Astounding Science Fiction, February 1952 (British Edition) — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

26 him. Always could handle a shovel some better than my feet; Reach farther and—” He reached out and took the bottle, lowered it another inch or two. “This crisis, Ira?” “It’s the serum,’ Warren told him. “Morgan waited until the ship had got too far for us to contact them before he thought to check the serum. And it isn’t any good—it’s about ten years too old.” Bat Ears sat half stunned. “So we don’t get out booster shots,” said Warren, “and that means that we will die. There’s this deadly virus here, the... the . . . oh, well, I can’t remember the name of it. But you know about it.” “Sure,” said Bat Ears. “Sure I know about it.” “Funny thing,” said Warren. “You'd expect to find something like that on one of the jungle planets. But, no, you find it here. Something about the natives. They’re humanoid. Got the same kind of guts we got. So the virus developed an ability to attack a humanoid system. We are good, new material for it.” “It don’t seem to bother the natives none now,” said Bat Ears. “No,” said Warren. “They seem to be immune. One of two things: They've found a cure or they've developed natural im- munity.” “If they’ve found a cure,” said Bat Ears, “we can shake it out of them.” “And if they haven't,” Said Warren, “if adaptation is the answer—then we're dead ducks for sure.” “Well start working on them,” said Bat Ears. “They hate us and they’d love to see us croak, but we'll find some way to get it out of them.” “Everything always hates us,” Warren said. “Why is that, Bat Ears? We do our best and they always hate us. On every planet that Man has set a foot on. We try to make them like us, we do all we can for them. But they resent our help. Or reject our friendliness. Or take us for a bunch of suckers—so that finally we lose our patience and we take a shovel to them.” “And then,” said Bat Ears, sanctimoni- ously, “the fat is in the fire.” “What I’m worried about is the men,” said Warren. “When they hear about this serum business—” “We can’t tell them,” said Bat Ears. “We can’t let them know. They'll find out, after a while, of course, but not right away.” “Morgan is the only one who knows,” ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION said Warren, “and he blabs. We can’t keep him quiet. Itll be all over camp by morn- ing.” Bat Ears rose ponderously. He towered over Warren as he reached out a hand for the bottle on the desk. “Til drop in on Morgan on my way back,” he said. “Ill fix it so he won’t talk.” He took a long pull at the bottle and set it back. “Til draw a picture of what'll happen to him if he does,” said Bat Ears. Warren sat easily in his chair, watching the retreating back of Bat Ears Brady. Always there in a pinch, he thought. Al- ways a man that you can depend on. Bat Ears was back in three minutes. flat. He stood in the entrance of the tent, no sign of drunkenness upon him, his face solemn, eyes large with the thing he’d seen. “He croaked himself,” he said. That was the solemn truth. Dr. James H. Morgan lay dead inside his tent, his throat sliced open with a profes- sional nicety that no one but a surgeon could have managed. About midnight the searching party brought in Falkner, Warren stared wearily at him. The kid was seared. He was all scratched up from floundering around in the darkness and he was pale around the gills. “He saw our light, sir,” said Peabody. “and let out a yell. That’s the way we found him.” “Thank you, Peabody,” said Warren. “Tl see you in the morning. J want to talk to Falkner.” “Yes, sir,” said Peabody, “I am glad we found him, sir.” 7 7 Wish I had more like him, thought Warren. Bat Ears, the ancient planet- checker; Peabody, an old army man, and Gilmir, the grizzled supply officer. Those are the ones to count on. The rest of them are punks. Falkner tried to stand stiff and straight. “You see, sir,” he told Warren, “it was like this: I thought I saw an outcropping—” , Warten interrupted him. “You know, of course, Mr. Falkner, that it is an expedi- tion rule you never are to go out by your- self; that under no circumstance is one to go off by himself.” | “Yes, sir,” said Falkner, “I know that—” “You are aware,” said Warren, “that you are alive only by some incredible quirk of fate. You would have frozen oO EOmicsoo S (S@)