To Prime the Pump - A. Bertram Chandler [27]
And then the pilot fish swept in to finish the job.
Chapter 14
He sprawled on the muddy bottom, his hand pressed to the rent in his suit, the rent in his skin. He could feel the warmth of blood. He did not know how badly he was injured, but, at this moment, the imminence of suffocation was of far greater importance than loss of blood. He feared that the pipes from his liquid air tanks to his helmet had been buckled or severed and then, agonisingly, he was able to breathe again. It was the blow to the stomach that had knocked all the air out of his lungs.
She was hanging in the murky water looking at him, her stubby weapon pointing directly at him. A woman with a gun can be a frightening sight; a naked woman with a gun is always clothed in deadly menace.
Grimes whispered hoarsely, "Put that down!"
At first he thought that she had not heard him, then, slowly, she let her hand fall until the muzzle, from which protruded the lethal head of a new dart, was directed downward.
She muttered, "I'm sorry . . ."
Grimes tried to laugh. "What for? You saved my life."
"Yes." There was an odd note of astonishment in her voice. "Yes. I did, didn't I?" She made a swimming motion toward him. "Are you hurt?"
"I don't know how badly. That brute kicked like a mule. And one of your bolts grazed me. At least, I think it was only a graze."
"Mr. Grimes, sir," came Anderson's voice. "Mr. Grimes, what's been happening? Shall I send help?"
"Just a slight tussle with the local fauna, Chief. I got a little beaten up, but nothing serious. I'm on my back to the wreck now."
"If I were you, sir, I'd surface and get back into the boat. I'll send Jones up to you. He's qualified in First Aid."
"Better do as the man says," advised the Princess. "I'll see you to your boat. Can you move?"
Grimes worked his arms and legs experimentally. "Yes. Nothing seems to be broken."
He detached the weights from his belt, let his buoyancy carry him upward. The girl floated alongside him. He could not help looking at her. She was beautiful in her nudity, and the few black trappings that she wore accentuated the golden luminosity of her skin. She was beautiful, but he shuddered as he remembered how she had appeared in her moment of bloodthirsty triumph, and how she had stared at him over her aimed weapon.
The silver mirror shattered into a myriad of glittering shards, and then Grimes' head was above the surface. He could not see the boat at first, turned slowly and clumsily in the water until she came into view. She was a long way off. He was, he knew, in no danger of drowning but doubted if he could swim that far in his weakened condition. And he did not know how much blood he was losing, or how fast.
She said softly, "Relax, Mr. Grimes. Let me see . . ."
He felt her alongside him, was conscious of her gently probing fingers, was aware that she had widened and lengthened the tear in his suit.
"Men are such babies," she remarked. "The skin's hardly broken."
He said stiffly, "I hope that your darts aren't poisoned."
"Of course not. And now, just follow me."
He followed her, thinking that it was the first time in his life that he had followed a girl, a naked girl at that, without a sense of pulse quickening anticipation.
* * *
He sat there glumly in the boat, dabbing the graze just below the ribs on his right side with antiseptic-soaked cotton wool. The Princess Marlene had helped him to mount the short ladder and then had left him, swimming away toward the further shore, a graceful, golden shape around which sported the two silver pilot fish. His self-administered first aid was interrupted by the man Jones, stocky, competent, revoltingly cheerful, who, as soon as he had clambered inboard, removed his helmet and tanks and then performed a like service for Grimes.
"Now,