Astounding Science Fiction (British edition) — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

SAM HALL 15 Fools! They go by the book, they’re afraid to be original even when the state tells them to. “It may just be a wild fancy, of course. I hope it is. But we have to know. That’s why I approached you personally, instead of sending the usual requisition. | want you to make a search of the records—everything pertaining to the subject, every man, » every discovery, every hypothesis. You have a broad technical back- ground and, from your psychorecord, an unusual amount of creative im- agination. I want you to do what you can to correlate all your data. Co-opt anybody you need. Submit to my office a report on the possibility— or should I say probability—of this notion and, if there is any likelihood of its being true, sketch out a research program which will enable us to dupli- cate the results and counteract them.” Thornberg fumbled for words. “TI try,’ he said lamely. “Pll do my best.” “Good. It’s for the state.” Sorensen had finished his official business, but he didn’t go at once. “Rebel propaganda is subtle stuff,” he said quietly, after a pause. “It’s dangerous because it uses our Own slogans, with a twisted meaning. Liberty, equality, justice, peace. ‘Too many people can’t appreciate that times have changed, and the meanings of words have necessarily changed with them.” “I suppose not,” said Thornberg. He added the lie: “I never thought much about it.”’ “You should,” said Sorensen. “Study your history. When we lost World War III, we had to militarize to win World War IV, and after that, for our own safety, we had to mount guard on the whole human race. The people demanded it at the time.” The people, thought Thornberg, never appreciated freedom till they'd lost it. They were always willing to sell their birthright. Or was it merely that, being untrained in thinking, they couldn’t see through demagoguery, couldn’t visualize the ultimate conse- quences of their wishes? He was vaguely shocked at the thought; wasn’t he able to control his own mind any longer? “*The rebels,”’ said Sorensen, “claim that conditions have changed, that militarization is no longer necessary— if it ever was—and that America would be safe enough in a union of free countries. It’s devilishly clever propaganda, Major Thornberg. Watch out for it.” He got up and took his leave. Thornberg sat for a long time staring at the door. Sorensen’s last words were—odd, to say the least. Was it a hint—or was it bait in a trap? The next day Matilda received a news item whose details were carefully censored for the public channels. A rebel force had landed in the stockade of Camp Jackson, in Utah, gunned down the guards, and taken away the prisoners. The camp doctor had been spared, and related that the leader of the raid, a stocky man in a mask, had ironically said to him: “Tell your friends Pll call again. My name is Sam Hall.” Space Guard ship blown up on Mesa Verde Field. On a fragment of metal someone has scrawled: ““Com- pliments of Sam Hall.” / Army quartermaster depot robbed of a million dollars. Bandit chief says, before disappearing, that he is Sam Hall. Squad of Security police, raiding a suspected underground hideout in New Pittsburgh, cut down by machine gun fire. Voice over hidden loud- speaker cries: “My name is Sam Hall!” Dr. Matthew Thomson, chemist in Seattle, suspected of underground Conniclooolkks.Cconn