Astounding British Edition, Volume 8, No. 11 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

20 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION for several hours. When he did awake it was to Kurt’s gentle shaking. | “Hey!” Ozaki groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “Hey!” This time the voice was louder. The pilot yawned and tried to open his eyes. “Ts it important if all the lights go out?” the voice queried. The import of the words suddenly struck home and Ozaki sat bolt upright in his bunk. He opened his eyes, blinked, and opened them again. The lights were out. There was a strange unnatural silence about the ship, “Good Lord!” he shouted and jumped for the controls, “The power's off.” He hit the starter switch but nothing happened. The converter was jammed solid. Ozaki began to sweat. He fumbled over the control board until he found the switch that cut the emergency batteries into the lighting circuit. Again nothing happened. “If you’re trying to run the lights on the batteries, they won’t work,” said Kurt in a conversational tone. “Why not?” snapped Ozaki as _ he punched savagely and futilely at the starter button. “They're dead,” said Kurt. “I used them all up.” “You what?” yelled the pilot in anguish. “I used them all up. You see, when the converter went out I woke up. After a while the sun started to come up and it began to get awfully hot so I hooked the batteries into the refrigeration coils. Kept the place nice and cool while they lasted.” Ozaki howled. When he swung the shutter of the forward port to let in some light he howled again, This time in dead earnest. The giant red sun of the system was no longer perched off to the left at a comfortable distance. Instead before Ozaki’s horrified eyes was a great red mass that stretched from horizon to horizon. “We're falling into the sun!” he screamed. “Tt’s getting sort of hot,” said Kurt. “Hot” was an understatement. The thermo- meter needle pointed at a hundred and ten and was climbing steadily. Ozaki jerked open the stores compart- ment door and grabbed a couple of spare batteries. As quickly as his trembling fingers would work, he connected them to the emergency power line. A second later the cabin lights flickered on and Ozaki was warming up the space communicator. He punched the transmitter key and a call went arcing out through hyperspace. The vision screen flickered and the bored face of a communication tech, third class, appeared. “Give me Commander Krogson at once!” demanded Ozaki. “Sorry, old man,” yawned the other, “but the commander’s having breakfast. Call back in half an hour, will you?” “This is an emergency! Put me through at once!” “Can't help it,” said the other, “nobody can disturb the Old Man while he’s having breakfast.” “Listen, you knucklehead,” screamed Ozaki, “if you don’t get me through to the commander as of right now, Ill have you in the uranium mines so fast that you won’t know what hit you!” “You and who else?” drawled the tech. “Me and my cousin Takahashi!” snarled the pilot, ““He’s Reclassification Officer for the Base STAP.” The tech’s face went white. “Yes, sir!” he stuttered: “Right away, sir! No offense meant, sir!” He disappeared from the screen, There was a moment of darkness and then the interior of Commander Krog- son’s cabin flashed on. The commander was having breakfast. His teeth rested on the white tablecloth and his mouth was full of mush. “Commander Krogson!” desperately. ; The commander looked up with a startled expression. When he noticed his screen was on he swallowed his mush con- vulsively and popped his teeth back into place. “Who’s there?” he demanded in a neutral said Ozaki voice in case it might be somebody important. “Flight Officer Ozaki,” said Flight Officer Ozaki. A thundercloud rolled across the com- mander’s face. “What do you mean by dis- turbing me at breakfast?” he demanded. “Beg pardon, sir,” said the pilot, “but my ship’s falling into a red sun.” “Too bad,” grunted Commander Krogson and turned back to his mush and milk. “But sir,” persisted the other, “you've got to send somebody to pull me off, My converter’s dead!” “Why tell me about it?” said Krogson in annoyance. “Call Space Rescue, they’re supposed to handle things like this,” “Listen, commander,” wailed the pilot, “by the time they’ve assigned me a priority and routed the paper through proper channels, I'll have gone up in smoke. The Eomichbooks.co