Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 46 — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

THE MERCHANTS blubber. Tears trickled down his mauve cheeks. A fat man weeping. Nervous breakdown. “I... wasn’t trying to steal a march on you fellers.”’ Bradley turned away in dis- gust and embarrassment. “Sure! Sure!’’ he muttered, and made his way to the hoverplane. People like Bul- mont had no business in this racket. If they couldn’t take it, why the devil didn’t they get out? Impatiently he clicked the visiphone switch which put him in touch with the convoy. He was worried about that intersection and the informa- tion he got did little to re- assure him. ““Look,”’ he said, “I want you to close the convoy up tight. Get to the intersection first, and pull well over, so that the others will have to dropin behind you.” — “‘Who says we'll get there first?’ asked the face on the screen. “If we close up we'll lose speed. Better leave this end to us.” The screen went blank. The trouble was that those people didn’t know what was at stake. It was just another operation to them. Still, this was no time for a pep talk; they had their hands full as it was; no sense in panicking them. Night had fallen when Bradley heard the tapping on the plane’s perspex. “Care for a chat?’ Guls- worth’s voice was calm and sardonic, but beneath it Brad- ley caught a note of urgency. They moved away from the *plane, Gulsworth walking deliberately, formulating his thoughts. “TI can’t explain how, but I think Bulmont’s swung it.” *““Are you sure?” “No. You know these Clotids—they’ll never give anything away until the last minute. It’s just a feeling I’ve got.” “‘There’s nothing we can do about it.” Gulsworth was silent for a while. ‘“‘Bulmont’s finished. If it’s not this time, it’ll be next time. I want to make a deal.”’ Bradley kicked at a small pebble. He said nothing. “I want a fifty-fifty split, irrespective of who fills her up.” They had turned back now. Could he take a fifty-fifty split? If he lost everything, he was finished. On the other hand... “T'll think it over. Let you know before the convoys get here.” 129 comicloooks.conm