Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 72 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION floor of my room, where I must have collapsed straight after opening the door. My head felt like the inside of a mixing machine, and I was already two hours late. I stuck my head under the shower for a minute, there was no time for anything else, and left. Somehow or other I managed to make Lock Four- teen without folding up again. Bushman and Grant were sitting in a small cafe near the Lock. Gravity out here near the edge of the big wheel was higher than that towards the centre where Bushman’s office and living quarters were. I could see that the fat man was uncomfortable. He sat _ there, mopping ineffectually at the sweat that oozed on his pale forehead. “You no-good, drunken clown,” he panted. “Do you: think I’ve got nothing to do but sit around here?” I was feeling like several shades of hell myself, and certainly not in the mood for taking that kind of thing. ‘“‘All right; you over-stuffed balloon—consider the arrangement off.”’ I turned to walk out of the place again. ““No! Don’t go, Molson.” Grant was on his feet beside me, the smile still as sincere and bright as it had been the previous day. “‘What differ- ence does a couple of hours make in eighteen months?’ He delayed me just long enough for my brain to simmer down and look at the situa- tion in a more or less sensible manner. My credit on Fourth was running out; if I didn’t earn some money soon I would be deported back to Earth, and from there I would stand no chance of get- ting any kind of a space job. I stood there, biting back the retorts that sprang too readily to my lips, as Grant argued with Bushman. The fat man was all for dropping me and looking for another pilot, but Grant repeated his threat of the previous day to quit. Finally, Grant got his way. He and I headed for the Lock proper and, donning suits, took a jet taxi scooter out to the waiting ship. It gave me a little thrill in the pit of my stomach to be boarding a ship again. I knew that if it had not been a —— SS ee a comicbooks.com