Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

y ORY \ 7 ue . eee ws ry aa at nia Mae +t f Me A BAN Yih ty YOU DO TAKE IT WITH YOU ‘minute he stood and looked at it. He turned slowly and said to the watching Harry: __ ‘It’s off.” Graves stopped dramatic- _ally. George shot me a sudden _ Startled look that didn’t regis- ' ter for the moment. I’m a _ banker, not a spaceman, so I said, uncertainly: ““You mean you think this Harry had turned off the temperature or - something, so he died of heat?” Graves shook his head. “No, nothing like that. There was plenty of good, cool air about, but it wasn’t much use to a sick man unable to 2 stand, and fastened well down into the bargain.” George saw my puzzled frown. He said, quietly: “You need more than air in a space- ship, Ted. Used air is cleaned chemically and stored for re- use. That means a purifying apparatus. You need some- thing else equally vital. In a free atmosphere warm air rises, while cold air sinks. In the old-type space craft where everything was weight- less, as soon as acceleration ceased, air also had equal no-weight. It would stay put 151 without an artificial draught system to force its circulation. So, a sick man, strapped down, gasping from accelera- tion, weak, and _ suffering from acute nausea, within a short time of the resumption of free fall would——” Even after all these years the truth struck me with a sudden unbearable contrac- tion of the heart I thought I’d long controlled. Paul’s voice was an echo in my brain, beamed across thirty million thanks for everything ... Not long to go now... Atkinson walked off .. . it’s filthy, beastly jungle. He’s taken his helmet off—yes, he’s gone. Maybe I will, too... Better than choking in this plastic trap . . . Sorry there’s no time for scientific exam... Tell Research they’re miles out in their carbon-di- content . . . About four minutes to go—at the most— do you mind if I don’t wait... can t=. .’ -A_ horrible suffocating gasp .. . silence. The memory mist cleared. I found them both staring at me... . “Dad, tell mum. COmcloolks.comn =