Isaac Asimov - Fantastic Voyage II - Destination Brain

Morrison watched a platelet that vanished, now and then, behind the numerous red corpuscles. He wanted to see if it would make contact with the ship and, if it did, what would happen. The platelet, however, did not oblige but remained at a distance.

It then occurred to Morrison that the platelet appeared to be as large as his hand. How could that be if they were half the diameter of the red corpuscles and the red corpuscles were themselves as large as his hand? His eyes sought out a red call and, sure enough, it seemed considerably larger than his hand.

He said, troubled, "The objects out there are getting larger."

"We're still miniaturizing, obviously," called out Konev, apparently annoyed at Morrison's seeming inability to draw the proper conclusion from an observed fact.

Boranova said, "That's right, Albert. The coronary is narrowing as we progress and we want to keep pace with it."

"We don't want to get stuck in the pipe," said Dezhnev genially, "by being too fat." Then, as another thought struck him, he added, "You know, Natasha, I've never been this thin in my life."

Boranova said, unmoved, "You are as fat as ever, Arkady, on the scale of Planck's constant."

Morrison was in no mood for airy banter. "But how far do we miniaturize, Natalya?"

"Down to molecular size, Albert."

And all of Morrison's apprehensions surged up again.

Morrison felt foolish at his failure to realize at once that they were still miniaturizing and, at the same time, bitterly resentful at Konev for making it plain he recognized that folly. The trouble was that all these others had been living and thinking miniaturization for years and he himself, a newcomer to the concept, was still trying to cram it into his reluctant brain. Couldn't they sympathize with his difficulties?

He studied the red corpuscles moodily. They were distinctly larger. They were wider across than his chest and their boundaries were becoming less sharp. Their surfaces quivered, as though they were canvas bags full of syrup.

He said in a low voice to Kaliinin, "Molecular size?"

Kaliinin looked quickly at him, then turned away and said, "Yes."

Morrison said, "I don't know why that should bother me, considering the small size to which we have already miniaturized, but there's something rather frightening about being as small as a molecule. How small a molecule, do you suppose?"

Kaliinin shrugged. "I don't know. That's up to Natalya. A virus molecule, perhaps."

"But this sort of thing has never been tried."

Kaliinin shook her head. "We're charting unknown territory."

There was a pause and then Morrison said uneasily, "Aren't you afraid?"

She looked at him furiously, but continued to whisper. "Of course I'm afraid. What do you think I am? It isn't sensible not to be afraid when you have rational reason for it. I was afraid when I was violated. I was afraid when I was pregnant and deserted. I've spent half my life being afraid. Everyone does. That's why people drink as much as they do, to wipe out the fear that grips them." She was virtually hissing through clenched teeth. "Do you want me to be sorry for you because you're afraid?"

"No," muttered Morrison, taken aback.

"There's nothing remarkable about being afraid," she went on, "as long as you don't act afraid - as long as you don't let yourself be twisted into doing nothing because of fear, into having hysterics because of fear, into failing -" She interrupted herself in a bitter, whispered self-accusation. "I've had hysterics in my time." Her glance flickered in the direction of Konev, whose back was straight, stiff, and motionless.

"But now," she went on, "I intend to do my part, even if I am half-dead with fear. No one will tell from my actions that I'm afraid. And that had better be your case, too, Mr. American."

Morrison swallowed hard and he said, "Yes, of course," but it sounded very unconvincing, even to him.

His eyes flicked backward, then forward. There was no use whispering in those close quarters. There was no whisper so low it would not be overheard.

Boranova, behind Kaliinin, was obviously busy with her miniaturization mechanism, but there was a tiny smile on her face. Approval? Contempt? Morrison couldn't tell.

As for Dezhnev, he turned his head and called out, "Natasha, it is continuing to narrow. Should you hasten the miniaturization?"

"I'll do what is needed, Arkady."

Dezhnev's eye caught Morrison's and he winked, with a grin. "Don't believe little Sophia," he said, pretending to whisper. "She is not afraid. Never afraid. She just doesn't want you to be alone with your uneasiness. She has a very soft heart, our Sophia, as soft as her -"

"Keep quiet, Arkady," said Sophia. "Surely your father must have told you that it is not wise to beat the empty teapot you call your head with the rusty spoon you call your tongue."

"Ah," said Dezhnev, rolling his eyes, "that was harsh. What my father did say was that no knife could be honed as sharp as a woman's tongue. - But, Albert, seriously, reaching molecular size is nothing. Wait until we have learned to attach relativity to quantum theory and then, with a tiny puff of energy, we will reduce ourselves to subatomic size. Then you will see."

"What will I see?" said Morrison.

"You would see instant acceleration. We would simply take off -" He removed his hands from the controls momentarily in order to make a whizzing gesture with them, accompanied by a shrill whistle.

Boranova said calmly, "Hands on the controls, Arkady."

"Of course, my dear Natasha," said Dezhnev, "A moment of excusable drama, no more." Then to Morrison, "Instantly we would go at nearly the speed of light, the much faster speed of light under such conditions. In ten minutes we could be across the Galaxy, in three hours at the Andromeda, in two years at the nearest quasar. And if that's not fast enough, we can get smaller still. We have faster-than-light travel, we have antigravity, we have everything. The Soviet Union will lead the way to it all."

Morrison said, "And how would you guide the flight, Arkady?"

"What?"

"How would you guide it?" said Morrison seriously. "As soon as the ship swoops down to the proper sizelessness and masslessness, it will, in effect, radiate outward at hundreds of light-years per second. That means that if there were trillions of ships, they would shoot out in every direction with spherical symmetry - like sunlight. But since there would only be one ship, it would move outward in one particular direction, but in an absolutely unpredictable one."

"That's a problem for the clever theoreticians - like Yuri."

Konev had not indicated any interest in the conversation up to that point, but now he snorted loudly.

Morrison said, "I'm not sure that it's wise to develop the traveling and carelessly assume the steering. Wouldn't your father say: 'A wise man does not build the roof of a house first.'"

"He might," said Arkady, "but what he once did say was this: 'If you find a gold key without a lock, don't throw it away. The gold is also sufficient.'"

Boranova stirred in her seat behind Morrison and said, "Enough with the saws and sayings, my friends. - Where are we, Yuri? Are we making progress?"

Konev said, "In my opinion we are, but I would like the American to support my judgment, or correct it."

"How can I do either?" snapped Morrison. "I'm strapped in."

"Then unstrap," said Konev. "if you float a bit, at least you can't float very far."

For a moment, Morrison fumbled at his seat belt, having forgotten the location of the appropriate contact. Kaliinin's hand moved quickly and he was free.

"Thank you, Sophia," he said.

"You will learn," she replied indifferently.

"Lift yourself so that you can see over my shoulder," said Konev.