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Lucky, through the endless torture, felt a striving within his sluggish, pain-soaked mind, the
stirring of something new.
No bribe? No threat?
No bribe?
Even through the misty semiconsciousness, the spark in his mind caught fire.
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He abandoned the radio, turned his thoughts away, and instantly the curtain of pain lifted a
fraction. Lucky took a faltering step away from the radio, and it lifted a bit more. He turned away
completely.
Lucky tried not to think. He tried to act automatically and without foreplanning. They were
concentrating on preventing his reaching the radio. They must not realize the other danger they faced. The
pitiless enemy must not deduce his intentions and try to stop him. He would have to act quickly. They
must not stop him.
They must not!
He had reached the first-aid wall chest and flung open its door. He could not see clearly, and
he lost precious seconds in fumbling.
The voice said, "What is your decision?" and the fierceness of pain began to clamp down upon
the young councilman once more.
Lucky had it a squat jar of bluish silicone. His fingers groped through what seemed
deadening cotton for the little catch that would shut off the paramagnetic microfield that held the jar's lid
closed and airtight.
He scarcely felt the little nudge as one fingernail caught the catch. He scarcely saw the lid
move to one side and fall off. He scarcely heard it hit the floor with the sound of metastic against metal.
Fuzzily, he could see that the jar was open, and hazily, he lifted his arm toward the trash ejector.
The pain had returned in all its fury.
His left arm had lifted the hinged opening of the ejector; his right arm tremblingly raised the
precious jar to the six-inch opening.
His arm moved for an eternity. He could no longer see. A red haze covered everything.
He felt his arm and the jar it held strike the wall. He pushed, but it would move no farther. The
fingers on his left hand inched down from where they held the opening of the trash ejector, and touched
the jar.
He daren't drop it now. If he did, he would never in his life find the strength to pick it up again.
He had it in both hands, and together both hands pulled at it. It inched upward, while Lucky
hovered closer and closer to the edge of unconsciousness.
And then the jar was gone!
A million miles away, it seemed, he could hear the whistle of compressed air, and he knew the
jar had been ejected into the warm Venusian ocean.
1 For a moment the pain wavered and then, in one giant stroke, lifted completely.
Lucky righted himself carefully and stepped away from the wall. His face and body were
drenched in perspiration, and his mind still reeled.
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As fast as his still faltering steps could take him, he moved to the radio transmitter, and this
time nothing stopped him.
Evans sat in a chair with his head buried in his arms. He had gulped thirstily at water and kept
saying over and over again, "I don't remember a thing. I don't remember a thing.
Bigman, bare to the waist, was mopping at his head and chest with a damp cloth, and a shaky
grin carne to his face. "I do. I remember everything. One minute I was standing there listening to you
talking to the voice, Lucky, and then with no warning I was flat on the floor. I couldn't feel a thing, I
couldn't turn my head, I couldn't even blink my eyes, but I could hear everything that was going on. I
could hear the voice and what you said, Lucky. I saw you start for the radio . . .
He puffed his breath out and shook his head.
"I never made it that first time, you know," said Lucky quietly.
"I couldn't tell. You passed out of my field of vision, and after that all I could do was lie there
and wait to hear you start sending. Nothing happened, and I kept thinking they must have you, too. In my
mind, I could see all three of us lying in living death. It was all over, and I couldn't nudge a thumbnail. It
was all I could do just to breathe. Then you moved back past my eyes again, and I wanted to laugh and
cry and yell all at the same time, but all I could do was lie there. I could just about make you out, Lucky,
clawing at the wall. I couldn't tell what on Venus you were doing, but a few minutes later it was all over.
Wow!
Evans said wearily, "And we're really heading back for Aphrodite now, Lucky? No mistake?
"We're heading back unless the instruments are lying, 123 and I don't think they
are," said Lucky. "When we do get back and we can spare the time, we'll all of us get a little medical
attention.
"Sleep!" insisted Bigman. "That's all I want. Just two days of solid sleep.
"You'll get that, too," said Lucky.
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