Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION ducking under the livid streak of flame that came from the shadows. Vaun went head- over-heels across the ramp and onto the concrete beneath. Calshotstraightened hisstubby body, about to essay a mad charge at their assailant, when a black form rushed past him on the ramp, knocking him off. By the time he had scrambled to his feet, the attacker’s footfalls were dy- ing in a machine-gun staccato on the concrete walkways beyond the farther sheds. Calshot drew in a deep breath. He frowned after the vanished gunman, then bent down and sorted out Vaun’s whereabouts for him. “Come on, Brains,” he said good-humouredly. “‘Let’s get in the ship and find out just what sort of booby-trap our mysterious friend has left us.” ! Vaun panted and pufied, his dignity lost. He went up the ramp, seething, and just as Calshot was about to enter, said, frigidly: “And 8 suppose the booby trap is right here in the airlock?” Calshot backed out fast. “Well?” Vaun rummaged in his pockets, came up with a small detector, its scale faintly greenish in the dusk. He ran the probe delicately around the airlock door, checking seams and electrical con- nections. “She seems clear of any nucleonic object,” he said at last. ““Reckon we can check any other as we go through.” Calshot chuckled. ““When we were in the Space Rangers,” he said, a note of reminis- cence creeping into his voice, ‘““we became rather proficient at doing just that. Come on.” They went in, carefully. Flashlights showed them the interior of the lock. They checked every relay and circuit before they used it, and penetrated right through to the cramped control room without finding a single thing wrong. ‘Must have interrupted him just as he was about to start connicloooks.com