Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION quick glance at the door of the wine cupboard showed that Walter’s panel was locked. She opened the drawer to get the emergency key—and dis- covered that it was not there. She drew a deep breath and turned to face the enquiring gaze of her husband. She said: “‘Walter, I know what you are. You're not yourself.” “Really, darling...” The reply was feeble and uncertain. It quite decided her. They could never grapple with a really awkward situation. Walter was getting up. She glanced quickly round the room, and saw the old- fashioned poker that Walter insisted on having in the ornamental fireplace—for all his technical brilliance and belief in progress, Walter had a great longing for old tradi- tions, and a rather naive affection for old-world charm in his home. She was glad of it now. She grabbed the poker, brushed past Walter, and drove the end of the 94 poker through the woodwork of the wine cupboard. *““No!”’ cried Walter. She twisted the metal against the lock, and a moment later the doorcracked open, shower- ing jagged splinters and frag- ments onto the floor. Then she reached in and cut off the control switch inside the shattered panel. She turned round once more and said: ““Well?”’ There was no reply. She had known there would not be any. Walter stood in the middle of the room, staring in front of him, motionless. His mildly protesting expression had frozen on his features and made him look puzzled and absurd. He did not speak. Barbara said a rude word, knowing that the lifeless figure before her would not hear it. The delivery chute clicked a warning, and delivered two beautifully steaming cups of hot chocolate. Barbara sat down and drank both of them. Then she got up and walked round Walter to mix herself a cocktail—a fiery one. conmicloooks. com