‘I get you.
‘Be sure that you do. Your bonuses depend on it.
‘Maybe you’d like to herd it yourself.
‘I don’t like your attitude, my man. If I should die in the tank, you would never get another job.
The pilot muttered something
‘What was that?’ Waldo demanded sharply. ‘Well, I said it might be worth it.
Waldo started to turn red, opened his mouth
Grimes Cut in: ‘Easy, Waldo! Remember your heart.
‘Yes, Uncle Gus.
Grimes snaked his way forward, indicated to the pilot that he wanted him to join him there
‘Don’t pay any attention to anything he says,’ he advised the man quietly, ‘except what he said about acceleration. He really can’t stand much acceleration. He might die in the tank.
‘I still don’t think it would be any loss. But I’ll be careful.
‘Good.
‘I’m ready to enter the tank,’ Waldo called out. ‘Will you help me with the straps, Uncle Gus?
‘Be there in a second.
The tank was not a standard deceleration type, but a modification built for this one trip. The tank was roughly the shape of an oversized coffin and was swung in gimbals to keep it always normal to the axis of absolute acceleration. Waldo floated in water – the specific gravity of his fat hulk was low -from which he was separated by the usual flexible, gasketed tarpaulin. Supporting his head and shoulders was a pad shaped to his contour. A mechanical artificial resuscitator was built into the tank, the back pads being under water, the breast pads out of the water but retracted out of the way
Grimes stood by with neoadrenalin; a saddle had been provided for him on the left side of the tank. Baldur was strapped to a shelf on the right side of the tank; he acted as a counterweight to Grimes
Grimes assured himself that all was in readiness, then called Out to the pilot, ‘Start when you’re ready.
‘OK.’ He sealed the access port; the entry tube folded itself back against the threshold flat of Freehold, freeing the ship. Gently they got under way
Waldo closed his eyes; a look of seraphic suffering came over his face
‘Uncle Gus, suppose the deKalbs fail?
‘No matter. Ambulances store six times the normal reserve.
‘You’re sure?
When Baldur began to feel weight, he started to whimper. Grimes spoke to him; he quieted down. But presently – days later, it seemed to Waldo – as the ship sank farther down into the Earth’s gravitational field, the absolute acceleration necessarily increased, although the speed of the ship had not changed materially. The dog felt the weary heaviness creeping over his body. He did not understand it and he liked it even less; it terrified him. He began to howl
Waldo opened his eyes. ‘Merciful heavens!’ he moaned. ‘Can’t you do something about that? He must be dying.
‘I’ll see.’ Grimes undid his safety belt and swung himself across the tank. The shift in weight changed the balance of the load in the gimbals; Waldo was rocked against the side of the tank
‘Oh!’ he panted. ‘Be careful.
‘Take it easy.’ Grimes caressed the dog’s head and spoke to him. When he had calmed down, Grimes grabbed a handful of hide between the dog’s shoulders, measured his spot, and jabbed in a hypo. He rubbed the area. ‘There, old fellow! That will make you feel better.
Getting back caused Waldo to be rocked again, but he bore it in martyred silence
The ambulance made just one jerky manoeuvre after it entered the atmosphere. Both Waldo and the dog yelped. ‘Private ship~’ the pilot yelled back. ‘Didn’t heed my right-of-way lights.’ He muttered something about women drivers
‘It wasn’t his fault,’ Grimes told Waldo. ‘I saw it.
The pilot set them down with exquisite gentleness in a clearing which had been prepared between the highway and Schneider’s house. A party of men was waiting for them there; under Grimes’s supervision they unslung the tank and carried Waldo out into the open air. The evolution was performed slowly and carefully, but necessarily involved some degree of bumping and uneven movement. Waldo stood it with silent fortitude, but tears leaked out from under his lowered lids