Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 42 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION we have the celebration of dedication of our citadel. And we have all the works of Aristotle now that survived the earlier Dark Ages.” He questioned no more at the time. It would have been difficult anyway in the press of people; the good-natured in- terchange of conversation swept him up, still dazed and unsure, for the rest of the afternoon and evening. There was a feast—a special one, MclIlwain explained, for the eve of the dedication—and the strange, exotic foods were another revelation after the plain fare of his father’s palace. He drank wine cau- tiously, and listened, half- attentively, when Peter Shep- pard stood up at the side of the long table in the enormous banqueting room. ““My friends,”’ he said. “‘To- morrow we name our city. This shall be our fortress, and the focus from which the knowledge of man’s dignity and man’s humility shall spread out again, as it did once before from this same land. We are on the offensive now; we shall not look back.”’ He was muzzy from the wine when the three who had brought him to this place took him with them to the room 96 . power. they had been given for the night. They each had a pallet bed; the window was open to the night breeze and the great, distant stars, flushed against purple. He watched them, lying awake, thinking. The aeroplane. It represented Psychological power as well as real power. No palace could stand against him wielding that weapon. And he had watched carefully the way Mark had driven it; there were risks but the rewards were greater. To fly back, subdue his father’s palace, and the Hawkins’, and all the other palaces of the continent. Power would breed power; strength would gener- ate strength. He had learned much, and he would use what he learned. Goodness? There was power, and power was real and visible! Emperor, he thought—and why not? Emperor of the Americas. A few years. Even- tually—Emperor of the World. Granted the initial crushing supremacy that the aeroplane would give him, it wasn’t im- possible. By the time these people could do anything the seed of his greatness would be germinating. He glanced towards the evenly breathing figures beside comicloooks.comn