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Authors: James White
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Walters between coughs, "do you have -- a band-aid on you?"
"What?" said McCullough, then added with feeling, "Dammit, I'm stupid !"
A length of adhesive with its washable plastic backing would not hold the
tear together in vacuo, but with pressure almost equal between chamber
and suit interior it would act as a barrier to the entry of the alien
air all around them -- for a time, at least. Quickly McCullough took a
dressing from his kit and pressed the edges of the tear together while
Walters rubbed on the tape.
When they were finished McCullough said, "How do you feel? Any pain in
the chest? Nausea? Impairment of vision . . . ?"
Walters shook his head. Almost strangling himself with his effort not to
cough, he said, "The -- the smell is like ammonia -- or formaldehyde.
Strong and sharp but not -- a stinking smell. But you'd better tell
the colonel."
McCullough nodded and laid his antenna against the metal wall.
The colonel interrupted him only once to ask what the pilot had been
doing out in the corridor, then he told McCullough to continue with his
report without trying to make excuses for Walters' stupidity. The doctor
did so, spending less time on the incident itself than on the problems
it had raised.
"Can you tie off the leg section tightly enough to avoid a lethal
pressure drop for the few minutes it will take to get him back to P-Two?
It would mean decompressing the leg, of course, but that would be better
than . . ."
"No, sir. The tear is high on the left hip. We can't evacuate the chamber
while he is in it, and I can't leave and nobody from outside can enter
unless . . ."
". . . Unless Walters goes back into the corridor while the chamber
is airless. Ask him how he feels about doing that."
The pilot's reply had to be edited and censored considerably. McCullough
said, "He'll do it, but he doesn't feel too enthusiastic."
Morrison refused to comment on Walters' feelings. He said, "That takes
care of your return, but getting him back to P-Two means putting him in
another suit . . ."
There were several good reasons why the P-ships did not carry spare
spacesuits. Quite apart from the extra weight and stowage requirements
involved, there was the fact that a spacesuit had to be literally tailored
to fit its wearer, and this would have meant carrying a spare for every
member of the expedition. As well, damage to a suit usually meant death
for its wearer, so that repairs were not even considered. In any case,
repairing a suit was a specialist's job requiring facilities not available
on the ships.
"Both Hollis and Berryman are close to Walters in size," the
colonel went on, "and Berryman is closest in distance. I'll shoot
Drew across to you. While he's on the way, Berryman can place his suit in
P-Two's airlock. Drew will pick it up and deliver it to you for Walters
and collect your air sample.
"You, Doctor, will stay with Walters to see that his seals are tight
and the suit isn't strained dangerously by forcing the fit. As well as
losing one of our trained pilots, we can't afford to write off another
suit. What is his condition now?"
Walters had his antenna in contact with the plating, listening. He tried
to speak, broke into a fit of coughing, and made a rude gesture instead.
McCullough translated, "He has a persistent cough which may be due
to throat irritation only. There are no other respiratory symptoms,
no chest pain and no detectable toxic affects. His morale is good."
The doctor did not know these things with any degree of certainty --
his optimism was mostly for his patient's benefit. But just in case the
colonel did not realize what McCullough was doing, he added quickly,
"But I'd like to give him a thorough checkup in shirt-sleeve conditions
as soon as possible."
A little later Morrison told them Drew was on his way and that he was
moving his
"What?" said McCullough, then added with feeling, "Dammit, I'm stupid !"
A length of adhesive with its washable plastic backing would not hold the
tear together in vacuo, but with pressure almost equal between chamber
and suit interior it would act as a barrier to the entry of the alien
air all around them -- for a time, at least. Quickly McCullough took a
dressing from his kit and pressed the edges of the tear together while
Walters rubbed on the tape.
When they were finished McCullough said, "How do you feel? Any pain in
the chest? Nausea? Impairment of vision . . . ?"
Walters shook his head. Almost strangling himself with his effort not to
cough, he said, "The -- the smell is like ammonia -- or formaldehyde.
Strong and sharp but not -- a stinking smell. But you'd better tell
the colonel."
McCullough nodded and laid his antenna against the metal wall.
The colonel interrupted him only once to ask what the pilot had been
doing out in the corridor, then he told McCullough to continue with his
report without trying to make excuses for Walters' stupidity. The doctor
did so, spending less time on the incident itself than on the problems
it had raised.
"Can you tie off the leg section tightly enough to avoid a lethal
pressure drop for the few minutes it will take to get him back to P-Two?
It would mean decompressing the leg, of course, but that would be better
than . . ."
"No, sir. The tear is high on the left hip. We can't evacuate the chamber
while he is in it, and I can't leave and nobody from outside can enter
unless . . ."
". . . Unless Walters goes back into the corridor while the chamber
is airless. Ask him how he feels about doing that."
The pilot's reply had to be edited and censored considerably. McCullough
said, "He'll do it, but he doesn't feel too enthusiastic."
Morrison refused to comment on Walters' feelings. He said, "That takes
care of your return, but getting him back to P-Two means putting him in
another suit . . ."
There were several good reasons why the P-ships did not carry spare
spacesuits. Quite apart from the extra weight and stowage requirements
involved, there was the fact that a spacesuit had to be literally tailored
to fit its wearer, and this would have meant carrying a spare for every
member of the expedition. As well, damage to a suit usually meant death
for its wearer, so that repairs were not even considered. In any case,
repairing a suit was a specialist's job requiring facilities not available
on the ships.
"Both Hollis and Berryman are close to Walters in size," the
colonel went on, "and Berryman is closest in distance. I'll shoot
Drew across to you. While he's on the way, Berryman can place his suit in
P-Two's airlock. Drew will pick it up and deliver it to you for Walters
and collect your air sample.
"You, Doctor, will stay with Walters to see that his seals are tight
and the suit isn't strained dangerously by forcing the fit. As well as
losing one of our trained pilots, we can't afford to write off another
suit. What is his condition now?"
Walters had his antenna in contact with the plating, listening. He tried
to speak, broke into a fit of coughing, and made a rude gesture instead.
McCullough translated, "He has a persistent cough which may be due
to throat irritation only. There are no other respiratory symptoms,
no chest pain and no detectable toxic affects. His morale is good."
The doctor did not know these things with any degree of certainty --
his optimism was mostly for his patient's benefit. But just in case the
colonel did not realize what McCullough was doing, he added quickly,
"But I'd like to give him a thorough checkup in shirt-sleeve conditions
as soon as possible."
A little later Morrison told them Drew was on his way and that he was
moving his
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