Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

114 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION Shoving back his helmet for a breath of air, the trader revealed a sweating face. ““This is getting more ticklish by the minute,” he complained. “If onl we could go direct to my flitter! That superintendent back in the lab will be calling up Chanthavar soon, I’ll bet my nose, and then the grease will be off the griddle!” Langley debated trying his scheme now, before they took on the next enemy. By-passing Brannoch entirely— No. There wasn’t time. And Saris was almost helpless behind a mechanical lock. He bit his lip and waited. The van stopped near the ambassadorial tower, of which the League had the upper third for apartments and offices. Valti led half his group toward the entrance. Again he had to produce papers and go through a check; Chanthavar was keeping the place heavily guarded. This time his ostensible orders were to remove certain key Centaurian personnel—he hinted that they were to be taken on a one-way ride, and the chief watchman inned. “Fetch the box in,” reminded Langley. “What?” asked Valti, astonished. ““Why, my lord?” “They may try something desperate. You never know. This will be a shock to them. Best to be prepared.” “But will the . . . device . . . function properly, my lord?’” “Tt will. I’ve tested it.” Valti teetered on the edge of decision, and Langley felt sweat start-out . on his palms. If the trader said no—! “All right, my lord. It may be a good idea at that.” The box wavered slowly through an opened portal. There was no one in sight, the lesser fry must be sleeping in their own quarters. Brannoch’s _ private door was ahead. It opened as they approached, and the Thorian loomed huge in it. “What’s this?” he asked coldly. His heavy form crouched under the wildly colored pajamas, ready for a final despairing leap at their guns. “I didn’t invite you.’ Valti threw back his helmet. “You may not be sorry for this call, my lord,” he said. “Oh ... you. And Langley too, and— Come in!” The giant led them to his living room. ““What’s this, now?” Valti explained. The triumph flaring in his face made Brannoch look inhuman. Langley stood by the floating metal coffin. He couldn’t speak to Saris, couldn’t warn him of anything or tell him, “Now.” The Holatan lay blind in an iron dark, only the senses and powers of his mind to reach forth. “You hear that, Thrymka?” shouted Brannoch. “Let’s go! I'll call the men—"’ *“ Wo!’ Brannoch checked himself in mid-stride. ““What’s the matter?” “Do not call them,” said the artificial voice. ““We have expected this. We know what to do. You go with them, alone; we will follow soon on our 39 sled. Connicloooks, corn)