Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 52 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION » you'll rejoice with me when I tell you that there won’t be an increase in price. Still the same old 1/6. Why are we doing this? Because we love your bonny blue eyes! (Seriously, it’s because our magazine has been doing rather well lately and we feel like passing some of the “‘take’’ to you.) I think we’re seeing the oid year out reasonably well with this issue. The lead novel is one of Tubb’s thought- provoking pieces, and we have another little gem from Dan Morgan. I wish that fellow wrote a bit faster. Len Shaw is back with a time travel piece and well-known Sydney J. Bounds gives us something sober and severe—just in case too much festivity goes to our heads. The departments need no discussion. They are all good —even my own Milestones of Science piece. Tell me what you think of that, will you? Now I'll go on and tell you something about this month’s cover; you're probably won- dering what it represents. But first, let me remind you again —DON’T MISS JANUARY’S ISSUE or my little heart will break. I’ve worked so hard on it. See you then—— FA OUR COVER JUPITER THE FLAMING GIANT You couldn’t live on this hell incarnate. No matter what kind of spacesuit the back-room boys turn out, it wouldn’t do you any good on Jupiter. Be- cause the gravity would crush you to a pulp. On Jupiter you would weigh nearly three times as much as on Earth. Your skel- eton couldn’t stand the strain. And above you there would be thousands of miles of thick atmosphere—atmosphere made of methane and ammonia | 7 and a few other poisonous gases that would instantly kill any form of life we know. # What you stand on would be ice so hard and cold that it feels like rock. But not for long. Every now and then a tremen- dous upheaval rips the ice asunder and sends up towering columns of searing gases and molten metals, so hot that nearby mountains shrink on the instant, only to be rebuilt anew by another quake some- where else. Around you there would be lakes and pools in plenty. Fire- pools. Lakes of white-hot metal bubbling and steaming with weird chemical reactions that send up thick, blinding palls of smoke. And the smoke and the ammonia and the methane get together and the flames ignite it and there is an explosion that makes the hydrogen bomb seem like a pop-gun crack. That’s Jupiter. Sinners go there when they die. conmicloooks.corn