within the
Proteus
. If the opacity were spreading out and the ship shrinking further, there was no way of telling.
Grant did not speak in that interval of time, nor did anyone else. It seemed to last forever. And then the light of the miniaturizer went out and Owens cried out, “Is everyone all right?”
Duval said, “I’m fine.” Cora nodded. Grant lifted a reassuring hand. Michaels shrugged slightly and said, “I’m all right.”
“Good! I think we’re at full miniaturization now,” said Owens.
He flipped a switch which hitherto he had not touched. For an anxious moment, he waited for a dial to come to life. It did, with a dark and sharp 60 limned upon it. A similar dial, lower in the ship and visible to the other four, recorded the same.
The wireless rattled harshly and Grant sent back the ALL WELL. For a moment, it was as though some climax had been reached.
Grant said, “They say outside we’re at full miniaturization. You guessed correctly, Captain Owens.”
“And here we are,” said Owens, sighing audibly.
Grant thought: Miniaturization is complete but the mission isn’t. It’s just beginning. Sixty. Sixty minutes.
Aloud, he said, “Captain Owens. Why is the ship vibrating? Is there anything wrong?”
Michaels said, “I feel it. It’s an uneven vibration.”
“I feel it, too,” said Cora.
Owens came down from the bubble, mopping his forehead with a large handkerchief.
“We can’t help this. It’s Brownian motion.”
Michaels raised his hands with an “Oh, lord,” of helpless and resigned understanding.
Grant said, “Whose motion?”
“Brown’s if you must know. Robert Brown, an eighteenth-century Scottish botanist, who first observed it. You see, we’re being bombarded by water molecules from all sides. If we were full-size, the molecules would be so tiny in comparison that their collisions wouldn’t affect. However, the fact that we’re tremendously miniaturized brings about the same results that would follow if we had remained constant and everything in our surroundings had been greatly magnified.”
“Like the water all around.”
“Exactly. So far, we’re not badly off. The water around us has been partly miniaturized with us. When we get into the bloodstream, though, each water molecule—on our present scale—will weigh a milligram or so. They will still be too small to affect us individually, but thousands will be striking us simultaneously from all directions, and those strikes won’t be distributed evenly. Several hundred more might strike from the right than from the left at any given instant, and the combined force of those several hundred extra will shove us toward the left. The next instant we may be forced a bit downward and so on. This vibration we feel now is the result of such random molecular strikes. It will be worse later on.
“Fine,” groaned Grant. “Nausea, here I come.”
“It will only be for an hour at most,” said Cora, angrily. “I wish you would act more grown up.”
Michaels said, with obvious worry, “Can the ship take the battering, Owens?”
Owens said, “I think so. I tried to make some calculations concerning it in advance. From what I feel now, I think my estimates weren’t far off. This can be endured.”
Cora said, “Even if the ship is battered and crushed, it’s bound to stand up under the bombardment for a little while. If everything goes well, we can get to the clot and take care of it in fifteen minutes or less and after that it really doesn’t matter.”
Michaels brought his fist down on the armrest of his chair. “Miss Peterson, you are speaking nonsense. What do you suppose would happen, if we managed to reach the clot, destroy it, restore Benes to health and then have the
Proteus
smashed to rubble immediately afterward? I mean, aside from our deaths which I am ready to consider nothing for the sake of further argument? It would mean Benes’ death, too.”
“We understand that,” broke in Duval,
Proteus
. If the opacity were spreading out and the ship shrinking further, there was no way of telling.
Grant did not speak in that interval of time, nor did anyone else. It seemed to last forever. And then the light of the miniaturizer went out and Owens cried out, “Is everyone all right?”
Duval said, “I’m fine.” Cora nodded. Grant lifted a reassuring hand. Michaels shrugged slightly and said, “I’m all right.”
“Good! I think we’re at full miniaturization now,” said Owens.
He flipped a switch which hitherto he had not touched. For an anxious moment, he waited for a dial to come to life. It did, with a dark and sharp 60 limned upon it. A similar dial, lower in the ship and visible to the other four, recorded the same.
The wireless rattled harshly and Grant sent back the ALL WELL. For a moment, it was as though some climax had been reached.
Grant said, “They say outside we’re at full miniaturization. You guessed correctly, Captain Owens.”
“And here we are,” said Owens, sighing audibly.
Grant thought: Miniaturization is complete but the mission isn’t. It’s just beginning. Sixty. Sixty minutes.
Aloud, he said, “Captain Owens. Why is the ship vibrating? Is there anything wrong?”
Michaels said, “I feel it. It’s an uneven vibration.”
“I feel it, too,” said Cora.
Owens came down from the bubble, mopping his forehead with a large handkerchief.
“We can’t help this. It’s Brownian motion.”
Michaels raised his hands with an “Oh, lord,” of helpless and resigned understanding.
Grant said, “Whose motion?”
“Brown’s if you must know. Robert Brown, an eighteenth-century Scottish botanist, who first observed it. You see, we’re being bombarded by water molecules from all sides. If we were full-size, the molecules would be so tiny in comparison that their collisions wouldn’t affect. However, the fact that we’re tremendously miniaturized brings about the same results that would follow if we had remained constant and everything in our surroundings had been greatly magnified.”
“Like the water all around.”
“Exactly. So far, we’re not badly off. The water around us has been partly miniaturized with us. When we get into the bloodstream, though, each water molecule—on our present scale—will weigh a milligram or so. They will still be too small to affect us individually, but thousands will be striking us simultaneously from all directions, and those strikes won’t be distributed evenly. Several hundred more might strike from the right than from the left at any given instant, and the combined force of those several hundred extra will shove us toward the left. The next instant we may be forced a bit downward and so on. This vibration we feel now is the result of such random molecular strikes. It will be worse later on.
“Fine,” groaned Grant. “Nausea, here I come.”
“It will only be for an hour at most,” said Cora, angrily. “I wish you would act more grown up.”
Michaels said, with obvious worry, “Can the ship take the battering, Owens?”
Owens said, “I think so. I tried to make some calculations concerning it in advance. From what I feel now, I think my estimates weren’t far off. This can be endured.”
Cora said, “Even if the ship is battered and crushed, it’s bound to stand up under the bombardment for a little while. If everything goes well, we can get to the clot and take care of it in fifteen minutes or less and after that it really doesn’t matter.”
Michaels brought his fist down on the armrest of his chair. “Miss Peterson, you are speaking nonsense. What do you suppose would happen, if we managed to reach the clot, destroy it, restore Benes to health and then have the
Proteus
smashed to rubble immediately afterward? I mean, aside from our deaths which I am ready to consider nothing for the sake of further argument? It would mean Benes’ death, too.”
“We understand that,” broke in Duval,
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