Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

——— . 112 learn nothing more from a close ex- amination than he could from where he was. After all, it was the canoe’s shape that was important, and anyone could see that. He allowed the Bree to drift closer inshore, pulled the canoe to him with the towrope, and gave it a push toward the waiting islander. Reejaaren plunged into the bay and swam out to the little vessel when it ran aground, in a few inches of liquid. The front part of his body arched upward to look into the canoe; power- ful pincer-tipped arms poked at the sides. There were of ordinary wood, and yielded springily to the pressure; and as they did so the islander gave a hoot of alarm that brought the four gliders in the air swinging toward the Bree and the shore forces up to full alertness. “Spies!” he shrieked. “Bring your ship aground at once, Barlennan—if that is your real name. You are a good liar, but you have lied yourself into prison this time!’’ XIV. BARLENNAN had been told at various times during his formative years that he was some day pretty sure to talk himself into more trouble than he could talk himself out of. At various later times during his career this pre- diction had come alarmingly close to fulfillment, and each time he had resolved to be more careful in future with his tongue. He felt the same way now, together with an injured feeling arising from the fact that he did not yet know just what he had said that had betrayed his mendacity to the islander. He did not have time to theorize over it, either; something in the line of action was called for, the quicker the better. Reejaaren had already howled or- ders to the glider crews to pin the ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION Bree to the bottom if she made a move toward the open sea, and the catapults on shore were launching more of the machines to reinforce those already aloft. The wind was coming from the sea at a sufficient angle to be lifted as it struck the far wall of the fiord so the fliers could remain aloft as long as necessary. Barlennan had learned from the Earthmen that they probably could not climb very high—high enough for effective missile dropping —under the thrust of the updrafts from ocean waves; but he was a long way from the open sea where they would have to depend on such cur- rents. He had already had a chance to observe their accuracy, and dismissed at once any idea of trusting to his dodging ability to save his ship. As so frequently happened, the action was performed by a crew member while he was debating the best course. Dondragmer snatched up the crossbow that had been given them by Reejaaren, nocked a bolt, and cocked the weapon with a speed that showed he could not have been com- pletely absorbed in his hoist project at all times. Swinging the weapon shoreward he rested it on its single support leg and covered the interpreter with the point. “Hold on, Reejaaren; you’re mov- ing in the wrong direction.” The islander stopped on his way out of the bay, liquid dripping from his long body, and doubled his front half back toward the ship to see what the mate meant. He saw clearly enough, but seemed for a moment undecided about the proper course of action. “If you want to assume I’ll probably miss because I’ve never handled one of those things, go right ahead. I’d like to find out myself. If you don’t start coming this way in an awfully short time, though, it will be just as though you had tried to escape. Move!” Conniclooolkks com