Astounding Science Fiction, February 1952 (British Edition) — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

THE MONKEY WRENCH By GORDON ARY HARMON was not an ungifted young man. He had the intelligence to carve himself a position as a Lowland society lawyer, which on Venus is not easy to do. And he had the discernment to con- solidate that position by marrying into the family of one of the leading drug-exporters. _ But, nevertheless, from the scientific view- point, he was a layman; and laymen, in their ignorance, should never be allowed to play with delicate technical equipment; for the result will be trouble, as surely as it is the first time a baby gets its hands on a match. His wife was a _ high-spirited woman; and would have been hard to handle at times if it had not been for the fact that she was foolish enough to love him. Since he did not love her at all, it was conse- quently both simple and practical to ter- minate all quarrels by dropping out of sight for several days until her obvious fear of losing him for good brought her to a proper humility. He took good care, each time he disappeared, to pick some new and secure hiding place where past ex- perience or her several years’ knowledge of his habits would be no help in locating him. Actually, he enjoyed thinking up new and undiscoverable belt-holes, and made a hobby out of discovering them. Consequently, he was in high spirits the - gray winter afternoon he descended un- announced on the weather station of Burke Mcintyre, high in the Lonesome Moun- tains, a jagged, kindless chain of the deserted shorelands of Venus’ Northern Sea. He had beaten a blizzard to the dome with minutes to spare; and now, with his small two-place flier safely stowed away, and a meal of his host’s best supplies under his belt, he sat reveling in the comfort of his position and listening to the hundred and fifty mile-per-hour, subzero winds lashing impotently at the arching roof overhead. “Ten minutes more,” he said to Burke, “and Vd have had a tough time making it.” “Tough!” snorted Burke. He was a big, heavy-featured blond man with a kindly contempt for all of humanity aside from the favored class of meteorologists. “You Lowlanders are too used to that present day Garden of Eden you have down below. Ten minutes more and you'd have been spread over one of the peaks around here 28) R. DICKSON to wait for the spring searching party to gather your bones.” ; Cary laughed in cheerful disbelief. “Try it, if you don’t believe me,” Burke. “No skin off my nose if you have the sense to listen to reason. your bug up right now if you want.” “Not me,’ Cary’s brilliant white teeth flashed in his swarthy face. “I know when I’m comfortable. And that’s no way to treat your guest, tossing him out into the storm when he’s just arrived.” “Some guest,’ rumbled Burke. “I shake hands with you after the graduation ex- ercises, don’t hear a word from you for Six years and then suddenly youre knock- ing at my door here in the hinterland.” “I came on impulse,” said Cary. “It’s the prime rule of my life. Always act on im- pulse, Burke. It puts the sparkle in existence.” “And leads you to an early grave,” Burke supplemented. “If you have the wrong impulses,” said Cary. “But then if you get sudden urges te jump off cliffs or play Russian Roulette then you're too stupid to live, anyway.” “Cary,” said Burke heavily, “you’re a shallow thinker.” : “And youre a stodgy one,” grinned said don’t ‘Take Cary. “Suppose you quit insulting me and - tell me something about yourself. What's this hermit’s existence of yours like? What do you do?” “What do I do?” repeated Burke. “T work.” _ “But just how?” Cary said, settling him- self cozily back into his chair. “Do you send up balloons? Catch snow in a pail to find how much fell? Take sights on the stars? Or what?” Burke shook his head at him and smiled tolerantly. | “Now what do you want to know for?” he asked. “It ll just go in one ear and out the other.” “Oh, some of it might stick,” said Cary. “Go ahead, anyhow.” “Well, if you insist on my talking to entertain you,” he answered, “I don’t do anything so picturesque. I just sit at a desk and prepare weather data for transmission to the Weather Center down at Capital City.” “Aha!=-Cary said, waggling a lazy fore- boo Eom “S (S@)