Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

GIMMICK By KATHERINE MacLEAN When adn individual thinks he'll lose the eht, he runs. When he thinks he can win the fight, he attacks. And neither one of these actions really requires thinking. But there’s nothing so effective as a complete and total stalemate to induce cogent, rational thinking! Illustrated by Vidmer DISTANT boom rattled the corridor. Bob Calland passed the ammuni- tion and sucked a cut finger, tired and sweaty, his arms aching from the weight of the small heavy space tor- pedoes. He wondered briefly if he should recommend that torpedoes have rough sides for gripping, and then had the further precise thought that whatever his answer to such problems, they would not appear on a report. Any ship whose loading system was cut in the first enemy blow was not going to survive. That included him. It was amusing that the small space- ship had come out merely to target test a new homing rocket that was supposed to be effective against the evasive speed of Furry ships. In the stories it was inventions which saved everything at the last minute. The loading stopped inexplicably, and he straightened and stood breath- ing deeply, counting the probable time left to the crippled ship. It was very little. “Time to invent another gizmo,”’ said Calland, and laughed hysterically for five minutes, at the end of which — time the badly disco-ordinated load- ing system resumed flow and he passed some more ammunition. The air pressure began to drop and 8/7 the hollow boom of slamming air- compartment walls came closer. The Spaceship was being carved apart, its insides opened out to the airlessness of space. Ten minutes later it was all over. Bob Calland found himself in the dark with a feeling of falling slowly from a great height which slowly became the familiar sensation of weightless float- ing. The ship’s spin had stopped some- where in a dimly remembered interval of jolts and dizzy spinning of walls, with the lights flickering on and off and tremendous bewildering noise. The air was thin, but it was still there: he could still breathe. And the noise had stopped. The Furries had the ship. He wondered if they were searching through it for survivors, and remem- bered that he had the insignia of a high-ranking technical officer, the rank they had assigned him for mobil- ity as ‘an observer from a Design Re- search and Testing base. If they found him, they would question him. If they had noticed that the few torpedoes they had ducked seemed to be of a new design, they might be specifically searching for the observer. They might be looking for him. With a minimum of motion he began strip- ping off the insignia from his sleeves. Conniclooolkks.e©