Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION U.N. committee has stopped nattering around and finally decided something. However, that was behind us now. A few hours before, Base H.Q. had received a radio message from Earth. Some sort of a temporary agreement had been reached and a supply ship would be on its way to us in a few days. The Old Man was instructed to make leave arrangements on the original basis, it being unthinkable to the brass-hats that we should all be given leave at the same time, despite the long delay. Chambers and I had been working on one of the pressur- ised crawlers all the morning, at least I had. Most of the time he was just standing there looking hungrily at that greeny-blue globe, his lips moving silently, but saying to me very loudly what he was thinking. Wilson was in the Mess when I walked in. This was no surprise; he must have spent at least two and a half out of the last three years there. The Old Man had obviously placed him at the top of the Leave Roster because he was the one person at Base we could most easily do without. 110 “‘Hello there, Sammy!”’ he shouted. Wilson never opened his mouth to produce any- thing less than a bellow in keeping with his bovine ap- pearance. He was big built, running to fat through lack of exercise, with a ruddy face and thickly curling black hair. “You come to congratulate me? Back to England, home and beauty, with three years’ back pay to blow—that’s the life for me.” He stretched himself luxuriously. “TI can well imagine,” said a soft, cultured voice. Mal- colm, the astronomer, was sitting in the corner with a book. He was a tall, thin person, with a pale, hawk- nosed face. His light grey eyes never seemed to focus on any object of such little cosmic importance as a human being. *““Always the cheerful word, that’s old Malc,”’ said Wilson, grinning. “I. suppose you wouldn’t like to be going on the next trip ?”’ ‘“‘No, as a matter of fact, I wouldn’t,”’ said Malcolm. “It will take me at least another four years to complete my work. Time enough then LO eos “You make me sick, Mal- colm!” There was a hysterical comicloooks.com