Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 65 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION Fifteen minutes later, Ward looked respectable again— and she hadn’t asked how he came to be in such a state. He gave her full marks for that. They sat opposite each other, not quite sure how to handle the situation. She’s_ better-looking than the photograph, Ward thought. He liked the way her hair swept down the nape of her neck; it was fair hair, very fine and “Did you know David well?’’ she asked firmly. “I’d like to hear about him.” It was curious, Ward re- flected, that he’d never thought of Burke as David... “I'd say I knew him pretty well. Out there, you’re on your own. The veneer of civilisation gets knocked off and your soul is a naked thing for all to see. Burke was all right.” She watched his lips move as if pearls would fall from them. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault he died,’ Ward said. ‘Just one of those things. He went outside to repair a leak and a meteor holed his suit.” He 68 fell silent, seeing again the distorted face of Burke; suf- focation is an ugly way to die. He passed over that quickly. “Burke was a real spaceman; by that, I mean he had a sense of vocation. He was dedicated. Don’t think he had any regrets. It was the life he chose, and death ‘is part of it. He’d choose the same again if he had to.”’ “Pm glad of that,” she said softly. “Thank you for telling me.” *“We left him out there,” Ward said, “under the stars. Every spaceman wants that. Burial in space is a moving ceremony. All round is the black void and the stars, and silence. You don’t know what silence is till you’ve been into space. It’s something tangible... “The whole crew were out- side, suited, and Burke’s body was held aloft. I read the service for him, then he was shot away from the ship. We have to do that or the body would stay with the ship—bad for morale.” “T understand,” she said, her eyes shining. conmicloooks.comn