Astounding Science Fiction, February 1952 (British Edition) — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

THE PRICE. at Ray fora second, and then asked the older woman, “Miss Stoat, would it be wrong for me to ask for an autograph?” Ray answered for himself: “Sure not! Just so you don’t want it on a check. Pil stop by your desk.” Her brilliant smile so contrasted with his stupid joke that Ray sneered inwardly at. himself. But he made another effort to live up to his reputation for wisecracking. “Still got those pictures of your kids, Miss Stoat?” he asked the older woman, forcing a grin. She giggled, and even managed a blush. “All right, Ray! Mrs., then! But Miss makes me feel younger—”’ She fumbled with the zippers of his suit. “Want anything out of the pockets, Ray?” “Yeah.” He extracted his son’s telauto- graph. “Got a letter from my boy.” Mrs, Stoat’s eyes sparkled. “I... we all heard, Ray. We’re so glad for you!” Ray just looked at her. She looked back at him, chins sagging. “Whats the matter, Ray? want to see him?” “What do you think?” “Well, what’s eating you, then? isn’t like you, Ray.” “He’s going up for his Ph.D.,” Ray blurted. “I’m head janitor here—” “You're chief of a crew of Martians that you yourself found and trained. They work for you because they like you—and so will your son!” “Maybe—if he isn’t sore because I spent years with the Martians and not even an hour with him.” “He'll understand—unless there’s some- thing wrong with him.” _ “Not a thing! Don’t start that rumor, Felice!” He felt ashamed as soon as he heard himself. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt others, too—like Twoie, and Twoie’s long-dead mother, that he’d stayed away from so long, He recalled the years Moonqguarantine that formerly lay between a trip to a strange planet and an EHarthside visit. He remem- bered thinking at the time that if he went home he’d arrive practically broke, and maybe have to take his boy out of school. But those memories he dismissed as alibis. Ray was sure he’d have gone if he hadn’t lacked courage—just as he now lacked the courage to face his boy, or even apologize to Felice Stoat. Dont you This 61 Felice had hung up his heavy suit and was breathing heavily. “Everything will probably come out O.K., she said. “Anyhow, you can count on us—” She sounded doubtful! Thinking of that, he got halfway down the aisle to the pay- master’s cage, within sight of the pale, poker-faced little man inside it, before re- calling his promise to the blonde file girl. On aching feet he shuffled back to her desk and signed his autograph. When he finally got to the cage, the pay- master kidded him about that retreat: “For a minute, there, J thought you’d lost your courage.” “I have, Harry. Got to talk you into an advance,” “That would be for the boy now, wouldn’t it? Well, there’s the credit union, and your unpaid salary, of course—or if you like, Ray, I can let you have what's in my pocket.” “Thanks, Harry. There must be a week’s pay Vve earned since the jast check—” “All right. Sign here, while I dig up your payroll card. Boy, how I envy you! Haven’t seen my kids in three years!” “T envy you,” said Ray. “You’re not a total stranger to them. What’s it like, get-- ting acquainted with your own family?” Harry glanced up in surprise. “Why, it’s wonderful!” he said. “I get along just fine. And I’m only a clerk. You .-. . you're Ray Fincek—” Ray shrugged. “Even if Twoie likes me now, he won’t when I tell him what ?m going to tell him.” “What, for Pete’s sake?” “That he’s got to go back to Earth! That he can’t waste himself up here!” Harry wet his thumb and counted out bills from a handful. “With me,” he said slowly, “kids have a habit of doing what they want to do. But then, I’m not Ray Fincek.” “No,” said Ray, painfully aware that a clerk -has a skill that is salable on Earth, but a space-pilot hasn’t, “no, you’re not. Thanks for the dough, Harry.” The blonde girl helped him into his suit again, Felice being out of sight. He went through the office to the transport air lock, walked through its outer door, and sat in the cylindrical car that waited there at the end of a tube. By remote control he opened the tube-gate at the blast-off point, and the few pounds of air in the lock drove him quickly to the field. Eomicbook (G©)