Fantastic Voyage II: Destination Brain
Chapter 16. Death

Once the sun sets, it grows dark; don't let that catch you by surprise.
70.
Morrison could not later recall anything that took place - either just before or just after his return to the ship. Try as he might, he did not remember seeing the ship coming for him at any time, nor did he recall the moment of transfer, nor the removal of his plastic suit.
Going far enough back, he remembered the despair and loneliness of waiting to explode and die. Going far enough forward, he remembered looking up at the concerned face of Sophia Kaliinin bending over him. There was nothing in between.
Hadn't this happened already? The two incidents, joined by Kaliinin's care for him, were separated by several hours in time, but melted into one.
He said in a hoarse and almost unintelligible voice, "Are we headed in the right direction?" He said it in English.
Kaliinin hesitated, then answered slowly, also in English and with a moderately heavy accent, "Yes, Albert, but that was some time ago, when we were in the capillary. You came back and then went out a second time. We are in a neuron now. Remember?"
Morrison frowned. What was all this?
Slowly, in bits, his memory returned. He closed his eyes and tried to get it all straight. Then he said, "How did you find me?" He spoke in Russian now.
Konev said, "I sensed - quite strongly - the thought waves of Shapirov as it came through your instrument."
"My computer! Is it safe?"
Konev said, "It was still attached to you. Did you make out actual thoughts?"
"Actual thoughts?" Morrison stared at him fuzzily. "What actual thoughts? What are you talking about?"
Konev was clearly impatient, but he set his lips tightly together and then said, "I could make out Shapirov's thought waves reaching me across the cell by way of your device, but there were no actual words or images."
"What did you sense, then?"
"Anguish."
Boranova said, "The rest of us sensed nothing at all, but it seemed to us that what Yuri described was the anguish of a mind that knew it was in a comatose trap, that knew it was a prisoner. Did you sense anything more specific than that?"
"No." Morrison looked down upon himself and realized that he was sprawled across two seats, his head was in the crook of Kaliinin's arms, and that he was in his one-piece cotton suit. He tried to struggle upright. "Water, please."
He drank thirstily, then said, "I don't recall hearing anything or sensing anything. In my position -"
Konev said sharply, "What has your position to do with it? Your computer was transmitting information. I sensed it at a considerable distance. How would it be possible for you not to sense anything?"
"I had other things to think about, Yuri. I was lost and I was sure of death. Under the circumstances, I paid no attention to anything else."
"I can't believe that, Albert. Don't lie to me."
"I am not lying to you. - Madame Boranova." He managed to pronounce the name very formally. "I demand that I be treated in a courteous manner."
"Yuri," said Boranova sharply. "Don't make accusations. If you have questions to ask, ask them."
Konev said, "Then let me put it this way. I sensed a great deal of emotion, even though I was far from the instrument in terms of our miniaturized state. You, Albert, were right on top of your device and it was keyed to your brain, not mine. Our brains are of similar type, presumably, but they are not identical and you can sense on your instrument more sharply than I can. How is it possible, then, that I could sense so much and that you should nevertheless claim to have sensed nothing?"
Morrison said strenuously, "Do you think I had time or inclination for sensing? I was swept away from the ship. I was separated, alone, lost."
"I understand that, but you need make no special effort to sense. The sensations would invade your mind despite anything that might be taking place."
"I received no sensations just the same. What filled my mind was that I was alone and I was going to die. How is it possible you don't understand that? I thought I would heat up and die, as I almost did the first time." A sudden doubt assailed him and he looked across at Kaliinin. "There were two times, weren't there?"
"Yes, Albert," she said softly.
"And then I realized I wasn't heating up. Instead, it seemed to me that I was growing larger and smaller - oscillating. I was involved in some sort of miniaturization transfer in place of heat transfer. Is that possible, Natalya?"
Boranova hesitated, then said, "That effect follows naturally from the field equations of miniaturization. It has never been tested, but apparently you confirmed it while out there."
"It seemed to me that my surroundings were oscillating in size, that the water molecules all around me were expanding and contracting, and it seemed to me to be more logical that it was I who was oscillating, rather than that everything else was."
"You were correct and what you report is valuable. One might argue from this that the turmoil of the event to you was not without its compensation in a larger sense."
Konev said indignantly, "Albert, you tell us that you were perfectly capable of careful and rational thought out there - and yet you expect us to believe that you sensed nothing?"
