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of my scattering of sales to a few lesser magazines, I had acquired enough professional plausibility to find the doors of the editorial offices opening for me, and Garrett’s prodding had brought me inside.
    Bob Lowndes, who had already bought a story from me the year before, seemed glad to meet me, and by way of our shared love of classical music struck up a friendship right away. He had high tastes in science fiction, and would buy many more stories from me, usually the ones I had tried and failed to sell to the better-paying magazines. Browne, about whom I will have more to say a little further on, also gave me a ready welcome. He ran a different sort of magazine, featuring simple action tales staff-written by a little stable of insiders—Milton Lesser, Paul W. Fairman, and a couple of others. It happened that in the summer of 1955 Browne had two vacancies in his stable, and he offered the jobs to Garrett and me the day we showed up in his office. So long as we brought him stories every month and maintained a reasonable level of competence he would buy everything we wrote, sight unseen.
    That struck me as almost as improbable as my selling novelets to John Campbell. Here I was, a kid still in college who had sold less than a dozen stories, and a cagy old pro like Howard Browne was offering me what amounted to a job, with a guaranteed rate of pay, to keep his science-fiction magazine supplied with copy!
    I didn’t hesitate. I had a story called “Hole in the Air” that Scott Meredith had returned to me because he didn’t think he could sell it to anyone. I handed the manuscript to Howard Browne on an August day and he bought it. The following week Garrett and I batted out a novelet, “Gambler’s Planet,” and he bought that too. We did another for him in September, “Catch a Thief,” and I sold two stories to Bob Lowndes, too, and another novelet to Campbell, and then more to Browne, and so on. In the first five months of the Garrett partnership I made a phenomenal 26 story sales—some of them collaborations, but many of them solo stories, for with Randall’s help I had acquired the momentum for a career of my own.
    One thing I did, as I grew more confident of my relationship with Howard Browne, was to feed him some of the unsold stories that I had written in the pre-Garrett days, when I was simply sending them off to Scott Meredith and hoping that he would find a market for them somewhere. In June of 1955 I had written “Long Live the Kejwa,” built around a classic theme that I had encountered in my anthropology class. Toward the end of the year, since it was still unsold, I asked Scott to send it over to Browne as part of my quota of stories for the month. It was published in the July, 1956 issue of Amazing Stories under Howard’s title, “Run of Luck,” which was, perhaps, a better title than mine. But as I restore it to print here after five decades in limbo I prefer to use the original title for it.
    That July 1956 Amazing provided another milestone for me in that dizzying year, because “Run of Luck” was one of three stories that I had in the issue. Its companions were “Stay Out of My Grave,” another early unsold story that I had salvaged by selling to Browne, and “Catch a Thief,” a Garrett collaboration published under the byline of “Gordon Aghill.” Fifteen months earlier it was an awesome thing for me to get any story published, and now here they were showing up in threes in a single issue!
     
     
    Steve Crayden growled in anger as the dials on the control panel spun crazily around, telling him that the little cruiser was out of control.
    He frowned and glanced at the screen. There was only one thing to do—crash-land the ship on the tiny planet looming up just ahead. It was the lousiest twist possible—after he had lied and cheated and killed to get off the prison planet of Kandoris, here he was being thrown right back into cold storage again. Maybe not behind bars, this time,