Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 66 — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

NUISANCE VALUE doing about it?” he rasped. There was a pause, followed by a sound as if Post was sighing from the very bottom of his lungs, trying to regain control of himself. Some of his self-confidence crept back in his next words. ‘““What am I doing about it?” he echoed wonderingly. “Damn it, man, do you expect that crate to nurse- maid you? Something can go wrong with any kind of machinery. That’s not the end of the world.” Again a pause. This time, when the pilot answered, his voice was shaky, but normal. “All right. You’ve got more instruments for this ship than I have. Tell me if you can make out from your board where the leak’s likely to be.” Foley glanced across at the wing commander, but the officer had already taken his cue. He didn’t bother to consult his instruments before barking his reply. ““Between reserve tanks two and three. There’s a pressure- equalising pipe between them with a bleed cock on it. The cock might just possibly have Shaken open with vibration.” ‘“‘Hear that, Post?’’ Foley demanded. “Got you,” the pilot an- swered. Helmet-echo tinged 33 91 his words. “Okay. I’ve sealed my suit. I'll have to exhaust the compartment now—oh, just a moment.” There was a rushing hiss of escaping gas, and Taunton demanded: *‘What was that?’ “Remembered I’d_ better let the air out of my couch pad,”’ the pilot answered cheer- fully. “It was blown up so tight it might have exploded when the pressure dropped.” More banging sounds ac- companied his explanation. “I’m having to wriggle some. Okay, I’m letting the air out now. If you didn’t guess right, Pll wire myself into the speaker circuit with my suit mike to save wasting the emergency air when I go out again. Wish me _ luck!” There was a rush of gas again—but this time it dwindled and stopped. Foley found there was a bead of sweat from his fore- head dangling on the tip of his nose. He took out his handkerchief mechanically and wiped it away. Nobody said anything. Occasional faint whines of static that eluded the vigilant N.C.O. and clunks as Post struck solid parts of the hull hard enough to jar the sensitive microphone were all that interrupted the silence. In the end, the major at the commicloolks.com