Short Stories by Robert A. Heinlein Vol 2 Part 67

Better to ask an acrophobe to climb Half Dome, or demand that a claustrophobe interview a man in the world's deepest mine.

'Uncle Gus?'

'Oh, h.e.l.lo. Waldo. Glad you called.'

'Would it be safe for me to come down to Earth?'

'Eh? How's that? Speak up, man. I didn't understand you.'

'I said would it hurt me to make a trip down to Earth.'

'This hookup,' said Grimes, 'is terrible. It sounded just like you were saying you wanted to come down to Earth.'

'That's what I did say.'

'What's the matter, Waldo? Do you feel all right?'

'I feel fine, but I have to see a man at Earth surface. There isn't any other way for me to talk to him, and I've got to talk to him. Would the trip do me any harm?'

'Ought not to, if you're careful. After all, you were born there. Be careful of yourself, though. You've laid a lot of fat around your heart.'

'Oh dear. Do you think it's dangerous?'

'No. You're sound enough.. Just don't overstrain yourself. And be careful to keep your temper.'

'I will. I most certainly will. Uncle Gus?'

'Yes?'

'Will you come along with me and help me see it through?'

'Oh, I don't think that's necessary.'

'Please, Uncle Gus. I don't trust anybody else.'

'Time you grew up, Waldo. However, I will, this once.'

'Now remember,' Waldo told the pilot, 'the absolute acceleration must never exceed one and one tenth gs, even in landing. I'll be watching the accelograph the whole time.'

'I've been driving ambulances,' said the pilot, 'for twelve years, and I've never given a patient a rough ride yet.'

'That's no answer. Understand me? One and one tenth; and it should not even approach that figure until we are under the stratosphere.

Quiet, Baldur! Quit snuffling.'

'I get you.'

'Be sure that you do. Your bonuses depend on it.'

'Maybe you'd like to herd it yourself.'

'I don't like your att.i.tude, my man. If I should die in the tank, you would never get another job.'

The pilot muttered something.

'What was that?' Waldo demanded sharply. 'Well, I said it might be worth it.'

Waldo started to turn red, opened his mouth'.

Grimes Cut in: 'Easy, Waldo! Remember your heart.'

'Yes, Uncle Gus.'

Grimes snaked his way forward, indicated to the pilot that he wanted him to join him there.

'Don't pay any attention to anything he says,' he advised the man quietly, 'except what he said about acceleration. He really can't stand much acceleration. He might die in the tank.'

'I still don't think it would be any loss. But I'll be careful.'

'Good.'

'I'm ready to enter the tank,' Waldo called out. 'Will you help me with the straps, Uncle Gus?'

'Be there in a second.'

The tank was not a standard deceleration type, but a modification built for this one trip. The tank was roughly the shape of an oversized coffin and was swung in gimbals to keep it always normal to the axis of absolute acceleration. Waldo floated in water - the specific gravity of his fat hulk was low -from which he was separated by the usual flexible, gasketed tarpaulin. Supporting his head and shoulders was a pad shaped to his contour. A mechanical artificial resuscitator was built into the tank, the back pads being under water, the breast pads out of the water but retracted out of the way.

Grimes stood by with neoadrenalin; a saddle had been provided for him on the left side of the tank. Baldur was strapped to a shelf on the right side of the tank; he acted as a counterweight to Grimes.

Grimes a.s.sured himself that all was in readiness, then called Out to the pilot, 'Start when you're ready.'

'OK.' He sealed the access port; the entry tube folded itself back against the threshold flat of Freehold, freeing the s.h.i.+p. Gently they got under way.

Waldo closed his eyes; a look of seraphic suffering came over his face.

'Uncle Gus, suppose the deKalbs fail?'

'No matter. Ambulances store six times the normal reserve.'

'You're sure?'

When Baldur began to feel weight, he started to whimper. Grimes spoke to him; he quieted down. But presently - days later, it seemed to Waldo - as the s.h.i.+p sank farther down into the Earth's gravitational field, the absolute acceleration necessarily increased, although the speed of the s.h.i.+p had not changed materially. The dog felt the weary heaviness creeping over his body. He did not understand it and he liked it even less; it terrified him. He began to howl.

Waldo opened his eyes. 'Merciful heavens!' he moaned. 'Can't you do something about that? He must be dying.'

'I'll see.' Grimes undid his safety belt and swung himself across the tank.

The s.h.i.+ft in weight changed the balance of the load in the gimbals; Waldo was rocked against the side of the tank.