Astounding Science Fiction, February 1952 (British Edition) — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

COURTESY before morning if the natives hadn't got you first.” “T saw a native, sir. He didn’t bother me.” “You are more than lucky, then,” said Warren. “It isn’t often that a native hasn’t got the time to spare to slit a human's throat. In the five expeditions that have been here before us, they have killed a full eighteen. Those stone knives they have, I can assure you, make very ragged slitting.” Warren drew a record book in front of him, opened it and made a very careful notation. “Mr. Falkner,” he said, “you will be con- fined to camp for a two-week period for infraction of the rules. Also, during that. time, you shall be attached to Mr. Brady.” “Mr. Brady, sir? The cook?” — “Precisely,” said Warren. “He probably shall want you to hustle fuel and help with the meals and dispose of garbage and other such light tasks.” “But I was sent on this expedition to make geologic observations, not to help the cook.” “All very true,” admitted Warren. “But, likewise, you were sent out under certain regulations. You have seen fit to disregard those regulations and I see fit, as a result, to discipline you. That is all, Mr. Falkner.” Falkner turned stiffly and moved toward the tent flap. “By the way,” said Warren, “I forgot to _ tell you. P’'m glad that you got back.” Falkner did not answer. Warren stiffened for a moment, then re- laxed. After all, he thought, what did it matter? With another few weeks nothing would matter for him and Falkner, nor for any of the rest. The chaplain showed up the first thing in the morning. Warren was sitting on the edge of his cot, pulling on his trousers When the man came in. It was cold and Warren was shivering despite the sputter- ing of the little stove that stood beside the desk. The chaplain was very precise and busi- nesslike about his visit. “I thought I should talk with you,” he said, “about arranging services for our dear departed friend.” “What dear departed friend?” asked ' Warren, shivering and pulling on a shoe, “Why, Dr. Morgan, of course.” “I see,” said Warren. “Yes, I suppose we shall have to bury him.” - The chaplain stiffened just a little. 21 “I was wondering if the doctor had any religious convictions, any sort of prefer- ence.” “I doubt it very much,” said Warren. “If I were you, I’d hold it down to minimum simplicity.” “That’s what I thought,” said the chap- ~ jain. “A few words, perhaps, and a eRUTES prayer.” “Yes,” said Warren. “A prayer, ey all means. We'll need a Jot of prayer.” “Pardon me, sir?” “Oh,” Warren told him, “don’t mind me. Just wool-gathering, that’s all.” “T see,” said the chaplain. “l was wonder- ing, sir, if you have an idea what might have made him do it.” “Who do what?” “What made the doctor commit suicide.” “Oh, that,’ said Warren. “Just an un- stable character, I guess.” He laced his shoes and stood up. “Mr. Barnes,” he said, “you are a man of God, and a very good one from what I've seen of you. You may have the an- swer to a question that is bothering me.” “Why,” said Mr. Barnes, “why [—” “What would you do,’ asked Warren, “if you suddenly were to find you had no more than two months to live?” “Why,” said Mr. Barnes, “I suppose that I would go on living pretty much the way I always have. With a little closer attention to the condition of my soul, perhaps.” “That,” said Warren, “is a practical an- swer, And, I suppose, the most reasonable that anyone can give.” The chaplain looked at him curiously. “You don’t mean, sir—” “Sit down, Barnes,’ said. Warren. “Til turn up the stove. I need you now. To tell you the solemn truth, I’ve never held too much with this business of having you fellows with the expedition. But I guess there always will be times when one needs a man like you.” The chaplain sat down. “Mr. Barnes,” said Warren, “that was no hypothetical question I asked. Unless God performs some miracle we'll all be dead in another two months’ time.” “You are joking, sir.” “Not at all,” said Warren. “The serum is no good. Morgan waited to check it until it was too late to get word to the ship. That’s why he killed himself.” He watched the chaplain closely and the chaplain did not flinch. “IT was of a mind,” said Warren, “not to oO COPE OOS.)