Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

THE CREEP syringe. With his left hand, he thumbed a self-adhesive rubber patch on the sleeve of the spacesuit. He depressed the plunger of the hypo so that the barrel was empty of air and slid the needle into the centre of the rubber patch. Stringy muscles ridged his thin wrist as he forced the needle through the tough material of the suit. There was a quick jerk and the suit was pierced. But with practised skill, Sul- levan halted the needle’s pro- gress before it reached the man inside the suit. He changed hands on the barrel of the syringe and drew out the plunger slowly. Another steady pull and the needle was in sight again. Sullevan glanced briefly at the empty barrel, held the needle below his nose and pressed the plunger. “Sweaty,” he commented. “But not noxious.” “Well, dammit,’ Sam ad- mired. ‘““You’ve got guts! And The old man didn’t hear him. He was already drawing more gas from the suit. ““The pyrogallol,” he said, over his shoulder. .Engrossed in the procedure, Sam and Lena were slow in responding. “It’s in the old photographic kit; the black cardboard box. That’s right. Now shake a few crystals into one of the glass measures. Half fill the glass with water— don’t gush it in! Run the water down the side of the glass. Can you see another bottle, marked SODIUM CAR- BONATE? Right—take out one little lump. Drop it in the water and bring me _ the glass.” Sullevan took the glass and held it to the light from the window. The solution’ was pale, straw-coloured. He dipped the syringe gently into the water until the needle rested on the few undissolved feathery crystals of pyrogallol and emptied the gas from the suit into the solution. As the brains, too. That self-seal bubbles trickled from the idea was real cute.” needle, the straw colour 139 comiclbooks.corn