Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION long have you had this power?” “About two years. It grows stronger as I use it more.” “But how come you use it in this way?” “Easy money,” said Mon- tague, bluntly. “I can’t work at any form of manual labour —I haven’t the physique. I can’t stand desk work. I have to eat.” “But—conjuring ?”’ “I did amateur conjuring before I developed the talent. When I was in hospital last summer I practised and brought it to a fine art.” He picked up a pack of cards and sorted them into suits by touch, while Michel looked at the pallid handsome- ness of his face and thought: “Of course. T.B. This man will be dead in two years, through too much work—and too much smoking.”’ The magician continued, eyes closed, as if he were talking to himself: “I tried fortune-telling for a while. I told fat and wealthy women what they wanted to be told, 30 and they thought it genuine prophecy, and I made a lot of money. A Jot of money, it seemed—more than I get from fifth-rate theatres like this one. But [had an upsetting experience and gave it up.” “Why?” “T contacted a genuinely disembodied spirit,’ said Montague, opening his eyes. “Don’t bother to argue about it. I did. And I gave up fortune telling shortly afterwards.” Michel glanced at him a trifle suspiciously, but relaxed. There was no doubt this man had extraordinary powers—— “Guiscard! I think I’ve found him.” “Good work, young man. Where is he?” “‘There’s a baffle round him. I think one of the opposition’s got at him.” “Oh no! Guiscard, what on earth do we do?” “Keep our heads as a start, Marcia. And see if the baffie’s a tough one.” “No, it’s not very tough. comicloooks.conn