But there was not only the heat energy intensity of his body; there was also the energy of the miniaturization field. And, as he was struck randomly by the water molecules, energy need not flow into him in the form of heat, but in the form of miniaturization activation. The field would grow more intense and he would shrink.

This must be true at all times when a miniaturized object was surrounded by normal objects of higher temperature. The energy might flow from the surroundings to the miniaturized object either as heat or as field intensity. And it must be that the smaller the object, the more intensely miniaturized, the more it was the field that gained the energy and not the object itself.

Probably the ship, too, was pulsating, growing larger and smaller constantly, but to an extent not great enough to notice. Still, that was why the Brownian motion hadn't increased as far as it might have and that was why the air-conditioning could perform its function with less strain. The miniaturization field formed a cushion in both cases.

But he - Morrison, alone in the cell - was much smaller, possessing less mass, and for him the energy inflow went far more into miniaturization than heat.

Morrison's fists clenched helplessly. He let go of the computer and didn't care. Undoubtedly, the others, Boranova and Konev certainly, knew of this and might have explained it to him. Once again they let him go into danger without warning him.

And now that he had worked it out for himself - what good did it do him?

He opened his eyes suddenly.

Yes, there were pulsations. Now that he knew what to expect, he saw them. The water molecules were expanding and contracting in an irregular rhythm as they gave up energy to the field and then extracted energy from it. I

Morrison watched it with a stupefied swaying rhythm and he found himself muttering soundlessly: "Larger, smaller, larger, smaller, larger, smaller."

It could only get so large, he thought. The expansion mirrored his own contraction and there was only so much energy to be pushed into him to power that contraction. The cellular contents had a temperature only so high. On the other hand, they could take large quantities of energy from him, and once they took enough, what was left would go more and more quickly, and he would explode.

Therefore, when the water molecules expanded in size (and he himself was growing smaller) he was safe. He would not grow very small. When the water molecules contracted in size, however (and he himself was growing larger), he was not safe. If the water molecules continued to contract until they were too small to see that meant he would be expanding toward instantaneous explosion.

"Larger, smaller - smaller - stop contracting!"

Morrison let his breath go, for the molecules were expanding again.

Over and over! Each time - would the contraction stop?

It seemed to be playing with him and it didn't matter anyway. No matter if it brought him to the brink of destruction, then snatched him away, and if it did it a million times over, it wouldn't matter. Sooner or later, his air would be gone and he would die a slow, suffocating death.

Better a quick death, surely.

Kaliinin was screaming. She was the first to realize what had happened and she choked on her words.

"He's gone! He's gone!" she shrieked.

Boranova was unable to stop herself from asking the obvious question. "Who's gone?"

Kaliinin turned wide eyes on her and said, "Who's gone? How can you ask who's gone? Albert is gone."

Boranova stared blankly out at the spot where Morrison had been and now wasn't. "What happened?"

Dezhnev muttered hoarsely, "I'm not sure. We cut a corner closely. Albert, attached to the outside of the ship, introduced an asymmetry, perhaps. I tried to steer the ship away from - from whatever it was, but it didn't respond properly."

"A fixed macromolecular organelle," said Konev, who looked up now after having buried his face in his hands, "scraped him off. We've got to get back to him. He may have the information we need."

Boranova by now clearly understood the situation. She unclasped herself with a quick movement and stood up. "Information?" she said tightly. "Is that what you feel the loss of, Yuri? Information? Do you know what's going to happen now? Albert's miniaturization field is isolated and he's only atom-sized. The chance of his undergoing spontaneous deminiaturization is at least fifty times ours. Given enough time, the chance will become too good. Information or not, we must get him. If he deminiaturizes, he will kill Shapirov and he will kill us."

Konev said, "We're just arguing motivation. We both want him back. The reasons why are secondary."

"We should never have sent him out," said Kaliinin. "I knew it was wrong to do so."

"It is done," said Boranova gruffly, "and we must proceed from that point. Arkady!"

"I'm trying," said Dezhnev. "Don't teach a drunkard to hiccup."

"I'm not trying to teach you anything, old fool. I'm ordering you. Turn around. Back! Back!"

"No," said Dezhnev. "Let this old fool tell you that's ridiculous. Do you want me to make a U-turn and buck the current? You want me to try to force my way upstream?"

Boranova said, "If you just stand still, the stream will bring him to us."

"He is adhering to something. He will not be brought to us," said Dezhnev. "What we must do is turn to the other side of the dendrite and let the return stream carry us back."

Boranova put both hands to her head and said, "I apologize for calling you an old fool, Arkady, but if we go back by the counterstream we'll miss him."

"We have no choice," said Dezhnev. "We lack the energy to try to make our way against the stream we're in."

Konev said, sounding a bit weary but reasonable, "Let Arkady do as he wishes, Natalya. We will not lose Albert."

"How can you know that, Yuri?"

"Because I can hear him. - Or, rather, sense him. - Or, rather, sense Shapirov's thoughts by way of his instrument, bare and uninsulated in the cell."

There was a momentary silence. Boranova, clearly astonished, said, "Are you getting something?"

"Of course. In that direction," said Konev, pointing.

"You can tell the direction?" said Boranova. "How?"

"I'm not sure how. I just feel. It's in that direction!"

Boranova said, "Arkady, do as you were planning."

"I am doing it regardless of what you say, Natasha. You may be captain, but I am navigator with death staring me in the face. What have I to lose? As my old father would say: 'If you are dangling from a rope over an abyss, don't bother snatching at a coin that falls out of your pocket.' - It would be better if I had a real steering mechanism than this system of trying to maneuver three off-center engines."

Boranova had stopped listening. She peered into the darkness uselessly and said, "What is it you hear, Yuri? Shapirov's thoughts tell us - what?"

"Nothing at the moment. It is just noise. Anguish."

Kaliinin muttered, as though to herself, "Do you suppose part of Shapirov's mind knows he's in a coma? Do you suppose part of his mind feels trapped and is clamoring to get out? Like Albert - trapped? Like we ourselves - trapped?"

Boranova said sharply, "We are not trapped, Sophia. We can move. We will find Albert. We will get out of this body. Do you understand, Sophia?" She reached for the other woman's shoulders, her fingers digging deeply.

Kaliinin winced. "Please. I understand."

Boranova turned to Konev. "Is that all you get? Anguish?"

"But strongly." Then, curiously, staring at Boranova, "Do you sense nothing?"

"Nothing at all."

"But it is so strong. Stronger than anything I felt when Albert was in the ship. It was right for him to move outside."