Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 72 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION camera which had been smashed by a piece of cosmic debris, but I made it last as long as I could. It was good to be doing something useful again. I looked out at the stars and the great blacknesses between, and a great sadness came over me as I wondered if I would ever see them like this again after the voyage was finished. What good was a pilot who could not handle a ship? When I got back to Fourth I might as well take the first ferry down to Earth as waste more of my time there. The job finished, I glanced at my oxygen dial. I must have been out there longer than I had thought; there was only enough to last another five minutes at the most. I picked up my tools and headed for the airlock. After taking one last look round, I bent down to open the outer door of the lock. The wheel would not move. I tried again, tugging with all my strength, but the result was the same. It was jammed. I was in no mental state to handle such a crisis. Instead of switching on the helmet 80 radio and calling to Grant to come and release the door from inside, I just kept on try- ing to wrench it open, using up valuable oxygen and energy. Despite the suit refrigera- tion, I was sweating and the air was becoming gradually fouler. Soon my mind began to drift in the drunkenness of anoxia, a complete delirium in which my _ co-ordinated efforts to open the door ceased and I lay down on the hull babbling helplessly. The last thing I remem- bered before I lost conscious- ness was that the door seemed to open of its own accord. But at that stage I was unable to distinguish dream from reality. When I opened my eyes I felt as if I had been on a bender lasting a week. The opening of the airlock had not been a dream after all. I was lying on the pilot’s seat in the control room. It had been adjusted, leaning back- wards, to make me more comfortable. Grant held out a bottle. “For medicinal purposes,” he said, with a grin. He watched comicloooks.com