From one of his pockets he took a sharp oversize scalpel, and began to cut around the edges.
The tumor throbbed convulsively.
"Well, well, I may have something here," he said, with a surgeon's pleasure. He dug deeper.
The tumor erupted. Great gobs of reddish liquid spurted out, and with one of them came another of the tadpole creatures, a small one, half the average size of those he had first encountered.
"Glory be," he muttered. "So that's the way they grow."
The creature sensed him and darted aside, in the direction of the valve. As it approached, the open valve froze in place, and let the small creature through, further into the host, without enlarging. Then the valve began to close again.
They're adapted to each other, he thought. Probably symbiosis, rather then a one-sided parasitism.
He moved upwards, toward the greenish liquid. An earthquake struck.
The flesh heaved up beneath his feet, tossing him head over heels into the pool. The first shock was followed by a second and third. A tidal wave hit him, and carried him to the side of the pool. He landed with a thud against the hard side and bounced back.
The sides began to constrict, hemming him in.
"Captain!" he yelled. "What's going on out there? What are you doing to the beast?"
"Trying to pry open its mouth. It doesn't seem to like the idea. It's threshing around against the walls of the ship."
"For God's sake, cut it out! It's giving me a beating in here."
They must have halted their efforts at once, for immediately afterwards the beast's movements became less convulsive. But it was some time before the spasmodic quivering of the side walls came to an end.
Dr. Meltzer climbed out of the pool of liquid, making an automatic and entirely useless gesture to wipe the new perspiration from his forehead.
"Is it better in there, Doctor?"
"It's better. Don't try that again," he panted.
"We have to get the mouth open some way."
"Try a bigger electric shock."
"If you want us to. But it may mean another beating for you, Doctor."
"Then wait a minute. Wait till I get near the upper part of the gullet."
"Whenever you say. Just tell us when you're ready."
Better be ready soon, he thought. My light's beginning to dim. When it goes out altogether, I'll probably be in a real panic. I'll be yelling for him to do anything, just to get me out of there.
And what about the suit and the oxygen lines? I think the digestive fluid's beginning to affect them. It's hard to be sure, now that the light's weakening, but they don't have the clear transparent look they had at first. And when they finally go, I go with them.
He tried to move forward faster, but the surface underfoot was slimy, and when he moved too hastily, he slipped. The lines were getting tangled too. Now that the creature's mouth was closed, it was no use tugging at the cord around his waist. That wouldn't get him up.
"Doctor Meltzer!"
He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled out his lancet and cut the useless cords away. The oxygen lines too were a nuisance, in constant danger of kinking and tangling, now that they were no longer taut. But at least the gas was still flowing through them and would continue to flow—until the digestive fluid ate through.
The tadpole creatures seemed to have developed a positive affection for him. They were all around him, not close enough for him to grab them, but too close for comfort. At any moment they might decide to take a nip out of his suit or an oxygen line. And with the plastic already weakened, even a slight tear might be fatal.
He reached the sharp slope that signified the gullet. "Dr. Meltzer?"
"What do you want?"
"Why didn't you answer?"
"I was busy. I cut the cords away from around my waist. Now I'm going to try climbing up inside this thing's throat."
"Shall we try that sharp electric shock?"
"Go ahead."
He had a pair of small surgical clamps, and he took one in each hand. The flashlight he put in a holder at his waist. Then, getting down on all fours, he began to crawl up, digging each pair of clamps into the flesh in turn to give him a grip. A slow wave ran away in both directions every time he inserted one of the pairs of clamps into the flesh, but otherwise the beast didn't seem to mind too much.
He was about halfway up, when the earthquakes began again. The first one sent him tumbling head over heels down the slope. The others added some slight injury to the insult, knocking him painfully against the walls. They must have used a powerful electric jolt, for some of it was transmitted through the creature to him, making his skin tingle. He hadn't lost his flashlight, but by now it was exceedingly dim, and shed only a feeble circle of light. Far ahead of him, where the mouth was to open, was blackness.
"No luck, Captain?"
"No luck, Doctor. We'll try again."
"Don't. You just make things worse."
"Larry, were you hurt? Larry—"
"Don't bother me now, Maida," he said roughly. "I have to figure out a way to get out."
A faint hiss came from the oxygen line. A leak. Time was growing short.
The tadpole creatures were swimming around faster now. They too must have been upset by the shock. One of them darted ahead of him, and wriggled ahead until it was lost in blackness.
That seems to be trying to get out too, he told himself. Maybe we can work this together. There must be some way, something to get this creature to open its mouth. Maybe the Captain can't do it from outside, but I'm in here, where the beast's most sensitive. I can hit it, slash at it, tickle it—
There's a thought. Tickle it. It's a monster, and it'll take some monstrous tickling, but sooner or later, something should affect it.
He stamped hard with his foot. No effect. He took his large lancet from his pocket and slashed viciously with it. A shudder ran through the flesh, but that was all.
And then he had an idea. That green liquid undoubtedly contained hormones. Hormones, enzymes, co-enzymes, antibiotics, biological chemicals of all kinds. Stuff to which some tissues would be adapted and some would not. And those that weren't would react violently.
He turned back, filled his hypodermic syringe with the greenish liquid, and ran forward again. The light was almost gone by now, and the hissing from the oxygen line was growing ominously, but he climbed forward as far as he could before plunging the hypodermic in and injecting its contents.
The creature heaved. He dropped hypodermic, light, and clamps, and let the huge shuddering take him where it would. First it lifted him high. Then it let him fall suddenly—not backwards, but in the same place. Two of the tadpole beasts were thrown against him. Then he was lifted way up again, and this time forward. A huge cavern opened before him. Light bathed the gray surface and he was vomited out.
The light begun to flicker, and he had time for one last thought. Oxygen lack, he told himself. My suit's ripped, the lines have finally torn.
And then blackness.
When he came to, Maida was at his side. He could see that she had been crying. The Captain stood a little further off, his face drawn, but relieved.
"Larry, dear, are you all right? We thought you'd never get out."
"I'm fine." He sat up and saw his two children, standing anxious and awestricken on the other side of the bed. Their silence showed how strongly they had been affected. "I hope you kids didn't worry too much about me."
"Of course I didn't worry," said Jerry bravely. "I knew you were smart, Dad. I knew you'd think of a way to get out."
"While we're on the subject," interposed the Captain, "What was the way out?"