Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

12 | ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION The green light on his board winked out, leaving only the red. Minus-2 minutes. “Stand by for lift!” The room was cool, but the sweat stood out on his forehead. He steadied. his hands over the board. He kept thinking of what had happened in this power room before he took over. *“Minus-1 minute! Start the pumps!” He nudged four switches, and the power room was filled with the incredible noise of the pumps. He checked back-pressures as the needles climbed out of the red segments of the dials. “Forty-five seconds!” The pumps were up to speed and the fuel pressure normal. *““Minus-30 seconds!” The flick of a switch dropped the magnetic clamps of the ground tackle. The Fafnir was now free to lift. “Steady, now . . . steady,’’ Garver soothed over the scream of the pumps. > Weis 20 TR TB i i TT .. 16—” “Come on, baby! We’re going home!’ he whispered to the heart of the Fafnir. mrs ED. SR AS AE ld He didn’t pray; it seemed useless against the radioactive fire below him. The ship was suddenly a straining entity of its own instead of a com- placent fabrication of metal. “Five!” He threw a switch. A relay whacked closed. *“Four!’? Automatic controls, now out of Garver’s jurisdiction, raised the firebox temperature. ““Three!’’ Another relay threw. The tank valves snapped open. ‘“Two!”” The pumps took up the ‘load and shifted into main stage. “One!” Lights winked solid green across his board. “UP SHIP!” Final valves flipped open. The pumps forced the fuel. The Fafnir strained and broke ground, balancing incredulously on a slim pillar of fire. It was lifting; Garver could feel it, and he knew by feel. He was flattened into his cushions, and the skin of his face was drawn and tight across his nose. It was a labor to breathé. Van- derhoff was using an economical high-g lift. It felt good. He was going back into space again, back to Terra. He was going to miss this. The thundering subsonics of the jet faded out after-a painfully long time, and Garver felt better although he was still pinned down by accelera- tion. The subsonics always made him feel queasy and light-headed. Everything suddenly stopped. Gar- ver’s stomach hit his ribs. A green light announced, “Cut-off.” The power room returned to quiet as Garver felt his weight drop to nothing. It made him whoozy for a moment; he was going to have to take a bit to get his space legs back. “Hello; power room!”’ *“O.K., control!”’ “Ship is in free flight. Secure your power room.’ Garver grinned. “‘Roger!’”’ A swipe of his hand across the panel knocked the switches to “OFF.” From the port, he could see that the landing jack had retracted all right. He checked at all four bulging ports, floating to each in turn to see if the external assemblies on the ship were all right. Abaft, the ruddy bulge of Mars was receding slowly. Her canals stood out like inked lines. He could pick out Strymon, Cocytus, Triton, and Lethes as they rounded the girth of the planet. Hellas was brilliant orange while the north polar cap gleamed pure white. In the midst of the red sands, Syrtis Major’s splotch of green stood out in stark contrast. Mars was Conmicloookks.conn