They were easy enough to follow, and I did all she commanded:
reduced the fracture, packed the gash, stuck Cochenour with broadspectrum antibiotics, closed the wound with surgical Velcro and meat glue, sprayed a bandage all around, and poured on a cast. It
depleted our first-aid supplies pretty thoroughly and took about an hour of our time. Cochenour would have come to while we were doing it, except that I had also given him a sleepy needle.
Then he was stable enough. From then on it was just a matter of taking pulse and respiration and blood- pressure readings to satisfy the surgeon, and promising to get him back to the Spindle pretty soon. When Dr. Marcuse was through, still annoyed with me for not bringing Cochenour in for her to play with-I think she was fascinated by the idea of cutting into a man composed almost entirely of other people's parts-Sergeant Littleknees came back on the circuit.
I could tell what was on her mind. 'Uh, honey? How did it happen, exactly?'
'A great big Heechee came exactly up out of the ground and bit him exactly on the leg,' I told her. 'I know what you're thinking. You've got an evil mind. It was just an accident.'
'Of course it was,' she said. 'I just wanted you to know that I don't blame you a bit.' And she signed off.
Dorrie was cleaning the old man off as best she could-pretty profligate with our spare sheets and towels, I thought, considering
that my airbody didn't carry a washing machine aboard. I left her to it while I made myself some coffee, lit another cigarette, and sat and thought up another plan.
By the time Dorrie had done what she could for Cochenour, then cleaned up the worst of the mess, then begun such remaining important tasks as the repair of her eye makeup, I had thought up a dandy.
As the first step, I gave Cochenour a wake-up needle.
Dorrie patted him and talked to him while he got his bearings. She was not a girl who carried a grudge. On the other hand, I did, a little. I wasn't as tender as she. As soon as he seemed coherent I got him up, to try out his muscles-a lot faster than he really wanted to. His expression told me that they all ached. They worked all right, though, and he could stump around on the cast.
He was even able to grin. 'Old bones,' he said. 'I knew I should have gone for another recalciphylaxis. That's what happens when you try to save a buck.'
He sat down heavily, wincing, the leg stuck out in front of him. He wrinkled his nose as he smelled himself. 'Sorry to have messed up your nice clean airbody,' he added.
'It's been messed up worse. You want to finish cleaning yourself up?'
He looked surprised. 'Well, I guess I'd better, pretty soon-'
'Do it now. I want to talk to you both.'
He didn't argue. He just stuck out his hand, and Dorrie took it. With her help he stumped, half-hopping, toward the clean-up. Actually Dorrie had already done the worst of the job of getting him clean before he woke up, but he splashed a little water on his face and swished some around in his mouth. He was pretty well recovered when he turned around to look at me.
'All right, Walthers, what is it? Do we give up and go back now?'
'No,' I said. 'We'll do it a different way.'
'He can't, Audee!' Dorrie cried. 'Look at him. And the con-
dition his suit is in, he couldn't last outside an hour, much less help you dig.'
'I know that, so we'll have to change the plan. I'll dig by myself. The two of you will slope off in the airbody.'
'Oh, brave heroic man,' Cochenour said flatly. 'Are you crazy? Who are you kidding? That's a two-man job.'
'I did the first one by myself, Cochenour.'
'And came into the airbody to cool off every little while. Sure. That's a whole other thing.'
I hesitated. 'It'll be harder,' I admitted. 'Not impossible. Lone prospectors have dug out tunnels before, though the problems were a little different. I know it'll be a rough forty-eight hours for me, but we'll have to try it-there isn't any alternative.'
'Wrong,' Cochenour said. He patted Dorrie's rump. 'Solid muscle, that girl is. She isn't big, but she's healthy. Takes after her grandmother. Don't argue, Walthers. Just think a little bit. I'll fly the airbody; she'll stick around to help you. The job is as safe for Dorrie as it is for you; and with two of you to spell each other there's a chance you might make it before you pass out from heat prostration. What's the chance by yourself? Any chance at all?'
I didn't answer the last part. For some reason, his attitude put me in a bad temper. 'You talk as though she didn't have anything to say about it.'
'Well,' Dorrie said, sweetly enough, 'come to that, so do you, Audee. Boyce is right. I appreciate your being all gallant and trying to make things easy for me, but, honestly, I think you'll need me. I've learned a lot. And if you want the truth, you look a lot worse than I do.'
I said, with all the contemptuous command I could get into my voice, 'Forget it. We're going to do it my way. You can both help me for an hour or so, while I get set up. Then you're on your way. No arguments. Let's get going.'
Well, that made two mistakes.
The first was that we didn't get set up in an hour. It took more
than two, and I was sweating-sick, oily sweat-long before we finished. I really felt bad. I was past worrying about the way I felt; I was only a little surprised, and kind of grateful, every time I noticed that my heart was still beating.
Dorrie was as strong and willing as promised. She did more of the muscle work than I did, firing up the igloo and setting the equipment in place, and Cochenour checked over the instruments
