Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION map-pocket of his _battle- dress. The feel of the sash and the way the sun beat on his back as he watched the coach round the last bend and grumble to a halt in the quad. Then Jenson, head janitor, had hobbled across and angrily told the driver to pull over into the unloading park. Jarril smiled inwardly at that —and mentally erased the smile and became the fully- trained guardsman. Smiles and jokes were for the kids. And he had left all the kid stuff behind him. This was his last day at the Academy. From the coach a melee of scrambling boys boiled out into the sunshine, their faces round and smooth with youth and all the eager, erratic con- vulsions of boyhood sending them hopping and jumping and skylarking together. One youngster tilted old Jenson’s peaked cap over one ear and the rest giggled in enjoyment at the jest. They made fun of him as he patiently pulled their luggage from the coach roof; one emptied a water- pistol into his ear, another gave a laughter-choked imita- tion of the old janitor. 10 Their school blazers were of different colours and designs, and Jarril looked, without great hope, for one that he knew. The old school sent very few boys to Spatial Academy. Perhaps that was one reason why he had been so des- perately studious and deter- mined to graduate. Some- thing to do with not being able to keep a good man down. When the boys’ began arranging one of their num- ber behind the old janitor, and the others getting ready to rush him in a fool’s tumble, Jarril decided it was time he showed himself. He stepped forward, conscious of the swing of the sword at his side and the _ hours-deep polish on his insignia. One boy spotted him, and turned into a stone statue. The others looked, and the hush that fell was punctuated by old Jenson’s hoarse breath- ing as he loaded the last of the baggage aboard his hand- cart. Jenson shuffled off, and Jarril waited patiently until the old man was out of ear- shot. Even though these caps and comiclbooks.com