ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 139 of 162

Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 41 — page 139: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 41 — page 139: Pulp Fiction, 1954

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION “Then I take it we have a concensus.” Teich oa DOOR Fon “Yes. I was coming to you, Philip. Since you alone knew him well and could gain ad- mittance to his hospital is FOOMm.i..” e WEEE vot: bs ads: “Yes, Philip. It will be simple, painless, safe. In a little piece of peppermint...” “Wait, Jake!” pleaded the boy. “I... you never said anything . . . the Manual doesn’t...not murder...” “No childish sentimentality now. Philip, your intellect must dominate in this. You’ve got to get over your baby ways. The Manual emphasises again and again the principle of absolute secrecy. Normally there is no threat to it. None of us has the power to di- vulge what we know—even if we wanted to do so. But Stephen Clary has not been a member of the gang. He hasn’t had training or therapy with us. His hypnotic in- doctrination is nil. He has only what was given him as an infant at the hospital.” “But Stephen was my friend...” 138 “Think, Philip!’’ demanded the youth. “‘Can you find a logical objection ? Think about the future... Terra itself!” The boy wavered, the words of the leader hammering their way into his mind. Fora long, intense moment Phil sought to bring the raging torrent of pent-up feelings under con- scious control. The awful, primordial conflict waged— the powerful alien-induced in- tellect, the frail, but savagely protesting, Terran emotions. “I must insist, Phil. Today is Friday. You must see him Monday...” “IT... will ...do as you SOV nae The gentle Sunday after- noon sun slanted its soft, yellow beams through the autumnal trees. It touched already fiery leaves with subtle brilliance and tinged bright gold the acorns and wild wood nuts. It fell at last upon surprising green patches in the sheltered woods. The boy and his father skirted a moist, mossy stream bed and followed a pleasant, leisurely path into the woods. They paused at bird sounds comichooks.coum