Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION He turned in his chair to the communications opera- tor. “Send following report to surface: Going down; will repeat signal every twelve boring cycles.” The operator’s face was scarcely visible behind the padding of his heat resistant suit. He nodded. “Reporting as directed, sir!”’ Steve Martel nodded with satisfaction. The youngster had pluck and he could for- give him for his lateness, now. Flame boring was no job for weaklings. Grown men could tremble as ruddy light flickered beyond the mica windows, and the machine shuddered while molten rock splashed up through the heat- exchanger engines, to be plastered on the rocky walls above. Building its own shaft as it descended, the mighty machine was terrifying. Forty boring cycles had been reported when McGilli- gan’s voice came through the amplifier. ‘““Ten degrees tem- perature increase in the heat- batteries, sir.”’ Martel watched the climb- ing needles on his panel. Perspiration stood on his forehead. ‘“‘Report increase to surface.” he ordered, over his shoulder. It was already too hot, Steve Martel thought. The machine worked as in the heart of a fiery furnace, and their safety depended upon maintaining a bearable tem- perature. Martel thought of his son, and how they had discussed this problem only the night before. Dave had agreed that it could be dangerous. “T'd like to come, dad,” he had said. Steve Martel had shook his head. “No, son. Not this time.” They had left it at that. Martel had not told his son all the reasons why he could not go... McGilligan’s voice came through the speaker in an abrupt cry, halting Steve Mar- 136 commicloooks.comn ~