Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

. AND A STAR TO STEER HER BY” 3i Venus. Wants to take up an honest occupation on his folk’s farm there. He won’t stay.” The old captain nodded knowingly. “He’s just like you, Garver. You wouldn’t admit it, though, until it hit you between the shoulder blades. I knew you wouldn’t stay here long.” “Oh?” Garver looked surprised. “Sure. You stayed longer than I thought you would. I really got to know you that night in Canalopolis when you were working on the old pumps. You were in love with that machinery, Garv. I knew you wouldn’t leave it for long. You fooled me a little, though; I had a hell of a time holding on to the ship for you.” “What?” “I never put the Fafnir up for sale publicly,” Wanderhoff admitted with a smile. “You could buy her, and I was in no real hurry. I had the feeling you'd come around in a couple months. I never figured on getting a restaurant with all its business in the deal, though.” Garver’s expression was somewhat stupefied, then he broke out in a broad grin. ““Why, you old space rat! You're pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” " “No, not at first. But I was sure of you. The loss of your hand was bound to make you a little bitter at first, but everyone adjusts. Harvey’s a little bitter at the universe now, too. Time will take care of that. Just hang on to him. Winch, too,” Vanderhoff advised. “They both like their work. They’ll run shuttles if they have to in order to stay in the game.” “Hey, Skippah! Minus-35 minutes!”’ Harvey’s drawl drifted down from the power room lock. “Let’s get this here skyrocket off the ground!” Holding out his hand, Garver remarked, “Got to go aboard or we won’t get into our orbit for Venus. I should have gone to sea; the ports don’t move. Good-bye, Dutchman.”’ ‘“‘You’re the Dutchman,” corrected Vanderhoff, ““doomed to sail forever. You'll never be content at home.” Garver glanced up the long white hull of the Fafnir. ““That’s home,” he suddenly realized and said out loud. Thirty-three minutes later, Vander- hoff stood statuelike outside the control tower and watched the Fafnir lift. This time the old Fire-breathing Dragon lifted true, straight, and fast. Up and out the Fafnir drove, her steel heart singing with the sounds of well-functioning machinery, carrying Rod Garver out to his destiny. Every man has only one destiny, and he shapes that during his life by the things he likes and the things he does and the places he goes. Garver vaguely remembered the words written by another man in another centur . And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her a eed He had his ship and he had all the stars in the universe shining through that porthole as the Fafnir reached _ cut-off. In every age, in every time, there have been those who are not content to settle down. They miss the kick of the wheel, the wail of the wind in the rigging, the exotic sights and smells of a harbor half across the world, the roar of engines cutting through the slipstream, and the power- ful, body-shaking thunder of the jets. It is to these restless men with the wanderlust that the human race owes a priceless debt as the wanderers push the horizons out to the stars— THE END cComicbooksecom —