Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 46 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

SAVIOUR The man looked up. “‘Well, young man?” “Are you the storekeeper ?”’ “T am.’ Patrick leaned over the desk, becoming confidential. “‘T wonder if you could do me a favour,” he said. “My father’s one of the doctors here. His name’s Clayton, but he’s new here, so I don’t suppose you'll have heard of him. Anyway, I came to see him and apparently he’s not allowed to have visitors during working hours. I got in all right, but he asked me to ask you if you could let me out in the freight lift, as there’s a whole party of security men in the front hall who’ll make a fuss if they spot me and find out my Dad’s been having visitors.” The storekeeper scratched his head. ‘‘Well,”’ he said, not unkindly, “‘I shouldn’t do it, you know. This lift’s supposed to be for freight only.” “‘Oh, please,” urged Patrick, expecting the door to burst open behind him, expecting Captain Mathews’ voice to ask him, with steely polite- ness, where he thought he was going, expecting the sound of running feet, the feel of heavy hands on his shoulders. ‘Please get me out this way. I don’t want my Dad to get 45 into trouble because I’ve been here; he might lose his job or—or something!”’ The man softened up the lined hardness of his face into a smile. “‘Oh, all right, then,”’ he said, getting to his feet. “But don’t you let on to anyone that I did it, or it might cost me my job.” He moved to the lift and swung the heavy lattice doors to one side. “IT won ‘ttell anyone. Thanks an awful lot.’’ He stepped into the lift and the storekeeper followed him, slamming the doors after him and pressing the single button on the control panel. The lift moved down. ““Here we are. Now cut away before someone sees you and comes over to ask me questions.”” The man waved Patrick’s thanks aside and, within a minute, was gone back upwards in the slowly ascending cage of the freight lift, and then Patrick was alone, the first lap of his flight successfully completed. He was in a kind of yard into which several monorails converged. Opposite him was another tall Administration building and between this and the Psychocentre itself ran an alleyway. He stood motionless for a moment or so, getting his comiclooks.corn