Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 47 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

Sometimes the hard way turns out to be easiest and best, especially on - THE DAY OF ALL ELSE by ANTHONY G. WILLIAMSON —a Chief Engineer in fact. His post was a small seat behind a bank of dials and indicators, with the “hot’’ walls of the fission chamber on one side and the noisy bulk of the generators on the other. Time had dulled the cease- less scream of the machines, cooled the skin-cracking heat of the fission chamber, and turned the dials into a bank of monotonous faces that never changed. Never offered cause for alarm, though at times he prayed for such a welcome diversion. B- KANE was an engineer The passage of time had also changed his face. Turned the smooth, white skin into a harsh, mahogany coloured visage that was warped and traced by countless wrinkles 162 that deepened almost to ‘cre- vices about the mouth. Eyes, once blue and cheerful, were now faded and gave one the impression of looking into unfathomable depths. Over immense distances that swal- lowed you up and made you feel small and insignificant. To him life had lost its vibrant call, the beckoning finger that sent his com- panions rushing through their meagre years in a futile effort to amass wealth—snatching greedily at the spices of happiness as they went. And yet he had found peace. At the rear of the engine room there was a small obser- vation window that looked out from the side of the ship. A simple square of steel- ribbed plastic that afforded a magnificent view of the uni- verse. A picture that told a connicloooks.conn