Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 65 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION running headlong down the drive in the cool night air. He put half a mile between himself and the house, then, feeling sick and faint, he entered a tube station and purchased a ticket to the city. If only he could reach his town flat, he could obtain medical attention, then con- sider his next move. He travelled as far as Piccadilly in a semi-comatose condition, leaving a brown stain, shoulder-high, on the upholstery when he left the compartment. He felt no pain, but he was gripped by a lethargy which made thought and movement increasingly arduous. With considerable effort, he changed platforms and waited, swaying, to be carried . on the last short stage of his journey. As the train thun- dered from its tunnel, he was seized by an invincible torpor, his eyes closed, his knees sagged, and his unconscious body fell across the track in front of the hurtling monster. 58 Sita wakened in a tumbled bed. Last night’s burglarious intrusion had jolted her nerves badly. Although she had put on every light in the house and had left them blazing all night, it was not until dawn that she had drifted into a muddled nightmare-haunted somnolence. And now she was awake again, she felt wretched. She screwed up her eyes and shook her head in an effort to dispel her unnatural depression, but without avail. She felt dull and heavy. Her head was splitting. Her eyes would not focus. And her cheeks——— She drew in a shuddering breath. Apprehension-stiff, her fingers touched her cheeks. She could feel... She screamed. In a flash she was out of bed, at the *phone. “Oh, thank God!” she panted, when a _ voice answered her call. “Put me through to Professor Grundhoff, please. Quickly! Quickly!” comiclooks.conrn