Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

IMPOSTOR 49 of-the-way woods would suddenly catch fire and burn. Now you know.” He stood smoking, watching the men. They were dragging the gro- tesque remains from the ship. The body was stiff, the arms and legs rigid. “Youll find the bomb, now,” Olham said. The men laid the body on the ground. Peters bent down. “I think I see the corner of it.” He reached out, touching the body. The chest of the corpse had been laid open. Within the gaping tear something glinted, something metal. The men stared at the metal without speaking. “That would have destroyed us all, if it had lived,’ Peters said. “‘That metal box, there.”’ There was silence. “I think we owe you something,” Peters said to Olham. ““This must have been a nightmare to you. If you hadn’t escaped, we would have—”’ He broke off. Olham put out his cigarette. “I knew, of course, that the robot had never reached me. But I had no way of proving it. Sometimes it isn’t possible to prove a thing right away. That was the whole trouble. There wasn’t any way I could demonstrate that I was myself.” “How about a vacation?’ Peters said. “I think we might work out .a month’s vacation for you. You could take it easy, relax.” “IT think right now I want to go home,”? Olham said. “All right, then,” “Whatever you say.” Nelson had squatted down on the ground, beside the corpse. He reached out toward the glint of metal visible within the chest. ‘Don’t touch it,’? Olham said. “It might still go off. We better let the demolition squad take care of it later on.” Nelson said nothing. Suddenly he Peters said. grabbed hold of the metal, reaching his hand inside the chest. He pulled. “What are you doing?’’ Olham cried. Nelson stood up. He was holding onto the metal object. His face was blank with terror. It was a metal knife, an Outspace needle-knife, covered with blood. “This killed him,’ Nelson whis- pered. “My friend was killed with this.”” He looked at Olham. “You killed him with this and left him beside the ship. Olham was trembling. His teeth chattered. He looked from the knife © to the body. “This can’t be Olham,”’ he said. His mind spun, everything was whirling. ““Was I wrong?” He gaped. “But if that’s Olham, then I must be—”’ He did not complete the sentence, only the first phrase. The blast was visible all the way to Alpha Centauri. Follow the trend of the ‘*New Look” ASTOUNDING and STREAMLINE YOUR Science-fiction interests FANTASY BOOK CENTRE Specialists in Stf. books (English & American) Magazines (English & American) Unique Library Service Subscriptions Binding, &c., &c. _ Write or call at 52 STOKE NEWINGTON ROAD LONDON, N.16 or 10 SICILIAN AVENUE, SOUTH- AMPTON ROW, LONDON, W.C.1 Comilchbooksrcom