Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

ADDICT You know that, don’t you, George?” George Three knew that. *‘And those who abstain reject both Social Harmony and Full Production thereby, don’t they, my boy?” TV 6S, Sit. ‘“‘And are thus traitors?” “Traitors,” said George Three. “And traitors are sent to Reconditioning Camps...” “Reconditioning Camps.” Once there had been a piano player who lived on George Three’s block. One of his room-mates had caught him washing his Tab ration down the drain. They had come for him, of course, within an hour. He had maintained that he could play better as an Addict. It was a sordid story. But, so the story went, Reconditioning Camp had pulled him through. A year later he was able-to play in the camp band. *“Now, George,” continued the factory physician. “I believe you know what to do. It is a simple matter of pulling one’s self together, as it were. We understand here, George. Weare prepared to be tolerant. 109 But, of course, this is the third time. Now tell me, my boy, how can [ help you?” “I... I was thinking, sir... that maybe... you could give me something to stop my sneezing...” “IT have!” snapped the physician through clenched teeth. Then in a cool, even voice he added: “I have Tab. Take it!” George Three popped the large pink tablet into his mouth and gulped it down quickly. Ashew! The factory yard was almost deserted. An elderly gardener was lazily trimming a vast green hedge near the admini- stration building. The usual pair of guards were walking slowly along the flagstone sidewalk. A small flock of plaster of paris ducks caught up the low rays of the after- noon sun and seemed almost to waddle on the grass. Shift C had gone home, of course. It disappointed him. George Three had hoped to catch up with them. But he had been too long in the clinic. They were all gone COMICOOOKS, COM ©