American Science Fiction #41 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

bucked, then dropped like a load: of -jead. Jt slapped the water hard and skidded > straight for the wooded shore. ; Desperately the pilot tried to bring the craft around, but it plunged re- lentlessly © forward “and up on the left. the water. The tail cracked sharply as it whiplashed against the ves. Mir te ti ‘ LIGHTLY bruised and shaken, we ‘climbed out, but that’s all.. The - pilot got out his torch and we clus- tered, about a map he spread on the ground. “This is where we are.’ dicated a spot bare of all slab names and west of the area in which Chet- zisky was reported. In case of an ‘air search this would be fast bit of “terrain searched. It was far off our expected course. I recalled the story of the transport Jost these ten years in this wilderness and an poy ~ tingling crept up my ‘spine. “Then I remembered Chetzisky and ‘realised with a sour humour. that worrying about time in terms of years was optimistic, a matter of three days. And moping like this wouldn’t add tee to: them. Le of “Check the pede? I snapped, turn- 4 jng to the pilot; “see if you can ’ yaise Burns Lake.” He climbed back: into the plane. The lights went on; at least, they still worked, I turned to Johnny Eagle, “You better get the sleeping - bags out and turn in yourself. There’s nothing to be done till morn- in 1 got in the plane.. “Any chance of fixing asked, watching _ the pilot's flickering of switches. + © : “Vm trying to. Ht may only be a case of a broken tube from the jolt we. had, If. SO, we're all right; I have a few spares.’ I stayed up all night with him. A. r) aaa | ceiling of clouds, their gray bellies * green timber. The day pased feuny pander the ~ STOPWATCH: ONr«THE:> WORED © marrow beach, skittering wildly as it - He in- Time now was only frantic . damp, palid dawn filtered through a heavy against the top: of the ever-. 434 heavy overcast. Johnny Bagle ad. patched the opening in the tail and we spent the hours inside, sheltered from the. drizzling cold. The pilot gave up his despairing tinkering with the radio and fell into an exhausted sleep. I followed suit. | f A loud, shrill squealing brought me to my feet hours later. The radio was working again. The pilot was shouting excitedly to me. “lve got ‘em. Listen.” “CXRAP. We hear you. Come in.” The pilot flipped the transmitter switch, “CXRAP calling Burns Lake. We are down in area located ...” He went on, giving co-ordin- ates of our. position, visibility, weather, and other data. | “Here, sir,” he said, handing me the mike. “Someone wishes to speak to you.’ I almost dropped the mike at the sound of the voice that boomed ove the radio Joudspeaker, It was Arm-— strong’s. se Public opinion roused by Nevil Oxford’s censored broadcast had forced the Government’s hand and Armstrong had been placed in com- mand of a last-minute effort to locate Cheizisky. Only two days separated the earth from annihilation. “We cant get to you in this weather, Arnold. Sit tight and ra y. “Don’t bother about us, Jim,” 1 told Armstrong. “We’ Te well enough | set; don’t waste time.” I knew he wouldn't. Afterwards I learned that he parachuted troops into the suspected area north of Burns Lake and rounded up every- trapper, prospector, Indian guide and Provincia] trooper to scour the region ie Cyewsky: : ATE in the afternoon the. a lying clouds began to lift. Rifts: appeared in_ the solid grayness but the drizzle kept on.: | put on my raincoat and got out of the plane to stretch my legs. The air was wet, cool, refreshing, I looked about. In places the slopes were visible as far as the timberline and even before. -In others the gray Cconmielooolks. coin)