Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 120: what you’re looking at

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

ADDICT weight upon it. His arm looped around the sill to hold on to the plaster wall itself. He checked his fall. “They .. . they sent you,” said George Three in a husky voice, his face livid from strain and exertion. “They sent you to bring me in.” *“No! No!” ““They sent you . . . because they knew...’ He could not finish. “No, George,” she said, softly but firmly. “I came because they’re after me too. I...I came to help you... escape.” “You? They’re after you?” With difficulty and with Lilian Four’s help he finally was able to pull himself through the narrow window and back into the room. He collapsed into a battered chair. ““My father and mother... they were caught last night...” ~*OUr..2° ““Yes. When I was sent to the City my father and moth- er followed me—there was another reason also, but I can’t tell you much about that yet. ““Anyway they weren’t dis- covered—until last night. They 119 were foundin...aplace. There was a photograph—ofme...” For a time she was silent. “I found them... . after- wards.” George Three tried to grasp the idea of “father” and “mother” and “parents” but he was only partly able to do so. The rest was a complete mystery to him. ““My parents were—Addicts, Abstainers.”’ The calm revelation shook George Three. Such things were alien to him. They came to one on the viewer on Saturday nights. They be- longed to the world of stories. They belonged to a world that citizens dreaded and hated. “Are you an... addict?’’ The question escaped him almost involuntarily. He both dreaded and longed for her answer. “No, not fully,” the girl answered, lowering her head. “Sometimes I am able to abstain for a while. But not for long. One can’t abstain and work. You know that, don’t you, George Three?” ““Yes,”’ said George Three, “but I’m no Addict!” He conmicloooks.corn