Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition) — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

THE SCAVENGERS «gl out quickly—too quickly—and fum- bled the switch to the “Transmit” position. But his voice was quite steady as he replied. “The usual thing, sir. Direct, high- level approach to within fifty miles, dive, level off at five thousand, spray ' them, then decelerate and Jand. Nor- mal procedure from there on in. It should take about two hours.” There was silence for a long mo- ment, broken only by the faint, back- ground hum from the speaker. The miles fled by, a large number of miles. Then the commander spoke again. “That seems satisfactory, but we are taking too long over this, captain. Hurry it up, please. Have you looked at a clock recently? Off.” Beside the captain, the engineer and servomech officer, Bennett, moved restively. He looked straight at Spence, then at the now quiescent speaker, and inclined his close- cropped, grayish-blond head at two dials on the wide panel before him. The dials showed the hull temperature and the output of the cooling units. They each bore a conspicuous red mark, and their indicator needles seemed to be glued to these marks. Bennett gave a short, interrogatory grunt. It was his way of saying that if they hurried it up any faster they’d probably vaporize themselves, but it was for the captain to decide one way or the other. Bennett was a man of few words. Spence shook his head curtly. There would be no increase in speed. Then he turned abruptly to the third member of the crew, Harrison, the gunnery officer. Harrison was muttering angrily, *““What did he mean by that last crack? Have we looked at anything else but clocks recently? Just who does he think he is—?” ‘“‘That’s enough,’’ said Spence sharply, as a light flashed urgently on his panel, “I haven’t time to listen to you. We dive in three seconds. Brace yourselves,”’ His hands flickered about, checking, then settled on the twin grips of a lever that grew solidly from the floor between his feet. He began to edge it slowly forward. The great ship curved smoothly downwards into a steep dive. Strain- ing against the straps, the crew hung forward in their seats, their faces pop-eyed, dark red masks of mounting blood pressure. The dive lasted eight seconds, then the pull-out flattened them back into the padding. That was much easier to take, thought Spence. The seats were designed to swing to compensate for any sudden change in direction, but on a planetary operation like this they had, of course, to be in a fixed up-down position. _ But it wasn’t the ill-treatment his body was being subjected to that was worrying him. No, that was the least of his troubles. It was Harrison. Harrison was going soft. Captain Spence couldn’t altogether blame him. Harrison had been under a killing pressure, both physical and mental, these last few days, but this was certainly not the time to develop a hypersensitive conscience. Harrison had joined the ship only a week ago, just two days before the current emergency, as a replace- ment for Walters who was still re- cuperating with a leg graft after that mess On Torcin Fight. He was a new boy, just out of Basic Training, and like all the freshly-qualified entrants to the Force, he’d worn the dedicated, near-exalted look that sometimes took months to wear off. The great motto of the Force, implying the ultimate in selfless service to humanity, was practically written in letters of light across his forehead as well as being Connie ooolks.e@ im