Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 42 — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

IN TIME OF SORROW bravely, under the warm noon sun. They talked of trivialities and only Angelus Muerto had a dour look, but Muerto was a businessman and _ never changed. Meg flitted like a hummingbird from group to group. When Muerto gave the sign, they stepped inside. It was a gay little cottage, and the banquet table glowed with the lights of many candles. Like the Last Supper, thought Robertshaw. How Meg would hate to hear him say it! Dr. Bratton was the first to toast. “To a darn swell guy!” he said. The toast was sec- onded, and after the routine round of salutations, the guests fell quickly to their dinner, Robertshaw, of course, sitting at the head of the table, in the place of honour. A pleasant chitchat filled the room. ‘““Having any spectators?” asked Hansotte, at his right. Robertshaw looked at the dark blue uniform and hand- some, youthful man. Han- sotte was now patrolman ona regular flight to the much- publicised Galaxy Hernandos Bab. “Just Meg.” He took a bite of sirloin. “She wants to see it. Why, Ill never know.” Hansotte looked concerned. 119 He whispered: ‘‘Do_ they really 1 Robertshaw laughed. “‘Club a man to death, you mean?” Hansotte nodded, gravely. “Afraid so, old man. It’s custom, don’t you know.” Hastily, the young patrol- man downed his drink, and when a Moribundus servant filled his glass again, he stood straight up. “To a man with guts’ he said. The dinner was a dull one, thought Robertshaw, and seemed to last too long. “Now don’t go wild,” he said, quick upon the Yorkshire pudding, “but how’s for after dinner jokes ?”’ ““Well,’’ said Mabel, ad- justing her skirts and standing on a chair, “there was this travelling spaceman——” A red-haired woman with too much fat, she was quite drunk by now, thought Robertshaw. He’d heard the joke before, a man’s joke, the kind to bother Meg. Old Mabel was a sport. Then when he’d had enough, he gave the high sign to Muerto, who moved quietly through the room, advising each guest of protocol. Now savouring the vast ill-at-ease and clumsy silence, Robert- shaw leaned back and thought of Dolarita. Venus had a comiclooks.com