Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION Jarril winced at the loose phraseology. This man was a civilian, unable to evaluate problems with the cold logic of Spatial Academy, and therefore a person with in- ferior mental powers and of a lower intellectual order. “T owe you my thanks for my life, Mister Foster,’ he said formally. “Now I must reach your settlement at once and use your radio.” “We'll get there,’ Foster grunted, opening bags and boxes which were slung from the camel’s back. He ripped the lid from a_ thermo-can and handed the can to Jarril. “Here, drink this, and get rid of the shakes. And you needn’t call me Mister Foster all the time. Most folk just call me Foss.” “Thank you, § Mister Foster,’ Jarril said, sipping the hot coffee-mixed por- ridge. “I shall see that you are adequately rewarded by Terran Space Navy as soon as I can contact them.” Foster lowered his own half-opened can and stared at Jarril. - “Now look here, son. I don’t know who you are, and 18 I don’t particularly care. And I’m forgetting that I decided that somebody might need help after that rather heavyish landing and came out here knowing that a storm was blowing up. But there’s no call to insult me by talking about rewards.” Foster finished opening his break- fast-can with a strong twist of lean fingers, and his face was dark and anger-lined. “T had no intention of in- sulting you, Mister Foster.” Jarril felt anger at the waste of time in wrangling about petty abstract matters. “I am an officer of the Terran Space Navy. Lieutenant Jarril, at your service.” “Well, finish your break- fast and then we'll get back to the settlement.” Foster was abrupt. The camel lumbered to its feet, almost seeming to rise section by section, and Foster, casually tossing his empty thermo-can away, took the lead rope and began to walk off. Jarrill looked for a moment at the lean upright back and the proudly-erect head, now freed from the enveloping hood, and decided comiclooks.cormn