Authentic Science Fiction Monthly No. 50 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHENTIC SCIENCE FICTION He found himself lying on a soft, rubberised bed, with a smooth, plastic ceiling curv- ing away, following and covering the harsh concrete dome. Claire was sitting in a basket chair alongside the bed. He flicked his eyes towards her and she smiled and her lips moved. “We've tried to organise something for you, Jarril. I must apologise for the way I treated you. It was un- pardonable. I have been very humble within the com- mind. I think that other emotions must have made me act the way I did towards you.” Her soft eyelashes closed and Jarril could have sworn she was blushing. Old Ben moved into the focus of Jarril’s eyes. “How long has this war been going on, son?” Strangely, Jarril made no attempt to assess the value of that question. He didn’t even worry about evaluating the probable result of his answer. It didn’t matter that it could make no difference to the state of the war whether he told this man the truth or not. The character-shaking fact was that he hadn’t made any attempt to evaluate the posi- tion. “Four years,’ he = said through puffy lips. “Not too bad, then. Are you in a fit state to listen to a little history, son?” Jarril nodded. Old Ben drew up a chair and, to Jarril’s weak feeling of disgust, lit and puffed up an old pipe. “Long time ago,” Ben said meditatively, “a crowd of folk back home on Earth got around to thinking about the war mentality. They thought that there must be some reason in a person’s mind that made him—and millions like him—go off to wars and kill and lust in the killing. Some little quirk in the syn- apses or cells or even, if you'll pardon the term, in the spirit. So these folks got together, they and their wives and children, and came here.” “So it wasn’t an interstellar accident,” Jarril said. “No, son. We chose to live here. And the desert fitted in with our plans. Only a very few Terrans, or Sok- comiclooks.conn —_— — oo ss