"No, Lizzie. We can't. Don't you remember? If we got caught, it would
give everything away. Besides ... there isn't any chance--"
"Take a look at the screen," I tell her.
Sharp exclamation from Mr. Yardo. B turns to look, then takes the
package and helps me back.
* * * * *
Mr. Yardo maneuvers out over the sea till the thing is in the middle
of the screen; then drops to a hundred feet. It is sticking out of the
water at a fantastic angle and the waves are hardly moving it. The
nose of a ship.
"The antigrav," whispers B. "The Andite hasn't blown yet."
"Ten minutes," says Mr. Yardo thoughtfully. He turns to me with sudden
briskness. "What's that, Lizzie girl? A fish-boat? Good. We may need
it. Let's have a look."
"It's mine," I tell him.
"Now look--"
"Tailor made," I say. "You might get into it, though I doubt it. You
couldn't work the controls."
It takes him fifteen seconds to realize there is no way round it; he
is six foot three and I am five foot one. Even B would find it hard.
His face goes grayish and he stares at me helplessly. Finally he nods.
"All right, Lizzie. I guess we have to try it. Things certainly can't
be much worse than they are. We'll go over to the beach there."
On the beach there is wind and spray and breakers but nothing
unmanageable; the cliffs on either side keep off the worst of the
force. It is queer to feel moving air after eighteen days in a ship.
It takes six minutes to unpack and expand the boat and by that time it
is ten minutes since the missile hit and the Andite has not blown.
I crawl into the boat. In my protective clothing it is a fairly tight
fit. We agree that I will return to this same point and they will
start looking for me in fifty minutes' time and will give up if I have
not returned in two hours. I take two Andite cartridges to deal with
all eventualities and snap the nose of the boat into place. At first I
am very conscious of the two little white cigars in the pouch of my
suit, but presently I have other things to think about.
I use the "limbs" to crawl the last few yards of shingle into the
water and on across the sea bottom till I am beyond the line of
breakers; then I turn on the motor. I have already set the controls to
"home" on _Gilgamesh_ and the radar will steer me off any
obstructions. This journey in the dark is as safe as my trip around
the reefs before all this started--though it doesn't feel that way.
It takes twelve minutes to reach _Gilgamesh_, or rather the fragment
that antigrav is supporting; it is about half a mile from the beach.
The radar stops me six feet from her and I switch it off and turn to
Manual and inch closer in.
Lights, a very small close beam. The missile struck her about one
third of her length behind the nose. I know, because I can see the
whole of that length. It is hanging just above the water, sloping at
about 30° to the horizontal. The ragged edge where it was torn from
the rest is just dipping into the sea.
If anyone sees this, I don't know what they will make of it but no one
could possibly think an ordinary spaceship suffered an ordinary crash,
and very little investigation would show up the truth.
I reach up with the forward set of "limbs" and grapple on to the
break. I now have somehow to get the hind set of "limbs" up without
losing my grip. I can't.
It takes several minutes to realize that I can just open the nose and
crawl out.
Immediately a wave hits me in the face and does its best to drag me
into the sea. However the interior of the ship is relatively sheltered
and presently I am inside and dragging the boat up out of reach.
I need light. Presently I manage to detach one of the two from the
boat. I turn it down to minimum close beam and hang it round my neck;
then I start up the black jag-edged tunnel of the ship.
I have to get to the nose, find the fuse, change the setting to twenty
minutes--maximum possible--and get out before it blows--out of the
water I mean. The fish-boat is not constructed to take explosions even
half a mile away. But the first thing is to find the fuse and I cannot
make out how _Gilgamesh_ is lying and therefore cannot find the door
through this bulkhead; everything is ripped and twisted. In the end I
find a gap between the bulkhead itself and the hull, and squeeze
through that.
In the next compartment things are more recognizable and I eventually
find the door. Fortunately ships are designed so that you can get
through doors even when they are in the ceiling; actually here I have
to climb up an overhang, but the surface is provided with rungs which
make it not too bad. Finally I reach the door. I shall have to use
antigrav to get down ... why didn't I just turn it on and jump? I
forgot I had it.
The door was a little way open when the missile struck; it buckled in
its grooves and is jammed fast. I can get an arm through. No more. I
switch on antigrav and hang there directing the light round the
compartment. No rents anywhere, just buckling. This compartment is
divided by a partition and the door through that is open. There will
be another door into the nose on the other side.