Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 51 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

IT’S DARK OUT THERE And, though the ship was powered by atomic energy, their fuel would not last for ever. He could not understand what was happening. Peters reversed the ship again; and again they waited for Earth to show. Forman tried not to hope for too much, to expect nothing—but it was hard when his thoughts turned to Margaret. The darkness ended and Earth swam into view, a luxuriant green ball obscured by cloud. Peters swore because he could not see what sort of territory lay below. He fired the retarding jets and prayed. The cloud cleared a little, but it was too late then. Dense jungle waited for them, swamp-ridden and menaced by the projecting limbs of immense trees. The ship crashed down through a tangle of foliage and creeper, swaying from side to side, and landed at an angle with the fork of a tree trunk supporting it. The portholes misted over and they could see nothing. Forman opened the door. 77 It was like opening up a blast furnace. Heat rushed in and soaked him. The pungent smell of swamp water assailed his nostrils. It was green; starkly, vividly green. He saw leaves twelve feet across, vines as thick as his wrist. The atmosphere was oppressive. “Pinch me and I'll wake up,” Peters said. ““T wish that were true.” ‘There was movement below. A voice, speaking English, but with an accent quite different from any Forman had heard before. ‘“‘What period are you?” They stared down into the matted vegetation. A man struggled into view. He was small, slim, with a head incon- gruously large for his body, and dressed in a one-piece silver-grey suit which zipped up the front. He repeated his question. Forman and Peters stared blankly at each other. “T don’t know what—— Something came out of the jungle. It was scaly and moved fast, darting for the small comiclooks.corn