Morrison raised his voice, "Can't you understand, you monomaniac, that it was this very careful and rational thought, as you call it, that filled my mind to the exclusion of everything else? I was in absolute terror. I expected, with each contraction of the molecules around me, that contraction would continue indefinitely, which would mean, in actual fact, that I would expand indefinitely; that, in other words, I would undergo spontaneous deminiaturization and explode and die. I was not in the least concerned with sensing thought waves at that moment. If any had forced themselves on me, I would, in my condition then, have ignored them. That is the truth."
Konev twisted his face into an expression of scorn. "If I had an important job to do and if a firing squad had their weapons trained on me, then in the few moments before they fired, I would still concentrate on my job."
Dezhnev muttered, "As my father used to say: 'Anyone can hunt a bear fearlessly when the bear is absent.'"
Konev turned on him fiercely, "I've had enough of your father, you old drunkard."
Dezhnev said, "Repeat that to me when we are safely back in the Grotto and you will then find you are hunting the bear when the bear is present."
Boranova said, "Not another word, Yuri. Are you intent on quarreling with everyone?"
"Natalya, I'm intent on doing my job. Albert must go out again."
"No," said Morrison in terror. "Never."
Dezhnev, who glared at Konev less than lovingly, said, "A hero of the Soviet Union is heard from. He must do his job, so Albert must go out into the cell again."
Boranova said, "Dezhnev is right, Yuri. You boast that even a firing squad would not interrupt your duty. Go out once, then, as Albert has done twice."
Konev said, "It is his machine. It is keyed to his brain."
"So I understand," said Boranova, "but you, as you yourself say, have the same brain type. At least you could sense what he sensed. Certainly you sensed the skeptic waves when he was lost in the intercellular current. And you were at a distance. With the machine in your very hand and yourself outside, you would gather data of your own, which should be more valuable to us, in any case. Of what use would it be to have Albert's keener perception if you insist on disbelieving whatever he says?"
All were staring at Konev now. Even Kaliinin managed to look at him at intervals through her long lashes.
Then Morrison coughed slightly and said, "I'm afraid I urinated into the suit. A little. Not much, I think. Terror has its price."
"I know," said Boranova. "I've drained it and cleaned it as well as I could. That shouldn't stop Yuri. A little bit of urine residue will surely not stop the dedication to duty of a man like him."
Konev said, "I resent this clumsy sarcasm on the part of all of you, but I'll go out into the cell. Do you really think I'm afraid of doing that? My only thought to the contrary has been that Albert is the best receiver. Still, I am second-best, certainly, and if he will not do it, then I will, provided -"
He paused and Dezhnev said, "Provided the bear is not there, eh, Yuri, my hero."
Konev said bitterly, "No, old sot, provided that I am held firmly to the ship. Albert was torn loose because he was attached feebly, a poor job on the part of the one in charge of that department. I want no poor jobs done on me."
Kaliinin said to no one, her eyes on her fingertips, "Albert must have struck a structure in such a way as to exactly fit it, electrically speaking. The chance of that happening was very low. Even so, I shall try to make use of an odd pattern on the ship and the suit in order to reduce the odds as far as I can manage."
Konev nodded. "I'll accept that," he said to Boranova. Then, to Morrison, "You say there is no heat transfer?"
Morrison said, "None that I could detect. Just size oscillation."
"Then I won't bother removing my garment."
Boranova said, "You understand, Yuri, that you won't stay out long. We cannot stretch the risk of deminiaturization indefinitely."
"I understand," said Konev and with Morrison's help he clambered into the suit.
71.
Morrison looked through the hull of the ship and watched Konev.
Twice it had been the other way around. He had been outside looking in. (And for a while, that second time, he had been nowhere looking nowhere.)
Morrison felt a little chagrined that Konev seemed so composed. Konev did not turn to look into the ship. He held Morrison's computer in his hands, following Morrison's hasty instructions on the elementary aspects of expanding and focusing. He seemed entirely intent on his job. Was he really that icily brave? Would he continue to concentrate even if he were ripped loose as Morrison had been? Probably - and Morrison felt ashamed of himself.
He looked at the others on the ship.
Dezhnev remained at his controls. He had to stay near the membrane of the cell. He had suggested moving into the doldrums between the two streams. Nearly motionless as they would then be (probably turning in a slow eddy, actually), they would not risk the kind of accident that had torn Morrison loose. Konev had vetoed that at once. It was along the membrane that the skeptic waves moved and he wanted to be near them.
