Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 42 — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

: , a him in the room. Vague star- light filtered in. They were sleeping all right. They had not troubled to search him. He felt along his leg for the hidden sheath, and the knife. He withdrew it, cautiously, and cautiously slipped out of bed. MclIlwain first—his bed was the nearest of the three. Then the other two, for safety, and so out and down through the night to the aeroplane and escape and the dazzling future. He trod, carefully, as he had been taught, along the space between the two beds. Poised beside MclIlwain, he considered, the knife naked in his hand. He knew where to strike so that not even a sigh escaped the stricken body. One thrust and it would be over. There was nothing unusual about it. Less than a month ago his father had killed two slaves when he found them asleep outside his apartment. There was no reason for him to hesitate. It was quite Null-A. But still he hesitated. Goodness? The thought drifted back into his mind, as though in its casual im- plantation it had taken root. To be with these men, to be a friend and equal amongst friends and equals—or to be 97 ARISTOTLE Prince John, King John, World Emperor John. The temptation was almost over- whelming. And yet... He clutched the knife more tightly, and his gaze went out to the stars, brilliantly glowing in this alien night. In a sudden, intense surge of agony he called soundlessly for some help, some guidance in a confused and incomprehen- sible universe. And with that call, unanswered, unex- plained, his hand holding the knife dropped wearily to his side, and he stepped back from the bed of the man he had been ready to murder. Peter Sheppard’s voice came from the shadowy third bed by the door: “All right, Joe. You can stop snoring now. You were right; but it was in the balance for a while.” A light switched on and, dazzled, he was still able to see Peter Sheppard’s long figure clutching a gun as he lay on his bed. John began to speak in confusion, but Mcllwain, sitting up, silenced him “That’s all right, John. I was in no danger. Peter has eyes like a cat. We had to test you this way. It will be all right now.” comicloooks.com -