Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 54 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION Admans turned. The fans were moving, gradually gathering speed to pump badly needed air through the arteries of the oxygen starved ship. a “So Mayo came out here to fix the breakdown? He did a fine job.’ The menace in Tutin’s voice was clear, even through the distortion of the armour radio. “Take it easy, Tutin,” said Admans. “You surely can’t believe that he did this in- tentionally—there must be some logical explanation.” *““A logical explanation for mass murder? I doubt if your friend Mayo will be able to supply that. He’s out here somewhere, so he can prob- ably hear every word we’re saying. If he’s wise, he'll start his explanations before I find him.” Tutin started to move towards the door. Admans followed. ““Where to, now?” he asked. “The root of the trouble,” grated Tutin. The two men laboriously retraced their steps, past the airlock through which they had entered the Styx and on 22 towards the stern of the Astraventurer. Tutin’s head- light swayed from side to side, searching. The blaster was raised for immediate action. Admans’ armour was un- comfortably hot, despite its built-in refrigeration. His limbs were beginning to ache with the strain of manipulat- ing the heavy suit. He stag- gered on, searching his mind for some explanation of Mayo’s actions—grief at his wife’s death was not enough. There must be something more, some problem large enough to cause a psychotic rift in his personality. : | ““How long are these suits good for?’ he asked. “You could spend twenty- four hours in one—if your mind held out that long,” replied Tutin. “I wouldn’t WOIry—WHAT THE HELL!” A soundless roar of energy burst from the squat muzzle of Tutin’s weapon. It ex- pended itself in a flash of fire at a point on the deck several yards in front of them. “What is it?’ Admans shouted, his stomach lurching. comiclooks.cormn