Dezhnev had also suggested turning the ship upside down. Up and down made no difference here in the cell, any more than it did in outer space. By turning upside down, the air lock would be on the side of the ship away from the membrane and that might keep Konev away from cytoskeletal structures.
That merely angered Konev. He pointed out that such structures might be anywhere in the cell and that, in any case, he did not want the bulk of the ship between himself and the membrane.
So he was out there, in just the way he wanted, and Dezhnev, paying close attention to his controls, whistled very softly to himself.
Boranova watched her instrument, looking up only occasionally to gaze thoughtfully at Konev. Kaliinin was fidgety. It was the only word. Her eyes shifted toward Konev a hundred times and they shifted away as many times.
Boranova said suddenly, "Albert, it's your instrument. Do you think Yuri can work it? Do you think he's getting anything?"
Morrison smiled briefly. "I preset it for him. There isn't much further for him to do and I explained the focusing. Just the same, I know he isn't getting anything, Natalya."
"How can you know that?"
"if he were to sense something, I would overhear it - or oversense it, perhaps I should say - as he oversensed me when I was out in the stream. I sense nothing; absolutely nothing."
Boranova looked surprised. "But could that be? If he sensed something when you held it, why shouldn't he sense something when he holds it?"
"Perhaps conditions have changed. Consider that all this agony that Konev says he detected when he followed my machine's broadcast of Shapirov's thoughts to me. That was not characteristic of what we heard before."
"I know. It had been almost idyllic before. Green fields. Mathematical equations."
"Can it be, then, that the living part of Shapirov's brain, if it is capable of consciousness, has just recently recognized its comatose position, that it has done so in the last hour, perhaps -"
"Why should that have happened in the last hour? That's too much of a coincidence that it should do so now, just as we are in the brain."
"Perhaps we have stimulated the brain by actually being in it, and brought the realization about in consequence. Or, perhaps it is a coincidence. The funny thing about coincidences is that they do happen. - And perhaps the realization that struck him with anguish not long ago has now caused him to sink into silent apathy."
Boranova looked uncertain. "I still can't believe that. Do you really think Yuri's not getting anything?"
"Nothing of any significance. I am quite certain."
"Perhaps I should call him in."
"I would if I were you, Natalya. He's been out nearly ten minutes. If he isn't getting anything, that's time enough."
"But what if he's getting something?"
"Then he'll refuse to come in. You know Konev."
Boranova said, "Tap on the hull of the ship, Albert. You're nearest his face."
Morrison did so and Konev looked in their direction. His face was blurred through the plastic headpiece but he wore an unmistakable frown. Boranova gestured for him to come in.
Konev hesitated, then nodded, and Morrison said to Boranova, "There's your proof."
Konev was brought in and they could see his face was flushed. They unbuckled his helmet and he drew in a deep breath.
"Whew! That's good. It was getting a little warm out there. Since I was attached to the ship, the size oscillation was less than I expected and the heat transfer was perceptible. - Help me get the rest of this plastic armor off."
Boranova said in a sudden small spasm of hope, "Is that why you were ready to come in? The heat?"
"That was certainly the chief reason."
"Did you sense anything, Yuri?"
And Konev scowled and said, "No. Not a thing. Nothing."
Morrison lifted his head. A muscle in his right cheek twitched briefly, but he did not smile.
72.
"Well, Natasha, little captain," said Dezhnev with an air of faded bonhomie. "What do we do next? Any ideas?"
He received no answer, In fact, no one seemed to notice that he had spoken.
Konev was still mopping away at his chest and at the back of his neck. His look at Morrison had no bonhomie in it at all. His dark eyes smoldered. "There was a great deal of transmission out there when you were outside the ship."
"If you say so," said Morrison coldly, "but I told you that I don't remember a thing about it."
"Maybe it does make a difference who holds the device."
"I don't believe that."
"Science is not a matter of belief, but of evidence. Why don't we see what happens when you go out holding your own device exactly as I did? We'll have you bound firmly so that you don't come loose again and you can stay out the same ten minutes I did. No more."
Morrison said, "I won't do it. That's already been tried."
"And I sensed Shapirov's thoughts - even if you say you didn't."
