Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition), April 1944 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

§ ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION Queen is proof enough that your efforts are in- sufficient to insure the arrival of a spaceship at its destination. I am capable of offering protection at the reasonable rate of one dollar solarian for every gross ton, with the return of ten dollars solarian if any ship fails to come through safely. I think that you may find it necessary to subscribe to my insurance, since without my protection I cannot be responsible for failures. ALLISON (HELLION) MURDOCH. “Why the dirty racketeer,” stormed Arden. “Who is he, anyway?” “Hellion Murdoch is a man of consider- able ability as a surgeon and a theoretical physicist,” explained Don. “He was sen- tenced to the gas chamber ten years ago for trying some of his theories out on human beings without their consent. He es- caped with the aid of fifteen or twenty of his cohorts who had stolen the Hippocrates right out of the private spaceport of the Solarian Medical Research Institute.” “And they headed for the unknown,” offered Keg. “Wonder where they’ve been for the last ten years.” “Tl bet a hat that they’ve been in the Melapalan Jungle, using the machine shop of the Hippocrates to fashion guns. That machine shop was a dilly, if I remember correctly.” “It was. The whole ship was just made to be as self-sustaining as it could be. They used to run all over the System in it, you know, chasing bugs. But look, Don, if I were you, I’d begin worrying about Venus Equilateral. That’s where he'll hit next.” “You're right. But what are you going to do?” “Something that will drive him right out to the Relay Station,” said Keg in a sorrow- ful tone. “Sorry, Don, but when I put an end to all space shipping for a period of six weeks, Hellion Murdoch will be sitting in your lap.” “He sure will,” said Channing nervously. “Arden, are you willing to run a gantlet?” “Sure,” she answered quickly. “Are you sure that there will be danger?” “Not too sure, or I wouldn’t take you with me. Unless Murdoch has managed to build himself a couple of extra ships, we’ve got a chance in three that he’ll be near one of the other two big spaceports. So we'll slide out of here unannounced and at a peculiar time of day. We'll load up with gravanol and take it all the way to the Station at 6-G.” “He may have two or three ships,” said Keg. “A man could cover all the standard space shipping in three, and he might not have too bad a time with two, especially if he were only out looking for those which weren’t paid for. But, look, I wouldn’t check out of the Tarraland if I were you. Keep this under cover. Your heap is all ready to take sky from Canalopsis Space- port and you can leave directly.” “Hold off on your announcement as long as possible,” Don asked Keg. _ Johnson smiled and nodded. “I'll give you time to get there anyway. “But I’ve no control over what will be done at North- ern Landing or Mojave. They may kick over the traces.” “Arden, were moving. again,’ laughed Don. “Keg, ship us our duds as soon as this affair is cleared up.”’ Channing scribbled a message on the back of Murdoch’s letter. “Shoot this off to Walt Franks, will you? I won’t wait for an answer, that'll take about fifty minutes, and by that time I'll have been in space for twenty.” They paused long enough to stop at the nurse’s office at the spaceport for a heavy shot of gravanol and a thorough bracing with wide adhesive tape. Then they made their way to the storage space of the space- port where they entered their small ship. Channing was about to send the power lever home when the figure of Keg Johnson waved him to stop. Keg ran up to the space lock and handed In a paper. “You're it,” he said. “Good luck, Chan- ning.” It was another message from Hellion Murdoch. It said, bluntly: To Donald Channing, Director of Communications: _ Considerable difficulty has been experienced in transmitting messages to the interested parties. I desire a free hand in telling all who care, the particulars of my insurance. Since your Relay Station is in a position to control all communications between the worlds, I am offering you the option of either surrender- ing the Station to me, or of fighting me for its possession. I am confident that you will see the intelligent course; an unarmed station in space is no match for a fully armed and excellently manned cruiser. Your answer will be expected in five days. ALLISON (HELLION) MURDOCH. Channing snarled and thrust the power lever down to the last notch. The little ship leaped upward under 54-G, and was gone from sight in less than a minute. comiclooks (©)