Authentic Science Fiction Monthly, No. 67 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION possible to enter a dome, refuel a ship or buy food without their permission. The tariff would rise to the sky and we'd have. to jump every time they cracked a whip in order to stay alive. A nice prospect—and I was in the middle of it. I had a week to think about it, and I covered it from all angles. In between bouts of brain-work, I sat and smoked and drank the laced coffee, while the stars swung around me and I tried not to feel lost. I checked my suit and made sure the compact recording machine Harry had left was in good order. I did everything a dozen times, and was just ready to go space-crazy with boredom when time ran out and things began to happen. The goons were early. I’d caught a glimpse of their jets and had time to deflate the igloo and stack it away under a rock with the supplies and recorder. I took the rifle and hid behind a rock overlooking the squat bulk of 28 the radio-marker. I’d plugged in my contact belt and, as soon as the ship landed, I heard voices on the general band echoing from my radio- cap. I pressed the radio relay to the recorder, settled myself more comfortably and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and air made an expanding mist of ice. Two men came out, looked around for a moment, then headed towards the marker. *“What’ll we do with it, Jeff? Smash it or take it back with us ?’’ I didn’t know which of the two was talking, but it didn’t matter. I crouched lower and stared through the sights of the rifle. “Take it back with us, of course,” snapped Jeff. ““These things are worth money. We can file off the number, adjust the pulse, and sell it. You ready to take the bore, Sam ?” “Just getting my gear.” A third figure jumped down comiclooks.corn