Avon Fantasy Reader No. 13 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

fs but command them not to act under any circumstances unless I give the order. Is that clear, Mr..Eitel?” “Yes, sirl” I nodded, and turned away, making my way immediately to the navigat- ing room. “Mr. Barry,” I said quickly and ee “I believe that the fate of the _ known Universe depends upon us at this moment. We will ascend verti- cally, at once—slowly—until we are just outside the envelope, maintaining only sufficient horizontal motion to keep us directly over the Control City. Will you give the necessary orders?” “Immediately, sir!” He pressed the attention button to the operating room and spoke swiftly into the microphone; before he completed the order I had left. : We were already ascending when I reached the port forward atomic bomb station. The man in charge, a Zenian, saluted with automatic precision and awaited orders. “You have a bomb in readiness?” ge | selec returning the salute. “Those were my orders, sir.’ “Correct. Remove it, please.” I waited impatiently while the crew removed the bomb from the seine trap. It was withdrawn at last; a fish-shaped affair, very much like the ancient airplane bombs save that it was no larger than my two fists, placed -one upon the other, and that it had four silvery wires running along its sides, from rounded nose to pointed tail, held at a distance from the body by a series of insulating struts. “Now,” I said, “how quickly can you put another object in the trap, re- seal the opening, ‘and release the object?” “While the Commander counts ten with reasonable speed,” said the Zenian with pride. “We won first honors in the Special Patrol Service con- tests at the last Examination, the Commander may remember.” “I do remember. That is why I selected you for this duty.’ | With hands that trembled a little, I think, I drew forth ae little vial of | gleaming red metal, while the bombing crew watched me curiously. | | @F shall unscrew: the cap from this little vial,’ I explained, “and drop it — immediately into the releasing trap. Re-seal the trap and release this object as quickly as it is possible to do so. If you can better the time you made to ~ win the honors at the Examination—-in God’s name, do so!” “Yes, sir!” replied the Zenian. He gave brisk orders to his crew, and each of the three men sprang alertly into position. As quickly as I could, I turned off the cap of the little metal vial and dropped it into the trap. The heavy plug, a tiny duplicate of the exit door, clicked shut upon it and spun, whining gently, into the opening. Something clicked sharply, and one of the crew dropped a bar into place. As it shot home, the Zenian in command of the crew pulled the release plunger. “Done, sir!” he said proudly. I did not reply. My eye fixed upon the sieerivon tube that was follow- ing the tiny missile to the ground. s fs € jes sur tIGUYICTI > VOR. arty Robbins: | Coulan't Keep from Crying © Sing Me wivure ea wwryis Oe Se ee ae p-2525 | M == 39 = , — GComichbooks.co 3 Much ® This Ole House. la Cina a_a Gy EE a [eee ner ant Nias Wary