Authentic Science Fiction, No. 23 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

98 THE SINGING SPHERES The soaring guards had vanished in the sky. Nothing: moved against the inhospitable, brown background. It grew hotter than ever. Time passed, each second ticking another grain to the weight of our uneasiness. “The guards!” said Fuzzy-bubble, suddenly. “They re- turn!” “Oh, Betelguese!” I muttered. nell?” “Where’s that fool Hart- They seemed to be moving quite rapidly, but it took a long time before I dared push my head up again. Then the cold hand squeezed my heart, for as we stared out yet another picture from the Machine of Revelation came into view—a representation of spheres returning with, aS — Hartnell had said in spacemen’s jargon, ‘““mission completed.” They flew unerringly across the plain and vanished whence they had originally come. “Don’t put your head out yet,” I said, warningly. “The — I stared round in growing anxiety. | first lot may come back.” “Where’s Hartnell?” I repeated. ‘“What’s the fool up to?” Within a few minutes the observer flight passed overhead © and followed the main body to whatever headquarters lay | among those distant rocks. “Have they given it up as a bad job, do you think?” » I didn’t know what to think. The mancuvre could be a ~ trick to lure us into the open, or the guards might have been ~ recalled for more urgent duties. We talked over .possibilities for a little while—Fuzzy- q bubble’s ideas were no more useful than our own—and be- | fore any plan of campaign emerged a sudden scrambling — sounded from farther along the defile, making us grow tense © with apprehension. It was Hartnell. him. Tubby and I looked at one another. “Do you think—?” We could do nothing save hide until the flight had passed. a He didn’t bother to approach very closely, 7 ‘but stood there in the open waving his arms for us to jou) of murdering Makkub.” THE SINGING SPHERES 99 I shrugged. “How could he?” Tubby grunted. “Artful—that’s the word for him, Pop. Hartnell the Art Nie : pronounce. it,” Tiga eed description—if you can “Stop your jabbering and com ” sai e on!” said Hart “Let’ Fonte ae ae rane Bey te all out of the ey eee Z0ing to € trouble of clambering over rocks i using the inter-com so that the spheres won’t ite ieee “i the time you’re chatteri Aronia? ering away like a lot of monkeys on ‘ee eee beaut “ ia that line himself, but I hadn’t 3 argue. is su . s , reach the scout Ship denietich sc ee Sa a trying to Fuzzy-bubble accompani mMpanied us to the edge of the plai vega ea ern eH eee that ata, roe Fs eer rane rope ieee three miles to our right—a 2 —vdut no tell-tale pinpoi flected light betrayed the presence of diate oh chee eae mgt Mee Ep le said, “I must leave you, for there is want oe uaging by events in the Great halls and after Wee * was understatement. ‘Even though you have Hau south a Bea rs e eet sions visit has brought much thousands of lives you hav On KKardoon. Perhaps the many oH € saved from Makkub’ ae ap ae to prolong the existence of ant gear ; nen ren 7 ; ae nee Ones ee for certain, and we shail : ain. e Wi Prot Sie s. § 7 in hope, for whatever the future Saag Lae Ee rcee tt “Little Pinky,” said Hartnell inky, » aD dar’s looking after him all right? ait Bag Pakkan and Zakkar—” “Pinky?” said Fuzz | y-bubble. ee coldness and reproof. “The Grand Ruler of K si on Hoey ye ee a those who sided with Mak. uthtul new soverei ms that a red sphere must ere Wie ee t command, and Rather is their wrath directed against vo ane fey oak “Is he sure Fan- particularly trust I thought his tones held a I sensed the way he made a decision not to linger. Eomicbooks: (E()