Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 44 — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

ADDICT George Three looked back toward where they had seen the corpse. ““Oversight,”’ explained the girl. “‘Besides, he died of a fall, not a disease. There is little actual disease even here. Everybody is immune these days. “What you don’t realise yet, George, is that Bugtown has a definite purpose. Ten thousand men—and women, too—live here. The City couldn’t provide for its human waste products in any other way. This is a sanitarium!” “Who are they—these people,” he asked, almost knowing the answer. “George Three, Lilian Four, Horace Eight, Ella Two—after fifteen or twenty years of Tab. You landlady in a year or so.” “My landlady? But she owns property.” | “She acts as though she owns it. For that she is ‘paid’ exactly as much and no more than if she actually owned it.” “I don’t understand,” George Three said. “I paid her rent myself. Once I saw 131 her spend the money I gave her—the same bills.” ““Yes,”’ replied the girl, ““but her ‘ownership’ is a carefully built-up illusion just the same. She performs the needed func- tion of providing rooms for workers. So the City lets her ‘own’ the house. *‘Meanwhile she can’t sell the. property, mortgage it, or even give it away. She has no choice over those who are assigned to her. She is fully responsible for its upkeep— she must repair or replace anything that is accidentally damaged, usually by getting the money from her tenants. ““No, George, her owner- ship is a matter of words oniy—just as any ownership is these days.” “Then who does really own things ?” “The State. The powerful Federated State, acting through the City.” “You mean we actually have socialism without know- ing it?” “It is nothing resembling the socialism of the ancient idealists and humanitarians,” answered Lilian Four, bit- terly. ““We do have the - cConnlielooolkkS.conn