Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 56 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION “‘Cab, sir?’’ The helicar swooped, and ticked over gently beside him. He must have given the address. He spoke the words without meaning to, and then sat back, angry with himself and withall that had happened. The journey was a short one. They came down in a quiet street on the outskirts of the city—just the sort of deadly, drab, hopeless street in which so many of his colleagues would find them- selves this evening. He got out. There was a strange constriciion in his throat. He felt frightened. The helicar had gone. He rang the doorbell, and in a few moments she was standing there before him. She was more beautiful than he had thought—far more beautiful than he could have guessed from that first brief glimpse in the dark mirror of the window —but it was not her appear- ance that meant so much to him. He knew so much more than that about her, and it was all clear and bright, and as it should be, so that he felt humble before her. = He said: “‘I’m——” “T think I know who you are,” she said, quietly. “I’m glad you came. 1... I rather hoped you would.” They shook hands. It was odd, and absurdly formal, and yet right. There was no pity in her face, and no hint of censure, although she knew so much about him now—knew things he could not hide. But in time she would forget those things. He would prove to her that there was another reality, that there was another Maxwell. He laughed. He realised that she did not need to have it proved. That, too, she knew. It would take time before things came right for them. They both had so many adjustments to make, so many things to work out and settle in their own minds. But this was the beginning. “TI tried not to come,” he said. “That was wrong of you.” They both smiled con- tentedly, knowing that this was the beginning. comicloooks.com