"You did not sense his thoughts. You sensed only emotion. There were no words."
"Because you let go of the device. You admitted that yourself. Try it now, without letting go."
"No. It won't work."
"You were frightened because you were torn loose. This time you will not be torn loose, as I was not. You will not be frightened."
"You underestimate my capacity for terror, Yuri," said Morrison, shrugging.
Konev looked disgusted. "Is this a time to joke?"
"I'm not joking. I'm easily terrified. I lack your - whatever.
"Courage?"
"All right. If you want an admission I lack courage, I'll admit it."
Konev turned to look at Boranova. "Natalya. You are the captain. Direct Albert to try once more."
"I don't think I can direct him under these conditions," said Boranova. "As he himself has said, what good will it do if we combine our strength, force him into the suit, and shove him out? If he is incapable of doing anything, we'll get nothing out of it. However, I can ask him. - Albert."
"Save your breath," said Morrison wearily.
"Once more. Not more than three minutes by the clock unless you get a transmission."
"We won't. I'm convinced we won't."
"Then only three minutes to prove the point."
Morrison said, "To what end, Natalya? If I get nothing, Yuri will say I am deliberately misadjusting my computer. If there is no trust between us, we will accomplish nothing in any case. How would it be, for instance, if I displayed Konev's conviction that to disagree is to lie? I say I sensed nothing of either Shapirov's thoughts or emotions when I was alone in the intracellular stream. Konev said he sensed a great deal. Who else did? Did you, Natalya?"
"No. I sensed nothing."
"Sophia?"
Kaffinin shook her head.
"Arkady?"
Dezhnev said in an aggrieved tone, "I do not seem to be able to sense very much."
Morrison said, "Well, then, Yuri stands alone. How are we to know he really sensed anything? I shall not be as unkind as he is. I shall not accuse him of lying - but isn't it possible that his wild desire to sense something caused him to imagine he had?"
Konev's face was white with anger, but his voice, except for a slight tremor, was cool enough. "Forget all that. We have spent hours in this body and I'm asking for one last observation, one last experiment, that may justify all that has gone before."
"No," said Morrison. "Last pays all. I've heard that before."
Boranova said, "Albert, this time there will be no mistake. One last experiment."
Dezhnev said, "It would have to be a last experiment. Our power supply is lower than I would like it to be. Finding you was costly, Albert."
"Yet we did find you," said Konev, "and without counting the cost. I found you." He suddenly smiled tightly and fiercely. "And I wouldn't have found you if I did not detect the transmissions emanating from your device. It would have been impossible. There's the proof that what I sensed was not imaginary. And since I found you, pay me back."
Morrison's nostrils flared. "You came after me because my explosion would have killed you all in a matter of minutes, perhaps. What payment do you expect for your anxiety to save your own li-"
The ship rocked violently without warning. It swayed heavily and Konev, who had been standing, tottered and caught at the back of his seat.
"What was it?" called out Boranova, clutching with one hand at her own control device.
Kaliinin bent over her computer. "I caught a glimpse, but you can't tell in this light. It may have been a ribosome."
"A ribosome," repeated Morrison in astonishment.
"Why not? They're scattered all over the cell. They're the protein-manufacturing organelles."
"I know what they are," said Morrison indignantly.
"So it landed us a blow. Or rather, as we skimmed along, we landed it a blow. It doesn't matter which way you look at it; we just had a giant piece of Brownian motion."
"Worse than that," said Dezhnev, pointing outward in horror. "We're not getting heat transfer, we're getting field oscillation."
Morrison, staring in despair, recognized the phenomenon he had seen when alone in the cell. The water molecules were expanding and contracting - visibly so.
"Stop it! Stop it!" shouted Konev.
"I'm trying to," said Boranova through tight lips. "Arkady, shut off the jets and make all the power available to me. - Shut off the air-conditioning, lights, everything!"
Boranova bent over the tiny glow that marked her battery-powered computer.
Morrison could see nothing except for the light from Boranova's computer and, in the seat next to him, Kaliinin's. He could not see, in the otherwise total darkness of a cell buried in the interior of a brain, the water molecules swelling and subsiding.
There was no uncertainty about it, however. He could feel the jarring in the pit of his stomach. It was not the water molecules that were oscillating, after all. It was the miniaturization field that was - and the objects that were buried in it - and he himself.
