“There he is.” Robbins spotted their errant companion first.
As they approached, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Brink was lying on his left side against the rocks, his right arm resting against him, looking for all the world as though he was relaxing and enjoying the view. But as they drew near, they saw there was no sign of his left forearm. It was hidden by the crack in the hillside into which the scientist had thrust it. They hurried to his side.
“What’s wrong, Ludger?” Even as she asked, Robbins was straining to see for herself.
Sweat dappled the scientist’s face, though the temperature was on the cool side. “As you see, my hand and wrist have become stuck.”
“How did you manage that?” Robbins tried to find a better angle.
“I was holding one of the life crystals.” He smiled weakly. “If you just hold them gently and don’t press them against your body, you can feel their warmth without absorbing them. It is a most invigorating sensation.
“Climbing this slope, I slipped slightly and lost my grip. The crystal fell into this hole. It isn’t deep, and I thought I could dig it out. When I attempted to do so, the rocks above shifted and, as you see, pinned my arm. I cannot pull free. Every time I try, the rocks above slide down a little more. It really is very painful. I am afraid that most of the bones in my left hand are broken to one degree or another.
“Fortunately, I was able to reach my communicator with my other hand.”
Low had completed a circuit of the scientist’s predicament. “Just hang in there, Ludger. We’ll get you out.”
But try as they might, with both of them digging, they were unable to free the scientist’s pinioned arm. When Low tried to use a long, narrow rock to lever the others, it only made the situation worse. The hillside immediately above was unstable. If much more rock shifted, the scientist’s neck as well as his arm would be at risk.
“I am afraid I cannot contain myself much longer.” Brink was trembling now, and perspiration had enveloped his entire body.
“Go ahead and scream if you want,” Robbins told him tightly. “In my work I’ve had to listen to plenty of screams.”
“It’s not that,” Brink wheezed. “Nothing so melodramatic. I am just afraid that I am going to pass—”
He slumped back against the hillside before he could finish the sentence.
Low straightened. “We’ve got to get him out of there. I’m worried about steady bleeding. But if we’re not careful, this whole section of hillside is going to come down. Then we’re liable to have to dig ourselves out.”
Robbins wiped sweat from her forehead and looked up at him. “One of the alien machines from the museum?”
“This isn’t a complex piece of engineering. We ought to be able to make do without anything that exotic. Besides, he’s already in shock. By the time we figured out what device to bring and got it back here, he’s liable to be dead. What we need is a big jack, and I don’t remember seeing anything that straightforward. For all we know, there might be half a dozen portable antigravity lifters waiting in crates by the entrance, but it could take weeks to find one and puzzle it out.”
Robbins put her ear against the scientist’s chest. “He’s still breathing, but not well.” She straightened. “You’re right, Boston. We need to do something quickly.”
Instead of rapid excavation they tried removing the confining rock slowly, one handful at a time. Occasionally Brink would regain consciousness, but he was no longer coherent. Raving in three languages, he would moan and flail about with his free hand before relapsing into a coma.
It didn’t matter whether they removed a little dirt and detritus at a time or a lot. Whenever it seemed they were making some progress, more rock would suddenly slip down to mock their efforts. Blood was now visible on the scientist’s left arm, seeping up from the breaks below to stain the sleeve.
“It’s no good.” Low sat back, weary from his efforts. “We’ve got to get him out of there now, or he’s going to bleed to death. Do you hear me, Ludger? Do you understand? We don’t have any more options.”
The scientist’s eyes flickered unsteadily.
“Ich … verstehen. I understand, Commander. Do what you have to do.” Low and Robbins might be tired, but the scientist was completely drained.
Low bent close. “If we don’t do something right now, Ludger, you’re going to bleed to death.”
“Don’t want … to die.” Somehow he summoned a feeble grin from the depths of his distress. “As you Americans say, been there, done that.”
Removing a small packet from his belt, Low tore it open and pressed two tiny pills against the other man’s lips. “Can you swallow these? I’ll find some water if you need it.”
“No water. Need schnapps.” Opening his mouth and making a great effort, Brink leaned forward slightly and sucked in the pills. Low and Robbins looked on as he swallowed.
“Concentrated general anesthetic,” Low told her. “Part of every suit’s emergency kit.”
“What now?” She eyed him expectantly.
“We build a fire.” In response to her look of confusion he added, “I’ll need something to cauterize the wound.”
“Cauterize…?” Her eyes widened. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
Low met her gaze without blinking. “You got a better idea?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not only don’t I have a better idea, I don’t have any ideas at all. You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”
“No,” he replied curtly, “I’m not.” He pulled a coil of glossy alien metal from a pocket. Unfolded, it was roughly two inches wide, a foot long and honed on one edge.
“Used this on the glue strands when we rescued you from the spitter-crab. Thought it might come in handy later.” His gaze shifted back to Brink. The scientist was resting peacefully, the powerful anesthetic having already started to work. “This wasn’t what I had in mind.” He began to remove the top of his flight suit.
“What are you doing?”
He bunched the material tight. “I don’t know what the alloy is, but this strip is plenty sharp. If I tried to hold it with both hands and saw away, I’d cut my own fingers to ribbons. I think it will work. It’d better. Let’s try to find some debris that will burn.”
“You know, I think I do have a better idea,” she murmured. “What about using one of the crystals … after you’re through?”
Low considered, then nodded admiringly. “Should’ve thought of that. All right, you stand by with a crystal. But I want a fire going in case it doesn’t work.”
Once they had a fire blazing hot, he inserted one end of the long lever stone he’d used earlier into the glowing coals and waited for it to heat up. When he was satisfied, he picked up the strip of alien metal, using his bunched-up shirt and undershirt in lieu of gloves.
“You sure that will cut … through?” Robbins asked quietly.
“It’ll cut, all right. I just hope it doesn’t snap when I’m half done.” Approaching the motionless Brink, he took up a predetermined position, nodded at Robbins and went to work. She waited nearby, cradling in both hands one of the life crystals they’d taken from Brink’s overfull pockets.
Working as fast as possible, Low had no time to wonder how his companion was coping with the gory spectacle. She claimed to have been in numerous wartime situations and seen much worse. He hoped she’d been telling the truth.
Despite the tourniquet they’d tightened around Brink’s upper arm, blood came fast and copiously. The metal strip cut cleanly until he reached the bone, then more slowly. His hands were growing slippery from the blood and he was afraid of losing his grip. Then he was through the bone and sawing rapidly again.
“Finished!” Exhausted, he flopped back against the rocks. Robbins immediately jammed the glowing green crystal against the bloody stump and held it there.
Mere seconds passed before the journalist felt the shard beginning to flow between her fingers. Drawing back, she watched in awe as it seemed to melt into the open wound. Pale-green light enveloped the scientist’s severed arm from slice to shoulder. Bleeding slowed, then stopped altogether.
“It’s working!” More than anything, the process reminded her of the time-lapse photography she’d seen used on occasion by the news division’s editing team. “I can see it healing.”
A weary Low spread his bloodstained shirts out on the rocks to dry. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“I’m not,” she objected. “Come and look for yourself. It’s like magic.”
“Runes of the witch doctor.” Low mumbled to himself as he struggled over to join her.
No spurting blood, no dangling tendons, no gleaming-white bone greeted his tired eyes. Clean flesh covered the end of the stump, pink and fresh.