Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 47 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION first find a hiding place. If we try to get there at once and they stop in this building, they will be able to track us if we are moving. We must stay still till we are satisfied they’re gone.” They found more steps leading down to the basement. “Can we find a hiding place down there, Reyell? I’m afraid.” They paused in the electro- nics department, and looked around. The stairs descended by the lift well. In front and a little to their left was a table with what appeared to be a small radio set on it. Reyell stepped for- ward and examined it with interest. A smile curved his lips. “A recording instrument, Mayina—but how crude and inefficient. Still, these bar- barians had the first faint glimmerings of reason .. .” A vibration shook the build- ing, a tremor that would have passed completely unnoticed by any human of the day. The watchman in his little den, drinking tea, did not sense it. “‘They are here.” “Remain still, Mayina. We are but two; they are many. They cannot detect us through the floor slab above, as we can them. They may go on. But if they come down here——”’ Mayina’s eyes were on the little instrument on her wrist. “They are descending the stairs to the floor above us. Oh, Lord Vilgo! What shall we do?” His eyes were on the machine in front of them. “We must get a message through, even though we our- selves fail to return.” He glanced round the base- ment, seeking a power point to which the machine might be connected. Conditioned as his eyes were to the dark, they soon found one. TED DINTON muttered some- thing under his breath, and rolled over. He snatched the telephone from its cradle, with a resentful glance at the clock. The time was shortly after six a.m. “Hello; Dinton . . . What! Good Lord! Yes, of course; I'll be over as soonas possible.” Susan sat up and stared as ~ comlichooks.COnie —