Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition, December 1955 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

THE LONG WAY HOME | 95 Langley said nothing. So he was to be taken out of the game already. That was the end—back in the box with you, my pawn. Valti cleared his throat. ‘“‘My lord,” he said pompously, “I must remind you that the Society—” Chanthavar gave him a long stare through narrowed eyes. The smooth face had gone utterly expressionless. ““You have committed criminal acts within the laws of Sol,”’ he said. “Extraterritoriality—” si “Tt doesn’t apply here. At best you can be deported.” Chanthavar seemed to brace himself. ‘“‘Nevertheless, I am letting you go free. Get your men together, take one of the plantation fliers, and go on back to Lora.” “My lord is most gracious,” said Valti. ““May I ask why?’ ‘“Never mind why. Get out.” “My lord, I am a criminal. I confess it. I want a fair trial by a mixed tribunal as provided in Article VIII, Section 4, of the Treaty of Lunar.” Chanthavar’s eyes were flat and cold. “Get out or I'll have you thrown out.” “I demand to be arrested!’ shouted Valti. “I insist on my right and privilege of clearing my own conscience. If you won’t book me, I shall complain directly to the Technon.”’ “Very well!’ Chanthaver spat it out. “I have orders from the Technon itself to let you go scot-free. Why, I don’t know. But it’s an order; it came as soon as I filed report of the situation and of my intention to attack. Are you satisfied?” “Yes, my lord,” said Valti blandly. ““Thank you for your kindness. Good day, gentlemen.”’ He bowed clumsily and stumped out. Chanthavar broke into a laugh. “‘Insolent old beetle! I didn’t want to tell him, but he’d have learned it anyway in time. Now let him wonder along with the rest of us. The Technon gets mysterious now and then—a brain planning a thousand years ahead has to,'I suppose.’’ He rose and stretched. ““Let’s go. Maybe I can still make that concert at Salma tonight.” Langley blinked at the sunshine outside. The tropics of Earth had gotten still hotter in five thousand years. He saw a group of armed men boarding a military flier, and there was a sudden wrenching in his heart. _ “Chanthavar,” he asked, “can I say good-bye to Saris?” “I’m sorry.” The agent shook his head, not without compassion. “I know he’s your friend, but there have been too many risks taken in this business already.” “Well . . . will I ever see him again?” ‘Perhaps. We aren’t brutes, captain. We don’t intend to illtreat him if he codperates.”’ Chanthavar waved to a smaller machine. “I think that’s yours. Good-by, captain. I hope to see you again sometime if I get the chance.” He turned and strode briskly off. The dust scuffed up under his buskins. Langley and Marin entered the flier. One silent guard went along; he set the autopilot, they rose smoothly, and he sat down in front of them to wait with drilled patience. 4 : iH COMME OOOKS.COmM