Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION marooned on Venus, unable even to contact his kind. The minnow weighed ninety tons. He couldn’t do a thing about straightening it up for take off. What were they thinking up in the parent ship? It had carried only the one minnow—they couldn’t come to his rescue. The big ship itself was not designed to land, nor even to penetrate atmosphere. It would crack up if it tried. Its habitat was space. This first expedition on Venus would be written off, he with it. In perhaps a year or so the second ex- pedition would arrive. Meanwhile. . .? He stood on the little cliff, looking hopelessly at the river. And then, half a mile out, an enormous black hull sur- faced, the watery liquid streaming from its back. He tried to turn and run. But one invisible vice closed on his limbs, another on _ his mind. He could neither move nor think. 88 The leviathan rose steadily until it towered upon the surface, facing him. How long he stood there he never knew. But at last the power of thought returned to him, and it was as though everything he had ever known about Earth and its flora and fauna was trying to flood back into his conscious mind, all at once. He felt his brain must burst. Slowly, the mental tumult settled. His head ached dully. He stood before the monster as though before the Judg- ment Seat, and there was no need for excuses, no need to explain himself, his origin or his activities—all was al- ready known. All informa- tion he could ever give had been sucked from him. He awaited the verdict. And it was not a verdict, but a plea. Thoughts—thoughts not his —charged so powerfully with emotion that they seemed to rock the seat of his soul, possessed him. conmcloooks.comn