Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 42 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION twenty-eight—correction, twenty-nine. All bombers are down.” There was a slight break. “Attention! The battle is over! Return to sections!” Filing into the elevators, everyone sang: “Glory to Father Protector of us.” Beyond a doubt it bad been a great victory and it would be a long time before ENEMY tried another of his sneaking attacks. But, equally beyond doubt, Kermit knew that this same day there would be Father’s voice from the speak- ers, telling everyone that vigi- lance must never be relaxed. Curiosity beyond one’s pro- fessional curiosity was deadly dangerous, but Kermit found himself wondering about Samuels. There simply was no room for a philosopher, so where did Samuels fit? Kermit could not visualise him as a Tech, Mechanizal. Still less as a Producer. Certainly not as a Menial, not with Samuels’ frail physique. Logically, it left only three Classes: Servant, Friend, or Brother. There was a Servant for every ten citizens, a Friend for every hundred, and a Brother 126 for every Section. Since Ker- mit knew his Servant and his Friend there was left only one logical solution. The Section had a new Brother, and Samuels was he. “Q.E.D.,” Kermit mur- mured, half to himself. “What say?’ asked Grath, his lab partner. Kermit came awake, his tongue already formulating the lie. “‘Thirty. It was a masterful victory. ENEMY will not soon forget it.”’ ‘Praise Father. And with Father’s genius directing our efforts here it won’t be long before final victory.” Grath was a young man, not more than twenty-five. He was so thoroughly conditioned that the years before the war— if he could recall them at all— must be a vague dream. Like the rest of the younger ones he was completely a product of Father, Brother, Friend, Ser- vant, US. As for the older ones, who might not have been so easily conditioned—well, there were few left. Kermit was an older one. He’d been almost twenty when the war started. But the survival instinct was strong in him, and along with the in- comiclooks.conn