Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 10 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

ta CO TN Pe Bs ie aa Atat: , - * « + - yg ed S4 *\ Ale, Aa Wee. A Owe ‘etd + he FPL if ae a 2 j tia eel! aye | CRM ea MMS eS kA PALS Na Ovary Vad TAM ae yl AME > 75 f i = ae own personality would never occur to _ them. Afterwards, when they saw what _. happened, they would be sorry and ashamed; but contrition did nothing to _ restore an individual. Hallen had an elderly great aunt who had recently taken up Linkism, since her sight was too poor for reading and her body too age-fragile for any other form of recreation. After five minutes of pound- ing on her door, he aroused her and forced his way into her room. “Pete!” she cried in alarm. “You shouldn’t be home tonight! Your tour isn’t over until morning!” “Emergency, -Aunt May. I want to know where the Linkists meet.” “Why? So you can bring your friends to laugh at us?” “We're not playing games tonight. I'm Pete Hallen, remember? I’ve known you all my life; I know your mind’s as logical as mine.” “Very well, Pete; so it’s just a game.” She squared her thin shoulders angrily. “It happens that I like Linkism.” “The Linkists think theyll contact the others sometime, isn’t that it? Those deserters who ran away when—” “Not deserters. They were the greatest minds in the world.” “Perhaps—more than five hundred years ago. What happens, Aunt May, if there are any survivors?” “That’s purely theoretical, Pete. You know as well as I do—” “Survivors from an isolated community, inbred for generations, separated from _ their own species for half a thousand years?” “Pete!” “No, it isn’t quite that bad, Aunt May. Biological evolution moves more slowly.” “But I just remembered! One of the men up in Village Forty-three, on the - north shore, is supposed to have made some sort of microwave contact with them. Months ago. I haven’t heard him _ tell it himself, but there are all sorts of rumors.” “He succeeded, Aunt May. He’s brought one of them here. A woman whose concept of our world was built on data from the Suicide War period. In point of time, a universe stands between ae "ASTOUNDING SCIENCE, FICTION , us. When she has to face that, her whole logical integration will be threatened. I have until dawn to find her.” “You're sure? There actually is a woman here from . . . from wherever it is?” “Diane Landers. She landed in the Plantation.” “Why dawn, Pete?” “She brought some sort of a primitive receptor with her. I suppose it is meant to subjugate us, somehow; to make us harmless so the others can come back safely.” “And when it doesn’t ... oh, the poor’ child!” Aunt May pulled a soft, fur- lined cloak around her shoulders and pushed her feet into brightly colored plastic boots. “When the Linkists have a general meeting,” she explained, “it’s in an old Fab shop on the other side of the bay. He’s taken her there, of course. I’m going with you, Pete. She may adjust more easily if a woman talks to her.” Bridges spanned the bay at nearly the same places where they had previous to the Suicide War, or so Hallen’s teacher in Cultural Archeology had once assured him. But the structures were very different; each was a single span of unsupported metal, built in a graceful curve close to the water. In his blue turbocar, Hallen and his Aunt May crossed to the point of the peninsula, known locally as the San Francisco Landing. Left a naked, sterile desert after the Suicide War, the point had been converted into one of the five world spaceports. Beyond the vast area dominated by the gigantic launching frames was a fringe of low-roofed fabrica- tion shops. Hallen left his turbocar beside the field. As he followed his aunt toward the row of shops, the first gray light of dawn washed over the night sky. Silhouetted against the bank of clouds was the sharp nose of a Venusian rocket, lying in the skeletal launching frame while humming, robot-brained machines pumped activated fuel into the power tubes. Stacks of sup- plies piled on the field indicated that the. expedition. would blast within three or four hours, but at the moment the port was deserted. Ccomleloooks (©)