Each time the ship expanded (and the water molecules seemed to contract), the field converted some of its energy to heat and he could feel the flush that swept over him. Then, as Boranova forced energy into the field, squeezing it into contraction, the heat vanished. For a while, he could feel the oscillations slow and subside.
But then they began to grow wilder and he knew that Boranova was failing. She could not fend off the spontaneous deminiaturization that was on the way and, in ten seconds, he knew he would be dead. He - and all of them, and the body in which they were buried - would be an exploding puff of water vapor and carbon dioxide.
He felt dizzy. He was going to faint and, in his pusillanimous way, he would thus anticipate death by a second and his last recognizable emotion would be one of intense shame.
73.
The seconds passed and Morrison didn't faint. He stirred a little. He should be dead by now, shouldn't he? (It was inevitable that the next thought should come: Can there be an afterlife after all? - He dismissed the possibility quickly.)
He was aware of someone sobbing. No! It was harsh breathing.
He opened his eyes (he hadn't realized they were closed) and found himself staring at Kaliinin in the dim light. Since all the energy available was being pumped into the effort to keep the ship from deminiaturizing, he saw her only by the glow of her own computer. He could make out her head bent over it, her hair in disarray and her breath whistling sharply through her parted lips.
He looked around in a sudden renewal of hope and thought and life. The ship's oscillations seemed less extreme. They were settling downward into a kind of peace even as he watched.
And then cautiously, Kaliinin stopped and looked up sidewise at him, her face twitching into a painful smile. "It is done," she said in a hoarse whisper.
The light within the ship brightened slowly, almost tentatively, and Dezhnev uttered a huge shuddering sigh. "If I am not dead now," he said, "I hope to live yet a little while. As my father once said: 'Life would be unbearable if death were not worse yet.' - Thank you, Natasha. You may be my captain forever."
"Not I," said Boranova, her face looking very old - to the point where Morrison would not have been surprised to see white streaks in her black hair. "I simply couldn't pump enough energy into the ship. Was it something you did, Sophia?"
Kaliinin's eyes were closed now, but her breasts were still heaving. She stirred a little, as though reluctant to answer, reluctant to do anything but savor life for a time. Then she said, "I don't know. Maybe."
Boranova said, "What did you do?"
Kaliinin said, "I couldn't just wait for death. I made the ship the electric duplicate of a D-glucose molecule and hoped the cell would do the normal thing and interact with a molecule of ATP - adenosine triphosphate. In doing so, it gained a phosphate group and energy. The energy, I hoped, would go into reinforcing the miniaturization field. I then neutralized the ship and the phosphate group fell off. D-glucose again, another gain in energy, then neutral, and so on, over and over." She stopped to pant a bit. "Over and over. My fingers were working so fast, I didn't know if I were hitting the right keys or not - but I must have. And the ship gained enough energy to stabilize the field."
Boranova said, "How did you come to do that? No one has ever suggested in my hearing that this might -"
"Nor in mine," said Kaliinin. "Nor in mine. I was just wondering this morning before we got on the ship what I would do - or what anyone could do - if spontaneous deminiaturization began. We'd need energy, but if the ship couldn't pump up enough - I thought, Could the cell itself supply the energy? If it did, it would only be through ATP, which every cell has. I didn't know if it would work. I had to spend energy, forcing the electrical pattern on and off the ship, and I knew I might spend more than I got from ATP. Or the energy of the ATP might simply not afFect the ship in such a way as to counter the deminiaturization. It was all such a gamble."
Dezhnev said - softly, almost as though to himself, "As my old father would say: 'If you have nothing to lose, gamble freely.'" Then, briskly, he said, "Thank you, little Sophia. My life is yours from now on. I will give it to you at your need. I will go farther. I will even marry you if that would strike you as convenient."
"A chivalrous offer," said Kaliinin, smiling faintly, "but I wouldn't ask marriage of you. Your mere life - at need - would be quite enough."
Boranova was entirely herself now and she said, "This will be cited in detail in the final report. Your quick thinking and your quick action saved everything."
Morrison couldn't trust himself to make any speech at all. (Unaccountably, he felt near tears. - In gratitude for life? In admiration for Kaliinin?) All he could do was reach for Kaliinin's hand, put it to his lips, and kiss it. Then, after clearing his throat vigorously, he said with extraordinary mildness, "Thank you, Sophia."
She looked embarrassed, but did not draw her hand away immediately. She said, "It might not have worked. I didn't think it would work."
