Fantastic Voyage - By Isaac Asimov Page 0,53

capillary and find their way to the carotid artery again, which is time-consuming; or they may by-pass the arterial system by taking to the lymphatics, which involves other problems. -Michaels is the pilot; I suppose he'll know what to do."

"Can you advise him? For God's sake, don't rest on protocol."

Reid shook his head. "I'm not sure which course is wisest, and he's on the scene. He'll be a better judge as to how well the ship can withstand another arterial battering. We've got to leave it to them, general."

"I wish I knew what to do," said Carter. "By the Lord, I'd take the responsibility, if I knew enough to do so with a reasonable chance of success."

"But that's exactly how I feel," said Reid, "and why I'm declining the responsibility."

Michaels was looking over the charts, "All right, Owens, this wasn't the place I was heading for, but it will do. We're here and we've made an opening. Head for the crevice."

"Into the lungs? said Owens, in outrage.

"No, no." Michaels bounded from his seat in impatience and climbed the stairs so that his head poked into the bubble. "We'll get into the pleural lining. Get the ship going and I'll guide you."

Cora knelt at Grant's chair. "How did you manage?"

Grant said, "Barely. I've been scared more times than I can count-I'm a very scary person-but this time I nearly set a record for fright-intensity."

"Why do you always make yourself out to be such a coward? After all, your job ... "

"Because I'm an agent? Most of it is pretty routine, pretty safe, pretty dull; and I try to keep it that way. When I can't avoid frightening situations, I have to endure them for the sake of what I believe I'm doing. I'm sufficiently brainwashed, you know, to think it the patriotic thing-in a way."

"In a way?"

"In my way. It's not just this country or that, after all. We're long past the stage where there can be a meaningful division of humanity. I honestly believe our policies are intended to uphold the peace and I want to be part, however small, of that upholding. I didn't volunteer for this mission, but now that I'm here ..." He shrugged.

Cora said, "You sound as though you're embarrassed to be talking about peace and patriotism."

Grant said, "I suppose I am. The rest of you are driven by specific motivation, not by vague words. Owens is testing his ship; Michaels is piloting a course across a human body; Duval is admiring God's handiwork; and you..."

"Yes?"

Grant said softly, "You are admiring Duval."

Cora flushed. "He's worth admiration, he really is. You know, after he suggested we shine the ship's headlights into the crevice so as to give you something to shoot for, he did nothing further. He wouldn't say a word to you on your return. It's his way. He'll save someone's life, then be casually rude to him and what will be remembered will be his rudeness and not his life-saving. But his manner doesn't alter what he is."

"No. That's true; though it may mask it."

"And your manner doesn't affect what you are. You affect a brittle, adolescent humor in order to mask a deep involvement in humanity."

It was Grant's turn to redden. "You make me sound an uncommon jackass."

"To yourself perhaps. In any case, you're not a coward. But now I've got to get to work on the laser." She cast a quick glance at Michaels, who was returning to his seat.

"The laser? Good Lord, I'd forgotten. Well, then, do your best to see it's not crucially damaged, will you?"

The animation that had brightened her through the previous conversation died away. "Oh, if I only could."

She moved to the rear

Michaels' eyes followed her. "What about the laser?" he said.

Grant shook his head. "She's going to check now."

Michaels seemed to hesitate before his next remark. He shook his head slightly. Grant watched him but said nothing.

Michaels settled himself into his seat and said at last, "What do you think of our present situation?"

Grant, until now absorbed in Cora, looked up at the windows. They seemed to be moving between two parallel walls that almost touched the Proteus on either side; gleaming yellow and constructed of parallel fibers, like huge tree trunks bound side by side.

The fluid about them was clear, free of cells and objects, almost free of debris. It seemed to be in dead calm and the Proteus churned through it at an even, rapid clip with only the muffled Brownian motion to interject any