"I'll do as I please," said Konev, twitching his shoulder and then writhing out of Morrison's grasp.

Morrison's hands found their way around Konev's throat. "You miserable, egotistical barbarian," he grunted out, squeezing desperately. "You love her in your own insane way and you won't give her a kind word. Not one kind word, you piece of dirt."

Again Konev pulled himself loose and then the two were pummeling each other clumsily. They were half-trapped by the seats from which they had partly risen and neither could maneuver properly under zero-gravity conditions.

Kaliinin screamed, "Don't hurt him!"

He won't hurt me, thought Morrison, striving mightily. He had not been engaged in this kind of physical combat since he was sixteen and, he thought in embarrassment, he wasn't doing any better now.

Boranova's voice rang out sharply. "Stop it. Both of you."

And they did. Both of them.

Boranova said, "Albert, you are not here to teach anyone manners. And Yuri, you need not labor to be a boor, it comes natural to you. If you do not wish to acknowledge Sophia's -"

Sophia said with an obvious effort, "I'm not asking for thanks - from anyone."

"Thanks?" said Konev angrily. "Let us all say thanks. Before the deminiaturization started, I was trying to get this American coward to thank us for rescuing him. I didn't want thanks in words. This isn't a dance floor. We needn't bow and curtsy. I wanted him to show his thanks by getting out there and trying to sense some of Shapirov's thoughts. He refused. Who is he to teach me how and when to say thanks?"

Morrison said, "I said before the deminiaturization that I wouldn't do it and I repeat that now."

Dezhnev interrupted and said, "We beat a dead horse here. We have consumed our energy supply as though it were vodka at a wedding. Between pursuits and deminiaturizations, we have very little to spare for the task of deminiaturizing under controlled conditions. We must get out now."

Konev said, "It would take very little energy to have this man go out for a couple of minutes and come in again. Then we can leave."

For a moment, Konev and Morrison stared at each other hostilely and then Dezhnev said in a voice that seemed drained of some of its life, "My poor old father used to say: 'The most frightening phrase in the Russian language is "That's odd."'"

Konev turned angrily and said, "Shut up, Arkady."

Dezhnev replied, "I mentioned that only because it is now time for me to say it: That's odd."

Boranova pushed her dark hair back from her forehead (a bit wearily, Morrison thought, and noted the hair itself was clearly damp with perspiration). She said, "What is odd, Arkady? Let us not play games."

"The current flow of the cellular material is slowing."

There was a brief silence, then Boranova said, "How can you tell?"

Dezhnev said heavily, "Natasha, dear, if you sat in my seat you would know that there are fibers criss-crossing the cell -"

"The cytoskeleton," put in Morrison.

"Thank you, Albert, my child," said Dezhnev with a grand wave of his hand. "My father used to say: 'It is more important to know the thing than the name.' Still, never mind. The whatever - you - call - it doesn't stop the cell flow and it doesn't stop the ship, but I can see it glint past. Well, it's glinting past more slowly now. I assume the fibers don't move, so I take it we're slowing. And since I'm not doing anything to slow the ship, I assume that it is the intracellular flow that is really slowing. - This is called logic, Albert, so you don't have to educate me on that point."

Kaliinin said in a small voice, "I think we have damaged the cell." She sounded conscience-stricken.

Morrison took it so and said, "One brain cell gone, more or less, won't hurt Shapirov in any way, especially in the condition he's in. I wouldn't be surprised if the cell were gone, though. After all, the ship came after me in a furious race, I imagine - and I thank you all again for that - and it probably vibrated itself nearly to death and must have vibrated the entire cell as well."

Konev said, frowning darkly, "That's mad. We're molecule-sized - and a small molecule at that. Do you suppose anything we can do, whether moving or jiggling, is going to damage an entire cell?"

Morrison said, "We don't have to reason it out, Yuri. It's an observed fact. The intracellular stream is stopping and that isn't normal."

"In the first place, that's just Arkady's impression," said Konev, "and he's no neurologist -"

"Do I have to be a neurologist to have eyes?" demanded Dezhnev hotly, one arm raised as though to strike at the younger man.

Konev cast a brief glance at Dezhnev, but made no other acknowledgment of his remark. He said, "And besides, we don't know what is normal in a living brain cell from this level of observation. There may be calms and eddies in the flow, so that even if something like this is observed, it might be only temporary."

"You're whistling past the graveyard, Yuri," said Morrison. "The fact is, we can't use this cell any more and we don't have sufficient remaining energy to wander around searching for another cell."

Konev ground his teeth. "There must be something we can do. We can't give up."

Morrison said, "Natalya, make the decision. Is there any point in investigating this cell any further? And are we in a position to seek out another cell?"

Boranova raised her hand and bowed her head in a moment of thought. The others turned to look at her and Konev seized the opportunity to grasp Morrison by the upper arm and pull him closer. His eyes were dark with hostility. He whispered, "How is it you think I am in love with -" he jerked his head in Kaliinin's direction. "What gives you the right to think so? Tell me that."

Morrison looked at him blankly.

At this point, Boranova spoke, but it was not to answer Morrison's question. She said mildly, "Arkady, what is it you are doing?"

Dezhnev, who was bent over his controls, lifted his head. "I am rearranging the wiring back to what it was. I am hooking up communications again."

Boranova said, "Have I told you to do that?"

Dezhnev said, "Necessity has told me to do that."

Konev said, "Does it occur to you it will be impossible to steer?"

Dezhnev growled and said in sullen irony, "And does it occur to you that there may be no more steering to do?"

"What is the necessity that drives you, Arkady?" said Boranova patiently.

Dezhnev said, "I don't think it's this cell alone that is out of order. The temperature around us is going down. - Slowly."

Konev sneered. "By your measurements?"

"No. By the ship's measurements. By the background infrared radiation we're getting."

"You can't tell anything by that," said Konev. "At our size, we get very few infrared photons. The level would vary all over the lot."

Dezhnev nodded at Konev and said, "Like this." His hand waved up and down frenetically. "Still, it can wave up and down like a rowboat in a typhoon and yet do so at a lower and lower average level." And his hand sank ever lower as it continued its trembling.

Boranova said, "Why should the temperature be dropping?"

Morrison smiled grimly. "Come on, Natalya. I think you know why. I know that Yuri knows why. Arkady must find out and for that reason necessity is forcing him to put back communications."

An uncomfortable silence fell, except for Dezhnev's occasional grunts and muttered expletives as he struggled with the ship's wiring.

Morrison gazed out at the surroundings, which he could once again see in the usual unsatisfactory fashion now that ship's lighting had been restored. There were the usual dim glitter of molecules, large and small, that traveled with them. Now that Dezhnev had mentioned it, he saw the occasional reflection of light from a line that stretched across the path before them and then moved over (or under) and behind at express speed.