balance, and manage to put it under the stretcher andpass the straps between the bars of the grid ... then round the littleboat, and the buckle just grips the last inch. It will hold, though.
* * * * *
I set the boat to face the broken end of the ship, but I daren't pu
tit farther back than the doorway; I turn the antigrav to half, fastenthe limb-grips and rush back towards the nose of the ship. Silver knobunder the dial. I turn it down, hear the thing begin a fast, steadyticking, and turn and run.
Twenty minutes.
One and a half to get back to the boat, four to get inside it withoutoverturning. Nearly two to get down to the sea--balance difficult. Oneand a half to lower myself in.
Thirty seconds' tossing before I sink below the wave layer; then Iturn the motor as high as I dare and head for the shore.
In a minute I have to turn it down; at this speed the radar isbothered by water currents and keeps steering me away from them asthough they were rocks; I finally find the maximum safe speed but itis achingly slow. What happens if you are in water when Andite blowshalf a mile away? A moment's panic as I find the ship being forced up,then I realize I have reached the point where the beach starts toshelve,