Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

8 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION a metal deck, then a head topped with a thatch of black hair peered down the hatch. “Just a sec, Skipper! It’s the last of the eight, two down, the Canalopolis steelers leadin’ five to three. I just want to hear—”’ Vanderhoff put his hands on his hips. “Take your choice: food or baseball.””’ The electronics man stood in awkward silence for a moment, then grinned. “I thought I heard you mention food!” He bounded down the ladder, almost hand over hand. *“Garver, this is Winch Astrabadi—”’ Vanderhoff began. ““W. Winchell Astrabadi!’? Winch corrected him, rolling down his sleeves. Vanderhoff merely — glowered. “Winch Astrabadi,” he went on. ““Sneak-current boy aboard. Winch, this is Rod Garver, our new jetman.” Winch stretched out his hand and grinned. ‘“‘Glad to meetcha!”’ Shaking hands, Garver tried to size the electronics man up. He was a small man, slightly built, with an air of lazy bravado about him. Although his accent placed him as from some- where in Greater New York, the square lines of his jaw and the sandy tan of his complexion were those of the Arabic race. Garver knew men pretty well, and he decided Winch would be a good lad to have around, whether for dovar data in the asteroids or in a barroom scrap. The old first mate had him pegged right away as one of those men who knew his stuff and liked his job, who could think fast and straight in a tough spot and spit in danger’s face. Winch glanced momentarily at Garver’s hand, but didn’t say any- thing about it. If the skipper thought a one-handed jetman could do the job, the electronics man was willing to accept it. Vanderhoff busied himself at the desk, putting a few things in his pockets and shoving other things into the desk. “‘Let’s go.” Winch climbed the ladder again until his head was in the compartment above. ““Come on, Cosmo, boy. Time for chow! Easy now; you're not in free fall!” He returned with a rangy yellow tomcat in his arms. Petting the mascot, he went on, ‘‘Cosmo, meet Jetman Garver.” Cosmo merely looked disdainfully at the new member of the crew until Garver reached out and rubbed him under the chin. The cat stuck his jaw out and enjoyed it. Garver was now on temporary probation. As Vanderhoff started down the ladder, Garver looked around. ““Where’s the rest of the crew?’ he asked. Winch looked at him impatiently. *““You’re thinking we maybe need a bigger crew? The Fafnir ain’t no liner!” Which was true, Garver then real- ized. Vanderhoff, in the interest of cutting costs, had cut the crew to the bone. The skipper probably did his own piloting, all the astrogation, and handled the control room jetman’s job as well. Being ‘“sneak-current”’ man, Winch undoubtedly took care of communications, dovar and radar, and electronic control; which left Garver with the job of chief jetman, power Officer, air officer, maintenance officer, and ship electrician. Quite a job. Jetman on the Fafnir called for a jack-of-all-trades. With his experience, he could handle it— and he had an idea it would be inter- esting, especially on a ship in the Fafnir’s condition. In the League club Garver ran into Angus McBee again as he went to the cigar stand to pick up some cigarettes. “Ye dinna come back, so I took yer COLA Connicloooks