Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 47 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

STRANGER IN TIME clearing, and she wondered briefly what was to become of it. Even as they reached the trees, however, a man passed her, sprinting towards it. Evidently it was not to be left ~ there. There was, perhaps, a min- ute of running along a little path between the trees, then they emerged into a vast field of grass, sunbaked and with- ered. She saw perhaps a dozen of the strange machines, with men, many of them, running for them; but these machines were far larger than the one they had left in the clearing. They reached one and clambered in. She sank gratefully into a seat. The run, short though it was, had winded her. For a time she sat limply, trying to adjust herself to the incredible situation, then she roused and glanced around. She realised that the machine was capable of holding at least fifty persons, but there were not more than a score within it, of whom many were women. The fact helped to make her feel more at ease, in spite of the fact that they were all strongly 17 built, as were the men. Like the men, too, they had a strength, an implacableness, about their features that rather disturbed her. Many of the men wore only trunks, of some dull, grey material; a few also wore jackets of the same material and colour, as did all the women. At the end of the machine she saw a control panel, similar in all respects to that which she had noticed before in the smaller machine. The little white spot was slowly creeping along its strip of blue; she knew now that it must indicate their position along the time-dimension. “A spatio-temporal shift, actually.”” The voice of the man sitting beside her cut into her thoughts. She glanced round with an embarrassed flush on her face, and he smiled apologetically. “I know I promised, but it’s rather difficult not to read a mind like yours; you have no mental shield to ae behind, as we have.” “T don’t really mind,” she answered. Oddly enough, she meant it. He was not hostile, and she knew it was impossible to judge him as though he comicbooks.conn —