Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

THE GARDEN IN THE FOREST "$f work with maximum efficiency, he would have to find some way to keep her from intruding upon his ’pathic field. One way would be to tell her the truth. That could serve a double pur- pose: if she believed him, her curiosity would be satisfied, and if she repeated what he told her to an adult, her story would be instantly discredited. “T am different from you in many ways,” he said, speaking aloud for better effect. “I come from another star.” The little girl regarded him calmly with her blue, wide-open eyes. ““Which star?” she asked. “It is so far you cannot see it from this world—” He paused, watching her face, waiting for it to betray the surprise she must be experiencing. But her face remained serene and her eyes continued to regard him quietly out of the blue depths of her mind. “But you can’t really be so differ- ent,” she said after a while. ‘‘Even if you do come from another star and even if you do have crazy hair and talk funny, you must be like other people inside.” “Not quite like them,” Ghan said. “I mean, you must have a heart, and there must be a place in your head where you think, and—” ‘I do not have a heart. You see, we function differently on the world where I live. We—’’ His words trailed away. The little girl’s eyes, which he had assumed were opened to their maximum circumference, had opened even wider. | “But you must have a heart.” “But I do not have. On my world—” “Everybody has a heart.” ‘““No—” He paused. The blue eyes had exhibited another unexpected phase. Mist obscured them now, and minuscule drops had begun coalescing in their corners. Then, for the first time in his life, Ghan was bewildered. The little girl turned and ran away. He watched until a corner of the barn hid her from view, and for a while he considered probing her. He decided against it. His original purpose had been merely to get rid of her. It did not matter whether that purpose had been accomplished by design or accident. What did matter was the fact that he was now free to continue his investi- gation without interruption. And besides, idle curiosity was unbecoming in a Supreme Arbiter. The snow around the summerhouse had taken on the bluish tinge of twi- light. The temperature had dropped perceptibly, and Ghan was reminded of cool summer nights on Sosterich IV. For an unconventional moment he wished he were back there, reclining on the patio of his river villa, watching the frosty stars and fondling abstruse philosophies. Nostalgia did not become a Supreme Arbiter any more than idle curiosity did. Annoyed with himself he dis- carded it and began intensifying his field. This time he dispensed with trans-probes. As soon as his focus was established, he teleported. The chaotic canyon in which he materialized dismayed him at first, but he was a veteran of the mad milieus of many civilizations and he adjusted himself without trouble. He withdrew into a dark entrance, out of physical contact with the churning mass of humans and vehicles that filled the floor of the canyon, and prepared for his first probe. A middle-aged man came down the street. There was a noticeable confi- dence in his walk, a corresponding confidence in his handsome, well- preserved face. As he passed the entrance, Ghan slipped into his mind. The man was climbing a precipitous. connicloooks.c© im