Pulp Fiction, 1954 · page 106 of 162
Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 106: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1954. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ADDICT “Yes, but why? Why do they call us Addicts?” “Tt is only a word . “Why do they hunt v Ws. “Tell him,” said a voice from the shadows. “Tell him about Social Harmony... Full Production . . . tell him what kind ofa...” “No,” said the woman. “Let me explain. He is my son.” “Tell him,”’ continued the heated voice, “‘about how we are so unaccustomed to life that it hurts us to feel it. Tell RD a At that instant the entire room was filled with a bril- liant blue floodlight. Instan- taneous small flashes joined it, followed instantly by ear- shattering reports. Then, as the blue light dimmed to a ruddy glow and the darkness shyly returned, a living moist-red colour grew on the rough floor. Finally the clump, clump, clump sound of heavy boots gave way to absolute silence. GEORGE THREE grasped the hollow plastic box and pulled it gently from its conveyor clasps. He swung it down and 105 to his right in a body motion that involved little or no use of his arm muscles. It had no sooner come into contact with the work bench when his deft fingers found their way inside, moved over familiar surfaces, and fitted tiny metal parts into their proper places. The operation complete, he swung his body once more and placed the box into the waiting fingers of the assembler to his right. The entire action occupied fifteen seconds precisely. George Three now turned to his far left and extended his hands to repeat the process. Again he positioned the box on the assembly bench and again his fingers found their way over the smooth convolu- tions of the box’s interior. “Good morning, Lilian Four,” he said without looking at the assembler. “Good morning, George Three,” the girl said. “How are you?” But no more conversation _ was permitted under the rules. He did not answer. As each part snapped pre- cisely in place under the gentle urging of his fingers it pro- comicbooks.col :