Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 7 — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

i a NIGHTMARE BROTHER answer, he knew; something was wrong, “But he doesn’t know—” “He doesn’t know anything. ” Schiml pointed to the panel. “A train. Ingenious? It’s amazing. Could you think of anything worse?” He watched for a moment. “No room on either side for escape—he’ll go under it.” All three watched, hardly breathing. Suddenly the girl was sobbing uncontroll- ably, burying her face on the doctor’s shoulder. “It’s horrible,” she choked. “It’s horrible . . . he'll never make it, never, he'll be killed—” “No, Mary, not Robert. Not after the _ training he’s had.” The doctor’s voice was grim. “You’ve got to believe that, Mary. This is the test, the final test. He can’t let us down, not now—” He could feel danger all about him. It was nothing at all tangible, just a deep, hollow voice in his mind, screaming out the danger. Cox shuddered, and glanced up at the brassy yellow sun, his forehead wet with perspiration. It was hot! Steam- ing hot, with an unrelenting heat that seemed to melt him down inside like soft wax. Every muscle in his body was tense: he stood poised, tingling, his pale eyes searching the barren yellow dunes of sand for the danger he knew was there— Then the Joshua tree moved. With a gasp, he threw himself on the sand, ten feet from it, watching it wide- eyed. Just a slight movement of the twisted arms of the. thing—he could have been mistaken, his mind could have played tricks. He trembled as he squinted through ‘the shimmering heat at the gaunt, twisted tree. And then, quite suddenly, realization struck him. Desert! He had been in a tunnel—yes, that was right, a tunnel, and that light, that roaring thing—what was he doing here? He sat up slowly in the sand, ran his fingers through the hot grains, studying them with infinite curiosity. No doubt about it—it was desert! But how? How had he reached the tunnel in the first place? And what in the rational universe could have transported him to this place? Eagerly his mind searched, striking against the curious, shadowy shield that blocked his memory. There was an he shouldn’t be there. Deep in his mind he knew he was in terrible danger, but such idiotic danger—if he could only think, somehow remember— His shoulders tensed, and he froze, reactively, his eyes on the yellow mound of sand across the ridge from him. Hardly breathing, he watched, his mind scream- ing danger, danger, his eyes focusing on the yellow hillock. Then it moved again, swiftly, in the blinking of an eye, and froze again, ten feet closer— It had looked in that fraction of a second, remarkably like a cat—a huge, savage, yellow cat. And then it had frozen into a hillock of sand. Swiftly Cox moved, on hands and knees, at angles across the slope of sand from the thing. The sand burned his hands, and he almost cried out as the grit swirled up into his eyes, but he watched, every muscle tense. It moved again, at a tangent, swiftly sliding down the slope parallel to his movement, a huge, yellow, fanged thing, moving with the grace and flowing speed of molten gold, little red eyes fixed on him. Then it froze again, melting into the yellow, shimmering sand. Stalking him! In blind panic he pulled himself to his feet and ran down the sandy slope away from it, his eyes burning, running with the devil at his heels until a dune lay between him and the creature. Then he threw himself flat on the sand, peering over the rim of the dune. There was a swift blur of yellow movement, and‘ the sand-cat was on.the slope behind him, twenty yards closer, crouching against the sand, panting, hungrily. Frantically, Cox glanced around him. Nothing! Nothing but yellow, undulating sandhills, the scorching sun, and the tall, twisted Joshua trees that moved! He looked back sud- denly, and saw the sand-cat creeping to- ward him, slowly, slowly, not thirty yards away. His breath came in panting gasps as he watched the creature. It was eight feet long, with lean, muscular haunches that quivered in the sun, the red eyes gleaming in savage hate. It moved with a sure con- fidence, a relentless certainty of its kill. Cox tried to think, tried to clear his mind GEoOmicbooks a com —