Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION was somehow sorry he had made the assertion. “No,” said the girl. “You aren't. Yet.” “T...1...Im allergic to Tab.” “I know. My father toid me about you... about people like you.” “What Y sid “Yes. Your allergy is— psychosomatic.” “That’s what the physician told me at the factory...” “‘There’s more to it than that, George Three,” the girl said with a strange expression on her face. “Tl tell you more—later.”’ “How did you know [I would be here?’ George Three suddenly asked. “T didn’t. But I hoped to catch you before you left. I knew they were going to reassign you. The physician told someone. He said they were going to send you to Reconditioning today. I came as soon as I could to warn you.” “They were after you too,” George Three said. “Why didn’t you just escape—or something ?”’ The girl looked away from 120 him. “There are several reas- ons, George Three. But we have to get out of here. We have to go...” “You ain’t goin’ anyplace,” snapped a female voice from the doorway. “I thought I heard the front door open. I heard the whole thing. [’m turnin’ you over!” It was George Three’s land- lady. The gnarled and stooped old woman hobbled into the room. She held an ancient pistol in remarkably steady, thin hands. “Dad gave it to me just before he croaked,”’ she ex- plained, her face twisted into a grotesque smile. ““To protect ma virtue!” She backed them to the bed and very slowly took a seat in front of them. George Three slumped limply, his eyes blank. The girl said nothing. She folded her hands on her lap and sat very straight on the sagging bed. Her face was hard, George Three . noticed, as she stared back at the old woman. “Ya make a real pretty couple,” cackled the land- lady. Then, turning to George Three, she said, lewdly: “Bet comicloooks.conn es ee te A ee