Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

92 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION sets upward so we could get a look at it?” “We'll try.” Lackland immediately put through a call on the station telephone for one of the biologists. ““Lance, it looks as though Barlen- nan had run into’a flying animal ~ of some sort. We’re trying to arrange a look at it. Want to come down to _ the screen’ room to tell us what we’re looking at?” “TI be right with you.” The biologists voice faded toward the end of the sentence; he was evidently already on His way out of,the room. He arrived before the sailors had the vision set propped up, but dropped into a chair without asking questions. Barlennan was speaking again. _— “It’s passing back and forth over the ship, sometimes in straight lines and sometimes in circles. Whenever it turns it tips, but nothing else about it changes. It seems to have a little body where the two sticks meet...” He went on with his description, but the object was evi- dently too far outside his normal experience for him to find adequate similes in a strange language. Lance Beck, the biologist, voiced the thought that was in everyone’s “ve been doubting all along that there could be any life form, except something of insect size, that could evolve into a flying creature in Mesk- lin’s environment. The gravity is too high, the air only about half as dense as that of the Earth at sea level, and the storms too violent and long- lasting—no creature that did fly on Mesklin could afford to do without food very long, because of the enor- mous energy demands on its system. I wish that thing would fly in front of the scanner ; when something makes me a liar I like to know why.” “If it does come into view, be prepared to squint,” the voice of one of the technicians cut in. “I’m cover- ing that screen with a high-speed camera, and will have to jump the brightness a good deal in order to get a decent exposure.” **. . . There are smaller sticks set across the long one, and what looks like a very thin sail stretched between them. It’s swinging back toward us again, very low now—I think it may come in front of your eye this CMG 5447 The watchers stiffened, and the . hand of the photographer tightened on a double-pole switch whose closing would activate his camera and step up the gain on the screen. Ready as he was, the object was well into the field before he reacted, and every- one in the room got a good glimpse before the suddenly bright light made their eyes close involuntarily. They all saw enough. No one spoke while the cameraman energized the developing-frequency generator, rewound his film through its poles, swung the mounted camera toward the blank wall of the room, and snapped over the projection switch. Everyone had thoughts enough to occupy him for the fifteen seconds the operation required. The projection was slowed down: by a factor of fifty, and everyone could look as long as he pleased. There was no reason for surprise that Barlennan had been unable to describe the thing; he had never dreamed that such a thing as flying was possible until after his meeting with Lackland a few months before, and had no words in his own language for anything connected with the art. Among the few English words of that group he had learned, “‘fuselage’’ and “wing” and “‘empennage’’ were not included. The object was not an animal. It had:a body—fuselage, as the men ConmiclooolkkS.Gonm