Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 47 — page 133: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION - tenne, vibrant on some micro- scopic insect, move beneath her loving scrutiny. Things _ monstrous: great and long- dead stumps of trees and monolithic rocks which might cause her some slight detour withdraw, swift-moving in the gloom, that she might flow past all unhindered. What need of colours is there when to goddess-like perception mole- cules within the contours of all things yield to her sight their close-held, veiled, atomic secrets ? Bodies heavenly: great, glowing, gaseous globes of energy beyond the silver- turquoise dim-translucent clouds of atmosphere about, above her are within her ken. ' She touches them with forces flowing from within her deli- cate frame. They pulse be- neath her knowing fingers. Are titillated, proud, by her attentions. She moves—and: with a strange excitement—to effect a meeting. With thing of polished metal that with 132 brazen clangour of great gush- ing flame she has brought here for perusal. Child yet is she. Not knowing, quite, all things. She seeks in mys- teried ways some further and more intimate communion with new-swelling cultures of brave, hotly-spawning other worlds. They are far off, on the con- tinent on which she dwells. Exulting in their. ingenuity. Unwitting that her will has brought them hither. Small, limb-appendaged creatures. Impatient, she, at last. With impatience of youth not quite full tempered in the furnace of experience. She would be at their side. In their immediate vicinity. She wills it. It is so. . She moves with liquid glid- ings in their field of vision. She well knows of their faculty of sight, their outward looking eyes. They see her. With jaws all pendulant they now per- ceive her. Unsubtle, gangli- — ‘ onic brains within their hair- thatched cranial cases. Full simple, they. She knows it. conmicbooks.comn,