Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

28 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION all in the Agency, with new ones joining up every day. And now you tell me—what do you call an outfit that pushes forward when the govern- ment wants to stay home? What do you call an organization that operates beyond the accepted frontier, that has its force of fighting men, its politicians, and its board of directors? What do you call an organization set up to penetrate foreign territory, to indulge in extra-national politics, to support its employees? Well you might call it The British East India Company, or the Hudson’s Bay Fur Company, or Mr. Sullivan’s Agency. But I call it a private government. And I say this is the one kind of government that’s set up to clear the road for the day Earth—all of Earth, under its own govern- ment—steps out into the stars. again.” Demaris had been trying to interrupt at Kaempfert’s every pause for breath. Now he realized that he was out of breath himself—and that he suddenly had no real points to argue. The Agency was a business. It ran for profit, and the system was designed for profit only. He looked around the office again. With a little cleaning up, it wouldn’t be half-bad— No. The head of an outfit like this was too used to, and too much in need of, protective coloration. “Well,” he said. “Well, Bill, let’s lock it up and see if we can find me some desk space out in Assignments.” “So, we are the Agency’s boy scouts— We do our good deeds every day. Remember our names to our kids, my boys, When we have drifted away. And teach ’em that crime doesn’t pay, my boys, Except every thirtieth day, my boys, And hold out for raises in pay.” connicloooks.com