The tableau on the bank was within Madsen's range of vision as he lay half immersed in mud, with the stomach-turning horrors greedily glueing themselves to his exposed hands and face. To the sick helplessness with which he faced the end, was added a hopeless burning rage. What was Morley doing? Planning to offer the things some dried meat? A handful of near-leather for something that lusted and craved for hot blood? What a way to cash in. A living buffet dinner for alien monstrosities, while a white faced weak sister fumbled frantically, safely, in a useless knapsack. A band of cold, hungry malignance fastened itself to his forehead, just missing his left eye.
Dully, he watched Morley come up with something like a small flashlight, saw him thumb the switch, and commence crawling out on the log to where Madsen lay half submerged. Once within range, he played the invisible beam from the little device over Madsen's inert body. The result was instantaneous. The giant leeches relaxed their grip and disappeared under the mud with startling rapidity. Morley retched at a glimpse of a sucker-lined underbelly. Then he hooked his weapon on his belt and dragged Madsen to dry land.
The victim's frantic eyes showed he was obviously conscious, though unable to move or speak. Morley promptly launched into a reassuring monologue.
"Don't worry, you'll be O.K. in a few hours. Those things temporarily short circuit the nervous energy of their prey in some manner. They call them sanguisuga, means bloodsucker. They're sensitive only to strong ultraviolet, like a lot of extra-terrestrial life."
He removed the little projector from his belt.
"That's why I've been lugging this airlock disinfector all the way. I had a hunch it might come in handy. And look."
He unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a length of thin cord coiled around his waist.
"I wasn't going to show you this, but now we can use it for lashings for the raft we're going to build as soon as you're better."
"Even a rope," said Madsen slowly. He articulated with difficulty, his nerves tingling with returning life.
Forty-eight hours later they were far to the South, floating down the nameless river on their improvised raft. There was no feeling of captain and crew, now. Just two men, fighting together. And winning.