Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 48 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

LAST JOURNEY day of the curse. Fool that I was, I thought my sins would be forgiven, and that as we rode triumphant to pray at the Sepulchre I’d find rest at last. They had a good propaganda machine in those days ” He laughed cyni- cally. Am I delirious, I thought, or is he? Or just a good tale- spinner, once he gets going? ‘““ What’s the time?” I asked. “The sun’s just going down,” the stranger replied. “Are you comfortable? It will be about half an hour before I can see the city lights —if then.” ‘As well as can be ex- pected,” I grunted. “ As they say in hospital. How’s your air? Mine’s a bit foul—I think the humidity exhaust’s stopped up.” “Fine, fine,’ he © said. “Wait a minute—I think I can spare about a couple of hundred c.c.—it'll keep you going until I can get help.” I felt his fingers turning one of the inlet valves on my helmet, adjusting the tube 103 from one of his oxygen bottles. “Tl use up what’s left in my spare—there’s a bit left. Problem now is com- munication.” “Is there any sign of the lights yet?” I asked. “TI think I can see them— to my right, maybe a bit over a mile—hard to tell in this murk. You keep your radio on all the time now, or you might pass out while it’s off and leave us without a marker. Ill walk to what I estimate as half-way, still in range of you, and try to raise the gate guard. So we'll have an unbroken line. It’s lucky you aren’t further down, or there’d be too much ‘shadow’ for a small job like this—your aerial comes about six inches above the edge. Anything more I can do before I start?” “Thanks. You’re a good scout, Mark VIII. Best of luck—hope you make it.” “ [ll make it—don’t forget, Fate doesn’t intend me to die yet. Cheero—see you in about an hour or so, when they bring the ambulance.” comliclbooks.conn