Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

IT’S DARK OUT THERE At least, he hoped they would return. “Three...two.. Margaret—— ** Fire!” Larry was pushed down into the resilient padding of his seat. He felt the padding spread under him. Noise thun- dered in his ears. There was a gentle swaying motion. It was uncomfortable, but he did not lose consciousness. He stared through the port- hole above his head. Where, before, the blue of a summer sky had shown, he now saw a darkness that was space and the glitter of stars. The moon edged into view, a crescent of light, pock-marked with craters. Pressure eased and the noise of the rockets died to a whisper. Geoff Peters broke the fastening on his safety-belt and stretched his legs. He was grinning all over his cheeky face. “‘We made it! We——’”’ The change was as sudden as the flick of a switch. One 33 > ONG 3 67 moment there were the moon and stars beyond the port- hole; the next, abysmal dark- ness. Nothing. NEITHER MAN SPOKE. FOR A moment like that there are no words—only a primeval fear welling up from the depths of the subconscious. They stared at the porthole, seeking one spark of light, and there was none. Forman cursed, spun on his heels to look back. The rear porthole should have been filled with the immense bulk of Earth. And there was only blackness. “No doubt there is some scientific explanation,”’ Peters said, tight-lipped. Forman wasn’t thinking about scientific explanations. Earth had vanished and, with it, Margaret. He remembered the ships which had not returned and a cold chill racked his body. Peters began moving about the cabin, reading instruments. The electric light remained steady; whatever it was that comiclooks.corn