Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION questions and collar any keys you need. I’m going back to the ship. Got some engineer- ing to do.” “Don’t forget your can opener,” Calshot sent after him, but his heart wasn’t in the gibe. He went back to the Mayor, who was talking quietly with his assistant. ” The thing about Vaun, Calshot ruminated, was that he was so darned brilliant you never knew just what angle he’d go off on, and the next you knew you were riding along on some fantastic hair-brained scheme. He sighed, and set about getting carte blanche and keys from Jorgen. The thing about Calshot, Vaun’s thoughts came spurt- ing up, was that he was such an old stick-in-the-mud. Solid and dependable, and yet just failing to see the wonders that science really held out. He sighed, and set about throwing electronic and nucleonic gad- gets into a pasted-up scien- tist’s nightmare. He was 20 happy, his forehead gleaming with exertion. By the time that the sun had set—and although the planet had short seasons the days were thirty hours long— they had checked through every stage of agriculture on the most strict inspection. They found what every pre- vious agency had discovered or had caused to be set up. There was just no way for the weeds to be surreptitiously sown by any agency. In that case, if the weeds had been totally destroyed, seeds and root and branch, then they should never reappear the next season. That they did was only too plain. Vaun had most of his equip- ment spread in a _ tangle across the cabin, and Calshot grumbled as he almost lost his beer against an impersonal meter-face Vaun had just erected. “‘What’s all this rubbish, Brains?” “Got that cupful of seed?” Vaun was intent. He held out comicloooks.com