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.And in the dark.He was also trying desperately not to cut into Jonnie’s flesh.He got a fold of the suit and sawed through it.The hatchet had been dulled and chipped while cutting the cables.The leaded sleeve material was very resistant.He was not making it.Not with one hand.Suddenly he remembered that Jonnie always had thongs in his pouch.It lay under his body but he got it loose.He reached in and found broken glass that sliced his fingers.He paid it no attention.He found the end of a long thong and drew it out.He put a piece of twisted mine lamp metal under the arm and against the artery and wrapped it around and in place with the thong.He drew the thong as tightly as he could and tied it.Now he could work.He cut the radiation suit sleeve away just below the tourniquet.He stripped it off the arm.The cloth was matted with blood.The arm was slippery with it.It was hard to find the wound because of the blood.He found it.He took the edge of the hatchet blade and cut an X across the wound hole.He got out of his air mask and put his mouth to the wound.Anything to get all the poison out that he could.Time and time again he sucked the wound dry and spat.The taste of the blood was stinging and bitter.There was venom in it all right.Finally he thought the blood was cleaner.He did not know how deep the arrow had gone but there was no way to probe.He worked the flesh of the arm in a way he thought would force more poison up to the surface of the wound.He again applied his mouth to it.Yes, there was more bitterness.Then it seemed cleaner.Sir Robert felt around Jonnie’s belt for a wound compress pack.He didn’t find one.Well, the bleeding was slightly less now.Maybe no vein had been hit.It was probably better without a compress.He felt the pulse of Jonnie’s other wrist.Devils in hell! It was racing! The pulse was way above anything he could count.Jonnie’s body was stretched taut.There was a tremble in the limbs.Sir Robert, in the dark, tried to find the ampule in Jonnie’s pouch.Planning dictated there should be one.That broken glass might have come from the mine lamp.He found the bottom half of the ampule.Although he couldn’t see what he was doing and it was just a gesture more than anything else, he opened the wound and upended the broken bottle over it, close to it, pouring in anything that might be in it.He held and massaged the flesh in such a way as to let any liquid drop lower in the wound.It was probably just his imagination, he thought, but the arm area felt slippery.He felt the pulse.It was racing faster if anything, and the limbs were trembling more.Had he done all he could? He couldn’t think of anything more.The air was getting used up in this close space and he put his air mask back on.Jonnie’s radiation mask was in the way and he took it off and checked the air mask under it.The flutter valve was moving slightly but very rapidly.In briefing, they were supposed to put in a new bottle just before the first alert.If Jonnie had done that, he had two hours of air.Sir Robert sank back.He worked the bonds off his ankles and then straightened Jonnie’s body out and raised Jonnie’s head to his own knee to keep the head higher.Double devils in hell but the limbs trembled!He thought the situation over.He had not been in on the last briefings; he did not know whether there had been anything he should know now.Bitterly, Sir Robert cursed his own stupidity.Since things had been going so smoothly with the Academy move, one night he had walked by himself—like a daft sheep—to a knoll to look at the compound.Not really any purpose in it.Just a review of a field where a battle would soon be fought.And Brigantes had grabbed him.They must have been watching him for days.They had trussed him up and kept him in a cavern.They had tried to interrogate him and had beaten him.His nose was broken and full of dried blood even now.But he was too old a campaigner to talk.He did not know what they wanted with him until they brought him into the compound area and dumped him.He had not really thought they would take him to Psychlo until they put the air mask on him.The thought had made even him sweat.He had an excellent example of how the Psychlos interrogated—Allison.Sir Robert had been braced to stand up to it.He had known of this attack but he could not see how he could be fished out.A flamethrower was supposed to sweep that platform clean.And then this lad had thrown his flamethrower down and attacked! It looked like such a hopeless effort.Because of Sir Robert, this lad had thrown away his own chances.His own life?Sir Robert felt the pulse again.Good God, how long could a pulse race like that without a person dying?He began to get uneasy about the silence outside.There was supposed to be a standby rescue crew deep in the old compound, waiting with flatbeds and planes with both Dr.Allen and Dr.MacKendrick.All in radiation suits and air masks.It was so silent in here.Was that a slight crackling sound?Jonnie would have had a mine radio.Sir Robert felt around Jonnie’s belt and then scrabbled around the floor.He had it! A crackling sound was coming out of it.It was live, but no voices.Were they all dead out there?He pressed the transmit button.“Hello.Hello.” Not clever to say more.Who knew who might be out there?Silence.“Hello, hello.” Then he thought he better give them a location.Not clever but he had to do it.“Console talking.”Was that the click of a transmit switch?Then a voice in a whisper as though from far away, “Is that you, Sir Robert?”It was Thor’s voice! Sir Robert almost wept with relief.“Thor?”“Yes, Sir Robert.”“Thor, Jonnie is in here.He has had a poisoned arrow in him.You’ve got to get him out quick!”Then Dr.Allen.“Sir, do you have a radiation suit on?”“No, blast ye! I’ve no suit! To heil wi’ thet! Get the lad out!”“Sir, is his suit whole?”Sir Robert realized he had torn the sleeve off.“No.”“I’m sorry, sir,” whispered Dr.Allen over the mine radio, “to open that dome would kill you both.Have a little patience.We’re trying to find out what we can do.”“Patience be domned!” stormed Sir Robert.His extreme urgency was throwing his speech into dialect.“Git th’ lad oot!”There was no answer.Sir Robert was about to start banging on the inside of the dome.Didn’t they realize Jonnie was probably dying in here?Then a tiny, piping, whispering voice took over.“Sir Robert?” It was one of the young Buddhist communicators.Probably the youngest they had.They had turned him over to a child!The war chief was about to thunder a damnation at them when the child whispered, speaking Psychlo, “Sir Robert, they’re doing all they can, honored sir.It is pretty bad out here.”“Where are you?” demanded Sir Robert, reverting to Psychlo.“I am just outside the dome, honored sir.My mine radio is inside my air mask under my radiation face shield.Excuse me that I whisper.We want nothing picked up by the visitors above.They can’t hear this and the mine radio won’t reach them.”“What are the visitors doing?”“I don’t know, Sir Robert.The snow clouds have closed in again.I see a pilot communicator.I will ask.I will be right back.”There was a long pause.Then the tiny, shrill little voice, “Sir? The pilot communicator says they have moved in orbit and are somewhere above us.They have this place being looked at.But our battle planes are standing by.Dunneldeen is up there
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