of sense to the head and
turn the light on his face. His head is turned sideways and his fist
is clenched against the side of his neck. When I touch it his hand
falls open and five discharged ampoules fall out.
Pain-killer.
Maximum dose, one ampoule.
All that talk was just to hold my attention while he fixed the needles
and--
I left the kit spread out right next to him.
While I am taking this in some small cold corner of my mind is
remembering the instructions that are on the pain-killer ampoule; it
does not say, outright, that it is the last refuge for men in the
extremity of pain and despair; therefore it cannot say, outright, that
they sometimes despair too soon; but it does tell you the name of the
antidote.
There are only three ampoules of this and they also say, maximum dose
one ampoule. I try to work it out but lacking all other information
the best I can do is inject two and keep one till later. I put that
one in my pocket.
The stretcher is all expanded now; a very thin but quite rigid grid,
six feet by two; I lash him on it without changing his position and
fasten the helmet over his head.
Antigrav; the straps just go round him and the stretcher.
I point the thing up towards the trap door and give it a gentle push;
then I scramble up the rungs and get there just in time to guide it
through. It takes a knock then and some more while I am getting it
down to the next partition, but he can't feel it.
This time I find the door, because the roar of noise behind it acts as
a guide. The sea is getting up and is dashing halfway to the door as I
crawl through. My boat is awash, pivoting to and fro on the grips of
the front "limbs."
I grab it, release the limbs and pull it as far back as the door. I
maneuver the stretcher on top and realize there is nothing to fasten
it with ... except the antigrav, I get that undone, holding the
stretcher in balance, and manage to put it under the stretcher and
pass the straps between the bars of the grid ... then round the little
boat, and the buckle just grips the last inch. It will hold, though.
* * * * *
I set the boat to face the broken end of the ship, but I daren't put
it farther back than the doorway; I turn the antigrav to half, fasten
the limb-grips and rush back towards the nose of the ship. Silver knob
under the dial. I turn it down, hear the thing begin a fast, steady
ticking, and turn and run.
Twenty minutes.
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