"Had it not," said Dezhnev, "we would be no deader."
Through all this, only Yuri Konev had not said a word and Morrison turned to look at him. He sat as he usually sat, very upright and very much turned away from them.
Morrison, finding his voice suddenly - and his anger - said, "Well, Yuri, what have you to say?"
Konev looked over his shoulder briefly and said, "Nothing."
"Nothing? Sophia saved the expedition."
Konev shrugged, "She did her job."
"Her job? She did much more than her job." Morrison leaned forward and reached wildly for Konev, grabbing his shoulder. "She invented the technique that saved us. And in doing so, she saved your life, you idiot. She's the reason you're still alive. You can at least thank her."
"I'll do as I please," said Konev, twitching his shoulder and then writhing out of Morrison's grasp.
Morrison's hands found their way around Konev's throat. "You miserable, egotistical barbarian," he grunted out, squeezing desperately. "You love her in your own insane way and you won't give her a kind word. Not one kind word, you piece of dirt."
Again Konev pulled himself loose and then the two were pummeling each other clumsily. They were half-trapped by the seats from which they had partly risen and neither could maneuver properly under zero-gravity conditions.
Kaliinin screamed, "Don't hurt him!"
He won't hurt me, thought Morrison, striving mightily. He had not been engaged in this kind of physical combat since he was sixteen and, he thought in embarrassment, he wasn't doing any better now.
Boranova's voice rang out sharply. "Stop it. Both of you."
And they did. Both of them.
Boranova said, "Albert, you are not here to teach anyone manners. And Yuri, you need not labor to be a boor, it comes natural to you. If you do not wish to acknowledge Sophia's -"
Sophia said with an obvious effort, "I'm not asking for thanks - from anyone."
"Thanks?" said Konev angrily. "Let us all say thanks. Before the deminiaturization started, I was trying to get this American coward to thank us for rescuing him. I didn't want thanks in words. This isn't a dance floor. We needn't bow and curtsy. I wanted him to show his thanks by getting out there and trying to sense some of Shapirov's thoughts. He refused. Who is he to teach me how and when to say thanks?"
Morrison said, "I said before the deminiaturization that I wouldn't do it and I repeat that now."
Dezhnev interrupted and said, "We beat a dead horse here. We have consumed our energy supply as though it were vodka at a wedding. Between pursuits and deminiaturizations, we have very little to spare for the task of deminiaturizing under controlled conditions. We must get out now."
Konev said, "It would take very little energy to have this man go out for a couple of minutes and come in again. Then we can leave."
For a moment, Konev and Morrison stared at each other hostilely and then Dezhnev said in a voice that seemed drained of some of its life, "My poor old father used to say: 'The most frightening phrase in the Russian language is "That's odd."'"
Konev turned angrily and said, "Shut up, Arkady."
Dezhnev replied, "I mentioned that only because it is now time for me to say it: That's odd."
74.
Boranova pushed her dark hair back from her forehead (a bit wearily, Morrison thought, and noted the hair itself was clearly damp with perspiration). She said, "What is odd, Arkady? Let us not play games."
"The current flow of the cellular material is slowing."
There was a brief silence, then Boranova said, "How can you tell?"
Dezhnev said heavily, "Natasha, dear, if you sat in my seat you would know that there are fibers criss-crossing the cell -"
"The cytoskeleton," put in Morrison.
"Thank you, Albert, my child," said Dezhnev with a grand wave of his hand. "My father used to say: 'It is more important to know the thing than the name.' Still, never mind. The whatever - you - call - it doesn't stop the cell flow and it doesn't stop the ship, but I can see it glint past. Well, it's glinting past more slowly now. I assume the fibers don't move, so I take it we're slowing. And since I'm not doing anything to slow the ship, I assume that it is the intracellular flow that is really slowing. - This is called logic, Albert, so you don't have to educate me on that point."
Kaliinin said in a small voice, "I think we have damaged the cell." She sounded conscience-stricken.
Morrison took it so and said, "One brain cell gone, more or less, won't hurt Shapirov in any way, especially in the condition he's in. I wouldn't be surprised if the cell were gone, though. After all, the ship came after me in a furious race, I imagine - and I thank you all again for that - and it probably vibrated itself nearly to death and must have vibrated the entire cell as well."
