Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION warm, the birds are chirping and——_”’ “What was that?’ Sam pulled her up. “Birds? Where?” “Well, one bird. Look, over there in the gutter pick- ing up crumbs. Oh, it’s gone!”’ Sam said: “‘I didn’t see any bird.” ““But there was one. I sawit.”’ “You're clutching at straws. You only thought you saw it, Lena. By the grace of God and the protection of a few inches of lead, you and I are still here to enjoy the sun- shine. But birds? No! Nothing that spent the night in the open could still be moving. The very Sunday-like atmos- phere is proof.” He went inside the bar again and Lena followed him, asking: ““What are you going to do?” “I’m going to have a look at that alien. I was born curious. And I’m going to peel that suit off him. It may not fit you very well, but it may save you from the Creep —if it isn’t too late.” **T don’t want it,”’ said Lena. ‘“‘What’s the point in being alive if you’re alone?” “You could go under- ground. There’ll be someone somewhere.” ‘““And watch them die while I survive to solitude? No, Sam. I’d rather go outside and sit in the sun to wait for the end. But I can’t even do that, because I don’t know when more like him are going to come out of that sphere.” Sam was dragging the alien into the open. He grunted: “They’ve probably split up and gone exploring. This one picked our grave. The rest will be busy with other morgues.” Womanlike, Lena’s thoughts darted obliquely. ““Why did he pass out? Is he dead?” “‘That’s what I’m going to find out,’ said Sam. He was searching for the fastenings of the suit. Lena nervously edged close and tried to peer through the transparent faceplate of the metal helmet. The clear plastic was frothed with blood. Red blood. But there was one 126 comiclooks.cormn