Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

IT TASES TWO that Foster would have made good officer material. As it was, it was too late, and a good man had been wasted. A number of events had occurred, and their need for evaluation and __— correct grading occupied farril during the journey to the settlement. The walk was not long, and Jarril was easily able to persuade himself that it was not necessary for him to commandeer the camel and ride—as was his right—whilst Foster walked ahead leading the animal. Jarril tried to detect a flaw in that line of reasoning, and obstinately re- fused to see any. He decided that it was not yet necessary for him to carry out a self- analysis. Time enough for that when he reached the settlement. The overlarge sun rose in the sky, and the temperature rose with it. Jarril was sweat- ing by the time they slid down the last dune and saw the settlement come into sight. The settlement was in fact just an oasis, a tiny speck of human life clinging on around a water-hole. If Jarril had expected some 19 sort of reception, he was mistaken. The huddle of con- crete domes and metal huts, scattered haphazardly around the central plaza, where the well shaft was surmounted by a small motor and driving belts, remained silent and un- responsive. Foster had lit an old pipe and Jarril moved out of the range of its reek. Foster grinned. “With me, son, it’s a case of Sam or the pipe. I kinda get along better with the old rascal if I don’t smell him all the time.” He took a long drink from his water-bottle and spat. “I’m going for a wash, and then I’m going to sleep a spell. Want to come along?” “Thank you, Mister Foster, for your hospitality,” Jarril replied as though speaking to the Commander’s lady after a dance. “As I said, I must send a message immediately to Terran H.Q. Can you direct me to your radio station ?” “Surely. That'll be old Ben’s dome. Over there, the one with all the washing hung out on the aerials.” : conicloooks.com