Authentic Science Fiction, December 1951 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

THE MOON IS HEAVEN 11 Instead, they’ll have to find their own places out on the mountain top, between boulders, on the blistering sand and tock. And there won’t be enough refreshment for more than a tenth of them. They'll have to fight for it. The money wasn’t spent in making a tourist spot. Every penny of it was needed for essentials. There’s not one luxury on the site—unless it’s Reina, the manager’s daughter. You stop thinking about Reina because you know it doesn’t do you any good, and watch Atah finish his coffee. He stands up and stretches, then moves towards the door. “‘ Going back so soon?’’ you ask. “‘ That tube needs a lot of attention,’’ he answers. ‘‘ And we don’t want to waste time.”’ You watch him go, swiftly striding again across the danger zone, and you know his thoughts are all on the blown tube. Everything else blotted out of existence. You reckon that’s the way he gets so much done. He makes time. You turn away from the window, go back to the table and pick up the pieces of paper that represent your reason for existence here. Just as you’re going out of the hut, the door opens in your face and Reina comes in. You step back, reckoning that the transmission of your report can wait a while. ““ Hullo, Mike,’’ she says wearily. ‘‘ Like to get me a coffee?’’ One or two steps, one or two movements and her request is granted. She sprawls in a chair, one arm flung across the table, the other hanging down. Her flaming red hair is untidy, a straggling wisp of it dangling in front of her wide blue eyes. You step up and deftly smooth the hair away from her eyes. ‘‘ Bad for the vision,’ " you say. She smiles and, tired as she is, a twinkle comes to her eye. She purses her lips as though she’s trying not to smile, and lifts the coffee cup. You ait down beside her. You don’t know what to say. She says it for you, glancing at the papers sticking out of your pocket. comicbooks.com