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

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

124 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION “Miron,” he snapped, “I’m not going to tell you exactly what to do, or how. You’re supposed to know how to treat emergencies, not to call me any time something outside of routine happens. I want’a report on those ships tomorrow morning.” He glanced out of the window. “I don’t care how you do it, but find out what happened, and I don’t ever want to hear you admit again that you can’t account for any ship I ask about. Is that Clear?”’ Miron nodded unhappily. “Yes, sir.” He bowed and backed-out of the room. He forced himself to suppress his anger as he gently closed the door. Then, he stood for a moment, fists clenched, as he directed a furious gaze at the panels. “How?” he thought. “How does he expect me to know what’s going on at sea unless ships come in to give me information, or I am able to go out personally. And how does he expect me to make a personal check in one night?” He started walking along the corridor. “I have no supernatural powers, and he knows it. He’s the prophet. Wish I’d never—”’ He looked at the walls around him, then shook his head. No use thinking of that. None had ever successfully left the service of Kondaro. He con- tinued to a stair, mounted it, then climbed ladders, to finally come out at the observation platform atop the temple. The observer bowed as his superior entered the little room just below the torch. “Have there been any arrivals?” **None, sir. I’ve seen no sails.”’ “Tam going to send you an acolyte. If you see anything, send him to me immediately.”’ Miron turned to go back to his quarters. After Miron’s departure, Sira Nal sat for a time, still staring at the closed door. He had caught the wave of frustrated rage, and had almost responded for a second. But, he was forced to admit, the priest had justification, He had organized his forces adequately—had been a useful piece, within his limitations. , “I wonder,” mused Sira Nal, “if Buron’s pulling a sneak punch.” He tilted his head. “It would be a little foul, but he might try something like that.”” He reviewed the rules they had agreed upon. After all, this phase of his operation was outside of the home zone, and he was actually vulnerable to attack, even this early. He had assumed that Buron would be too busy developing his own pieces to spend any time on an offensive move at this stage. Of course, direct intervention was a little unethical, but Buron might try it. He had thought his opponent would be too occupied to notice a move at this remote part of the board. And he had established this advance base by direct intervention, too. If Buron had noticed, and if he had checked Nal’s methods, he might have felt justified, and have taken time for a quick, disruptive move. And Sira Nal was forced to admit that such a move might be allowed by Kir. It might be even approved, and hailed as a brilliant counter. ; THE PLAYERS 125 He rose to his feet, pacing about the room. If this were a move by Buron, the priesthood would be powerless to counter. It would take direct action by the player, of course. He grumbled to himself. : “Can’t let this development be wasted. I’d lose too much time. I'll have to check personally.” He crossed to the window, opened it, and stepped out on the balcony. Outside, the sun glinted on the harbor. A ship was standing out to sea, sails set to pick up the breeze from the headland. Sira Nal looked over toward the shipyards. It was a well organized secondary base, and it would probably develop into a highly valuable position. Somehow, he doubted that Buron would have been able to do as well, considering the time factor. He shook his head. This must be retained. i He threw the robe back, checked his equipment belt, adjusted his body shield, and stepped off the balcony, activating his levitation modulator. He swung around the outgoing ship, noting the activity aboard with approval, then headed seaward, to follow the route he had prescribed for his navigators. Somewhere out there, he would undoubtedly find Buron, poised to strike at any ship which bore the red and gold of Kondaro. And when he did find him, he knew, he would have to outline a counter move which would force immunity to his sea lanes. He considered the possibilities as he sped over the sea. Musa sat before the detector, idly watching the vague patterns that grew and collapsed on the viewscreen. The scanner, Lanko had explained, picked up ghost images from heated air masses, or from clouds, but it discriminated against them, refusing to form a definite image unless a material body came within range. Then, it indicated range and azimuth, checked the body against the predetermined data, and the selective magnification circuits cut in. As Musa watched, a sea bird appeared on the screen, outlined sharply against the darkness of the sea. The viewscreen tracked it for an instant, then continued its scan. Another body showed, seeming to come from under ON ee i a a a i ) a helpful, interesting, and ofien amusing journal for you, your jamily and your friends— *: Sc © a= —let Astrology guide your future plans ONE SHIL a FOmicbooks.com PW xg”