Fantastic Voyage

Sorry we had to get you up at this hour, Mr. Grant.

I thought I was on vacation. What's it all about?

I can't tell you that.

- Where are we going? - I can't tell you that either.

You're to stay inside, Mr. Grant, and wait.

Your ID card, please.

Thank you.

- Hello, Grant. - General Carter!

Good to see you again.

- The Pentagon, wasn't it, General? - That's right.

Only you weren't in that uniform.

Come on.

Benes! What the devil happened?

The other side got to him.

- How bad off is he? - Brain injury. He's in a coma.

Before or after what he wanted to tell you?

Before he could breathe a word.

He's the only scientist who knows the answer to what we're after.

That's why we have to operate. And why we need you.

Me? I can't even put a Band-Aid on my finger.

Here's the surgeon. Duval.

Dr. Peter Duval. Top brain man in the country. Ever hear of him?

- Sorry, I'm rusty on surgeons. Who's the girl? - Cora Peterson, his technical assistant.

- You'll be joining Duval and the others. - What can I do? Except maybe pass out.

Mike?

Yes, Alan.

Meet Grant. This is Dr. Michaels, chief of the medical section.

- Glad to have you with us, Mr. Grant. - I wish I knew why.

Tell him where he fits in, will you? I've got a few things to check out.

We need you for security purposes, Mr. Grant.

- At an operation? - They know they failed to kill Benes.

Security thinks they'll try again, first chance they get.

We're afraid of sabotage. Surgical assassination.

Surgical assassination?

- That means you suspect... - Duval. That's right.

Well, I don't agree. Just because he's often difficult.

- Difficult? He's impossible. - That's no reason to suspect him of disloyalty.

Why take the chance? There must be other doctors.

Duval's the most skillful brain surgeon in the country, and there's no time.

Besides, he's right here at hand.

I wouldn't know if he's trying to save him or kill him.

I'll be standing by. I would know.

No matter what happens, you're to take orders only from Dr. Michaels.

- Understand? - Right, sir.

Come on along. They'll be operating shortly.

See you later, Mike.

His technician okay? In addition to the looks department?

No question of her loyalty.

- I'll take that, Corporal. - Yes, sir.

I don't mean to be inquisitive, but this CMDF.

For all I know, it could stand for the...

Consolidated Mobilization of... Delinquent Females.

Combined Miniature Deterrent Forces.

Say that again?

We can reduce anything down to any size we want. People, ships, tanks, planes.

General, I've heard some wild ones, but this takes it.

We can shrink an army with all its equipment. Put it in a bottle cap.

That's why we call it Combined Miniature Deterrent Forces.

If the other side of it gets a hold of a thing like that!

They have. But we both have the same problem...

Lack of control.

They can only miniaturize things for exactly 60 minutes.

After that everything starts growing back to its original size.

- I assume Benes knows how to control it. - That's right.

He wanted us to have the secret, not them.

- That's why they tried to kill him. - They'll probably try again.

No wonder you want me to stand by during the operation.

And take a little trip with him.

Trip? Where to?

Well, the only way we can reach that clot is from inside the brain.

So, we've decided to put a surgical team and crew into a submarine,

reduce it way down in size, and inject it into an artery.

- You mean I'm going along? - As part of the crew, yes.

Wait a minute. They can't shrink me.

- Our miniaturizing can shrink anything. - But I don't want to be miniaturized!

- It's just for an hour. - Not even for a minute!

General Carter, sir, I really think you should reconsider your choice.

I just don't think I'm the right kind of man for this kind of job.

Grant, you're going to a briefing.

Miss Peterson volunteered to come along.

So did every male technician in this unit.

A woman has no place on a mission of this kind.

I insist on taking my technician.

You'll take along who I assign.

Don't tell me who I'm going to work with, not on this operation or any other.

I'll do what I think is best without interference from anyone!

Dr. Duval has relied on Miss Peterson for years.

And since she wants to come along, I think it's for the best, Dr. Reid.

Well, I disagree with you.

Since you're in charge, go ahead and do as you please.

But I want it all on record as being against it.

Grant, Colonel Reid, operational commander.

- How are you? - You've met our medical chief.

- Dr. Duval, head surgeon. - I've heard of you, Doctor.

Miss Peterson, his technical assistant.

