Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

50 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION The boxed lens on its roof belonged to an automatic camera. The meta] whip atop the box was a radio antenna. They could have used the helicopter which was capable of carrying four men with equipment but, once landed, that machine would be of little good for touring the streets. Leigh shared the front seat with Lieutenant Harding and the duty driver. Behind him were two of Harding’s troop and Pascoe. At back sat the radio operator and the snort gunner. Walterson, Garside and all the other special- ists remained with the ship. Rolling forward, they passed the circle of Waitabits who were now sitting cross-legged in the turf and staring at a Keen chart which Nolan was exhibiting with an air of complete frustration. Nearby, Hoffnagle was masticating his nails while trying to decide how much of the lesson was being absorbed and how much missed. Not one of this bunch showed slightest surprise when the car charged down the steep bluff and clattered by them. With jerks and heaves the car crossed the lines behind the stalled train, gained the road. Here the surface proved excellent, the running smooth. The artery would have done justice to a Terran racing-track. Before they had gone five miles they encountered an alien using it for exactly that. This one half-sat, half-reclined in a long, narrow, low-slung single-seater that had “hot-rod”’ written all over it. He came along like a maniac, face strained, eyes popping, hands clinging firmly to the wheel. According to the photoelectric telltale on the patrol wagon’s instrument board he roared past them at fifty-two and a quarter miles per hour. Since the speedometer on the same board recorded precisely fifty, it meant that the other was going all out at a harrowing two and a quarter. Twisting his head to gaze through the rear window, Pascoe said, “‘As a sociologist Ill tell you something authoritatively; some of this crowd are downright reckless. If that lunatic is headed for the city now about thirty miles away he’ll make it in as little as twelve hours.”’ Then he frowned, became serious as he added, ‘Seeing that their reactions are in keeping with their motions, one being as tedious as the other, it wouldn’t surprise me if they have traffic problems comparable with those of any other world.” Nobody got a chance to comment on that. The entire eight bowed in unison as the brakes went on. They were entering the suburbs with pedes- trians, cars and trolleys littering the streets. After that it was strictly bottom gear work; the driver had to learn a completely new technique and it wasn’t easy. Crimson-faced people in the same sexless attire ambled across the roads in manner suggesting that for two pins they’d lie down and go to sleep. Some moved faster than others but the most nimble ones among the lot were an obstacle for an inordinate while. Not one halted and gaped at the invading vehicle as it trundled by, but most of them stopped and took on a baffled expression by the time they’d been left a mile behind. To Leigh and his companions there was a strong temptation to correlate slowness with stupidity. They resisted it. Evidence to the contrary was strong enough not to be denied. ConmMicoooks. corn