Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

TO-MORROW IS “I rather agree. The op- position got at him at a peculiarly susceptible moment. Incidentally, that was a really lovely bit of suggestion work they did on Michel. I bet he doesn’t even suspect he was being prompted.” “He doesn’t.” This from the man shadowing Michel. “They took a preliminary look at him and underesti- mated his sensitivity. He did get an inkling when they planted the name Quonsett last night, but they did a better job this evening, with more respect for his in- telligence.”’ “Rather a pity.” Marcia again. “It would really have put the skids under them if he’d bushed them himself.” “Can’t be helped.” Guis- card shrugged, expressively. Every few yards after he left the theatre Michel glanced back over his shoulder. He felt that he was being fol- lowed, but every time he looked around he saw nothing to support the suspicion. There 33 ANOTHER DAY were a good many people about, for it was fine and warm and not yet dark. No one was specifically following him. He felt uneasy. Montague’s uncanny powers had had a curious effect on him. That morning, when the strange idea had come to him that there was a plan behind his inheritance, he had had a sudden impression of contact with forces a little outside his experience. His meeting with Montague had brought it on with renewed strength. Giving a final quick glance back, he turned into the crowded and smoky bar of a pub and ordered whiskey and a chaser. “Gone to earth in a pub.” “Get him out of there as soon as you can. I should think his own rooms would be the best place to see him— that, or a deserted street.” “Okay, Guiscard.”’ ‘Clairmont, you were look- ing after Montague. What about him?” ““He pushed the relevant comiclooks.conn