Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition), April 1944 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

RECOIL 9 Arden shook her head. “What was that message you sent to Franks?” she asked. “IT told him that there was a wild-eyed pirate on the loose, and that he might make a stab at the Station. We are coming in as soon as we can get there and to be on the lookout for us on the landing communica- tions radio, and also for anything untoward in he nature of space vessels.” “Then this is not exactly a shock,” said Arden, waving the message from Murdoch. “Not exactly,” said Channing dryly. “Now look, Arden, you go to sleep. This’ll take hours and hours, and gabbing about it will only lay you out cold.” “T feel fine,” objected Arden. “T know, but that’s the gravanol, not you. The tape will keep you intact, and the gravanol will keep you awake without pain or nausea. But you can’t get something for nothing, Arden, and when that gravanol wears off, you'll spend ten times as long with one tenth of the trouble you might have had. So make it easy for yourself now and later you'll be glad that you aren’t worse.” 3 The sky blackened, and Channing knew that they were free in space. Give them another fifteen minutes and the devil him- self couldn’t find them. With no flight plan scheduled and no course posted, they might as well have been in the seventeenth dimen- sion. As they emerged from the thin at- mosphere, there was a fleeting flash of fire from several miles to the East, but Chan- ning did not pay particular attention to it. Arden looked through a telescope, and said that she thought that she saw a spaceship circling, but that she could not be sure. Whatever it was, nothing came of it. The trip out to the Station was a monotonous series of uneventful hours, pro- ceeding along one after the other. They dozed and slept most of the time, eating sparingly and doing nothing that was not absolutely necessary. Turnabout was accomplished and then the deceleration began, equally long and equally monotonous. It was_ equally inactive. Channing tried to plan, but it failed because he could not plan with- out talking and discussing the affair with his men; too much depended upon their co- operation. He fell into a morose futile feel- ing that made itself evident in grousing; Arden tried to jolly him, but Don’s usually bubbling spirit was doused too deep. Also, Arden herself was none too happy, and she failed to convince herself, which is necessary before one can convince anyone else of anything. Then they sighted the Station, and Chan- ning’s ill spirit left. A man of action, what he hated most was the no-action business of just sitting in a little capsule of steel waiting for the Relay Station to come up out of the sky below. Once it was sighted, Channing could foresee action, and his grousing stopped. They zipped past the Station at a distance of ten miles, and Channing opened the radio. “Walt Franks! Wake up, you slumber- head.” The answer came inside of a_ half minute. “Hello, Don. Who’s asleep?” “Where are you? In Joe’s?” “Joe has declared a drought for the dura- tion,” said Franks with a laugh. “He thinks we can’t think on Scotch.” “We can’t. Have you seen the boys?” *““Murdoch’s crew? Sure, they’re circling at about five miles, running around in the plane of the ecliptic. Keep running on the colure and the chances are that you won’t even see em. But, Don, they can hear us!” “How about the landing stage at the South end?” “There are two of them running around the Station at different heights from South to North. The third is circling in a four- mile circle on a plane five miles South of the Station. We’ve picked up a few HE shells, and I guess that, if you try to make a landing there, you’ll be shot to bits. That devil is using the meteor detector for a gun pointer.” “Walt, remember the range finder?” “Y’mean the one we used to find the Empress?” “Uh-huh. Rig it without the adjustable mirror. Get me? D’you know what I want to do?” “Yop. All we have to do is to clear away some of the saw grass again. Not too much, though, because it hasn’t been too long since we cut it before. I get you all right.” “Fine. How soon?” “Tm in the beam control dome North. I’ve got a portable mike, and I walk over to the adjustable mirror and begin to tinker with the moving screws. Ouch! Tve skun me a knuckle. Now look, Don, I’m going inside and crack the passage end. I’ve broadcast throughout the Station that this is to be cracked, and the men are swarming comiclooks (©