Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

SYMBIOTICA 31 two or three of them down, but McNulty told that they'd reason for regarding the would have crucified me for that. Earth laws were strict about treatment of extramundane aborigines. Molders dropped down beside me, fol- lowed by Jepson, Wilson and Kli Yang. Wilson had his owl-eye camera with a color filter over the lens. He was wild with excite- ment. ) “I got them from the fourth port. I made two shots as they scrammed.” . ““Humph!” Molders stared around. He was a big, burly, phlegmatic man who looked more like a Scandinavian brewer than a space bug. “Let’s follow them to the edge of the forest.” “Yeah,” agreed Nepson. heartily. He wouldn’t have been so hearty if he’d known what was coming to him. Stamping his feet in the springy turf, he took a lungful of the oxygen-rich air. “This is our chance for a legitimate walk.” We started off without delay, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the skipper began baying for us to come back. There was no man so hard to convince that risks have to be taken and that casualties are the price of knowledge, nor was there any man who went so far determined to do so little. Reaching the verge of the forest, the six green ones stopped and watched our ap- proach. If they were quick to beat it when caught out in the open, they weren’t so quick when in the shadow of the trees which, for some unknown reason, inspired them with confidence. Turning his back to us, one of them doubled himself, peered at us from between his knees. It seemed sense- less. “What’s that for?” growled Jepson. Wilson sniggered dirtily, and said, ‘““The Arab’s farewell to his steed. It must be of cosmic significance.” “I could have scalded his seat if I’d been quick,” remarked Jepson, aggrievedly. Then he put his foot in a hole and fell on his face. The green ones set up a howl of glee, flung a volley of stones which all fell far short. We began to run, going along in great bounds. The low gravity wasn’t spoiled by the thick blanket of air which, of course, pressed equally in all directions. Our weight was down so that we went along several laps ahead of Olympic champions. Five of the green ones promptly faded into the forest; the sixth shot like a squirrel up the trunk of the nearest tree. Their behavior trees as safe refuge against all assault. We stopped about eighty yards from that tree which, for all we knew, might have been ready for us with a monster load of darts. Our minds recalled what one bush had done. Scattering in a thin line, each ready to flop at the first untoward motion, we edged cautiously toward it. Nothing happened. We went nearer. Still nothing happened. In this manner we got well beneath its branches and close to its trunk. There was a strange fragrance like that of a mixture of pineapple and cinnamon. The elusive throbbing was stronger than ever. It was a big, imposing tree. Its dark green, - fibrous trunk, seven feet in diameter, soared up to twenty-five feet before it split into strong, lengthy branches each of which ter- minated in one huge, spatulate leaf. Looking at that trunk, it was difficult to tell how our quarry had fled up it, but he’d performed the feat like an adept. All the same, we couldn’t see him. Care- fully, we went around the tree, gazing up into its great branches through which the green light filtered in large mosaic patterns. There was not a sign of him. No doubt about it, he was somewhere up there, but he simply couldn’t be spotted by us. There wasn’t any way in which he could have passed from this tree to its nearest neighbor, neither could he have come down. Our view up this lump of alien timber was fairly good considering the peculiar light, but the more we stared the more invisible he remained. “That’s a puzzler!” Jepson stepped well away from the trunk, seeking a better angle of view. With a mighty swoosh a branch above his head drove down. Its spatulate leaf smacked him squarely in the back and a waft of pineapple and cinnamon went all over the place. Just as swiftly, the branch went up, carrying Jepson high into the air. Swearing like a tail mechanic, he struggled furiously while we gathered below him. He was stuck to the underside of that great leaf, gradually became covered in thick, yellowy- green goo as he writhed. The stuff must have been fifty times stickier than bird-lime. Together we roared at him to keep still before he got the deadly junk spread all over his face. Already this clothes were covered with it, his left arm tied up in it. He looked a mess. It was obvious that once he smeared it over his mouth and nostrils he’d stick up there and quietly suffocate, - comiclooks CO