Isaac Asimov by Fantastic Voyage Read Free Book Online Page B

drink, or eat, if you wish, while this is going on. Do any of you have any urgent point to make?”
    Grant said, suddenly, “I haven’t volunteered, general. I decline the post and suggest you find a substitute.”
    “You’re not a volunteer, Grant, and your offer to decline is declined. Gentlemen—and Miss Peterson—Mr. Grant has been chosen to accompany the expedition for a variety of reasons. For one thing, it was he who brought Benes to this country, managing that assignment with complete skill.”
    All eyes turned to Grant, who felt himself wincing at the momentary expectation that there would be a polite patter of applause. There was none, and he relaxed.
    Carter went on. “He is a communications expert and an experienced frogman. He has a record of resourcefulness and flexibility and is professionally capable of making instant decisions. For that reason I will place the power of making policy decisions in his hands once the voyage begins. Is that understood?”
    It apparently was, and Grant, staring in annoyance at his fingertips, said, “Apparently it is up to the rest of you to do your jobs while I take care of emergencies. I am sorry but I wish to state for the record that I do not consider myself qualified for this post.”
    “The statement is recorded,” said Carter, unembarrassed, “and we will go on. Captain Owens has designed an experimental submarine for oceanographic research. It is not ideally suited for the task at hand, but it is itself at hand, and there is no other vessel in existence that is better suited. Owens himself will, of course, be at the controls of his ship, the
Proteus
.
    “Dr. Michaels will be the pilot. He has prepared and studied the map of Benes’ circulatory system, which we will shortly consider. Dr. Duval and his assistant will be in charge of the actual operation, the removal of the clot.
    “You all know the importance of this mission. We hope for a successful operation and for your safe return. There is the chance that Benes may die during the operation, but that becomes a certainty if the mission is not undertaken. There is a chance that the ship may be lost, but under the circumstances, I am afraid that ship and crew are expendable. The possible price is large but the gain we seek—I don’t mean the CMDF only, but all mankind—is greater.”
    Grant muttered under his breath, “Yea, team.”
    Cora Peterson caught it and looked at him with brief penetration from under dark eyelashes. Grant flushed.
    Carter said, “Show them the chart, Michaels.”
    Michaels pressed a button on the instrument before him and the wall lit up with the tri-dimensional map of Benes’circulatory system that Grant had last seen in Michaels’ office. It seemed to rush toward them and enlarge as Michaels turned a knob. What was left of the circulatory network made up the clear delineation of a head and neck.
    The blood vessels stood out with an almost fluorescent brilliance and then grid lines appeared across it. A thin dark arrow darted into the field, manipulated by the photo-pointer in Michaels’ hand. Michaels did not rise but remained seated in his chair, one arm over its back.
    “The clot,” he said, “is there.” It had not been visible to Grant’s eyes, at least until it had been pointed out, but now that the black arrow delicately marked out its limits, Grant could see it—a small solid nodule plugging an arteriole.
    “It represents no immediate danger to life, but this section of the brain” (the arrow danced about) “is suffering from nerve compression and may already have experienced damage. Dr. Duval tells me that the effects may be irreversible in twelve hours or less. An attempt to operate in the ordinary manner will involve cutting through the skull either here, here, or here. In each of these three cases, unavoidable damage will be extensive and the results doubtful.
    “On the other hand, we could attempt to reach the clot via the bloodstream. If we can enter the