“Hell, hell, hell!” he shouted in a falsetto. “Why did she have to break her bloody arm? Get your own bloody splints!” He kicked hard at a chair and then had to retrieve it and sit down as his heart was pounding so hard. The air pressure was definitely low now. They both felt dizzy with the high emotions they were suffering.
“Tony,” she said, close to tears. “Please help. Once we have her fixed up we can both try to get attention, but she needs us now.”
He shook his head violently, almost like a dog, and turned away from her, “No. No. She’s the doctor; let her cure herself. If it hadn’t been for her we’d have been in my cabin by now. To hell with her — and you too!” He began crying.
She was shocked. She saw that Bellini was scared, so scared that his reason was leaving him. She went back to McPrince who stared back up at her.
“Give me the case,” murmured McPrince nodding towards the case of ampoules on the table by the bed. Miriam tilted the case for her and laboriously McPrince extracted one of the tubes.
“After you have injected me put this in the gun. If he gets uncontrollable, shoot him with it. It will make him sleep.” Her face grew firmer as she rallied her low forces to deal with the problem on hand. “In the drawer to the left of the door are some heavy scissors. The shelves in the soap store are plastic…you can cut them. Get four.…”
Miriam ran into the surgery. Bellini sat with his head in his hands and did not stir as she went by. She found the drawer open and the instruments scattered on the floor. She took the scissors and ran back. In the soap store it was dark but there were bits of shelf everywhere. She dragged out some pieces and using both hands on the scissors cut them to equal lengths. She returned to the bed and showed them to McPrince, who nodded.
“Inject me now.” A finger came across her body and pointed to a spot on her damaged upper arm, “Here and here,” And as Miriam hesitated: “It won’t hurt me.”
Miriam picked up the hateful gun and placed it where indicated. She pulled the trigger and there was an almost imperceptible psst.
“Now here,” breathed McPrince. More confidently Miriam fired the second shot.
“I shall set the bones in line,” said McPrince. “Get the bandages ready to bind the splints on when I tell you. Put some cloth round the splints so they don’t dig in as you bind them.”
While Miriam wrapped the strips, McPrince’s good hand began to explore, exerting more and more pressure as she steeled herself. A faint dry sound sickened Miriam. “Crepitus,” hissed McPrince through clenched teeth.
“Get ready. Don’t worry about me. Just do your job.” She suddenly pushed and twisted at her arm, arching her back at the pain and turning her head away to conceal it from Miriam. “Do it,” came her husky whisper. She kept a grip on her arm.
Miriam knew only that she must be quick and gentle, no flinching, no tears, cool, an ally to this brave woman. She pushed away every thought of herself. She positioned the strips around the limb, holding them loosely in place by quick twists of narrow bandage, then starting near the shoulder began winding the wider bandage round and round.
“Tighter,” murmured McPrince. She looked into Miriam’s intent face and smiled. “All over. Thank you, Miriam. I don’t know what I could have done without you.” Miriam smiled back as she worked,
“How does your back feel?” she asked professionally.
“Fine,” said McPrince. “What did you use?”
When she had finished Miriam held up the jar of ointment. “Can I get you something for the shock now?” she asked.
McPrince nodded and gave directions. “Keep the gun with you,” she reminded Miriam. “Load it with the tube I showed you.”
Miriam looked apprehensive. “Do you really think he would attack me? He saved my life when the water escaped.”
“He might not mean it but he might come to believe you are the cause of his predicament and then he might want to hurt you. Take the gun. Keep it in your pocket.”
Miriam marched into the surgery like soldiers used to march into battle: head up, face grim, muscles taut, waiting for death. Bellini watched her silently from where he sat. She searched amongst the bottles for the one McPrince wanted, but she kept one eye on Bellini.
“I’m hungry,” he said suddenly. “I want my breakfast.” His beautiful face was belligerently set against her. “Where is the food?”
She snatched at the bottle. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “There’s no food here.” She turned to the ward door.
“What’s that you’ve got there?” he demanded, and stood up.
“It’s for the shock,” said Miriam, and took a step towards the door.
“Show me,” he said, and with a quick step of his own was in front of her holding out his hand.
“Tony, don’t be ridiculous.”
His hand darted forward and seized her wrist. He pulled her to him. She held the bottle wide from him but he took no notice of it. His face dominated her no more than six inches away. There was perspiration on his forehead.
“Bitch! We’re going to die in here. Suffocate. Don’t you understand that? We’re the only ones left on the ship. In a day we shall be dead. And you play about with her. Before we die, I must have you. I love you. Give me this before we die.” His arms had encircled her and his lips strained towards her as she strained away.
There was a look of desperation on the edge of panic in his eyes and she could feel his body trembling against her.
This wasn’t an upwelling of love for her, it was a child trying to forget a nightmare in its parent’s arms. She recovered a little from his attack.
“No. Not now, Tony,” she managed to gasp. “Perhaps when we are sure.”
He wasn’t listening to her. One leg crooked behind her and with the weight of his body he bore her backwards so that they crumpled to the floor, she underneath. Before she could get her breath his mouth pressed against hers and his hands began to tear her clothes apart. The panic that had triggered off this attack took away his last trace of humanity. He snarled into her face while his hands shredded the light blouse she was wearing. His fingers came to the top of her skirt, and it was then she remembered the hypogun in the skirt pocket.
She let his hand go where it willed while she groped in the pocket and drew out the gun. She pressed it against his back and pulled the trigger. For a second the animal lust remained on his face, then a look of bewilderment swept all else away. He raised himself slightly from her and then rolled to one side and began to snore. Shaken, Miriam scrambled to her feet and ran into the ward. McPrince was half up in bed on her good elbow trying to swing her legs from under the blankets.
“No, no,” gasped Miriam. “Get back. I’m all right.” She helped McPrince to lie flat again. “I shot him with the gun. He’s asleep.” When McPrince was settled she asked: “How long will he sleep?”
“Two or three hours. What are you going to do about him?”
Miriam sat on the bed and thought, shaking from time to time. She was not averse to love making with Bellini, had adored it in his cabin, but this Bellini was halfway to being mad and that chilled her, If she had succumbed to him that would not have appeased his fear of dying no more than one boulder stops a flood stream, After rape would come other violence, and as the end got nearer nothing less than killing would relieve his tension. He had to be locked up. She looked around the small ward and then walked to the sagging door connecting with the surgery. She stood looking down at the sprawled figure of Tony Bellini and marveled at how quickly she had recovered from his assault. She was thinking as coolly about him as if he had been an item of furniture to be moved from one side of the room to the other,