Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

IN CLOUDS OF GLORY 15 the sky as soon as his contact turned up. Demaris watched it dwindle, and only after it was gone did he notice his contact’s hungry eyes following it. “I haven’t been home in a long time,” the contact apologized in perfect Marakian. “I’ve got another three years to go here.” Demaris grunted. “‘Believe me—six months and you'll be begging to sign up for a new tour.” “IT suppose so,” the contact oo “I don’t guess it’s changed much?” “Not the slightest.” The contact expressed himself - in listless oaths. “Well, ” he said with a final profane twitch of his mouth, “‘let’s put the show on the road. I’ve gota car stashed out in some shrubbery down there.”’ Demaris fell in behind him. Neither of them spared any particular attention to the thoroughly familiar countryside. They threaded their way through the broken thickets, automatically keeping clear of shrubs which would have left cockleburrs in their glossy fur. The Marakian Overchief was growing old. His fur was beginning to lose its sheen, and his skin hung loosely around his neck. Nevertheless, his eyes were incisive and his voice was penetrating. He studied Demaris thoroughly for several moments before he said anything beyond a perfunctory greeting. Then he grunted with satisfaction. “Good. You look as though you can handle things. I don’t know where Resvik dug you out, but that’s unimportant.” The contact, standing beside Demaris, made a noncommittal gesture. ‘As I’ve said from the beginning, we’re not prepared to go deeply into Koil’s past activities. Some of them might be interpreted as having been extra-legal. But he’s thoroughly familiar with all the aspects of what’s expected of him, and he’s got the training required.” The Overchief surveyed Demaris again, and shook his head in agreement. “He looks it. He ought to, for the price you’re asking.” “It’s fair,” the contact said. “Oh, yes—I’ll grant you that. Well—is there anything else, Resvik?” “No, sir. I'll get back to my duties. It’s been a pleasure, Overchief. Good luck, Koil.’’ He slipped out of the office, closing the door gently behind him. The Overchief gestured toward a bench, and Demaris sat down, quietly watching the Overchief stalk back and forth behind his desk. The first actual contact with the head of an alien culture was usually the most ticklish part of one of these things. But, again, as usual, it seemed to be going smoothly. ‘““Now—what’s your full name?” the Overchief asked. “Call me Toedren Koil,” Demaris answered. The Overchief grinned thinly. “All right, we’ll call you that. What we want you to do is harry Genis. Within reason, you can do it your own way. I want their navy kept busy—too busy to deploy against our main push. If you do your job right, they shouldn’t even suspect we’re moving in on Farla until we're well on our way. I have no expectation that you'll be able to keep their fleet completely tied down after we make our move, but you should be able to hamper them somewhat. That’s all we need—an edge. Your job’s done the day we put a ship on Farla itself. By then we’ll have the old Farlan COMME IOOKS.COM