- And this is Captain Bill Owens, - How are you, Miss Peterson?

designer of an experimental submarine

for the Navy's research and development program.

- Out of your element, aren't you, Captain? - Sort of.

- That makes two of us. - Grant is uniquely suited to this mission.

He's a communications expert and he was a frogman during the war.

Besides that, he brought Benes into this country.

And the fewer people who know about that, the better.

In any rate, you'll find Grant invaluable should anything go wrong once you're underway.

Okay, Don.

Here's the overall target area.

Doctor?

Benes's brain. As near as we can map it stereotaxically.

The clot is right here.

It's impossible to get at without damage to the intervening tissue,

which would prove fatal to Benes.

The only way to reach it is via the arterial system.

Phase one calls for miniaturizing a submarine,

with crew and surgical team, and injecting it into the carotid artery.

How small will it be?

About the size of a microbe. We're putting Benes in deep hypothermia.

What?

That's freezing him as low as is compatible with human life.

It'll slow down his heartbeat, circulation and all other physical processes.

Well, even so, Colonel, because of our size...

Well, I mean, the lack of it, we'll still be cruising pretty fast.

We'll be smashed to bits if there's any turbulence.

The only danger of turbulence is in the heart.

And we're not going through it.

Once in the carotid artery,

we remain within the arterial system until we reach the point of the damage,

where Dr. Duval will attempt to dissolve the clot with a laser beam.

Thank you.

After the operation, we return by way of the venous system

until we reach the base of the neck, where we'll be removed.

Right here. With a hypodermic.

How will you know where the sub is at any aprticular moment?

Dr. Michaels is a circulatory specialist and will act as your navigator.

He'll know just where you are and you can communicate directly with us by wireless.

Besides that, the sub is nuclear powered.

And we'll be tracking it, just as we would any radioactive tracer.

There'll be a team of surgeons standing by.

They'll be prepared to remove you immediately should anything happen.

In any event, you must be out within 60 minutes.

After that, you're in danger of attack.

Attack? Who? Or should I say what from?

Benes's natural defenses.

Oh, white corpuscles, antibodies.

You see, once you begin to grow, you become a menace to the body

and you'll trigger them off.

And there may be other unknown factors. We can't be certain of anything.

Any further questions? Anybody?

- Just one, General. - Yes, what's that?

Where do I get a cab back to town?

Dr. Michaels, I think you'd better proceed to the sterilization section.

Yes, sir.

Will you follow me?

How much can a man give to his country?

Your attention, please.

Make the final preparations.

Heart.

How's it look, Henry?

Holding steady. 32 per minute.

Respiration.

Jack, what's the report?

Respiration is down to six a minute.

I wouldn't take him down any further.

Hypothermia.

Any problems, Dr. Sawyer?

No, sir. We're holding him at 28 degrees Centigrade.

- How do we stand? - Medical's ready.

Colonel, they're now entering the sterilization corridor, sir.

Please board and check all your equipment immediately.

Here's the particle, sir.

- Everything aboard? - All squared away, sir.

Dr. Michaels?

- Yes? - Here's your chart table right here.

These are all the maps and charts in sequence from left to right.

- And here's your checklist. - All right.

Dr. Duval and I will just check the charts.

Fine. Mr. Grant?

- This is your wireless station right here. - Oh, good.

- Ocular motor nerve. - I see.

Brain.

No.

- Need any help, skipper? - Oh, yeah. We'll save some time, Mr. Grant.

Open this thing for me, would you?

- Okay. - Set it down there.

- Where? On the deck here? - Yeah, right there.

- That's radioactive material! - It's atomic fuel.

- Is it all right to open it? - Oh, it's perfectly safe.

There's a microscopic radioactive particle inside.

Nothing big enough to be seen with the naked eye.

- Is that it? - Yeah, that's it.

If it's no military secret, how ca a sub run on a microscopic particle?

Well, they can't reduce nuclear fuel.

But once the reactor's been miniaturized along with the submarine,

a microscopic particle should put out enough energy to activate it.

That's cutting it mighty close for a perfect fit.

Well, it should work, theoretically.

If it doesn't, the whole mission's off.

You see, this craft is nuclear powered. All except for your wireless.

All in all, quite a canoe.

Designed for piscatorial research. Spawning habits of deep-sea fish.

That reminds me, I'd better spawn a radio message.