Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 71 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

THE LITTLE CORPORAL Was his secret, the secret which he said mattered so much, in danger? So Barker was right. Barker had always been right, in the end. Winter, he was now prepared to believe, was like a murderer caught before he decided to commit the mur- der. He had told no one who and what Barker was, but he was ready to break that silence. Barker would not have killed him otherwise. He had never meant to kill him—until at last he knew it was neces- sary. Why did everyone make it so easy for Barker? He and Shaw had visited him for the last time. Shaw hardly knew him, but was already fasci- nated. “Taking the straight line back?” Barker had asked no one in particular. “Yes,” said Shaw at once, as Barker must have known he would do. “It’s a new route.” ‘Not entirely. I was over it once. When I was just an explorer. I had two ships.” He paused and went on regretfully: “One of them — was lost. Bad business.”’ 35 “What was it?’ Shaw de- manded, scenting another of Barker’s always fascinating stories. “*Nothing that need concern you. Here’s the figures.” Shaw stared at him in that familiar admiration. Rapidly, without pause for thought, Barker had done the whole job of navigation from Ceres to Earth—on the theoretical side, at any rate—as they talked. It was impossible without tables. Except to Barker, the man who could do the impossible in his sleep. Shaw knew the figures would be right. They were right, Winter thought. Barker had done his best for him. He had given him two years of happiness. Winter would never know for certain when Barker had planned to kill him—perhaps back on Barker IV, perhaps only as he talked to him and Shaw that last time. Two ships—one was lost. Black moss. Nothing that need con- cern you. The door opened. Esther burst in. She was not pretty. comlichooks.conn a