Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

THE LITTLE CORPORAL against it in the same way, legs stretched out. Legs weren’t one of Mary’s good points. But they were one of Pam’s... ““You wanted to see me?” she asked. That was how Mary would put it. He cursed Mary briefly for making him have to think of the right thing to say. It had always been an effort. He had never been able to deal easily with people. “It’s good for everyone to talk,’ he remarked. “I thought maybe you’d like to. I know I would.” It didn’t seem quite right to him, but apparently it did to her. And that was what mattered. She sat in the arm- chair opposite him and looked steadily at him. With an un- expected sense of the fitness of things she had chosen the simplest dress Winter had ever seen, a plain grey frock with- out an unnecessary button or stitch, nothing but a natural shape. There was no bracelet, no necklace, no ring, no watch; she wore makeup because she would have looked and felt strange without it, but she could not meet death 19 more fittingly—or looking more beautiful. Somehow, in her simplicity, he recognised quality he had previously missed in her. ‘There really is no hope?” she asked. He sighed. Black moss was a radiation that no one could see, hear or feel. So people who had passed through it, feeling the same as ever, always allowed themselves to hope until they felt the first dissolution in their own bodies. It was only to be expected. The girl opposite him was still physically capable of playing a hard game of tennis, running up and down stairs, lifting heavy weights or swimming long distances. He shook his head. “But we’re relying entirely on that green ball? There’s no other check ?”’ He looked at his watch. “Nearly two hours. There might be.’’ He rose and went across to his bathroom, leav- ing the door open. He raised his voice to reach her. animate objects last longer, so we won’t see things crumbling about us. But sponges show it early—ah!”’ Pi Daa, *“Tn- - CONMIEOOOKS COM