Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 42 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION here came another Govern- ment nuisance, What this time? Internal Revenue? Social Security? Statistics? “Mr. Burke?” the stranger enquired. “Yeah,” Burke grumbled. He made it tell a whole story. Every man, woman and child within a hundred miles knew his name was Burke. ‘‘What of it?’ The stranger looked around the office. “Could I speak to you alone for a few minutes?” There was no one in the office at the time. Burke seemed as if he would point out this fact to the stranger. But he jerked his pipe stem towards a door marked PRIVATE and followed the stranger into the cluttered little office. ““Mr. Burke, I have a piece of news for you ‘which we want you not to print.” Burke looked back evenly. ““Keep it to yourself then. I get the news in this county myself. I make my living printing that news. What a paper does, you know.” The visitor smiled—the smile of a salesman who has just been told not to bother to unpack his samples. He was all civility when he spoke. “Mr. Burke, let me explain. 104 Some buildings are going up in the near future some ten miles from here. We need your co-operation.” “You expect that no one will notice these buildings?” The stranger unbent a little, became human. Local contractor’s doing the work. He'll use local help if . he can find it.” “Good.”’ Burke grinned a little. “It’s the purpose of these buildings which I can’t reveal to you and which you'll find hard to find out yourself, we hope. We want your co- operation in writing an edi- | torial. I have here a few drafts which will give you an idea.”’ . Burke picked up the offered sheets, glanced through them and returned them. ““You are welcome to use any of these,”’ the visitor said. *“No thanks. I got the drift. I can still write my own editorials.”” He swivelled around in his chair, rammed a piece of yellow copy paper into the antique typewriter and clattered: DON’T STOP, DON’T LOOK, DON’T LISTEN! When you see the soil broken for a new plant, the foundations poured for a defence project, these comiclboooks.co *‘Oh_ sure.