Fantastic Voyage - By Isaac Asimov Page 0,55

a knife, you'll use a knife, Duval. If we lose our knives, you'll use your teeth, Duval. If you don't, I will. We may fail, but we won't quit. Meanwhile, let's look at it ..."

He pushed between Duval and Cora and picked up the 'transistor which lay neatly on the tip of his first finger. "Is this the broken one?"

"Yes," said Cora.

"If this were fixed or replaced, could you make the laser operate?"

"Yes, but there's no way of fixing it."

"Suppose you had another transistor about this size and power output and a thin enough wire. Could you piece it together?"

"I don't think I could. It requires such absolute precision."

"Perhaps you couldn't, but what about you, Dr. Duval? Your surgeon's fingers might be able to do it despite the Brownian motion."

"I could try, with Miss Peterson's help. But we don't have the parts."

Grant said, "Yes, we do. I can supply them." He seized a heavy metal screw-driver and moved purposefully back into the front compartment. He went to his wireless and without hesitation began to unscrew the panel.

Michaels moved behind him, seizing his elbow. "What are you doing, Grant?"

Grant shook himself free, "I'm getting at its guts."

"You mean you're going to dismantle the wireless."

"I need a transistor and a wire."

"But we'll be out of communication with the outside."

"So?"

"When the time come to take us out of Benes . . . Grant, listen ..."

Grant said, impatiently, "No. They can follow us through our radioactivity. The wireless is just for idle talk and we can do without. We have to, in fact. It's either radio silence or Benes' death."

"Well then, you'd better call Carter and put it to him."

Grant thought briefly. "I'll call him. But only to tell him there'll be no further messages."

"If he orders you to make ready for withdrawal."

"I'll refuse."

"But if he orders you ..:'

"He can withdraw us by force, but without my cooperation. As long as we're aboard the Proteus, I make the policy decisions. We've gone through too much now to quit, so we go forward to the clot, whatever happens and whatever Carter orders.

Carter shouted, "Repeat last message."

"CANNIBALIZING WIRELESS TO REPAIR LASER. THIS IS LAST MESSAGE."

Reid said, blankly, "They're breaking communication."

Carter said, "What happened to the laser?"

"Don't ask me."

Carter sat down heavily. "Have coffee brought up here, will you, Don? If I thought I could get away with it, I'd ask for a double scotch and soda, and then two more. We're jinxed!"

Reid had signalled for coffee. He said, "Sabotage, maybe."

"Sabotage?"

"Yes, and don't play innocent, general. You anticipated the possibility from the start, or why send Grant?"

"After what happened to Benes on the way here . . ."

"I know. And I don't particularly trust Duval or the girl, either."

"They're all right," said Carter, with a grimace. "They've got to be. Everyone here has to be right. There is no way to make security more secure."

"Exactly. No security procedure lends absolute certainty."

"All these people work here."

"Not Grant," said Reid.

"Eh?"

"Grant doesn't work here. He's an outsider."

Carter smiled spasmodically. "He's a government agent."

Reid said, "I know. And agents can play double games. You put Grant on the Proteus and a string of bad luck begins-or what looks like bad luck ..."

The coffee had come. Carter said, "That's ridiculous. I know the man. He's no stranger to me."

"When was the last time you saw him? What do you know about his inner life?"

"Forget it. It's impossible." But Carter stirred the cream into his coffee with a marked uneasiness.

Reid said, "All right. Just thinking out loud."

Carter said, "Are they still in the pleura?"

"Yes!"

Carter looked at the Time Recorder, which said 32, and shook his head in frustration.

Grant had the wireless in fragments before him. Cora looked at the transistors one after the other, turning them, weighing them, seeming almost to peer within them.

"This one," she said, doubtfully, "will do, I think, but that wire is much too thick."

Duval placed the wire under question on the illuminated opal glass and placed the damaged fragment of original wire next to it, comparing them with somber eyes.

Grant said, "There's nothing closer. You'll have to make it do."

"It's easy to say that," said Cora. "You can give me an order like that, but you can't give such an order to the wire. It won't work no matter how hard you shout at it."

"All right. All right." Grant tried to think and got nowhere.

Duval said, "Now wait. With luck, I may be able to scrape it thin enough. , Miss Peterson, get me a number eleven scalpel."

He