Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION see you. Shall I send her?’ “She’s like Pam,” said - Winter, half to himself. “You can take it. You won't crack.” *“No.”’ He grinned involuntarily. “T think you have something on your mind. Can’t you tell me?” Mary would like to know. It was the kind of thing she could think over, tell Bob, of course, but no one else in a million years, even if she hada million years. They had their secrets, the Crispins, and they ~ could keep them. “No,” he said. “I can’t tell you, Mary.” “You can’t tell me,” she murmured in wonder, without a trace of hurt or pride. “Can you tell me why?” “Sure. Because, though it can do no harm if we all die, there’s always a chance we don’t.” “How many millions to one?” It wasn’t a question that demanded an answer. She knew possibly better than he did. ““More than that,” he said elliptically. ““Not one chance, but only a tiny bit of a 18 chance—and only because anything which is still alive may live on. The heart stops beating. And starts again. The — green light says black moss, — but maybe we’ve found some- thing that it can’t distinguish from black moss. Or black moss has suddenly decided not to kill,” “And for that chance—you must keep your secret.’ Now Mary, in turn, was talking to herself. “‘It must be big.” “Not really. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you said ‘Is that all? I’ve known it for years!’ ” “Not to you. Til send Esther.” “You don’t mind, do you, Mary?” She laughed. ““Mind? No. It will give Bob and me something to think and guess about for the rest of our lives.” She took it for granted that she could share it with Bob. Naturally. “The miners are all right, Bob says,” she added. “They've all taken things nearly as bad as this before.” He nodded. When he looked up again, Esther had replaced Mary at the door. Uncon- sciously she was leaning back cComicbooks;com — a — eee