Astounding Science Fiction, British Edition — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

90 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE FICTION think we will make any such replace- ments.” “You need ’em.” “Possibly. But obviously there is a big factor of safety in the apparatus, or our ancestors would never have fiown the city at all. You will under- stand, Mayor Amalfi, that we cannot risk your doing something to the ma- chines which we cannot do ourselves, on the unlikely assumption that you are increasing their efficiency. If they will run as they are, that will have to be good enough.” “Oh, theyll run,” Amalfi said. He began, methodically, to pack up his equipment. “For a while. I'll tell you fiatly that they’re not safe to operate, all the same.” Heldon shrugged and went down the spiral metal stairs to the floor of the chamber. Amalfi rummaged in the pack a moment more. Then he osten- tatiously kicked Karst awake—and kicked hard, for he knew better than to play-act with a born overseer for an audience—and motioned the serf to pick up the bundle. They went down after Heldon. The Proctor was smiling, and it was not a nice smile. “Not safe?” he said. “No, I never supposed that they were. But I think now that the dangers are mostly political.” “Why?” Amalfi demanded, trying to moderate his breathing. He was suddenly almost exhausted; it had taken—how many hours? He had no idea. “Are you aware of the time, Mayor Amalfi?” 3 “About morning, I’d judge,” Amalfi said dully, jerking the pack more firmly onto Karst’s drooping left shoulder. “‘Late, anyhow.” “Very late,” Heldon said. He was not disguising his expression now. He was openly crowing. “The contract between your city and mine expired at noon today. It is now nearly an hour after noon; we have been here all night and morning. And your city is still on our soil, in violation of the contract, Mayor Amalfi.” “An oversight—” “No, a victory.” Heldon drew a tiny silver tube from the folds of his robe and blew into it. “Mayor Amalfi, you may consider yourself a prisoner of war.” The little silver tube had made no audible sound, but there were already ten men in the room. The mesotron rifles they carried were of an ancient design, probably pre-Kammerman, like the spindizzies of IMT. But, like the spindizzies, they looked as though they would work. IV. Karst froze; Amalfi unfroze him by jabbing him surreptitiously in the ribs with a finger, and began to unload the contents of his own small pack into Karst’s. : “You've called the Earth police, I suppose?”’ he said. | “Long ago. That way of escape will be cut off by now. Let me say, Mayor Amalfi, that if you expected to find down here any controls that you might disable—and I was quite prepared to allow you to search for them—you expected too much stupidity from me.” Amalfi said nothing. He went on methodically repacking the equip- ment. : “You are making too many mo- tions, Mayor Amalfi. Put your hands up in the air and turn around very slowly.” Amalfi put up his hands and turned. In each hand he held a small black object about the size and shape of an egg. ory expected only as much stupidity as I got,” he said conversationally. ECOMmichooks.;co ‘~ im