Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

FIRST DOWN were studying for this thing on your bun a day. I had my dreams, the dreams of all mankind. At that, you’re only the physical agency of that dream.” “I suppose you’ve as much right to your dreams as any other man,” Curry agreed reluctantly. ‘“‘But the way you chose to realise them is so stupidly typical. Get where you want to go on the backs of others. Plead all you like, but there is no other way out. I must consider the team and———”’ “But you can’t throw me out into space. You can’t do that! I’ve struggled for this moment in history too. I’ve schemed and planned, hating life, hating myself, wishing I could share that vision of conquering the stars. Maybe I did wrong, stowing away, but something stronger than myself drove me on ay “It’s no use, Steve. Man- kind desperately: needs the planets. Just think of the cesspool that is the Earth we know.” Curry found a de- risory wonder that he was arguing with the fellow at all. Why not get it over with right away? After all, he had the gun, hadn’t he? He moved his plastic and leather legs into a more comfortable posi- tion, moving closer to the rim of the airlock. “Don’t I know it’s a cess- pool. I’ve always got what I wanted—after I found out that you don’t have to be the kicked all your life. I don’t think I'd remain sane under the thought of that alone if you threw me out. Can’t we turn back? Try again in a few days?” ““We can’t turn back. That’s final. As it is we’re running on the fine edge of ruin, what with the atom stockpiles build- ing up down there. Mankind just can’t wait for the planets. Your few days would make all the difference. You'll just have to go overboard insane, that’s all.” ‘““What you mean is that there'll be a lot more kids like you and I were, crippled mentally and physically, if Earth doesn’t blow off steam reaching the planets? That’s it, isn’t it?” ““You’ve said it, Steve. Now get down that lock.” “Don’t make me do it, Curry! Don’t force me to it! For God’s sake!”’ And even as he spoke Steve ballooned up from the hatch, floundered into Curry. The pair twisted in a writhing tension, like partners in some macabre underwater pas-de- 69- conmicloooks.comnn