Astounding Science Fiction (UK Edition) — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

54 ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION “Just the same, l’m going to talk to Jorust,” the captain growled. “She’s no fool.” “Exactly,” Thirkell said cryptically. Munn stared at him, beckoned to Mike Soaring Eagle, and turned toward the valve. Underhill jumped up eagerly. “May I go?” Bronson gloomily toyed with his beans. “Why do you want to go? You couldn't even play a slot machine in Vyring’s skid row—if they had slot machines. Maybe you think if you tell ’em your old man’s a Tycoon of Amalgamated Ores, they'll break down and hand out meal tickets—eh?”’ But his tone was friendly enough, and Underhill merely grinned. Captain Munn = “Come along, if you want, but hurry ” The three men went out into the steam- ing mists, their feet rostune through sticky mud. It wasn’t nace nifottably hot; the high winds of Venus provided for quick evapor- ation, a natural air conditioning that kept the men from feeling the humidity. Munn referred to his compass. The outskirts of Vyring were half a mile away, but the fog was, as usual, like pea soup. On Venus it is always bird-walking eee, Silently the trio slogged on. “IT thought Indians Cree how to live off the land,” Underhill presently remarked to the Navaho. Mike Soaring Eagle looked at him quizzically. “Tm not a Venusian Indian,” he ex- plained. ““Maybe I could make a bow and arrow and bring down a Venusian—but that wouldn’t help, unless he had a lot of sofals in his purse.” “We might eat him,” mured. “Wonder what would taste like?” “Find out and you can write a best seller when you get back home,” Munn remarked. “If you get back home. Vyring’s got a police force, chum.” “Oh, well,” Underhill said, and left it at that. “Here’s the Water Gate. Lord—I smell somebody’s dinner!” “So do I,” the Navaho grunted, “but I hoped nobody would mention it. Shut up and keep walking.” The wall around Vyring was in the nature of a dike, not a fortification. Venus was both civilized and unified; there were, ap- parently, no wars and no tariffs—a natural development for a world state. Air trans- ports made sizzling noises as they shot past, out of sight in the fog overhead. Mist 99 Underhill mur- roast Venusian shrouded the streets, torn into tatters by occasional huge fans. Vyring, shielded from the winds, was unpleasantly hot, except indoors where artificial air condition- ing could be brought into use. Underhill was reminded of Venice: the streets were canals. Water craft of various shapes and sizes drifted, glided, or raced past. Even the beggars traveled by water. There were rutted, muddy footpaths beside the canals, but no one with a fal to his name ever walked. The Earthmen walked, cursing fervently as they splashed through the muck. They were, for the most part, ignored. _A water taxi scooted toward the bank, its pilot, wearing the blue badge of his tarkomar, hailing them. “May I escort you?” he wanted to know. Underhill exhibited a silver dollar. “If you'll take this—sure.” All the Earthmen had learned Venusian quickly; they were good linguists, having been chosen for this as well as other transplanetary virtues. The phonetic Venusian tongue was far from difficult. It was no trouble at all to understand the taxi pilot when he said no. “Toss you for it,’ Underhill said hope- fully. “Double or nothing.” But the Venusians weren’t gamblers. “Double what?” the pilot inquired. ‘That coin? It’s silver.” He indicated the silver, rococo filigree on the prow of his craft. “Junk!” “This -would be a swell place for Ben- jamin Franklin,” Mike’ Soaring Eagle re- marked. “His false teeth were made of Iron, weren’t they?’’ “If they were, he had a Venusian fortune in his mouth,” Underhill said. “Not quite.” “If it could buy a full-course dinner, it’s a fortune,” Underhill insisted. The pilot, eying the Earthmen scornfully, drifted off in search of wealthier fares. Munn, doggedly plodding on, wiped sweat from his forehead. Swell place, Vyring, he thought. Swell place to starve to death. Half an hour of difficult hiking roused Munn to a slow, dull anger. If Jorust re- ' fused to see him, he thought, there was going to be trouble, even though they’d taken away his guns. He felt capable of tearing down Vyring with his teeth. And eating the more edible portions. Luckily, Jorust was available. The Earth- men were ushered into her office, a big, luxurious room high above the city, with Ccomiclbooks.c©