Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

NUISANCE VALUE something to anchor my stomach down!”’ There was a thud by way of interruption, and Taunton broke in, raw nervousness edging his voice: ‘‘What’s that?” “Sorry, sir. I hit the wall— kicked it, rather. I’m trying to get out of the couch to start the ship check. Will do as soon as I’ve found out how to get around the cabin, anyway.” “Switching to relay one,” put in the staff sergeant in a carefully controlied whisper. He pushed over two mercury resistances to the limit, and the slight but noticeable change of tone caused by the different channel hummed at them from the speaker. Relay one con- sisted of two stratosphere planes at sixty-five thousand feet, trying to pace the space- ship as it fled towards the rim of the world, In its six- hour orbit—the shortest time compatible with the produc- tion of valid data on survival factors—it would remain in line-of-sight of the racing aircraft for some time before the Pacific shipborne relays cut in. Foley became aware that Taunton was looking at him meaningly. “‘Yes?’’ he said, rousing himself. 89 “‘What do you make of that remark about the lift?” said the general in a low tone. “It doesn’t seem promising.” ““Itisn’t,” said Foley, shrug- ging. “It’s the same as Reeves’ description of expansion in all directions, and Marlow’s idea about looking down a well with one’s eyes shut and seeing it with one’s nerves. Post’s just a little less imagina- tive than the others.” He added, musingly: ““You know, Marlow’s was quite a striking image, if you think of it.” Taunton hesitated for a moment, while indeterminate banging noises and an occa- sional muffied curse filtered through the speaker, bringing a reluctant smile to the lips of the staff sergeant. “Well, he’s all right so far,” the flight lieutenant muttered, to no one in particular, and the wing commander shot him a wry glance. ‘What do you mean by ‘allright’ ?” heasked pointedly. Taunton’s lip curled, and he turned back to Foley. ““You seem very calm,” he said, in what was meant to be a biting tone. ““What exactly was the special training you gave Post, to make him come through when the others didn’t? They were better men, I’m sure.” conmcloooks.com