Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 43 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION “And their own too? But that worries me, I must admit.” Clairmont interrupted: “I _ don’t suppose it’s occurred to either of you bright sparks that Michel may have some- thing to do with their inactivity ?” *““How?’? demanded Guis- card, “Well, he’s been there nearly two and a half years. As far as the opposition are concerned, they’re sitting on a barrel of gunpowder with the fuse lit. His mental powers must be developing— and don’t forget he was potentially the equal of the best of us, what with the unique genetic pattern his father gave him. Think it over.” “Congratulations, Clair- mont.”’ That was Duplessis— dryly. “Why Y doa “Your guess was quite correct. Michel isn’t here.”’ “What?” “He isn’t here,” repeated Duplessis, patiently. 60 “How on earth did they get him out of there without our noticing ?”’ “They didn’t. At least, not according to what I’ve just probed for. May I con- gratulate you again on the accuracy of your surmise that he was responsible for the opposition’s inactivity?” *““How’s that?” “They,” explained Duples- sis, ‘“‘think that he’s still where they left him—which he isn’t. We’ve been believ- ing that they had him safely imprisoned. The result is that we've been sitting looking at — opposite sides of a brick wall for—however long it is since. he escaped.” Guiscard, outwardly fat and fifty, sat frowning into a log fire, his right hand firmly grasping a cigar. Marcia had the chair opposite, her prim lips set, her grey hair swept back into the perennial bun. Clairmont too was there, with Savigny, Duplessis, Dug- ald—all the important mem- bers of their party, all those conicloooks.conm