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With great deliberation, Konev said, "There's one thing we haven't tried yet. We've tried detection outside the neuron, inside the neuron, inside the axon, inside the dendrites, past the synapse, but, in every single case, we have tried it inside the ship, inside its presumably insulating walls."
"In that case, then," said Boranova, "are you suggesting that we make the attempt outside the ship and within the cell fluid itself? Remember, such an observer would still be inside a plastic suit."
"A plastic suit is not as thick as a plastic ship and the insulating effect would presumably be less. Besides, the computer itself need not be inside the suit."
Morrison said with gathering alarm, "Who do you have in mind for this?"
Konev looked at him coolly. "There is only one possibility, Albert. The computer is your design and is made to match your brain. You are, of necessity, the most sensitive to Shapirov's thoughts. It would be foolish in the highest degree to send out anyone else. I have you in mind for this, Albert."
Morrison's stomach clenched tightly. Not that! He couldn't be asked to do it again!
He tried to say so, but his mouth seemed to have dried completely and instantaneously and he could make no sound other than a throaty hiss. It flashed through his mind that he had been begi
"Not that!" he cried out, but it wasn't his voice; it was higher by an octave. It was Kaliinin.
She had turned around to face Boranova, holding herself down in her seat with knuckles standing out whitely.
"Not that, Natalya," she cried again passionately, her chest heaving in excitement. "It's a cowardly suggestion. Poor Albert has been out there once already. He nearly died and if it hadn't been for him we might still be lost in the wrong capillary and we might never have reached this cell block at all. Why should he have to do that again? It is surely someone else's turn and since he wants it done" - no one questioned who "he" was - "let him do it. He should not ask it of someone else."
Morrison, beneath his own fright, wondered faintly if Kaliinin's emotion was due to a growing affection for him or a determination to oppose at every point any strong wish of Konev's. There was a corner of Morrison's mind that was pragmatic enough to be certain it was the latter.
Konev's face had grown slowly redder as Sophia spoke. He said, "There's no cowardice here." (He spat out the word, making it quite plain that that was what had most offended him.) "I am making the only possible suggestion. If I go out there, which I am perfectly willing to do, it can only be with Albert's device, which won't work as well for me as it would for him. We ca
"True," said Morrison, finding his voice now, "but there is no reason to suppose that reception will be better outside the ship than inside."
Konev said, "There is no reason to think the reverse, either. And as Dezhnev will tell you, our energy supply - and therefore our time - is decreasing. There is no room for delay. You'll have to leave the ship as you did before - and now."
Morrison said in a low voice, which he hoped would make the remark final, "I'm sorry. I will not leave the ship."
But Boranova had apparently made up her mind. "I'm afraid you'll have to, Albert," she said gently.
"No."
"Yuri is right. Only you and your device can give us the information we need."
"I am certain there'll be no information."
Boranova held out her two hands, palms upward. "Perhaps not, but we can't leave that a matter of conjecture. Let us find out."
"But -"
Boranova said, "Albert, I promise you that if you do this one thing for us, your part in all this will be reported honestly when the time comes for open publication. You will be known as the man who worked out the correct theory of thought, the man who developed the device that could exploit that theory properly, the man who saved the ship in the capillary, and the man who detected Shapirov's thinking by bravely venturing into the neuron, as earlier he had ventured into the bloodstream."
"Are you implying that the truth will not be told if I refuse?"
Boranova sighed. "You force me to play the role of villainess openly. I would rather you had been satisfied with the implication. - Yes, the truth need not be told. That, after all, is the only weapon I hold against you. We ca
Morrison looked around at his crewmates' faces, searching for help. Boranova - steadily studying him. Konev - staring him down imperiously. Dezhnev - looking awkward, not willing to commit himself either way. And Kaliinin… his only hope.
Morrison gazed at her thoughtfully and said, "What do you think, Sophia?"
Kaliinin hesitated, then said in a voice that did not tremble, "I think it is wrong to threaten you in this way. A task like this should be performed voluntarily and not under duress."
Dezhnev, who had been humming very softly to himself, now said, "My old father used to say: 'There is no duress like one's own conscience and it is that which makes life so needlessly bitter.'"
"My conscience doesn't trouble me in this matter," said Morrison. "Shall we put it to a vote?"
"It wouldn't matter," said Boranova. "I am the captain and in a case like this I alone have the vote."
"If I am out there and sense nothing, would you believe me?"
Boranova nodded. "I would. After all, you might so easily invent something that would sound useful if you wished us to be suitably grateful. If you come back with nothing or with trivia, I believe I would have a greater tendency to believe that than if you instantly claimed you had heard something of great importance."
Konev said, "I am not likely to be fooled. If he comes in with something that seems important, I will be able to tell if it truly is. And now, surely, we have had enough discussion. Let's go!"
And Morrison, his heart beating and his throat tightening, managed to say, "Very well, I will go - but only for a brief time."
Morrison, of his own accord, stripped himself of his cotton garment. The first time (was it really only a couple of hours before?) it had seemed to be a violation of modesty; this second time it was almost routine.
He was quite aware, as with Kaliinin's help he struggled into the suit, how easily he could suck in his abdomen. Despite a good breakfast, ample water, and a piece of chocolate, his stomach was empty and he was glad it was. He felt a twinge of nausea as the suit enclosed more and more of his body and to throw up, once enclosed, would have been unbearable. Just before enclosure, he refused another piece of chocolate with what was almost a shudder.
They put his computer into his sheathed hands and Boranova said to him loudly, "Can you work it?"
Morrison heard her without too much difficulty. He knew he wouldn't hear her once he was outside the ship. He balanced the essentially weightless computer in one hand and struck the keys carefully and rather gracelessly with the other. He shouted back, "I think I can manage."
Then, rather clumsily, they tied the computer to both his wrists with firm knots of tough plastic twine (probably the same material of which the suit and the ship itself were made).