Fantastic Voyage - By Isaac Asimov Page 0,71

minute or two," said Michaels, "at most."

"All right," said Grant, "we've got four minutes, plus maybe two minutes extra, plus maybe a minute of slow de-miniaturization before we do damage to Benes. That's seven minutes of our long time-distorted variety. Get going, Duval."

"All you'll succeed in doing, you crazy fool, is to get Benes killed and us with him," yelled Michaels. "Owens, get us over to removal point."

Owens hesitated.

Grant moved quickly to the ladder and climbed up to Owens' bubble. He said quietly. "Turn off the power, Owens. Turn it off."

Owens' finger moved to a switch, hovered over it. Grant's hand moved quickly to it and flicked it into the OFF position with a strenuous gesture. "Now get down. Come on down."

He half-pulled Owens out of his seat, and both came down. The whole had taken a few seconds and Michaels had watched, open-mouthed, too startled to move.

"What the devil have you done?" he demanded.

"The ship is staying right here," said Grant, "till the operation has succeeded. Now Duval, get on with it."

Duval said, "Get the laser, Miss Peterson." Both were in their swim-suits now. Cora's looked sadly seamed and lumpy.

She said, "I must be a rare sight."

Michaels said, "Are you mad? All of you? There is no time. All this is suicide. Listen to me," he was almost frothing with anxiety, "you can't accomplish anything."

Grant said, "Owens, operate the hatch for them."

Michaels flung himself forward, but Grant seized him, whirled him around, and said, "Don't make me hit you, Dr. Michaels. My muscles ache and I don't want to have to use them but if I hit, I will hit hard and, I promise you, I will break your jaw."

Michaels lifted his fists almost as though he were ready to accept the challenge. But Duval and Cora had disappeared into the hatch and Michaels, watching them leave, became almost pleading.

"Listen, Grant, don't you see what's happening? Duval will kill Benes. It will be so easy. A slip of the laser and who will tell the difference? If you do as I say, we can leave Benes alive, get out and try again tomorrow."

"He may not be alive tomorrow and we can't miniaturize for quite a while, someone said."

"He might be alive tomorrow; he'll certainly be dead if you don't stop Duval. Other people can be miniaturized, tomorrow, even if we can't."

"In another ship? Nothing but the Proteus can manage, or is available."

Michaels became shrill. "Grant, I tell you Duval is an enemy agent."

"I don't believe that," said Grant.

"Why, because he's so religious? Because he's so full of pious platitudes? Isn't that just the disguise he'd choose? Or have you been influenced by his mistress, his..."

Grant said, "Don't finish that sentence, Michaels! Now, listen. There's no evidence that he's an enemy agent, and there's no reason for me to believe that."

"But I'm telling you..."

"I know you are. The fact is, though, I happen to believe that you are the enemy agent, Dr. Michaels.

"Yes. I have no real evidence for that either; nothing that could hold up in a law-court, but once security is through with you, such evidence will be found, I think."

Michaels pushed away from Grant and stared at him with horror. "Of course, I see now. You are the agent, Grant. Owens, don't you see? There were a dozen times when we could have gotten out safely, when it was obvious that the mission couldn't succeed, and wouldn't. He kept us in here every time. That's why he worked so hard replenishing our air supply at the lung. That's why ... Help me, Owens. Help me."

Owens stood irresolute.

Grant said, "The Time Recorder is about to move to 5. We now have three minutes more. Give me three minutes, Owens. You know that Benes won't live unless we remove the clot in those three minutes. I'll go out and help them and you keep Michaels immobilized. If I'm not back by the reading of 2, get out of here and save the ship and yourself. Benes will die and maybe we will, too. But you'll be safe and you can put the finger on Michaels."

Owens still said nothing.

Grant said, "Three minutes." And he began putting on his suit. The Time Recorder said 5.

Owens said, finally, "Three minutes, then. All right. But only three minutes."

Michaels sat down wearily. "You're letting them kill Benes, Owens, but I've done what I could. My conscience is clear."

Grant worked his way through the hatch.

Duval and Cora swam quickly in the direction of the clot,