Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

he & bs ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION A man with the sun-darkened skin and gangling build of a Martian nodded at him. ““Don’ t see many professors in a place like this,’ he remarked. “It’s our night out,” said Langley. 7 “Mine, too, I suppose. Can’t wait to get home again, though. This planet’s too heavy. ’Course, Mars is all shot these days, too. We ran the Solar System once. Those were the good old days. Now we’re just nice obedient children of the Technon, like everybody else—”’ A black uniform came up behind. The Martian snapped his mouth shut and tried to look innocent. “Excuse me, Sir,” said the policeman. He tapped Langley’s shoulder. ““They’re waiting for you.” The spaceman’s world buckled—just for a moment, then he recognized the now beardless face under the helmet. This man had pulled a blaster on Brannoch’s agents, down in the slums. It seemed very long ago. “Of course,” he said, and followed him. Marin trailed behind. They entered a booth. It was full of uniforms. One buiky shape wore light combat armor; Valti’s tones came through the helmet. ““Good evening, captain, my lady. Is every- thing clear?” “Yes. All set, I think.” “This way. I have an understanding with mine host.” Valti pressed his finger to a spot on the decorative design. The rear wall opened, and the first stairs Langley had seen in this age led upward to a tiny room where two uniforms of Ministerial military officers were laid out. ‘Put them on, please,” said Valti. “I think you can better act an aristocrat than a slave. But let me do the talking, except to Saris.” ASE KY? Marin shed her robe and climbed into the tunic with no sign of embarrass- ment. Hair drawn up under a light steel cap, cloak falling carelessly from her shoulders, she could pass for a teen-age Minister who had pulled rank to come along on this mission for a lark. Valti explained the plan, then led the way down again, out the booth and into the street. The party numbered a score. It seemed very little to throw against all the might of Sol. Nothing was said as the bridgeways carried them toward the military research center on the western edge of town. Langley wanted to hold Marin’s hand, but that was impossible just now. He sat thinking his own thoughts. Their destination was a tower jutting up from the sheer clifflike wall of the city; it stood somewhat apart from its neighbors, and there must be guns and armor behind its smooth plastic fagade. As Valti’s group got off onto a central flange and walked toward the entrance, three slave guards stepped from an offside niche. They bowed in unison, and one asked their business. “Special and urgent,” said Valti. The box over his head muffled his accent. ““We are to remove a certain object of study secretly to a safer place. Here are our papers.” One of the guards trundled out a table bearing instruments. The authoriza- COMICOOKS.COln - ae