Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

IT’S DARK OUT THERE Forman started up the ladder with Peters close be- hind him. A gun exploded noisily and lead shot pinged against the metalwork of the ship. Something cut Forman’s cheek and blood ran into his mouth. He climbed faster. Peters slammed the door and locked it. “Don’t ask me what this is about,’ he said, “‘but we’re safer in here whatever the explanation. Lot of madmen if you ask me.” Forman tried the radio. There was no sound from it, no sound at all. He stared through the porthole. “They’re piling brushwood against the base of the ship, Geoff!” “The devil they are! Strap down, Larry—I’m taking her up.” Forman listened to the motor starting. It made a faint whine and, over it, came the crackle of flames. Smoke swirled up, obscuring the porthole. Peters said, viciously: “‘Let’s see how they like some of 73 their own medicine,” and fired the rocket jets,” : The ship rose. Earth fell away and a blue sky gave way to the black void of space. Stars glittered. The moon showed clear and beautiful for one long moment. Then it happened again—— There was darkness. Peters said: “I’m going to turn the ship through one hundred and eighty degrees and set her down again. Hold tight.” Forman watched the gyro- scope, for there was no other way of knowing when the ship reversed. It was dark out there. s/s Minutes passed before Peters fired the jets again. They waited in fear for Earth to show. Forman’s lips were dry, his scalp prickly. It was the year hineteen hundred and seventy three, he reminded himself, and no one believed in witches. Could space drive men mad, give them hallucinations? He fished in his pocket and brought out the special licence comicloooks.conm