Astounding British Edition, May 1953 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

AD PS se iS t is hae Da AN SEK q ‘The problem jciedea them was a nice, simple, clear-cut item: They saw that one -man had done the impossible—and they saw, too, that they had to duplicate his feat. = R. MARTIN NAGLE studied the paint é on the ceiling of the outer anteroom ~ of the Office of National Research. After ten minutes he was fairly certain which corner had been painted first, the direction os of advance across the ceiling, and approxi- mately how long it had taken. It was a new. building and a new paint job, but these facts were evident in the brush marks and brush hairs left in the aint. On the whole, the job was something of an indication of how things were in general, he thought somewhat sadly. He studied the rug. Specifications should have been higher. The manufacturer un- doubtedly operated on the principle of “don’t throw away seconds; you can always sell them to the Government.” _ His watch showed twenty-five minutes spent in the study of the anteroom. It was all he was going to give it. He picked up his briefcase and top coat and moved toward the door. He almost collided with a gray-suited figure, then backed away in pleasant recogni- tion. “Berk!” _ The face of Dr. Kenneth Berkeley lighted as he gripped Martin Nagle’s free hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “What are you doing here in this waiting room, Mart?” “T got invited. to scme conference with all the top dogs and high brass, but the _ boys in blue wouldn’t let me in. I was just on the way back to California. But you're one of the last I expected to meet here. "What are you doing, Berk?” ; “I work in ONR. [m on this conference - myself. They sent me out to look for you. Everybody else has arrived.” “I saw the parade from here. Dykstra of MIT, Collins of Harvard, and Mellon from Cal Tech. A high-powered bunch.” “Tt is. And they’re all waiting on you! Come on. We'll talk later.” Mart jerked a thumb toward the office opening off the anteroom. “The boys in there seem to have doubts as to whether I can be trusted not to pass things on to the Comrades.. I can’t wait around. It’ll probably take six weeks to clear me. I thought all that would have been taken care of. Evidently it wasn’t. Give my regards to everybody, and tell Keyes I’m sorry I hadn’t been cleared for classified projects. I guess he didn’t know it.” “No, wait—this is absolutely silly,” said Berk. “We've got to have you in there. Sit down and we'll have this thing cleared in five minutes!” | Mart sat down again. He had never worked on any classified projects. The fingerprinting and sleuthing into the past of his colleagues had always seemed distasteful to him. He knew Berk didn’t have a chance now. He’d seen more than one good man twiddle his thumbs for six months to a year while his dark past was unearthed. Rising voices from the innereoffice of the F.B.I. agent became audible. Mart caught snatches of Berk’s baritone roar. “Utterly ridiculous . . . top drawer physicist . electro fields . . . got to have this man—” After the F.B.I. office there were still the offices of Military Intelligence and Naval: Intelligence to hurdle. It was a fantastic triple barrier they had woven about this confer- ence. On coming in he had chuckled at this further evidence of frantic bureaucrats to button up the secrets of nature which lay visible to the whole world. In a moment Berk came striding out, red- faced and indignant. “You stay right there, Mart,” he said furiously. “I’m going to get Keyes on this thing, and we'll find out who’s got a right to get into this place besides the janitor!” | “Look, Berk—I don’t mind. I don’t think you ought to bother Keyes with this—” “Tl be right back. This thing has gone too far.” Mart felt rather foolish. It was not his fault he couldn’t get by the security officers, oO Comicbook