Fantastic Voyage - By Isaac Asimov Page 0,39

tiny eddy."

"A tiny eddy. This!"

"On our miniaturized scale, of course, it's a gigantic whirlpool."

"Didn't it show up on your charts of the circulatory system, Michaels?" asked Grant.

"It must have. I could probably find it here on the ship's chart, if I could magnify it sufficiently. The trouble is my initial analysis had to be made in three hours and I missed it. I have no excuse."

Grant said, "All right, it just means some lost time. Plot out an alternate route and get Owens started. What's the time, Owens?" He looked at the Time Recorder automatically as he asked. He read: 52, and Owens said, "Fifty-two."

"Plenty of time," said Grant.

Michaels was staring at Grant with raised eyebrows. He said, "There's no time, Grant. You haven't grasped what's happened. We're finished. We've failed. We can't get to the clot anymore, don't you understand? We must ask to be removed from the body."

Cora said in horror, "But it will be days before the ship can be miniaturized again. Benes will die."

"There's nothing to be done. We're heading into the jugular vein now. We can't go back through the fissure for we couldn't buck that current, even when the heart is in the iastolic stage, between beats. The only other route, the one in which we follow the venous current, leads through the heart, which is clear suicide."

Grant said, numbly, "Are you sure?"

Owens said, in a cracked, dull voice, "He's right, Grant. I he mission has failed."
Chapter 10 : HEART
A modified hell had broken loose in the control tower. The blip indicating the ship had scarcely changed position on the overall screen but the coordinate pattern had been critically altered.

Carter and Reid turned at the sound of a monitor signal.

"Sir, the face on the screen was agitated. "Proteus off course. They've picked up a blip in Quadrant 23, Level B."

Reid rushed to the window overlooking the mapping room. There was nothing to see at that distance, of course, except heads bent over the charts in quite obviously electric concentration.

Carter reddened. "Don't give me that quadrant stuff. Where are they?'

"In the jugular vein, sir, heading for the superior vena cava."

"In a vein!" For a moment, Carter's own veins were in alarming evidence. "What in the world are they doing in a vein? Reid!" he thundered.

Reid hurried to him. "Yes, I heard."

"How did they get into a vein?"

"I've ordered the men at the chart to try to locate an arterio-venous fistula. They're rare and not easy to find."

"And what ..: '

"Direct connection between a small artery and a small vein. The blood seeps over from the artery to the vein and ..:'

"Didn't they know it was there?"

"Obviously not. And Carter ..."

"What?"

"It may have been a pretty violent affair on their scale. They may not have survived."

Carter turned to the bank of television screens. He punched the appropriate button. "Any new messages from the Proteus?"

"No, sir," came the quick answer.

"Well, get in touch with them, man! Get something out of them! And put it through to me directly." There was an agonizing wait while Carter held his chest motionless for the space of three or four ordinary breaths.

The word came through. "Proteus reporting, sir."

"Thank God for so much," muttered Carter. "State the message."

"They've passed through an arterio-venous fistula, sir. They cannot return and they cannot go ahead. They ask leave to be brought out, sir."

Carter brought both fists down upon the desk. "No! By thunder, no!"

Reid said, "But general, they're right."

Carter looked up at the Time Recorder. It stood at 51. He said, through trembling lips. "They have fifty-one minutes and they'll stay there fifty-one minutes. When that thing there reads zero, we take them out. Not a minute before, unless the mission is accomplished."

"But it's hopeless, darn it. God knows how weakened their ship is. We'll be killing five men."

"Maybe. That's the chance they take and that's the chance we take. But it will be firmly recorded that we never gave up as long as the smallest mathematical chance of success remained."

Reid's eyes were cold and his very mustache bristled. "General, you're thinking of your record. If they die, sir, I'll testify that you kept them in past reasonable hope."

"I'll take that chance, too," said Carter. "Now you tell me-you're in charge of the medical division-why can't they move?"

"They can't go back through the fistula against the current. That's physically impossible no matter how many orders you give. The gradation of blood-pressure is not under Army control."

"Why can't they find another route?"

"All routes from their present