Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

THE LESSER BREED Admans muttered an ex- clamation. He stopped and turned as swiftly as the cumbersome suit would per- mit. His headlight swept in an arc... searching. “What is it?’ said Tutin. “Nothing . . . Just an over stimulated imagination,” said Admans. “For a moment I could have sworn I saw some- thing move—something too small to be an android, and too fast to be a man in armour.” Tutin laughed shortly. “Gremlins, eh, Admans? Per- haps you would rather go back to the airlock? I can handle this job alone, you know.” Admans ignored the goad and started to walk forward again. ‘There it is,’ Tutin said, as a wide, ten-foot high door loomed out of the darkness. He moved to one side, the blaster raised. ““You open it 39 up. Admans turned the release wheel slowly. He watched anxiously as the door swung outwards. The short passage was empty. The two men 21 entered and closed the safety door behind them. Ahead lay the entrance to the air con- ditioning plant. Tutin pointed wordlessly to a small pilot light which glowed on the wall, indicating that the in- terior was illuminated. Admans’ limbs inside the armour were slimy with per- spiration. He fumbled clum- sily with the mechanism. “This time, slow and steady,” said Tutin. The door swung open and Tutin pushed past him into the brightly lighted com- partment. The interior was deserted. The huge fans, that were the lungs of the ship, were stationary. If, as they - began to suspect, Mayo had . done this, he had already retreated to some other part of the ship. The admin officer walked over to the control panel, the medic following. “Does that look like a routine breakdown to you?” said Tutin. The main switch which fed the power to the fans was in the OFF position. It was the work of a moment to reach out and thrust it forward. : comichooks.conn ¥ ¥ ~~ +i ua