Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

THE LONG WAY HOME 115 “What in all space—”’ “Hurry! There is more at stake than you know. Chanthavar may come any instant, and we have much to do yet.” Brannoch wavered. Given a moment to think, he would remember Saris’ abilities, notice the sudden slight accent of his Thrymans. But he had just been roused from sleep, he was used to obeying their orders— Valti shoved him. Relief was obvious on the florid countenance. “‘They’re right, my lord. It'd be devilish hard to get their tank out inconspicuously, and take minutes to collect all your men. Let us be gone!” Brannoch nodded, kicked his feet into a pair of shoes, and went out the door between his supposed guards. Langley stole a glance at Marin, her face was white with strain. He hoped the crazy thunder of his own heart didn’t show. So far, so good. Stopping at the embassy had been unavoidable, but | the extra opposition picked up there had been kept down to one man—and a man whom Langley’s conscience required should be told the truth. Saris had not only meant to take control of the Thryman microphones, but to short-out the circuits of their antigravity sled, leave them sitting helplessly behind. Had he done that—was he strong enough? Perhaps! 7 It would be strange, though, if those shrewd and suspicious intelligences were content with an arrangement which would leave them the prisoners of any accident. There must be means for repairing the apparatus, robot tools controllable from inside the tank. There were surely means of calling up the entire ring of Centaurian spies and saboteurs, throwing them all away just to break through Chanthavar’s men and get into a concealed spaceship and flee. The Thrymans were going to escape. There was no way of preventing that. They were probably going to pursue. And Chanthavar wouldn’t be peace- fully asleep much longer, either. The question was whether Valti’s group could get out of tracer range before one or the other party was in action. It'll be interesting to find out, thought Langley. XX In his own forgotten world, they would never have accomplished this much. Somewhere along the line, there would have been a man with enough independence of mind to hold up the proceedings while he checked with his superiors. But a slave is not bred or trained to think for himself. This may be one reason why freedom, unstable, inefficient, stamped to oblivion again and again, still rises new through all history. The van slipped swiftly across a darkened planet. Lora became a bright star cluster on the horizon, and then it was lost, only night could be seen. Langley doubted that he would ever look on that city again. It had flashed over his experience for a few weeks, but now it was as if it and all its millions had never been. It gave him some understanding of Valti’s philoso by, his | COMME OOS .COL