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She falls stern first, our beam upon her; slides like a lost soul down that pitiless ladder of light, and the Atlantic takes her. "A filthy business," says Hodgson. "I wonder what it must have been like in the old days?" The thought had crossed my mind, too. Here Tim, from the Control Platform, shouts that we are to get into our inflators and to bring him his at once.
The nerve-store within and the volt-tingle without had passed: my inflators weighed like lead. "God, He knows!" said Captain George soberly "That old shooting-star's skin-friction has discharged the different levels. I've seen it happen before. Phew: What a relief!" We dropped from ten to six thousand and got rid of our clammy suits. Tim shut off and stepped out of the Frame.
EXCORIATED All inflators chafe sooner or later. You must go on till your skin hardens by practice. Meantime vaseline.
We hurry into the heavy rubber suits the engineers are already dressed and inflate at the air-pump taps. G.P.O. inflators are thrice as thick as a racing man's "flickers," and chafe abominably under the armpits. George takes the wheel until Tim has blown himself up to the extreme of rotundity. If you kicked him off the c. p. to the deck he would bounce back.
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