Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

THE CREEP alien alive, from fainting. The alien’s left pectoral was deeply indented, as if some- thing had rammed him in the chest when his ship had landed. From his side, five white ribs protruded. These the old man studied with such great interest that Lena felt bound to remind him: “Please hurry. If you don’t patch him up and bring him round soon, it'll be too late. In spite of the Creepmeters and Sam’s warning, people could start coming up from underground any minute. Friend or foe, he must be made to tell us the secret of neutralising the radiation. If he dies, everybody will die. Like flies, or like sparrows, as soon as the anti-Creep hatches are lowered.” The old man picked on Sam as being the one more able to understand. He said: “‘Haste could defeat us. This man looks human and can breathe our atmosphere safely. But am I to deduce from these paltry facts that he will react to my prevented her 141 drugs as a human would?” **Risk it,” said Sam, curtly. ““He doesn’t look too different to me.” “No? Take a look at the rib fractures.” “Well?” “Of course, you wouldn’t know. You and [I and the girl—our bones aren’t hollow like his. The only creatures on Earth with hollow bones are birds. That’s for lightness. And our friend here, naked as he is, couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds. Perhaps a light frame is the best for life under the prevailing grav- ity on his planet. Or perhaps his bones are hollow because he isn’t quite human as we © understand it. The choice is yours. I can’t take the entire responsibility for filling him with drugs which might be safe enough for us, but an- tagonistic to his system.” Sam looked at Lena—so young, so vital, the greater part of her life still to be lived. He thought too of the unknown millions who would be digesting their breakfasts ‘ comiclbooks.com