Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

10 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION have been the conquerors? It would have been Farla, buying its military brains from an Agency run by Earthmen. It happened to work out that Farla bled itself to death. So who does move in? Who takes the territory that’s open by default? Does Earth have even that much ambition? “No, it has to be rabble like the Maraks, or the Geneiids! A pack of jackals. And what does Earth government do about it? Earth government isn’t even interested. And what do individual Earthmen do—the ones who still care? Why,’’ Demaris suddenly simpered, “‘we work for Mr. Sullivan’s Agency, and we’d be only too happy to hire out to one of the jackals, wouldn’t we? We’re for sale; lock, stock, and barrel, soul, body, and birthright. We do the dirty work for every stinking little race in the galaxy, and meanwhile Earth government sits pty on its solar system and keeps its hoopskirts “Thad?” “Yes, Leni?’ “Thad, what you’re angry at is that Bill and I don’t protest as much as you do. But we aren’t arguing. Bill thinks you’re right, and so do I, in your view of the Agency being a pretty shoddy outlet for our frustrations. Still, there’s no way in which we can change the nature of Earth’s present attitude, and we've at least got this substitute, cardboard though it may be, for the dream castles we'd like to see built.”’ “And tell me this, Thad—honestly, now, and no heroics—will you quit? Will you ever quit, and settle for a life here on Earth, going from one duel to the next until nobody dares associate with you and you eventually blow — out your own brains for lack of some other man to fight?” Demaris looked at her helplessly. ““No,” he admitted, the peak of his voice broken. “Though we are men, at the Agency, We fight in peculiar skins. Aptly taught, we’re not caught— We’ve been thoroughly trained In the lore of exotic sins.” Il The Agency building was dingy. Demaris and Kaempfert walked down the grimy hallway and up the splintered stairs to the second floor. They pushed through the chipped glass door labeled “Doncaster Industrial Linens” and were in the Agency’s front office. Demaris still felt the memories of last night’s adrenalin irritating his system. He looked around and shook his head. ““There’s no place like home sweet home—even if it’s a false beard.” Kaempfert shrugged. “‘Even our customers don’t know where their cash- and-carry heroes come from. Why should Earth government? Besides, I can just hear what the government would have to say about its nationals fighting alien battles and chancing all sorts of international complications if their origin is discovered.” cComichooksscom