Fantastic Voyage - By Isaac Asimov Page 0,56

placed the wire from what had been Grant's device (now wireless in literal truth) in two small clamps and swung a magnifying glass before it. He reached out for the scalpel which Cora placed within his grip and slowly, he began to scrape.

Without looking up, he said, "Kindly take your seat, Grant. You cannot help me by snorting over my shoulder."

Grant flinched a little, caught Cora's look of appeal. He said nothing and moved back to his seat.

Michaels, in his seat, greeted him humorlessly. "The surgeon is at work," he said. "The scalpel is in his hand and his temperament is at once at its full bent. Don't waste your time being angry with him."

Grant said, "I'm not angry with him."

Michaels said, "Of course you are, unless you're prepared to tell me you've resigned from the human race. Duval has the gift-the God-given gift, I'm sure he would say-of antagonizing people with a single word, a glance, a gesture. And if that weren't enough, there is the young lady."

Grant turned to Michaels with clear impatience. "What about the young lady?"

"Come now, Grant. Do you want a lecture on boys and girls?"

Grant frowned and turned away.

Michaels said softly, rather sadly, "You're in a quandary about her, aren't you?"

"What quandary?"

"She's a nice girl, very good-looking. And yet you're a professionally suspicious person."

"Well?"

"Well! What happened to the laser? Was it an accident?"

"It could have been."

"Yes, it could have been." Michaels' voice was a bare whisper. "But was it?"

Grant whispered, too, after a quick glance over his shoulder. "Are you accusing Miss Peterson of sabotaging the mission?"

"Of course not. I have no evidence of that. But I suspect you are accusing her in your mind and you don't like to be doing so. Hence the quandary."

"Why Miss Peterson?"

"Why not? Nobody would pay any attention to her if she were seen fiddling with the laser. It is her province. And if she were intent on sabotage, she would naturally gravitate to that part of the mission with which she felt most at home-the laser."

"Which would place immediate and automatic suspicion upon her-as it seems to have done," said Grant, with some heat.

"I see. You are angry."

Grant said, "Look. We're all in one relatively small ship and you might think that we were each of us under the close and constant observation of the others, but that's not so. We've been so absorbed with what's out there, all of us, that any one of us could have walked back to the storage compartment and done anything he wanted to the laser and done so unnoticed. You or I might have done it. I wouldn't have seen you. You wouldn't have seen me."

"Or Duval?"

"Or Duval. I'm not eliminating him. Or it might have been an honest accident."

"And your lifeline coming loose? Another accident?"

"Are you prepared to suggest anything else."

"No, I'm not. I can point out a few things, if you're in the mood."

"I'm not, but point them out anyway."

"It was Duval who secured your lifeline."

"And apparently made a poor knot, I suppose," said Grant. "Still there was considerable tension of the line. Considerable."

"A surgeon should be able to tie knots."

"That's nonsense. Surgical knots are not sailors' knots."

"Perhaps. On the other hand, maybe the knot was deliberately tied so as to come loose. Or perhaps it could have been untied by hand."

Grant nodded. "All right. But there again, everyone had their attention on what was going on about them. You, or Duval, or Miss Peterson, might have moved quickly back to the ship, loosened the knot, and returned without being noticed. Even ' Owens might have left the ship for the purpose, I suppose."

"Yes, but Duval had the best chance. Just before you broke loose, he went back to the ship, carrying the snorkel. He said the lifeline came loose as he watched. We know by his own admission that he was in the right place at the right time."

"And it might still have been an accident. What's his motive? The laser had already been sabotaged, and all he could accomplish by loosening the lifeline would be to endanger me personally. If he was after the mission, why bother with me?

"Oh, Grant! Oh, Grant!" Michaels smiled and shook his head.

"Well, talk. Don't just grunt."

"Suppose it was the young lady who took care of the laser. And suppose Duval's interest was specifically you; suppose he wanted to get rid of you, with damage to the mission strictly secondary."

Grant stared speechlessly.

Michaels went on. "Duval is perhaps not so entirely devoted