Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION to mine, and no more oil to draw to the surface. “If we don’t get power, we're finished,” Martel had said. “‘There’s no other way to get enough for industrial purposes——”’ Two and a half hours later the descent began again. From his central controls Martel gave orders; behind him, the communications officer trans- mitted reports to the surface. The hours dragged. Steve Martel felt his clothing stick- ing to his back and his eyes and head ached. Many things could happen. Once before, a nozzle had become blocked and the fuel blown back, melting steel like butter... That danger was one of the reasons why Dave could not come. An abrupt shudder ran through the hull. A hammer- ing sounded on its shell. Awakened from his thoughts, Martel grasped the master switch and dragged it over... fumes swirled round him, and his last thought was that per- 138 haps, after all, a nozzle had become blocked once again. He became conscious slowly, heat searing his face and throat. He struggled to his knees. Before him was a jagged rent in the hull. Flames licked through it, lapping round the communications operator, who lay near his seat. Martel dragged himself up, blinded by smoke. The opera- tor’s leather outer garment was burning. He beat out the flames, grabbed an ex- tinguisher, and directed its jet round the control room and through the fissure in the hull.- Coughing, he wiped his brow, and his eyes re- turned to the operator. — The helmet was gone. Gol- den ringlets covered the head, and Steve Martel felt astonish- ment. ** Dave!” he whispered. The centre hatch opened and Hedgerley’s face appeared. Martel dragged his gaze from his son. “All right, Hedgerley ?” comicloooks.conn