Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

12 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION “You came very quietly. You must have circled and walked in from the west.” “No,” said Maltby deliberately, “I stayed in the east.” She seemed to consider that. She was silent, her lean face creased into a frown. She pressed her lips together, finally; there was a bruise there that must have hurt, for she winced, then she said: “What did you discover? Did you find any—” She stopped. Consciousness of the bruise on her lip must have penetrated at that moment. Her hand jerked up, her fingers touched the tender spot. Her eyes came alive with the violence of her comprehension. Before she could speak, Maltby said: “Yes, you’re quite right.” She stood looking at him. Her stormy gaze quietened. She said finally, in a stony voice: “If you try that again I shall feel justified in shooting you.” Maltby shook his head. He said unsmil- ing - “And spend the rest of your life here alone? You’d go mad.” He saw instantly that her basic anger was too great for that kind of logic. He went on swiftly: “Besides, you’d have to shoot me in the back. I have no doubt you could do that in the line of duty. But not for personal reasons.” Her compressed lips—separated. To his amazement there were suddenly tears in her eyes. Anger tears, obviously. But tears! She stepped forward with a quick move- ment and slapped his face. “You robot!” she sobbed. Maltby stared at her ruefully; then he laughed. Finally he said, a trace of mockery in his tone: | “If I remember rightly, the lady who just spoke is the same one who delivered a ring- ing radio address to all the planets of the Fifty Suns swearing that in fifteen thousand years Earth people had forgotten all their prejudices against robots. “Is it possible,” he finished, “that the problem on closer investigation is proving more difficult?” There was no answer. The Honorable Gloria Cecily brushed past him and disap- peared into the interior of the ship. She came out again a few minutes later. Her expression was more serene; Maltby noted that she had removed all trace of the tears. She looked at him steadily, said: “What did you discover when you were out? I’ve been delaying my call to the ship till you returned.” Maltby said: “I thought they asked you to call at 010 hours.” The woman shrugged; and there was an arrogant note in her voice as she replied: “They'll take my calls when I make them. Did you find any sign of intelligent life?” Maltby allowed himself brief pity for a human being who had as many shocks still to absorb as had Grand Captain Laurr. One of the books he had read while aboard the battleship about colonists of re- mote planets had dealt very specifically with castaways. He shook himself and began his descrip- tion. ‘Mostly marsh land in the valley and there’s jungle, very old. Even some of the trees are immense, though sections show no growth rings—some interesting beasts and a four-legged, two-armed thing that watched me from a distance. It carried a spear but it was too far away for me to use my hypno- tism on it. There must be a village some- where, perhaps on the valley rim. My idea is that during the next months Ill cut the ship into small sections and transport it to drier ground. | “I would say that we have the following information to offer the ship’s scientists: We're on a planet of a G-type sun. The sun must be larger than the average yellow- white type and have a larger surface temperature. “It must be larger and hotter because, though it’s far away, it is hot enough to keep the northern hemisphere of this planet in a semitropical condition. “The sun was quite a bit north at mid- day, but now its swinging back to the south. I’d say offhand the planet must be tilted at about forty degrees, which means there’s a cold winter coming up, though that doesn’t fit with the age and type of the vegetation.” The Lady Laurr was frowning. “It doesn’t seem very helpful,” she said. “But, oh course, I’m only an executive.” “And I’m only a meteorologist.” “Exactly. Come in. Perhaps my astro- physicist can make something of it.” “Your astrophysicist!” said Maltby. But he didn’t say it aloud. He followed her into the segment of ship and closed the door. Maltby examined the interior of the maim ComiclboookksS.c©