Konev said, frowning darkly, "That's mad. We're molecule-sized - and a small molecule at that. Do you suppose anything we can do, whether moving or jiggling, is going to damage an entire cell?"
Morrison said, "We don't have to reason it out, Yuri. It's an observed fact. The intracellular stream is stopping and that isn't normal."
"In the first place, that's just Arkady's impression," said Konev, "and he's no neurologist -"
"Do I have to be a neurologist to have eyes?" demanded Dezhnev hotly, one arm raised as though to strike at the younger man.
Konev cast a brief glance at Dezhnev, but made no other acknowledgment of his remark. He said, "And besides, we don't know what is normal in a living brain cell from this level of observation. There may be calms and eddies in the flow, so that even if something like this is observed, it might be only temporary."
"You're whistling past the graveyard, Yuri," said Morrison. "The fact is, we can't use this cell any more and we don't have sufficient remaining energy to wander around searching for another cell."
Konev ground his teeth. "There must be something we can do. We can't give up."
Morrison said, "Natalya, make the decision. Is there any point in investigating this cell any further? And are we in a position to seek out another cell?"
Boranova raised her hand and bowed her head in a moment of thought. The others turned to look at her and Konev seized the opportunity to grasp Morrison by the upper arm and pull him closer. His eyes were dark with hostility. He whispered, "How is it you think I am in love with -" he jerked his head in Kaliinin's direction. "What gives you the right to think so? Tell me that."
Morrison looked at him blankly.
At this point, Boranova spoke, but it was not to answer Morrison's question. She said mildly, "Arkady, what is it you are doing?"
Dezhnev, who was bent over his controls, lifted his head. "I am rearranging the wiring back to what it was. I am hooking up communications again."
Boranova said, "Have I told you to do that?"
Dezhnev said, "Necessity has told me to do that."
Konev said, "Does it occur to you it will be impossible to steer?"
Dezhnev growled and said in sullen irony, "And does it occur to you that there may be no more steering to do?"
"What is the necessity that drives you, Arkady?" said Boranova patiently.
Dezhnev said, "I don't think it's this cell alone that is out of order. The temperature around us is going down. - Slowly."
Konev sneered. "By your measurements?"
"No. By the ship's measurements. By the background infrared radiation we're getting."
"You can't tell anything by that," said Konev. "At our size, we get very few infrared photons. The level would vary all over the lot."
Dezhnev nodded at Konev and said, "Like this." His hand waved up and down frenetically. "Still, it can wave up and down like a rowboat in a typhoon and yet do so at a lower and lower average level." And his hand sank ever lower as it continued its trembling.
Boranova said, "Why should the temperature be dropping?"
Morrison smiled grimly. "Come on, Natalya. I think you know why. I know that Yuri knows why. Arkady must find out and for that reason necessity is forcing him to put back communications."
An uncomfortable silence fell, except for Dezhnev's occasional grunts and muttered expletives as he struggled with the ship's wiring.
Morrison gazed out at the surroundings, which he could once again see in the usual unsatisfactory fashion now that ship's lighting had been restored. There were the usual dim glitter of molecules, large and small, that traveled with them. Now that Dezhnev had mentioned it, he saw the occasional reflection of light from a line that stretched across the path before them and then moved over (or under) and behind at express speed.
These were, undoubtedly, very thin collagen fibers that preserved the shape of the irregular neuron and kept it from converting itself into a roughly spherical blob under the pull of its own surface tension. Had he been watching for it, he would have noticed it before. It occurred to him that Dezhnev, as navigator, had to watch for everything and, in the entirely unprecedented situation in which the ship found itself, Dezhnev had had no guide, no instruction, no experience to let him know what to watch for. There was no question but that Dezhnev's task had placed him under greater tension than the others had allowed for.
Certainly, to Morrison himself, Dezhnev had been taken for granted as the least of the five. Not fair, Morrison thought now.
Dezhnev had straightened up now. He had an earphone in one ear canal and said, "I should be able to establish communication." He said, "Are you there? Grotto. -Grotto."
Then he smiled. "Yes. We are, to this point, safe. - I'm sorry, but as I told you, it was either communicate or steer. - How is it at your end? - What? Repeat that, more slowly. - Yes, I thought so."
He turned to the others. "Comrades," he said, "Academician Pyotr Leonovich Shapirov is dead. Thirteen minutes ago, all vital signs ceased and our task now is to leave the body."