Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 48 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

RECOIL Then relays clicked sharply, commandingly, in the crazed mechanical brain of the Per- seus. The rockets sobered and stopped their mad bursts of power. The fuel reserves had dwindled to the point past which the ship’s subcon- scious deemed it too risky to continue manceuvring. The Perseus shook itself once, shuddered twice, then continued sedately on a straight, calm course. The keys were still depressed on the panel, but they were use- less now. The ship’s fuel reserves were at a point which would cause the Perseus to obey only its own calcula- tions, ignoring any human attempts to guide it. Bruised in every inch of his body, Nielson was sick for a time. When the nausea passed, he crawled on hands and knees across the cabin, straightened near the pilot’s chair with an effort, and forced himself to inspect the chaos. : The log and photo file con- tained nothing but a mass of 85 soggy substances, which van- ished as he looked at them, swallowed up by the acid that had soaked them. The photo- graphy equipment was broken into large pieces, its last pic- ture still clamped in place in one fragment. Something fly- ing through the room had knocked awry the airlock controls. Nielson instinctively slammed them back into place. As he did, he sucked in his breath at the sudden thought: the controls prob- ably wouldn’t have moved. if the life-rocket were still perched atop the outer hull of the ship. Nielson wanted to grin in exultation. But a wave of pain shot through his bruised mouth when he tried to curl his lips in a smile. With the log smashed so completely, he could an- nounce that he had encoun- tered a spacestorm, a tremen- dous meteor cluster, anything: No proof of the truth would be existent. The report bell rang on schedule, as if it were impreg- comicloolkks.com