again. There is no feeling that I control it; it is
hunting on its own. To and fro around the giant wheel. Lower. It halts
on a small flat box, also bolted to the wall, a little way below. This
is it, I can see the dial.

The ellipse stands still, surrounding the fuse. There is something at
the very edge of it.

When _Gilgamesh_ was right way up the antigrav was bolted to one wall,
about three feet above the floor. Now the lowest point is the place
where this wall joins what used to be the floor. Something has fallen
down to that point and is huddled there in the dark.

The beam jerks suddenly up and the breath whoops out of me; a round
thing sticking out of the wall--then I realize it is an archaic
space-helmet, clamped to the wall for safety when the wearer took it
off.

I take charge of the ellipse of light and move it slowly down, past
the fuse, to the thing below. A little dark scalloping of the edge of
the light. The tips of fingers. A hand.

I turn up the light.

When the missile struck the big computer was wrenched loose from the
floor. It careened down as the floor tilted, taking with it anything
that stood in its way.

M'Clare was just stooping to the fuse, I think. The computer smashed
against his legs and pinned him down in the angle between the wall and
the floor. His legs are hidden by it.

Because of the spacesuit he does not looked crushed; the thick clumsy
joints have kept their roundness, so far as they are visible; only his
hands and head are bare and vulnerable looking.

I am halfway down, floating on minimum gravity, before it really
occurs to me that he may be still alive.

I switch to half and drop beside him. His face is colorless but he is
breathing all right.

First-aid kit. I will never make fun of Space Force thoroughness
again. Rows and rows of small plastic ampoules. Needles.

Pain-killer, first. I read the directions twice, sweating. Emergencies
only--this is. One dose _only_ to be given and if patient is not in
good health use--never mind that. I fit on the longest needle and jab
it through the suit, at the back of the thigh, as far towards the
knee-joint as I can get because the suit is thinner. Half one side,
half the other.

Now to get the computer off. At a guess it weighs about five hundred
pounds. The beam-lever would do it but it would probably fall back.

Antigrav; the personal size is supposed to take up to three times the
weight of the average man. I take mine